Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones: Sunday, September 14, 1862

Rienzi.  Was begun with another of the "strategic moves". We were told to hitch up with the greatest speed—all our baggage, knapsacks, etc. were put in a wagon, nothing was left to encumber us from a rapid and a desperate fight [in] which we were expected to share. The 3d Section, two regiments of infantry, one of cavalry, started at 3 A. M. But all rumors of the enemy's presence proved false, and after lying in the shade, horses hitched, for an hour, we returned, unharnessed and lay quiet all day. The 3rd Section returned at 4 P. M. without seeing any enemy.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 5

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 Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: Tuesday, October 28, 1862

CAMP MILLINGTON, BALTIMORE. From the time of our home-coming and the royal welcome given us by the 150th, I have only made notes which I will try now to write out. Nothing out of the ordinary routine of a soldier's life in camp has transpired. I am getting more and more used to this, and the trifling occurrences that at first made such deep impressions are soon forgotten now. Still, as some one may read this who will never know of the details of a soldier's life in any other way, I shall try and keep to my promise to tell the whole story.

The box of good things that was mentioned in the letter I received while we lay in the street at Baltimore, waiting for a train to take us to Gettysburg, came a few days after our return to camp. In it was a great big package for me. I opened it and there lay the roasted body of our old Shanghai rooster. He was minus head, feet and feathers, but I knew him the minute I laid eyes on him.

I at once began to figure how many stomachs like ours he would fill, and then gave out that many invitations. All came, and brought their plates. With mouths watering, they stood about as I prepared to carve.

At the first cut I thought I smelled something, and at the next was sure I did. The old fellow, tough as he was, was not able to stand close confinement in such hot weather, and had taken on an odor that took away all appetite for roast chicken. Terribly disappointed, we wrapped him up again, and taking him out of camp, gave him as near a military funeral as we knew how. He was a brave old bird. I have seen him whip Cuff, mother's little guardian of the garden patch. "He sleeps his last sleep. He has fought his last battle. No sound shall awake him to glory again."

Requests for passes to visit the camp of the 150th are the pests of the commanding officers of our regiment, and the same can be said of the 150th. As soon as guard-mount is over, and the other details for camp duty made, the old guard (those who were on duty the day before, and who are excused from all duty except dress parade for the next twenty-four hours) try for a pass to visit the city or the 150th, the two attractions now. John Van Alstyne often visits me, as well as others with him with whom I am well acquainted. These visits I return as often as I can get away. Our camp ground has been laid out in regular order and the company streets graded and made to look very respectable. There is a broad street, along one side of which are the officers' tents, the colonel's in the center. Back of these are the quartermaster's and the commissary's stores, the sutler's tent and the mules and horses. In front of the colonel's tent is the flag-staff, and running out from the street are ten shorter streets, one for each company, with cook-houses or tents at the bottom. Men are detailed every day to clean up and keep in order all these and are called supernumeraries. When it rains we that are not on duty lie in our tents and amuse ourselves in any way we can, or visit from tent to tent as the fancy takes us. In fair weather we have either company-drill or battalion-drill, and every now and then the regiments are put together for brigade-drill. Any of it is hard work, but it is what we are here for, and we find little fault. The weather is chilly. I notice but little difference in the weather here and as we usually have it at home. There we expect it, while here we do not and that I suppose makes it seem harder to put up with.

One of our company, Elmer Anderson, deserted and enlisted in an artillery regiment a few days ago. He came into camp showing his papers and was arrested and put in the guard-house. What the outcome will be I don't know, but it seems as if there should be some way of preventing such things. Sunday mornings we have what we call knapsack-drill. Why they save this for Sunday I don't know, but I suppose there is some reason for it. We pack our knapsacks, brush up our guns, clothes, shoes, etc., and march to the drill ground and form in columns by companies. Company A on the right and B on the left. This brings Company A in front and the first company to be inspected, after which they march back to camp and are through for the day. Company B being the last, it is something like an hour we stand there with our knapsacks open before us on the ground, everything in them exposed to view of the passer-by, who is the inspection officer and the captain whose company he is inspecting. With his sword tip he pokes over our belongings, and if any dirty socks or handkerchief or any other article a soldier ought not to have is found, a lesson is read to him on the spot and repeated in plainer terms by the captain afterwards. As we must take everything we own or have it stolen while we are away, we take a great many chances. I shall never forget the first inspection. We knew nothing of what was coming, and such an outfit as that inspection officer saw I don't think any other one ever did. Little by little we learn the lesson, learn to put the best on top, for not all knapsacks have their contents stirred up. A great deal of allowance was made for us at first, but as we go along the screws of discipline are slowly but surely turned on, and finally I suppose it will be easy to obey. That one word, "obey," seems to be all that is required of us. No matter how unreasonable an order seems to us, we have only to obey it or get in trouble for not doing it.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 54-7

Diary of Private Bartlett Yancey Malone: May 2, 1862

a beautyful one And we had orders to leave Yorktown And soon in the morning the wagons was loded and everything sent off but our knapsacks and about 12 o'clock the Artillery was all plast (placed) in a line of battle acrost the field and about dark we was all marched out behind it and Colonel Pender told ous that they expected a large fight

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 18

Diary of Musician David Lane, June 6, 1863

Lebanon, Ky., June 6th, 1863.

I did not go to Jamestown, as I intended. I called on the Provost Marshal for a pass and learned the program had been changed, and the Seventeenth was then on its way back to Lebanon. I found the company about nine o'clock in the evening, a half mile from Columbia, tired and worn by a march of twenty six miles. The boys had stretched themselves on the ground, too tired to erect their tents, but when they learned of our arrival, they flocked around us to learn the latest news from home. And such warm greetings I seldom ever witnessed. The Colonel said we were all right on time; he did not expect us to start from home until Monday.

Here I learned the Ninth Corps had received orders to report immediately at Louisville. We started early next morning and marched twenty miles. After supper we threw ourselves upon the ground and forgot our pains and aches in "balmy sleep."

At two o'clock we were aroused by "the shrill bugle's cry," and were told we were to be in Lebanon at 12 m. eighteen miles. We turned out, cooked and ate our breakfasts, and at four o'clock were on the move. The Quartermaster soon overtook us with teams that he had "pressed" to carry our knapsacks for us. With many thanks to Colonel Luce—it was he that ordered the wagons to follow us—we started on our way with light hearts and lighter feet. But eighteen miles in half a day is no easy task, even in light marching order, and soon the men, worn out by repeated forced marches, began to tire, and many were ready to declare they could go no further, when we were met by a wagon train, sent from Lebanon to bring in those not able to walk. The train was soon filled to its utmost capacity. Not being one of the unfortunates, I "hoofed it" the entire distance.

The all-absorbing question with us is, where are we going? The Louisville Journal says we are "going to take a new lesson in geography." Of course, then, we leave the state. Our officers are about equally divided between Washington and Vicksburg. But which? If we are to take a new lesson we will not go east. Then it must be Vicksburg. Our men say it makes but little difference to them, if only we go where work is to be done.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 44-5

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, December 11, 1862

The guard was relieved early, and at seven A.M. we fell into line with the regiment, marching across the town to Fort Totten, where we joined our brigade. We made little progress till nearly noon, when, as we thought, we started, but there were continued hitches somewhere, and we had many chances to stretch ourselves on the ground. We were loaded down this time, carrying blankets and knapsacks, and most of us a change of clothes. About four o'clock we passed the pickets on the Trent road, apparently about a regiment, having a prettily situated entrenched camp, on a small elevation; their posts being about an eighth of a mile farther up the road. Soon after leaving them we encountered the first “obstacle" of the expedition. We kept halting, and then starting a little, and soon found we would probably have to sleep in wet clothes. We had to cross quite a long and deep run of water, but, for a change, were allowed to struggle with the plank at the side of the road; but those who succeeded in keeping their feet on the narrow, slippery timber, were few, but dry, and consequently happy. We saw lights ahead, and supposed we were close to camp, but had to march three miles or so before we turned into a cornfield on the left of the road, having marched about fourteen miles. A self-imposed detail of two went back to get water for the mess, and what wood we could find; then made our fire, had supper, and turned in. No good bunks now, but plenty of soft dirt to be tucked up in. 

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. 23-4

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, December 14, 1862

Sunday morning opened finely; and after a quiet night we were up bright and early, starting at half-past seven for another day's tramp, which we are in good condition to do, having rested well yesterday. This is our fourth day from New Berne, and by the road we marched it is a considerably longer distance than by the Neuse Road, which, it is rumored, is heavily barricaded, and would have delayed us much.

We marched pretty steadily till about nine o'clock, when we heard firing ahead; and the artillery of our brigade went through the lines at double quick. Then we were drawn up in line in a field at the right of the road, piling up our knapsacks and leaving a man or two to guard them. We had an idea there was fighting ahead of us, but thought it quite a way off, until a few shells whistled unpleasantly near. Soon we had orders, "Forward!" We entered a swamp where we saw a number of the 45th M. V. wounded and many dead. Guns, knapsacks, and accoutrements scattered in all directions. It almost beggared description. Col. Lee was leading the way: our duty was to follow. We would have preferred going round that swamp. And such a place to drop in! Anyone shot there, took a chance of being drowned also. Up to our hips in water; strangled or tripped up by the grape-vines. Sometimes two would jump for the same hummock, and, striking midway, both would drop into the water. It was our “Slough of Despond;” and we were expecting each minute to receive a volley, and be served as the other regiments had been, but we were agreeably disappointed. There was plenty of shot and shell which went over our heads. When we were clear of the swamp we could see a building on top of the hill. It turned out to be a church. We arrived there just in time to see two or three hundred rebels being led to the rear, and another lot just coming in with a flag of truce. Our forces also captured a battery which the rebels could not carry off. We went back on the road to get our knapsacks, and then took our position in line. While waiting to move on, we saw a lot of muskets and rifles piled up beside the road. A splendid double-barrel gun took the eye of many, but it looked heavy, so it was left.

The enemy did not succeed in burning the bridge, although it was loaded with tar and cotton. The man detailed for this work started the fire, but probably his clothes, becoming saturated with spirits, took fire, as when we crossed we saw him lying in the mud under the bridge, badly burned and dead. The cotton was thrown overboard and the bridge saved.

We crossed about two o'clock P.M. After passing a formidable looking water-battery, just at the right of the bridge, we marched about two miles to Kinston, which was deserted, except by the darkies and occasionally a poor white. At the junction of the streets cotton was piled up and on fire,—a great waste of batting, but they probably thought it would impede our progress. If it had been the cause of the destruction of the place, Gen. Foster probably would have been blamed. We marched across the town, and while we saw most of the regiments bivouacking and getting their supper, we kept on about a mile, to drive the rebels from a hill from which they could shell the place. After losing two hours, we countermarched, camping close to the railroad station and a large corn elevator, where we had a good supper; after which, instead of turning in, some of us started on a "lark." We went through the post-office and other buildings, but were finally driven back by the cavalry. After visiting the corn elevator, which was on fire, and filling our canteens with water for morning, we tore down a fence back of the station, making some very nice beds, and turned in.

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. 25-6

 

Diary of Private Adam S. Johnston, May 14, 1862

Left Sugar creek camp and got to Rogersville, four miles from the Tennessee river, and had just unslung our knapsacks, when orders came for us to fall in and go double-quick down to the Tennessee river—that the rebels had attacked our cavalry at Lamb's Landing or Ferry, Laudle Co. Our first fire or engagement with the enemy. Two men of our forces were wounded and two horses killed. The rebels were compelled to retreat from there in double-quick order their loss unknown, as they retreated in the night. We returned to camp, making four miles to the battle-ground and four back again, in all a march of 8 miles; and having made 29 miles of a march the same day before being called into action, making a total march of 37 miles.

SOURCE: Adam S. Johnston, The Soldier Boy's Diary Book, p. 12-3

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, Monday, September 22, 1862

Knapsack drill to-day,—something new to me, though I am told it is to take place every Sunday morning when in camp. As we were not here yesterday, it was put off until to-day. We marched out to the drill ground with our knapsacks on, expecting to practice as usual, except that we were loaded that much heavier. As all our belongings were in our knapsacks, they were quite heavy. We formed in column by companies and were told to "unsling knapsacks." We all had to be coached, but we finally stood at attention with our knapsacks lying on the ground wide open before us. Then the colonel, the major and the captain of the company being inspected, marched along and with the tip of their swords poked over the contents, regardless of how precious they might be to us. And such a sight as they saw! Besides our extra underclothing, some clean and some unclean, there were Bibles, whiskey bottles, novels, packs of cards, love letters and photographs, revolvers and dirk knives, pen and ink, paper and envelopes and postage stamps, and an endless variety of odds and ends we had picked up in our travels.

As soon as the inspection was over with Company A, they were marched back to camp and so all along the line until Company B, the last of all, was reached. When we got back to camp some of the companies had been there long enough to get asleep. Nothing more was required of us, and we put in the time as we chose, provided always that we observed the camp regulations.

I may never have so good a chance, so I will try and explain some of the things we have learned to do and how we do it. Begin with roll-call. The orderly sergeant, Lew Holmes, has our names in a book, arranged in alphabetical order in one place, and in the order in which we march in another. If it is simply to see if we are all here, he sings out "Fall in for roll-call" and we get in line, with no regard to our proper places, and answer to our names as called from the alphabetical list. If for drill, "Fall in for drill!" and then we take our places with the tallest man at the right, and so on, till the last and shortest man is in place on the left. We are then in a single line, by company front. The orderly then points at the first man and says "One," which the man repeats. He then points to the second man and says "Two," which is also repeated. So it goes down the line, the one, two, being repeated, and each man being careful to remember whether he is odd or even. When that is done, and it is very quickly done, the orderly commands, "Right face!" The odd-numbered men simply swing on the left heel one quarter of the way around and stand fast. The even-numbered men do the same, and in addition step obliquely to the right of the odd-numbered man, bringing us in a double line and one step apart, which distance we must carefully keep, so that when the order "Front!" is given, we can, by reversing the movement of "Right face!" come to our places without crowding. When coming to a front, the line is not apt to be straight and the order "Right dress!" is given, when the man on the right stands fast and the one next to him puts himself squarely by his side. The next moves back or forth until he can just see the buttons on the coat of the second man to his right,—that is, with his head erect, he must look past one man and just see the buttons on the coat of the second man from him. That makes the line as straight as you can draw a string. "Left face!" is the same thing reversed. In marching, one has only to keep step with the one next in front of him. If this is done, the blame for irregular time all comes upon the file leaders, which are the two in front; they must keep step together. If Company B is going out to drill by itself it is now ready. If, however, the entire regiment is to drill together, as it has a few times, Company A marches out first, and as the rear passes where Company F is standing the latter falls in, close behind; and so each company, until Company B, which is the left of the line, and the last to go, falls in and fills up the line, Why the companies are arranged in the line as they are is a mystery I have so far failed to find out. From right to left they come in the following order: A, F, D, I, C, H, E, K, G and B. A is said to have the post of honor, because in marching by the right flank it is ahead, and meets danger first if there be any. Company B has the next most honorable position, because in marching by the left flank it is in the lead. There is a great advantage in being in the lead. On a march the files will open, more or less, and when a halt is ordered the company in the lead stops short. The other companies keep closing up the files, and by the time the ranks are closed "Attention!" may sound, and another start be made. The first company has had quite a breathing spell, while the last has had very little, if any. If I were to enlist again, I would try hard to get in Company A, for all the marching we have so far done has been by the right flank, Company A at the head and Company B bringing up the rear. When we reach the field we are generally broken up into companies, each company drilling in marching by the front, wheeling to the right and left, and finally coming together again before marching back to camp.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 34-6

Diary of Musician David Lane, October 28, 1862

Camp near Lovetsville, Va., Oct. 28th.

We bade farewell to Pleasant Valley, and started for the land of "Dixie" quite unexpectedly to us privates. Orders were issued on Saturday to the different companies to have their things packed and be ready to move at daybreak next morning. We were aroused at three o'clock, prepared and ate our breakfast, and at five o'clock were on the march. It had rained some during the night, and morning gave promise of a rainy day. Well did it fulfill its promise. About eight o'clock a drizzling rain set in, which continued until about one o'clock, when the wind changed to the north, increasing in violence until it blew a gale, which continued until morning, raining incessantly. The north winds here are very cold, and the poor soldiers, marching or standing all day in the rain, with sixty rounds of ammunition, three days' rations, knapsacks and blankets on their backs, passed a very uncomfortable day. But they bore it uncomplainingly, and when, about sundown, we pitched our little "dog tents" on the soaked and muddy ground with shouts and merry jests, we made a break for the nearest fence, and soon each company had a pile of dry chestnut rails, with which we kept a roaring fire until morning. Many of the men were wet to the skin, and, too cold to sleep, could be seen at any hour of the night in circles round their blazing campfires, talking over past scenes or future prospects. As I passed from group to group through the brigade, I noticed a feeling of discontent, caused by a lack of confidence in our leaders. The men seemed to feel we are being outgeneraled; that Lee's army, and not Richmond, should be the objective point; that the rebellion can never be put down until that army is annihilated. When I returned to our company the boys had arranged it all—the President is to retire all generals, select men from the ranks who will serve without pay, and will lead the army against Lee, strike him hard and follow him up until he fails to come to time. So passed this fearful night away.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 20-1

 

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, October 2, 1862

We have had two practice-marches lately, one a long one, in Milton Hill direction, where we found plenty of dust, but were assured we were making muscle; and the last to Dedham Village, were we were very pleasantly received by the people, especially the ladies. Those of us who could, cleared out and introduced ourselves (temporarily) among the first families, and were feasted right royally. We had hardly arrived at camp again from this expedition, the object of which we accomplished, when we were startled with rumors that our regiment was ordered off. Some said to the Potomac, some to New Orleans, and others to North Carolina. The general idea seems to be that no one knows much about it, and one young lady was heard to say, "Well, I am going to New York Tuesday, to be gone three months, and I don't believe, but that the boys will be in Readville when I come back; any way, I won't say good-bye for good." If we go to New Berne, it is expected and hoped by the 4th Battalion men that they will be brigaded with Col. Stevenson, giving him a star. There has been quite a discussion about our knapsacks. The boys don't want the army style, but if the other companies have it, we probably will have to put up with it, many would care nothing for any kind, and probably whichever we have, some will throw them away. There is talk that all the companies will have "Shorts."

Wm. Cumston, Esq., father of our second lieutenant, has presented the boys with five hundred dollars, as a fund to use in case of sickness, to buy fresh food with. It is a noble present, and the boys fully appreciate it.

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. 10

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, October 17, 1862

We have had another march, this time about ten miles, through Dedham and towards Boston; the nearest we came to the city was West Roxbury. Probably we will not see much more of Boston, for the rumors are getting thicker and more substantial; but on this march, the boys who went, saw enough to make them wish to keep on to the city.

Our company is under great obligations to the following Boston gentlemen for the sum of three hundred dollars, with which to buy the patent knapsack: J. M. Beebe & Co., F. Skinner & Co., Alex. Beal, C. W. Cartwright, W. P. Sargent, Read, Gardner & Co., Wilkinson, Stetson & Co., Horatio Harris, J. R. Tibbets, E. & F. King & Co., G. Rogers, and J. C. Converse & Co.; and it is understood measures are being taken to furnish the other companies, so we will be equipped alike. The only trouble being can they be finished in time. This week which looks like the last one to be passed here, has been dismal enough, it has rained a good part of the time, and to crown all, we can't smoke in the barracks. Corporals or no corporals, it is hard work to keep us down. We had a fair time, and many a smoke under cover.

Some one has seen a box of one of the staff officers, marked New Berne, so unless it was a blind, that is our destination, the boys don't care much where, but only to get started. The last few days have finished the business; it is muddy, damp, and growing colder gradually, and we want to get away. Our last furloughs are gone, and the sooner we go the better.

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

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 Private John J. Wyeth, October 29, 1862

Those of us who are on guard to-day are having a “soft time.” We have our orders to start at three to-morrow morning. The boys are busy packing, receiving cartridges, &c.; the cooks are hard at work in their department, and the surgeon is hunting for men to guard camp. We were afraid the guard were to be left, but the captain says he won't forget us. The knapsacks are to be stored in the officers' tents, and we are ordered to get all the sleep we can from now till four to-morrow, perhaps the last nap under cover for weeks.

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. 16

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, Monday, September 8, 1862

Monday morning. Our first night in Baltimore is over. We had roll-call, to see if we were all here, and then spread our blankets on the ground and were soon sound asleep. Walt. Loucks and I each having a blanket, we spread one on the ground and the other over us. With our knapsacks for a pillow, we slept as sound as if in the softest bed. The dew, however, was heavy, and only for the blanket over us we would have been wet through. As it was, our hair was as wet as if we had been swimming. Sleeping on the ground, in clothing already wet with sweat, and the night being quite cool, has stiffened our joints, so we move about like foundered horses. Had the Rebs come upon us when we first got up we couldn't have run away and we certainly were not in a condition to defend ourselves. But this wore off after a little, and we were ourselves again. As it was in Hudson, so it is here. All sorts of rumors as to what we do next are going the rounds. I have given up believing anything, and shall wait until we do something or go somewhere, and then, diary, I'll tell you all about it.

Night. We put in the day sitting around and swapping yarns, etc. None of us cared to go about, for we were pretty tired, after our hard day yesterday. Shelter tents were given out to-day. One tent for every two men. They are not tents at all, nothing but a strip of muslin, with three sticks to hold them up. There are four pins to pin the corners to the ground. Then one stick is put in like a ridge pole, and the other two set under it. The ends are pinned down as far apart as a man is long, and then the middle raised up. They may keep off rain, if it falls straight down, but both ends are open, and two men fill it full. We have got them up, each company in a row. It is a funny sight to stand on the high ground and look over them. Lengthwise, it is like a long strip of muslin with what a dressmaker calls gathers in it. Looked at from the side it is like a row of capital A's with the cross up and down instead of crosswise.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 20-1

Diary of Private Bartlett Yancey Malone, February 28, 1862

clear but very windey and cool And ther was a wright smart stir in camps today for we had orders to pack our knapsacks and to be ready to march at a moments warning but wher we was to go too we did not no. Spring is now come.

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 15

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, October 4, 1863

This morning at seven A. M., we leave our old camp at Corinth, with all our camp and garrison equipage. The Seventh, as they move through Corinth with their knapsacks strapped to their mules, and with their long train of pack mules, look very much like an immense caravan starting on a pilgrimage. After about three hours ride we arrive at Chewalla, finding fine quarters and fine grounds, &c. The Eighteenth Missouri are now leaving, and as fast as they vacate we take possession. This evening the men are busy cleaning up and arranging their quarters.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 198

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: May 3, 1864

YORKTOWN.

On the 27th of April we broke camp at Getty's station, arriving here about dark, and marched up the Williamsburg road about two miles where we bivouacked. On this trip we were furnished transportation. On the morning of the 29th we were ordered into camp about three miles higher up the road. We had not much more than got up there when an order came for us to report at the landing immediately. We now had a five mile march before us, with the dust in the road about three inches deep. This was no march but a race, the companies trying to run past each other and get the advance to shield themselves from the dust. The colonel let them have it their own way and they made the dust fly right smart. We made the distance in less than an hour and on arriving at the landing looked like walking dirt heaps. A guard was placed along the bank of the river to prevent our washing in it for fear of creating a sand bar. There didn't appear to be anything wanted of us after we got here and we are now in camp on the bluff just above the landing.

Our brigade now consists of the 9th New Jersey and the 23d, 25th and 27th Massachusetts, under command of Brig. Gen. C. A. Heckman, and is known as the 1st brigade, 2d division, 18th army corps, under command of Gen. William F. Smith, otherwise known as “Baldy." Our knapsacks have been sent back to Portsmouth and we are now in light marching order, having only the clothing we have on and our blankets. Our camp equipage consists of two camp kettles for each company, and shelter tents. These tents are simply pieces of cotton cloth, about six feet long by four wide, made to button together, and every man is supplied with one which he carries with his blanket. Ordinarily they are used as blankets, but in case of a storm three of them are buttoned together, two forming the roof and the other the end, which makes a kind of burrow which partly shelters three men. We fellows who are used to roughing it think it all well enough, but I feel sorry for the officers; it will come pretty hard on them. It is something they are not used to and besides it sort of reduces them to the ranks.

Yorktown is hardly as much today as it was the day of Cornwallis' surrender, and I don't think there has been a nail driven or an ounce of paint used since. There is the old church and about a dozen weather-beaten old houses, the most pretentious of which was Cornwallis' headquarters.

The 18th corps are all here, infantry, artillery and cavalry, and yesterday Gen. Butler reviewed them. The review came off on the plain below the town and was quite an imposing affair. We came a very clever little dodge on the enemy last night. About midnight we were all routed up and every man given a chunk of raw salt pork. After standing there about half an hour holding our pork and awaiting further developments, we were then told we might go back to bed again. Now that was taking a mean advantage of a brave and chivalrous foe, thus to conceal the kind and quantity of our rations. They are probably thinking that we have nothing to eat and are keeping up their hopes that we shall soon surrender.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 136-7

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, May 13, 1862

Skirmishing still going on. In the evening we move our camp two miles forward, crossing the Mississippi line. We move with one hundred cartridges, packed away in knapsacks—a mule load. The weather is extremely warm. We again throw up a line of works-bomb proof.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 70-1