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

To-day, for a change, we had permission to drill outside the lines, and Orderly White, at the earnest solicitation of some of us, took the company to Dedham on a double quick, Dedham is about four miles from camp, and after the first hill, close to the old house where we used to run guard and get pies and cakes, it is a very level and easy run; we never stopped the steady jog till we reached the Phoenix House. Only one man fell out; but nothing but pride kept many of us in the line. It was the first attempt at such work, and came like drawing teeth. The orderly was level-headed enough not to let us drink anything for sometime, but after we had rested about fifteen minutes and cooled off, he obtained some lemonade, which was excellent.

We then formed line and started back to camp, returning by a different road, arriving there about four o'clock P.M., and then the orderly thought of the battalion drill, ordered at half-past three. As we looked down on the camp from the old railroad track, back of the barracks, we could see the regiment in line, and the grounds crowded with our friends. We had no conversation with the colonel on this subject, but soon found out he was mad, for we were put in the street next our barracks, and guards placed at each end, not even being allowed to go into the barrack to wash up, and our friends were denied us. We stood there in disgrace till dress parade. We were very much afraid the whole company would be discharged the service. There were some rumors of breaking the orderly, but they did not do so. We did not run away much after that.

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. 8-9

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 9, 1861

What a wonderful effect the hardships of camp life, with the troubles and cares which they entail on a surgeon, have had on my health. For many years I have been dyspeptic. Now I can eat what I please, and go without sleep almost entirely, and suffer no inconvenience. Last night, at 11 o'clock, after having ate a piece of hard salt beef for my supper, I "cared for" a pint of rich ice cream, and feel no inconvenience from it to-day. This would kill an ordinary civil man. I have to work very hard, but feel it a great comfort to work amongst the sick without suffering from fatigue, as I have been accustomed to.

Having received an order this morning from Gen. Dix to put all my sick into general hospital, and finding them bitterly opposed, I visited Fort McHenry, saw Gen. D., and prevailed on him to rescind the order.

I was highly gratified with what I saw at Fort McHenry. It, being the first equipped fort I ever saw, was an object of much interest; its numerous cannon, large enough for a small soldier to sleep in, pointing in all directions overlooking Baltimore and guarding all the approaches to it. No matter from what direction you come, you find these monster guns looking right in your face. Low down behind the walls lie almost innumerable ugly bull-dog-looking mortars, not over two and a half feet long, loaded with a 20 to 40-pound shells filling them to the very muzzle, and ready to be vomited forth at the first approach of trouble. There, too, is the great Dahlgren, stretching its long black neck away beyond the embrasures, as if looking for an object into which to pour its monster shot and shell, or its shower of grape and cannister. Its howitzers are there, and its great Columbiads, into some of which I was strongly tempted to crawl and take a nap, but a sudden recollection of the history of Jonah reminded me that its stomach, too, might sicken, and that I might awake in a trip across the mighty deep on the wings of the wind. I didn't go in. The bright little brass 6, 8, and 10pounders, on the greater number of which Napoleon said God always smiled in battles, were conspicuous amongst these great leviathans, and above all, the newly invented rifle cannon, ready to demolish ships or houses at two to five miles distance.

Have lost no man yet from sickness, but I have one who, I fear, will not recover. He is supposed to be poisoned by a glass of lemonade, bought of a man suspected of being a rebel.

I have succeeded, by selling a half barrel of flour, and by the approval of a small requisition made on the commissary, in getting provisions of all kinds to make my little detachment comfortable.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 10-12