Diary of Dolly Lunt Burge: July 22, 1864

[The day of the battle of Atlanta]

We have heard the loud booming of cannon all day. Mr. Ward [the overseer] went over to the burial of Thomas Harwell, whose death I witnessed yesterday. They had but just gone when the Rev. A. Turner, wife, and daughter drove up with their wagons, desiring to rest awhile. They went into the ell [a large back room] and lay down, I following them, wishing to enjoy their company. Suddenly I saw the servants running to the palings, and I walked to the door, when I saw such a stampede as I never witnessed before. The road was full of carriages, wagons, men on horseback, all riding at full speed. Judge Floyd stopped, saying: “Mrs. Burge, the Yankees are coming. They have got my family, and here is all I have upon earth. Hide your mules and carriages and whatever valuables you have.”

Sadai [Mrs. Surge's nine-year-old daughter] said:

“Oh, Mama, what shall we do?”

“Never mind, Sadai,” I said. “They won't hurt you, and you must help me hide my things.”

I went to the smoke-house, divided out the meat to the servants, and bid them hide it. Julia [a slave] took a jar of lard and buried it. In the meantime Sadai was taking down and picking up our clothes, which she was giving to the servants to hide in their cabins; silk dresses, challis, muslins, and merinos, linens, and hosiery, all found their way into the chests of the women and under their beds; china and silver were buried underground, and Sadai bid Mary [a slave] hide a bit of soap under some bricks, that mama might have a little left. Then she came to me with a part of a loaf of bread, asking if she had not better put it in her pocket, that we might have something to eat that night. And, verily, we had cause to fear that we might be homeless, for on every side we could see smoke arising from burning buildings and bridges.

Major Ansley, who was wounded in the hip in the battle of Missionary Ridge, and has not recovered, came with his wife, sister, two little ones, and servants. He was traveling in a bed in a small wagon. They had thought to get to Eatonton, but he was so wearied that they stopped with me for the night. I am glad to have them. I shall sleep none to-night. The woods are full of refugees.

SOURCE: Dolly Lunt Burge, A Woman's Wartime Journal, p. 4-6

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, March 22, 1862

Raleigh, Virginia, March 22, 1862.

Dearest: — Your letters, 13th and 15th, reached me yesterday. Also the gloves and [percussion] caps. They suit perfectly.

You don't know how I enjoy reading your accounts of the boys. Webb is six years old. Dear little fellow, how he will hate books. Don't be too hard with him. Birch's praying is really beautiful.

We are in the midst of one of the storms so frequent in these mountains. We call it the equinoctial and hope when it is over we shall have settled weather. It is snowing in great flakes which stick to the foliage of the pine and other evergreen trees on the hills, giving the scene in front of the window near me a strangely wintry appearance.

To kill time, I have been reading “Lucile” again, and you may know I think of you constantly and oh, so lovingly as I read. When I read it first we were on the steamer in the St. Lawrence River below Quebec. What a happy trip that was! It increased my affection for you almost as much as my late visit home. Well, well, you know all this. You know “I love you so much.”

We are all feeling very hopeful. We expect to move soon and rapidly, merely because Fremont is commander. I do not see but this war must be soon decided. McClellan seems determined, and I think he is able to force the retreating Manassas army to a battle or to an equally disastrous retreat. A victory there ends the contest. I think we shall be months, perhaps even years, getting all the small parties reduced, but the Rebellion as a great peril menacing the Union will be ended.

General Beckley, whose sword-belt Webby wears, came in and surrendered to me a few days ago. Mrs. Beckley brought me his note. She is a lady of good qualities. Of course, there were tears, etc., etc., which I was glad to relieve. The old general is an educated military gentleman of the old Virginia ways — weak, well-intentioned, and gentlemanly; reminds one of the characters about Chillicothe, from Virginia — probably of less strength of character than most of them. A citizen here described him to Dr. McCurdy as “light of talent but well educated.”

Gray, “the blind soldier” you saw at Camp Chase, is, I notice, on duty and apparently perfectly well. Gray, the orderly, you saw drunk is in good condition again, professing contrition, etc. McKinley is bright and clean, looking his best. Inquires if you see his wife.

So, you go to Fremont. You will once in a while see our men there, too. Some five or six Twenty-third men belong in that region.

You ought to see what a snow-storm is blowing. Whew! I had a tent put up a few days ago for an office. Before I got it occupied the storm came on and now it is split in twain.

Our regiment was never so fine-looking as now. It is fun to see them. No deaths, I believe, for two months and no sickness worth mentioning. Chiefly engaged hunting bushwhackers. Our living is hard, the grub I mean, and likely not to improve. Salt pork and crackers. The armies have swept off all fresh meats and vegetables. A few eggs once in a great while. Love to Grandma and all the boys.

Affectionately, as ever,

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 214-6

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: March 11, 1865

Sheridan's raid through the country is perfectly awful, and he has joined Grant, without being caught. Oh, how we listened to hear that he had been arrested in his direful career! It was, I suppose, the most cruel and desolating raid upon record — more lawless, if possible, than Hunter's. He had an overwhelming force, spreading ruin through the Upper Valley, the Piedmont country, the tide-water country, until he reached Grant. His soldiers were allowed to commit any cruelty on non-combatants that suited their rapacious tempers — stealing every thing they could find; ear-rings, breastpins, and finger-rings were taken from the first ladies of the land; nothing escaped them which was worth carrying off from the already desolated country. And can we feel patient at the idea of such soldiers coming to Richmond, the target at which their whole nation, from their President to the meanest soldier upon their army-rolls, has been aiming for four years? Oh, I would that I could see Richmond burnt to the ground by its own people, with not one brick left upon another, before its defenceless inhabitants should be subjected to such degradation!

Fighting is still going on; so near the city, that the sound of cannon is ever in our ears. Farmers are sending in produce which they cannot spare, but which they give with a spirit of self-denial rarely equalled. Ladies are offering their jewelry, their plate, any thing which can be converted into money, for the country. I have heard some of them declare, that, if necessary, they will cut off their long suits of hair, and send them to Paris to be sold for bread for the soldiers; and there is not a woman, worthy of the name of Southerner, who would not do it, if we could get it out of the country, and bread or meat in return. Some gentlemen are giving up their watches, when every thing else has been given. A colonel of our army was seen the other night, after a stirring appeal had been made for food for the soldiers, to approach the speaker's stand with his watch in his hand, saying: “I have no money, nor provisions; my property was ruined by Hunter's raid last summer; my watch is very dear to me from association, but it must be sold for bread.” Remembering, as he put it down, that it had been long worn by his wife, now dead, though not a man who liked or approved of scenes, he obeyed the affectionate impulse of his heart, took it up quickly, kissed it, and replaced it on the table.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 340-1

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: February 28, 1865

Our new Commissary-General is giving us brighter hopes for Richmond by his energy. Not a stone is left unturned to collect all the provisions from the country Ministers of the Gospel and others have gone out to the various county towns and court-houses, to urge the people to send in every extra bushel of corn or pound of meat for the army. The people only want enlightening on the subject; it is no want of patriotism which makes them keep any portion of their provisions. Circulars are sent out to the various civil and military officers in all disenthralled counties in the State, — which, alas! when compared with the whole, are very few, — to ask for their superfluities. All will answer promptly, I know, and generously.

Since I last wrote in my diary, our Essex friends have again most liberally replenished our larder just as they did this time last year — if possible, more generously. The Lord reward them!

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 333-4

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Saturday, March 14, 1863, 5 o’clock P.M.

They are coming! The Yankees are coming at last! For four or five hours the sound of their cannon has assailed our ears. There! — that one shook my bed! Oh, they are coming! God grant us the victory! They are now within four miles of us, on the big road to Baton Rouge. On the road from town to Clinton, we have been fighting since daylight at Readbridge, and have been repulsed. Fifteen gunboats have passed Vicksburg, they say. It will be an awful fight. No matter! With God's help we'll conquer yet! Again! — the report comes nearer. Oh, they are coming! Coming to defeat, I pray God.

Only we seven women remain in the house. The General left this morning, to our unspeakable relief. They would hang him, we fear, if they should find him here. Mass' Gene has gone to his company; we are left alone here to meet them. If they will burn the house, they will have to burn me in it. For I cannot walk, and I know they shall not carry me. I'm resigned. If I should burn, I have friends and brothers enough to avenge me. Create such a consternation! Better than being thrown from a buggy — only I'd not survive to hear of it!

Letter from Lilly to-day has distressed me beyond measure. Starvation which threatened them seems actually at their door. With more money than they could use in ordinary times, they can find nothing to purchase. Not a scrap of meat in the house for a week. No pork, no potatoes, fresh meat obtained once as a favor, and poultry and flour articles unheard of. Besides that, Tiche crippled, and Margret very ill, while Liddy has run off to the Yankees. Heaven only knows what will become of them. The other day we were getting ready to go to them (Thursday) when the General disapproved of my running such a risk, saying he'd call it a d--- piece of nonsense, if I asked what he thought; so we remained. They will certainly starve soon enough without our help; and yet — I feel we should all be together still. That last superfluous word is the refrain of Gibbes's song that is ringing in my ears, and that I am chanting in a kind of ecstasy of excitement: —

“Then let the cannon boom as it will,

We’ll be gay and happy still!”

And we will be happy in spite of Yankee guns! Only — my dear This, That, and the Other, at Port Hudson, how I pray for your safety! God spare our brave soldiers, and lead them to victory! I write, touch my guitar, talk, pick lint, and pray so rapidly that it is hard to say which is my occupation. I sent Frank some lint the other day, and a bundle of it for Mr. Halsey is by me. Hope neither will need it! But to my work again!

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 335-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 23, 1862

Oh, the extortioners! Meats of all kinds are selling at 50 cts. per pound; butter, 75 cts.; coffee, $1.50; tea, $10; boots, $30 per pair; shoes, $18; ladies' shoes, $15; shirts, $6 each. Houses that rented for $500 last year, are $1000 now. Boarding, from $30 to $40 per month. Gen. Winder has issued an order fixing the maximum prices of certain articles of marketing, which has only the effect of keeping a great many things out of market. The farmers have to pay the merchants and Jews their extortionate prices, and complain very justly of the partiality of the general. It does more harm than good.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 128

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Tuesday, April 14, 1863

When we roused up at 4 A.M. we found our clothes saturated with the heavy dew; also that, notwithstanding our exertions, the hogs had devoured the greatest part of our pet kid, our only fresh meat.

After feeding our mules upon the Indian corn we had brought with us, and drinking a little more saltwater coffee, the Judge “hitched in,” and we got under way at 5.30 A.M. The country just the same as yesterday — a dead level of sand, mosquite trees, and prickly pears.

At 7.30 A.M. we reached “Leatham's ranch,” and watered our mules. As the water was tolerable, we refilled our water-barrels. I also washed my face, during which operation Mr. Sargent expressed great astonishment, not unmingled with contempt.

At Leatham's we met a wealthy Texan speculator and contractor called Major or Judge Hart.

I find that our Judge is also an M.P., and that, in his capacity as a member of the Texan legislature, he is entitled to be styled the Honourable —— ——.

At 9 A.M. we halted in the middle of a prairie, on which there was a little grass for the mules, and we prepared to eat. In the midst of our cooking, two deer came up quite close to us, and could easily have been killed with rifles.

We saw quantities of rat-ranches, which are big sort of mole-hills, composed of cow-dung, sticks, and earth, built by the rats.

Mr. Sargent, our conductor, is a very rough customer — a fat, middle-aged man, who never opens his mouth without an oath, strictly American in its character. He and the judge are always snarling at one another, and both are much addicted to liquor.

We live principally on bacon and coffee, but as the water and the bacon are both very salt, this is very inconvenient. We have, however, got some claret, and plenty of brandy.

During the mid-day halts Mr. Sargent is in the habit of cooling himself by removing his trousers (or pants), and, having gorged himself, he lies down and issues his edicts to the judge as to the treatment of the mules.

At 2.30 the M.P. hitched in again, and at 2.45 we reached a salt-water arm of the sea called the “Aroyo del Colorado,” about eighty yards broad, which we crossed in a ferry-boat. Half an hour later we “struck water” again, which, being superior to Leatham's, we filled up.

We are continually passing cotton trains going to Brownsville, also government waggons with stores for the interior. Near every well is a small farm or ranch, a miserable little wooden edifice surrounded by a little cultivation. The natives all speak Spanish, and wear the Mexican dress.

M'Carthy is very proud of his knowledge of the country, in spite of which he is often out in his calculations. The different tracks are so similar to one another, they are easily mistaken.

At 4.45 P.M. we halted at a much better place than yesterday. We are obliged to halt where a little grass can be found for our mules.

Soon after we had unpacked for the night, six Texan Rangers, of “Wood's” regiment, rode up to us. They were very picturesque fellows; tall, thin, and ragged, but quite gentlemanlike in their manners.

We are always to sleep in the open until we arrive at San Antonio, and I find my Turkish lantern most useful at night.*

_______________

* A lantern for a candle, made of white linen and wire, which collapses when not in use. They are always used in the streets of Constantinople. The Texans admired it immensely.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three months in the southern states: April-June, 1863, p. 27-9

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: April 1, 1864

My diary has been somewhat neglected, for after looking over commissary accounts for six hours in the day, and attending to home or hospital duties in the afternoon, I am too much wearied to write much at night. There are reports of movements in the armies which portend bloody work as the season advances. Oh that the Lord may have us in his holy keeping!

We continue quite comfortable at home. Of course provisions are scarce; but, thanks to our country friends and relatives, we have never been obliged to give up meat entirely. My brother-in-law, Mr. N[ewton], has lately sent us twelve hams, so that we are much better supplied thau most persons. Groceries are extremely high. We were fortunate in buying ten pounds of tea, when it only sold for $22 per pound. Coffee now sells for $12, and brown sugar at $10 per pound. White sugar is not to be thought of by persons of moderate means. Milk is very scarce and high, so that we have only had it once for many months; and we, the Colonel, Mr. ––––, and myself, are very glad to get a cup of tea, night and morning, sweetened with brown sugar, and without milk or cream. Before the war we would have scorned it, but now we enjoy it exceedingly, and feel ourselves very much blessed to have it. The girls have given up tea and coffee; I attempted to do it, and for several days drank only water, but such is the effect of habit upon old people, it made me perfectly miserable; I lost my elasticity of spirit; the accounts in the office went on heavily, everybody asked me if I had heard any bad news, and the family begged me not to look so unhappy. I struggled and strived against the feeling, but the girls pronounced me utterly subjugated, and insisted on my returning to my old beverage. I found myself much more easily persuaded than it is my wont to be, and was happy to resume my brown-sugar tea without cream.

On going down-stairs this evening, I found my friend Mrs. Upshur awaiting me in the parlour. She is the widow of the Hon. Abel P. Upshur, Secretary of War in Mr. Tyler's administration, whose untimely end we remember so well. She is a refugee from Washington, and called to ask me to assist her in finding a room to accommodate herself, her sister, and her little grandson. Her present room, in the third story of a very nice house, suited her very well, but the price was raised every month, until it had become beyond her means. She is rich, but it is almost impossible for her to get funds from Washington. To obtain a room is a most difficult task, but I cheerfully promised her to do what I could; but that I must first go up the street to get some flour, for as it was $300 per barrel, we could not get one, but must purchase it at $1.25 per pound, until we could get some wheat, which we were then expecting from the country, and have it ground. She at once insisted on lending me flour until ours was ground; this being agreed to, we continued on our walk in pursuit of the room. We naturally talked of the past. She related to me a circumstance which occurred when I was a young girl, and was a striking illustration of the change which time and the war had brought on us both. She said that during the political Convention of 1829-30, she came to Richmond with her husband, who was a member of it. The first entertainment to which she was invited was given at my father's house. When she entered the room my mother was standing about the centre of it, receiving her guests, and seeing that Mrs. Upshur was young and a perfect stranger, she took her by the hand and seated her by Mrs. Madison, at the same time introducing her to that celebrated woman. She said it was one of the most pleasant evenings of her life, and she looked back upon it with peculiar satisfaction, for she was then introduced to Mr. Madison, Mr. Monroe, Mr. Benjamin Watkins Leigh, and many others of the celebrated men of the day, who were attending the Convention. Could we then have looked through the vista of time, and have seen ourselves in this same city, the one looking for a cheap room in somebody's third story, the other looking for cheap bread, would we have believed it? The anecdote saddened us both for a time, but we soon recovered, and went on our way in cheerful, hopeful conversation. But we did not find the room.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 257-9

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: February 28, 1864

Our hearts ache for the poor. A few days ago, as E. was walking out, she met a wretchedly dressed woman, of miserable appearance, who said she was seeking the Young Men's Christian Association, where she hoped to get assistance and work to do. E. carried her to the door, but it was closed, and the poor woman's wants were pressing. She then brought her home, supplied her with food, and told her to return to see me the following afternoon. She came, and with an honest countenance and manner told me her history. Her name is Brown; her husband had been a workman in Fredericksburg; he joined the army, and was killed at the second battle of Manassas. Many of her acquaintances in Fredericksburg fled last winter during the bombardment; she became alarmed, and with her three little children fled too. She had tried to get work in Richmond; sometimes she succeeded, but could not supply her wants. A kind woman had lent her a room and a part of a garden, but it was outside of the corporation; and although it saved house-rent, it debarred her from the relief of the associations formed for supplying the city poor with meal, wood, etc. She had evidently been in a situation little short of starvation. I asked her if she could get bread enough for her children by her work? She said she could sometimes, and when she could not, she “got turnip-tops from her piece of a garden, which were now putting up smartly, and she boiled them, with a little salt, and fed them on that.” “But do they satisfy your hunger,” said I? “Well, it is something to go upon for awhile, but it does not stick by us like as bread does, and then we gets hungry again, and I am afraid to let the children eat them too often, lest they should get sick; so I tries to get them to go to sleep; and sometimes the woman in the next room will bring the children her leavings, but she is monstrous poor.” When I gave her meat for her children, taken from the bounty of our Essex friends, tears of gratitude ran down her cheeks; she said they “had not seen meat for so long.” Poor thing, I promised her that her case should be known, and that she should not suffer so again. A soldier's widow shall not suffer from hunger in Richmond. It must not be, and will not be when her case is known. Others are now interested for her. This evening Mrs. R. and myself went in pursuit of her; but though we went through all the streets and lanes of “Butcher Flat” and other vicinities, we could get no clue to her. We went into many small and squalid-looking houses, yet we saw no such abject poverty as Mrs. Brown's. All who needed it were supplied with meal by the corporation, and many were supporting themselves with Government work. One woman stood at a table cutting out work; we asked her the stereotyped question — “Is there a very poor widow named Brown in this direction?” “No, ladies; I knows two Mrs. Browns, but they ain't so poor, and ain't no widows nuther.” As neither of them was our Mrs. B., we turned away; but she suddenly exclaimed, “Ladies, will one of you read my husband's last letter to me? for you see I can't read writing.” As Mrs. R. took it, she remarked that it was four weeks old, and asked if no one had read it to her?” Oh yes, a gentleman has read it to me four or five times; but you see I loves to hear it, for may-be I shan't hear from him no more.” The tears now poured down her cheeks. “He always writes to me every chance, and it has been so long since he wrote that, and they tell me that they have been fighting, and may-be something has happened to him.” We assured her that there had been no fighting — not even a skirmish. This quieted her, and Mrs. R. read the badly written but affectionate letter, in which he expresses his anxiety to see her and his children, and his inability to get a furlough. She then turned to the mantelpiece, and with evident pride took from a nail an old felt hat, through the crown of which were two bullet-holes. It was her husband's hat, through which a bullet had passed in the battle of Chancellorsville, and, as she remarked, must have come “very nigh grazing his head.” We remarked upon its being a proof of his bravery, which gratified her very much ; she then hung it up carefully, saying that it was just opposite her bed, and she never let it be out of her sight. She said she wanted her husband to fight for his country, and not “to stand back, like some women's husbands, to be drafted; she would have been ashamed of that, but she felt uneasy, because something told her that he would never get back.” Poor woman! we felt very much interested in her, and tried to comfort her.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 252-5

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Wednesday, November 23, 1864

We started at 7 a. m. and marched twelve miles, when we bivouacked for the night. It is reported that a force of two thousand rebels is in our front beyond the Oconee river, and that there has been some skirmishing. We crossed the Savannah railroad here at Station No. 15. This station was burned last July by General Stoneman in his raid toward Macon, Georgia. The country is very heavily timbered, mostly pitch pine, but there are some very nice plantations. The negroes have all been run off to keep them from falling into the hands of our army. We are now on three-fifths rations and are foraging for meat.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 231

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Wednesday, June 22, 1864

It has cleared off and is quite warm today. The rebels commenced shelling us this morning, but did little damage, as their shells fell short of our lines, on account of their insufficient charges of powder, we suppose, and because their guns are too small to stand heavier charges. Our batteries opened up and exchanged shots with them for about two hours. Our men commenced throwing up heavy earthworks this evening. Company C went out on picket this evening. There have been no trains coming in to Big Shanty for the last two days on account of the rebels' destroying the railroad on this side of Chattanooga; but it will be repaired in a few days. Our army draws full rations with the exception of meat, of which we are allowed but three-fifths rations.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 200

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, May 29, 1864

It was 9 o'clock before we got started this morning and though the country here between two mountains is very rough, we covered fourteen miles and went into camp in the mountains for the first time. Large foraging parties were sent out this morning to secure meat. Our advance lines had a skirmish with the rebels this afternoon. The health of the men is good, but many have sore feet from the hard marching.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 191

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, May 8, 1864

All is quiet. We had dress parade this evening and an order was read to the effect that the troops should drill two hours a day in company or skirmish drill, and besides that, the recruits should drill four hours a day; also that there are to be four roll calls a day, and company inspection every morning at 8 o'clock. There are about five thousand men in camp under command of Brig. Gen. F. M. Force, and all are in fine spirits and well fitted for a fight. The general quartermaster has large quantities of rations and ammunition here, and there are some three or four thousand beef cattle for our meat supply. This camp puts us in mind of our camp at Pittsburg Landing, two years ago, but I do not think that we will have such a battle as we had then, although the rebels' cavalry is quite active.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 186

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: June 24, 1864

Did not have to hurry up this morning. After breakfast, orders were, we remain here for the day. I started out to find water where I could take a bath. While hunting for such a place I met Sergeant Samuel Lee, Co. A, who was on the same errand. Together we hunted for water through the lots. We were rewarded by finding a small brook with a deep hole, close to the foot of a high mountain. A good clean place. Water enough for a good bath but not for a swim. Remained in the water for a long time. After the bath we visited the springs. Drank freely of its waters. Walked around the grounds and in some of the buildings. The soldiers raised havoc with the place. It was a fine property, badly ruined. At the springs we met our Colonel and Colonel Rodgers, and Maryland. Our Colonel said, “Boys, you ought to find a place for a bath.” We informed him, “We just came out of the water.” “Where?” he asked. We pointed out the place across a lot. Thanking us, they made tracks for the place. We lay down under the fine trees for a rest. This is certainly a beautiful place. On returning to the regiment, orders had been given that we leave in the early evening for an all night's march. It is done on account of the extreme heat. After a feed of fresh meat and coffee, line was formed and ready for the march.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 85

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: June 23, 1864

Left New Castle very early this hot morning. No air in these valleys of Virginia and West Virginia. Most of our rations consist of fresh meat. It is brought in to us in the night and cooked in the night, broiled on the end of a ramrod. It is hard to keep out of our minds, but is generally believed that we are eating horse and mule meat. When we left Cedar Creek on this raid, General Hunter informed us that we might be obliged to eat horse flesh before our return. At that time we were ordered to be careful of our rations.

All the roads in the mountains and valleys are bad, hard for our feet. It is now thought that we are in the Alleghany Mountains. In spite of all our hardships we cannot help admiring the scenery. How we could enjoy it if we had plenty to eat and could take our time marching along. Up and down, over the mountains we go, until we reach the Sweet Springs, twenty-six miles from New Castle. Here we are to stop for the night. Large fine buildings here. A resort. Deserted. Generals Hunter and Crook located headquarters in a large, fine building. Our regiment stopping nearby. Rations for tonight, plenty of fresh meat and coffee. While we are all tired, foot-sore, and near used up, there is but little growling or fault-finding. Keep up courage very well as we endure these hardships, all for our country. While the days are hot, the nights are cool.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 84

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: June 21, 1864

After an all night's march, we reach the town of Salem, Roanoke county, Virginia, located near the mountains. The scenery good. After we came to a halt by the roadside, tired — worn out —  hungry, leaning up against a rail fence, I soon fell asleep. Later I was awakened by the cavalry, then had to find my company. By the buildings I should judge that this is a college town. Our regiment detailed as rear guard. Colonel Ely again in command, the wound in the neck having improved. Ordered, with a battery, to march back about one mile, pushing the enemy back and holding them in check while the army wagons and artillery passed through the gap near Salem, Blue Ridge Mountains. While we are holding the enemy in check our Colonel acts as though he was nervous. If the enemy is strong enough, we may get cut off and perhaps captured before our turn comes to march through the gap, we are so far in the rear with the battery. Late in the day orders came for us to march on through the gap into the mountains where we were surprised to see some of the wagons and a battery badly damaged. A portion of the train was not guarded when a dash was made by guerillas who were in ambush in the woods. A detachment of our cavalry was soon on the ground with the Spencer carbine, routed and captured a number of the guerillas. Reported we are headed for a place called New Castle. After a short rest we received a small piece of fresh meat. Pushing along, expecting to stop for the night. Hungry and thirsty. Very little water to be found in these mountains. Footsore and very tired. Wonderful what men can endure. It is either push ahead or be left and made a prisoner.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 82-3

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: June 9, 1864

This morning still finds us at Staunton. Called out early. Marched through the town. Destruction goes on. It certainly looks bad for this town. It seems to be a part of war. A large Confederate hospital is located here, also a retreat for the insane. Among the buildings destroyed are large tobacco warehouses, much of the contents thrown into the streets. Tobacco plenty. Many of our boys carried much of it into the Confederate hospital, giving it to the poor fellows confined there. They were pleased and thankful, some even saying they were glad we came, so I was informed by those who went to the hospital.

Our regiment scouting through the country along the line of the railroad, picking up horses and cattle wherever we found them. Also protect the boys of the 5th New York Heavy Artillery who were busy destroying the railroad. By the time we leave here there won't be much left in this vicinity.

Our scouts manage to find some meal and flour. We are getting a part of our living in this vicinity. We use a half of a canteen for a frying pan, a stick for a handle, so we have pancakes, or, as the boys call them, toe-jam, and fresh meat. The buildings destroyed in town and along the line of the railroad were factories and warehouses, and some public buildings. To my knowledge no dwelling houses were burned up. In camp tonight.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 73

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith, April 19, 1863

Headquarters Second Brigade, Second Div.,

Fifteenth A. C,

Young's Point, La., April 19, 1863.

My Dear Wife:

The weather here is cool and delightfully pleasant. The climate of Louisiana is much misunderstood at the North. The nights are cool enough now for two or three blankets; mornings and evenings fresh; sun rather oppressive in the middle of the day. We have flies, but no mosquitoes yet, where my camp is pitched. I apprehend great trouble from them hereafter, though, and have no bar. One of my officers on detached service, within a few miles, reports to me that he has eaten alligator steak and chowder, and that yesterday they killed one that measured nine feet. He reports also bear and deer and other wild game. The woods here now are vividly green, vocal with song of birds, and all flowers are blooming. I saw a handful of ripe strawberries that were gathered more than a week ago.

Most plantations within reach of us are despoiled, so that no fruits or vegetables can be had; we see ruins and hear of what might have been. A blessed paradise being turned into a howling wilderness.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 288-9

Lieutenant-General James Longstreet to General Robert E. Lee, March 28, 1865

HEADQUARTERS FIRST ARMY CORPS,

March 28, 1865.

General R. E. LEE, Commanding, &c.:

Your telegram asking if we can spare General Pickett's division as a supporting force to our cavalry is received. I suggested that it should be sent on that service because I was apprehensive that our railroad would be in danger of being broken up behind us, leaving us without supplies sufficient to hold Richmond until our communication south could be re-established; or in case Sheridan went to North Carolina, his mounted force would be too formidable for that of General Johnston's, and that General Johnston's army would be in great danger if we should not re-enforce him. I do not think that we can well spare the division, but I think that we would choose a lesser risk by sparing it in case Sheridan's cavalry makes either of these moves contemplated than we would by holding him here to await the result of these operations. The enemy seems now to count upon taking Richmond by raiding upon our lines of communication and not by attacking our lines of work. I think, therefore, that we should endeavor to put a force in the field that can contend against that of the enemy. If Grant sends off his cavalry he can hardly intend to make any general move of his main army until its return. In every aspect of affairs, so far as I am advised, I think that the greater danger is from keeping too close within our trenches. If we can remain where we are, independently of the railroad, and if General Johnston would be safe with such a force operating against him in addition to Sherman's, we had better keep the division here. You know much more about all those points than I do and are much better able to decide upon them. My supply train is in from Northern Neck and starts back to-morrow for other provisions. If there is any impropriety in sending it back please telegraph me as soon as you receive it that I may recall it. We have about 100,000 pounds of meat near Dublin and 18,000 at New Boston. The commissary of subsistence complains that the railroad agents will not ship the meat unless it is boxed. This cannot always be done. If you can in any way aid us in this matter we shall do very well for some time to come.

I remain, very respectfully, your most obedient servant,

 J. LONGSTREET,

Lieutenant-General.

SOURCES: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 46, Part 3 (Serial No. 97), p. 1360; James Longstreet, From Manassas to Appomattox, p. 652-3

Lieutenant-General James Longstreet to General Robert E. Lee, February 14, 1865

[Confidential.]

HEADQUARTERS,

February 14, 1865.

General R. E. LEE,

Commanding:

GENERAL:  Recent developments of the enemy's designs seem to indicate an early concentration of his armies against Richmond. This, of course, must involve a like concentration on our part or the abandonment of our capital. The latter emergency would, I think, be almost fatal – possibly quite so, after our recent reverses. To concentrate here in time to meet the movements of the enemy, we shall be obliged to use the little of our southern railroad that is left to us in transporting our troops, so that we cannot haul provisions over that route. I fear, therefore, that we shall not be able to feed our troops unless we adopt extraordinary measures and efforts. I think that there is enough of the necessaries of life left in Virginia and North Carolina to help us through our troubles, if we can only reach them. Impressing officers, however, nor collectors of tax in kind, nor any other plan heretofore employed are likely to get these supplies in time or in quantities to meet our necessities. The citizens will not give their supplies up and permit their families and servants to suffer for the necessaries of life without some strong inducement, for each one may naturally think that the little he would supply by denying himself and family will go but a little way where so much is needed. He does not want Confederate money, for his meat and bread will buy him clothes, &c., for his family more readily and in much larger quantities than the money that the Government would pay.

The only thing, then, that will insure our rations and our national existence is gold. Send out the gold through Virginia and North Carolina and pay liberal prices, and my conviction is that we shall have no more distress for want of food. The winter is about over now, and the families can and will subsist on molasses, bread, and vegetables for the balance of the year, if they can get gold for their supplies. There is a great deal of meat and bread inside the enemy's lines that our people would bring us for gold, but they won't go to that trouble for Confederate money. They can keep gold so much safer than they can meat and bread, and it is always food and clothing. If the Government has not the gold, it must impress it; or if there is no law for the impressment, the gold must be taken without a law. Necessity does not know or wait for laws. If we stop to make laws in order that we may reach the gold, it will disappear the day that the law is mentioned in Congress. To secure it no one should suspect that we are after it until we knock at the doors of the vaults that contain it, and we must then have guards, to be sure that it is not made away with. It seems to my mind that our prospects will be brighter than they have ever been if we can only get food for our men, and I think the plan that I have proposed will secure the food. There seems to be many reasons for the opinion that the enemy deems our capital essential to him in order that he may end the war, as he desires. To get the capital, he will concentrate here everything that he has; and we surely are better able to fight him when we shall have concentrated than when we are in detachments. The Army of the West will get new life and spirit as soon as it finds itself alongside of this, and we will feel more comfortable ourselves to know that all are under one head and one eye that is able to handle them.

I remain, most respectfully and truly, your most obedient servant,

 J. LONGSTREET,

Lieutenant-General

SOURCES: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 46, Part 2 (Serial No. 96), p. 1233-4; James Longstreet, From Manassas to Appomattox, p. 641-2