Private John C. West to Miss Decca Stark, June 23, 1863

CAMP NEAR MILLWOOD, TWENTY MILES                

WEST OF HARPER'S FERRY        ,

JUNE 23RD, 1863.

To Miss Decca Stark, Columbia, South Carolina:

DEAR DECCA: Yours of the 6th inst., with one from Miss Nannie Norton of the same date reached me about eight days ago, and I have not had a moment since to answer you, and even now cannot tell whether I shall be interrupted before I am half done this. I am writing on my knee, with everything packed ready to move at the sound of the bugle. I wrote you last on the 6th of June from near Culpepper Court House. On that day we took a hard march of eighteen miles through the rain, and on very muddy roads. We halted about 10 o'clock at night. I was wet and very tired.

There was an order against making fires, as we were near the enemy, being on the same ground on which Stuart fought them a few days afterwards. Of course I slept; a soldier, if he knows his own interest, will sleep whenever opportunity offers, but there were 10,000 or 12,000 men huddled on the side of the road in a promiscuous mass, just as you have seen cattle about a barn lot; no one knowing how much mud or filth he reposed in until the generous light of day revealed it. It rained a good deal during the night and kept me thoroughly soaked. The next morning we were ordered back to the camp near Culpepper, and marched over the same road by 1 o'clock and remained there until the 9th, when early in the morning about 5 o'clock we heard heavy firing of artillery. This was the opening of Stuart's cavalry fight. We formed and marched to Lookout Mountain, about three miles from Stephenburg, and lay in line of battle upon it until the fortune of the day was decided and then returned to camp.

Colonel Frank Hampton was killed in or near Stephenburg by a pistol shot. He was in a hand to hand encounter, it is said. On the 13th we received orders to be ready to march or fight, but it turned out to be only a march of five miles, which we accomplished in an hour and reached Cedar Run, the scene of one of Stonewall Jackson's battles last August. There were a great many unburied skeletons, presenting a very ghastly appearance. There were forty-nine skulls in one little ditch; the bodies were torn to pieces and scattered about, having been taken from their shallow graves by hogs or other animals. A hand or a foot might be seen protruding from the earth, here and there, to mark the last resting place of the patriotic victims of this horrible war.

We left this camp on the 15th and marched through Culpepper towards Winchester. This was one of the hottest days and one of the hottest marches I have yet experienced. Over 500 men fell out by the road side from fatigue and exhaustion, and several died where they fell; this was occasioned by being overheated and drinking cold water in immoderate quantities, and the enforcement of the order requiring us to wade through creeks and rivers up to our waists without the privilege of even taking off our shoes. I felt quite sick and giddy with a severe pain in my head as I was climbing the hill after wading the Rappahannock, but it passed off, and I kept with the company, though I saw two dead men during the time and several others fall.

Oh! how I would have enjoyed one of mother's mint juleps then as we rested in "the shade of the trees." I slept gloriously that night on a bed of clover and blue grass and thought of the little "pig that lived in clover and when he died he died all over." On the 16th we marched twenty miles without so much suffering, though the day was very warm, and many fell by the way, and like the seed in the parable, “on stony ground," for we were getting towards the mountains. Camped that night near Markham station in another field of clover, though not so comfortable, for I was very cold and slept little. On the 17th marched fourteen miles up hill and down dale through a beautiful, mountaineous region and camped in a splendid grove of oak and hickory about one mile from Upperville, and the neighborhood of some of the most beautiful family mansions I ever saw, All the country we have passed through is perfectly charming, and I cannot see why any Virginian ever leaves Virginia. All that I have seen so far fills my ideal of the "promised land." On the 18th we marched to the Shenandoah, ten miles, and waded it with positive orders not to take off any clothing. The water was deep and cold. I put my cartridge box on my head. The water came to my arm pits. We camped about a mile beyond the river. A tremendous rain drenched us before night, so we were reconciled to the wading. My blankets and everything that I had was soaked, except Mary's daguerreotype, which Colonel B. F. Carter took charge of for me. I slept in clothes and blankets soaked wet. On the 19th we marched down the river about ten miles over a very muddy road, and crossed several little streams about knee deep, and then re-crossed the Shenandoah and marched up through Sniggers Gap to the top of the mountain, and here about dark we experienced the hardest storm of wind and rain I ever saw. It seemed to me as if the cold and rain, like the two-edged sword of holy writ, penetrated to the very joints and marrow.

I laid down but did not sleep a wink until about an hour before day, and woke up cold and stiff. More than half the soldiers spent the night in a desperate effort to keep the fire burning, which was done with great difficulty.

I took off my clothes, one garment at a time, and dried them, and baked myself until I felt tolerably well; but truly a soldier knows not what a day may bring forth. Just as I was thoroughly dried, up came another cloud and soaked us again, and then came an order to fall into line "without arms." We were then marched about half a mile from camp and ordered to build a stone fence about half a mile long. This, several thousand men accomplished in about two hours; though it worked me pretty hard to carry and roll stones weighing from 50 to 200 pounds. After my morning's work I dined with Captain Bachman, who had an elegant dinner, consisting mainly of cow-pea soup. After dinner, while we were taking a sociable smoke and chat, an order came to get ready to leave immediately. I hurried to my company and we started back down the mountain, and it was only after getting into the valley, where the sun was shining, that we discovered that we had been encamped in a cloud on the mountain top, right in the heart of the rain factory, the summer resort of Æolus himself. The division again crossed the Shenandoah, but this time I mounted one of Captain Bachman's caissons and rode over, thus escaping the chill of the waters, though the rain had wet me thoroughly before. I would like for Mrs. Bachman to paint such a scene. It was one of the most splendid for a picture I ever witnessed, 25,000 or 30,000 men, with the wagons and artillery, and horses, all crowding into the stream; a perfect living mass, with towering mountains looking down upon us, and the old stone mill reminding one of the halcyon days of peace and a hundred other incidents which I have not the ability to describe correctly; all united to form one of the most picturesque and wonderful sights my eyes ever beheld.

We camped on this side of the river two nights and one day, and on yesterday morning marched for this place, where for the first time, since the reception of your letter, I have had an opportunity to answer it, for the captain carries my paper for me, and frequently, when we stop, the wagon which carries his baggage is not near to us. I have not written to Mary for ten days, and must ask of you the favor of writing to her for me and giving her the principal items of my journey, for I shall hardly ever get an opportunity of sending a letter by hand from here, and the mails are so uncertain that there is little satisfaction in writing. I am glad she does not know of the privations I am suffering, for it would give her more pain than I have felt in enduring them. I saw Captain Bachman again yesterday. He is well and in fine spirits. I have seen James Davis and all the Camden boys and old friends, and schoolmates in McLaws division. They each hold an office of some kind.

They are very lucky in having friends on good terms with the appointing power. I think I could get a place above the ranks, but I doubt my qualifications for a higher place. I can march and shoot, and I love my musket next to my wife and my country, and this constitutes my qualifications for military service. I have quite a severe cold, though I am better to-day than I was yesterday. Don't write this to Mary. I hope we will soon get through our demonstrations and come to the fighting part of the drama.

I have not heard from home yet, though it is more than two months since I left Texas, and there are several letters in the regiment of recent date. I understand there is a large mail for our brigade at the Texas depot, in Richmond, awaiting an opportunity to be sent to us. My love to all, and tell "Theo" to study hard and get his lessons well, for an educated man can make a better soldier, a better ditcher, or well digger, and a more perfect gentleman than an uneducated one.

Your brother, truly,

JOHN C. WEST.

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. 73-9

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells, February 14, 1863

We were ordered back to Providence this morning. Caught a sheep and brought it along. The roads are very muddy. We met Gen. McArthur on the way back. One of our brigade went on the south side of the lake and the other on the opposite side. They are clearing the brush from the bayou that leaves the lake for Tensa and are stopping up others.

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. 39

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells, February 18, 1863

Cloudy this morning, though not raining. The ground is covered with water and mud. The old wooden gunboat "Tyler" is lying here at anchor.

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. 39-40

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells, Tuesday, February 19, 1863

Warm and pleasant. Mud drying up very fast. Work on the ditch was continued today by four hundred Nigs. We draw rations for twelve hundred Negroes, wenches, children and all. The women and children will be sent into the cotton fields to work. Men are detailed to oversee them.

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. 40

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones, Monday, December 1, 1862

Lumpkin's Mill. Awoke to find it a muddy morning, it having rained very hard in the night, blowing the fifth tent to the ground. Our tent leaked considerably. Laid quiet all day. No firing heard. Evie went foraging, gone nearly all day. In the evening ordered to have two days' rations ready to march at sunrise.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 16

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones, Wednesday, December 3, 1862

Enroute. A sunny and bright day, dried up the mud and made things cheerful. Hitched up at 8 A. M., stayed harnessed until 3 P. M. We then moved out to the river and went to camp in sight of the rebels' fortifications. Some of the boys crossed the river while watering [horses]. Pitched our tents.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 17

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones, Friday, December 5, 1862

Enroute. Took up the line of march through mud and rain early. In the morning the rain that was continually falling made the road almost unpassable for the artillery. Crossed the Tallahatchie with difficulty, passed fortifications which might have given us much trouble to pass had they been held by their builders. Met thirty prisoners. Halted at Abbeville about two hours at noon, then pushed on. Night overtook the train while crossing a lagoon [Herrington's Creek], which was very difficult. Stood in the road till 8 P. M., when finding it impossible to cross, we came into park on the road-side in an old cornfield, slept on the tarpaulin, no shelter.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 17

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones, Monday, December 15, 1862

Near Oxford. It rained nearly all day, making it very muddy, hard for our horses. No mail for two days.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 19

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Benjamin F. Pearson, January 15, 1863

At midnight last night it commenced to sleet & continued for about 12 hours then commenced snowing in earnest & continued to snow hard untill near the middle of the afternoon it abated with snow from 6 to 8 inches deep & the ground in a perfect slush of mud & watter under the snow, & it continued snowing moderately the ballance of the afternoon & night untill now 8½ Oc & yet snowing with a fair prospect of continuing through the night I am suffering with a severe pane in the small of my back but not to prevent me from duty

SOURCE: Edgar R. Harlan, Currator, Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 15, No. 2, October 1925, p. 105

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, November 30, 1861

The Third is encamped five miles south of Louisville, on the Seventh-street plank road.

As we marched through the city my attention was directed to a sign bearing the inscription, in large black letters,

"NEGROES BOUGHT AND SOLD."

We have known, to be sure, that negroes were bought and sold, like cattle and tobacco, but it, nevertheless, awakened new, and not by any means agreeable, sensations to see the humiliating fact announced on the broad side of a commercial house. These signs must come down.

The climate of Kentucky is variable, freezing nights and thawing in the day. The soil in this locality is rich, and, where trodden, extremely muddy. We shall miss the clear water of the mountain streams. A large number of troops are concentrating here.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 84

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, December 27, 1861

No orders to advance. Armies travel slowly indeed. Within fifteen miles of the enemy and idly rotting in the mud.

Acting Brigadier-General Marrow when informed that Dumont would assume command of the brigade, became suddenly and violently ill, asked for and obtained a thirty-day leave.

I would give much to be home with the children during this holiday time; but unfortunately my health is too good, and will continue so in spite of me. The Major, poor man, is troubled in the same way.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 89

Diary of 5th Sergeant Lawrence Van Alstyne, January 17, 1863

On account of my cough, which is worse when I lie down, I have walked about evenings or sat and chatted with others about the camp fire until tired enough to sleep, and last night crawled in near midnight where my two bedfellows were asleep. Soon after I got into a drowse from which I was awakened by a coughing spell and saw Walt standing by the help of the tent pole and groaning in agony. Soon I heard him say "I'll end it all right now," and with that he pitched over towards his knapsack and by the noise I thought he was after his revolver. I jumped across Jim, who lay asleep in the middle, and snatched the gun out of his hand before he had it out of the case. Out in the company street I threw the three revolvers and then grabbed for a sheath knife which I knew was there, getting hold of the handle just as he grabbed the sheath. By this time Story was in the game and we both had our hands full getting him down and quiet. I went for Dr. Andrus, who after lighting a candle and looking in Walt's eyes, told us to take him over to the hospital. The struggle had put him in agony and it was pitiful to see how he suffered. We staid with him the rest of the night and by morning he was helpless. Every joint seemed as stiff as if no joint was there. For the next five days I did little but watch him and help in any way I could to make him more comfortable. Then he and others were taken to the general hospital in the city, where they will at least be warm. We have had a cold rain and the camp is a bed of mud. The wind sifts through the cracks in this old shed and although a stove was kept running, it was too cold for comfort. I have slept but little in the last five nights, but the doctor has kept dosing me and I feel better than when this time with Walter began. Letters from home have made the world seem brighter and the men in it better.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 82-3

Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft, Monday, April 7, 1862

Rain last night and mud this morning. In the office as usual. A fire broke out this morning on the corner of the Av^e & 7^th Street, it has been burning most of the day. Six stores and one Hotel were destroyed before three o'clock. Willie came down to the office before three to go home with me. I took him down to see the fire, he was some frightened at the noise and confusion. It has snowed most of the day and no wind so the fire did not burn very rapidly. All the engines were there, but the efficiency of the fire department was not much. Went down to the “National” to meet some gentlemen with S Seely of NY to examine Models & Drawings in reference to Iron covering for Ships of War. Staid till ½ past 10. We had the corrigated Iron in question. We think that there must be “something up” down the River as since 9 o'clock two messengers have called at our door with Dispatches for Comodore Smith from the War Department, perhaps the “Merrimac” is out again.

SOURCE: Horatio Nelson Taft, The Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft, 1861-1865. Volume 1, January 1,1861-April 11, 1862, Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, Washington D. C.

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, January 17, 1862

Saturday morning rained like the mischief last night, Our camp flooded with water. The 10th Ills. have no tents and they are in an awful fix. Our men have not a full ration this morning—a little grumbling consequently—traveling is awful—roads are very mudy     Branches are high and it rains almost continually     The coat tail of the writer get very mudy and is consequently very heavy. WE travel to within one mile of Blanville and encamp for the night. The boys have one dram of whisky to night issued by the Qr. Master     Lieut Allen has been with the teams to day not able to walk, He caught up with us at Lovelaceville.

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 234

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, July 7, 1863

Reveille at two A.M.; started at four; marched by Emmettsburg and through Utica, Md., and went into camp at five P.M. Roads very muddy. Twenty-seven miles.

SOURCE: John Lord Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 277

Diary of Private John C. West, Monday, June 8, 1863

On the morning of the 6th, Saturday, we were ordered to be prepared to march at 12 o'clock. We started about 1 o'clock towards the Rappahanock. It rained in the afternoon, and I was soaked to the skin, and the road very muddy. We dragged along until 10 o'clock at night and were then ordered to camp without fires. We slept on the wet ground in a perfect heap; 10,000 or 12,000 men lying promiscuously on the side of a public road, like so many tired hounds, was a novel sight, or rather sound, to me. I slept soundly, except when waked up by the rain falling in my face. At daylight on Sunday morning we were ordered to form and were marched back over the same road to our camp near Culpepper, a distance of sixteen miles. We remained there until morning, when we moved to this place, about half a mile farther from Culpepper. This marching and countermarching is what the military authorities call making a demonstration. It is a tiresome and monotonous business, but if it accomplishes the purpose for which I left home I will be satisfied.

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. 58-9

Diary of Private Adam S. Johnston, January 20, 1863

Left Nashville on foot to join my company and regiment again. Came twenty-three miles through rain, and the roads being very muddy, we encamped for the night in a cedar house, used by our videttes or dispatch carriers; a march of 23 miles.

SOURCE: Adam S. Johnston, The Soldier Boy's Diary Book, pp. 26-7

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Benjamin F. Pearson, December 14, 1862

4 Oc we ware on dress parade in the mud & rain 2½ Oc Brother Oiler Chaplain of the 21st Mo Inft preached to us text 1st psalm Capt Morton exorted he is of the Mo Inft night H D Morrison preached text take the whole armour Hare exorted & we had a speaking & it was a glorious time.

SOURCE: Edgar R. Harlan, Currator, Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 15, No. 2, October 1925, p. 98

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, October 7, 1861

Left Logan's mill before the sun was up. The rain continues, and the mud is deep. At eleven o'clock we reached what is known as Marshall's store, near which, until recently, the enemy had a pretty large camp. Halted at the place half an hour, and then moved four miles further on, where we found the roads impassable for our artillery and transportation.

Learning that the enemy had abandoned Big Springs and fallen back to Huntersville, the soldiers were permitted to break ranks, while Colonel Marrow and Major Keifer, with a company of cavalry, rode forward to the Springs. Colonel Nick Anderson, Adjutant Mitchell and I followed. We found on the road evidence of the recent presence of a very large force. Quite a number of wagons had been left behind. Many tents had been ripped, cut to pieces, or burned, so as to render them worthless. A large number of beef hides were strung along the road. One wagon, loaded with muskets, had been destroyed. All of which showed, simply, that before the rebels abandoned the place the roads had become so bad that they could not carry off their baggage.

The object of the expedition being now accomplished, we started back at three o'clock in the afternoon, and encamped for the night at Marshall's store.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 77

Diary of 5th Sergeant Lawrence Van Alstyne: December 28, 1862

We have had a rain and the hard ground made the softest kind of mud. It sticks to our feet and clothes, and everybody is cross and crabbed. The sun came out, however, and our spirits began to rise as the mud dried up. There was preaching and prayer meeting both to-day.

Our chaplain's courage is something wonderful and many of us attend the services out of respect to him when we had much rather lie and rest our aching bones. The captain of the Arago sent word he will be along to-night on his way to New York and would stop for letters. He will find some, judging from the writing that has been going on.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 77