Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, December 25, 1861

Gave passes to all the boys who desired to leave camp. The Major, Adjutant and I had a right royal Christmas dinner and a pleasant time. A fine fat chicken, fried mush, coffee, peaches and milk, were on the table. The Major is engaged now in heating the second tea-pot of water for punch purposes. His countenance has become quite rosy; this is doubtless the effect of the fire. He has been unusually powerful in argument; but whether his intellect has been stimulated by the fire, the tea, or the punch, we are at this time wholly unable to decide; he certainly handles the tea-pot with consummate skill, and attacks the punch with exceeding vigor.

_______________

BLOG EDITORS NOTE: For a punch recipe that includes hot water see 69th Regiment Punch.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, pp. 88-9

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells, January 28, 1863

Bill Boggs and myself secured a pass this morning early and started down to the canal. We followed the river bank until we were about one mile and half from the ditch, when we saw that we were upon a bayou that ran back up the river about two miles. We had to turn back, feeling pretty badly sold as it made us four miles extra walk. Young poplars were so thick that we could not see where we were for a while. The levee is broken in two places. Our division (6th McArthur) is repairing the upper one, and the lower division the lower one. The water is running through here badly. They are planting artillery behind the levee all along between camp and the ditch. The levee forms a substantial breastwork. One mile this side of the ditch we came, for the first time, within full view of Vicksburg. The town lies upon the west side of a sloping bluff. One large church and the court house and one earthworks could be distinguished quite plainly. The town did not look more than two or three miles distant, but it is not less than eight. An officer was looking through a glass, he could see transports at the wharf, and a crowd collected around someone who was taking observations. As we passed the mouth of the Yazoo we could look up and see three or four gunboats and as many rams, while on this side lay the "Chillicothe" and three rams. As I was going down I was hailed by two cavalry men who had just passed me. On looking up, whom should I see but Oll and Dave Hubler, formerly of Co. E, 12th Ind. They belong to Co. C, 4th Ind. cavalry. They told me that Geo. Hissung is down here. They are body guard to Gen. Smith. Pat Gallegher and Bill Humphrey, our old first lieutenant and orderly, are here. Nearby is the far famed ditch. About noon we sat down on its banks and took a good rest. The boys encamped there say the water has risen one foot today. It is now five feet deep and has a rapid current. It averages over twenty feet wide upon the surface. The Mississippi is rising rapidly. I went down to the lower end of the ditch, it is one mile and one-eighth in length. There are heavy details at work throwing up a levee on the west side of it. We have thirty two-pound parrots blockading the river. They are posted behind the levee here. When we arrived Gen. McClernand was taking observations. The Rebels are throwing up heavy works below the mouth of the ditch upon the opposite side. It is about three miles distant. We could see them moving around, coming up and going away. We lay there about two hours and watched them. We could see two heavy earthworks, or forts, and one line of rifle pits. We went from here up to the head of the ditch. It starts in an eddy and there was a tug, "The Ivy," lying in front to keep out the driftwood. It is hard to tell if the thing will prove advantageous. Large details at work, showing that the generals still have faith in it. We understand that they have sent for a dredge. There are encampments all the way between our division and the ditch. Gen. Steele's division is below the mouth of it. We came back to camp a little after dark, tired and hungry, having traveled during the day about twenty miles, but were amply repaid. McClernand is a homely man, apparently about forty-five years of age, with black whiskers and a Roman nose. I saw a fine looking general, said to be Gen. Steele.

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. 32-4

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, April 8, 1863

Four men from each detachment went off on passes. All of the infantry in the First Corps was reviewed by the President. Capt. Martin went home on a furlough.

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. 273

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, Sunday, October 13, 1861

morning clear as a bell and as pleasant almost as a summers morning—Inspection of the Company by the Col. at 9 O'clock, church as usual. Passes were granted to quite a number to Birds Point.

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 228

Diary of Elvira J. Powers: Saturday, April 2, 1864

Reached the "City of the Falls" in the night. Left the boat about six this morning, took a hasty breakfast at the “National,” then a hack for the depot, calling at the office of Provost Marshal to secure passes on train to Nashville. Am pleasantly impressed with Louisville. A pretty green plot in front of private residences, even if quite small, with linden, ailanthus and magnolia trees, are peculiarities of the city. It is too early for the foliage of the trees to be seen, but the deep green, thick grass and the blossoms of the daffodil are in striking contrast to the snow I saw in the latitude of Chicago and Buffalo only day before yesterday.

The cars are now so crowded with soldiers en route for "the front," that it is quite difficult for citizens to find passage. Some have to wait several days before they can find an opportunity. Only one car is appropriated for this use, and ladies with their escort always have the preference. Thus gentlemen who are alone are liable to be left, As we were leaving the "National" this morning a gentleman rushed out and inquired if we were going to take the Southern train, and if there was only one gentleman to the two ladies. He "begged pardon—knew he was a stranger—wished to go to Bowling Green his wife was sick and he had written her he would be home to-day. If the ladies would be so kind as to pass him along, and if the gentleman would step with him into the office he could convince him, through the keeper of the "National," that he was a man of honor,” Mr. R. referred the matter to the ladies. They decided to take under their protecting wing the lone gentleman and see him safe home if the interview with the landlord, with whom Mr. R. was fortunately acquainted, should prove satisfactory. It was so, and Mr. Moseby—not the guerilla as himself informed us—entered the hack. He had "taken the oath of allegiance," he said, and "lived up to it, but had a right to his own thoughts."

Upon arriving at the depot found the ladies' car locked, and we were left standing by it while the two gentleman looked after the baggage. Mr. R. was not to accompany us farther. Soon an elderly, pale-looking man, with a white neck-tie, came up, who asked if we each had a gentleman travelling with us. We hesitated and evaded the question. This was being in too great demand altogether. It was not even included in Mr. R.'s list of our duties. He "was really hoping we had not, and that one of us would take pity on an old man and pass him along."

His fatherly look and manner banished selfishness, and he was told to wait until the gentlemen returned, and we would see about it. As they did so Mr. Moseby stepped up and cordially shook hands with the old man, calling him “Judge." But all Southerners are styled judges, captains, colonels or generals, thought I, and this one is an honest old farmer nevertheless. As Mr. M. assured us that he was "all right," and a "man of honor," I told him he might occupy half of my seat in the car. But it was not long before I found that my poor old farmer was no less a personage than Judge Joseph R. Underwood, one of the most noted men and pioneers of Kentucky. He has been Judge of the Supreme Court of that State six years, a United States Representative for ten years and a Senator for six.

A spruce little Captain came through to examine military passes before the cars started. Quite a number of citizens were left as usual, and as we were moving off I heard one young man exclaim in desperation that he would "go right back to the city and marry." The gentlemen congratulated themselves upon their good fortune, and the subject elicited the following incidents:

A gentleman of Mr. M.'s acquaintance could get no admission to the cars, no lady would take him under her care, and he asked the baggage agent if he might get in the baggage car. That functionary said he had orders to admit no one. "Then you'll not give me permission, but if I get in will you put me out?"

No answer was made, but the agent walked away, and the man, thinking like children, that "silence gives consent," entered the baggage car and remained.

Another gentleman, a merchant of Bowling Green, by name F—— C——, could get no chance to ride. But fortunately having on a blue coat, in desperation he stepped up to a man with the two bars on his shoulder who was putting his soldiers aboard, and said with a pleading look and tone:

"Captain, can't you lengthen out my furlough just two days longer?"

"No," said the Captain, in a quick authoritative tone, "you've been loafing 'round these streets long enough, in with you," and he made a motion as if he would materially assist his entrance if he didn't hurry.

“Well, if I must I must, but its hard, Captain."

"No more words," was the short reply, "in with you.” Another was related by an eye witness. A lady who was travelling alone was about stepping into the car, when a gentleman, who was trembling with anxiety lest he should be left, stepped up and offered to take her box. He did so, and stepping in behind was allowed a seat by her side, cautiously retaining the box. He had two comrades equally desirous of securing a passage, who had seen his success. One of them stepped to the car window and whispered him to pass out the box. It was slyly done, and the gentleman marched solemnly in with the weighty responsibility. The box went through the window again, and again walked in at the door, until it must have been thoroughly "taken in" as well as the guard.

Just out of the city we passed a camp and saw soldiers lying under the little low "dog tents" as they are called, and in the deep, clay mud, while only a few rods distant was a plenty of green sward. Any officer who would compel his men to pitch tents where those were ought to be levelled to the ranks.

I saw for the first time to-day, fortifications, stockades, riflepits, and mounted cannon at the bridges. We passed over the battle-ground of Mumfordsville, and saw the burnt fences and the levelled trees which were to obstruct the march of our troops, and the building which was used by them as a hospital. In the deep cut passes one sees suddenly the picturesque figure of a negro soldier, far above upon the heights, who with shining uniform and glittering bayonet stands like a statue, guarding the portals of liberty. At the fortifications are sign-boards upon which are printed in large letters, "Please a drop a paper," while perhaps half a dozen hands point to it as the train whirls past. Some papers were thrown out. There were other things which had for our Northern eyes the charm of novelty. A half respectable or squalid farm-house, with a huge chimney upon the outside, and with a huddle of negro quarters. Also negro women with turbans upon their heads, working out of doors, and driving teams—in one case on a load of tobacco, while driving a yoke of oxen. The total absence of country school-houses, and the squalid and shiftless appearance of the buildings and people at the depots, are in striking contrast to the neat little towns of the Northern and Eastern States. The scenery is fine, much of the soil good, and the water-power extensive. Nature has dealt bountifully with Tennessee and Kentucky, but the accursed system of slavery has blasted and desolated the land, and both races, black and white, are reaping the mildewed harvest.

I find my honorable companion very entertaining and instructive. I am indebted to him for many items of interest, both concerning the early settlers, and also the modern history of the places we pass. His personal history is full of interest, and is one more proof that early poverty is not necessarily a barrier to honor and position. The Judge was given away by his parents to an uncle, who educated him, gave him five dollars and told him he must then make his own way in the world. Another uncle lent him a horse, and he set out to seek his fortune as lawyer and politician. He has in trust the fortune of an eccentric old bachelor, which is known in Warren County as the Craddock fund. Three-fourths of this is used to educate charity children, while the other fourth pays the Judge for his care of the fund. His friend Captain C., while upon his death-bed, sent for the drummer and fifer to play tunes in the yard, and from those selected such as he wished played at his funeral. He was buried with military honors.

“Muldroughs-Hill" which we saw, is a long ridge extending about one hundred miles from the mouth of Salt-River to the head of Rolling-Fork. It was named from an early settler who lived twenty miles from the others, and was farthest west. Rolling-Fork is a tributary of Salt-River. The origin of the term "going up Salt-River" originated at a little place we passed, now called Shepherdsville. It has only four or five hundred inhabitants. But in its early days its salt licks supplied all the Western country with salt, and was a growing aspirant for popularity, as it invited so much trade. It was a rival of Louisville, but unlike that, made no provision for its future well-being, but depended on its present worth alone. "Thus," moralized the Judge, “do we often see two young men start out with equal advantages, and find afterward that one became a Shepherdsville, and the other a Louisville." Now there is a bridge at Shepherdsville guarded by cannon, then there was no bridge and ferry-boats were used. It was not a smooth stream, and to cross, one must row up the river some one hundred rods before heading the boat to the opposite shore. Owing to the rapidity of the current, it was hard rowing, and great strength was needed. There were those engaged in the making of salt who were called kettle-tenders, and who for the most part were a low, rough set, being often intoxicated and quarrelsome. Two of these having a fight, the victor finished with the triumphant exclamation of There, I've rowed you up Salt River!"

Lincoln's birth-place is near this, in the adjoining County of Larue—although this was not the name at the time of his birth. And how little did the mother of Lincoln think, as she taught him the little she knew of books, that the people in the vicinity would ever have cause to exclaim of him, in relation to his rival for the Presidency, as they do of the successful politician—" he has rowed him up Salt River !"

There is a little river called "Nolin," which waters his birth-place. It was so named from the fact that in the early settlement upon its banks a man named Linn was lost in the woods, and never found. He was probably killed by the Indians. But the neighbors searched for several days, and at night met at a place upon its banks, calling to each other as they came in, "No Linn"—" No Linn, yet."

The Judge has carried lead in his body for over fifty years, received in the war of 1812. He was in the battle on the Maumee river called Dudley's defeat. The regiment, under Dudley, had crossed the river to take cannon of the enemy, which they succeeded in doing, but instead of returning they pursued them two or three miles, leaving a few behind to protect the captures. But a detachment of the enemy passed around in their rear, retook the cannon, and when the regiment returned, their retreat was cut off, and all were taken prisoners and obliged to run the gauntlet. About forty were killed in running the gauntlet. The Judge saw that the line of men which had formed at a little distance from, and parallel with the river, had a bend in it, and that if he ran close to the guns they would not dare fire for fear of hitting their own men. The Indians were armed with guns, tomahawks, and war clubs. In that day the gun was accompanied with what was called the "wiping-stick," which was a rod made of hickory notched, and wound with tow, and used to clean the gun. He escaped by receiving a whipping with some of those sticks. It was the last gauntlet ever run in the United States. During the trip I had quite a spirited but good-natured discussion upon the condition of the country, with Mr. M., who I found is really a strong rebel sympathizer. He worships Morgan since his late raid into Ohio, and secretly cherishes his picture in his vest pocket. Just before reaching Bowling Green, where we were to separate, the fatherly old Judge took a hand of each in his own, and with moisture in his eyes and a tremor in his voice, said:

"My children, you represent the two antagonistic positions of the country, and like those, do not rightly understand each other, on account of sectional prejudices. And now let an old man who has watched the growth of both sections, who has, as he trusts, fought for their good in the field, the desk, and senate, join your hands in the grasp of good fellowship, and oh, how sincerely I wish that I could bring also together the North and South in one lasting peace!"

Soon after, he pointed out his residence—the cars stopped, and we parted with our pleasant friends.

Reached the "City of the Rocks" about five, this P. M. Shall wait to see more of it, before making note of impressions.

SOURCE: Elvira J. Powers, Hospital Pencillings: Being a Diary While in Jefferson General Hospital, Jeffersonville, Ind., and Others at Nashville, Tennessee, as Matron and Visitor, p. 5-12

Major-General Henry W. Slocum: General Orders No. 4, May 5, 1864

General ORDERS No. 4.}

HDQRS, DISTRICT OF VICKSBURG,        

Vicksburg, Miss., May 5, 1864.

I. No persons except those in the employ of the United States Government, and loyal citizens, or those who have taken the oath of allegiance, will hereafter be permitted to pass the picket-lines at any post within this district.

II. No goods or merchandise of any kind will hereafter be allowed to pass outside the lines, except the necessary supplies for planters working lands leased from the United States, and limited quantities to citizens who have taken the oath of allegiance. No citizen will be allowed to take out supplies for any persons except himself and his immediate family, and in no case will more than thirty days' supplies be taken out.

III. The provost-marshal at every post will keep an accurate record of every pass granted, and of all permits approved by himself, or the post commander. Books for this purpose will be supplied by the quartermaster's department and the records will be kept open for the inspection of any officer of the Government, at all hours between 8 a.m. and 6 p.m. A record will be kept by the officers of the picket-line of all passes and permits presented, which record will be compared with that of the provost-marshal, and any discrepancy will at once be reported.

IV. All trade stores within the district at points not garrisoned by at least one regiment of troops will at once be discontinued. No goods or merchandise will be landed at any point on the river within the limits of the district which is not garrisoned by troops, except necessary supplies for planters working land leased from the Government, in which case the goods may be landed under cover of a gun-boat at the nearest practicable point to the plantation.

V. All boats ladened with merchandise detected in landing in violation of this order will be seized and brought to this post.

VI. All persons charged with the duties of imposing upon citizens, or of seizing property for the Government, will keep an account of all such transactions, specifying the persons from whom the money or property was received and the disposition made of it. This account will be kept open for the inspection of any officer of the Government, or of any citizen who has been taxed, or from whom property has been taken.

VII. No Government wagon, transport, or vessel of any kind will be used in bringing cotton or other stores to market, except in cases where such stores have been seized for the Government.

VIII. All clerks and citizen employes in every department whose services are not absolutely necessary will at once be discharged.

IX. No rations will be issued, nor property of any kind transferred to citizens to reimburse them for losses sustained by the operations of the war. The persons to whom damages are to be paid, and the amounts due, are questions which no military officer is authorized to adjust.

X. It is the duty of every person in the employ of the Government and of every loyal citizen to aid in the correction of all evils. Any practice on the part of either civil or military officers or citizens which tends to aid the enemy or defraud or injure the Government should be promptly reported, and sustained by such proof as will enable the commanding general to correct the evil, and bring the guilty parties to punishment.

By command of Maj. Gen. H. W. Slocum:

H. C. RODGERS,        

Assistant Adjutant-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 39, Part 2 (Serial No. 78), p. 30-1

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 W. J. Davidson, June 16, 1863

On Sunday evening left Big Black and moved to Church, occupying our old camping ground of May 20th, where we are resting and waiting orders. Occasional cheering reports come in from our beseiged friends, one of which is to the effect that the enemy attacked Vicksburg again on Friday, and was repulsed and driven five miles from the field; our loss said to be seven hundred. From some causes we are placed under greater restrictions now than ever, and are not allowed to go outside of the guard line without a pass. Yesterday two men of Comb's Tennessee Battalion, who had fallen out of ranks at Yazoo, came up and were immediately arrested, tried, and had one side of their heads shaved, all in the space of a few hours. Rations still short, consisting of beef and meal.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 215-6

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Sunday, June 23, 1861

The sanctity of the day was well observed throughout the camp, and increased by an impressive sermon, preached by Bishop Clark. In the afternoon, passes were given to the men to visit the city. The day closed with a dress parade, President Lincoln and other functionaries being present.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 8

Major-General Ulysses S. Grant to Major-General James B. McPherson, July 7, 1863

HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF THE TENNESSEE,        

Near Vicksburg, July 7, 1863.

Maj. Gen. J. B. MCPHERSON,

        Commanding Seventeenth Army Corps:

Give instruction that no passes are to be given to negroes to accompany their masters in leaving the city. The negroes may be informed that they are free by any one who may choose to give the information, and, if they still wish to go, no force need be used to prevent. In the particular case where I gave the reply that force would not be used to prevent negroes accompanying their masters, the officer said he had a family and children, and could not get along without a nurse; further, that the nurse had been raised in the family and was like one of them, and would take as hard to be separated as would an actual member of the family.

If there is any indication that a suspicious number of blacks are going to accompany the troops out, then all should be turned back except such as are voluntarily accompanying families, not more than one to each family.

Very respectfully,

U. S. GRANT.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 24, Part 3 (Serial No. 38), p. 483

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: August 1, 1864

I RECEIVE AN APPOINTMENT.

The ward next me on the left is a colored one, and contains from 60 to 80 men, according to recruits and drafts. Until recently they have been pretty much on their own hook, no one seeming to care for them. Some days ago Doctor Sadler asked me if I would take charge of them. I said I should like to do anything where I could be of any use.

He gave me my instructions and some blank reports, and set me up in business. My duties are to attend roll-calls, surgeon's calls, keep an account of arrivals, discharges, desertions, deaths, march them up to the kitchen three times a day for rations and make my report to him every morning. Entering on the discharge of my duties the first thing I did was to set them to work cleaning and fixing up their quarters, so they would be more comfortable.

A couple of hours' work showed a great improvement in the condition of things, and while it was being done it gave me a chance to find out who among them were the worst off and needed the most care and favors. A sick nigger is a curious institution and you can't tell so well about him as you can about a sick mule. He can put on the sickest look of anything I ever saw and appear as though he would die in seven minutes, but a nigger is never really sick but once, and is then sure to die. There is no more help for one than there is for a sick pig. I have three that are sick and I have no more faith in their getting well than I have that Gen. Lee will drive Gen. Grant from before Petersburg. Two of them are now unable to attend the surgeon's call in the morning and the other I expect will be in a few days. I have about 10 hobbling around with canes, spavined, ring-boned and foundered. The others are simply a little war-worn and tired.

The kitchen is about 30 rods from the camp, and when I march them up there there are so many lame ones they straggle the whole distance. Doctor Sadler called my attention to this and said he should like to see them march in little better order. I replied: “Surgeon, come out in the morning and see the parade; you will see them marching a 28 inch step and closed up to 18 inches from stem to stern.” He promised he would. The next morning at breakfast call I formed every one of those darkies that carried canes on the right, and the very lamest I put at the head of the column, and gave them a send-off. It was a comical show, they marched at the rate of about one mile an hour, and those in the rear kept calling out to those in advance : “Why don ye goo long dar! Hurry up dar; shan' get breakfas' fo' noon.” They kept closed up a good deal better than they kept the step as the rear crowded the advance to push them along. We were cheered along the route as almost everybody was out to see the fun. We marched in review before the doctor, and by the way he laughed and shook himself I thought he was well satisfied with the parade, at any rate he complimented me on my success when I carried in my morning report.

One day one of my fellows came to me for a pass to go fishing. He said he could catch as many bull-heads as would do us two for three days. I gave him a pass, but didn't see anything of him again for four days. When I asked him where he had been so long, he looked pretty sober for a minute or two, and then rolling around the whites of his eyes and showing his teeth, said: "Yah, yah, yah! ize no idee ize don gon so long; yah, yah, yah."

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 142-3

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: July 20, 1863

A CONFLICT OF AUTHORITY.

There is among army officers a constant jealousy and strife for promotion and rank, watching and looking after each other, fearful lest some one may be assuming some rank or taking some privileges that do not belong to him. I have been giving my men passes out of camp, and these passes have been honored at headquarters. In consequence of that a spirit of envy and jealousy entered the breasts of the infantry officers; it made them feel sore and uneasy, so they consulted together and decided that that could no longer be allowed. They informed me that I was exceeding my authority in passing men out of camp. Being in a minority and not caring to exhibit any stubbornness so trifling a matter I magnanimously waived my authority to issue the passes, but it was a big come down for the chief of artillery. When I wish to leave I simply look in at headquarters and say to the captain.“I propose going out.” If there is anything in the pitcher he always says, “You had better come in, and take something before going.” The captain is as generous as he is brave, and brave men are always generous.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 96

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: April 5, 1863

PICKET DUTY.

I fear I was not appreciated on the fort, as I was superseded after my first day's effort and have since been assigned to other duty; but I nobly served my country, and I know that history will do me justice. Yesterday I was out in the country among the wild flowers. I went out with a picket guard, about three miles in a southeasterly direction, to what is called Mills cross-roads, relieving the old picket. After spreading our blankets on the grass beside the fence, we entered vigorously on our duty of waiting and watching for the rebel Gen. Garnett, and listening to the sweet warbling of the singing birds. There is nothing in picket duty that stirs up a great amount of enthusiasm, but still it is a good steady business, with occasionally a little ray of excitement, as when a darky comes along and one has to examine his pass.

About the middle of the afternoon, we heard the approach of horses, and looking up the road, saw two ladies coming at a swift gallop towards us. My first impulse was to charge cavalry, but I refrained from doing so, as I saw they were not enemies. As they came up, I recognized Madames Bartholomew and Cliffton. I turned out the guard and extended to them the customary civilities. They said they were out for an afternoon's ride and supposed it was as far as they could go in that direction. I told them they might go further if they wished, and I should be pleased to furnish them an escort, only it would weaken my lines. They laughed and thanked me for my gallantry, but thought they had better not venture farther. I inquired if there were any news stirring in town, and they answered, “All quiet on the Roanoke.” They then bade us good afternoon and started on the retreat. There is no church service today; all hands are busy at work on the fort, and things are beginning to look as though war was liable to break out at almost any time.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 87-8

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: April 20, 1862

I GET AIRRESTED.

Not caring to trouble the captain all the time for passes I have got in the habit of going about town on my sagacity, and I have not yet discovered but it answers the purpose as well as a pass, but I was brought up a day or two ago, when I ran against Charley of company D, who was standing sentinel on the corner of Broad and Middle streets. I was walking leisurely along, when coming to Charley's post, he halted me and demanded my pass. I said I had not got any. He replied if that was the case it was his duty to march me to the provost's office. Rather than have any trouble with him, and to have it military in form, I handed him an old pass I happened to have in my pocket. He looked at it and tearing it up, took the position of a soldier, saying. “You non-coms are getting too big for your clothes, you are putting on altogether too many airs, but I will let you know that you can’t put them on over me.” I said, “Perhaps there is a shadow of truth in what you say. It is possible that they may be somewhat afflicted with inflation, but you know I am one of the meek and lowly kind.” “You? You are the worst pill in the box, you never have a pass, but are all over town, in the back rooms of all the sutler's stores and taking more liberties and putting on more style than half the commissioned officers.” “Now, Charley, that is a sad state of affairs indeed ; but you are the first one that has found any fault with it, but if you desire the honor of escorting me to the provost’s office you can have the job. After you get me there, Old Dan will give you the biggest setting up you have had recently.”

He marched me over, and as we entered, Old Dan looked up and, addressing my escort, asked, “What are you here for? What do you want?” “I found this man running at large without a pass, and thought it was my duty to bring him here.” “Without a pass? Was he making any disturbance?” “No sir.” And so you arrest one of your own regiment because he happens to be without a pass and then come here to interrupt me. If you come here again on such an errand I will put you in the guard house. Go to your post.”

After my escort had gone out with a flea in his ear, Capt. Dan removed his spectacles, and wiping his eyes, which a good deal resembled gashes cut in ripe tomatoes, pointed to the table, saying, “I reckon there is something left in the bottle, help yourself.” I did as the captain requested. After chatting a little with him, a couple of officers came in, and I touched my cap, bade the captain good-day and made my escape.

POOR WHITE TRASH.

Among the white people about here, are very few who would be ranked among the first or even second class. Nearly all of them are what is called the poor white trash or clay-eaters. I am told they actually do eat clay, a habit they contract like any other bad habit. Now I cannot vouch for the truth of this, never having seen them eating it, but some of them look as though that was about all they had to eat. They are an utterly ignorant set, scarcely able to make themselves intelligible, and in many ways they are below the negroes in intelligence and manner of living, but perhaps they are not wholly to blame for it, the same principle that will oppress a black man, will a white one. They are entirely cut off from the means of acquiring land or an education, even though they wished to. Public schools are unknown here and land can only be purchased by the plantation. That leaves them in rather a ‘bad fix; poor, shiftless and ignorant. Their highest ambition is to hunt, fish, drink whiskey and toady to their masters. You speak to one of them and he will look at you in a listless sort of way as though unable or undecided whether to answer or not. Ask one of them the distance across the river, and he will either say he don't know, or “it is right smart.” Ask one of them the distance to any place or house out in the country, and he will tell you it is “a right smart step,” or “you go up yer a right smart step, and you will come to a creek,” and from there it will be so many looks and a screech; meaning from the creek that number of angles in the road and as far beyond as the voice will reach. They do not seem to have any intelligent idea about anything, and in talking with the cusses, one scarcely knows whether to pity them or be amused.

SNUFF DIPPING.

The women here have a filthy habit of snuff chewing or dipping as they call it, and I am told it is practiced more or less by all classes of women. The manner of doing it is simple enough; they take a small stick or twig about two inches long, of a certain kind of bush, and chew one end of it until it becomes like a brush." This they dip into the snuff and then put it in their mouths. After chewing a while they remove the stick and expectorate about a gill, and repeat the operation. Many of the women among the clay-eaters chew plug tobacco and can squirt the juice through their teeth as far and as straight as the most accomplished chewer among the lords of creation.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 53-4

Samuel Ellis' Advertisement for the Return of His Negro Boy Joe, June 4, 1857

RUNAWAY — $200 Reward will be given if taken in the state, and $500 if taken out of the state.

Run away, my negro boy JOE, sometimes called Joe Winston; about 23 years old, a little over 5 feet high, rather stout-built, dark ginger-bread color, small moustache, stammers badly when confused or spoken to; took along two or three suits of clothes, one a blue dress coat with brass buttons, black pants, and patent leather shoes, white hat, silver watch with gold chain; was last seen in this city on Tuesday last, had a pass to Hanover county, and supposed to be making his way towards York River, for the purpose of getting onboard some coasting vessel.

Samuel ELLIS.

je4—lw 

SOURCES: William Still, The Underground Railroad: A Record of Facts, Authentic Narratives, Letters &c., p. 389; Richmond Dispatch, Richmond, Virginia, Thursday, June 4, 1857, p. 2

Diary of Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: October 7, 1863

A rain a few days ago gave us a rise of two or three feet in the Kanawha River. It is falling again, but is raining today again with prospects of water.

Another order to give no passes and take up all old ones. Funny business, this pass business. “Finds something still for idle hands to do.”

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 438-9

First Order of Commitment of Davis, March 17, 1854

New Castle county, ss., State of Delaware — To Wm. R. Lynam, Sheriff of said county. —— Davis (Negro) is delivered to your custody for further examination and hearing for traveling without a pass, and supposed to be held a Slave to some person in the State of Georgia.

[Seal].

Witness the hand and seal of John Bradford, one of the Justices of the Peace for the county of Newcastle, the 17th day of March, 1854.

JOHN BRADFORD, J. P.

_______________

SEE: Discharge of Davis

SOURCE: SOURCES: William Still, The Underground Railroad: A Record of Facts, Authentic Narratives, Letters &c., p. 245

Re-commitment of Davis, March 21, 1854

New Castle county, ss., the-State of Delaware to Wm. R. Lynam, and to the Sheriff or keeper of the Common Jail of said county, “Whereas —— Davis hath this day been brought before me, the subscriber, one of the Justices of the Peace, in and for the said county, charged upon the oath of Robert Hardie with being a runaway slave, and also as a suspicious person, traveling without a pass, these are therefore to command you, the said Wm. R. Lynam, forthwith to convey and deliver into the custody of the said Sheriff, or keeper of the said jail, the body of the said Davis, and you the said Sheriff or receiver of the body of the said Davis into your custody in the said jail, and him there safely keep until he be thence delivered by due course of the law.

Given under my hand and seal at New Castle this 21st day of March, A. D., 1854.

JOHN BRADFORD, J. P.

SOURCE: SOURCES: William Still, The Underground Railroad: A Record of Facts, Authentic Narratives, Letters &c., p. 245-6

Lieutenant-General Ulysses S. Grant to Major-General William T. Sherman, May 27, 1865

WASHINGTON, May 27, 1865.

Maj. Gen. W. T. SHERMAN,

Commanding Military Division of the Mississippi:

General Augur has just been to see me on the matter of the conduct of men and officers of your command since coming north of the Potomac. He says that a deep feeling is exhibited by them, especially when a little in liquor, on account of the difficulties between yourself and Secretary Stanton He has purposely avoided arresting them for fear of leading to violence and the charge that it is a hostility on the part of the Secretary to them and to yourself. Yesterday many of the officers were at Willard's, drinking and discussing violently the conduct of Mr. Stanton, and occasionally would jump on the counter and give three groans for Mr. Stanton, then get down and take another drink. Without giving any order in the matter, I think it will be advisable for you either to direct guards to be placed around the camps and prohibit officers and men from coming out except with passes from their division commanders or such other officers as you may direct, or move to the south side of the river. You can manage this without any order from me. What we want is to preserve quiet and decorum and without apparently making any distinction between the different armies. General Augur says that when the men of the different armies meet in town, if drinking, they are sure to fight, and both your army and Meade's pitch into the Veteran Reserves indiscriminately. The Army of the Potomac, being on the south side of the river, can be kept out of the city, except when they come with proper passes.

U. S. GRANT,

Lieutenant-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 47, Part 3 (Serial No. 100), p. 576

Major-General Benjamin F. Butler to Brigadier General John W. Phelps, May 23, 1862

HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF,

New Orleans, May 23, 1862.

Brigadier-General PHELPS,

Commanding Camp Parapet:

GENERAL: You will cause all unemployed persons, black and white, to be excluded from your lines.

You will not permit either black or white persons to pass your lines, not officers or soldiers or belonging to the Navy of the United States, without a pass from these headquarters, except they are brought in under guard as captured persons with information; these to be examined and detained as prisoners of war if they have been in arms against the United States or dismissed and sent away at once, as the case may be. This does not apply to boats passing up the river without landing within lines.

Provision dealers and market men are to be allowed to pass in with provisions and their wares, but not to remain overnight. Persons having had their permanent residence within your lines before the occupation of our troops are not to be considered unemployed persons.

Your officers have reported a large number of servants. Every officer so reported employing servants will have the allowance for servants deducted from his pay roll.

Respectfully, your obedient servant,

BENJ. F. BUTLER,

Major-General, Commanding.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 15 (Serial No. 21), p. 443-4