Diary of 4th Corporal Bartlett Yancey Malone: June 26, 1862

we travield sloley down the Chickahominy River driving in the pickets as we went

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 22

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 5, 1865

Bright and pleasant.

Stayed with my next door neighbors at their request last night—all females. It was quiet; and so far the United States pickets and guards have preserved perfect order.

The cheers that greeted President Lincoln were mostly from the negroes and Federals comprising the great mass of humanity. The white citizens felt annoyed that the city should be held mostly by negro troops. If this measure were not unavoidable, it was impolitic if conciliation be the purpose.

Mr. Lincoln, after driving to the mansion lately occupied by Mr. Davis, Confederate States President, where he rested, returned, I believe, to the fleet at Rocketts.

This morning thousands of negroes and many white females are besieging the public officers for provisions. I do not observe any getting them, and their faces begin to express disappointment.

It is said all the negro men, not entering the army, will be put to work, rebuilding bridges, repairing railroads, etc.

I have seen a New York Herald of the 3d, with dispatches of the 1st and 2d inst. from Mr. Lincoln, who was at City Point during the progress of the battle. He sums up with estimate of 12,000 prisoners captured, and 50 guns.

The rumor of a success by Gen. Lee on Monday is still credited. Per contra, it is reported that President Davis is not only a captive, but will soon be exhibited in Capitol Square.

The Rev. Mr. Dashiell, who visited us to-day, said it was reported and believed that 6000 South Carolina troops threw down their arms; and that a large number of Mississippians deserted giving such information to the enemy as betrayed our weak points, etc.

Three P.M. I feel that this Diary is near its end.

The burnt district includes all the banks, money-changers, and principal speculators and extortioners. This seems like a decree from above!

Four P.M. The Square is nearly vacated by the negroes. An officer told me they intended to put them in the army in a few days, and that the Northern people did not really like negro equality any better than we did.

Two rumors prevail: that Lee gained a victory on Monday, and that Lee has capitulated, with 35,000 men.

The policy of the conquerors here, I believe, is still undecided, and occupies the attention of Mr. Lincoln and his cabinet.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 471-2

Diary of Private Adam S. Johnston, August 26, 1862

Left the Tunnel camp and arrived at Grallatin on the same day, driving General Morgan and his forces out of the above named town, killing one of the rebel pickets because he would not halt when ordered by one of our number, and took possession of the town for the night, making a march of 7 miles.

SOURCE: Adam S. Johnston, The Soldier Boy's Diary Book, p. 19

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty: August 1, 1861

It is said the pickets of the Fourteenth Indiana and the enemy's cavalry came in collision to-day, and that three of the latter were killed.

It is now 9 P. M. Sergeants are calling the roll for the last time to-night. In half an hour taps will be sounded and the lights extinguished in every private's tent. The first call in the morning, reveille, is at five; breakfast call, six; surgeon's call, seven; drill, eight; recall, eleven; dinner, twelve; drill again at four; recall, five; guard-mounting, half-past five; first call for dress-parade, six; second call, half-past six; tattoo at nine, and taps at half-past. So the day goes round.

Hardee for a month or more was a book of impenetrable mysteries. The words conveyed no idea to my mind, and the movements described were utterly beyond my comprehension; but now the whole thing comes almost without study.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 41

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty: August 4, 1861

At one o'clock P. M. General Reynolds sent for Two of Colonel Wagner's companies had been surrounded, and an attack on Wagner's position expected to-night. The enemy reported three thousand strong. He desired me to send half of my regiment and two of Loomis' guns to the support of Wagner. I took six companies and started up the valley. Reached Wagner's quarters at six o'clock. Brought neither tents nor provisions, and to-night will turn in with the Indianians.

It is true that the enemy number three thousand; the main body being ten or fifteen miles away. Their pickets and ours, however, are near each other; but General Reynolds was misinformed as to two of Wagner's companies. They had not been surrounded.

To-morrow Colonel Wagner and I will make a reconnoissance, and ascertain if the rebels are ready to fight. Wagner has six hundred and fifty men fit for duty, and I have four hundred. Besides these, we have three pieces of artillery. Altogether, we expect to be able to hoe them a pretty good row, if they should advance on us. Four of the enemy were captured to-day. A company of cavalry is approaching. "Halt! who comes there?" cries the sentinel. "Lieutenant Denny, without the countersign." "All right," shouts Colonel Wagner, "let him come.” I write with at least four fleas hopping about on my legs.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 43-4

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty: August 8, 1861

Major Wood, Fifteenth Indiana, thought he heard chopping last night, and imagined that the enemy was engaged in cutting a road to our rear.

Lieutenant Driscoll and party returned to-day. They slept on the mountains last night; were inside the enemy's picket lines; heard reveille sounded this morning, but could not obtain a view of the camp.

Have just returned from a sixteen-mile ride, visiting picket posts. The latter half of the ride was after nightfall. Found officers and men vigilant and ready to meet an attack.

Obtained some fine huckleberries and blackberries on the mountain to-day. Had a blackberry pie and pudding for dinner. Rather too much happiness for one day; but then the crust of the pudding was tolerably tough. The grass is a foot high in parts of my tent, where it has not been trodden down, and the gentle grasshopper makes music all the day, and likewise all the night.

Our fortifications are progressing slowly. If the enemy intends to attack at all, he will probably do so before they are complete; and if he does not, the fortifications will be of no use to us. But this is the philosophy of a lazy man, and very similar to that of the Irishman who did not put roof on his cabin: when it rained he could not, and in fair weather he did not need it.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 47-8

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty: August 9, 1861

Pickets report firing, artillery and musketry, over the mountain, in the direction of Kimball.

The enemy's scouts were within three miles of our camp this afternoon, evidently looking for a path that would enable them to get to our rear. Fifty men have just been sent in pursuit; but owing to a little misunderstanding of instructions, I fear the expedition will be fruitless. Colonel Wagner neither thinks clearly nor talks with any degree of exactness. He has a loose, slip-shod, indefinite way with him, that tends to confusion and leads to misunderstandings and trouble.

I have been over the mountain on our left, hunting up the paths and familiarizing myself with the ground, so as to be ready to defeat any effort that may be made to turn our flank. Colonel Owen has been investigating the mountain on our right. The Colonel is a good thinker, an excellent conversationalist, and a very learned man.

Geology is his darling, and he keeps one eye on the enemy, and the other on the rocks.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 48-9

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty: August 12, 1861

This is the fourth day that Captain Cunard's company has been lying in the woods, three miles from camp, guarding an important road, although a very rough and rugged one. Companies upon duty like this, remain at their posts day and night, good weather and bad, without any shelter, except that afforded by the trees, or by little booths constructed of logs and branches. From the main station, where the captain remains, sub-pickets are sent out in charge of sergeants and corporals, and these often make little houses of logs, which they cover with cedar boughs or branches of laurel, and denominate forts. In the wilderness, to-day, I stumbled upon Fort Stiner, the head-quarters of a sub-picket commanded by Corporal William Stiner, of the Third. The Corporal and such of his men as were off duty, were sitting about a fire, heating coffee and roasting slices of fat pork, preparing thus the noonday meal.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 50-1

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty: August 14, 1861

Privates Vincent and Watson, sentinels of a sub-picket, under command of Corporal Stiner, discovered a man stealing through the woods, and halted him. He professed to be a farm hand; said his employer had a mountain farm not far away, where he pastured cattle. A two-year-old steer had strayed off, and he was looking for him. His clothes were fearfully torn by brush and briars. His hands and face were scratched by thorns. He had taken off his boots to relieve his swollen feet, and was carrying them in his hands. Imitating the language and manners of an uneducated West Virginian, he asked the sentinel if he "had seed anything of a red steer." The sentinel had not. After continuing the conversation for a time, he finally said: "Well, I must be a goin'; it is a gettin' late, and I am durned feared I won't git back to the farm afore night. Good day." "Hold on," said the sentinel; "better go and see the Captain." "O, no; don't want to trouble him; it is not likely he has seed the steer, and it's a gettin' late.” "Come right along," replied the sentinel, bringing his gun down; "the Captain will not mind being troubled; in fact, I am instructed to take such men as you to him."

Captain Cunard questioned the prisoner closely, asked whom he worked for, how much he was getting a month for his services, and, finally, pointing to the long-legged military boots which he was still holding in his hands, asked how much they cost. "Fifteen dollars," replied the prisoner." "Fifteen dollars! Is not that rather more than a farm hand who gets but twelve dollars a month can afford to pay for boots?” inquired the Captain. "Well, the fact is, boots is a gettin' high since the war, as well as every thing else." But Captain Cunard was not satisfied. The prisoner was not well up in the character he had undertaken to play, and was told that he must go to head-quarters. Finding that he was caught, he at once threw off the mask, and confessed that he was Captain J. A. De Lagniel, formerly of the regular army, but now in the Confederate service. Wounded at the battle of Rich mountain, he had been secreted at a farm-house near Beverly until able to travel, and was now trying to get around our pickets and reach the rebel army. He had been in the mountains five days and four nights. The provisions with which he started, and which consisted of a little bag of biscuit, had become moldy. He thought, from the distance traveled, that he must be beyond our lines and out of danger.

De Lagniel is an educated man, and his wife and friends believe him to have been killed at Rich mountain. He speaks in high terms of Captain Cunard, and says, when the latter began to question him, he soon found it was useless to play Major Andre, for Paulding was before him, too sharp to be deceived and too honest to be bribed. When De Lagniel was brought into camp he was wet and shivering, weak, and thoroughly broken down by starvation, cold, exposure, and fatigue. The officers supplied him with the clothing necessary to make him comfortable.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 51-3

Diary of 4th Corporal Bartlett Yancey Malone: May 28, 1862

The 28 day was clear and about a hour befour the sun set we left our camp And march all night down toward Hanover Coathouse And we past in about three hundred yards of the Yankeys pickets And then we stopt and rested about 3 hours And about 8 oclock the next day we started back and went about 5 or 6 miles and stopt for the night

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 20

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 26, 1865

Frost last night. Cloudy, cold, and windy to-day. Suffered much yesterday and last night with disordered bowels—from cold. This, however, may relieve me of the distressing cough I have had for months.

After all, I fear Lee's attempt on the enemy's lines yesterday was a failure. We were compelled to relinquish the fort or battery we had taken, with all the guns we had captured. Our men were exposed to an enfilading fire, not being supported by the divisions intended to co-operate in the movement. The 600 prisoners were completely surprised—their pickets supposing our troops to be merely deserters. This indicates an awful state of things, the enemy being convinced that we are beaten, demoralized, etc.

There was a communication for the Secretary this morning, from "headquarters;" but being marked "confidential," I did not open it, but sent it to Gen. Breckinridge.

Pickett's division has been marching for Petersburg all the morning.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 459

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Friday, January 10, 1862

An officer of the First Minnesota Regiment appeared at our quarters, communicating that rebel pickets occupied Harrison's Island.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 31

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Sunday, January 12, 1862

Considerable picket firing. Nothing important up to Monday, January 20.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 31

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, July 17, 1863

At 2 o'clock on the morning of the 17th an order came for the pickets to fall back noiselessly to the trenches, which we did very quietly. On arriving here we found the main body of the enemy had slipped off during the night. By a rapid march we reached Brandon, on the Southern Railroad, having made fourteen miles before the heat of the day. The retreat was admirably managed throughout, and it was not until late in the day that the enemy learned that the bird had flown. At this place, the progress of the brigade was delayed some time to allow another body of troops, coming by a different road, to get in advance, and it was late in the evening before we reached a camping-place, three miles east of Brandon. On this march we suffered greatly from hunger, in consequence of not finding our wagon-train in time to save the rations from being spoilt. Corn-fields suffered that night.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 280

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones: Wednesday, September 3, 1862

Rienzi.  Woke by the bugle at 3:30 A. M.; went out to roll call and drill. The weather fine. Washed shirt and stockings for first time. Wrote home. Drilled by Syl. Sweet in the evening on the gun. The enemy skirmished our pickets, wounded three; our horses were harnessed ready. I felt a little flushed.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 3

Diary of Musician David Lane, June 16, 1863

At about four o'clock this afternoon we met two of our gunboats near Napoleon, Mississippi, who told us they had just dislodged a Rebel battery planted on the shore, and had burned two small villages. Thinking it not safe to proceed, our fleet was hauled inshore, a strong guard was posted and pickets stationed on shore to prevent surprise. Most of the men threw themselves down, their arms beside them, to rest as best they might. Some few had gone ashore and were enjoying a social chat around their blazing camp fires, while the more restless ones were working off the effects of the bad whisky they had imbibed during the day with boisterous, hilarious merriment. It was half-past ten; feeling wakeful, I had not retired, but sat on the railing of the vessel, talking over past events with a friend from Jackson. Presently two rifle shots rang out, followed by a volley from our pickets. Then was there hurrying to and fro. The men sprang instinctively to arms. Officers rushed from their rooms in dishabille, the timid crouched behind anything that offered the slightest protection. Confusion reigned. But soon our Colonel appeared, cool and collected, calm as a summer eve. "Steady, men, stand by your arms and wait orders." More pickets were sent out and we patiently awaited the attack. But it did not come. It was, probably, an attempt by some cowardly wretches to murder one or two of our pickets and escape under cover of darkness. No one was hurt. We started soon after daylight, convoyed by two gunboats, prepared for any emergency, and expecting fun. One gunboat led the way, the other followed in our rear, their bright little guns portruding from their coalblack sides. They have a jaunty, saucy air, that seems to say: "Just knock this chip off my shoulder, if you dare." We were all excitement for a while, eagerly scanning every tree or log, thinking to see a puff of smoke or a "cracker's" head at every turn. Seeing nothing for so long a time, we began to think it all a hoax, when suddenly, as we rounded a point, running close inshore, the transport in front of us was fired on by a concealed foe. Their fire was instantly returned, and the saucy little gunboats rounded to and gave them a broadside of grape, followed by shell, at short range. Our boys were quickly in line, watching with eager eyes for Rebel heads. Fortunately not a man was injured on either vessel. A sad accident occurred this afternoon. A young man of Company H was standing guard at the head of the stairs. He stood on the upper step, leaning on his gun. It slipped and the hammer struck the step below. The bullet passed through his stomach and lodged near the spine.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 50-2

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

GOLDSBORO.

There was no time this morning to cook coffee, so we started on a cold-water breakfast, after another cold night, with little good sleep, and marched without incident until four P.M., when we heard the usual cannonade at the front. As soon as the noise of the cannon was heard, then commenced the usual straggling. All have some of course. The attention of our boys was called to a scene upon which we looked with surprise, and which many of our company will never forget. As we passed from the main road to take position on the hill, we saw a man, or what was dressed as a man, in Uncle Sam's clothes, importuned by another to join his command. He would not budge; and the concluding words we heard as we passed by, were: "Damn it, man! just look here: look at this regiment going in; there is not a man there; they are all boys with no hair on their faces, and you afraid!" We pitied the fellow, and often wondered if he joined his company. His pride had evidently gone on a furlough. We halted on a high hill, from which we could see all that was going on, and soon found we were in reserve, which pleased us all. After getting turnips and sweet potatoes,—of which we found a plenty (all planted for us),—we straggled to the edge of the bluff and watched the fight. In a tree close to where we stood was a signal station, and by that we supposed Gen. Foster was near. On the left we could see the railroad which leads into Goldsboro, and the fighting over it; to the right, the bridge; while in front, close to the river, there seemed to be a continuous sheet of flame from our advance and the rebels. Some of our men worked their way to the mill; and a story was told by one of the 17th Mass. Vols., who reached the bridge on his own account, that he saw a train of cars stop there, and, just as it halted, a shot from one of our batteries struck the engine in the head-plate, smashing the engine badly. He could see men jump from the cars in all haste. (This story was told several years after the action; and the fact of those men coming as they did, and perhaps others behind, may have been the reason we left so suddenly, and went to New Berne.)

About seven o'clock Gen. Foster rode past our line, saying: "The object of the expedition [the burning of the bridge and partially destroying the connection between the Gulf States and Richmond] is accomplished. We are going to New Berne."

We were immediately formed, and started on the back track with cheers for the general; but we had not gone three miles before we found we were not "out of the woods." Orders came to countermarch, so we turned about, wondering what all the artillery firing meant. We tramped back about two miles or so through the woods, on fire on both sides of the road, turned to the left down hill, and formed line in silence, waiting. We were not allowed to speak or light our pipes, but waited, it seemed, for two hours. The regiment was formed in division column closed in mass; the company behind us being only a few feet away, and in front nothing but the pickets and supposable rebels. After staying here a while we heard the artillery go along the road, and soon followed. We reached camp about ten o'clock, tired and hungry, but no chance to get anything to eat, and a man missing. He turned up afterwards, having settled himself for a nap when we were in the woods. Not finding any one near when he awakened, he concluded to strike out for himself—happily remembering that old broken caisson beside the road, and recollecting on which side he left it on going in, he soon came Russelling" into camp with the rest of us.

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 27-8

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

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

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 23-4

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, December 13, 1862

Last night the company forager, Russell, nearly lost his life. Having stolen or appropriated a mule, he spent most of his time, while on the march, scouring the neighboring chicken-roosts, and, as usual, came in last evening loaded down, a hoop-skirt pannier on each side of his animal, being distended to its uttermost capacity with good things, from eggs to a side of bacon. The picket where he came on the line happened to be a Dutchman, who understood very little English, and nothing of his duty (not of our regiment), and the mule, caparisoned as he was with the white skirts, stealing upon him with little noise, frightened the poor fellow so that he fired at the forager, and then challenged him, but after a deal of talk, our man got by and rendered a good account of himself.

We started about seven this morning, and after marching about nine miles heard firing ahead, and were ordered to halt, and "right and left" was the word. Lying down, we rested while our artillery went through the line. We waited a long time. Then we moved forward, and, entering a large field on the left, were drawn up in line of battle. We were on an elevation, where we could see all that was going on, or thought we could, which served the purpose, as we all found out sooner or later. The men knew little or nothing, and anyone asking an officer, he always replied, "I'm sure I cannot tell you”—a most unsatisfactory way of explaining matters.

About four o'clock we stacked our arms, with orders not to leave the ranks; and supposing the enemy to be in our immediate vicinity, we kept quiet for an hour;then, as there did not appear to be any special movement, we were allowed to get something to eat; and soon found we were to stay here all night, but were not allowed to remove our accoutrements.

From our position we have a beautiful view of our camp-ground. We are situated on a knoll, with General Stevenson's head-quarters in our immediate vicinity, with the different regiments scattered in all directions; while down in the woods, directly in front of our line, we can just see the cavalry picket. We are wondering if all our fighting is to be done on Sundays. Our first fight was on Sunday, and it is now Saturday night; and we are so close to the enemy that we have orders to sleep with our rifles in our hands. Probably no baked beans or brown bread for us to-morrow.

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 24-5

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty: July 8, 1861

This morning, at seven o'clock, our tents were struck, and, with General McClellan and staff in advance, we moved to Middle Fork bridge. It was here that Captain Lawson's skirmish on Saturday had occurred. The man killed had been buried by the Fourth Ohio before our arrival. Almost every house along the road is deserted by the men, the women sometimes remaining. The few Union men of this section have, for weeks past, been hiding away in the hills. Now the secessionists have taken to the woods. The utmost bitterness of feeling exists between the two. A man was found to-day, within a half mile of this camp, with his head cut off and entrails ripped out, probably a Union man who had been hounded down and killed. The Dutch regiment (McCook's), when it took possession of the bridge, had a slight skirmish with the enemy, and, I learn, killed two men. On the day after to-morrow I apprehend the first great battle will be fought in Western Virginia.

I ate breakfast in Buckhannon at six o'clock A. M., and now, at six o'clock P. M. am awaiting my second meal.

The boys, I ascertain, searched one secession house on the road, and found three guns and a small amount of ammunition. The guns were hunting pieces, all loaded. The woman of the house was very indignant, and spoke in disrespectful terms of the Union men of the neighborhood, whom she suspected of instigating the search. She said she "had come from a higher sphere than they, and would not lay down with dogs." She was an Eastern Virginia woman, and, although poor as a church mouse, thought herself superior to West Virginia people. As an indication of this lady's refinement and loyalty, it is only necessary to say that a day or two before she had displayed a secession flag made, as she very frankly told the soldiers, of the tail of an old shirt, with J. D. and S. C. on it, the letters standing for Jefferson Davis and the Southern Confederacy.

Four or five thousand men are encamped here, huddled together in a little circular valley, with high hills surrounding. A company of cavalry is just going by my tent on the road toward Beverly, probably to watch the front.

As we were leaving camp this morning, an officer of an Ohio regiment rode at break-neck speed along the line, inquiring for General McClellan, and yelling, as he passed, that four companies of the regiment to which he belongs had been surrounded at Glendale, by twelve hundred secessionists, under O. Jennings Wise. Our men, misapprehending the statement, thought Buckhannon had been attacked, and were in a great state of excitement.

The officers of General Schleich's staff were with me on to-day's march, and the younger members, Captains Hunter and Dubois, got off whatever poetry they had in them of a military cast. "On Linden when the sun was low," was recited to the hills of Western Virginia in a manner that must have touched even the stoniest of them. I could think of nothing but "There was a sound of revelry by night," and as this was not particularly applicable to the occasion, owing to the exceeding brightness of the sun, and the entire absence of all revelry, I thought best not to astonish my companions by exhibiting my knowledge of the poets.

West Virginia hogs are the longest, lankest, boniest animals in creation. I am reminded of this by that broth of an Irish lad, Conway, who says, in substance, and with a broad Celtic accent, that their noses have to be sharpened every morning to enable them to pick a living among the rocks.

Colonel Marrow informs me that an attack is apprehended to-night. We have sent out strong pickets. The cannon are so placed as to shoot up the road. Our regiment is to form on the left of the turnpike, and the Dutch regiment on the right, in case the secession forces should be bold enough to come down on us.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 16-8