Private John C. West to Mary Stark West, June 8, 1863

CAMP NEAR CULPEPPER,        

JUNE 8TH, 1863.

MY PRECIOUS WIFE:

I have determined to write you another letter, although I cannot do so with the satisfaction it usually affords me, for I feel so uncertain whether you will ever read what I write.

In this I shall attempt a hurried sketch of the past ten days, unless I am interrupted by an order to leave before I get through. Already, since I have commenced this, we have received notice to be ready to march at the sound of the bugle, which may mean in ten minutes, or ten hours, so you see under what difficulties I write to my sweetheart. On yesterday week we left our camp on the Rapidan, from which I last wrote you, and took a hot and dusty march of sixteen miles towards Fredericksburg, and on the next morning were ordered to retrace our steps and took the same wearisome march and camped near our old ground, where we remained until Thursday morning at daylight, and then proceeded to this place, making another hot and toilsome march of sixteen miles. We remained here until Saturday at 12 o'clock m., when we started and marched towards the Rappahannock until 10 o'clock at night. This was a severe march. It rained for two hours in the afternoon and I was completely soaked. It kept drizzling on until daylight. About 10 o'clock at night we were ordered to halt and camp, "without fires," as the Yanks were not far off. It was a novel sight to me to see or rather to hear 20,000 or 30,000 men rushing into the woods on the side of the road to (here comes orders to march at 12 o'clock) secure a place to lie down. We all laid down on "the cold ground" like tired hounds after a chase.

Jim Manahan, Tom Selman and myself laid down together. I was very wet, but very weary. I spent a few minutes listening to the hum of 10,000 tongues cursing the Yankees, talking of home and thinking of how pleasant it would be to take a bath and a toddy, and how sad my wife would feel if she knew all that I was undergoing. I was glad that she did not know it for I did not suffer when I called to mind that these hardships were for the good of my country and the cause of liberty. Amid all this I could not suppress a laugh to hear the expressions of some wayworn chap as a straggler would creep into the bushes and grope about for a place to spread his blanket. I could hear, "get off my hand," "now you are on my foot," "for heaven's sake," (or something worse), "keep your feet out of my face," "Oh, my back, you are right on top of me," "you weigh six hundred pounds," etc., etc.

In the course of an hour all was quiet save the riding back and forth of couriers, which I could hear all night as our "bed" was not more than a foot from the ruts in the road. I could put my hand out in the mud three or four inches deep, but I slept pretty well, and waked at daylight well and heard the order to retrace our steps to our camp near Culpepper. We formed and started back. It was my turn to stand guard, so I was put as part of the rear guard for our regiment, and marched back to this place, which we reached about 2 o'clock yesterday afternoon. I remained on guard until 8 o'clock this morning. I got by the fire a while last night and looked at your daguerreotype by the light of it, and felt happy in the thought of once more meeting you and talking over the dangers which I am now passing through. I feel sure that we shall meet the Yanks in the course of three weeks, but cannot tell when.

All of our movements are inexplicable to me. We never know anything. Even a colonel cannot tell until he starts from camp in which direction he is going, whether North or South. This secrecy is the secret of the success of this army. I forgot to say above, that, as a matter of amusement, and to keep us from getting stiff, we were marched on last Friday six miles off to witness a review of Stuart's cavalry; it was a grand display; 10,000 or 12,000 mounted men is more than I expected to see at one sight. I saw Wat Taylor, but Lamar Stark was off on duty across the river. We returned to camp at night, making twelve miles "for fun" and left the next day at 1 o'clock, as I stated above, so you will see that we have been on the wing for nearly ten days. This marching and countermarching is what they call "Demonstrations," and if they accomplish the objects for which I left my friends I am perfectly satisfied. The marching is no great trouble to me, but twenty or thirty pounds of baggage gets heavy before night, especially in wet weather, on a slippery hillside—when one is so much fatigued that to sneeze or blow his nose jostles him from one side of the road to the other. I saw a great many poor fellows barefooted in the marches of which I have written, but we got some shoes this morning, and I hope we will get on better. Don't forget Stark's lessons and Mary's letters. Kiss them for me and tell the servants howdy. I must stop now and get ready to leave. I hope to hear from you some of these days. I have not received a line yet.

Your husband, faithfully ever,

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. 69-73

Diary of Musician David Lane, October 14, 1863

Our part in this expedition is done, and we are on our way back to Knoxville. Wilcox's "baby brigade," as our boys call them, and the Twenty-third Corps, together with cavalry and mounted infantry, are following up the retreating Rebels. I have not learned the result of the fight, and probably will not for some days to come. Over a hundred of their dead are buried at Blue Springs, where our forces first overtook them, and as far as I went which was fifteen miles—every house was filled with their wounded.

I saw some were from Lee's army. One Lieutenant said he remembered seeing our regiment at Fredericksburg. He had stood picket opposite our boys several times. There was a brigade from the Rappahannock. Their force, he said, was about eight thousand, all mounted. The facts in the case were about as follows: Burnside had cleared his department of armed Rebels and had advanced into Virginia as far as Salt Town, where the Rebels had extensive salt works, strongly fortified. Before he could concentrate sufficient force to destroy these works, word came that Rosa was in danger—that Burnside was to hold himself in readiness to reinforce him at a minute's notice. In order to do this he must withdraw all his forces from the northeast and concentrate them near Knoxville.

The Rebels followed up as he fell back, and occupied the positions he had driven them from.

Before Burnside reached Morristown, word came from Rosa that he was safe inside his fortifications and was being rapidly reinforced by Grant. This left Burnside free to do over again what had been undone, but through no fault of his.

It was a touching sight to witness the joy of these much-abused people at our return. Men who had fled to the bush as the Rebels advanced, and dare not, for their lives, appear, came flocking in and were welcomed with tears and shouts of joy by wives and children. Their gratitude was unbounded.

As I witnessed the delight of these people and listened to their tales of suffering, I felt more than ever that I was engaged in a just and holy cause, and my heart was strengthened to do and dare for human liberty.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 105-6

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 John C. West, Tuesday, June 9, 1863

This morning about six o'clock there was heavy cannonading towards the Rappahanock. It is now after nine o'clock and the firing still continues. We have just received orders to form and are now resting in line ready to move at the word of command. Perhaps I may see my first battle today or to-morrow—will it be the last?

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, p. 59

Diary of 4th Corporal Bartlett Yancey Malone, January 1, 1863

The first day of January was a pritty day and our Company was on picket down on the Rapahanock River about a mile and a half below Fredericksburg Va.

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 28

Diary of 4th Corporal Bartlett Yancey Malone: December 31, 1862

last day of 1862 was cool and cloudy and our Regiment had muster inspection in the day and at nite our Company had to go on picket gard down the bank of the Rapahanok River whar we was in about a hundred yards of the Yankees pickets they was on one side of the river and we was on the other we was in talken distence but our officer would not alow ous to talk they would cum down on the bank and hollow to ous and say if we would bring the boat over that they would come over on our side and have a talk. So that was the last of our works for the year 1862.

BARTLETT Y. MALONE Co. H. 6th N. C. Regiment

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 27

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, Friday, May 1, 1863

"Boots and saddles" at five A.M. Crossed the Rappahannock on a pontoon-bridge at United States Ford. Marched to Chancellorsville, and went into camp at five o'clock. Skirmishing going on all day. We have marched eight 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. 274

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, May 2, 1863

Started out at eight A.M., Marched down, and went into battery on the banks of the Rappahannock, behind a line of rifle-pits. Firing, at intervals, all day, and heavy firing during the night.

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. 274

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, May 29, 1863

Started from camp at Potomac Creek at six A.M., marched to the Rappahannock, and went into position at United States Ford. The rebel earthworks could be plainly seen, on the opposite banks of the river. The weather was pleasant. Marched fourteen miles. Remained on picket at United States Ford until June 4.

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. 275

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Daniel L. Ambrose: May 10, 1865

On the morning of the 10th we move towards Richmond. For some cause unknown we do not enter the city, but are ordered into camp three miles from the bridge that spans the James river. remain in camp here until the 14th, when Sherman's victorious army enters Richmond. We pass Libby Prison, which seemed to send an appeal from her dark recesses to Sherman's army to sweep the city from the earth. But Sherman held the rein, and Richmond fell not a victim to their wrath. We pass on through the city, moving on the road leading to Fredericksburg, where we arrive and cross the Rappahannock on the 16th. Night coming on, we go into camp on the banks of the Potomac. In the evening we look away in the distance and behold its winding way. What a tale of blood could this river tell. But the story will never be known until a book unscanned by mortal eyes shall be unfolded before the assembled universe.

SOURCE: abstracted from Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 308-9

Diary of Private Louis Leon: May 13, 1864

Left here this morning and passed through Fredericksburg. Crossed the Rappahannock on pontoon bridges, and got to Belle Plain on the Potomac at 3 o'clock-nineteen miles to-day. It rained all day, and it is very muddy.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 62

Diary of Private Louis Leon: November 3, 1863

Went on picket on the Rappahannock at Norman's Ford, six miles from camp.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 51

Diary of Private Louis Leon: November 7, 1863

To-day, as several of us went to get some straw near Kelly's Ford, we heard firing, and the long roll beat. Looking up we saw the Yankees crossing the river. We double-quicked to camp and got there just in time to fall in with our regiment, to intercept the enemy, but they had already crossed the river before we got there. We manoeuvered about until dark, when my corps of sharpshooters was ordered out. We were within one hundred yards of the Yankees, and saw them around their fires very plainly. On the morning of the 8th we retreated in very good order. I certainly was glad of it, as we were in a very bad fix. We marched until sun-up and halted on Stone Mountain, passed through Stevensburg. Stayed here all night, and resumed our march and halted on the morning of the 9th. We then crossed the Rapidan at the Raccoon Ford, and are now camped at our old camp at Moulton Ford. We marched, since leaving Kelly's Ford, forty miles. The distance is only seventeen miles. We were certainly surprised for the first time since the war. We did not dream the enemy was on us before the firing commenced. Our brigade was cut off from the army twice, but our General Daniels got us through safe. Nothing new up to the 26th.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 51-2

Diary of Private Louis Leon: October 12, 1863

Started at daylight, marched twenty-five miles, waded the Hazel River at 10 this morning. Had to take off our shoes and pants, according to orders. It was very cold. We got within a quarter of a mile of Jefferson town, when the fight commenced. We drove the Yankees through town double quick. We halted one mile on the other side of the town, then formed in line of battle once more and went forward. We drove the enemy over the Rappahannock and through Warrington Springs; took 300 prisoners and halted at 9 in the night.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 49-50

Diary of Private Louis Leon: October 18, 1863

Started at 4 this morning and marched ten miles toward Culpepper Court House. We tore up the railroad from Manassas to the Rappahannock River. The way we tear up railroads is this: we take the cross-ties and make a square of them as high as your head. We place the rails on the cross-ties, then set it afire and the rails bend double.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 51

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, May 22, 1863

May 22.

After all it seems the doubters are justified; Hooker is on the wrong side of the Rappahannock. But you will be glad to know that here we are so peaceful there is no danger of my telling you great stories of forced marches and hard fights. Today we have endured the trials of a picnic, over in the oak grove at Barnwell's. It is rare that we exert ourselves so much, but Mrs. Lander gave the order with so much grace that General Saxton and our Colonel and his staff entered the lists manfully, and I have rarely seen better dancing and eating.

Three fugitives came from the main land this morning. They watched from the other shore our pickets when they discharged their guns and withdrew from a certain post, and then came across in a little “dug-out” which the rebels had buried at some former salt works;—an old man and his two sons. He thinks he can run off a good many He will have the opportunity to try more.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 392-3

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, October 25, 1864

Near Petersburg, Va.,        

October 25, 1864.

I have a bright fire this morning. There is a nice chimney to my tent, which makes it almost as comfortable as a house. The regiment is on the extreme right of our lines, but is several miles from the field infirmary where I am stationed. The brigades are frequently shifted about, but I trust ours will remain where it is, because there is plenty of wood near by.

Everything is very quiet on the lines. I suppose you have heard of the defeat of General Early again in the Valley. He has not yet gained a single victory worth mentioning, and it is time we had a new commander there. We have a great many good fighters, but so few good generals. I am anxious to hear something from General Hood, for if he can whip Sherman at Atlanta the situation may be entirely changed.

The health of all the men appears to be about as good as if they were at home under shelter and with suitable diet. Our troops seem as happy and lively as men could be, although they get nothing to eat now but bread and meat. We have eaten nearly all the beef Hampton captured recently in rear of Grant's army, but we have received some from North Carolina which is very nice and tender.

Your brother Edwin is to be appointed a lieutenant in the Fourteenth Regiment. I took dinner with him yesterday. Lieutenant Petty, with whom he messes, had just received a box from home, and I fared sumptuously. My box has not yet arrived. Boxes now take about two weeks to reach here. Your brother had received his new suit from home. Billie is well and hearty, but he needs a new coat. These government coats are too thin for exposed duty.

I have a nice little Yankee axe, which is so light that it can be carried in a knapsack, but it just suits a soldier for use in putting up his little shelter tent or for making a fire. All the Yankees have these little axes, and many of our men have supplied themselves with them, as they have with almost everything else the Yankees possess.

Are you making preparations to come out here this winter? Colonel Hunt will have his wife to come out again, and a great many other officers are arranging for their wives to come on soon. Some of them are here already, but I think it best for you to wait until winter puts a stop to military operations. When we left the Rappahannock River last fall some of the officers carried their wives along by having them wrap up well and putting them in the ambulance; and if you were here and we had to move I could easily take you along that way. I want you to come just as soon as circumstances will permit, but this war has taught me to bear with patience those things which cannot be avoided and not to be upset when my wishes cannot be gratified.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 110-2

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, October 20, 1863

Camp near Rappahannock River,

Culpeper County, Va.,

October 20, 1863.

This is the first chance I have had to write to you since we started on our autumn campaign. We have succeeded in maneuvering Meade entirely out of Virginia, as you must have already learned. The infantry did not have much fighting to do at any time on the entire trip, but the cavalry fought a large part of the time. Two North Carolina brigades became engaged with the enemy late one afternoon near Bristow Station, and our side got rather the worst of it. It was all due to the miserable management of General Hill or General Heth, or possibly both of them. The next morning the Yankees were gone, as they did not dare give battle to General Lee.

We have had a pretty hard time of it for the last few days on account of so much rain. It made the marching extremely disagreeable, but I stood the trip well, and enjoyed the best of health. To-day the weather has cleared and it is bright and pleasant.

We have destroyed the railroad between Manassas and this place, so the Yankees cannot advance by that route again this winter, and I am sure the Army of Virginia will do no more fighting this year. Some part of it is sure to be sent somewhere soon, and our corps might go to Tennessee after resting a few days, or it might possibly be sent to General Bragg.

The part of Virginia through which we have marched has been totally devastated. It is now nothing but one vast track of desolation, without a fence or a planted field of any kind. I do not understand how the people exist, yet they do actually continue to live there. They are intensely hostile to the Yankees, and there is certainly no submission in them. If the people at home, who know nothing of the war, but who are always critcising the bad management of our general, could see these lofty-minded Virginians, who have lost everything but their proud spirit, they surely would hush and try to do something for their country.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 80-2

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, October 28, 1863

Camp near Rappahannock River,

Culpeper County, Va.,

October 28, 1863.

There was a cavalry fight across the river yesterday, and I am told that we whipped them and took three hundred prisoners. We have been taking so many prisoners recently that we must be up with the Yankees again, or we may even have more of them in prison than they have of our men. We now have no prospect of a fight on a grand scale, and I suppose we shall go into winter quarters before much longer.

Old Jim Beauschelle, our chaplain, is out of prison and is back with us again. He was at Fort Delaware awhile, and was then sent to Johnson's Island in Lake Erie. He looks better than I ever saw him. He has a new hat, new shoes, and everything new, and looks like a new man. He speaks very highly of the Yankees and the way they treated him and of the good fare they gave him. He seems perfectly delighted with the North and the Yankees. I am sorry they did not handle him rather roughly and cure him of his wonderfully good opinion of them.

Your brother tells me you look better than you did before you were married. He says George is badly spoiled and that he will cry if you crook your finger at him. I am sorry to hear that he has been sick. In your letter you speak of his being pale and thin from teething.

I now feel quite sure that I shall be able to get home before much longer, but don't look for me until you see me walk in.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 82-3

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 27, 1864

Slightly hazy and sunshine.

Quiet, save aimless and bootless shelling and picket firing along the lines on the south side of the river.

Hon. Geo. Davis, Attorney-General, to whom was referred the question of the constitutionality of the purposed removal from office of clerks appointed to fill places specifically created by act of Congress previous to the enactment of the Conscript law, without there being alleged against them any misconduct, inefficiency, dishonesty, etc., has reported that as several subsequent acts of Congress already indicate an intention to put all capable of bearing arms in the army, it is the duty of the President and the Secretary of War to carry out the intentions of Congress, leaving the constitutional question to the decision of the courts! The Constitution they swore upon the holy, etc. to support! Thus, & refugee must either starve his wife and children by relinquishing office, or be disgraced by appealing to the courts!

It is reported that 30,000 of the enemy crossed to this side of the river last night, and that fighting has began at 10 A.M.; but I hear nothing save an occasional report of cannon.

It is said brisk skirmishing is now (12 m.) going on along the lines.

Gen. Cooper and Mr. Secretary Seddon wants Brig.-Gen. R. (Charleston) relieved, for insulting a lady in one of his fits of drunkenness. The President is reluctant to consent.

We have intelligence to-day of gun-boats and transports ascending the Rappahannock River. Another squall from that quarter!

Three P.M. The cannonading has grown quick and terrific along the lines, below the city (north side), with occasional discharges nearer, and farther to the left (north), as if the enemy were attempting to flank our army.

The sounds are very distinctly heard, the weather being damp and the wind from the southeast. We can distinguish the bursting of the shell quickly after the discharge of the cannon.

The firing ceased at dark. It rains hard and steadily, now. What a life! what suffering; in mud and water, without tents (in the trenches), burdened with wet blankets, and perhaps without food! To-morrow, in all probability, a battle will be fought.

Gen. Lee, for several weeks, as if aware of the impending operations in this vicinity, has been on this side of the river, superintending in person the fortifications multiplied everywhere for the defense of the city, while reinforcements have been pouring in by thousands. It must be a fearful struggle, if Gen. Grant really intends to make another effort to capture Richmond by assault! Our works, mostly made by the negroes, under the direction of skillful engineers, must be nearly impregnable, and the attempt to take them will involve a prodigious expenditure of blood.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 316-7