Diary of Private Ephraim Shelby Dodd, Saturday, April 18, 1863

Hermosa mañana. Nothing unusual occurred this morning. I passed most of my time reading; still gaining in strength.

SOURCE: Ephraim Shelby Dodd, Diary of Ephraim Shelby Dodd: Member of Company D Terry's Texas Rangers, p. 12

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan, Sunday, March 12, 1865

A. M. Inspection & Reading Articles of War to the company P. M. reading Fabiola, N. O. papers of 10th no news, this morning all the Gunboats lay in the cove. the firing was on some of the forts in the vicinity of Mobile. Service at 3 P. M. weather cool Genl Canby on the Pout this P. M. artillery practice today

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, Thirty-Third Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, Vol. XIII, No. 8, Third Series, Des Moines, April 1923, p. 577

Diary of Lucy Larcom, May 9, 1861

I had set myself to reading Maury's "Physical Geography of the Sea," after a long deferring; but now that he has come out as a rank rebel against his country, I cannot feel any interest in his theories, ingenious as they are said to be. Like poor, wise, fallen Bacon, his ideas may prove something to the world, "after some years have passed over," but one is not fond of being taught by traitors.

SOURCE: Daniel Dulany Addison, “Lucy Larcom: Life, Letters, and Diary,” p. 91

Diary of Private John C. West, Thursday, May 25, 1863

While we are encamped life is so monotonous that I do not usually regard it as necessary to keep a diary, but occasionally we have a little variety and spice which is exciting and pleasant. Yesterday we received notice early in the morning to prepare to march five miles to attend a review of our division which was to take place about a mile beyond General Hood's headquarters. We left our camp about 8 o'clock a. m. and reached the muster ground about 10 o'clock. We found the artillery posted on the extreme right about three-quarters of a mile from our regiment.

The brigades, Anderson's, Laws', Robertson's and Benning's, were drawn up in line of battle, being over a mile long; our regiment a little to the left of the center. As we were properly formed General Hood and staff galloped down the entire length of the line in front and back again in the rear, after which he took his position about 300 yards in front of the center. The whole division was then formed into companies, preceded by the artillery of about twenty pieces; passed in review before the General, occupying about an hour and a march of over two miles and a half for each company before reaching its original position. The spectacle was quite imposing and grand, and I wish Mary and the children could see such a sight. After passing in review we rested awhile and were then again placed in line of battle, and the artillery divided into two batteries, came out on opposite hills in front of us, where they practiced half an hour or more with blank cartridges. This was the most exciting scene of the day except the one which immediately followed, viz: We were ordered to fix bayonets and the whole line to charge with a yell, and sure enough I heard and joined in the regular Texas war whoop. This was the closing scene of the day, after which we marched back to camp. There was an immense crowd of citizens out on the occasion as spectators, reminding me very much of an old time South Carolina review.

On our return to camp Companies E and F were ordered on picket guard about a mile and a half from camp. We packed up everything and were soon off and are now encamped on the bank of the Rapidan at Raccoon Ford. Last night was quite cool but I slept comfortably after the tramp of yesterday.

To-day Companies E and F are variously employed. There is one squad fishing, another has made a drag of brush and are attempting to catch fish by the wholesale. Two or three other squads are intensely interested in games of poker; some are engaged on the edge of the water washing divers soiled garments as well as their equally soiled skins. I belonged to this latter class for a while, and have spent the remainder of the morning watching the varying success or failure of the fishermen and poker-players, and in reading a few chapters and Psalms in the Old Testament and the history of the crucifixion in the New. I forgot to say that on yesterday I met on the parade ground Captain Wade and Major Cunningham, of San Antonio, and also John Darby and Captain Barker. Darby is the chief surgeon of Hood's Division. I went up to a house to-day about half a mile from our picket camp and found a negro woman with some corn bread and butter milk. A friend who was with me gave her a dollar for her dinner, which we enjoyed very much. The woman was a kind-hearted creature and looked at me very sympathetically, remarking that I did not look like I was used to hard work, and that I was a very nice looking man to be a soldier, etc., etc.

Here are the chapters I have read to-day: Deut., 23:14; II Chron., 32:8; Jeremiah, 49:2; Revelation, 21:14.

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. 54-6

Diary of George Templeton Strong: February 18, 1860

Spent this evening diligently cutting the leaves of Darwin’s much discussed book on The Origin of Species and making acquaintance with its general scope and aim. It’s a laborious, intelligent, and weighty book. First obvious criticism on it seems this, that Darwin has got hold of a truth which he wants to make out to be the one generative law of organic life. Because he shews that the fauna and flora of a group of islands lying near a certain continent are so like those of that continent, though differing specifically therefrom, and so unlike those of other regions more remote, as to make it probable that they are the offspring of the continental species modified by the altered conditions of their new habitat, he considers himself entitled to affirm that all beasts, birds, and creeping things, from mammal to medusa, are developments from one stock, and that man is the descendant of some ancestral archaic fish, with swimming bladder improved into lungs, that flying fish have by successive minute steps of progress through countless ages become albatrosses, and flying squirrels bats. But I suspect that He who created and upholds this great marvelous system of various harmonious life is not obliged to conformity with any one Law of Creation and preservation that Darwin’s or any other finite intellect can discover.

Darwin asks rather large concessions. You must begin by giving him thousands of millions of millions of years (that Johnny Strong would be puzzled to read were they expressed in Arabic numerals) for the operation of his Law of Progress, and admit that the silence of the stratified record of those ages as to its operation and existence may be explained away; and then, the want of affirmative evidence to sustain his theory being accounted for, he can make out a plausible case for it by suggesting that “it may have been’’; “why should not’’; “we may suppose that,” and the like.

The period required for the production of the whole animal world from a single parent stock (and he holds that both the animal and vegetable races have one common primeval parent, a diatom, I suppose) by the working of his imaginary law of natural selection is even beyond the all but inconceivable procession of ages which he concedes that his theory calls for. Let us see. We have records of the condition of animal life in certain of its departments that go back to the earliest picture writing of Egypt and become more and more abundant and minute as they approach our own days. Those of the last two hundred years are copious and elaborate. During the last fifty, a mass of evidence has been collected that could hardly be read through in one lifetime. The superficial area covered by investigations thus recorded in our own day is immensely great; that is, 25,000 miles of European coast line alone, studied almost inch by inch, every zoological province of all the earth’s surface investigated (though, of course, not exhaustively) by inquisitive travelers and men of science. Practical men, stimulated by hope of profit in money, have been working hard and intelligently to modify existing breeds or species by changing all their original or natural relations to climate, food, and habit, and perpetuating as far as they could every improvement in the breed artificially or accidentally produced. But no symptom of the change of one species to another has been produced or has occurred within the historic period. There is not even a legend of the ancient identity of lion and eagle, no tradition of a period before horse and ass; geese and ducks were distinct animals. No development of new organs or new functions by any animal is anywhere recorded or traceable. Scientific breeders after centuries of vigilant work have produced various types of horse, sheep, pigeon, and so forth; but these several types lose their respective peculiarities, unless their purity be carefully maintained. (Note Darwin’s statement about the tendency of peculiarities of the rock pigeon, the original progenitor, to recur in the fancy breeds, pouter and tumbler and so forth.) The area covered by scientific research and by experiments in breeding for the last century is equivalent (in considering Darwin’s theory) to scores of thousands of years of recorded observation in a single district. But however this may be, man’s experience for, we will say, only four thousand years furnishes no instance of the development of new functions or new organs by any animal or vegetable organism.

SOURCE: Allan Nevins and Milton Halset Thomas, Editors, Diary of George Templeton Strong, Vol. 3, p. 10-11

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: Sunday Night, November 16, 1862

The day has been cold and blustery. We have spent it in reading tracts the chaplain gave out, writing letters and swapping yarns. I am new to it all, and the boys have shown me all over the Arago where they are allowed to go. Our sleeping quarters are between decks, and are very similar to those on Hudson camp ground. That is, long tiers of bunks, one above the other from the floor to the ceiling above, just high enough for a man to sit up in and not hit his head. They are wide enough for four, but a board through the middle separates each into berths for two men each. They are the whole length of the room, with just enough space to walk between them. Along the sides is a row through which are small round windows which can be opened, and which give the only light the room has. For ventilation, a huge bag hangs down from above deck which ends up in a big tin or iron funnel which is kept away from the wind and so is supposed to draw up the air from our bedroom when it becomes heated. Where fresh air comes from I have not yet found out, but suppose it drops down through several openings in the deck above. A swap was made with one who bunked with Walter Loucks so my crony and I could again be together. It is on the side, and has a window in it. Walt has kindly given me the light side so I can keep up my scribbling. What we are here for, or where we go from here, is not yet told us. In fact I don't know as it is yet determined.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 62

Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft, Thursday, February 6, 1862

No news yet. All quiet. Misty day, snow all gone, more mud. In the office as usual. Went down this evening and got the NY papers & Frank Leslie for the boys. Mailed some letters for wife & Julia. Have been reading all the evening. Have put some oyster shells into the coal stove, it is said they will clear the stove of clinkers, we will see.

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

Diary of Private John C. West, Sunday, April 19, 1863

I rested well last night but had the most hideous dreams all night; Mrs. Brownnigg came in early this morning and asked me into her room; I went and found the fire very comfortable; the doctor came to see me and seems to think I am all right now, but must be careful about my diet; says some good brandy is exactly what I need to recruit on; so I missed it by leaving mine at home. Major Holman called to see me this morning; says he will see my transportation fixed all right; offers relief from the loss of my pocketbook; the doctor does likewise; Mrs. Brownnigg offers me money also. I ate nice toast and drank genuine coffee for breakfast; had chicken soup for dinner; spent most of the day in reading one of Bulwer's novels, entitled, "A Strange Story"; have read fifty or sixty pages, but am not much interested yet. My intention now is to leave here so as to remain at Alexandria the shortest time possible. I learn to-day that Mr. A, my hotel landlord, is tired of soldiers, especially sick ones, and grumbles terribly when one gets out of money at his hotel. If this is true, he is not a true man. I would rather be under obligations to the devil.

Little Bettie Brownnigg is quite a nice girl. Hallie Bacon, several years younger, is in a fair way to be spoiled. There is a young lady, Miss Nora Gregg, staying with Mrs. Brownnigg; she seems to be a clever good girl and is finishing my sock, which wife expected Miss Nannie Norton, of Richmond, Va., to knit for me; she has knit thirty pairs of socks in the last two months; she has a most magnificent suit of soft brown hair.

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. 19-20

Diary of Private John C. West, Wednesday, April 22, 1863

Got up this morning feeling pretty well and concluded to leave to-morrow; went up town and mailed a letter to my wife; saw Dr. Johnson and got a certificate from him accounting for my delay, and a mixture of chalk and laudanum to take on the road; had a long talk with the doctor and Rev. Mr. Wilson about the Downs and Sparks, citizens of Waco; the doctor refused to charge me anything. I borrowed seventy-five dollars from Major Holman and gave him my note. Have been reading Bulwer's “Strange Story" a good deal to-day. Mrs. Weir came in this evening and talked very kindly to me; wants me to stay longer, but I must go; every man ought to go. Witnessed a cock fight in the streets a few minutes ago and rather enjoyed it; wonder how my chickens come on at home, and what my dear wife and dear little Stark and Mary are doing now. Mrs. Bacon has just brought me a pocketbook, and she and Mrs. Brownnigg and Mrs. Weir have offered me money. Miss Gregg has brought me a toddy and I must drink it. Oh! these women!

"The world was sad, the garden was a wild,

 And man, the hermit, sighed till woman smiled."

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. 22-3

Diary of Private John C. West, Thursday, April 23, 1863

Got up early this morning and read Bulwer's "Strange Story" until called to breakfast; after breakfast went to the cars and started to Shreveport; the track is laid for sixteen miles to Jonesville; we traveled over this at very good speed, jolting and swinging a good deal; at Jonesville we took a stage and dragged along for five miles very slowly, but after changing horses got on very well to Mrs. Eppe's, where we had the only nice meal I have found at any place on the road; reached Shreveport about 3:30 p. m.; stopped at the Veranda; went to the quartermaster and got transportation to Alexandria; went down to see the gunboat, Missouri, now being built. I do not understand technicalities well enough to describe her; she is about 120 feet long and the most solid, massive piece of work I ever saw, covered with railroad iron. I started out with Lieutenant Ochiltree to find a private boarding house; found one; don't know the name of the proprietress; charges two dollars per day; sent our baggage around; took a seat in front of quartermaster's office to look at the ladies passing, and other interesting sights; saw some really pretty ones and felt better for it; started home to supper and stopped to take a drink, saw a fight between a red-headed member of the Fourth Texas, from Navarro county, and a citizen of Shreveport; Fourth Texas was worsted and was carried off to the guard house; I went on to supper; after supper discovered a Baptist church on opposite side of the street lighted up; went over and found the minister and two men and four women holding prayer meeting; staid until the meeting closed and concluded that the Shreveport church was in a luke-warm condition; after church I stood in the street and heard a hopeful widow sing some very pretty songs; went back to my boarding house.

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. 23-4

Diary of Private John C. West, Monday, April 27, 1863

After the stage arrived on yesterday evening, I learned that it had come from only about fifty miles below and is not going to Alexandria any more, but is only going forty miles in that direction in order to bring up the stock, etc., on the line. The rumor is that the Federals are in possession of Alexandria; all the troops are retreating in this direction.

I have spent a very disagreeable day; it has been raining all day and kept me confined to the house; I am in a quandary; don't know what to do or where to go; am staying at a Frenchman's house at two dollars and a half per day; have no friend or acquaintance to consult and am utterly at a loss whether to go back to Shreveport or to make an effort to go forward; am afraid to try the latter plan for fear of getting out of money too far from home; think I shall start back to-morrow night.

Read Lycidas' "L'Allegro" and "Il Penseroso" to-day, and a few chapters in "Old Mortality;" one of the longest and most disagreeable days I ever spent in my life; O, for peace and a quiet day with my dear wife and little darlings.

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. 26-7

Diary of Private John C. West, Tuesday, April 28, 1863

Have spent another long and weary day and suffered all that is incident to a position of suspense and uncertainty; cannot tell what may await me yet, but thus far in the last three days have spent the most disagreeable period of my life. Read "Old Mortality" awhile this morning; walked up town; saw a good many drunken officers and a great deal of drinking; saw a game of billiards on a table without pockets; sixty points instead of one hundred make a game; came to my boarding house and read "Old Mortality" and tried to take a nap, but was too nervous to sleep. The stage from Mansfield has just arrived; I trust it will take a regular trip back and start early; anything to get out of this dead, still state of uncertainty; I would rather go into battle to-morrow than to remain in this position; it gives me too much time to think of home; there is no happiness in this. My French landlady mended my suspenders and made me a cup of coffee this afternoon; she seems to be a kind-hearted creature. We have just had a shower of rain and there is a most beautiful rainbow in the east.

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. 27-8

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Wednesday, June 1, 1864

Scalding heat during forenoon; heavy showers follow. Water is running through camp like a flood. Prisoners reported missing, rations suspended; Rebels are making a stir on the outside.

Finished "Paradise Lost"; called on Harriman. He supplied us with Pollock's "ourse of Time." We had read this, but it is now more acceptable. In our view it is a work of more natural thought and imbibes less of the unnatural. Milton has soulstirring passages, alive with truth, significant expression and beautiful simplicity. Then he goes deeply into themes beyond most conceptions; we don't wish to not, unless this is "Paradise Lost." Confederacy when he said:

follow him, or cannot, have Did he mean the Southern

"Devils with devils damned firm concord hold."

Did he mean the North when he wrote:

"Men only disagree of creatures rational,

Though under hope of heavenly grace"

how they should save the Union?

The following lines express a truth in human experience:

"God proclaiming peace,

Yet men live in hatred, enmity and strife

Among themselves, and levy cruel wars

Wasting the earth, each other to destroy,

As if man had not hellish foes enough besides,

That day and night for his destruction wait."

Milton seems to have designed to impress the thought that man had hellish foes distinct from his race, awaiting his destruction, which originated through rebellious war in heaven. I think the causes of our troubles lie in our lack of knowledge and misconception of our social relations, wicked ambition, foolish pride, and that these lines better fit an earthly than a heavenly realm.

The usual monotony except an unusual amount of firing by sentry. Prisoners arrive daily from both our great armies. Men crowd near them to get news and hardtack; occasionally old friends meet. About half the camp draw raw meal; we are of that half this week; have the trouble of cooking it without salt or seasoning or wood, half the time. We stir it in water, bake it on plates held over a splinter fire with a stiff stick, or boil it into mush or dumplings, baking or boiling as long as fuel lasts.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 70-1

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Monday, June 6, 1864

The impression is growing that the situation is more and more unfavorable every day. Hospitals are overflowing with sick and no more admittance, though crowds throng at the gate daily; deaths are rapidly increasing. The numbers laying about, helpless and speechless, are growing daily. Thompson reported a particular case to the gate, asking help, and got the answer: "You Yanks help yourselves." Sergeants of detachments have reported so many cases of insane, helpless and entirely naked men, and got no satisfaction, that they ceased to do so.

A much worn Atlantic Monthly of 1861, fell into my hands which I read with interest; "Concerning Veal," by the author of "Recreations of a Country Parson," and "Nat Turner, the Slave Insurrectionist of 1831," who aroused all Virginia to defend slavery. I noticed today a man with the whole lower part of his body buried in dirt as a remedy for scurvy.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 72-3

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson: Thursday, November 13, 1862

I wrote off Gough's Apostrophe to Water. Small snow. John R. Goodenough, Carr and Harrison in my office telling fortunes.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 8

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson: Friday, November 14, 1862

I dug up an Indian back of quarters and wheeled the body down to the river. I read John B. Gough's Apostrophe to Water before the crowd. S. V. Carr crossed Red river on the ice.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 8

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty: July 10, 1861

From the best information obtainable, we are led to believe the mountains and hills lying between this place and Beverly are strongly fortified and full of men. We can see a part of the enemy's fortifications very plainly from a hill west of camp. Our regiment was ordered to be in readiness to march, and was under arms two hours. During this time the Dutch regiment (McCook's), the Fourth Ohio, four pieces of artillery, one company of cavalry, with General McClellan, marched to the front, the Dutchmen in advance. They proceeded, say a mile, when they overhauled the enemy's pickets, and in the little skirmish which ensued one man of McCook's regiment was shot, and two of the enemy captured. By these prisoners it is affirmed that eight or nine thousand men are in the hills before us, well armed, with heavy artillery planted so as to command the road for miles. How true this is we can not tell. Enough, however, has been learned to satisfy McClellan that it is not advisable to attack today. What surprises me is that the General should know so little about the character of the country, the number of the enemy, and the extent of his fortifications.

During the day, Colonel Marrow, apparently under a high state of excitement, informed me that he had just had an interview with George (he usually speaks of General McClellan in this familiar way), that an attack was to be made, and the Third was to lead the column. He desired me, therefore, to get out my horse at once, take four men with me, and search the woods in our front for a practicable road to the enemy. I asked if General McClellan had given him any information that would aid me in this enterprise, such as the position of the rebels, the location of their outposts, their distance from us, and the character of the country between our camp and theirs. He replied that George had not. It occurred to me that four men were rather too few, if the work contemplated was a reconnoissance, and rather too many if the service required was simply that for which spies are usually employed. I therefore spoke distrustingly of the proposed expedition, and questioned the propriety of sending so small a force, so utterly without information, upon so hazardous an enterprise, and apparently so foolish a one. My language gave offense, and when I finally inquired what four men I should take, the Colonel told me, rather abruptly, to take whom I pleased, and look where I pleased. His manner, rather than his words, indicated a doubt of my courage, and I turned from him, mounted my horse, and started for the front, determined to obey the order to the best of my ability, but to risk the lives of no others on what was evidently a fool's errand. After proceeding some distance, I found that the wagon-master was at my heels, and, together, we traced every cowpath and mountain road we could find, and passed half a mile beyond the enemy's outposts, and over ground visited by his scouts almost hourly. When I returned to make my report, I was curtly informed that no report was desired, as the plan had been changed.

A little after midnight the Colonel returned from head-quarters with important information, which he desired to communicate to the regiment. The men were, therefore, ordered to turn out, and came hesitatingly and sleepily from their tents. They looked like shadows as they gathered in the darkness about their chieftain. It was the hour when graveyards are supposed to yawn, and the sheeted dead to walk abroad. The gallant Colonel, with a voice in perfect accord with the solemnity of the hour, and the funereal character of the scene, addressed us, in substance, as follows:

"Soldiers of the Third: The assault on the enemy's works will be made in the early morning. The Third will lead the column. The secessionists have ten thousand men and forty rifled cannon. They are strongly fortified. They have more men and more cannon than we have. They will cut us to pieces. Marching to attack such an enemy, so intrenched and so armed, is marching to a butcher-shop rather than to a battle. There is bloody work ahead. Many of you, boys, will go out who will never come back again."

As this speech progressed my hair began to stiffen at the roots, and a chilly sensation like that which might ensue from the unexpected and clammy touch of the dead, ran through me. It was hard to die so young and so far from home. Theological questions which before had attracted little or no attention, now came uppermost in our minds. We thought of mothers, wives, sweethearts—of opportunities lost, and of good advice disregarded. Some soldiers kicked together the expiring fragments of a campfire, and the little blaze which sprang up revealed scores of pallid faces. In short, we all wanted to go home.

When a boy I had read Plutarch, and knew something of the great warriors of the old time; but I could not, for the life of me, recall an instance wherein they had made such an address to their soldiers on the eve of battle. It was their habit, at such a time, to speak encouragingly and hopefully. With all due respect, therefore, for the superior rank and wisdom of the Colonel, I plucked him by the sleeve, took him one side, and modestly suggested that his speech had had rather a depressing effect on the regiment, and had taken that spirit out of the boys so necessary to enable them to do well in battle. I urged him to correct the mistake, and speak to them hopefully. He replied that what he had said was true, and they should know the truth.

The morning dawned; but instead of being called upon to lead the column, we were left to the inglorious duty of guarding the camp, while other regiments moved forward toward the enemy's line. In half an hour, in all probability, the work of destruction will commence. I began this memoranda on the evening of the 10th, and now close it on the morning of the 11th.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 20-24

Diary of Malvina S. Waring, February 9, 1865

Finished Les Miserables, Victor Hugo's grand work. What munificence of power! What eloquence! What strength! How sublime even its absurdities! A waggish acquaintance of mine calls it Lee's miserables. I must write a little note to James Wood Davidson and thank him for this treat. He is ever kind to think of me when it comes to a literary tid-bit.

SOURCE: South Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate Girl's Diary,” p. 273

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, January 11, 1863

To-day we have another beautiful Sabbath. The boys are engaged in cleaning up guns for inspection, and as we are not in the immediate vicinity of the enemy, and have no hope of marching orders, we may expect a day of comparative idleness, which is more to be dreaded than any hardship that could be imposed, as it disposes the men to immoral practices to kill time. In two hours at least half of us will be playing cards, while a few, true to the principles of religion instilled into their hearts in times past, will be reading their Bibles, or engaged in other devotional exercises. The news of the defeat of our army in Tennessee [Murfreesboro] has created quite an excitement in our camp, as nearly all of the soldiers here are from that State. We are impatient for orders to go to the defense of our own homes, and some of the men say they will go whether they get orders or not. As yet, however, good order and discipline have prevailed, and I believe will to the end.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 19

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, January 30, 1864

Camp near Orange Court House, Va.,

January 30, 1864.

The weather has been fine recently and there have been some indications of a move. Yesterday we were ordered to cook one day's rations and be ready to march, but it has turned very cold to-day and everything is quiet again.

About ten days ago I succeeded in buying some turnips and cabbage, and I found them most delightful for a change until our box from home arrived. Everything in it was in excellent condition except the sweet potatoes. It contained ten gallons of kraut, ten of molasses, forty pounds of flour, twelve of butter, one-half bushel of Irish potatoes, one-half peck of onions, about one peck of sausage, one ham, one side of bacon and some cabbage. I am expecting Edwin to visit me to-morrow and I shall offer him part of the kraut and some of the molasses, but he is so independent I am afraid he will not accept it.

I saw Colonel Hunt's wife yesterday, and she is the first lady with whom I have conversed since my return in December. He pays ten dollars a day board for himself and wife at a house near our camp.

Dr. Tyler has had his furlough extended twenty days by the Secretary of War, and will not return before February. I have been alone for over four weeks. I have had such a quiet time that I have been reading Shakespeare some recently. I received a letter from Robert Land's wife begging me to give her husband a sick furlough, and I told him to write her that if he could ever get sick again he certainly should go at once.

The postmaster is here and I must close.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 88-9