Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, October 10, 1861

Mr. Strong, the chaplain, has a prayer meeting in the adjoining tent. His prayers and exhortations fill me with an almost irresistible inclination to close my eyes and shut out the vanities, cares, and vexations of the world. Parson Strong is dull, but he is very industrious, and on secular days devotes his physical and mental powers to the work of tanning three sheepskins and a calf's hide. On every fair day he has the skins strung on a pole before his tent to get the sun. He combs the wool to get it clean, and takes especial delight in rubbing the hides to make them soft and pliable. I told the parson the other day that I could not have the utmost confidence in a shepherd who took so much pleasure in tanning hides.

While Parson Strong and a devoted few are singing the songs of Zion, the boys are having cotillion parties in other parts of the camp. On the parade ground of one company Willis is officiating as — musician, and the gentlemen go through "honors to partners" and "circle all" with apparently as much pleasure as if their partners had pink cheeks, white slippers, and dresses looped up with rosettes.

There comes from the Chaplain's tent a sweet and solemn refrain:

Perhaps He will admit my plea,

Perhaps will hear my prayer;

But if I perish I will pray,

And perish only there.

I can but perish if I go.

I am resolved to try,

For if I stay away I know

I must forever die.

While these old hymns are sounding in our ears, we are almost tempted to go, even if we do perish. Surely nothing has such power to make us forget earth and its round of troubles as these sweet old church songs, familiar from earliest childhood, and wrought into the most tender memories, until we come to regard them as a sort of sacred stream, on which some day our souls will float away happily to the better country.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, pp. 79-81

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, October 13, 1861

It is after tattoo. Parson Strong's prayer meeting has been dismissed an hour, and the camp is as quiet as if deserted. The day has been a duplicate of yesterday, cold and windy. To-night the moon is sailing through a wilderness of clouds, now breaking out and throwing a mellow light over valley and mountain, then plunging into obscurity, and leaving all in thick darkness.

Major Keifer, Adjutant Mitchell, and Private Jerroloaman have been stretching their legs before my fireplace all the evening. The Adjutant being hopelessly in love, naturally enough gave the conversation a sentimental turn, and our thoughts have been wandering among the rosy years when our hearts throbbed under the gleam of one bright particular star (I mean one each), and our souls alternated between hope and fear, happiness and despair. Three of us, however, have some experience in wedded life, and the gallant Adjutant is reasonably confident that he will obtain further knowledge on the subject if this cruel war ever comes to an end and his sweetheart survives.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, pp. 81-2

Diary of 5th Sergeant Lawrence Van Alstyne: December 21, 1862

Inspection of arms to-day and a sermon by the chaplain. We are thinking and talking of the letters we will get when we have a mail. Uncle Sam keeps track of us someway and sooner or later finds us. We have a regimental postmaster, who is expected every day from the city with a bag full. We have enough to fill him up on his return trip. The Arago is unloading all our belongings, which looks as if we were to stay here. Good-bye, Arago! I wish there was a kettle big enough to boil you and your bugs in before you take on another load. So many are sick the well ones are worked the harder for it. I still rank amoung the well ones and am busy at something all the time. Just now I have been put in place of fifth sergenat, who among other duties sees that the company has its fair share of rations, and anything else that is going. I also attend sick call every morning, which amounts to this. The sick call sounds and the sick of Company B fall in line and I march them to the doctor's office, where they are examined. Some get a dose of whiskey and quinine, some are ordered to the hospital and some are told to report for duty again. Dr. Andrus and I play checkers every chance we get. We neither play a scientific game, but are well matched and make some games last a long time. He is helping my throat and my cough is not so bad lately. Our quarters were turned into a smoke house to-day. An old stove without a pipe is going and some stinking stuff is burning that nothing short of a grayback can stand. It is expected to help our condition, and there is lots of chance for it.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, pp. 75-6

Diary of 5th Sergeant Lawrence Van Alstyne: December 25, 1862

Nothing much out of the ordinary has happened since I wrote last. A man went out hunting and got lost in the tall weeds. He shouted until some others found him and then had great stories to tell of narrow escapes, etc. Harrison Leroy died this morning. He was half sick all the way here and did not rally after coming ashore. Dr. Andrus poked a swab down my throat with something on it that burned and strangled me terribly. But I am much the better for it. We have all been vaccinated, and there is a marked improvement in the condition of those not in the hospital. The chaplain preached a sermon and Colonel Cowles made a speech. He thanked us for being such good soldiers under what he called the most trying circumstances war can bring. Loads of soldiers go up the river nearly every day. As the doctor allows them to pass the quarantine, I take it they are not in the fix we are.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 76

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

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

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

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

Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft, Sunday, March 23, 1862

No War news public today. It has been rather pleasant and no rain. Our next door neighbor Comodore Smith had his house robed last night. The Thief went all over the house gathering up watches, money, spoons, &c, without alarming the inmates. He unlocked the back door with Burglers nippers. The Comodore seems to be in bad luck. He recently lost his son, Lieut Jos. B Smith, on the Congress in her fight with the rebel Iron Clad Steamer “Merrimac.” I have not been to church today, wife & the rest of the family went. Took a walk with the boys before dark, saw the Battalion of Cavalry which brot the Body of Co^l Slocum of the RI 2^nd who was killed at Bull Run in July. The Reg^t is now near the City and the body was just recovered and brought over to the Reg'^t. The Cavalry came over as an Escort and were on their return when we saw them.

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

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, January 5, 1862

Sunday morning Still cloudy & cool Inspection of Barracks at 9 O'clock, Call for church at 11 am where the men are permitted to go to which church they please Lieut. Allen Officer of the Guard. No Dress Parade this evening but Roll Call or Co. Report

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 233

Diary of Lucy Larcom, May 6, 1861

Through the dark and lurid atmosphere of war the light of "Nature's own exceeding peace" still softly falls on the earth. The violets have opened their blue eyes by the roadside; the saxifrage fringes the ledges with white; and the arbutus, the Pilgrim's mayflower, blossoms on the hills away from here; we have no hillsides for it to grow upon, but I had some on May-day, from the hills of Taunton. How strange the contrast between these delicate blossoms and the flaring red flower of war that has burst into bloom with the opening of spring!

Every day brings something to stir the deep places of the soul, and in the general awakening of life and liberty it may be that every heart feels its own peculiar sorrow and happiness more keenly. There is a deeper life in every breath I draw; and messages from distant friends seem more near and touching. One day, from one of the most beloved and honored, comes a kind word for my poor efforts at poetry; almost a prophecy of some blessed days of summer life among the mountains by and by, — and a holy benediction, "God bless thee, and keep thee!" that fell upon my heart like the first ray of some new and unknown morning. All life seemed green and glowing with a freshened trust.—God is, and goodness is; and true hearts are, forever! There is nothing to doubt, even in these dark days!

Then, the next day, a message from dear Esther (she could not write it herself) to say that she is dying, and wants to hear from me again. And to think that she had been drooping all these spring days, while I have been too full of occupation with the stir of the times to write! But she says my words have always been good for her, and surely few have blessed me by life and thought as she has. Heaven will have one bond for my heart, closer than any yet. I am glad that she can lie down in peace, before the horrible scenes of bloodshed, which only a miracle can now avert, shall be enacted.

SOURCE: Daniel Dulany Addison, “Lucy Larcom: Life, Letters, and Diary,” pp. 90-1

Diary of Lucy Larcom, May 15, 1861

A glimpse into a heart which has always been closed, both to God and man, — what a chaos it discloses! Yet with all the elements of order there, it is like the promise of a new creation. Such a glimpse, such a half-unveiling, one has given me to-day, out of a soul-deep, long-repressed longing for "something to love!" Ah, that sorrowful need of every woman's heart, especially; yet more joyful than sorrowful, because the longing shows the fulfillment possible, — yes, certain. In the heavenly life, which such aspirations prophesy, there is love abounding, to give and to receive. And I am thankful for one more to love.

SOURCE: Daniel Dulany Addison, “Lucy Larcom: Life, Letters, and Diary,” pp. 91-2

Diary of Lucy Larcom, May 27, 1861

This is the gala week of spring. None of the early flowers have quite faded, and the apple trees are in full bloom, while elms and maples are just wearing their lightest drapery of green, so tardily put on. Soft breezes, sweet melody from many birds, clear sunshine, not yet too warm, all things are just in that state, when, if we could wish for a standstill in nature, we should.

And Esther has been one week in heaven! It seems to me, sometimes, as if some new charm was added to cloud and sunshine, and spring blossoms, since she went away; as if it were given me to see all things clearer for her clearer vision; she would speak to me, if she could.

Lectures these few days on historical women. Paula, Queen Elizabeth, and Madame de Maintenon, thus far. Paula, the friend of St. Jerome, and the woman whom the speaker made to illustrate friendship, pleased me most, as presenting a higher ideal than either of the others. Christianity gave woman the privilege of a pure friendship with man; before unknown, we are told. It is one of the noblest gifts of religion, and I wish people believed in it more thoroughly. But only a truly elevated and chastened nature can understand real friendship, not a Platonic ideal only, though that is elevated, let who will sneer at it: but a drawing of the noblest souls together, and to the Soul of souls, for the highest ends. This is Christian friendship; union in Christ for all beauty, all purity, all true and noble life, which He illustrated in His own glorious life and death, and of which He is now the inspiring power. "We are complete in Him."

Yes, I am sure that it is in drawing near to Him that I feel the loveliness of such beauty as that into which the world now blossoms; for is not He the Lord of nature, and also my Lord and Friend? And through His great love for us, I see the ideal of all true human love. "As I have loved you," He said, "so must we love each other, with tenderness, forbearance, generosity, and self-sacrifice."

Such friendship is possible, is eternal; and it is almost the most precious thing in the soul's inheritance.

SOURCE: Daniel Dulany Addison, “Lucy Larcom: Life, Letters, and Diary,” pp. 93-4

Diary of Elvira J. Powers: Sunday Evening, April 10, 1864

Attended church to-day at the Second Presbyterian, or "Union Church" as it is called. It is the only one in the city, I am told, where one is sure of hearing sentiments of loyalty. Rev. Mr. Allen is pastor. He does not fear now, under the shadow of Fort Negley, and with so many "blue coats" about, to "Lift up his voice like a trumpet, and show the people their transgressions and the house of Jacob their sins." I believe, however, that he was obliged to leave the place previous to the entrance of our troops.

I saw a pomegranate flower for the first time, to-day. It is of a dark red color, single, about the size of a plum blossom. It is of the same family I think, though cannot analyze it, for want of a botanical work.

In passing through ward 1 of the hospital last Wednesday, and asking advice of the chief nurse—who, by the by, is soon to complete his studies as surgeon—as to what we could do for the benefit of the invalids, he said there were two cases who would die unless some one could by attention and cheerful conversation save them. That they had been sick a long time, were very low, but the trouble now was nervous debility from homesickness and despair of life. Had himself done what he could for them, but was worn out with care of the ward and loss of sleep. And he added:

"The Surgeon has given them up, and I will give them into your charge, and if they live it will be your care which saves them."

"Would anything be injurious for them to eat?"

"No, if you can get them to eat anything you will do better than I can."

Upon inquiring which they were, he pointed them out, when I told him that I had spoken to both only a few moments before, and that one would scarcely notice me enough to tell me his disease, while the other would not answer at all, but drew the sheet over his face.

"Oh, yes," he replied, "they think no one cares for them, that they're going to die, and the worst one is in a half stupor much of the time. But pass your hand gently over his forehead to arouse him, and then you know how to interest him."

He then directed the nurse of this one to go with me and see that everything was done which I directed. The nurse and patient were both from Indiana, and the former going to the side of the bed toward which the face of the sick man was turned, said in a peculiarly pleasant and sympathizing tone:

"William, there's a lady come to see you and she wants to make you well if she can."

Passing my hand over his forehead, as directed, I added as cheerily as possible :

"Yes, William, I've come to see if I can't do something for you; if I shall write some letters for you, or bring you something to eat to make you better."

He roused up and I knew he was listening, but not wishing to excite him too much I then commenced asking of the nurse about his company and regiment, and the length of time he had been sick in that hospital. But I had scarcely done so, when the sick man turned his face down into the pillow, burst into tears and grieved and sobbed like a child, fairly shaking the bed with the violence of his emotion. The nurse bent down to him, and said as if pacifying a sick child:

"Don't fret so, William, this lady loves you, and she's going to try to make you well."

I knew the tears would do him good, but I spoke low and slowly, and the sobs grew less as he listened:

"You've been sick a long time, I know, and have grown discouraged and have thought you were never going to get well, but the Doctor says there is nothing to hinder if you will only try. I was once sick myself with a low nervous fever, and felt just as you do for a long time. And the physician told me at last that I wouldn't live unless I made up my mind to try to live. And I did try and worked hard for it for a long time else I should never have got well. And now if you will do the same and think all the time of what you are going to do when you get well, I will come and see you as often as I can, and bring you anything you wish to eat. Wouldn't you like to have me write for you to ask your wife, mother, or sister, to come and take care of you?

Just then the nurse tells me he is "single" and I repeat the question of his mother and sisters.

"No," he replied, in a sad, grieved, hollow voice, "they wouldn't come."

"Shouldn't I write to his father to tell him how he was." "No," he didn't "want any letters written."

"Could he think of something he could eat."

He said he could not, but the nurse exclaimed:—"Why, William, don't you remember you said the other day you could eat some pickles, if you could get them?" "Yes, I could eat some pickles," said the slow, hollow voice. A little inquiry found that it was possible he could eat a cookie also, so it was arranged that the nurse should call at the home of the Christian Commission, where I was stopping, for the articles.

I also learned that the sick man had not been bathed since having the fever, and his face looked like dried parchment. I made a prescription of castile soap and warm water for his benefit, to be applied to the whole surface of his body—the application to take place immediately after my departure. After the bath, the nurse called and I sent some cookies and a small jar of pickles.

The other patient to whom I was referred, was scarcely less interesting, but have not time to note the particulars. I visited them again yesterday, and found my directions with regard to each had been carried out, and both were better and glad this time to see me. William rejoiced in the jar of pickles upon his stand, out of which he had gained sufficient appetite to "reckon," he "could eat a few dried peaches, if he could get them." A small jar of those was prepared and sent to him, with a second edition of cookies.

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, pp. 23-6

Diary of Private John C. West, May 16, 1863

COLUMBIA, SOUTH CAROLINA.

The date of May 13th was written at the depot in Augusta, Georgia, and brings me to my arrival at that place. I had intended passing on without delay, but heard from a stranger on the cars that Lieutenant Selman and my other Texas friends were at Montgomery and would be in Augusta on the next train. This determined me to spend a day in Augusta, to let them overtake me. I had my baggage carried to the Augusta Hotel, and after making myself presentable, called at Mr. Carter's drug store and found that he had gone to Charleston to purchase a new supply of drugs. I met at the drug store Mr. Rogers, a brother of Mrs. Hardin, and who looks very much like her; spent an hour inquiring for Mr. Robert Lamar, my wife's uncle, then walked around to Dr. Ford's; found Miss Sallie May and Mrs. Clinch sitting in the passage; they did not recognize me and asked me to walk into the parlor. I found Dr. Ford and a patient in consultation. He seemed delighted to see me. I went into the breakfast table, and when the ladies found me out I was plied with questions about my wife and the children, and must say here, once for all—"nunc pro tunc"¹ that I have spent the last three days in a like agreeable task. My sweet wife seems to be beloved by every one who knows her. I stayed but a short time and learned that Mr. Clinch was mayor at Vicksburg and DeSaussure Ford was with Bragg's army. I went to Mr. Barney Dunbar's office and had a long talk with him; went out to Mr. Robert Lamar's and there found that grandma and Aunt Mary were absent. When I arrived at Columbia and Augusta depot, met Lieutenant Selman, Mullens and Burwell Aycock, who had left me sick at Marshall, Texas.

Aycock went to Chattanooga on account of old wounds still troubling him. After the trials and difficulties of our trip and our unpleasant separation, our meeting was a joyful occasion. They went on to Weldon and I came on to Columbia, not, however, without a serious loss—my blankets were stolen out of the cars at Branchville.

I reached Columbia at 6 o'clock a. m., and went up to Major Stark's without giving any notice. Decca Stark was just about to start to Fairfield. She exclaimed, "I do believe it is Mr. West," and then both looked blank until I smiled. They thought that Mary and the children must be dead, but matters were soon explained. I took breakfast with the family, and after spending the morning in giving a full account of myself and Mary, went up town; met John McDowell, from Camden; he is captain of a mounted rifle company from Montgomery, Alabama.

After dinner I walked out to Stark's Hill to see aunties; found them all looking well, especially Aunt Mac. The garden was looking beautiful; indeed, old Columbia altogether is the handsomest place I ever saw, and I think if my Mary was with me now I would be perfectly happy. Every one here has received me so joyfully; both Mary's friends and my own have met me so cordially that I cannot be otherwise than happy, and mother and Decca have done, and seem willing to do, so much for my comfort that I feel willing to make any sacrifice for wife to share these attentions with me. Mary is more entitled to all this pleasure than I am; but fortune dispenses favors in an inexplicable manner. I trust my wife may be here before I return to Texas. She shall not be tied down in the creek bottom forever.

On the second day I walked out to Aunt Carrie Stark's, in company with Decca. She did not know who had called and primped up as if she expected to meet a stranger. She was delighted to see me and seemed very cheerful; introduced us to Mrs. Raoul and Mrs. Hamilton. After I started out she came into the portico with me and her manner was entirely changed; she spoke of her afflictions and seemed very sad. God has dealt very severely with her, and I pray to be delivered from such visitations, unless it be for my good, which I cannot believe. Heaven will not try me thus. We came on to Mrs. Elmore's and saw Mrs. Elmore, Miss Cornelia and Miss Grace; Mrs. Elmore and Miss Cornelia look five years younger than they did five years ago. We came on to the city and went to the deguerrean gallery to have a copy made of Mary's picture. Decca Stark is with me in all these visits, and seems willing to do anything for my enjoyment.

On the third day of my stay I spent the morning at home with Decca and mother. In the afternoon Decca and I walked to Sydney park and over it; saw not a soul whom we recognized. The park is wonderfully improved, and shows what energy and taste can do in a little while. There is some encouragement and satisfaction to exercise taste and energy in a country where it rains; there is none in Texas.

We called at Dr. William Reynolds' on the way home. They are living now at the old Muller place, and have improved it vastly. Misses Jane and Sophia Reynolds have a very large school, and Mrs. Reynolds superintends the housekeeping and the comfort of the boarders, of whom they have a large number. Miss Jane was sick, but Mrs. Reynolds and Miss Sophia and Miss Sophy Niel received me very joyfully. I met here two of old Dr. DeLeon's daughters from Columbia. All parties were anxious to hear of my Aunt Catherine Eccles and of the other children. Part of the improvement consists in the removal of the exclusive-looking, tall plank fence, which is replaced by an iron railing. The flower garden is tastily arranged and there is generally an inviting air about the entire premises. A graduate will not look back upon the place as an escaped convict views and remembers the penitentiary.

The fourth day of my stay in Columbia was Sunday. I attended the Baptist church in the morning and in the evening and the Episcopal in the afternoon. The Baptist meeting house is quite handsomely finished and does credit to the taste of the denomination here. There is also in it a magnificent organ, said to be the finest in the city. Its tones are grand and full, and it certainly adds greatly to the beauty and solemnity of the worship and services. The building will seat comfortably over two thousand persons.

On Monday, the fifth day, I took breakfast with Major Stark, at 6 o'clock in the morning, and walked with him out to the farm and over it. A place with such water privileges would be invaluable in Texas. Vegetables of every description could be had all the year round. I looked at the overseer's house and the well so close, the garden and the chicken yard, and thought how happy and blest Mary would be if she were there. Ought we to return to South Carolina? Oh, for light and direction on this subject! Have I the right to debar a pure, good woman from all the endearments and joys of home, because she loves me and is ready and willing to make any sacrifice for me? I returned home by Stark's Hill and took breakfast with aunties, and had a pleasant visit. Aunt Mary gave me a very nice blanket with which to replace my lost one. I came by Mrs. Singleton's and stayed an hour; made the acquaintance of Captain Haskell, who seems to be a very gentlemanly and sensible person; think I would like him very much on further acquaintance.

Came home and walked up town with Major Stark to see about having my transportation changed so as to permit me to go to Charlotte instead of going back to Kingsville. Mr. J. Pringle Smith seemed very willing to accommodate me, but exhibited a very laudable disposition to avoid any violation of duty or law. He finally required me to pay my own way for fifty miles on the road, this being the difference between the distances from Kingsville to Weldon and from Columbia to Weldon.

In returning to Major Stark's I met Mr. Lem Boykin, son of Mr. Burwell Boykin. He is captain of a company on the coast, and is as wild and "harum scarum" as ever. After dinner I received a visit from Mr. Breaker, the Baptist minister, and his wife. He is a sensible man and she is a pretty woman. Of course such company is always pleasant.

I walked with Decca to the daguerrean gallery; got the copy of my Mary's picture; am only tolerably pleased with it, but doubt not it will console me in some degree in the long, weary hours I must be away from her. Perhaps I may never see her again until she is a radiant angel in the skies; and I trust in God that whatever other punishment or destiny may await me for my short-comings in this life, that I may not be shut out from the light of my Mary's face forever. To me there will be but one other countenance in heaven to compare with it and divide my worship—my mother's!

From the window of the daguerrean gallery we witnessed the parade of the Arsenal cadets. They presented an unusually fine appearance and will doubtless do good service in this war during the next five years.

We made a call at Mr. De Saussure's, but did not find Mrs. Wallace and Mrs. Burroughs at home. Mr. William DeSaussure is the only person except myself who has not forgiven me for leaving Mary in Texas. We called at Mr. Shand's on the way home, but Mrs. Wilson was out. We returned after tea and had a pleasant visit of an hour.

I forgot to say that Decca went with me to see old Mrs. Murphy after service on Sunday afternoon. The old lady was in bed, severely stricken with the palsy, but seemed animated and bright on my entrance, and talked of Mary and the pleasant times she had with her "in this very room." She seemed very much distressed to know that her grandson and only heir was an orphan in the hands of his mother's people, the Catholics.

Thus I have brought this hurried journal down to Tuesday morning, May the 19th, at which time I am sitting in the parlor alone, and have been for an hour, waiting for mother and Decca to get up for breakfast. I have very few general comments to make on my visit; suffice it to say, that I am agreeably surprised to find that the degree of pleasure I have enjoyed in this short visit has exceeded ten-fold my anticipations. I did not think that I would receive such a hearty welcome and so much kindness. I owe it all to Mary and have regretted and still regret that I did not make the effort to bring her with me notwithstanding the difficulties and uncertainties of the route. I received the following memoranda today, to-wit: Miss Nannie Norton, corner of Eighth and Marshall Streets, Richmond, Va.; T. Lamar Stark, Edgefield Hussars, Captain Clark, Second Regiment S. C. V. Cavalry, Colonel Butler; Hampton's Brigade, Va.

_______________

¹ Latin: now for then.

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. 39-47

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 Private John C. West, Sunday, May 31, 1863

This morning about daylight we received orders to be ready to march at 8:30. All is bustle now getting ready. I have been to the spring for water and have just returned; have read the 52nd chapter of Isaiah, and 35th Psalm; am now about to pack up.

Sunday evening at sunset.—We have marched about fourteen miles to-day—a hot dusty march. Nothing of interest occurred. We are now bivouacked in a pine grove twenty miles from Fredericksburg, with our arms stacked with orders to be ready to leave at a moment's notice. The march has not fatigued me anything like as much as many hunts I have taken at home. Some friend of the soldiers has been kind enough to send us a number of religious papers, and I am now enjoying the "Christian Observer," published at Richmond.

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. 56-7

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones: Saturday, November 15, 1862

Davis Mills. Heard from home. Received two letters, from John and Thomas, which eased my anxiety. Listened to the first sermon [in camp].

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 12

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, November 13, 1861

The Regiment received two months' pay to-day, and to-night are all busy as bees making up express packages, to be sent to fathers, mothers, sisters, sweethearts and wives. To-morrow, all who can get passes to go, will be in Washington buying presents and sitting before a camera to "stain the glass" with reflections from their faces, all to be sent to friends at home. As man, in the mass, can be, in no condition, however bright, which will exempt him from cares, fears and apprehensions, so there is none so dark as to exclude hopes and anticipations of better things. Even here we have our joys and our aspirations, and these are of them. We preach that man should study to be contented. What! man in his imperfect condition, contented, that he, as an individual, or as a part of a great whole, should remain forever, as he is! It is opposed to all God's plans. Discontent is the only stairway to progress. Through the discontent of Israel, Egyptian bondage was broken. The discontent of Russia brought war, which more than compensated for its ravages and its horrors, by the introduction of her people to a knowledge of liberal ideas. Czarism was shaken, and already the Goddess of Liberty waves her cap over the downfall of serfdom. The seceder's discontent in England was the Genesis of a mighty nation. Elijah cast off the cloak, too small for his growing aspirations, whilst his followers eagerly grasped its folds to aid their progression. The discontent of an Almighty God substituted Noah for Adam—Christ for Diana—Eternity for Time. And is the discontent which occasioned this great war, with all its horrors, its butcheries, its temporary demoralization, to have no great result? Is it a bare interlude of the parties engaged, taking advantage of the time when "God sleepeth;" or is it a spark emitted from the great restless spirit of Jehovah, destined to ignite into a "pillar of fire," and to light us on in the journey of universal progress?"

"Hope springs eternal—"

I have to-day seen a "speck of war," with another touch of Vandalism. I have, for the first time, seen an army in drill. Fifteen to twenty thousand men, a thousand horses, and one hundred artillery wagons, on parade. To me, who had never seen anything of the kind, it was grand, and looked like war. I note here an extract of a letter written to a friend to-day, attempting a description of part of it: "It was, indeed, a magnificent sight, to see six hundred horses harnessed to a hundred wagons, in full run, in line, like a regiment of infantry, and at a word of command, to become so instantly and inconcievably mixed that you would think a universal smash inevitable, appear in another instant dashing across the vast plain without a wagon attached. Turn your eyes to see the wrecks, and you will be surprised to see the carriages in four straight lines, forming a hollow square, with the mouth of every gun pointing outwardly, and a laughing expression of "Surround me if you dare!" An other look will show you that the carriages are so close together that the horses can not pass between them, yet the wagon poles to which the horses had been hitched are all inside of the square. How did the six hundred horses get out? The cannon at once open their hundred mouths and are enveloped in smoke. The horses return, disappear for a moment in the dense smoke, and seemingly without their stopping long enough to be hitched to, the four lines straighten out into column, and the cavalcade is again dashing across the plain. In less than forty rods, the jumble is repeated, the square formed, the horses gone, and the hundred cannons again open. When did they reload?" The vandalism: The finest orchard I have seen in Virginia, was cut down today, and in one hour converted into a brush-heap; and for no other purpose than to give the infantry a chance to "show off" in an hour's parade. The fruit trees were in the way, and were cut down! It will take forty years to replace that orchard.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, pp. 51-3

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Benjamin F. Pearson, Sunday, November 16, 1862

We took dinner with my old friend Andrew Meredith called and seen Brothers M M Myres and CE Yeager had a pleasant time evening went to Prayer meeting at the ME church it was rather a dry time for so much mud I called with Brother Yeager a short time after meeting.

SOURCE: Edgar R. Harlan, Currator, Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 15, No. 2, October 1925, p. 95

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Benjamin F. Pearson, November 20, 1862

I spent the day seeing about my crop on my river farm evening Emma & I was at prayer meeting and after meeting we called & spent an hour with Judge Geo Wright¹ I received a letter with the information of the happy death of Sister Sophia Phillips in Cecil Co Md on the 11th

_______________

¹ George G. Wright of Keosauqua, judge of the Supreme Court of Iowa for fifteen years, and United States senator from Iowa for six years.

SOURCE: Edgar R. Harlan, Currator, Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 15, No. 2, October 1925, pp. 95-6

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Benjamin F. Pearson, Sunday, November 23, 1862

8 Oc the children & I went to the graveyard and had a season of prayer at the graves of my sainted Wife & children 11 Oc we attended preaching by Brother Brodrick at the ME church Keosauqua text John 15th 5th v we took dinner with L Meredith 2 Oc we attended Sabbath School 110 Schollars 3½ Oc we attended class & had a precious time evening Brodrick preached text Luke 1st 78th & 79th Emma handed in her letter

SOURCE: Edgar R. Harlan, Currator, Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 15, No. 2, October 1925, p. 96

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Benjamin F. Pearson, November 30, 1862

11 Oc Am Mullen & I attended church at MEC text Simon lovest thou me 3 Oc attended the funeral of Wesly Harison text Eclezeastes 12th 5th, at MEC also evening at same ch. text Prov 3rd 17th all by Rev TP Davis I spent an hour at BI Wests. staid the night with A H Mullen

SOURCE: Edgar R. Harlan, Currator, Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 15, No. 2, October 1925, p. 96