Diary of Musician David Lane, July 29, 1863

Haines Bluff. We did not leave on the 23d, as was rumored, but are still in our old camp, enjoying a short season of repose preparatory to our voyage up the river. It is a repose much needed by our men. What prompted our commander to hurry us through as he did sixty miles in three days—I cannot conceive. Strict orders were issued against straggling. No man would be allowed to leave the ranks without a written pass from the Surgeon, and all stragglers were to be picked up by the Provost Guard and taken to headquarters for trial by court martial. The General "reckoned without his host." Some men, so great was their respect for discipline, marched in the ranks until they fell, in a dying condition. But most of them cursed the General and his orders and sat down to rest and cool off whenever their judgment told them they were getting too hot, and, when rested, came on again.

After the first day, no attention was paid to orders. Men fell out in such numbers the Provost could not arrest them, and came straggling into camp until nearly morning.

The next morning after our arrival, in the Seventeenth alone, one hundred twenty men were reported unfit for duty, and forty-five are now sick in hospital. Doubtless much of this sickness is the effect of the poisonous liquid we were compelled to use for cooking and drinking purposes. How grateful to us, then, is the delicious, sparkling water that flows in abundance from that romantic spring I described on our first arrival. Before I leave this subject, let me record our experience the week we were encamped before Jackson. The first day we used cistern water, but that soon failed. After that, all that was left for coffee and for cooking purposes was water from an artificial pond, scooped out in a barnyard, and all the battery and camp horses—five or six hundred of them in number—were watered there every day. They were ridden right into the pond! Rather than drink it, I have been three miles to the rear, after having been on duty all day, for a canteen of cistern water.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 71-2

Diary of Musician David Lane, July 31, 1863

Our transports have arrived, and we expect to leave this afternoon for Cairo. Some of our boys are very sick, and urge me to go with them on the hospital boat. They have obtained the consent of Colonel Luce, and I may be detailed for that purpose. Rumor says the sick are to be sent to St. Louis. If so, I will go there with them and join the regiment as soon as possible, wherever it may be. I do not like to leave it, for I am lonely and discontented when out of sight of the Seventeenth. Colonel Luce says we are going to Indiana, but there are so many contingencies, we may be needed elsewhere.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 73

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, January 22, 1863

The rain is continuous: over a week now of steady weather, and nothing but inside drills, under Lieut. Newell, who is always trying, and generally succeeds, to "PUT IN MORE SNAP, MEN!" interspersed with bayonet drills on our own hook, and occasionally, when it holds up for a few hours, Col. Lee stretches our legs with a drill outside.

At dress parade lately the order was read directing the following victories to be inscribed upon the flags of the regiments, batteries, &c., which were on the Goldsboro expedition:

KINSTON, DECEMBER 14, 1862.

WHITEHALL, DECEMBER 16, 1862.

GOLDSBORO, DECEMBER 17, 1862.

On account of the resignation of Captains Lombard and Reynolds, the rank of Capt. Richardson is advanced, he becoming third. Consequently "E" is color company, a position not only of honor to the captain and his men, but in some positions in which we may be placed it means dangerous work. We hope we may carry them well, and when we give them up either to some other company or when we are disbanded, it will be with the same pride that we take them now.

Several of the company are a little under the weather, but no fever cases yet. We have been fortunate, while other companies are having quite a number of sick men.

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 34

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: November 19, 1862

Have been paid off; $24.70 I got, and we all went ashore and washed up. The bunks on the Arago have been used so long by so many that they are lousy and most everyone has them. I, however, have found none as yet. We are kept on shore as much as possible, as a guard against disease, which would surely come when so many are crowded in so small a space. As there is no way to spend money here except for oysters, a great many gamble it away, then borrow again from those that win and pay any interest asked for. There is more and more sickness every day. Many are taken to a hospital at Fortress Monroe, which I am told is not far away.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 63-4

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: November 22, 1862

The sun rose clear this morning, and the air is just right. Our lower regions are hot and stuffy, but on deck it is delightful. Great birds, sea-gulls I hear them called, are all about and pick up, or pick at, everything that floats on the water. We went ashore and while there saw General Corcoran and staff. If he amounts to much he is, like a "singed cat," better than he looks. My throat troubles me yet and to-night is about as bad as ever. Good-night, diary.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 64

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: Thursday, November 27, 1862

This is really Thanksgiving day. So by my mistaking Tuesday for it I really have two holidays. The men are ashore for a Thanksgiving sermon. I am taking mine in my bunk. Have less fever but more sore throat.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 66

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: November 28, 1862

Lots of sick men to-day. I am better and was on duty again. Had only to attend sick-call and take the men to the doctor. There were only six from Company B, while some companies had twenty. Sergeants Noble and Kniffin were sent ashore to the Chesapeake hospital to-day.

Night. John Thompson and Isaiah Dibble, fresh from the North, came on board to-night. Gave us all the home news and many loving messages from those we love so well. But the way they spoke of our quarters was scandalous. Said hogs would die if confined in such a pen as this.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 66

Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft, Sunday, February 2, 1862

Froze a little last night but has thawed in the sun all day. Went out to church with wife and boys. Chaplin Booth of the 5^th Reg^t Sickels Brigad[e] preached, a pretty smart man. A crazy man in the church made a disturbance by giving an Extra discourse. He was hustled out by one of the Deacons. Ed Dickerson came up and spent an hour or two this evening. The roads are in such an awful condition that a “movement” or an “advance” would seem to be simply impossible. Drills and Dress parades in the Camps are in most cases dispensed with. There is a great deal of sickness in the City, but we hear less about the Small pox than we did a month ago. Our family is in good health.

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.

Severe Illness of the President’s Son.

Willie Lincoln, the son of the President, who has been very ill for several days is much improved.

SOURCE: “Severe Illness of the President’s Son,” The New York Daily Herald, Wednesday, February 12, 1862, p. 5, col. 4

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan, Monday, January 16, 1865

Splendid weather. Lt Sharman quite ill and in our qtrs. Reported (?) Shelby on the Ark river above here. I. N. Ritner dies in Hosp. Battalain drill P. M.

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. 571

Diary of Private John C. West, Friday, April 17, 1863

I left Rusk on the morning of the 16th on a six passenger coach; there were fourteen aboard; the driver was skillful and the road good; I was suffering intensely from dysentery and had a high fever from breakfast time until sundown; oh, the long, long weary miles pent up in that crowded coach; I slept half an hour at Henderson; at the next stand I bathed in the horse bucket and my fever left me; I chewed a piece of salt ham; it was now dark; I laid down on top of the stage coach and was very comfortable about half of the night, but suffered tortures during the latter part of the night; reached Marshall about 7 o'clock in the morning; sent for a physician and will remain here for a day or two, until I am able to travel; Lieutenant Selman had a cup of genuine coffee made for me which I enjoyed very much; Burwell Aycock is trying to get a soft boiled egg for me; I think I will be well in a day or two; this attack was brought on by a check of perspiration after becoming overheated in the walk of four miles to Palestine.

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. 17

Diary of Private John C. West, Saturday, April 18, 1863

I spent a very uncomfortable night; a dull, steady pain all night; had taken twenty drops of laudanum; had no matches and did not wish to disturb my companions; I did not sleep more than an hour; my friends left this morning for Alexandria via Shreveport; I could have gone with them if my physician, Dr. Johnson, had kept his promise and given me medicine yesterday evening that would have insured a night's rest, but he was detained in the country by an urgent case; General Chambers thinks Texas ought to give three hundred and twenty acres of land for every new born boy; the doctor came in about 8 o'clock in the morning, left three pills for me to take at intervals of two hours and a powder to be taken at bed time; I am getting on very well and will leave here on Monday, I think; I have just discovered that my pocketbook is lost, containing about sixty dollars; I am satisfied that I lost it off the top of the stage between here and the twelve mile stand this side of Rusk; I have had advertisements struck off to this effect, headed, "Lost! Lost!! the Last Red!!!" and asked the stage driver to have them posted on the road every five or six miles; since my pocketbook is gone I feel bound to accept the kind invitation of Mrs. Brownnigg, formerly Octavia Calhoun, to take a room in her house; she has just sent me a nice breakfast, and I have sent her word that I will come down.

I am at Mrs. Brownnigg's in a comfortable room; do not feel as if I were in the way as there is plenty of house room; Mrs. Bacon, formerly Anna Haralson, is here; she arrived yesterday and started to Georgia with Mr. Bacon, but became disgusted with the trip; she and Mrs. Brownnigg both treat me as kindly as though I were a brother, and I know my precious wife would feel very well satisfied if I could receive such treatment every time I am away from her, but there is no attention that approaches the gentle and delicate touch of a wife's hand, and there is no wife whose tenderness and sympathy can equal that of my Mary; I must forego the pleasure of her gentle words and smiles for a season, until the kindness of Providence brings us together again; I am located as well here as I could possibly be at home and may God and good angels guard my benefactors.

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. 17-9

Diary of Private John C. West, Monday, April 20, 1863

I was asleep the greater part of last night, but cannot call it rest. Oh! those hideous dreams which haunted me. I went to a market on Bridge street in Waco, where human flesh, sound and putrid, was bought and sold. I bought and ate, and made my children eat, then dreamed again. Oh! such horrid, phantastic and awful visions as only opium can breed! Fearful crimes were calmly concocted, and the darkest mysteries were enjoyed with devilish glee! Everything which was unholy, everything fiendish, damnable and impure seemed ever present. But the night and the dream have past, and let them be past forever! I am not so well to-day as yesterday, but do not think I will need any more medicine.

Major Holman came to see me again this morning. Mr. Lewis, an old gentleman, formerly clerk of the Federal Court at Tyler, also came to see me. He is just from Huntsville, Alabama, and gave me suggestions as to the route across the Mississippi.

I took a whisky toddy this morning. Miss Beloy came in and brought a very fat, pretty baby, her little sister. She is an amiable looking girl-reminds me of sister Mac (Mrs. DeSanssure) as she looked in the golden old days when we were young and before so many friends had dropped like flowers in the tomb, and when Mac had lightly "supped sorrow." When I have tears to shed let them fall for the dread affliction of my friends, for Oh! how bitterly, bitterly my dear sisters, Mrs. M. B. and Mac DeS. have suffered!

Mrs. Bacon's little girl seems very sick to-day. I have been in Mrs. B.'s room lying on a lounge nearly all the morning.

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. 20-1

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells: December 13, 1862

Marching orders, sure enough. We drew three days' rations this morning, with orders to have two cooked and in our haversacks, ready to march at 5 o'clock the next morning. I have a new pair of boots which I expect to break in on the march—or they will break me. We were relieved this morning by the 126th. I have a very severe cold.

SOURCE: Seth James Wells, The Siege of Vicksburg: From the Diary of Seth J. Wells, Including Weeks of Preparation and of Occupation After the Surrender, p. 16

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones: Monday, September 22, 1862

Rienzi. To-day I felt very weak, there was no local pain, but a general debility.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 7

Diary of Private William S. White, March 9, 1862

Left Petersburg this morning for Suffolk. Was quite ill on the train, and when I reached Suffolk, had to take my bed. Heard to-day of the actions of the Merrimac—all honor to the noble Buchanan, for he has added new glories to the Southern cause.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 112

Diary of Private William S. White, March 12, 1862

Have been confined to my bed for two days with chills and fever. The Suffolk people are very kind to our sick.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 112

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, January 8, 1863

We have had several cases of fever lately, occasioned, it is said, by malaria from the lower swamps in the neighborhood. We have one slough close by us, between our barracks and the river. At first we tried to fill it up, but finding it apparently had no bottom, gave it up, and now use it to empty our swill into, keeping it constantly stirred up, of course. Our camp is on as high and dry ground as any in the neighborhood, but there is evidently something about it which is wrong.

We are now also having the benefit of the rainy season, consequently most of our drill is in-doors. We like it for a change, as it gives us more leisure to write; and I fear we are getting fearfully lazy, as we do a great deal of sleeping. It is about time to give us another march or we will get rusty. The rain still reigns, and we probably will not move till it is over.

Just about this time look out for quinine. We are ordered to take it every night to kill the fever. Our captain looks out for us, that we do not lose our share. Generally, Sergeant Thayer goes round with the big bottle, giving each man his dose, the captain following close by. Several have tried various ways to dodge it, but they were too sharp for us, and when they caught us we had to take a second glass of it. We would give ours up if we thought there was not enough to go through the officers' tents; but they say they take their dose after us. We are afraid it is a long time after.

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 32

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Friday, June 3, 1864

A cold rain continued during the night. What would the good folks at home say could they see this camp this cool, wet morning—men lying in the wet sand? Could they have heard the coughing of thousands as I heard it when I walked the camp to shake off the cold that chilled wet clothing, would they not say: Now that so much has been imperiled for the country, let us make it a glory and a blessing to ages, an honor to ourselves, our institutions the abode of liberty, a beacon that shall light the world and silence the wrath of treason? There are 20,000 within a space so small that a strangling cough can be heard from one side to the other.

Report that nine men tunneled out and one guard escaped with them. The tunnel is found and being filled. Col. Parsons was inside; he thinks exchange is agreed upon, but can't be effected for our forces cover the point in the cartel. Were that all we should soon be relieved. He is quite familiar with a few of us and expressed a feeling that he would resign his command were it possible. He was sent for duty here because the most of his command are prisoners. Earlier in the war he was twice a prisoner, captured by Burnside's men, and was well treated. He says men are sent here without any provision made for shelter, and he has no orders or means to furnish it; that it is not the fault of the local commissary that we are left to suffer. Wirz is the jailor, a morose, inclement tempered man. It requires but little to get him in a rage. He is called "the old Dutch Captain"; is generally hated. Men caught in attempting escape are unreasonably punished by wearing ball and chain, bucking and gagging, putting in stocks, hanging by thumbs, by lash and close confinement.

Prisoners in today report the two armies on to Richmond, Lee with his right, Grant with his left; Kilpatrick 25 miles in the rear of Atlanta tearing up roads.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 71-2

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Saturday, June 12, 1864

Four days I have been ill. Among new men bloody flux and dysentery prevail; this is my trouble. I am better today; a fine breeze lifts me. From last date it has rained every day. We have news from my regiment. Adjutant Carpenter was killed in a charge, both Col. Grover and Lieut. Col. Cook are disabled; Capt. J. L. Goddard, of my company, in command. The movement of trains toward Americus is on account of wounded Confederates being taken to Americus from battlefields about Atlanta. All doctors absent; no sick call for a week. The dead are daily drawn out by wagon loads.

On the 8th a Catholic priest said to us he supposed we were badly treated, but there are as kind hearted people about here as anywhere; that officers have it their own way; thought our government unwilling to exchange, but if better provisions could not be made for us, something ought to be done. Priests, though frequently in, have little to say. They are said to be using their doctrinal influence to get men to swear allegiance to the Confederacy. I do not accept this as true, though one of Erin's sons frequently visited, who said to me that he refused to renounce Uncle Sam, yesterday went out with the priest and has not returned.

I am out of conceit with many reports which originate in camp. I have no faith in innocent liars who tell so much news. For instance: Lincoln is going to give two for one to get us out; "is going to throw the nigger overboard to please Rebels"; that Secretary Stanton has said that "none but dead beats and coffee boilers are taken prisoners, and the army is better off without them." Likely some Rebel started this story, but it had weight among some. Indignant crowds gather and vent their curses on Stanton. Grant is cursed by some, so is the President and the Cabinet; for these gossipers have but little depth of thought and are easily moved by groundless rumors. It is cheering to know many on whose eyes are no scales, logically rebutting these stories and laying the blame of our abuse on the Rebel authorities, where it belongs. A small ration of rice today.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 73-4