Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, November 2, 1862

We started early this morning by the northerly road; we "fell in "regularly enough, but it was not long before we took the "route step," taking the whole road. A mile or two out we halted and loaded up. Evidently the officers thought there would be plenty of game. We saw or heard little or nothing for about six miles, when we passed a camp-fire, and were told the advance had come across an outpost and killed a man. We still kept up a steady tramp, and about noon the light marching order became heavy again, and whatever useless articles we had on hand were thrown aside. At noon, we halted to feed in a field near a planter's house; the family were all on the piazza. For dinner we had potatoes, chickens, honey, applejack, and persimmons; the last of which are good if eaten with care, but, if a little green, beware! We stayed here about an hour, then packed up and started again, followed no doubt by the blessings of that whole family.

RAWLE'S MILL.

About six o'clock (the time probably when our friends at home were writing to us) we heard the artillery, and, coming to a halt, waited anxiously for the next move. To us it soon came. Companies H, Capt. Smith, and C, Capt. Lombard, were ordered forward, "E" being next in line. For a while we heard nothing of them; but when they were about half-way across the stream the rebels fired into their ranks. They, however, succeeded in crossing, and returned the rebels' fire; but Gen. Foster thought it better to shell them out, so Companies H and C were ordered back; "H" having Depeyster, Jacobs, and Parker wounded; and Co. C, Charles Rollins killed; Sergt. Pond and W. A. Smallidge wounded. Lieut. Briggs was stunned by a shell.

After the return of these companies, Belger's Battery shelled across the stream for some time, trying to dislodge the enemy. Our company and "I" were sent forward in the same track of "H" and "C," Company I being held in reserve. We had the fight all to ourselves. It was quite a distance to the water, and an illimitable one before we arrived on the other side. It was very nearly waist-deep and very cold. We had gone about over, when they fired, but the shot went over our heads: we were nearer than they thought. After coming out and shaking ourselves, Capt. Richardson deployed the company as skirmishers, and we commenced to feel our way up the slope. Before we were well at it we received another volley, which sadly disarranged the ideas of several of us, some of the boys firing back at their flash; but probably very many of our first volley went nearer the moon than the rebels; and then we jumped for cover. Some found the grape-vines not conducive to an upright position. We got straightened out at last, and gradually worked our way forward; the writer's position being in the gutter (or where the gutter ought to have been) on the left of the road; soon receiving another volley which we answered in good shape, hoping we did better execution than they had done. We could hear those on the right of the road, but could see nothing, and could only fire on the flash of the rebels. After five or six volleys from our side, and as many from the rebels, we were ordered back, recrossed the ford, and found we had met with loss. Charles Morse was shot through the head. His death must have been instantaneous, as the ball went in very near the temple and came out the opposite side. A detail buried him among the pines, very nearly opposite the surgeon's head-quarters. Charles H. Roberts was quite severely wounded in the left shoulder. There were some narrow escapes, and, among the minor casualties, E. V. Moore was struck by a ball in the heel of his boot; he was tumbled over; immediately picked up by the stretcher-bearers and carried to the rear, but would not stay there, and soon found his way to the front again.

The writer, not wishing to be wounded, persistently held his gun ready to ward off all shot, consequently one of the numerous well-aimed shots struck the gun instead of his leg, fracturing the rifle badly; the bullet, after going through the stock of the gun, entered his pantaloons, scraping a little skin from his leg, and finally found its way to his boot.

The surgeon would not report him as wounded or missing, so he had to report back to his company; found his blanket and tried to turn in, but it was no use: the company had more work on hand.

The part of the company who went into the woods on the right of the road, had a clear passage up the hill, as far as the walking was concerned, but they met their share of fighting, happily coming back with no loss. Parsons, Tucker, and Pierce succeeded in taking three prisoners, who were sent to the rear. We were detailed as baggage guard, which duty we did bravely!! Every time the line halted we would lie down, and were asleep as soon as we struck the mud!! Finally we made a grand start, forded the stream again, and, after being frightened to death by a stampede of horses up the road, we found a cornfield, and, after forming line several times for practice with the rest of the regiment, spread ourselves on the ground and hugged each other and our wet rubber blankets to get warm.

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. 17-8

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, November 3, 1862

At four o'clock this morning "all was wrong." We were aroused from the most miserable attempt at sleep our boys ever dreamed of trying. It was a mercy to awaken us; only we were so stiff, sore, cold, and hungry, that it was most impossible to get up at all. We were covered with dirt and frost. Our guns were in fearful condition, and we were ordered to clean them and be ready for the road in half an hour. That was good; no chance to eat anything or clean up ourselves; but such is the luck of war. At six A.M. we started on our second day's tramp. Had you asked any of the company, they would have said, "We have been tramping a week." Our colonel gave us a good word this morning, in passing, saying we had done well. We are satisfied; for although "Rawle's Mill" was not an extensive affair, but very few men being engaged, it was an ugly encounter for raw material, fired upon, as we were, while up to our waists in water; the unknown force of the enemy, apparently on top of the hill, under cover, and having a perfect knowledge of the "lay of the land.”

After a steady march of about twelve miles, we entered Williamston, where we halted, broke ranks, and had a picked-up dinner, and made ourselves comfortable for two hours or so. Williamston is a pretty little town on the Roanoke. We foraged considerably; most every man having something. The gunboats here effected a junction with us, bringing extra rations, &c.

We visited the wounded, calling on Charley Roberts, who was hit last night. He looks pretty white, but is doing well, and will probably be sent to New Berne on one of the boats. A few of us found a piano in one of the houses, and after moving it to the piazza, Ned Ramsay played, and we sang home tunes for a while, having a large audience on the lawn. Soon after the officers broke up our fun, by Fall in E," and as that was what we came for, we "fell in," and recommenced our walk at three P.M., marching about five miles, when we pitched camp for the night. Parsons has been made sergeant for his coolness and bravery in taking prisoners.

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. 19

Diary of Captain Joseph Stockton, December 1, 1862

First day of winter; rained in torrents all night; we were without shelter and had to take the soaking. I kept one side of myself dry at a time by standing in front of large log fire-when my back was dry I would turn around and dry the front of my body. Part of the time I slept sitting against a tree with my rubber blanket over my head, while my legs got soaked. About 2 o'clock we saw a large light to the south of us which proved to be a bridge which the rebels had set on fire as our troops got up to it. This morning I had a daylight view of the different camps; the sun was shining, making the scene a beautiful one.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 5

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 21, 1862

Sunday morning. Nothing happened during the night. We bought a good breakfast of a family who make a business of feeding the soldiers that come here, for I was told there is a detail here every day. I wish it might be us every time. As soon as the new guard arrives we are to go back to camp and camp fare again.

2 p. m. In camp again. It seems hotter and dirtier than ever after our day in the country. Before we left Catonsville we filled our haversacks with great luscious peaches. Those that ripen on the tree the people cannot sell, so they gave us all that would fall with a gentle shake of the tree. How I wished I could empty my haversack in your lap, mother. On the way to camp we met a drove of mules, said to be 400 of them, loose, and being driven like cattle. They were afraid of us and all got in a close bunch, and the 400 pairs of ears all flapping together made a curious sight. We were told they came from Kentucky and are for use in the army. They were all bays, with a dark stripe along the back and across the shoulders, looking like a cross laid on their backs. It hasn't seemed much like Sunday. But Sunday doesn't count for much in the army. Many of our hardest days have been Sundays. But I am sleepy, having been awake all last night. It is surprising how little sleep we get along with. I, who have been such a sleepy-head all my life, get only a few hours' sleep any night, and many nights none at all. I suppose we will sometime get accustomed to the noise and confusion, that so far has had no end, night or day.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 33-4

Diary of Musician David Lane, October 28, 1862

Camp near Lovetsville, Va., Oct. 28th.

We bade farewell to Pleasant Valley, and started for the land of "Dixie" quite unexpectedly to us privates. Orders were issued on Saturday to the different companies to have their things packed and be ready to move at daybreak next morning. We were aroused at three o'clock, prepared and ate our breakfast, and at five o'clock were on the march. It had rained some during the night, and morning gave promise of a rainy day. Well did it fulfill its promise. About eight o'clock a drizzling rain set in, which continued until about one o'clock, when the wind changed to the north, increasing in violence until it blew a gale, which continued until morning, raining incessantly. The north winds here are very cold, and the poor soldiers, marching or standing all day in the rain, with sixty rounds of ammunition, three days' rations, knapsacks and blankets on their backs, passed a very uncomfortable day. But they bore it uncomplainingly, and when, about sundown, we pitched our little "dog tents" on the soaked and muddy ground with shouts and merry jests, we made a break for the nearest fence, and soon each company had a pile of dry chestnut rails, with which we kept a roaring fire until morning. Many of the men were wet to the skin, and, too cold to sleep, could be seen at any hour of the night in circles round their blazing campfires, talking over past scenes or future prospects. As I passed from group to group through the brigade, I noticed a feeling of discontent, caused by a lack of confidence in our leaders. The men seemed to feel we are being outgeneraled; that Lee's army, and not Richmond, should be the objective point; that the rebellion can never be put down until that army is annihilated. When I returned to our company the boys had arranged it all—the President is to retire all generals, select men from the ranks who will serve without pay, and will lead the army against Lee, strike him hard and follow him up until he fails to come to time. So passed this fearful night away.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 20-1

 

Diary of Musician David Lane, December 9, 1862

Camp near Fredericksburg, Dec. 9th, 1862.

It has been a long time—fully five weeks since I made the last entry in this journal. The forced marches, exposure, and insufficient food of the week preceding our arrival at this place had been too much even for me. It had rained or snowed almost continuously; we were out of reach of our supply train for seven days. Food gave out, but on we pressed. When we halted on the evening of our arrival, too utterly worn out to pitch a tent, I spread my blanket on the ground, threw myself upon it and slept the sleep of exhaustion. It rained during the night, and when I awoke I found myself lying in a pool of water that half covered me. My recollection of what occurred for several successive days is very vague; I knew I was being cared for by somebody, somewhere; I had no cares, no anxious doubts or perplexing fears. If in pain, I had not sense to realize it. One morning after, I do not know how many days, I awoke to consciousness; I heard a well-remembered step tripping across the floor and stop at my bedside, a soft, cool hand was pressed upon my brow; a sweet, familiar voice whispered in my ear: "You are better, dear; you will get well now." Nay, do not smile, thou unbelieving cynic, for from that hour—yes, from that instant—I began to mend. I learned afterward that I had been very low with some form of fever; that I was not taken to the hospital because my kind friend and comrade, Orville Collier, had begged the privilege of nursing me in his own tent. I can now sit up, can walk about a little, and hope soon to be well.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 22

Diary of Private William S. White, June 12, 1861

Slept the greater portion of the day—had no "roll call"—feet much blistered and unable to wear shoes, consequently the hot, broiling sun has full sweep at them. The New Orleans Zouaves, Colonel Coppens commanding, six hundred strong, arrived at Yorktown this evening. They are a rough looking set, but are splendidly drilled and well officered.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 100

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, October 25, 1862

We turned in last night in a commotion, for if the “Alabama” should overhaul us what should we do? We could not defend ourselves, nor could we swim ashore. We soon saw, by the way the officers of our boat allowed the other to overhaul us, that they were not afraid. It turned out to be our old friend the “Mississippi,” with the 5th Mass., the balance of the 3d, and a few of ours, who had been left behind. We found afterwards that the men on the other steamer were as frightened as we were, thinking us the "Alabama." Why were the officers so reticent? What needless anxiety they could have saved by promulgating what they knew.

Many had become so tired of sleeping below that they tried the deck and boats, but were always driven down, not at the point of the bayonet, but with a handspike. Two of us arranged a novel sleeping place, and proposed to try it; we got into the chains and tied ourselves to the shrouds, where we could lie and watch the phosphorus below, and wonder if a sudden lurch would shake us off into the drink; but were reserved for another though similar fate, for towards morning we were awakened by a disagreeably damp sensation, and found ourselves drenched with the rain, so we hauled down our colors and crawled below to shake out the balance of the night.

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. 14

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, October 26, 1862

ARRIVAL AT NEW BERNE.

About nine this morning we saw our first of Rebeldom, and after taking a pilot, and passing several ugly-looking rips and bars, leaving Fort Macon on our left, we disembarked from the steamer to the wharf, which had a railroad depot on the farther end of it. The place is called Morehead City. But if this is a city, what can the towns and villages be? We stayed in this shed or depot awhile, and were then ordered on the train of open cars. Here we waited for two mortally long hours in a pelting rain, water on each side of us, water over us, and gradually, but persistently, water all through our clothes, and not a drop of anything inside of us.

Notwithstanding the rain storm was severe, we had considerable to interest us after we started, which was between two and three o'clock. There had been fighting along the line of road a year previous, and every few miles we passed picket-posts, occupied by Mass. regiments. We cheered them and they responded. Once, where we stopped to wood-up, we saw a settlement of negroes, and some of the boys bought or hooked their first sweet potatoes here. Others of us contented ourselves with trying to keep our pipes lighted, our tobacco dry, and the cinders out of our eyes. Most all of us came to the conclusion that North Carolina was a tough place, barren and desolate, and hardly worth the cost of fighting for it.

We arrived at New Berne about six o'clock, wet through, hungry, tired, and ready for our feather beds, but found our hotel for that night was not supplied with any such articles of furniture.

Our company, with some others, was quartered in a big barn of a building built of green boards, which had shrunk both side and end ways, and for beds we had the floor, with a few bundles of hay scattered around. We could not expect much of a supper, but we managed some way, and then turned in, wet as we were. Soon after, we were called up and informed that coffee and beef, with compliments, from the Mass. 24th Reg't, were awaiting. We accepted, with thanks, and made quite a supper. Then we turned in again,—some on bundles of hay, others on the floor. Those on the hay had a hard time of it, as the bundles were shorter than we were, and we had a tendency also to roll off. So after several ineffectual attempts, many gave it up and started from the building to find better quarters. Finally, we found some wood, made a rousing fire in an old sugar boiler, and stood around it in the rain, trying to keep warm, if not dry.

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. 15

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, October 29, 1862

Those of us who are on guard to-day are having a “soft time.” We have our orders to start at three to-morrow morning. The boys are busy packing, receiving cartridges, &c.; the cooks are hard at work in their department, and the surgeon is hunting for men to guard camp. We were afraid the guard were to be left, but the captain says he won't forget us. The knapsacks are to be stored in the officers' tents, and we are ordered to get all the sleep we can from now till four to-morrow, perhaps the last nap under cover for weeks.

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. 16

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 4, 1862

We go to-day, sure; that is, if reports are true. The Government bounty was paid to-day, and the oath of allegiance taken by the regimental officers, as well as the men. Every day the net is drawn a little tighter. No use in kicking now. We are bound by a bond none of us can break, and I am glad to be able to say, for one, that I don't want to break it. But it seems as if things dragged awfully slow. I suppose it is because I know so little about the many details that are necessary for the full organization of a regiment.

Night. Here yet. I wish we might go. We are all ready and the sooner we go the more patriotism will be left in us. Too much of it is oozing out through the eyes. People keep coming to have a last word, a last good-bye and usually a last cry over it. I am heartily glad my folks have sense enough to keep away, for it is all I can stand to see the others. No doubt for many it is a last good-bye. In the nature of things we cannot all expect to come back, but God is good, and he keeps that part hidden from us, leaving each one to think he will be the lucky one. To make matters worse, the change of water, food, and mode of living is having its effects on many, myself among the number, and I feel pretty slim to-night. I will spread my blanket on my soft pine board, and, if my aching bones will let me, will try what a good sleep will do, for we are of all men know not what to-morrow may have in store for us.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 14-5

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, Sunday, September 7, 1862

PHILADELPHIA. We were too crowded in the cars to see much, or to do much, coming here. Most of us slept nearly all the way. I did for one, but I had dreams of being trod on, and no doubt I was, for there are some that never sleep, and are constantly on the move. We finally stopped and were ferried across a river and landed in this city.

We then marched to a large hall called "The Cooper Shop," why, I don't know. We were given a royal meal, breakfast I should call it, but it was so dark, and I was so sleepy I hardly knew whether it was supper or breakfast. Cold beef, sausage, bread and butter, cheese, and good hot coffee. It was far ahead of any meal we have had so far. I am told that the place is kept open night and day by some benevolent association, and that no regiment passes through without getting a good square meal. If soldiering is all like this I am glad I am a soldier. If the Rebs ever get as far North as Philadelphia, I hope the 128th New York may be here to help defend the "Cooper Shop." After breakfast we went out on the sidewalk and slept until after daylight. We soon after started for a railroad station, where we took a train for Baltimore. Our ride so far has been one grand picnic. We have lots of fun. No matter what our condition may be, there are some that see only the funny side, and we have enough of that sort to keep up the spirits of all. All along the way the people were out, and the most of them gave us cheers, but not all, as was the case in Hudson. We are nearing the enemy's country. The change in sentiment begins to show, and the farther we go, I suppose, the less cheering we will hear, until finally we will get where the cheers will all be for the other fellow, and we will find ourselves among foes instead of friends.

Later. We are stuck on an up-grade. The engine has gone ahead with a part of the train, and we are waiting for it to come back. The train men say we are about forty miles from Baltimore. That means forty miles from our fodder, and I for one am hungry now. That meal at the Cooper Shop was good, but not lasting enough for this trip. The boys are out on the ground having some fun and I am going to join them.

BALTIMORE, MD. We are here at last. Marched about two miles from where the cars stopped, and are sitting on the sidewalk waiting to see what will happen next. I hope it will be something to eat, for I am about famished. Some of the men are about played-out. The excitement and the new life are getting in their work. The day has been very hot, too, and with nothing to eat since some time last night, it is not strange we begin to wonder where the next meal is coming from, and when it will come. Baltimore is not like New York. I know that much now, but I don't know enough about either city to tell what the difference is. A regiment, fully armed, escorted us here from the cars, and are either staying around to keep us from eating up the city, or to keep the city from eating us, I don't know which. Some act friendly, but the most of the people look as if they had no use for us. Later. We have finally had something to eat. My folks always taught me never to find fault with the victuals set before me, so I won't begin now. But for that I should say something right now. But whatever it was it had a bracing effect and we soon started and marched through the city to high ground, which I am told is "Stewart's Hill."

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 18-20

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, Monday, September 8, 1862

Monday morning. Our first night in Baltimore is over. We had roll-call, to see if we were all here, and then spread our blankets on the ground and were soon sound asleep. Walt. Loucks and I each having a blanket, we spread one on the ground and the other over us. With our knapsacks for a pillow, we slept as sound as if in the softest bed. The dew, however, was heavy, and only for the blanket over us we would have been wet through. As it was, our hair was as wet as if we had been swimming. Sleeping on the ground, in clothing already wet with sweat, and the night being quite cool, has stiffened our joints, so we move about like foundered horses. Had the Rebs come upon us when we first got up we couldn't have run away and we certainly were not in a condition to defend ourselves. But this wore off after a little, and we were ourselves again. As it was in Hudson, so it is here. All sorts of rumors as to what we do next are going the rounds. I have given up believing anything, and shall wait until we do something or go somewhere, and then, diary, I'll tell you all about it.

Night. We put in the day sitting around and swapping yarns, etc. None of us cared to go about, for we were pretty tired, after our hard day yesterday. Shelter tents were given out to-day. One tent for every two men. They are not tents at all, nothing but a strip of muslin, with three sticks to hold them up. There are four pins to pin the corners to the ground. Then one stick is put in like a ridge pole, and the other two set under it. The ends are pinned down as far apart as a man is long, and then the middle raised up. They may keep off rain, if it falls straight down, but both ends are open, and two men fill it full. We have got them up, each company in a row. It is a funny sight to stand on the high ground and look over them. Lengthwise, it is like a long strip of muslin with what a dressmaker calls gathers in it. Looked at from the side it is like a row of capital A's with the cross up and down instead of crosswise.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 20-1

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 12, 1862

The storm came. A soaking rain in the night; it soaked every one of us. I suppose the officers fared better, for they have tents like houses, but we, the shelter-tent brigade, certainly took all that came. I got up from a puddle of water. The water ran down the hill, under our tents, and under us. This softened the ground so we sank right in. The ground is a red color, and we are a sight to behold. By looking at a man's trousers it is easy to tell whether he slept on his back or on his side. In one case he has one red leg, and in the other, two. I think it would improve the appearance if the whole trousers were soaked in the mud. This sickly blue is about the meanest color I can think of. I guess the Government had more cloth than color. One fellow says there was only one kettle of dye. The officers' clothes were dipped first, then the privates' coats, and last the pantaloons. No matter what question comes up there are some who can explain and make it all clear. A part of Company B was sent out on picket duty to-day. I don't know where or what their duties are. All sorts of war stories are in the air. One paper tells of a great battle and the next one contradicts it. I guess it is done to make sale for papers. Newsboys rush into camp yelling "Extra" and we rush at them and buy them out. But it gives us something to talk about, and that is worth much to us.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 24-5

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, April 5, 1863

April 5.

We have had no freezing weather since we returned, but have come back to a comparatively cold climate. I sleep warmly, but smile at the transfer from my luxurious chamber and spring bed at Jacksonville to this unwarmed tent in the sand, with hospital stores boxes for my bed and my field case of instruments for my pillow. Never an aching bone nor soreness of muscle from this. Sleeping half dressed is the normal condition and when I get along habitually to coat and cap and boots and spurs I don't see what special advantages bears and buffaloes will have over me.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 386

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, April 12, 1863

April 12.

Should one inquire for my health tonight, I might adopt the reply of a soldier yesterday: "Not superior, thank God." A good night's sleep will restore all that was lost under the tramp of couriers and rattle of sabres on the piazza during the whole of last night. Why couriers should carry sabres except to be in harmony with the general spirit of the War Department, I cannot conceive. There would be precisely as much sense in my being tripped up by mine at the bedside of the sick or at the operating table. Ample preparations were made for the repulse of a large invading force and no force invaded. I guess we are all a little sorry, since it seems like flying in the face of Providence to leave unused for skirmishing these wonderful pine barrens. I thought General Saxton looked a little disappointed about it when he came out this morning. General Hunter, who ought to be holding Charleston today, was with him. Were I not so sleepy I would crowd in a few curses here on the mismanagement which has resulted in the withdrawal of our forces from before Charleston.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 387-8

Diary of Private Louis Leon: April 2, 1863

Our regiment was sent on picket this morning at daylight-one mile from camp and two miles from the enemy. Companies B and G are on the left, A and D on the right, F and I in the center. We are within hailing distance of the Yankee line of pickets. There is not much firing. Tom Tiotter and I are on the color guard. We have nothing to do if we don't want to, except stay with the colors. So this evening at 4 o'clock we went as near the Yankees as we dared, to see the town of Washington. Saw the place, their breastworks and their camps very plainly. We then returned and slept on our arms all night that is, we tried to sleep, but could not for the infernal noise from the owls that are in the swamps around us.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 20-1

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Thursday, July 9, 1863

This morning about two o'clock we come to a halt near Burnsville, Mississippi, and send a company forward to reconnoitre. During this time the remaining companies obtain some little sleep; some reclining by the road side, some in the road. Occasionally a mule steps upon a soldier, and then the poor meek creature gets a set-back. At daylight the company sent out returns without discovering anything. The bugle now blows and we move on a few miles and halt upon a blue grass common to graze the mules and eat our breakfast, after which we move on to Iuka, where we remain about one-half hour and return to Burnsville, halt, feed, and eat our supper. About dark the bugle blows and the regiment is soon in the saddle. We move on to Glendale, halt and lie down to obtain some rest.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 178

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, February 3, 1863

This morning it is very cold, and a fierce north wind is blowing. The Seventh are aroused early, and having last night received marching orders, we are soon in line with three days rations. The Second Iowa takes the advance, the division and post teams follow, the Twenty-ninth Ohio the center, the Seventh Illinois the rear. We go to the Davenport Mills, about twenty miles away to the south-east in the north Mississippi pineries to get lumber. In the evening we load up in order to get an early start in the morning for Corinth. Loaded up, the troops go into camp; soon the camp fires are blazing; pine boards burn briskly. After making our coffee we lie down by the fire to sleep, but no sleep for the soldiers; the wind blows too coldly, and we find it difficult to keep warm, for we burn on one side and freeze on the other.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 139-40

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, February 8, 1863

This morning the boys remain in their bunks unmindful of reveille, showing a determination to obtain some sleep and rest after the two days, trip to the mills. No news came with this evening's mail and everything seems quiet and dull in and around Corinth. During the latter part of this month, (February) nothing of note occurs, and also during the month of March a dull monotnoy prevails in the camp of the Seventh, Colonel Babcock having been for some time president of the Military Commission in session at Corinth, for reasons best known to himself resigns his colonelcy of the Serenth regiment and leaves the service; and we all regret to see him leave for he has been to us a good, brave and faithful officer. The following testimonial from his companions in arms will speak for itself.

Whereas, Colonel Andrew J. Babcock has resigned his commission as Colonel of the Seventh regiment of Illinois Infantry Volunteers, and we the officers and men of the Seventh having been long under his command, both appreciate his worth and deeply regret his separation from us, therefore be it

Resolved, That in Colonel A. J. Babcock the state of Illinois and the army of the United States have lost a brave, competent and meritorious officer.

Resolved, That we, who have for nearly two years been associated with him in his duties, in the garrison and in the field, through many toilsome marches and in the hard fought battles of Donelson and Corinth, bear witness that he has proved himself a most daring, discreet and loyal leader; and that in the execution of his office, as well as his personal bearing, he has won not only the confidence and respect but also the esteem and affection of all his command.

“Resolved, That as Colonel Babcock from the first organization of the first regiment of Illinois-from the opening of the war to the present date, has proved himself before us, as a commander most efficient—as a man and a brother in arms at once just, genial and generous, we sincerely hope and trust that his affairs may again permit the government to avail itself of his invaluable services in the field; and should such be the case, it will be our highest happiness to be again associated with him in the service of our common country.

R. L. METCALF, Pres.,

Surgeon Serenth Ill. Inft.,

J. S. ROBINSON, Secretary,
        Adjutant.

As the Colonel leaves us we remember those wintry days of battle on the Cumberland hills before Fort Donelson, and how with the private soldiers he endured the battle's privations there; and how amid smoke and flame he led the Seventh on to glorious victory. We also remember how he moved upon Corinth's bloody field and proved himself a leader true, when darkness and gloom seemed to mantle the Seventh's brave soldiers. May he on his return to civil life receive tokens of gratitude from Illinois' grateful people.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 142-4