Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: August 22, 1863

Reveille at daylight and orders to march at 6 A. M. Rear guard. Hastened breakfast and led out. Went down to the road to an orchard and dismounted. Remained there till noon, idling, joking and eating apples. Read Independent. How thankful I am that I can have something to read. Loitered along the road, getting to London at 9 P. M. 3 miles. Camped in a poor, nasty place. Slept well.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 84

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, May 28, 1862

Beaufort, S. C. May 28th, 1862.

My dear Mother:

After 12 o'clock at night, and the certainty of a fatiguing day to-morrow, to be followed still by days in which sleep will be but stingily indulged in — so I must write briefly. At length a prospect is before us of active service. The long dreamed of time has arrived, and the word "Onward to Charleston" has been spoken. Unless a steamer arrives to-morrow from the North, which shall utterly change all plans, on Friday we will make our start. The same steamer that takes you this will likewise make known to you my fate. I trust I may write you from Charleston. The plan of attack is Benham's. Hunter only suffers it. Capt. Elliott is off to-night to destroy the railroad communication between Charleston and Savannah. He is our principal dependence when anything desperate is to be wisely done.

Multitudes of farewell kisses for yourself, sisters, the little boys, and others claiming love, and the kindest remembrances to Hunt, Tom, Walter, Horace, Sam and others.

Good-bye, dear Mother.

Affec'y.,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 149

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: June 15, 1863

Passed the day much as the other hot days, doing little or nothing. Read some and lay around some. Tried to get some peaches for Henry. Found none, got candy and nuts. Had a very good nap. Sent out letters. The Col. got rations over from town and we issued in double quick time. Small rations of potatoes. Byerley was over to see us, so was Marx Kraus, the boy who worked at Mr. Clough's with me.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 74

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: Wednesday, June 10, 1863

Up at three A. M. and on to the river. Forded and found rations for men and horses. Remained till noon. Talk of recrossing. Fresh troops on hand. Finally went back to camp. Took a nap and got rested — pretty tired.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 73

1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: May 30, 1862

May 30, 1862.

We have our horses saddled all the time since 2:30 yesterday morning. Owing to Colonel Kellogg's continued illness he was this morning retired from further command of brigade, and Mizner put in his place. We could hear the cars running at Corinth all last night, and now there is a heavy black smoke hanging over the place. Some think they have evacuated, but 'tis doubtful. Firing all the time since 3 this morning. Up to this time we (our regiment) have had but three men killed and nine wounded here. Have been remarkably fortunate. I gave up my cot to Major Rawalt and am sleeping on the ground now, and the confounded lizards are working me into a fever. They are as thick as you ever saw grasshoppers. One of them ran into Allan Heald's shirt bosom yesterday and they say he moved rather sprightly for a few minutes. Lots of snakes here, cottonmouths, copperheads, rattlesnakes, and commoner varmint. There's also a scorpion that looks like a lizard with a green head. They say it is poisonous.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 95-6

1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: March 18, 1862

Near Point Pleasant, Mo., March 18, '62.

You see we are creeping along down the river surely if the motions are a little slow. This is about 12 miles below Madrid and said to be 75 or 80 below Cairo. It is said that the Rebels have between a dozen and 20 steamboats above here, and I think the object in occupying this point and planting artillery here is to make the assurances we have of catching them, doubly sure, for the river is considerably less in width here than where our guns are at and near Madrid. We received orders to march about sunset last night and started at tattoo. 'Twas a beautiful ride. The road lay for nearly the whole distance right along the river bank. 'Twas warm enough without overcoat or gloves and Commander Foote added to the interest of the ride by his sleep-disturbing music up at Island 10. The river makes a horseshoe bend here and Island 10 lays almost directly east of here across the peninsula. The neck is very flat, and we could plainly see the flash of every gun and see the bombs burst in the air when more than 20 or 30 yards from the ground. The roar of the 13 and 16-inch mortars is truly terrific. There was no difficulty in distinguishing their reports from the cannons. The evidences of an earthquake having performed in this country are visible when pointed out. The natives will show you a swamp and say that was once inhabitable, and then they'll point out sand ridge about four feet nearer heaven (the surface of course)! and say that was a swamp. Well, we arrived here: at 2 o'clock last night and moved nearly two miles back from the river to be out of range of a battery the enemy have planted on the opposite shore. This two miles, after deducting about 300 yards where the road runs through the little town, was a swamp of mud and water to the horses' bellies. I noticed our flag flying On the river bank over an inverted Rebel rag. The flag staff was in front of a store that had received three cannon shots from the Rebels in their efforts to cut down our flag. Nearly every house in town has had one or more doses of heavy iron and several have been burned by shells: General Palmer is five miles below here with his brigade, He was lucky enough yesterday to disable two Rebel gunboats out of three that attacked him. I am very anxious to get out of this country and into Tennessee if possible, or if we have to stay on this side, enough below the swamps to make it a little more pleasant. That ride of last night was delicious. The order was to march without any unnecessary noise, and after 10:30 (it was 2 when we got here), the boys were all perfectly quiet, many of them asleep, and I believe I enjoyed myself better than I ever did before m my life Can’t begin to tell you precisely why, except there might have been some air-castle building, but 'twas very pleasant. I hear to-night that Island 10 was evacuated last night. Think maybe Foote has his hands full up there, and doubt the evacuation idea some. Gracious how it rained last night, commenced  just after we got here, with some awful heavy thunder and don't know how long it lasted. 'Twas raining to kill when I went to sleep. We had no tents with us and every fellow provided for himself. I Went to bed with a lot of bacon and a barrel under a tent fly and slept a la log. To-day it has been real warm. Shirt sleeves and shade were in requisition. Well I’ll write you a little every day until I can send letters.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 69-71

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Sunday, September 14, 1862

Enemy on a spur of Blue Ridge, three and one-half miles west. At 7 A. M. we go out to attack. I am sent with [the] Twenty-third up a mountain path to get around the Rebel right with instructions to attack and take a battery of two guns supposed to be posted there. I asked, “If I find six guns and a strong support?” Colonel Scammon replies, “Take them anyhow.” It is the only safe instruction. General Cox told me General Pleasanton had arranged with Colonel Crook of [the] Second Brigade as to the support of his (General Pleasanton's) artillery and cavalry, and was vexed that Colonel Scammon was to have the advance; that he, General Cox, wished me to put my energies and wits all to work so that General Pleasanton should have no cause to complain of an inefficient support. The First Brigade had the advance and the Twenty-third was the front of the First Brigade.

Went with a guide by the right flank up the hill, Company A deployed in front as skirmishers. Seeing signs of Rebels [I] sent [Company] F to the left and [Company] I to the right as flankers. Started a Rebel picket about 9 A. M. Soon saw from the opposite hill a strong force coming down towards us; formed hastily in the woods; faced by the rear rank (some companies inverted and some out of place) towards the enemy; pushed through bushes and rocks over broken ground towards the enemy; soon received a heavy volley, wounding and killing some. I feared confusion; exhorted, swore, and threatened. Men did pretty well. Found we could not stand it long, and ordered an advance. Rushed forward with a yell; enemy gave way. Halted to reform line; heavy firing resumed.

I soon began to fear we could not stand it, and again ordered a charge; the enemy broke, and we drove them clear out of the woods. Our men halted at a fence near the edge of the woods and kept up a brisk fire upon the enemy, who were sheltering themselves behind stone walls and fences near the top of the hill, beyond a cornfield in front of our position. Just as I gave the command to charge I felt a stunning blow and found a musket ball had struck my left arm just above the elbow. Fearing that an artery might be cut, I asked a soldier near me to tie my handkerchief above the wound. I soon felt weak, faint, and sick at the stomach. I laid [lay] down and was pretty comfortable. I was perhaps twenty feet behind the line of my men, and could form a pretty accurate notion of the way the fight was going. The enemy's fire was occasionally very heavy; balls passed near my face and hit the ground all around me. I could see wounded men staggering or carried to the rear; but I felt sure our men were holding their own. I listened anxiously to hear the approach of reinforcements; wondered they did not come.

I was told there was danger of the enemy flanking us on our left, near where I was lying. I called out to Captain Drake, who was on the left, to let his company wheel backward so as to face the threatened attack. His company fell back perhaps twenty yards, and the whole line gradually followed the example, thus leaving me between our line and the enemy. Major Comly came along and asked me if it was my intention the whole line should fall back. I told him no, that I merely wanted one or two of the left companies to wheel backward so as to face an enemy said to be coming on our left. I said if the line was now in good position to let it remain and to face the left companies as I intended. This, I suppose, was done.

The firing continued pretty warm for perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes, when it gradually died away on both sides. After a few minutes' silence I began to doubt whether the enemy had disappeared or whether our men had gone farther back. I called out, “Hallo Twenty-third men, are you going to leave your colonel here for the enemy?” In an instant a half dozen or more men sprang forward to me, saying, “Oh no, we will carry you wherever you want us to.” The enemy immediately opened fire on them. Our men replied to them, and soon the battle was raging as hotly as ever. I ordered the men back to cover, telling them they would get me shot and themselves too. They went back and about this time Lieutenant Jackson came and insisted upon taking me out of the range of the enemy's fire. He took me back to our line and, feeling faint, he laid me down behind a big log and gave me a canteen of water, which tasted so good. Soon after, the fire having again died away, he took me back up the hill, where my wound was dressed by Dr. Joe. I then walked about half a mile to the house of Widow Kugler. I remained there two or three hours when I was taken with Captain Skiles in an ambulance to Middletown — three and a half miles — where I stopped at Mr. Jacob Rudy's.

I omitted to say that a few moments after I first laid [lay] down, seeing something going wrong and feeling a little easier, I got up and began to give directions about things; but after a few moments, getting very weak, I again laid [lay] down. While I was lying down I had considerable talk with a wounded [Confederate] soldier lying near me. I gave him messages for my wife and friends in case I should not get up. We were right jolly and friendly; it was by no means an unpleasant experience.

Telegraphed Lucy, Uncle, Platt, and John Herron, two or threa times each. Very doubtful whether they get the dispatches. My orderly, Harvey Carrington, nurses me with the greatest care. Dr. Joe dresses the wound, and the women feed me sumptuously.

Don't sleep much these nights; days pretty comfortable.

                     

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 355

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: April 30, 1863

After breakfast, mustered. Issued two days' rations. Lt. Abbey started for Stanford for rations. Bob, Ritter and I overtook the column five miles from Mills Springs. 103rd, 27th N. J., 112th Ill. crossed at the upper ford. Commenced crossing at Mills Springs at 10 A. M. Unsaddled and got tea. Skirmishing over the river. Saddled up and hastened to the river by order. Swam the horses, ferried the men. Amusing to see the horses. Several drowned. Hard to get them across. Lay down on the bank. So much noise, could not sleep much. Crossing all night. Fannie's birthday (nineteen).

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 67

3rd Sergeant Charles Wright Wills: 10 a.m., Sunday, November 24, 1861

Bird's Point, Mo., November 24, 1861.

Sabbath morning, 10 o'clock.

I'm in clover. I've got a great big “comfort,” weighs a ton, that has been sent to my partner and myself from a young lady in Bloomington. We've tramped so much since I received that pair of blankets from you, and we never know when we start whether we're coming back here again or no, that being unable to carry them I sold them. We have had considerable cold weather. Lots of frost, and for the last two days it has been freezing all the time. We have always slept perfectly warm and getting used to it by degrees.

I never hear anyone complain. Yesterday we made a furnace in our tent that works admirably and now I wouldn't give a snap for any other winter quarters. This furnace is a grand thing. It keeps our tent dry and healthy and is as comfortable to me now as ever our house was. Don't trouble yourself in the least about our underclothing. We all have more than we want and can get any quantity at any time. Other clothing the same. We commenced building log houses for winter quarters this morning. Theo Thornton and Clem Wallace of our mess are up the river now cutting logs for them. We never drill Sundays, but for anything else we have no Sunday. We have no chaplain in our regiment. Our captain is religious but he is out now doing as much work as any of the men. We can enjoy ourselves very well here this winter, but of course we are very much disappointed in not getting into active service. I think that when our gunboats get here we will at least be allowed a trial on Columbus, but you know, and I know, that I don't know anything about it. We have had two awful rains within a week as the ponds covered with ice on our parade ground will testify. The first one caught six of our boys fifteen miles up the river cutting logs for our huts. It wet them beautifully. In camp for some reason they had doubled the pickets, strengthened the camp guard and ordered us to sleep on our arms. I think they were troubled with the old scare again. About 10:30 while the storm was at its height heavy firing commenced all at once right in the middle of the camp. What a time there was. Colonel Oglesby got his signals ready, regiments formed in the rain and the devil was to pay generally. It turned out that it was a green Iowa regiment that had just returned from another unsuccessful chase after Jeff. ’Twas an awful trick and only the greenest troops would have done it.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 44-5

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Sunday, September 25, 1864

I did not sleep much last night my wounds were so very painful. I removed some of the old fractures or splinters of the teeth and jaws that were left, about 3 o'clock a. m. with my fingers, and after that my face was easier and I rested some. I started in a private wagon from Winchester at 11 o'clock a. m. for Harper's Ferry, and at dark was still on the road near Charlestown very tired; had no scares from guerrillas; am beginning to feel weak, having eaten nothing solid since I was wounded, but I was pretty vigorous. The shock to my system has been greater than I was aware of, now that the excitement is over.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 213

Private Charles Wright Wills: September 12, 1861

Camp Norfolk, September 12, 1861.

Agreeable to our very short notice we packed our knapsacks, put three days rations in our haversacks, were carried across the river to Bird's Point in two boats (our whole regiment), and just at dark started out through the woods. ’Twas a confounded, dark, dirty, narrow road, and I was right glad when the word “halt” was given and preparations made for bunking in for the night. The next morning we started again along down the river, the gunboats, two of them, keeping a couple of miles ahead of us. We started with a couple of pieces of field artillery, but the road got so bad that we had to leave it after about three miles. We advanced about five miles when the gunboats, which were about a mile and one-half ahead of us, opened mouth, and thunder! what a rumpus they did keep up. We could not see them for the thick brush between us and the river, but we thought sure our little fight had come at last. We were drawn up in the front yard of some secesher's deserted house (a fine one), and the colonel with a small party went ahead to reconnoiter. While they were gone we ate our dinners, and made ready for the expected march and fight. But the colonel on his return, scooted us back to our morning's starting place. Whew, but that was a sweating old march. About an hour after we started back, 15 of our cavalry scouts were run in, through the place where we took dinner, by 60 or 70 secesh cavalry. Three or four were wounded and our boys say that they killed several of the Rebels. The gunboats came up in the p. m. reported fighting the “Yankee” and two land batteries, one of which was but three and one half miles below us (and some say but one arid one half miles) and had 16 guns. They crippled the dam'd “Yankee” although the latter carries 84’'s, while ours hadn't but 64’s. Our boats were not touched. A deserter came up from Columbus yesterday afternoon and says that our boats killed 200 in the fight. (I believe he is a liar and a spy). We have had it sweet the last day and two nights. Rained like sixty and we have no tents. There is no shelter but a few trees and you know they amount to nothing in heavy rains. It is amusing to see the boys figure at night for dry beds. Every thing, gates, cordwood, rails, cornstalks, weeds and panels of fence and boards are confiscated, and genius is taxed its utmost to make the sleeping as comfortable as possible. Milo Farewell, Hy. Johnson and myself sleep on an armful of cornstalks thrown on a floor of rails. With nothing between us and the clouds. Sid., (Sidney Stockdale) and Theo. each had three sticks of four foot cord wood for a couch, with their feet resting in a mudpuddle. We are further out than any other regiment now. I tell you I like this, and feel like knocking down any man that I hear grumble. None of our boys do that I hear of. We will have our tents here this p. m. though I would rather be without them; they are so much trouble. I know we will have no dirtier time than we have had the last two days, and until it gets cold I would rather not have tents if it is the same all the time. I fell in love with Paducah while I was there, and I think I will settle there when the war is over. I never saw so many pretty women in my life. All fat, smooth-skinned small boned, highbred looking women. They hollered “Hurrah for Jeff” at us, some of them, but that's all right. I could write until to-morrow morning about Paducah, but I must go and confiscate some corn for dinner.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 28-9

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: April 10, 1863

Renewed our march soon after sunrise. Got some biscuit for lunch. Drake and I rode together some again. Got into Sharpsburg a little after noon. We of the commissary put our horses in a shed and slept in a hayloft. Issued one day's rations. Such a green Com., never saw. Ate supper at a sound Union family's Hart's. Sarah very pretty little girl. Saw quite a scene at the hotel about a slave. Four or five girls crying.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 65

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: April 7, 1863

After doing stable duty, went up to Co. H and got some ham, bread and coffee. Read the morning paper and wrote to Delos. A little after noon received orders to march. Fed, packed up and marched down to the boat. Saw Al Bushnell. Other battalion along. Took supper with Capt. Stewart on the boat. Had a berth with A. B. Good sleep.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 64

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: March 16, 1864

The prison is not yet entirely completed. One side is yet open, and through the opening two pieces of artillery are pointed. About 1800 Yankees are here now. Col. Piersons commands the prison, and rides in and talks with the men. Is quite sociable, and says we are all to be exchanged in a few weeks. He was informed that such talk would not go down any longer. We had been fooled enough, and paid no attention to what they told us. Our mess is gradually settling down. Have picked out our ground, rolled some big logs together, and are trying to make ourselves comfortable. I am in the best of spirits, and will live with them for some time to come if they will only give me one quarter enough to eat, and they are doing it now, and am in my glory. Weather cleared up, and very cold nights. We put on all our clothes nights and take them off day-times. The men do most of their sleeping through the day, and shiver through the long nights

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 42

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: March 20, 1863

Issued bread and beef after breakfast. Then got up rations to issue for the remainder of the month. No lesson again. Read some and played checkers. C. G. slept with me last night and did not wake up, so has had to work all day. He received a letter from Fred.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 60

Diary of 1st Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Sunday, May 14, 1865

Arose late this morning, lameness much better. Capt. on duty as Brig. off. of the day & I take the co out on inspection Spend the forenoon reading & writing, sleep all the afternoon Nothing new in the papers today published in Mobile. The steamer which burned yesterday was the Lt. John, everything on board was a total loss, two lives lost one a passenger the other the cabin boy, fire broke out in some cotton alongside the boiler Boys who have been to the city today state that the 1st Div Quartermaster had drawn the clothing & entrenching tools for that command but was ordered not to issue, & I learn positively that the 26th N. Y. Battery had drawn the complement of ammunition for field service & had again turned it over, Preaching in camp this eve After supper go to the river, While there the steamers Thomas and Lockwood come down the latter carrying about 300 Jonnies.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 601

Diary of 1st Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Wednesday, May 10, 1865

Slept sweetly. Sun arose hot. Myself rather lame with a boil on the right ancle, Temp & Capt hard to work get up a good shade & at 10, A. M. ordered ¾ mile to the right & camp in the brushy woods where we have to cut out the brush to make camp. The report of our likelyhood to be mustered out arose from the publication of Genl Orders No 77, news here that Kirby Smith tells his men by a proclamation that he intend to fight, are told that tomorrow at 8. a. m. we get our Greenback rec mail today.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 600

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: July 26, 1862

Had a good trip. Got out from under the noses of heavy forces of the enemy the wife and four children of Mr. Archibald Caldwell. He will settle in Indiana. We left camp with Companies A, I, C, and E at half past twelve and marched to within a mile of the ferry; halted in a valley out of sight of the river and of the river hills until 7:30 We were joined by Captain Gilmore, Lieutenant Abraham, and Lieutenant Fordyce with their excellent company of cavalry about 7 P. M. We marched to the ferry just at dark and were there joined by Companies B and F and by Lieutenant Croome with a squad of Captain McMullen's artillery company and one howitzer. We crossed New River on the flying bridge built by Captain Lane of the Eleventh. We had three loaded wagons and an ambulance. Four trips, fifteen minutes each, crossed us. At the Farms Road, five miles from the ferry, Company B, Captain Sperry, and Company I, Captain Warren, were detailed to take position to hold that road and prevent any enemy's force from coming into our rear.

Soon after passing the ferry, it was found that the road had in places been washed away, in others, filled by slides, and in others, cut into deep gullies. The waggons and ambulances were turned back; the column pushed on. Near Indian Creek, at Mrs. Fowler's, about 1:30 P. M. [A. M.], Captain Gilmore and myself with Captain Drake being in advance, we stopped and these officers and myself went in. Mrs. Fowler refused to get a light, saying she had none; refused to tell whether there was a man about the house; said she didn't know Mr. Caldwell and was very uncommunicative generally. She persisted in asking us who we were, what we wanted, and the like. Just as she had said there was no candle or light in the house, I struck a light with a match when we saw the candle she had blown out on going to bed not two yards off! It was lit and a man was discovered peeping through a door! We got from her the fact that no soldiers were at Indian Creek and very few at Red Sulphur or Peterstown.

I ordered the cavalry to push rapidly on to Mr. Caldwell's house, and bring off his wife and children on horseback. I rode back to the infantry and artillery and directed them to bivouac — to sleep on the ground. Lieutenant Hastings was officer of the guard. I told him he need station no pickets or guard! A year ago we camped our first night in Virginia. It was near Clarksburg in the midst of a Union region. No enemy anywhere near, and we had one hundred and sixteen men, on guard! My reason for not worrying anybody with guard duty was that our position was concealed; and as we had just taken it after a night march no one could know that we were there. The camp was inaccessible, by reason of [the] river on one side and impassable mountains on the other, except by the road up and down the river. [Companies] B and I were on this road at the first road leading into it, eight miles off, and the cavalry were passing up in the other direction. So I made up my mind that as I was not sleepy I would keep awake and would be guard enough. I lay down on an India-rubber blanket — my sheepskin for a pillow — with only an overcoat on, Dr. Joe sleeping by my side; and in this position where I could hear every sound, remained comfortable but watchful until morning. The stars disappeared towards morning, covered by fleecy clouds.

In the morning we, built fires, got warm coffee, and felt well; we were opposite Crump's Bottom. We hailed a man on the bank at Crump's and made him bring over a canoe, but learned little from him. About 5:30 the cavalry returned having Mrs. Caldwell and the children on their horses. We immediately set out on our return. The first eight miles in the cool of the morning was done in two and one-fourth hours; after that leisurely to the ferry. Six men of Company A waded New River near the mouth of Bluestone. A long, tedious wade they had of it. Stopped at the ferry two hours; men all had a good swim. Got back to camp here safe and sound. Cavalry marched almost fifty miles in about twelve hours; artillery with mountain howitzer twenty-five miles in nine hours' marching time and thirteen hours altogether; infantry thirty-six in fourteen hours' marching time and twenty hours altogether. A pretty jolly expedition! Horses fell down, men fell down; Caldwell got faint-hearted and wanted to give it up. Lieutenant Abraham was cowed and I sent him with the infantry to bivouac. As they returned, the cavalry took all of Mrs. Fowler's new blackberry wine and honey! All sorts of incidents; — funny good time.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 310-2

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney, Saturday, December 13, 1862

Marched at daylight. Had a cold ride, chilled through. Reached Twin Springs in time for supper, before dark. Slept soundly under tent. Rained a little during the night.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 49

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: Friday, November 21, 1862

Took three powders and at night had another chill. Drank some capsicum tea. Slept pretty well.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 44