Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Between September 2 & 20, 1861

On the morning of the 2nd, with every man a knapsack, haversack and canteen—and these filled to overflowing, the Seventh, for the first time in its history, took up the line of march, under command of Major Rowett, Colonel Cook being in command of the brigade, and Lieutenant Colonel Babcock absent in Illinois. The spirits of the men run high—they expected every moment to be rushed into battle; but how sadly were they disappointed. For days and nights we followed Prentiss in the pursuit of Jeff. Thompson; marching over rocks and hills, passing through Booneville, Fredrickton and Jackson, to Cape Girardeau, where we go into camp in the field to the rear of the town, thus ending our bloodless Missouri expedition. No Jeff. Thompson—no rebels could be found, all having made their exit far away over the mountains. Though it was a hard march, causing the weary, foot-sore soldiers to fall oft times by the way, the Seventh as a whole, enjoyed it well, and they will not soon forget the bountiful barn-yards they so frequently made descents upon, leaving nothing behind but geese- and chicken-heads to rehearse the story. I was much amused one evening by hearing an officer tell some of the men that over beyond that hill, about one mile, was a barn full of chickens, “and the first soldier who molested them he would buck and gag.” By a quick wink of the eye, the boys were made to understand him, and around the camp-fires these men sat that night eating their supper and laughing most heartily, for we noticed that they were masticating some old fat hens. Of course the officer's orders were against all depredations, but orders were sometimes accompanied with a wink, which the men always watched for. If none accompanied the orders they always understood what was meant.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 14-5

Major-General Henry W. Halleck to Major-General Ulysses S. Grant, March 13, 1862

SAINT LOUIS, March 13, 1862.

Maj. Gen. U.S. GRANT, Fort Henry:

You cannot be relieved from your command. There is no good reason for it. I am certain that all which the authorities at Washington ask is that you enforce discipline and punish the disorderly. The power is in your hands; use it, and you will be sustained by all above you. Instead of relieving you, I wish you as soon as your new army is in the field to assume the immediate command and lead it on to new victories.

H. W. HALLECK,    

Major-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 10, Part 2 (Serial No. 11), p. 32-3

Captain Charles Wright Wills: May 1, 1864

May 1st, 1864.

Bivouac at Mud Creek. Up at daylight, and off on time. 6 a. m. The camp was full of citizens early, all after our leavings. The way they did snatch for old clothes was far from slow. They actually stole lots of trash right under the noses of the soldier owners. Out “jayhawking” old jayhawk himself. Started off in best of spirits — men cheering right from their hearts. About two miles out on the road, General Harrow and staff passed us. The men not having the fear of “guard house” in their minds, yelled at him, “Bring out your Potomac horse,” “Fall back on your straw and fresh butter,” “Advance on Washington,” etc., all of which counts as quite a serious offense, but he paid no attention to it. You recollect he is from the Potomac Army. The first expression comes from a punishment he inaugurated in our division. He put up a wooden horse in front of his quarters, and mounted on it all the offenders against discipline that he could “gobble.” Some waggish fellows wrote out some highly displayed advertisements of the “Potomac horse” and posted them throughout the camp, and finally one night the men took it down and sent it on the cars to Huntsville, directed to McPherson, with a note tacked on it, telling him to furnish him plenty of straw and use him carefully, as he was Potomac stock and unused to hardships.

We only marched some ten miles to-day and have a splendid camping ground. Have had a wash in a mill race near by.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 231-2

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: September 2, 1863

Aroused at 2 A. M., in readiness for a fight. Got breakfast, fed and moved at 6 o'clock. General order from Burnside saying that any man guilty of stealing, robbing or pillaging should be stripped of clothes, flogged, head shaved, branded with letter T. and drummed out of service. Marched to Lenoir. Then artillery opened up at London and we took the trot for 5 miles. 2nd Tenn. attacked rebels. They burned the bridge and retreated. We too late. An order to scout. Alarm that rebels were crossing. Went swimming in Tenn. River. Half a mile wide. Current swift and water clear. Went to London bridge. Found 45th Ohio there. Took the company up there and showed the breastworks, good fortifications. Rifle pits and acres of trees cut down. Discovered nothing unusual.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 86

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Tuesday, August 5, 1862

Target practice continues. I did a thing that worried me this A. M. I saw two soldiers sitting on post. It was contrary to orders. I directed that they should carry knapsacks one hour. I do not often punish. They turned out to be two good quiet soldiers. But the order was given before I knew who they were. One of them felt badly, wanted to be excused; but the order was out and I had it executed. I trust it will cure the evil. . . .

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 315

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney, Saturday, December 6, 1862

Up at 3 A. M. and off at daylight as usual. Reached Neosho at 8 P. M. Charlie and I got supper at a private house, secesh. Got into a little fuss with Mart Cole in regard to forage. He pushed me off the wagon and I reported him. He was tied up to a tree for an hour. The Major asked me why I did not knock him down. Afterwards I was put under arrest for investigation.

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

Diary of 1st Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Saturday, April 22, 1865

Quiet all night, a little shower about Midnight. As I was not notified that we would march today lay in bed until late. Our Nigger Charlie brought breakfast for me which I greatly relished. It is talked that this is about the only place on the river the jonnies could bring guns to bear on transports & is to be fortified & held by a garrison a gunboat lies in the river here & I hear that 5 more are 5 miles above. I am relieved & return to camp at 11. a m after dinner Lt Loughridge & I walk to the river about ¼ mile from camp. The bank a very steep bluff 50 ft high, on the bank a good & large frame house splendidly furnished & the folks at home. I hear the man is a parolled prisoner from Lees army. I understand that there are two cuts off one about 3 miles & the other about 10 or 15 miles above here & that it is the object to go above these & plant guns large enough to keep the Reb fleet which is above from coming down. Patrolls arrest quite a no of men for foraging and more fore nothing, march them to Div Hd Quarters, all punished alike riding a wooden horse, a beautiful day but Evening somewhat cool, a negro dance in the battery near by. Amusing.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 594

Diary of 1st Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Sunday, April 16, 1865

Spend most of this day writing have a little difficulty in co. col Mackey orders me to tie one of my men for refusing to clean his gun which he brought on inspection dirty. Dick Tol heads a party to cut him loose & is arrested by the col & sent under guard to the Provost Martial to await trial for Mutiny. I prefer charges. &c This P. M Genl Canby sends arond a circular that he has official notice that Genl Lee has surrendered his entire army to Grant. The Chaplain deliver a sermon in camp this evening. Reported that money to pay this army is on the way. see quite a no of ladies promenading today but do not go out of camp to look arond.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 592

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Friday, July 4, 1862

Flat Top. — A fine day. No demonstrations in camp except a National salute and a little drunkenness. Quietness of the Sabbath reigned.

The Commercial of the first puts a different face on the news of McClellan's recent movements near Richmond. The change of position seems to have been well planned — a wise change — and it is not certain that any disaster befell us during its execution. There was fierce fighting and heavy loss, but it is quite possible that the enemy suffered more than we did.

My orderly, Gray, good old veteran Irish soldier, “drunk and disorderly” yesterday. All right; he shall be released today.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 296

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: November 28, 1863

Very cold and men suffer terribly with hardly any clothing on some of them. A man taken outside to-day, bucked and gagged for talking with a guard; a severe punishment this very cold weather.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 14

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: Friday, September 5, 1862

Went down to the river and washed. Charlie and Delos came up with a letter from Fred Allen, good. Proposed a plan for celebrating C's birthday. Report about camp that N. and M. were to be married. Rode to town. Went and saw some miscellaneous horses. Went to the hospital and saw Merrick and Lewis Emmons. Came back to camp in the rain. Sandy in the guardhouse for insolence. Got supper.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 30

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 23, 1862

The cars which came in from the North last night brought a great many women, children, and negroes from Fredericksburg and its vicinity. The benevolent and patriotic citizens here had, I believe, made some provision for their accommodation. But the enemy had not yet shelled the town.

There is a rumor that Jackson was to appear somewhere in the rear of the enemy, and that the Federal stores which could not be moved with the army had been burnt at Manassas.

Yesterday the President remitted the sentence of a poor lad, sentenced to ball-and-chain for six months, for cowardice, etc. He had endured the penalty three months. I like this act, for the boy had enlisted without the consent of his parents, and was only sixteen years of age.

J. R. Anderson & Co. (having drawn $500,000 recently on the contract) have failed to furnish armor for the gun-boats — the excuse being that iron could not be had for their rolling-mills. The President has ordered the Secretaries of the Navy and War to consult on the propriety of taking railroad iron, on certain tracks, for that purpose.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 195

Diary of 4th Sergeant John S. Morgan: Sabbath, June 21, 1863

At 10. A. M. raines spoiled inspection. P. M. 3 gunboats and 5 transport conveying stores and wagons below. ––– in 35, Mo. men would not take knapsacks on picket one man struck by off day who died. Man in 29th tied to post for not putting on cap for fatigue duty.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 7, January 1923, p. 491

Diary of 4th Sergeant John S. Morgan: Monday, June 22, 1863

Man of 29. still tied to his post, near a mutiny in the regt on his acct. News Negly whips Jonston. Grant holds Vicksburg where stands courthouse.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 7, January 1923, p. 491

Major Wilder Dwight: December 15, 1861

camp Hicks, Near Frederick, December 15, 1861.

Another bright, sunny Sunday; the regiment growing in grace, favor, and winter quarters. The band has got its new instruments, and has been piping melodiously in the moonlight this evening. The instruments are very fine indeed. . . . .

To-morrow morning our brigade is to be reviewed by General –––. Napoleon, as the newspapers are fond of saying, used to precede his great battles and important movements by grand reviews. General ––– is not Napoleon. Voilà tout.

The Colonel, since we got into this new camp, has been doing a good deal of “rampaging,” and with excellent effect. I think I never saw the regiment in better condition. The relaxed discipline consequent on sickness and the march has recovered its tone completely. We have had a court-martial sitting for several days, and the men have been very generally and impartially punished in their pay. This is good economy for the government, and a sharp lesson for the men. Each of the divisional departments — the commissary, the quartermaster, the medical — are lame and impotent.

What do you say to the fact that, but for the activity and outside zeal of our quartermaster, we should be in rags?

The division takes no care of us; we go to head-quarters at Washington, and take care of ourselves. We go to Washington; but the theory and duty is, that everything comes to us through the division department here.

This has never been true, and, as I said, but for our irregular and enterprising expeditions to Washington, there is little we could get for ourselves. Again, what do you say to the fact that to-day, but for the activity of officers outside of the medical department, and but for their spending money saved from other sources, our hospital tent would be floorless, storeless, and flung to the breeze? Now, however, it has a nice floor, good bunks, and a warm, cheerful stove; and, yesterday morning, at inspection, looked as neat and comfortable as your parlor. No thanks, however, to the medical men. The division medical director don't know to-day that our typhoid-fever patients are not basking in precarious sunshine on the bosom — the cold, chaste bosom — of unnatural Mother Earth, after a sleepless night in the pale shadows of the moon!! To be sure, he guesses that the Second Massachusetts Regiment will take care of itself; but while they are issuing stoves, &c., at Washington, we are buying them for ourselves here.

Again, a brisk little stove is humming in almost every tent of the companies; many of the tents are floored: all this, however, with our own money, — individual, regimental enterprise, not divisional or departmental care. Such is the picture we present. Add to this that all this outlay and endeavor is adventured by us in the face of a blank uncertainty of the future, an utter darkness, an outer darkness, as to whether we are here for a day or for all time, and you have a position that would arouse complaint, if we allowed ourselves to grumble. We have no hint from head-quarters to guide us. We have been here nearly two weeks: perhaps we shall get advice when we have finished our action. Advice to act on is what we want. Head, control, direction, will, organization, is what we miss. I speak only of the sphere in which we move, of this department. It is a part of McClellan's army, however, and, as such, is entitled to better guidance. I do not put the fault on General Banks, but on the crippled condition in which his staff and departments are kept. Of this, however, I am not in a position to be an observer or a judge. I can speak only of the results which I see. There is no reason why I should harp on this theme, however. We get on finely, only I like to make it understood that we do so over obstacles. This is natural, I suppose.

When I hear, too, all this talk about a “grand army,” “the splendid spectacle our country presents,” &c., &c. “what a terror we should be to England,” “how ready we are for war,” I know that it is the nonsense of ignorance that men are talking. “Clear your mind of cant,” says Dr. Johnson.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 172-4

Major Wilder Dwight: September 4, 1861

pleasant Hill, Camp Near Darnestown,

September 4, 1861.

A picture! Life is but a series of them. Stand on a hill just above the creek. Let Major-General Banks, with all his unwon, untried, not to say uncomfortable or unfit, glories, be by your side. It is evening; you are at headquarters. The General will say, in full, deep tones, “A fine sight, Madam.” You will have anticipated his platitude; for you will find your eye filled with blazing camp-fires and bright-lighted tents, on every hillside within the circle of which you are a centre. Your ear will listen to the bands playing in every camp. The distance softens and harmonizes their discords. You have seen the camps at evening.

A night's rest under the tent, with two blankets and a bundle of straw extemporized into a bed, is a second picture. Your dream is interrupted by a clang of kettle and bass drums. It is the infernal reveillé of the Indiana Twelfth. Presently you hear a clear rattle and shrill fife, and recognize the reveillé of the drum-major of the Massachusetts Second. Follow it with your ear. You will see how it is measured. A little practice teaches the soldier at what point to open his eyes, when to throw back his blanket, and, at the moment, he is in ranks at the last ruffle of the drum. Regiments are known by their reveillés, you may say. But if you have obeyed the call, you will be looking upon the camps in the first glimmering of sunrise. You will glance at the old moon, in its second childhood almost as graceful as its first. You will see the men swarming from their tents into ranks. In half an hour the hills are alive with moving columns, and you are watching the morning drill.

It is afternoon. You have come to visit the camp of the Massachusetts Second. The General had at once pointed it out last evening. You then admired the regularity of its form. You now admire the neatness and order that you find within.

You go out in front and look over at the opposite hill, where the Regiment is in camp. The officer of the day in our camp is administering a punishment. The court-martial had sentenced a

drunken and insubordinate fellow to be tied to a tree for one hour three successive days. There he is tied. The Regiment catch sight of him. At once, in a disorderly mob, they rush to the edge of their hill. They cry, “Cut him down!” they groan and yell against us. Our guard is called out. Their officers cannot restore order, though they succeed in keeping their men within their lines. The punishment is concluded. Not a man in our lines stirs or speaks. You have contrasted the discipline of the two regiments. You have seen pictures enough, because you want to hear more of this one. Colonel Gordon, as Acting Brigadier, directs the arrest of the ringleaders of the Regiment, and of their officer of the day. The next morning, to wit, yesterday, the 3d September, Colonel comes to ask that the man may be tied somewhere where the regiment which he is commanded by cannot see him. Colonel Gordon says, No. General Banks, on being consulted by Colonel Gordon, directs him to go on. “Discipline must be maintained,” says the General. Colonel then goes to General Banks, and, by what persuasion we know not, wheedles out of him a recommendation to Colonel Gordon that the punishment be inflicted with less “publicity.” This recommendation comes just before the time for the punishment. General Banks cannot be found in season to give any explanation of his written recommendation. Colonel Gordon makes up his mind to tie the man in the same place and in the same way, come what may. It is done without trouble. But the recommendation from head-quarters has shaken our confidence. This illustrates the difficulties under which discipline is maintained. We are the only regiment that attempts it, and even the officers among our neighbors discountenance the severity which alone insures our discipline. But our men are getting, every day, a better tone. They pride themselves on the obvious contrast between their regiment and the others. They submit to the rules out of which this contrast comes. But the fact that the other regiments do as they please aggravates our difficulties and endangers our success. We are beginning to long for the direct command of McClellan, who would sustain our system without fear, favor, or affection. A political education does not favor the direct disregard of consequences which belongs to military command. Yet I do not wish to complain of General Banks. I think he means well, but I fear that he lacks a little either of education or confidence to push things through.

I have been working away at the deficiencies of our commissariat. I do not hesitate to say that its condition is disgraceful. No organization, and not even accidental and disproportioned abundance, in any direction. A general short commons. This we hope to remedy. But I do not make much progress. In fact, General Banks's division is not officered in the Quartermaster and Subsistence Departments as it should be. But enough of this. We are getting on well, and I only grumble because we might do so much better. To-day, again, the man shall be tied to the tree.

Yesterday morning we had a visit from General Reed, Albert Brown, the Governor's Secretary, and Mr. Dalton, the Massachusetts Agent. They seemed pleased with what they saw. But they only made a flying visit. They brought no news from home, but they brought the tale of Butler's achievement. “That's the talk,” say I. “Give ’em unexpected droppings in all along shore. Scatter them with vague dread. Make 'em constantly ask, ‘What’ll come next ?’” General Butler is in luck. He hasn't got a big lamp, but he brings it out after dark. In the night that surrounded Washington in April, he appeared with his farthing candle: men thought it a sun! Now, again, when the public longs for a glimmer of achievement, he strikes a light, and men are dazzled by even so small a blaze. Verily, opportunity has served him. But the move is in the right direction, and I applaud vehemently. I am just informed that the mail goes immediately, and must close my letter. We hear of a large mail on its way from Washington, and hope to get it to-morrow. It is nearly a week since I had a letter; but if men will go to Darnestown they must take the consequences. Love to all.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 92-5

Major Wilder Dwight: Friday, August 23, 1861

Buckeyestown, August 23, 1861, Friday, in Camp.

I began a letter before breakfast this morning, but my pen dragged so that I tore it up. Now I have a short time, and perhaps not a long story, but certainly a good breakfast to tell it on. And this same matter of a good breakfast is not a small one. The foraging on a march is not easy. Chickens and eggs and bread and butter and milk, &c, all have to be extemporized by our darkies, as we go along. Sometimes we do well; sometimes, badly. This morning, being bent on eggs, I sent my little English groom off on horseback. He went to a farm-house, into a hen-yard, and waited for cackling. Presently he returned, and said : “I've an egg for ye, sir. I waited till the hen laid it, and then brought the hen and the egg.” That is close work, I think.

I sent you a letter Wednesday morning. Immediately after came marching orders. I hurried off on horseback to call in our scattered forces. First, I went to Harper's Ferry, and found Colonel Andrews destroying our friend Herr's mill. Herr was very sombre. His little boy, with whom I have a friendship, rushed up to me, and said chokingly: “It is too bad to destroy the mill; but it's the secessionists that's the cause of it, isn't it, Major?” I told him, Yes. Andrews was breaking the buckets of the turbine wheel, and smashing the gearing of the mill. He had Company A, from Lowell, who are the mechanics of our regiment. He was sorry to be interrupted, but there was no remedy, and so off he came.

Then I went back and off on to Battery Hill to get the artillery off; then again to recall an outlying picket on top of the mountain; then galloped back to camp to see about rations; then, at last, the regiment got in marching array. The day was bright and cool, — the regiment moved off at twelve o'clock. Hard bread in haversacks, and hoping for something better. Money in pocket, and, 1 am sorry to say, an occasional excess of whiskey in a guilty canteen. Pay-day has its evils, as I thought when directing two drunken men to be tied and put in a wagon.

We made a brisk march of twelve miles to Jefferson. There we spent the night. The next morning, after a tedious delay in a depressing rain to get our wagons mended, we again moved on up, up, up a long hill in a close, muggy dog-day. The men's knapsacks pulled on them, and when we came on to our present camping-ground, at four o'clock, there was a long trail of lame ducks behind. They soon came in, and now are looking forward to another tramp.

The panic-stricken women and children pursued us, as we came away from Harper's Ferry, not daring to remain without our protection. The Rebels are foraging all through the country there; but nothing more than that appears to be done anywhere, though rumor is trumpet-tongued with reports of armies large enough to conquer the hemisphere. Mark my prophecy. Beauregard lacks transportation. He cannot move one hundred thousand men across the Potomac. This has prevented and will prevent his active operations. But it is not improbable that there will be skirmishes along the river.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 81-2

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 13, 1862

Halcott Green came to see us. Bragg is a stern disciplinarian, according to Halcott. He did not in the least understand citizen soldiers. In the retreat from Shiloh he ordered that not a gun should be fired. A soldier shot a chicken, and then the soldier was shot. “For a chicken!” said Halcott. “A Confederate soldier for a chicken!”

Mrs. McCord says a nurse, who is also a beauty, had better leave her beauty with her cloak and hat at the door. One lovely lady nurse said to a rough old soldier, whose wound could not have been dangerous, “Well, my good soul, what can I do for you?” “Kiss me!” said he. Mrs. McCord's fury was “at the woman's telling it,” for it brought her hospital into disrepute, and very properly. She knew there were women who would boast of an insult if it ministered to their vanity. She wanted nurses to come dressed as nurses, as Sisters of Charity, and not as fine ladies. Then there would be no trouble. When she saw them coming in angel sleeves, displaying all their white arms and in their muslin, showing all their beautiful white shoulders and throats, she felt disposed to order them off the premises. That was no proper costume for a nurse. Mrs. Bartow goes in her widow's weeds, which is after Mrs. McCord's own heart. But Mrs. Bartow has her stories, too. A surgeon said to her, “I give you no detailed instructions: a mother necessarily is a nurse.” She then passed on quietly, “as smilingly acquiescent, my dear, as if I had ever been a mother.”

Mrs. Greenhow has enlightened Rachel Lyons as to Mr. Chesnut's character in Washington. He was “one of the very few men of whom there was not a word of scandal spoken. I do not believe, my dear, that he ever spoke to a woman there.” He did know Mrs. John R. Thompson, however.

Walked up and down the college campus with Mrs. McCord. The buildings all lit up with gas, the soldiers seated under the elms in every direction, and in every stage of convalescence. Through the open windows, could see the nurses flitting about. It was a strange, weird scene. Walked home with Mrs. Bartow. We stopped at Judge Carroll's. Mrs. Carroll gave us a cup of tea. When we got home, found the Prestons had called for me to dine at their house to meet General Magruder.

Last night the Edgefield Band serenaded Governor Pickens. Mrs. Harris stepped on the porch and sang the Marseillaise for them. It has been more than twenty years since I first heard her voice; it was a very fine one then, but there is nothing which the tooth of time lacerates more cruelly than the singing voice of women. There is an incongruous metaphor for you.

The negroes on the coast received the Rutledge's Mounted Rifles apparently with great rejoicings. The troops were gratified to find the negroes in such a friendly state of mind. One servant whispered to his master, “Don't you mind ’em, don't trust ’em” — meaning the negroes. The master then dressed himself as a Federal officer and went down to a negro quarter. The very first greeting was, “Ki! massa, you come fuh ketch rebels? We kin show you way you kin ketch thirty to-night.” They took him to the Confederate camp, or pointed it out, and then added for his edification, “We kin ketch officer fuh you whenever you want ’em.”

Bad news. Gunboats have passed Vicksburg. The Yankees are spreading themselves over our fair Southern land like red ants.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 203-5

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, June 3, 1863

Camp Brightwood, June 3, 1863.

The change from the camp to the field (we are now, so far as work and life go, to be counted in the field, though there seems to me a good deal of “sham” about it) is a very critical one for a regiment, it is so important to start picket duty aright, so hard to make men understand that the only way to keep tolerably clean is to keep perfectly clean, so hard to get new officers to keep the proper line between their men and themselves. I am going to try the experiment, too, of taking off my camp guard and giving my “pet lambs” a chance to wander where they please, — punishing them, of course, if found outside of camp. I am not sure how it will work.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 252-3

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, Friday, October 10, 1864

October 10, 1864

General Humphreys deserted us to-night, for a brief leave — no, of course I mean he went early this morning, having taken his breakfast before us. The good General is fond of sitting awhile and talking after meals. He discourses sometimes on the art military and said it was “a godlike occupation”! “Ah,” he said, “war is a very bad thing in the sequel, but before and during a battle it is a fine thing!” (Note by T. L. — I don't see it.) The Commander has been death on riding round lately on his jog-trotter, to inspect and mouse over works. He is mighty smart at such things, and if a line is run fifty feet out of position, he sees it like a flash. It is very creditable to our engineers, that, though a part of our works were laid out after dark, no corrections have been made in the general position. I had the honor to follow George about, as he rode round the country. In the camps, one sees the modes of punishment adopted. One ingenious Colonel had erected a horizontal bar, about a dozen feet from the ground, and supported at each end by a post. On this elevated perch he causes malefactors to sit all the day long, to their great discomfort and repentance. In the 9th Corps, they had put some barrels on the breastworks, and, on these high pedestals, made the men stand. They had run away in the fight and had great placards of “Coward” on them. A pretty severe punishment if they had any shame left. This is a grubby little letter, for my tent has been invaded by various silly, chattering, idle officers.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 243