Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, August 7, 1861

Camp Butler Sagamon County Ills.  Capt. Parkes Comp arrived at this place. Rec'd Tents Camp Equippage &c. Tents erected today.

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 223

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, July 31, 1861

On the 19th of June, 1861, the 5th Regiment of Wisconsin Vols., being partially organized, went into camp at Madison, Wis. Here it remained for a time, perfecting its organization, drilling and preparing itself for the hardships, the dangers, and the responsibilities to be encountered in the battle-field, against a people warlike and chivalric; a people who are taught to regard physical courage, and recklessness of physical danger, as the noblest qualities of the human race, and a people whose chief pride was to win in fight, whether with individuals or in masses; but a people, who, having entrusted their politics to professed politicians, were misled to believe that, by their brothers of the Northern States of this Union, their rights of property were invaded, and their homes were coveted as a prize for distribution amongst the overgrown population of the North. But to enter into a discussion of the merits of this rebellion, now devastating the most beautiful country known to man, carrying in its march a passover of beggary, of destitution, and of death, is not in accordance with the object of this little book. It is therefore passed over, that the reader may at once be permitted to enter into a detail of the subjects indicated in our preface.

From the time of the commencement of the rebellion, by actual war on Fort Sumter, in April of this year, its settlement by rapid and decisive victories over the rebels was subject of merriment, and looked on as matter of course. We were going to war with a people of not half our numbers, without money, without munitions of war, without navy, without anything in fine of those elements which go to make up the ensemble of a people powerful in war, and we were entering into the strife as a short interlude to the hum-drum vocations of life. "How could a people thus situated hope to compete with the parent Government, rich in every element which makes a great people?" This was the reasoning. In vain were our people told of the character of the Southerners. In vain were they referred to the results of our own rebellion and successful revolutionary war with England. "Oh!" was the reply, "Steamships were not known in those days, and England had to cross the ocean to fight us." "But Hungary, with its population of only 3,000,000, and without revenue, withstood the whole power of Austria, till the hordes of Russia had to be called in to aid in their subjugation." "But Austria had become a superannuated and feeble people." No reasoning would answer. The subjugation of the revolted States was to be a pastime, and could be nothing but a pastime. Thus went on matters, drilling as an amusement, preparatory to the enjoyment of a war, all the results of which were to be on our side, and obtained without sacrifice or suffering.

*          *          *          *          *          *

On the afternoon of the 21st July, 1861, the electric wires brought us the intelligence from Bull Run that our army was whipped, was routed, was scattered in flight. The heart of the whole North received a shock of sadness and of disappointment. Soldiers in camp began to realize that war meant work and danger, and the Regiment of which I was a member at once received orders to be in readiness to march at the earliest possible moment, to hurry to the aid of its companions

in arms. It was in sad plight for the exposures of camp life. ’Twas in the heat of summer, when fevers and diarrhoea prevail in their worst forms. The measles had broken out in camp, and one-third of the soldiers were suffering from disease of some kind. Nevertheless, active preparation went on, and on the fourth day after the receipt of the sad news the Regiment was on its way to battle.

On the 27th of July we reached Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and went into Camp Curtin. For months this had been a rendezvous for regiment after regiment. The grounds had not been cleaned—the weather was intensely hot, without a leaf to intercept the scorching rays of the sun. The stench of the camp was intolerable, and the sickness of the troops rapidly increased.¹

On the 29th of July, at night, we received orders to be ready to march at 3 o'clock next morning. Our destination was supposed to be Harper's Ferry, where we were at once to engage the enemy and to "wind up the war." So great was the excitement (these things were all new then) that very few laid down for rest during the night. At 3 A. M., of the 30th, all tents were struck and rolled up; mess chests were packed, and everyone ready for the order to move. But sunrise came and found us sitting on our packages. The day wore on, I think the hottest I ever experienced. The troops remained exposed to the broiling sun till 2 o'clock P. M., when we embarked on open platform cars, without seats, and without covering. We ran down through the city, crossed the Susquehannah Bridge, halted, and remained sitting or standing in the sun till evening. The heat of the day, determining the circulation to the skin, had brought out the eruption in many cases of measles, and the poor fellows had to sit and suffer, without a place to lie down, or even a back to lean against. At dusk we found ourselves again under way; ran down to York, Pa., about forty miles. It had now commenced raining, and the cars were run out from the depot, and the suffering men who had been all day washed with their own perspiration, were compelled to sit all night in the rain. Sick or well, 'twas all the same. None were permitted to leave the open cars and go back into the depot. Towards morning the rain stopped; the wind shifted suddenly to the Northwest, and it was cold as November. After the long tedious night of suffering, the morning came, and we ran down to Baltimore, arriving there at 8 o'clock on the morning of July 31st.

We had anticipated trouble here. We disembarked, marched with muskets loaded, and bayonets fixed, from north to south through the entire length of the city, without molestation, except from the scowls of secessionists, and the welcoming hurrahs of friends.² At the Camden Street depot we remained in the most uncomfortable condition which it is possible to conceive till sunset, when we were ordered for the twentieth time during the day to "fall in." We disembarked, marched about two and a half miles, and camped on an elevated ground to the north of, and overlooking a large part of the city and bay. The regiment did not get settled till midnight, and many were so exhausted that they threw themselves on the ground, with their clothes still wet from the previous night's rain. The medical department, however, succeeded by 10 o'clock in getting up tents to protect the sick, and they were made as comfortable as the circumstances would permit.

Here the regiment remained till the 8th of August, without any occurrences worthy of note, except that sickness continued to increase, and the knowledge I gained as to how little some military commanders cared for the comfort of their sick men. After we had been here five or six days, the Colonel was positively ignorant of the fact that we had a hospital on the ground, though there were three within fifty feet of his quarters, filled to their utmost capacity with the sick and suffering. I was now receiving but little support in my efforts for their health and comfort.

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¹ I made it my business to visit every tent twice a day, to see that they were thoroughly cleaned, and that the sides of the tent were raised so as freely to admit a current of air. But here the air without was so foul as to improve the condition inside but little. I will here say, however, that the Surgeon of a Regiment who does not visit every tent in his encampment at least once a day, to satisfy himself by personal inspection that it is thoroughly cleaned and ventilated, and that at least once a week the tents are all struck, and the sun admitted for several hours to the ground on which they stand, is not deserving of the position which he holds.

² Only two companies were armed. They were placed one in front, the other in the rear of the Regiment, and so marched through the city.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 5-9

Diary of Musician David Lane, September 27, 1862

Antietam, September 27th, 1862.

We have had one week of rest; are encamped three miles from our last battlefields, with a prospect of staying here several weeks. There is much sickness, but nothing of a serious nature. As for myself, I have not seen an hour's sickness since I left Michigan. Our camp is pleasantly situated on a high hill, and the surrounding hills and valleys are white with tents. In the evening, when every tent is lighted up, they present a brilliant and beautiful appearance. Several regiments are supplied with brass bands, which delight us every evening with a "concord of sweet sounds." Last evening the Fiftieth Pennsylvania serenaded the "Bloody Seventeenth," as they call us.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 14

Diary of Private Adam S. Johnston, October 4, 1861

Left Lancaster and got to Harrisburg the same day; drew our first tents and pitched them for the first time; drew our first blankets, stood our first sentinel beats around camp, and our first duty required. Making a march of 90 miles.

SOURCE: Adam S. Johnston, The Soldier Boy's Diary Book, p. 8-9

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop, May 3, 1864

In camp near Culpepper, Va.—Weather delightful. Rumors of marching tomorrow morning. Marching orders we have been expecting several days, but this is the first rumor for some time. It has been mysteriously quiet. If, instead of May and fine weather, we had had dead of winter, storm and mud, we would have been provoked with five or six rumors daily. So that's nothing; but we shall march soon. Usual drill forenoon and afternoon; march an hour under knapsack. Go to Culpepper with several for examination for commissions in negro regiments. At 5:30 o'clock drew one day's rations. This task is assigned me this week, for my company. At dark, orders for three days' more rations. Had a tedious task lasting until 9 p. m. Quartermaster is getting everything ready to leave and hinted we should move at 12 midnight. Got orders at 8 o'clock to strike tents, pack nothing unnecessary; build no fires. Everything soon ready; we are waiting, the boys are jolly, full of spirit. At 11 o'clock we marched—winter quarters again broken.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 22

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Wednesday, August 27, 1862

We received our socks, pants, drawers and shoes. Did not get our guns. We encamped in tents, ate our supper just at dark.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 3

Diary of Private Louis Leon: May 16, 1864

Left this morning at 11 in a tugboat, and from here packed into the Steamer S. R. Spaulding. We are now on our way to a regular prison. We got there at 8 o'clock to-night, and found it to be Point Lookout, Md., fifty miles from Belle Plain. It is in St. Mary's County. We were drawn up in line, searched for valuables, and they taken from us, and marched to prison, one mile from the landing. There are sixteen men in each tent.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 63

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Wednesday, February 12, 1862

The battalion met at Chestnut Mound again to drill, after which we scattered out to hunt lodging places for the night, for our company still had neither tents nor cooking vessels. Only about ninety-five of our battalion had returned to camps to date. In place of going on to Carthage, as we expected, Colonel Statham, being in front, turning to the left, moved his brigade down and went into camp on the east bank of Caney Fork River near Trousdale's Ferry.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 131-2

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Wednesday, August 21, 1861

The Twenty-eighth Pennsylvania received two guns for their own use. Signs of a demonstration show themselves this evening. All our baggage was sent off; the tents only left standing, ready to be burnt in case we had to leave.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 17

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Wednesday, June 19, 1861

Embarkation of the Second Battery on the steamer Kill Von Kull, and of the Second Rhode Island Infantry, on the State of Maine.

Early in the morning the tents were struck, everything packed up, order was given to mount, and by nine o'clock we commenced our march through Westminster street; from thence, through South Main street, to India Point, where the steamers lay, and started by about four o'clock in the afternoon. The docks were crowded immensely during the day; the fair sex, especially, was strongly represented. Amid the pealing of cannon and the farewell cheers of the multitude, we gradually distanced the shore. Those present will well remember that memorable day. Gov. Sprague and the patriotic Bishop Clark accompanied the Second Regiment, infantry, on the State of Maine. On our approaching Fort Adams, we were saluted by the artillery there. By nightfall, we were made acquainted with the first government ration—pilot bread, the so-called salt-junk, and a cup of coffee. The meat was of a rather poor quality, although it was served out with good grace by our respected captain, W. H. Reynolds.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 6

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, January 5, 1863

Yesterday being Sunday, and no enemy appearing, we had a day of comparative rest. In the morning we were marched into town for fear the Yankees might return and attempt to land under cover of their gunboats, but five minutes after our arrival we were about-faced and moved back to camps. The day was spent in drying clothes, cleaning guns, and setting tents. The cooking is an easy job with us here, as our ration consists only of musty meal and poor, tough beef. I obtained permission this morning to go to town, and while there learned that the regiment was coming in to take a boat for Port Hudson. I write this entry on the top of the wheel-house of the "Charm," waiting for her to start.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 18

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, January 13, 1863

Yesterday we had nothing to do, and spent the day writing letters to friends and relatives at home. In the afternoon had some little excitement over a report that the small-pox was in our regiment, and that we would be sent several miles away from other camps and put in quarantine. I paid but little attention to it at first, thinking it originated as camp rumors generally do, but early this morning orders came to tear down and pack up tents and other baggage, and we were soon on the march.

The report was but too true; four or five cases of small-pox have been taken from our regiment, and we are now in quarantine, four miles from our camp of yesterday. No new cases reported to-day. We are now encamped in the midst of a magnolia forest, entirely away from any habitation, and are confined to a certain limit, beyond which we dare not go, and inside of which no one is allowed to come.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 19-20

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, May 27, 1863

May 27.

We are being greatly washed in the rainy season. Fortunately our tents are all raised eighteen inches from the ground and pitched on solid floors of faced pine logs. It is not easy to procure boards here and these logs do just as well. The men cover the floor with pine needles and sleep after the same fashion that I do. The camp has a most picturesque look. Each row of tents has its long piazza roof of pine boughs under which the men sit more contentedly than would be possible for Yankees.

I am getting excessively proud of the physical condition of our regiment. Since we came out here we have enlisted nearly a hundred good, able-bodied men, and discharged about thirty from the service. General Hunter has just issued very good sanitary orders for encampments during the summer. We had anticipated the more important of them.

Yesterday Reb and I found shelter from a great rain, where I saw only an old, gray-headed woman whose name was Rose. I found that she and her old husband and sister were benevolently left for the Yankees, while the younger members were saved from us by the master. The old woman did not murmur at her fate, and when I said: "You must have found it easier to live in slavery with your children and grandchildren than living alone in freedom" she replied: "Yes, Marse, but we lub de freedom better dan dat, an' we rudder lib here all alone dan be in slavery. Dey can no mo' sell we." I never hear that word sell pronounced by these people without a thrill of horror.

I don't remember whether I have written about the wonderful persistency of these people when once fully determined to accomplish a thing. You all know what they have gone through to gain freedom, and can easily imagine some of them capable of equal pertinacity for less worthy objects. I have noticed that when one of them fully makes up his mind to get discharged from the service on the ground of disability, there are but two ways to act in the matter. If there be real ground for his complaint, give him papers at once, but if not, pile his falsehoods upon him so crushingly that he at once feels there is no possible hope of deceiving you. Such cases are rare, but they occur; and some of our best soldiers today are men who were put into the guardhouse for trying to deceive me. I only wonder that with the accursed teaching of their masters they do not oftener attempt this thing. If, under such circumstances, I am more severe with them than another would be, I never doubt the Lord will bear in mind that my heart is intent on full justice for them. I find my hatred of slop philanthropy deepened by living with these intensely human children. While I reverence them more and more, I am more and more convinced that Robert Sutton and Prince Rivers were in the right when they said at Alberti's Mills: "That man don't know what is good for him. You know that freedom is better dan slavery for him and you ought to force him to go away wid us." The most intelligent men in our regiment urge the policy of conscription on the same ground, and that it will give them a "chance to get sense." I said to Uncle York, just now, when he came into my den to see that the fire "keep blazin"; "Uncle, if you had not a wife in secesh I might want you to go home with me when the war is over." Then he told me that he had been twice back to Darien for his wife, once on a gun-boat and once at the imminent risk of losing his life, but that she each time had refused to come away, and that he would like to remain forever with me. She is a second wife and much younger than he. The last time he went for her he brought off several fugitives. He closed his narrative as follows: "So I got some sheepskin to muffle de oar, an de moon was berry shine an when at las' we done got by de danger, I whoop, an de master ob de gun boat Paul Jones say 'Come on,' an den I make de rowers raise a sing."

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 393-4

Diary of Private Louis Leon: September 18, 1863

Raining hard all day, and no tents. Left camp at 2 in the afternoon, marched six miles, halted at the river, and our regiment went on picket. It is still raining very hard, and we are as wet as drowned cats, and cold, too, for we cannot make a fire in front of the enemy. If we did they would have a good mark to shoot at.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 48

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, April 3, 1863

April 3.

You would laugh to see me tonight in this naked, floorless tent, without fire, the rain pouring upon my canvass roof and my candle flickering in the wind. During our absence the new regiment took our tent floors and we are on the sand. These drafted men are merged into the second regiment. I shall be delighted if the surgeon of that regiment ever makes his appearance. Dr. Hawks is one of the examiners of the exempts and as all have to be cared for, we three have quite enough to do. Dr. Minor looks fatigued and it would not surprise me if he should have to haul off for rest. Everybody loves him.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 385

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Friday, December 4, 1863

All still to-day; a dull monotony in camp. The Seventh are now making shelter out of rails and their oil cloths, and what few boards they can gather up; no tents; on duty every day, scouting and running everywhere. This evening a call is made upon the different companies for twenty volunteers to carry dispatches one hundred miles across the country to Eastport, Tennessee River. To be relieved from the camp's dull life, we conclude to be one of the number. The remaining nineteen soon report. About nine o'clock p, M., we leave Pulaski under the command of Lieutenant Roberts, of Company C. We travel until four o'clock in the morning, when we halt at a plantation, feed and get our breakfast, prepared by the negroes. At daylight we move on, pass through Waynesboro, and go as far as Pin Hook, where we go into camp for the night.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 212

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, February 28, 1863

February 28.

I keep a blazing fire in my tent about half the time, these hot, humid days, to keep myself from moulding alive. It requires a high pressure of vitality to push off these damps as they crowd in upon me here. Yet I have found only three cases of tubercular disease among our soldiers. Considering the fact that they were recruited without much regard to physical ability, I think this freedom from scrofulous disease remarkable.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 368

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, May 16, 1862

Near Fredericksburg, Va.,        

May 16, 1862.

I arrived here this morning about ten o'clock. My trip was all very pleasant, except when I passed through Petersburg and Richmond both those places are so crowded. The citizens of the latter place are greatly alarmed for fear their city will be captured.

We are close to the enemy now, but there is no certainty of our having a big fight soon. Captain Hunt's men shot at the Yankees this morning while on picket duty. The report about our losing ten men is true. The Yankee cavalry came across the Rappahannock River and captured them.

Our regiment moved after I arrived to-day and we are now near Summit station in a place where the chinquapin bushes are very thick.

The regiments are moved every two or three days to give them practice in moving quickly. All the tents have been taken away from the men, and that, together with the change of climate from the coast of South Carolina to this place, has caused much sickness in our regiment. I will sleep in the medicine tent, a very comfortable place.

It is bedtime now. I will try to write you a longer letter next time. The thought of you and our little George makes me happy, even though I am away off here in Old Virginia.

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 9-10

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, August 24, 1862

Culpeper County, Va.,        

August 24, 1862.

Our army pursued Pope's to this place last week. We are now on the west side of North Fork of the Rappahannock River, while Pope is on the other side. Each army is trying to get the advantage of the other, and it is difficult for either to cross the river while the other opposes it. It is evident that we shall have a tremendous fight in a few days. General Lee is here with us, for I saw him pass by. We have just cooked up two days' rations and are expecting every minute to leave here.

I saw a pretty little fight a few days ago when I was far in the rear with the ambulance train, and it was by the merest chance that the train was not cut off from the main force and captured. General Hood with his staff was reconnoitering, and was fired upon by the Yankees, who were under the cover of some woods a little distance from the road. A Texas brigade happened to be passing and was sent against them, and whipped them badly.

There has been quite an amount of rain recently, but we have no tents, nor even anything in the shape of tents.

I have a chance to send this to Gordonsville, and as the bearer is about to leave I must close. I could write you a long letter if I had time, so good-by for now.

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 21-2

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Monday, November 25, 1861

It was now very cold, and the ground was frozen hard all day, in consequence of which our wagon train did not get as far as Jamestown. In place of moving with his train, or at least going no further than it could go over the frozen roads, McNairy pressed on through Jamestown, down Cumberland Mountain to Camp McGinnison Wolf River—a march of about a thirty-one miles. The result was his men were without tents and rations one very cold night, and until late in the afternoon the next day.* The following explains itself:

HEADQUARTERS,        

KNOXVILLE, November 26, 1861.

Hon. J. P. Benjamin, Secretary of Ilar:

Sir-I have the honor to report that I arrived here on Saturday last, by order of General Zollicoffer, and assumed command of this post on Sunday. I found stationed here Colonel Wood's Battalion and several companies of infantry and cavalry.

. . . There are now in custody here about seventy persons, many of whom, it is believed, were either directly or indirectly connected with the burning of the railroad bridges. Colonel Wood (Sixteenth Alabama), who was in command here before my arrival, had in contemplation a court-martial for the trial of those upon whom proof of guilt seemed to be strong. I concurred with him, and ordered the meeting on the 28th. . . .

It is important that steam power should be secured for the purpose of driving the machinery necessary in the alterations of arms. I therefore took possession of the printing establishment of Brownlow. The steam engine and building are suitable for our purposes, and it was the only one that could be procured here.

Brownlow has left, and no certain information of his whereabouts can be obtained. It is, however, certain that he is aiding and abetting our enemies. . . .

With high respect, your obedient servant,

WM. H. CARROLL,        

Brigadier-General Commanding.1

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* As I was just out of a spell of fever, I did not wish to take the frozen ground that night without even a tent for shelter, so I rode over to my friend Lathan's, with whom I staid while sick of the measles in September (about one mile from Camp McGinnis), to see if I could get to lodge with him another night. As I neared his house, and before I saw him, he called out, “Yes, you may get down.” I yet feel grateful to Mr. Lathan for the comforts of that night.

1 Rebellion Records, Vol. VII., pp. 704 and 705.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 84-5