Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop, Sunday, August 21, 1864

WOMEN PRISONERS.—PROVIDENCE SPRING.

Rainy. A man with gray hair has just died within six feet of us; another is dying within twenty; another within forty. The dead are almost continually being borne past, more than usual today. We walk, sleep, eat and drink among sick, dying, dead. We pass them on our way, meet them sinking with fell disease, turn to pity, but languishing with weakness bethink ourselves; shut sympathy in our breasts; nerve ourselves, pass on.

Of our detachment of 270 but 123 are able today to appear in line. Any man able to be about can consume the day's ration at once. Man never looked on scenes more horrible! Oh, God, assist us; on thee alone our hopes must rest for strength!

I saw by a Rebel sergeant's book that Harvey Deyo Merritt died the 16th inst. I learn he died laying in the sand outside the hospital having been carried out owing to the crowd. All knew him as Deyo in my company where he was a favorite. He often entertained the boys with songs. He had a melodious voice, was a good singer, a pleasant young man, a faithful soldier. I have composed the following lines in his honor:

     DEYO.

 

Dead he lay upon the sand,

Breathless lips and pulseless hand.

Dead he lay, appalling sight;

In those eyes there is no light;

Dead 'mid living, dying, dead,

And we have no tears to shed!

Death is but a common sight,

Dying round us day and night.

Scores are dying every day

And by comrades borne away,

Under gleaming Rebel guns

To cemet'ry for Northern sons.

Rolled in ditches by the score—

Ay, thousands—paroled forevermore!

No more his voice in song is heard

That sweetly once his comrades stirred;

Dead within this dreadful place,

The peace of God upon his face.

Nevermore the ration spare

Of prison pen with him we share.

He stood with us in fighting line;

Alas, together here we pine;

We sat with him in camp at night

Cheered by the Union firelight;

On weary marches night and day,

And with him in embattled fray;

On picket when the camp did sleep;

In wood, and field, and trenches deep;

When as skirmishers we creep,

And here where foes their vigils keep!

But now he sleeps in Dixie's soil,

No more, no more with us to toil;

Sleeps in the land he helped to free

From the bane of Slavery;—

No more to languish with us here; —

Dead, without coffin, shroud, or bier.

Deyo, good boy, farewell, farewell!

Who your wretched fate will tell?

Sadly you were heard to speak

"Mother, mother," faint and weak,

Until your starved and fetid breath

Was silent in this squalid death.

Thank God, your face she could not seе;

Your soul from this damned pit is free!

No more your lips will songs repeat

We heard so fondly and so sweet.

O, lifeless body, let it rest,

Wasted in this place opprest!

He is gone who was its guest;

We who stay are still unblest.

Lying dead in Georgia's sand

He obeys the last command.

Deyo, rest, your service is done;

Turned in your knapsack and your gun.

Rise, Deyo, genial soul, arise;

Soul of Deyo never dies!

Soldier, in what realm now?

Whose command obeyest thou?

Freed from this place of pest and blight,

Where rests your spirit, calm, to-night?

In camps with comrades gone before

Where fearful war you know no more;

In peaceful gardens of delight

Rest, Deyo, in peace, tonight!

Sergeant Bourne of the 58th Massachusetts favored me with the reading of a book entitled "Isabelle," devoted to the subject of home influence. It contains suggestions lovers of home ought to heed and practice. Although from the American Tract Society, it speaks of the visitation of spirits to "Quiet and influence and lead us in the way of heavenly things." Says the writer, "How much a word or a sentence may do to influence our associates!" I have been thinking that if these things be true, may not unseen influences buoy us up, inspire us with hope and strength to survive these ills. I have often asked they might, and felt perceptibly an inner delight; a joyous confidence. Spencer wrote of angels—

"They come to succor us, who succor want,

They for us fight, they watch and duly ward,

And their bright squadrons round about us plant,

And all for love, and nothing for reward."

Milton expressed similar ideas, putting these words into the mouth of Adam in one of his happy talks with Eve, which likely expressed the views of the poet on this topic

"Millions of spiritual creatures walk the Earth

Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep;

All these with ceaseless praise his works behold

Both day and night. How often from the steep

Of echoing hill or thicket, have we heard

Celestial voices to the midnight air,

Sole, or responsive each to other note,

Singing their Great Creator! Oft in bands

While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk,

With heavenly touch of instrumental sounds

In full harmonic number join'd, their songs

Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to Heaven."

I have been thinking, too, that I ought to mend in everyday talk and demeanor; have made slight effort; but everything around is hard. The temper is all the time worked upon; there is nothing pleasant but hope, good thoughts and desires. God and Nature are no less great, friends no less dear, liberty no less sweet, principles I attempt to defend no less sacred. I will not cease to defend them against rash, thoughtless men. Two men die across the street as I write this.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, pp. 113-5

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop, Tuesday, August 23, 1864

An interesting gossip was afloat when I came here that there were two women in prison disguised as Union soldiers. It was accepted as a fact by many who gave plenty of reasons for believing it, and it was a topic for talk among them which I was curious to hear. In June two sprightly persons were shown me as the alleged women. Many times after I saw them, always together, always by themselves. There was nothing in their appearance to discredit the story except male attire; nothing to suggest to me, under the circumstances, that they were women, in the absence of the story that they were women. They looked like beardless boys, feminine of stature and of features, with an air of shyness. The story could not be traced to an origin, nor was it denied except by ridicule. Its believers said their appearance was prima facie evidence, and accounted for their presence in several ways. For three weeks they have not been seen. This morning believers in the rumor are on to the fact that three weeks ago they left their dugout at sunset and passed the south gate. Where they went, how and why, is a mystery, but the story is now more than ever believed. They were called by some, "camp angels."

A. hints whimsically, he shall take his duds and leave because we disagree with him on important questions discussed. Steve is a rough, disagreeable talker on many things, reviles our cause, slanders Lincoln and his advisers. "We don't want a Union; that dog is dead. If we whip the South we had better give them independence, Nonsense; yet he was all right in the ranks. Prison deprivations disturb his equanimity.

A mere professional patriot, if weighed, is found wanting. Principles defended through superstition, selfish pride, blind party habit, or hatred, will ultimately be cursed by such defenders. That pride degenerates in its grossness; the man is "the wretch concentrated all in self," and obscures the self he really is. He who submits to be a mere tool in the relations of life, or exerts his power to the injury of others for rash and sordid reasons, is worse than inertia even when unused. The man without sentiment, strikes no spiritual goal.

As I passed the gate this morning I saw seven dead and met several on the way. Corpses are being carried to the burying ground in army wagons, loaded in like wood. The fellow who enjoys funerals ought to get satisfaction out of all he might see here.

During a terrific storm a spring burst out on the north of the swamp close to the dead line on the west side, below the north gate from a dry, sandy knoll, and now flows profusely; is pure, clear, soft and sweet as any water I ever drank We consider it remarkable, almost marvelous. It is difficult on the north side to reach water by wells. Men there, 20,000, perhaps more, have been obliged to get their water from the filthy run which catches the drainage from the Rebel camp, the cook house, and from excrement deposited on either side covering at least an acre, in places a foot thick, and filth from other sources. The south side, had, several weeks ago, reached water by digging 20 to 30 feet. In the 36th detachment, on the north side, they have sunk 80 feet and the water is red, hard and impure. A board spout is made conveying the water from this spring about 30 feet down the hill and out of danger of the dead line, where men flock by thousands daily to drink and fill their little buckets. Falling into files of four, a column is often formed which it takes two hours to pass the end of the spout. It runs a stream as large as my arm, white and clear, from the end of that spout.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, pp. 116-7

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Monday, June 30, 1862

Battle of Glendale Farm. This battle is known by five different names: White Oak Swamp, Glendale Farm, Golding's Farm, Turkey Bend, and of Charles City Road. At daybreak we formed in line of battle. The enemy appeared shortly after. The battle opened at different points. (Every one recollects the delay of our retreat on that day, in covering our extensive trains, which occupied seventeen miles length of road.) At three o'clock P. M. the rear of the trains passed by, just in time, as we were attacked immediately after. The battle lasted until night. Sergeant Hammond, Seidlinger, and Slocum were wounded. Battery B, Pennsylvania Artillery, was taken by the rebels, right in our front. The gunboats participated in the battle. We fell back at midnight, leaving our dead and wounded on the field. Our battery carried their wounded off, but left one caisson behind, a lynchpin giving way. No other could be found during the excitement.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, pp. 50-1

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, July 4, 1863

In position all day and night. Rained all afternoon and night. Went over on the battle-field in the afternoon, and saw a great number of the dead of both armies.

SOURCE: John Lord Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 277

Diary of Major Joseph Stockton, May 16, 1863

Started at four a. m. Reached Raymond by ten o'clock. The churches were full of the wounded rebels and our men, for there had been quite a fight here, as well as at Port Gibson. We had cleaned the rebels out and our men were in the best of spirits. While resting here, heard firing in the distance. Started at quick time; men were drawn up in line of battle about five miles from Raymond, across a road, but the enemy had gone around us. Orders came to move forward in a hurry. Met some brigades resting on the road, but General Wilson of Grant's staff hurried us forward across fields and arrived at Champion's Hill just as the enemy fled. We were pushed forward to the front and slept on the field of battle. Dead rebels and Union soldiers were lying all around us. The enemy had fled across the Big Black River. Our victory had been complete, captured over two thousand men, seventeen pieces of artillery and a number of battle flags. Marched twenty-five miles today.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 14

Diary of Major Joseph Stockton, May 19, 1863

The different corps had only taken such positions yesterday as they could in the dark, but today troops were constantly being brought forward and assigned positions as best they could. Our regiment was still in the front. Skirmishing commenced early in the morning. Company E advancing. I had charge of the skirmishers. They drove the rebel pickets in and took an advanced position. They were not strong enough, and I went back to the regiment and brought forward Company K, Captain Reid. They were advancing over a hill, when Captain Reid was shot through the wrist. He was taken to the rear and had his arm amputated that day. He was a brave man and a surveyor by profession, and should he survive would miss his arm and hand terribly. Two companies from Logan's Division relieved us and we rejoined the regiment. General Ransom ordered me to reconnoiter and see if I could not find a way to join the brigade to Sherman's left without cutting through the cane brakes, which were as thick as they could grow. I never had such work in all my life, climbing up and down ravines, my horse at one time getting so tangled that I was afraid I would have to leave him—through cane, over and under fallen trees, guided by the sound of artillery, until I found the artillery, which to my agreeable surprise was Batteries A and B, Chicago Light Artillery. I stayed but a few moments and hastened to report to General Ransom. Bullets were flying thick, but I fortunately escaped being hit. I had found a good road and led the brigade to the position assigned us; got into position at once and ordered to charge at two p. m. Started forward up a steep hill and across an open field, when the Rebs opened on us, killing and wounding twenty of the regiment in five minutes—one shell took a file clean out of Company D, killing every man. We could not reply as they were behind entrenchments. We sought shelter in a ravine, leaving our dead on the field until night. At night we had a burial party, buried them, and a hundred men were detailed to throw up rifle pits along the brow of the hill we had crossed. All worked silently; the Rebs would oссаsionally open on us with artillery and musketry, but no harm was done.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 15

Diary of Major Joseph Stockton, May 22, 1863

A day long to be remembered by those who participated in the events I now write about. We all knew we were to assault the rebel works, and that there would be bloody work. The day was a beautiful one, but very warm. We got breakfast early, and shortly word came that the assault would be made at two o'clock promptly, but that we would move at ten o'clock to take our positions. The ground had been reconnoitered as best it could by General Ransom and the field officers of the brigade the night previous. Early in the morning General Ransom and staff took seats near our quarters, where we had a good position, to see the rebel works. We talked and chatted, and Colonel Wright had a splendid field glass, and Ransom remarked jocosely: "Colonel, if you are killed I want you to leave that glass to me." "All right," said he, but I remarked: "Stop, Colonel, you forget you left that to your boy when you made your will at Memphis." "That is so," replied Wright. Poor fellow, a few hours afterwards he was carried off the field badly wounded. I climbed a large tree to get as good a view as possible, and reported to Ransom that they had no interior works but a single line of fortification. When 10 o'clock came we fell into line and the regiment counted; we numbered four hundred men. At the word "forward" we started in two ranks down the ravine and commenced to climb up the ascent on the other side, Company A in the advance. It was hard work climbing over and under the trees that the Rebs had cut down to impede our advance. We got within thirty yards of their works, creeping on our hands and knees, when four of Company Co A were shot, two killed in instantly. Corporal Nelson and Private Harding, and Corporal Heberlin and Private Kassill mortally wounded; both died at night—four as good men as ever drew breath. We were ordered to change our position, and in doing so a lieutenant left his sword near the spot where the men were killed. I climbed up and got it for him and sent it to him with my compliments; got into our new position and waited for the word. Generals Giles A Smith and Ransom and other officers got together in the ravine and arranged their watches and how they should start. At last, at two o'clock promptly, the word came to "go." Up we started and rushed ahead with a yell, and were greeted with a most wondrous volley. Our colors were planted about fifteen feet from the ditch, but we could not go forward, the fire was too severe, men could not live; we laid down and only the wounded fell back, while shot and shell from the right and left and our own batteries in the rear, whose shell fell short, did terrific work. Men fell "like leaves in wintry weather." Colonel Wright was carried off the field terribly wounded, Colonel Starring incapacitated by a sunstroke, when the command of the regiment fell upon myself. General Ransom tried to have us go forward, but we could not do it. At last he gave the word to get back into the ravine, which we did, marching off as quietly as on dress parade, carrying the wounded with us, but leaving the dead. We reformed and then waited for further command, as we expected to make another charge, but thank heaven, orders came only to move up to our former position and hold the ground, which we did, and remained until midnight, when we were ordered back to our camp. What a night! Such a night I never spent before. About dusk there was quite a panic, but fortunately it was checked. The stench was horrible. Many of the men from being completely worn out fell asleep, but I could not close my eyes. None knew but what the Rebs might sally out, but they were only too glad, I guess, to stay where they were, having repulsed us. I cannot go into the details of the charge, but it was horrible, bloody work. Our loss in twenty minutes was one hundred and ten killed and wounded. Such was the 22d of May, 1863.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 16

Diary of Major Joseph Stockton, May 25, 1863

The stench from the bodies lying unburied on the battlefield becoming so great a flag of truce from the enemy made its appearance and permission given to bury our dead. I did not go on the field, having no relish for such sights.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 17

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Sunday, July 3, 1864

New prisoners report favorable progress by our armies. Yesterday there was a powerful rain lasting ten hours. In this part the soil is red and hard, surface flat, and water stood from two to four inches deep. We stood up all night to keep out of it. Those too feeble to do this, were drenched and drowned. It was with great physical and mental effort that I was able to endure the strain as I have been feeble several days.

Four crazy men have been wandering through camp several days. I noticed one today without any clothing, having been naked for two weeks. He lay within four rods of the south gate, arms extended, exposed to the sun, in full view of everybody. His whole body was blistered, his countenance frightfully distorted, giving utterance to unintelligible sounds, frothy matter oozing from his mouth and nostrils, his eyes appearing blind. Another prisoner shot through the hips last night by a guard. One lay near the brook delirious, burning with fever; another near him was unable to speak; one-half buried in the swamp, covered by a mass of maggots and flies. Those who brought him out said his eyes, ears, nose and mouth were filled. Near the sink, in almost every passage, lay half-rotting skeletons, evincing all the signs of deprivation and symptoms of pestilence, and yet alive. All of this and I have not been out of my usual course. Neither do I mention those who have a slight covering to turn the sun. There are hundreds who would require the best treatment to be saved, and perhaps could not be saved. In this absence of medical treatment we resort to simple means to cure ourselves. A very limited supply of red root and white gum bark can be found, on our new lot, and pine bark, which are used to check the almost universal complaints, diarrhoea, dysentery and urinary troubles. I observed several men today had buried their limbs to the knees, as a remedy for scurvy. But the truth is there is no remedy for this condition under the circumstances. Never could we imagine anything so horrible! We might write volumes, and fail to describe the horrible reality. Our people would disbelieve it, and "pooh" as if it were a fabulous tale. Tonight some have a season of prayer near us. One or two most excellent prayers were offered, prayers that would grace pulpits, bearing an earnestness of the soul's devotion. It seemed so much like home, like steadfast faith and adoration, a reflex of the all-reaching Providence, that we felt it good to be there; that hearts are still alive, the finer sympathies not entirely stifled. How much better to see men in such communion, seeking consolation from heaven, than to see them worse than brutes, or fighting demons! No rations today.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 83

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, October 10, 1863

Had orders last night at 12 o'clock to cook rations and be ready to move at 4 A.M., but this morning nothing farther is said about it. The order was given in anticipation of an attack, in consequence of some demonstrations made by the enemy last night.

It is now three weeks since the great battle, and I understand that a great many of the enemy's dead are yet unburied. I found, four days after the fight, some of their wounded still unattended to. One of them, belonging to the Sixth Ohio, I made as comfortable as possible, by filling his canteen with water and furnishing him some matches.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 368

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, Thursday Morning, November 7, 1861

Camp Cairo Illinois. . . . no Drill this morning. At day light the fleet once more get under way and in Co. with the 2 Gun Boats Lexington and Tyler Proceede down the River to a point 3 miles above Columbus; landed on the Mo. side. Disembarked all of our forces the 27th taking the lead we marched around to a point about 3 miles distant from our landing place and about opposite the enemys encampment at Belmont opposite Columbus & on this side of the River. By throwing out skirmishers from our right flank the position of the enemy was ascertained. The 30th & 31st Regts were then sent forward to engage him, the 30th to attack the center & 31st his left flank while the 22nd Ills. 7th Iowa & Taylors Battery supported the center     The 31st were the first to engage the enemy and soon the action became general, from left to center. The 27th which in the mean time had been lying at the point from which skirmishers had been sent out was now ordered around to attack him on his right flank which we did though at a great disadvantage having to fight him in his own position among fallen timbers, after one hour's hard fighting we had the satisfaction of driving him from his encampment tearing down their "cursed Rag" and planting the stars and stripes where it had lately waved.¹ Here was scene presented to the Eye which can be easier imagined than described.

All over the Battle field they scattered and in heaps The dead and the dying Friend and Foe lay in close proximity to each other. Some torn asunder by cannon balls some with frightful wounds here and there in different parts of the body Some were killed out right with musket balls through the temples or forehead others with limbs torn completely off suffering the most torturing agonies 'twas a most horrible sight to contemplate But we were not allowed but a very short time to contemplate for the enemy by this time had reinforced by Cheatham's Brigade of Five Thousand men again advanced upon us evidently with the intention of cutting off our retreat. And just at this moment they commenced shelling us from Columbus from their Batteries of 60 Guns, The shells fell among us thick and fast. However previous to this we had the satisfaction setting fire to their Camp & destroying it. Now the command in order to work its way back to boats—had to its way through the enemy—resulting in the loss of many brave fellows killed and wounded the enemy pursuing until we reached the boats. Our forces having embarked safely before they came up Except the 27th which in order to evade the enemy, our Sagacious Col. as he has proved himself to be in this day's fight marched around the Bayou some Three miles above where the boats lay, Thereby escaping the terrible fire to which the balance of our forces were exposed.

Our Regt. was brought up by the Gun Boat Lexington.²

_______________

¹ Colonel Buford of the 27th Illinois in his official report of Nov. 9, 1861, praises the work of his men in the following words: "It was our first action. We encountered great odds; the enemy in his fortified position, the thunder of the heavy artillery from Columbus, the whizzing of rifled cannon; we had no guides. How could soldiers who had only volunteered a few days ago be expected to brave such odds? But they did brave them." War of the Rebellion, Official Records, Series I.,vol. III., p. 285.

² See the report of General Grant for the verification of this episode. Nov. 17, 1861. War of the Rebellion, OfficialRecords, Series I., vol. III., pp. 269-271. See especially p. 271: "At this point, to avoid the effect of the shells from the gunboats that were beginning to fall among his men, he [Colonel Buford] took a blind path direct to the river, and followed a wood road up its bank, and thereby avoided meeting the enemy, who were retiring by the main road. On his appearance on the river bank a steamer was dropped down, and took his command on board, without his having participated or lost a man in the enemy's attempt to cut us off from our transports." For further light on this engagement see Ibid. pp. 275, 277-280, 282-285, 288, 289, 291.

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, pp. 231-2

Diary of Private William S. White, March 28, 1862

Returned to camp to-day; accomplished but little in Richmond, as most of the men had gone into service by reason of our militia being ordered out. Had a most pleasant time in Richmond, but oh, how much I missed my former companions. Alas! some of them are sleeping in soldiers' graves and some of them are wasting away in Northern prisons.

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

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Monday, May 30, 1864

What a night! In addition to scent from the fearful swamp, we had that of dead men in our rear. At our feet lay one begging for water groaning with pain. It was conjectured, because of his hoarse cough, that he had mumps, or measles or small pox, by some persons. Some dare venture but little here to aid suffering strangers when it is all one can do to keep alive. All the assistance we could offer was to give a cup of water. This I gave at arms length. He lay close at our feet but when we woke in the morning he was gone.

Prisoners from Butler report having helped tear up the Petersburg railroad. The stockade is to be enlarged. There has been a call for men to go outside to work on the timber. The old pen is so densely crowded that we are willing to help enlarge the prison. The Rebels are much hurried, being fearful of the reported raid from Kilpatrick. It is said some who went out in the squad to work are put on fortifications, refuse and are sent in. Some may be willing to do this for more grub, but we understand they were parolled on honor and then ordered to work by the commandant as he pleased. It is shameful if men assent to work on Rebel works, that they should be ordered to do so, is more shameful, and outside the laws of war.

Rations are cut down one-half; barely enough for two meals a day. We could eat all at one. Steward Brown has been out to the hospital a day or two. He tells me that 31 died yesterday, 39 today in the so-called hospital, saying nothing of the prison. He says they are miserable mockeries of hospitals, a discredit to the medical profession; but that the doctors are seemingly power-less in the matter, being under orders and practically destitute of medicines. All medical supplies, he says, furnished by the Rebel commissaries at Richmond, are sent to the military posts and are very scant and held by the physicians having charge of that department for use among their own soldiers. Brown is lately from England, pretty well versed in medicine, having had 30 years' study and practice in British hospitals and in military service. He professes neutrality, but was taken while helping care for our wounded in the Battle of the Wilderness, May 5th.

He is allowed more liberty than a Yankee. He says a bunch, that is still quite sore on my forehead, was caused by a spent bullet.

Hiram Morse of Co. F, 76th regiment, admitted to the hospital today. He sickened on corn bread, lost appetite, became helpless from diarrhoea and attendant fever; has wasted rapidly to a skeleton, helpless in body, crazed in mind. He has been kept alive by crust coffee and a little black tea we happened to have, since he got here. Many are becoming so homesick and downhearted, that they believe any report, good or bad. It is no place to get sick; courage must be kept up though rations go down.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 68-9

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty: July 12, 1861

We were rejoiced this morning to hear of Rosecrans' success, and, at the same time, not well pleased at the escape of the enemy under cover of night. We were ordered to move, and got under way at eight o'clock. On the road we met General Rosecrans and staff. He was jubilant, as well he might be, and as he rode by received the congratulations of the officers and cheers of the men.

Arriving on yesterday's battlefield, the regiment was allowed a half hour for rest. The dead had been gathered and placed in a long trench, which was still open. The wounded of both armies were in hospital, receiving the attention of the surgeons. There were a few prisoners, most of them too unwell to accompany their friends in retreat.

Soon after reaching the summit of Rich mountain, we caught glimpses of Tygart's valley, and of Cheat mountain beyond, and before nightfall reached Beverly and went into camp.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 26-7

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, September 19, 1862

Started at eight A.M., and marched through Sharpsburg, and went into camp on the outskirts of the town, which was very much riddled with shot and shell. Saw a number of dead rebels in the town.

SOURCE: John Lord Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 268

Diary of Sergeant Daniel L. Ambrose: November 11, 1864

The grand armies are now moving, headed towards Atlanta. To-night we go into camp upon the Allatoona battle field. The brave General John M. Corse, though his wound is scarcely well, is with us commanding the Fourth Division. As we see him late to-night riding up to his headquarters (having refused to dismount until his division was all in camp), we thought to ourselves, "Brave Johnny, thou art a noble type of an American soldier.” As we said, this is Allatoona's great battle field; here brave men sleep; here noble warriors fought their last fight; here sleep those who stood with us when Allatoona's hills were rocking amid the awful din and clash of steel; stood with us until they fell.

We are now standing by their uncoffined graves. Boon companions lie here. How vividly the hour comes to us when they passed away under the shadow of the flag, the pride of their hearts. We cannot help but cast silent tears to their memory, and turning our faces towards the north star, we are wont to say: Oh! weep, heart of the North, for thy fallen dead who sleep here. The night is growing cold; we will now wend our way to where the weary Seventh lie sleeping.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 274-5

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: December 2, 1864

Warm, and raining moderately.

My landlord gets $400 of the $500 increase of my salary.

Dispatches from Gen. Bragg :

AUGUSTA, December 1st, 1864. Following received from Lieut.-Gen. R. Taylor, Savannah, Ga.: “Gen. Hardee is at Grahamville. No fighting there since yesterday evening, when the enemy was driven five miles, leaving their dead upon the field.—B. B.”

Another :

AUGUSTA, December 1st, 1864, 12 M.—The (enemy's) cavalry having been driven in, the enemy's main force was yesterday found near Louisville, with strong outposts in this direction. They have secured large supplies in the country; but our cavalry is now all up, and it is hoped they will be prevented to a great extent in the future. The report from Savannah, of the enemy's entrance into Millen, on the 27th, was premature. Telegraphic communication was reopened to Savannah by that route yesterday. The enemy is just now reported as at Station 9, on Central Railroad, advancing.—B. B.

During the last month, 100 passports were given to leave the Confederate States by Provost Marshal Carrington and War Department.

Mr. G. B. Lamar, Savannah, Ga., tenders his services to go to New York and purchase supplies for our prisoners in the hands of the enemy, and to negotiate the sale of 1000 bales of cotton, etc. Twelve M. Heavy and pretty rapid shelling is heard down the river.

Col. Chandler, Inspecting Officer, makes an ugly report of Gen. Winder's management of the prisons in Georgia. Brig.-Gen. Chilton appends a rebuking indorsement on Gen. W.'s conduct. The inspector characterizes Gen. W.'s treatment of the prisoners as barbarous, and their condition as a "hell on earth." And Gen. W. says his statements are "false."

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 345

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, October 29, 1864

Near Petersburg, Va.,        

October 29, 1864.

I suppose you have heard how we whipped the Yankees on both this side and the north side of the James River. The killed and wounded fell into our hands here at Petersburg, and we have been attending to their wounded all day to-day. Our loss was very small. Wilcox's Division was occupying a part of our line that was not assaulted, and therefore it was not engaged. We now have strong hopes of being able to hold Petersburg and Richmond.

This war can never end until the fanatics, both North and South, are gotten rid of. They are influenced solely by their blind, senseless passions, and reason never enters their heads. It is always such discontented, worthless wretches who bring about revolutions. The North is still infested with such characters, and the South is not far behind. If we could get those hot-headed fools in South Carolina who composed that meeting at Columbia recently and put them in the army and get them all killed off, it would be much better for us. What a pity we cannot have them killed, but they cannot be made to fight. I do not believe that Boyce will fight a duel with such a man as Tradewell, for he must have more sense than to do that.

My box is not here yet. I will continue to keep on the lookout for it until it arrives. My dinner will soon be ready and I think it will be fine, for I shall have white cabbage, bacon, potatoes and biscuit.

As soon as I can I will send you one hundred and fifty dollars to pay your expenses in coming out. The Government owes me about five hundred dollars, which I hope to be able soon to collect. If you can come by the first of December you can remain at least three months, and I may be able to go back with you in March.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 112-3

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, May 9, 1863

Camp near Moss Neck, Va.,        

May 9, 1863.

On Saturday morning (the 2d inst.) I received an order to ship the wounded to Richmond, store our medical supplies and follow the wagon train to Chancellorsville. I carried the chest of supplies to a large house, which Stonewall Jackson had for his headquarters, and was met at the door by a young lady who was whistling. She appeared to be quite aristocratic and was very courteous to us.

We started late in the afternoon, and I marched with the wagon train all night. It was carrying rations and did not stop once. Most of the road was through woods, but we could see well enough to march all night, and in some places there was mud, but no wagon stalled.

Just before daylight I saw a dead Yankee lying close to the right of the road. I did not know until then that there had been any fighting. I knew our command left that morning, but had heard no firing and knew nothing of what had taken place. Just as it was getting light the Yankees threw shells, which burst about the wagons, and the teamsters became excited and began whipping their horses and hurrying to get away; but a quartermaster at once commanded them to keep quiet and get away in good order, and the excitement ceased. The fighting then began just as soon as they could see.

I went on hunting for the field infirmary, and when I found it our wounded were coming back and a few had been brought back before I got there, and I at once went to work assisting in amputations, and continued at it all day and until late at night.

Jackson's men came in from the rear on Saturday night and drove the Yankees from their breastworks and occupied them that morning (Sunday, May 3). The Yankees came back early and tried to retake them, and I could hear them fighting furiously for several hours. We knew nothing of Stonewall Jackson's being shot the night before.

During the assault Colonel Edwards walked along on top of the works waving his sword to encourage his men, and was shot through the shoulder. When he was brought back I helped him out of the ambulance and expressed sympathy for him, which caused him to shed tears, but he said nothing. Colonel James Perrin was brought back shot through the body and in great agony, and General McGowan was struck below the knee while standing upon the works. I saw my brother once during the day bringing a wounded man back.

Captain McFall and Lieutenant Mike Bowers came back looking for stragglers, and found four young men who were known to be cowards, but who were always great braggarts after a battle was over. They all pretended to be sick, but I could see no indications of it, and they were marched off, but, before reaching the works, one of them slipped away, although the fighting had ended.

After all the wounded were attended to I was very tired and went to sleep late that night in a tent. I would wake up cold during the night and reach out for a jug of whiskey and take a swallow and go back to sleep again.

The next morning (Monday the 4th) we did nothing. Several handsome young Yankee surgeons in fine uniforms came over with a white flag, and I went to where they were attending to their wounded. While there I talked with a wounded man from Ohio, and saw one of our soldiers cut a forked limb from a tree and make a crutch for a Yankee who was wounded in the foot. The unfed horses of a Yankee cavalry regiment had been hitched to the trees near by and had gnawed off all the bark within their reach.

We stayed there for three days until the Yankees crossed back over the Rappahannock River, and then we marched back to Moss Neck in the daytime in peace and found our tents standing where we left them.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 50-3

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Friday, December 13, 1861

I helped to bury Cousin A. N. Ramsey, who had died of fever two days before, from Franklin County, Alabama, and a member of the sixteenth Alabama Infantry. He was buried in the honors of war, near Mr. A. R. West's.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 97