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 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan, Sunday, April 2, 1865

Get the co up at 2. A. M. to get their breakfasts. At 3 take them to the paralel & get our position before daylight, bullets & shell keep a continual screeching & whistling over our heads. About dark Co B which was on the skirmish line bring down a man wonded in the head, his name is William Harris, at 8. we are relieved & return to camp, is after 10. before we get supper over & get to bed. not being right well the day has worn heavy on me. One piece of good news is the arrival of 300 prisoners captured by Steele, one Maj Genl was killed I am told that when the prisoners were captured a soldier presented his gun at the Genl saying to him dismount & surrender, the Genl said I will surrender but will dismount for no one but a commissioned officer Mr. soldier thought he was not safe on horseback & as he still refused to dismount shot him killing him instantly.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, Thirty-Third Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, Vol. XIII, No. 8, Third Series, Des Moines, April 1923, p. 583

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan, Sunday, April 9, 1865

Revelie this morning on the drums which is the first time while we have been before Spanish fort. Soon as breakfast is over many of the men go out to see the forts. The report on their return the roads & all arond the forts in the very grond we walked over was planted with hundreds of torpedos & it was a wonder that hundreds of men had not been killed, the reason is the caps over the tops put there to protect them had not been removed the Pioneer Corps are taking up dead loads of them, the cannon 30 in no were spiked with wraught iron which is taken out of most of them allready, directly after breakfast the general blows, it begins to rain, is 12 before we move up on the hill by Div Hd Qtrs when 4 days rations is issued to the men, is 1. P. M. when we start out for Blakely when, we had gone about a mile Lt Rice rides up & tells us the news at the landing is that Petersburg & Richmond is evacuated & Lee fallen back to Lynchburgh, 2 mile out & just outside of Smiths rear the 13th Ind cav is out on review Latter part of the roads very bad & were until 9. P. M. getting to camp, in the evening we are on a forced march for some purpose, as we near Blakely meet some soldiers who say. you need not run yourselves to death for Blakely is ours. on inquiry learned that it had surrendered about 12 hour before having been carried by assault. Our men losst heavily many of them torn to pieces by the explosion of torpedos captured about 2400 prisoners & 25 pieces of artilery, some 100 lbers we meet 9. ambulance loads of wounded, hear that 2 rams run in & surrendered after the fort had surrendered. The negros in the charge are said to have taken few prisoners on account of one of their men having been shot who was captured, (this is all rumor) a slight sprinkle of rain this evening.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, Thirty-Third Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, Vol. XIII, No. 8, Third Series, Des Moines, April 1923, pp. 587-8

Private John C. West to Stark West, July 8, 1863

HAGERSTOWN, MD., JULY 8TH, 1863.

To Master Stark West, four years old:

MY DEAR LITTLE MAN: I wrote to mamma from our camp near Chambersburg, Pennsylvania, and as to-morrow is your birthday, and you are getting to be a big boy, I thought you would like for papa to write you a letter and tell you something about the war and the poor soldiers.

God has been very good to me since I wrote to mamma. He has saved my life when many thousands of good men have been slain all around me. On the 1st, 2nd and 3rd of July a very terrible battle was fought near Gettysburg. We marched all night, leaving camp at 2 o'clock in the afternoon in order to reach the battlefield in time. There had been some fighting on the 1st and we passed a hospital where I saw a great many wounded soldiers, who were mangled and bruised in every possible way, some with their eyes shot out, some with their arms, or hands, or fingers, or feet or legs shot off, and all seeming to suffer a great deal. About two miles farther on I found a great many soldiers drawn up in a line, ready to meet the Yankees, who formed another line a mile or two in front of them. These lines were three or four miles long, and at different places on the hills were the batteries of artillery.

These, you know, are cannons, which shoot large shells, and iron balls a long distance. We kept in this line so long, and I was so tired, I went to sleep and dreamed about you and mamma and little sister, and I asked God to take care of you if I am taken away from you. After awhile we were marched off in a great hurry towards the left of the Yankee line of battle, which is called the left wing, and was opposite to our right wing, which was composed principally of Hood's division. Our brigade was ordered to charge upon one of the Yankee batteries, which was posted on a mountain as high as mount Bonnell, with another battery on a still higher mountain, just back of it, to support it. We were standing in an open field, under the shot and shell of these batteries, for half an hour, before we moved forward, and a good many soldiers were killed all around me. One poor fellow had his head knocked off in a few feet of me, and I felt all the time as if I would never see you and little sister again. When the command was given to charge we moved forward as fast as we could towards the battery. It was between a half and three-quarters of a mile across an open field, over a marshy branch, over a stone fence, and up a very rugged and rocky hill, while Yankee sharpshooters were on the higher mountains, so as to have fairer shots at our officers. On we went yelling and whooping, and soon drove the Yankees from the first battery, but were too much worn out and exhausted to climb to the second, besides a great many of our men were killed, and minnie bullets and grape shot were as thick as hail, and we were compelled to get behind the rocks and trees to save ourselves.

We renewed the charge several times, but the slaughter of our men was so great that after four or five efforts to advance we retired about sunset and slept behind the rocks. I had thrown away my blanket and everything except my musket and cartridge box in the fight, and so spent a very uncomfortable night. We remained at the same place all the next day, and every now and then Yankee bullets would come pretty thick amongst us. One bullet went through my beard and struck a rock half an inch from my head, and a piece of the bullet hit me on the lip and brought the blood.

Lieutenant Joe Smith, of McLennan county, was killed in ten feet of me, and John Terry and Tom Mullens were both wounded in the shoulders. I wanted to write my little man a letter, which he could read when he was a big boy, but it has been raining and the ground is very wet and everything so uncomfortable that I cannot enjoy it.

Tell mamma she had better put off her visit to South Carolina until the war is over, as she seems to be doing very well, and it will be better for her.

Your father, truly,

JOHN C. WEST.

SOURCE: John Camden West, A Texan in Search of a Fight: Being the Diary and Letters of a Private Soldier in Hood’s Texas Brigade, pp. 84-6

Diary of Private William S. White, September 3, 1862

Our wagon reached us this morning and right glad were we to see it. Reached Warrenton, Fauquier county, to-day, and remained there several hours.

This village is crowded with the wounded of the late fights, and the streets present a horrible aspect. About sun-down we moved a few miles from Warrenton and halted for the night.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 128

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, March 30, 1863

SIEGE AT WASHINGTON.

It has rained nearly all this week, and until yesterday we have been loafing, trying to kill time. Last night our company was on picket again up the road towards Tarboro, coming in this morning about six o'clock. They had a most miserable time. Twitchell was sent to the hospital sick. A few of us were on guard here, so escaped picket duty.

Gen. Foster arrived here this morning, and by noon Companies A and G, under command of Capt. J. M. Richardson of "A," with one howitzer, were tramping across the bridge towards New Berne on a scout. Those who could went to the water's edge to watch them. They were soon in action, meeting a force of rebels who handled them severely. Finding quite a strong force protected by breastworks, they were ordered back, to give the "Louisiana" a chance to shell the woods. Capt. Richardson of "A" was wounded twice in the left arm.

They left Sergt. Hobart, Corp. Lawrence, and John Leonard of "G," who were taken prisoners. The rebels closed on them and carried them off. Several others were struck, but none seriously hurt. About every man at the head of the column was hit. Capt. Richardson was heard to say, "It is rough to go through what I have (five or six battles) without a scratch, and get hurt in this affair."

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 44

Diary of Musician David Lane, October 14, 1863

Our part in this expedition is done, and we are on our way back to Knoxville. Wilcox's "baby brigade," as our boys call them, and the Twenty-third Corps, together with cavalry and mounted infantry, are following up the retreating Rebels. I have not learned the result of the fight, and probably will not for some days to come. Over a hundred of their dead are buried at Blue Springs, where our forces first overtook them, and as far as I went which was fifteen miles—every house was filled with their wounded.

I saw some were from Lee's army. One Lieutenant said he remembered seeing our regiment at Fredericksburg. He had stood picket opposite our boys several times. There was a brigade from the Rappahannock. Their force, he said, was about eight thousand, all mounted. The facts in the case were about as follows: Burnside had cleared his department of armed Rebels and had advanced into Virginia as far as Salt Town, where the Rebels had extensive salt works, strongly fortified. Before he could concentrate sufficient force to destroy these works, word came that Rosa was in danger—that Burnside was to hold himself in readiness to reinforce him at a minute's notice. In order to do this he must withdraw all his forces from the northeast and concentrate them near Knoxville.

The Rebels followed up as he fell back, and occupied the positions he had driven them from.

Before Burnside reached Morristown, word came from Rosa that he was safe inside his fortifications and was being rapidly reinforced by Grant. This left Burnside free to do over again what had been undone, but through no fault of his.

It was a touching sight to witness the joy of these much-abused people at our return. Men who had fled to the bush as the Rebels advanced, and dare not, for their lives, appear, came flocking in and were welcomed with tears and shouts of joy by wives and children. Their gratitude was unbounded.

As I witnessed the delight of these people and listened to their tales of suffering, I felt more than ever that I was engaged in a just and holy cause, and my heart was strengthened to do and dare for human liberty.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 105-6

Diary of Major Joseph Stockton, June 17, 1863

The siege is progressing slowly but surely. We are making gradual approaches and are now within one hundred feet of the enemy's works. The work is done by the men rolling in front of them a large gabion filled with earth so as to keep the rebel sharp-shooters from picking them off. They then dig a trench throwing the dirt up on both sides; at times men are killed; one of our men, a sergeant in Co. B, has just been brought in killed in the advance rifle pit. He was shot through the head and killed instantly. Such an occurrence makes the men careful but they soon grow careless again. The Rebs are throwing shells into our camp, pieces fall in close proximity to our quarters. Their sharp-shooters are constantly on the watch for a chance to pick us off. I was riding along the other day to see the works on our left and stopped for a moment, when a bullet struck at the feet of my horse's front legs and in a second more two or three others in close proximity. I changed my position. No one can form any idea of the extent of their works, reaching a distance of eighteen miles, completely encircling Vicksburg. Quite a number of our wounded men have died since they have left to go North. The severity of the wounds is proven by the fact that there were over fifty amputations of arms and legs in our brigade alone.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 18

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, December 21, 1861

Did ever husband and father need the comforting aid of the help-meets of home as I need them this evening? See my table. Six full foolscap sheets of letters from home—read, re-read, studied, spelled, and now to be answered. I wonder if any body ever imagines the value of a letter to a soldier. His power of estimating must be large indeed, if he can appreciate it. Were it not for this value I should never have the courage to attempt answering all this pile. But then, I have no room to arrange all these with a view to replies, for my whole tent is as crowded as my table, full of evidences of the kindness—I will dare to say, of the affection of so many of my kind lady-friends. The dictates of kindness and benevolence may crowd upon you articles of comfort and utility, but it requires the affections to indicate the numerous little tokens which peep from the packages of useful things now piled around my tent. They strengthen and they cheer me. I shall endeavor, right here, to make myself worthy of all this confidence. What a field this is for the exercise of the "unseen heroism" of life!

But how in the name of Legerdemain do our friends contrive to get so many things into a little box? Why, my 10x10 tent is absolutely full. It is well, too, that the box was opened just to-day, for things in it were getting considerably "mixed." Two or three preserve and jelly jars, and a bottle of pickles had been broken. The contents had escaped, and to make amends for their long confinement, like colts let loose, they ran considerably. The pickles had "pitched into" the sugar. The jelly had made a dash at the tea. The nutmegs were luxuriating in a mixture of preserves and coffee. There seemed to be an inclination amongst these belligerents to get into "a muss" generally; but I "offered mediation." After two or three hours of back-ache work, I got the conglomerates restored to their original elements, and gave the men a look at them. They were gratified and thankful. I do not think one man looked on one of these evidences of home rememberance but felt strengthened in his resolves to perform manfully the duties which he had undertaken.

Yesterday we had the first fight worthy the name, since we joined the army. General McCall sent out a Brigade (about 4,000 men) to reconnoitre. They came upon an equal number of the enemy, and after taking a good look at each other, concluded to "go in." In this fight we gained a decided victory. No mistake this time. We fought and won.

We lost a few men—about ten killed and some thirty wounded. Amongst the latter is Lieutenant Colonel Kane of the Pennsylvania "Buck Tails." He is a brother of the late Doctor Kane, of the Arctic Expedition.*

Yesterday a few Surgeons met in my tent and gave expressions to their feelings against a self-constituted organization calling itself the "U. S. Sanitary Commission." I have had very little acquaintance with its members, or with its mode of doing business. From the almost universal prejudice which the Surgeons have against it, I infer that it must possess many bad or troublesome traits of character. I have naturally enough imbibed impressions which are anything but favorable in regard to it. At our little talk, yesterday, it was determined amongst us that the Commission must be "written down." I am selected to do the writing, my professional brothers to furnish the data. This morning I commenced my first article, but before it was finished, the roar of cannon and the bursting of shells arrested my attention, and I left my writing to watch the progress of the battle of Drainesville [sic]. In a little while, the wounded began to be brought in, and the whole being new to us, the Surgeons, now, for the first, began to examine their stores and appliances for wounded men. We had very few things which we needed, and whilst mourning over the delay necessary to procure them from Washington (some 9 miles distant) the agents of this Commission, having got wind of the progressing fight, had loaded up light wagons with their sanitary stores and rushed to the scene of suffering with the very things most needed. I confess that I feel a little ashamed to have been caught in the act of writing such an article, under such ci[r]cumstances. Something good may come out of Nazareth yet. I think I shall wait and see, rather than be induced by the prejudices or opinions of others, to commit an act, perhaps a wrong, which I may be sorry for.

_______________

* Battle of Dranesville.

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. 66-9

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop, Thursday, July 24, 1864

Before day the dog horn and the yelping of hounds was heard. Men on parole about the depot had attempted to escape. Two trains of wounded from Hood's army passed here. Rebels report a victory, then admit a loss. Frederick, of my Company, died this afternoon. He has been ailing but we did not think him dangerously ill. He was carried out at 5 o'clock and is the 51st man who has died since 7 a. m. in prison.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 93

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 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

Official Reports of the Campaign in North Alabama and Middle Tennessee, November 14, 1864-January 23, 1865: No. 12. — Reports of Surg. J. Theodore Heard, Medical Director, Fourth Army Corps, of operations November 29-30 and December 15-16, 1864.

No. 12.

Reports of Surg. J. Theodore Heard, Medical Director, Fourth Army Corps, of operations November 29-30 and December 15-16, 1864.

HEADQUARTERS FOURTH ARMY CORPS,                

MEDICAL DIRECTOR'S OFFICE,        

Nashville, Tenn., December 12, 1864.

SIR: I have the honor to submit the following report of the operations of the medical department of the Fourth Army Corps at the battles of Spring Hill and Franklin, November 29 and 30, respectively:

On the morning of the 29th of November the Fourth Corps (three divisions) and the Twenty-third Corps (two divisions) were in position on the north bank of Duck River, opposite Columbia, Tenn. The enemy, or the larger portion of the rebel army, was upon the south bank and confronting our lines. At 9 a.m. the Second Division, Fourth Corps, marched for Spring Hill, accompanied by and guarding all the trains of the army, with the exception of twenty ambulances left with the First and Third Divisions, Fourth Corps, which divisions were ordered to remain with the Twenty-third Corps until dark and then withdraw with the rest of the army. About 2 p.m., the head of column being within one mile of Spring Hill, the general commanding was informed that the cavalry of the enemy was pushing back our cavalry and rapidly approaching the town. The troops were at once pushed forward at double-quick, passed through the town, charged the enemy, checked him, and finally caused him to retire. The division was then placed in position to protect the pike on which the trains were moving. About 4 p.m. the right brigade (Third Brigade, Brigadier-General Bradley) was furiously attacked by what afterward proved to be two brigades of rebel infantry. The attack was continued until nearly dark, when our right gave way toward the pike, followed by the enemy. Fortunately, however, all trains had then passed and were parked north of the town, where also division hospitals were temporarily established and the wounded rapidly cared for. A few wounded were unavoidably lost when the right gave way. One hundred and fifteen wounded were brought to hospital. Shortly after dark orders were given to break up hospitals, load ambulances, and be ready to move with the other trains at a moment's notice. The rest of the army reached Spring Hill about 10 p.m., and continued their march through the town toward Franklin. The hospital and ambulance trains moved at the same time, reaching Franklin at 10 a.m. November 30, without loss, although several times attacked by the enemy's cavalry. The wounded and sick were shipped by rail to Nashville early in the afternoon. The two divisions of the Twenty-third Corps, with the First and Second Divisions of the Fourth Corps, remained south of Harpeth River and intrenched themselves; the Third Division, Fourth Corps, crossed to the north side of the river, and was not engaged in the battle of Franklin.

At about 1 p.m. November 30 the enemy appeared in force opposite our lines. At 3.30 p.m., as it was determined to withdraw at dark toward Nashville, orders were given to send all trains, except half the ambulances of each division, to Nashville. Soon after the trains were fairly on the road the enemy commenced a furious attack upon the entire lines. Six distinct assaults were made, and, by hard fighting, were repulsed, with great loss to the enemy. As soon as the firing commenced orders were sent for the hospital wagons to be parked in the nearest field, and the tents to be temporarily pitched, all ambulances to return and cross the river. Efforts were then made to obtain a train of cars for the wounded; the commanding general, however, did not deem it best that one should be telegraphed for. Owing to the intense darkness and imperfect provision for crossing and recrossing the river, the movements of ambulances were necessarily retarded. The wounded were collected at hospital as rapidly as possible. The town was thoroughly searched for wounded. Orders were issued for the withdrawal of troops at 12 o'clock. The ambulances worked constantly until 11 p.m., and were then loaded to their utmost with wounded collected at hospitals. Such slight cases of disease as remained were loaded upon army wagons. The hospitals and ambulance trains were the last to draw out, and were closely followed by the troops; 550 wounded were brought off. From all that can be ascertained it is probable that from 75 to 100 wounded of this corps were left in the hands of the enemy. Many rebel wounded fell into our hands, but were left for want of transportation. The ambulance train reached Nashville at 9 a.m. December 1, and the wounded were placed in general hospital. The following casualties occurred in the ambulance corps of Fourth Army Corps.*

Lists of wounded and tabular statements of wounded have already been forwarded.

Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

J. THEO. HEARD,        

Surgeon, U. S. Volunteers.

Surg. GEORGE E. COOPER, U.S. Army,
        Medical Director, Department of the Cumberland.

HEADQUARTERS FOURTH ARMY CORPS,                

MEDICAL DIRECTOR'S OFFICE,        

Huntsville, Ala., January —, 1865.

SIR: I have the honor to submit the following report of the operations of the medical department of this corps during the battles of December 15 and 16, near Nashville, Tenn.:

On the morning of December 14 orders were received to be ready at 6 a.m. December 15 to move upon the enemy's position. The hospitals of this corps, which, since the 2d of the month, had been located near the city on the Franklin pike, were ordered to be broken up and the hospital train to be parked on the Hillsborough pike, there to remain until further developments; the sick were transferred to general hospital. At 7 a.m. December 15 the troops of this corps moved out by the Hillsborough pike in front of the line of works occupied by them during the two weeks previous, and formed as follows: First Division on the right, connecting with the left of Maj. Gen. A. J. Smith's command; Second Division on the left of the First; and the Third Division on the left of the Second and somewhat retired. The hospitals of the corps were at once established directly on the Hillsborough pike, and about a quarter of a mile in rear of the line of works. The site selected was the lawn in front of a large brick house; water was abundant and good. Detachments from each division ambulance train were close in rear of the troops; the remaining ambulances were parked in rear of the works and ready to move out when required; the stretchermen were with their respective regiments. During the fighting of the 15th ultimo the line of this corps was advanced nearly two miles. The loss in wounded was not severe, being only 203 men. The wounded were promptly removed from the field and cared for at division hospitals. The majority of the wounds were caused by conoidal balls. After dark, the fighting having ceased and all operations and dressings having been attended to, the wounded were transferred to general hospital. As the position of the corps had now changed from the Hillsborough pike to the Franklin pike, the hospital train was ordered to be loaded and ready to move at daylight on the 16th ultimo.

On the morning of the 16th ultimo the position of the troops of this corps was as follows: The Third Division on the left of the Franklin pike, connecting with the right of Major-General Steedman's command; Second Division in center; and the First Division on the right, connecting with the command of Maj. Gen. A. J. Smith. The hospitals were located on the right and left of the Franklin pike at "The Springs," about two miles in advance of the old line of works; the ambulances were near the troops. The fighting of to-day was much more severe than that of yesterday, although the casualties were wonderfully slight. Four hundred and ninety-five men of this corps were wounded and taken to hospital. Shell wounds were of more frequent occurrence than on the previous day. At night the wounded, after being attended to, were ordered to be transferred to general hospital and the hospital trains to be loaded and ready to move at early day, either for the establishment of the hospitals near the troops in the event of another battle, or to be ready to follow the corps in case, as was probable, the enemy should retreat.

The medical and ambulance officers of the corps deserve great praise for the faithful and efficient manner in which they performed their arduous duties. With little or no rest for fifty hours, they yet cheerfully and fearlessly continued at their posts. I can truly say that I have never seen wounded more promptly removed from the field or better cared for in division hospitals. Medical and hospital supplies were abundant and rations plenty. There were no casualties in the ambulance corps or among medical officers.

The following number of wounded of other commands was received into hospitals of this corps, viz: Rebels, 15; Twelfth U.S. Colored Troops, 2; Thirteenth U.S. Colored Troops, 40; Fourteenth U.S. Colored Troops, 1; One hundredth U.S. Colored Troops, 3; total of other commands, 61.

Inclosed are lists of rebel wounded received into hospitals of this command.

The battle reports of division hospitals have been forwarded.

Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

J. THEO. HEARD,        

Surgeon, U.S. Volunteers, Medical Director.

Surg. GEORGE E. COOPER, U.S. Army,
        Medical Director, Department of the Cumberland.

_______________

* Nominal list (omitted) shows 1 killed, 3 wounded, and 1 missing.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 45, Part 1 (Serial No. 93), pp. 174-7

Diary of Musician David Lane, August 7, 1863

It was with a bounding heart, brimful of gratitude to God, that I stepped on board the Dakota and bade farewell to Haines Bluff on the second day of August. We have three hundred sick and wounded on this boat and are short of help. Quite a number who started as nurses are sick. Four men died the first night. We ran the boat ashore, dug a grave large enough for all, and laid them in it, side by side. Our Chaplain read the burial service, and we hastened on board to repeat the ceremony, the next morning, for some one else. It seems hard—even cruel—but it is the most solemn burial service I ever witnessed. Nine have died since we started, and one threw himself overboard in the frenzy of delirium and was drowned. We kill a beef every evening. Two nights in succession the best part of a hindquarter has been stolen. The boat hands were questioned, and a huge Irishman acknowledged the theft. He was court martialed and sentenced to be "banked." The boat was stopped opposite a wilderness. No human habitation was in sight. He was forced to pack his bundle, take to the woods and run his chance with hunger and the Rebels.

As we were running leisurely along, about 3 o'clock in the afternoon of yesterday, my curiosity was aroused by our boat running suddenly against the shore and sticking there. All hands were called, and, with the aid of soldiers, she was soon shoved off, and on we went again. A Sergeant asked the Mate why we landed there. His reply was, "Something wrong in the wheel house." One of our boys asked a darkey the same question. "Well, boss, I 'specs dey see a rabbit ober dere, an' t'ink dey kotch 'im." Soon after, as two comrades and myself were sitting in the bow enjoying the cool breeze, my attention was attracted by the glassy stillness of the water in front of us. Pointing to the right, I said, "Yonder is the safe place to sail." The words had scarcely left my mouth when we felt a sudden shock, the bow of the boat was lifted about two feet, a full head of steam was turned on, which carried us over the obstruction. We had "struck a snag." Soon after, we anchored for the night, as the pilot was "too sick" to run the boat.

The sick from our regiment are doing well. I never saw wounded men do so nicely. Of five who came as nurses, four are on the sick list. As for myself, I have not been so well in years.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 74-5

Diary of Musician David Lane, August 11, 1863

Louisville, Ky. Again in Louisville—eleven hundred miles nearer home than one week ago and yet how far. Still, it is joy to feel I am comparatively near. We reached Cairo on the evening of the seventh, took on fresh supplies, and left next day at noon for Cincinnati, which place we expect to reach some time tomorrow. We are now—3 p. m. taking on coal, and will start in a few minutes.

The Ohio is very low-in places not more than three feet deep. We have brought up against sand bars and been forced to back off perhaps fifty times since leaving Cairo. From this place to Cincinnati, I am told, there are no obstructions. The most difficult part of our way was from New Albany to Louisville. We were six hours in making three miles last night. It was nothing but "Back 'er and try again" for about a mile, and then we had a canal with three locks to pass through.

We have had no deaths since the seventh, and our sick and wounded boys are doing nicely. These fresh northern breezes are more exhilerating than wine, and the hope that they may be sent to their homes to recruit their health is more healing than medicine.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 75-6

Diary of Musician David Lane, August 12, 1863

Cincinnati, Ohio. We arrived here at 9:30 this morning. My day's work is, at last, completed, at 9 p. m. This has been a busy day. In fact, I have not been idle or had much rest, by day or night, since July fourth, and yet I am fresh and vigorous as in days of old. The sick and wounded all removed the worst cases to the General Hospital in this city, the convalescents to Camp Denison, eighteen miles out, while a few return to their regiments.

The Seventeenth passed through here today, and is now in camp near Covington, on the opposite bank of the river.

I expect to join them in the morning, and look for a handful of letters.

People call the weather here very hot, but it is not Mississippi heat, and I enjoy it. The mornings and evenings are delightfully cool, while there it is constant, relentless heat both day and night. Here a coat is comfortable in the morning—there one needs no cover day or night.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 76-7

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

Our battery moved back last night about one mile and camped on Hogan's farm. This morning when we awoke we found a party of eight hundred Yankee prisoners at Hogan's house. Amongst them were several surgeons, and they actually refused to attend to their own wounded, but insisted, as surgeons were non-combatants, that they should be sent to Richmond and immediately returned to the North.

A great number of wounded Yankees have been brought in by our men, and are receiving all proper attention. We moved forward to Gaines's house, where we remained all day, but near us there was no more fighting.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 122

Diary of Private Adam S. Johnston, October 9, 1862

Was hauled from off the battle-ground in an ambulance wagon at half past two in the morning. for fear of the enemy opening fire on our hospital or old house in which we remained all night from the day of the fight; having our batteries planted close by, if another engagement would ensue, they would draw the enemy's fire on our building. So we, four in number, were hauled five miles this morning to Antioch church, Boyle county, and thrown out in a pile like wood, for they had been removing wounded off the battle-ground all night until the church was perfectly filled, and under every shade tree nigh at hand. I rolled over and over, as I was so disabled that I could not walk, until I got to a fence, and with loss of blood and pain and fatigue, became sleepy in a short time after being left in this condition, I went to sleep and slept until after the sun was up, and on awaking I found myself completely tight against the above mentioned fence, on account of another wounded soldier dying while I was asleep, with his feet tight down the hill against me and his head up the hill, the ground being somewhat rolling, I called to a citizen close by, that had come to see the wounded soldiers, to come to me and remove the dead man, that I might help myself up by the fence. He removed the person, and throwed a blanket over the body to protect it until better attended to. I lay for six days out under a white oak tree, with my wound dressed once. Making a march of 5 miles.

SOURCE: Adam S. Johnston, The Soldier Boy's Diary Book, pp. 23-4

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, September 23, 1861

This afternoon I rode by a mountain path to a log cabin in which a half dozen wounded Tennesseeans are lying. One poor fellow had his leg amputated yesterday, and was very feeble. One had been struck by a ball on the head and a buckshot in the lungs. Two boys were but slightly wounded, and were in good spirits. To one of these-a jovial, pleasant boy—Dr. Seyes said, good humoredly: "You need have no fears of dying from a gunshot; you are too big a devil, and were born to be hung." Colonel Marrow sought to question this same fellow in regard to the strength of the enemy, when the boy said: "Are you a commissioned officer?" "Yes," replied Marrow. "Then," returned he," you ought to know that a private soldier don't know anything."

In returning to camp, we followed a path which led to a place where a regiment of the rebels had encamped one night. They had evidently become panic-stricken and left in hot haste. The woods were strewn with knapsacks, blankets, and canteens.

The ride was a pleasant one. The path, first wild and rugged, finally led to a charming little valley, through which Beckey's creek hurries down to the river. Leaving this, we traveled up the side of a ravine, through which a little stream fretted and fumed, and dashed into spray against slimy rocks, and then gathered itself up for another charge, and so pushed gallantly on toward the valley and the sunshine.

What a glorious scene! The sky filled with stars; the rising moon; two mountain walls so high, apparently, that one might step from them into heaven; the rapid river, the thousand white tents dotting the valley, the camp fires, the shadowy forms of soldiers; in short, just enough of heaven and earth visible to put one's fancy on the gallop. The boys are in groups about their fires. The voice of the troubadour is heard. It is a pleasant song that he sings, and I catch part of it.

"The minstrel 's returned from the war,

      With spirits as buoyant as air,

 And thus on the tuneful guitar

      He sings in the bower of the fair:

 The noise of the battle is over;

     The bugle no more calls to arms;

A soldier no more, but a lover,

     I kneel to the power of thy charms.

Sweet lady, dear lady, I'm thine;

     I bend to the magic of beauty,

Though the banner and helmet are mine,

     Yet love calls the soldier to duty."

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, pp. 68-9

Official Reports of the Engagement at Belmont, Missouri, and Demonstration from Paducah upon Columbus, Kentucky. November 7, 1861. No. 5. — Report of Col. Napoleon B. Buford, Twenty-seventh Illinois Infantry.

No. 5.

Report of Col. Napoleon B. Buford, Twenty-seventh Illinois Infantry.

HDQRS. TWENTY-SEVENTH REG'T ILL. VOLS.,        

Cairo, November 9, 1861.

SIR: I have the honor to report the part which my regiment took in the battle of Belmont on the 7th instant. The regiment, numbering 720 rank and file, were on board the steamer Montgomery at 4 o'clock p.m. of the 6th instant, which landed on the Kentucky shore at foot of Island No. 1 to await the following daybreak, at which time we steamed down the river to a point on the Missouri shore, in full view of the batteries at Columbus, Ky., and at 7 o'clock a.m. I landed the regiment, and took up the position assigned me by yourself on the right of the First Brigade, which was parallel to a bayou, which was in some places dry and in others impassable, and directly opposite one of the roads to Belmont, at the distance of 1¼ miles from the enemy's camp. I immediately advanced the first platoon of Company A, under the command of Captain Schmitt and Lieutenant Shipley, across the bayou into the woods, to ascertain the nature of the ground and discover the position of the enemy, whose drums were distinctly heard. The detachment had advanced only 100 yards before they were fired upon by a body of cavalry, which they repulsed. As soon as the firing was heard I advanced the remainder of Schmitt's company, and supported them with the whole regiment, which I caused to cross the bayou. Schmitt's company, having advanced about 200 yards farther, were again fired upon by a larger body of cavalry, wounding one of his men, which he gallantly repulsed a second time. At this time, by your orders, Colonel Fouke brought up his regiment to my support, which he quickly formed on my left, and sent out two of his companies as skirmishers. It was here that you found me in advance of the place assigned me, and as the artillery and the other regiments, not of your brigade, had not yet come up, by your orders I moved back to the right of my first position, with Fouke's and Logan's regiments all formed in line of battle.

While waiting for the arrival of Taylor's battery, my regiment was advanced half a mile to the right, and companies A and B sent forward under the command of Captain Schmitt, with orders to feel the enemy and engage him if found in that direction. Taylor's battery having arrived, the whole attacking force, with the exception of my regiment, moved forward on the direct road to Belmont, and the engagement  became warm, you leading your brigade. From the information I received I became assured that the road I was on led to the rear of Belmont, and that by following it rapidly I would get into action at the right time and in the right place.

Guided by the sound of the fierce battle in which you were all the time engaged, I moved forward. At my request you had detached Captain Bielaski, one of your aides, to attend me, who rode with me at the head of the regiment. As we pressed forward in the woods, Captain Dollins, with his cavalry, appeared on my left, and obeyed my orders with alacrity to go forward and discover the enemy.

Our road soon led to a full view of the river and Wolf's Island, below Belmont, where we met straggling soldiers retreating, of whom we captured several, Captain Parke securing the first one. The troops became animated and quickened their step, and came in sight of the camp, which was defended with an almost impassable abatis of huge sycamore trees.

I here formed our line of battle, the right opposite the abatis, the left in the open space in full view of Columbus, and under the fire of the field artillery in Belmont and the enemy's guns on the opposite side of the river. As we approached by the right flank, before the line could be formed at right angles we received a heavy fire of muskery, which killed and wounded some of my men. While forming under fire the gallant Captain Bielaski, on his charger, was seen animating the men and assisting in forming the line. His heroic bearing was observed by us all. After having his horse shot under him he seized a flag, and, advancing with shouts, he fell mortally wounded. Lieutenant-Colonel Harrington and Adjutant Rust were near me on the right, leading bravely forward, while Major Wilson was doing the same on the left. The nature of the ground, the obstacles, and the heavy cannonading which was reaching us caused each company to take up the best position it could, and all kept up a constant fire, which soon drove the enemy from his camp. Here we lost about 9 killed and 30 wounded.

My next order was to advance over the abatis on the right and across the plain on the left, and occupy the camp over which the enemy's flag still waved. The order was obeyed on the double-quick, and the camp entered simultaneously by companies A, Captain Schmitt, and G, Captain Southward and others in such quick succession that I could not distinguish which went forward with most alacrity. Captain Schmitt, with part of his company, and Lieutenant Lytle, with part of Southward's company, were the first to reach the flag, which was torn down by their joint efforts, and it remained in the hands of Lieutenant Lytle, who brought it away, a trophy well earned by the intrepidity he displayed during the whole day. As we advanced to make this attack the "Star-Spangled Banner," borne by Fouke's, Logan's, and other of the regiments engaged, was seen steadily advancing on our left; Taylor's battery was brought forward and opened fire, the enemy's artillery was captured, and we had possession of Belmont.

While these deeds were being enacted you rode into our midst, and it was by your order that my regiment fired the camp. We had taken about 70 prisoners and many muskets, pistols, horses, and trophies. I placed the prisoners under charge of Captain Schmitt, who was wounded in the enemy's camp, and he and Captain Miles, with other prisoners he had captured, began to return to the boats. Shot and shell from Columbus made it necessary that my regiment should now fall back behind the abatis and into the woods. The victory appeared won. We commenced retiring to our boats, but soon a new attack, made by fresh troops, who had been landed from Columbus in the woods, intercepted our march. We returned their fire by a part of our regiment, and sought to find a new route to return. Covered by the woods, and guided by the descending sun, I led the regiment northward until I reached the bayou we had marched around in the morning to outflank the enemy, and recognizing the position, went confidently around it and got within 1 mile of the starting-point of the morning, but was admonished to take a northerly direction by the continued sound of musketry between us and where our boats were left in the morning and by the heavy cannonading from our own gunboats. We marched northward in rear of the farms on Lucas Bend, a distance of about 3 miles, before returning to the river near sunset, exposed during the whole march to the shot and shell of our own gunboats, which happily did us no injury.

On reaching the river the fleet of gunboats and steamboats were all far in advance, steaming towards Cairo. We marched forward, greatly fatigued, with the prospect of a long night's march. Our wounded men were limping along, and all our horses were surrendered to them. The sun was setting. I met a settler, who had a frank, honest face, from whom I borrowed his horse, and mounted Adjutant Rust upon him to gallop forward, and if possible reach the steamer which was nearest us. The steamer was seen to be halting, floating back to Beckwith's Landing. The adjutant reached the steamer Chancellor, hailed, and was answered by General McClernand that he was halting with the steamer and the two gunboats to take all on board. We soon met you on the shore, happy in knowing you had bravely led the brigade and continued unwearied in securing its safety.

And now how shall I distinguish those of my own command who did nobly? 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. My thanks are due to Lieutenant-Colonel Harrington, to Major Wilson, and to Adjutant Rust, who nobly assisted in forming the line under the fire and rallying the troops and in covering the retreat; also to Captains Schmitt, Parke, Moore, Miles, Southward, Brooks, Merrill, and Bozarth, and all the officers under their command; also to Sergeant Jansen, of Company A, and Fourth Sergeant McCormick, of Company B, whom I observed nobly doing their duty. Surg. E. H. Bowman was at his post, dressed the first wounded man, and was the last to leave his post. Happy am I that he is safe. Assistant Surgeon Barrell remained at home by my order to take care of the sick, but obeyed reluctantly. Quartermaster Sears solicited me to accompany the expedition, but as we took no train, I left him in command of the camp at home. Chaplain Rev. Dr. S. Y. McMasters accompanied the expedition, and was unwearied in consoling and dressing the wounded.

We lost 11 killed, 42 wounded, 28 missing, and 14 known to be prisoners. Among the mortally wounded was Lieut. William Shipley, of Company A, from Quincy, a young man of rare merits. He had for some time been unwell, and was by me directed to remain in camp; but when the column marched he was at his post, radiant with smiles, and was in the battle from first to last, receiving his wound on the retreat within a mile of the boats.

All of which is respectfully submitted.

N. B. BUFORD,        

Colonel Twenty-seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteers.

Brig. Gen. JOHN A. McCLERNAND,
        Commanding First Brigade Illinois Volunteers.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 3 (Serial No. 3), pp. 283-5