Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones: Monday, November 17, 1862

La Grange, Tenn. Awoke to hear the rain pattering briskly on the Sibley [tent] above me. We were called out, and with expectations to march, we drew three days' rations in our haversacks. 8 A. M. the rain cleared off and the column of infantry began to move by on the road leading to Holly Springs. At 9 A. M. we fell in rear of column. We marched west about three quarters of a mile, then turned north toward La Grange; travelled through very pretty country. We halted at Wolf River to water our horses, fill our canteens and ate a dinner of hard crackers and sugar. Ascended a steep hill, half a mile in length, on the top of which was situated La Grange, when we turned westward and travelled until 7 P. M. Encamped on a hill. Killed a beef for supper.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 13

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones: Tuesday, November 18, 1862

Moscow, Tenn. Up at 4 A. M., cooked our breakfast and again on the road by 6 o'clock, and after a four hours' march through a broken country, well cleared, persimmons plenty, we arrived at Moscow, where we went into camp for the time. Rode to water through a town completely deserted, no trace of a citizen. I, as could be expected, was bothered on the march by my foot and could not have kept up, were it not for S. E. Sweet, who allowed me to ride his colt part of the time.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 13

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Benjamin F. Pearson, December 31, 1862

At 8½ Oc we started from our moorings at the boat landing in ft Pickering Memphis Tenn we left Seargent R Murdock & 6 privates from our Co Gin hospital & our 1st Lieut Wm M McCreary was taken from the hospital last evening & put in a packet for St Louis where he intends going into hospital he has been quite poorly since the 1st of Dec not one day able for duty & from our election of Co officers on the 14th of Aug he was not one hour with us untill the 1st of Oct & was quite unwell by times between the 1st of Oct & the 1st of Dec. He has now resigned & there will be another Lieut to appoint     at ¼ to 3 Oc afternoon we landed at Hellena Arkansas it is a low muddy place with numerous ponds of filthy green looking watter, it is small villedge built of frame

SOURCE: Edgar R. Harlan, Currator, Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 15, No. 2, October 1925, pp. 101-2

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop, Wednesday, July 29, 1864

Had Job greater patience? Here are men of true mettle or we might see them knocking at the gate to swear fidelity to foes. To lie down is to submit to be eaten by lice and rot. When strength fails, such is the lot of all. "All that a man hath will he give for his life." But what have we to give? A great deal of money will get a little flour from Rebels, such is their love of money. But their lack of love for humanity feeds us husks and loathsome things. We are in prison and they visit us with torments and reproaches; we are athirst and they give us to drink of water tainted with filth and excrement; sick and afflicted and they torture us; weak and weary and they give us to rest on the sand filthy and full of breeding vermin; shelterless and they give us no roof; lacking raiment and they take much that we have.

A man shot dead, the ball passing directly through his head back of the ears, while kneeling near the dead line innocently looking at something. He had just come in and was unwarned.

I bought an egg for 20 cents, a small biscuit for 25 cents for supper with proceeds from the tin kettle sold.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 94

Diary of Major Joseph Stockton, May 18, 1863

Roads terribly dusty and weather hot. Marched quick time; water scarce, rations reduced, consisting of two pieces of hard tack and half rations of coffee a day since leaving Grand Gulf. Sherman's corps got ahead of us. Reached our long-looked-for destination at last, the rear of Vicksburg. We arrived about dusk a mile outside of the rebel fortifications. Sherman's corps marched to the right of the Jackson Road, the one on which we entered, their right extending to the Mississippi River (north of Vicksburg), McPherson's corps coming next, and Ransom's brigade being in the front. took position on Sherman's left, and McClernand's corps coming in on another road took position on McPherson's left, and at last we had the rebels hemmed in Vicksburg, the goal of our hopes for months past, the object of so many hard marches, the rebel stronghold in the West, the only point that kept the Mississippi River from being free to the North. The 72d Ill. was thrown out as advance guard that night and myself as officer of the guard. Although completely worn out I did not dare to sleep, but kept moving from point to point all night. At one time a party of cavalry came riding along the road on which I had posted some men, and although dressed in our uniform my men would not let them pass until they had sent for me. I recognized one of the officers and permitted them to go through. A large fire was burning in Vicksburg, but we could not discover what it was. We knew there would be bloody work for the morrow, as we would have to assault their works to get into Vicksburg.

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

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan, Sunday, February 26, 1865

Fine day. hunt shells on the beach, see the porpoises, &c camp on banks of white sand covered with scrub oaks plenty of fresh water by digging in the sand. boys wade in the bay & gather oysters Plenty of them. troops landing nearly all the time, can send no mail

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. 575-6

Diary of Private John C. West, Friday, May 22, 1863

Left Raleigh about 9 o'clock yesterday morning. The road from Raleigh to Weldon is the most crooked and through the most broken country I ever saw. Every foot of it is over an embankment or through a deep cut. The land along the route is all poor and barren and yet there are some beautiful residences and the people seem to be doing well. How they live I cannot tell. There were occasionally fine apple orchards and clover fields. I had the good fortune to meet up with Mr. Carpenter, a member of the North Carolina legislature. He was a pleasant companion and had some genuine whiskey, having married the heiress of a distiller. I made also the acquaintance of an old gentleman named Miller, who was on his way to Richmond to see two wounded nephews, one of whom had lost an arm; he also had some whiskey, which he said came from the drug store and must be good. He had also some cakes, good ham and fresh butter, which I enjoyed very much. He is a Baptist and is acquainted with Mr. Lemmond, of Waco, Texas. We reached Weldon about 5 o'clock in the afternoon, and as the cars were not to start until 9 o'clock, I concluded to take a stroll. I obtained a drink of the coldest water I ever drank and observed the address of Captain H. A. Troutman on a box, which put me on the lookout for him. I soon met him and we had a long talk on old college times. He had married a Miss Napier. John Neely is dead; Miss Lou is married to Ed. McClure. Billy Clifton has become a devout Baptist. Charley Boyd, John McLemore and Lucius Gaston are all killed; murdered by fanatical vandals; ten thousand mercenaries cannot pay for such men as these. They helped to make and adorn the character of a noble people. They were all my college friends. We loved each other and cherished common hopes of a happy future.

I went to supper with Troutman. He boards with the post commissary, who, of course, gets a little of everything. We had light rolls, scrambled eggs, genuine coffee, salmon, etc., for supper. The commissary is run by Mr. Peterson, brother of Judge Peterson, of San Antonio, Texas. We left Weldon at 9 o'clock and jogged along slowly until about 3 o'clock a. m., when we reached Petersburg. I shouldered my carpet-bag, overcoat and blanket and walked a mile to the depot. Cars left Petersburg about 5 o'clock a. m., and ran so slowly that I had ample time to inspect the country. When we came within eight miles of Richmond I observed a large amount of timber felled on either side of the road and fortifications thrown up to prevent the advance of the Yanks. When we came within three miles of Richmond one of the bars which connects the cars broke, and we were detained for half an hour or more, but another engine very opportunely came up behind us and pushed us on to Richmond. I found it a much more beautiful place than I had anticipated. The scenery in crossing James River is especially attractive. I put up at the American Hotel and spent the day in wandering "up and down" and "going to and fro" in it. I called on Miss Wigfall, Mrs. Chestnut, Miss Nannie Norton (who was absent), Miss Mary Fisher, Mr. and Mrs. Barnwell and met there Mrs. Carter. Called at the Cabinet Quarters and delivered to C. S. Senator Hon. James Chestnut, a letter (from Hon. Guy M. Bryan, of Texas) to the president. I went to the Ballard House to see Hon. H. P. Brewster, of Texas; was unable to find him. Delivered Mr. Carter's letter to Mr. Winston, who was too busy to notice me, so I retired. I gave him also the letter to Mrs. Benton. Dined with Colonel and Mrs. Chestnut, in company with Billy Preston, who is now major of artillery. Had fish and corn bread, rice and lettuce for dinner, with iced whiskey to wash it down. After dinner went to the Spotswood Hotel, met Captain Rice and Jimmy Winn, also Minnie Moses, whom I have not seen for eight years. He is a clerk in some of the departments. I returned to Miss Mary Fisher's in the afternoon and left my overcoat in her charge. I am too tired to make comments, though I have seen a great deal to write about. I am writing this in the public room of the American Hotel about 11 o'clock at night. They have charged me $7.50 for supper, night's lodging and breakfast.

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. 49-52

Diary of Private John C. West, Sunday, May 31, 1863

This morning about daylight we received orders to be ready to march at 8:30. All is bustle now getting ready. I have been to the spring for water and have just returned; have read the 52nd chapter of Isaiah, and 35th Psalm; am now about to pack up.

Sunday evening at sunset.—We have marched about fourteen miles to-day—a hot dusty march. Nothing of interest occurred. We are now bivouacked in a pine grove twenty miles from Fredericksburg, with our arms stacked with orders to be ready to leave at a moment's notice. The march has not fatigued me anything like as much as many hunts I have taken at home. Some friend of the soldiers has been kind enough to send us a number of religious papers, and I am now enjoying the "Christian Observer," published at Richmond.

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. 56-7

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones: Wednesday, November 12, 1862

Grand Junction, Tenn. It having rained during the night, the dust was converted to mud. Ate a breakfast of cold beef and bread, filled our canteens with water, when we scrambled on top the freight cars in order to procure transportation. It was raining, and when the train was in motion the smoke and cinders were torturing. Arrived at Jackson at 1 P. M. Waited an hour for dinner, then took Mississippi Central R. R. for Grand Junction. Remained at Medon Station till 6 P. M. when G. M. Spencer and I spread our blankets and laid down; awoke at Grand Junction at 3 Α. Μ.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 12

Diary of Musician David Lane, August 16, 1863

Camp near Hickman's Bridge, Ky. I did not join the regiment as soon as I expected, owing to the negligence of the Medical Director, whose duty it was to furnish me transportation. As I had no money, I was forced to await his pleasure. The regiment took cars for this place the day they crossed over, so I was left in Cincinnati until Friday evening to live as best I might. I crossed the river on Friday, and next morning took cars for Nicholasville, fourteen miles beyond Lexington, and one hundred fifteen miles from Cincinnati. I was just in time to get two months' pay. I should have drawn for two months more, but there was a mistake in the pay rolls, which cannot be corrected until next muster. The Paymaster says he is going to pay us again next month, and the next time muster us out of the service.

We have a very pleasant camp, in a shady grove, and an abundance of pure, sparkling water, which I appreciate now as I never did before.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 77

Diary of Musician David Lane, August 22, 1863

I had comforted myself with the reflection that when we returned to Kentucky, where communications were uninterrupted by guerillas, and were only separated by twenty-four hours of time, I might be permitted to correspond with my family without such harrowing delays, for I would not have my darling in doubt as to my situation or whereabouts for one single day, knowing, as I do, the uncertainty of suspense is worse than the reality. But 'tis said, "The darkest hour is just before the dawn," and, even as I write, my mind filled with dark thoughts, a ray of light from my Northern home flashes across my vision. The whole current of my thought is changed, and thankfulness takes the place of my repining. Thankfulness that it is as well with my beloved ones as it is. Oh, that I could remove every burden, and make their pathway smooth and flowery. I find most of our trials are imaginary, but none the less real for being SO. For instance, my beloved wife's imagination pictures me on my weary way back to old Virginia's blood-stained fields, subject to every hardship, exposed to every danger, and her suffering could be no greater if it were so. On the contrary, I am still in Kentucky, in a pleasant, shady grove, enjoying a season of welcome quiet and repose, soft bread to eat, plenty of pure, cold water to drink. What more could mortals crave. The newspapers were right, as far as they went, about our being ordered to the Potomac. We did receive such orders, but General Burnside telegraphed the War Department the Ninth Corps had marched, during the year, an average of twenty miles a day; that it had just returned from an exhausting campaign in Mississippi; that the men were worn down by fatigue and sickness, and were unfit for active service, and asked that they be allowed to remain here for a season. His request was granted. One year has passed since I left my pleasant home to serve my country a year big with the fate of millions yet unborn—a year the most eventful in our history; perhaps in the world's history.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 81-2

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, February 2, 1863

Passed Roanoke on our right, about eight o'clock this morning; sea smooth and weather pleasant. Had a good breakfast of dried beef and water. We entered Roanoke river for the second trip on it about noon, and after about four hours' pleasant sail we were alongside the wharf at Plymouth. Since we were here in November the town has become sadly demoralized. The rebels entered it one fine day and drove what troops were there into the Custom House, and then set fire to the place, destroying the larger part. It is decided not to disembark the regiment till to-morrow. The cooks are ashore somewhere, and are making our coffee, while we are lounging round on deck and through the vessel, having a free and easy time, or located in some cosey nook writing up.

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. 36

Diary of Private Adam S. Johnston, October 8, 1862

Left McMinnville camp in the morning, the colonel telling us, ''Boys, you have longed to meet the enemy on the battle-field, and you will have a chance to-day, or do without water, as the enemy holds the spring that we will have to encamp at." The shout went up from every son of Uncle Sam's family, ,, [sic]     A fight and water we will have." The cannons were already booming, and had been all night, so at fifteen minutes past two o'clock we became engaged, and in one hour and three-quarters we lost two hundred and eleven men out of our regiment (the 79th Pa. Vol. Infantry). We went into the fight with forty-three men in our company (D) and came out with eighteen, having had twenty-five wounded and killed; two killed dead and two dying the next day. I myself was unfortunate enough to be shot through the left leg, about two inches below the knee, the ball glancing off the bone and passing through and out at the fleshy part or calf of the leg, injuring the muscle so that I was unfit for fight, and was sent to the rear after the fifteenth fire. This is my first and last wound received in the battle of Chaplin Hill or Chaplin Heights, so called, and fought on the 8th day of October. 1862. in Boyle county, Ky. Making a march of 8 miles.

SOURCE: Adam S. Johnston, The Soldier Boy's Diary Book, pp. 22-3

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Tuesday, July 5, 1864

We moved back to the old side, five of us, unbeknown to Rebs, it being improved by the removal of so many to the new part, and to get near the well we dug, for we were fifty rods from water. About 3 p. m. the mule teams came to the north gate; the boys cry "rations," the first issued for over sixty hours. I know no other reason for this than that the first night after the new part of the prison was occupied men carried off timbers of the old north wall for wood or for huts. On July 2nd Capt. Wirz directed that no rations be issued until every stick was replaced. He was heard to say on the 3rd, at the gate, that he would "learn the G-d d--n Yankees that he was in command and if the sons of b-----s died like hell, there would be enough left." I paid ten cents for a small rotting apple; it was good. The 6th, Sherman's men report Johnston whipped at all points; the 8th, behind the Chattahoochee, Sherman crossing on his flank; Grant's, Richmond in danger; Lee's cornbread line troubled. The Southern slave empire must come down. Billy Decker, prisoner since October, a Belle Islander, "Pinch's" old playmate, is stopping with us. He belongs to the 1st U. S. dragoons; is from Steuben county, New York.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 85

Diary of Major Joseph Stockton, April 16, 1863

Went into camp, and a hard place it is; wood scarce and "water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink," except the Mississippi water, which is very trying on one's constitution. Tonight I witnessed one of the grandest sights I was ever permitted to witness. Through the kindness of some officers I got on board the steamer "Quincy South" and went down again to see the running of the batteries. The night was a pleasant one, stars shining brightly and not a cloud in the heavens, and yet not too light. I went down to within two miles of Vicksburg and could see the lights in the city and on the bluffs distinctly. About half past nine I saw some dark objects floating down the river so noiselessly that you could scarcely detect them; not a light was to be seen on them. The transports, with barges of cotton and hay lashed to them on the Vicksburg side, and cotton piled up around their boilers and engines to protect them from the cannon shot. I fairly held my breath; not a sound was to be heard; all was anxiety and suspense; my thoughts were with the brave men who were to undertake such a perilous voyage. I waited for the first shot; after about half an hour's suspense I saw all at once a brilliant light, which was the signal for the rebels, and then it seemed as if a hundred guns opened at once. The rebels built a large bonfire which lit up the river for miles. Oh, what a sight it was the flash of the cannon, the bursting of shells, but above all the deafening roar, which was like peal after peal of the loudest thunder. How I trembled for the fate of those on board the transports, as they were not near so well protected as those on the gunboats. I saw one of the steamers which the officers on board said was the "Henry Clay" floating by the city, burning. How I hope all the rest have gone safely through the fiery path. I am to be envied, as I do not believe there is another officer in our brigade that has had an opportunity to see this scene. I await the news with great anxiety and refer those who read these pages to an abler pen than mine to do this heroic act full justice.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 12

Diary of Major Joseph Stockton, April 23, 1863

Left Milliken's Bend and had one of the hardest marches on account of heat we have ever had. The distance was only twelve miles, yet it was across a country devoid of trees, and in the middle of the day the heat was dreadful; water scarce—more straggling than ever before, except on one occasion. Reached Richmond, La., about dark. I was posted at the entrance of the town to post the men, as they came straggling in, where the camp was.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 13

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: December 10, 1862

Off the coast of Florida. We must be going to New Orleans as has been reported. I did not believe it at first, as there was a report that Charleston was our destination.

Haight died about sunrise, and his death has cast a gloom over Company B. He was one of the best fellows I have met with in the army. He was a little wild at first but later seemed to change. Talked of the trouble his habits had caused his parents and seemed determined to atone for it by a right about face change. We shall miss his cheery voice. Such is war. It is over thirty-six days since the 128th and two companies of the 114th New York came aboard this vessel. It is a wonder so many are alive to-day. We get on deck now and the nights are so warm some of us sleep there. We suffer for good water to drink. What we have may be good, but it is distilled water, and there are so many of us we use it before it has time to get cold. On the quarter-deck, where we are not allowed to go, are barrels which contain real water, for officers' use only. I was let into a secret last night, how to get some of it, and I drank all I could hold. With a long rubber tube I crawled up behind a barrel and let the end down the bunghole, which is left open for ventilation, and sucked away as long as I could swallow. This will go on until someone is caught at it, and then the game will be up.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, pp. 69-70

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 Musician David Lane, July 20, 1863

Vicksburg is ours; Johnson defeated and his forces scattered; our work in Mississippi is performed, and we have taken up the line of march for some other distant field.

We left Jackson at 3 a. m. today for Haines Bluff, where we take transports for some point north or east. I think I will be glad to put in the balance of my work a little farther north, although I would not hesitate to go anywhere, so I might contribute my mite toward putting down this rebellion. But, other things being equal, I would choose to be where we could get pure water, and, what I prize more than all else, hear from my loved family with some degree of regularity. It has been a sore trial, and hard to bear, to be compelled to wait for days and weeks for tidings from a sick and suffering wife.

We marched twelve miles this forenoon, and have halted for dinner. Fifteen miles must be made this afternoon to obtain water. It is a tough march, but necessity compels. It would seem that, in an emergency like this, when our lives depend upon our "staying power," some unseen hand sustains us. As for myself, I have never borne hard marches so well as in Mississippi.

I see by the papers there is much talk of the Rebels carrying the war into the North. Well, let them go. "Whom the gods would destroy they first make mad." I am not sure but it is the only thing that can unite the North; certainly it will hasten the downfall of the Confederacy.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 69-70

Diary of Musician David Lane, July 29, 1863

Haines Bluff. We did not leave on the 23d, as was rumored, but are still in our old camp, enjoying a short season of repose preparatory to our voyage up the river. It is a repose much needed by our men. What prompted our commander to hurry us through as he did sixty miles in three days—I cannot conceive. Strict orders were issued against straggling. No man would be allowed to leave the ranks without a written pass from the Surgeon, and all stragglers were to be picked up by the Provost Guard and taken to headquarters for trial by court martial. The General "reckoned without his host." Some men, so great was their respect for discipline, marched in the ranks until they fell, in a dying condition. But most of them cursed the General and his orders and sat down to rest and cool off whenever their judgment told them they were getting too hot, and, when rested, came on again.

After the first day, no attention was paid to orders. Men fell out in such numbers the Provost could not arrest them, and came straggling into camp until nearly morning.

The next morning after our arrival, in the Seventeenth alone, one hundred twenty men were reported unfit for duty, and forty-five are now sick in hospital. Doubtless much of this sickness is the effect of the poisonous liquid we were compelled to use for cooking and drinking purposes. How grateful to us, then, is the delicious, sparkling water that flows in abundance from that romantic spring I described on our first arrival. Before I leave this subject, let me record our experience the week we were encamped before Jackson. The first day we used cistern water, but that soon failed. After that, all that was left for coffee and for cooking purposes was water from an artificial pond, scooped out in a barnyard, and all the battery and camp horses—five or six hundred of them in number—were watered there every day. They were ridden right into the pond! Rather than drink it, I have been three miles to the rear, after having been on duty all day, for a canteen of cistern water.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 71-2