Diary of Musician David Lane, September 14, 1863

We were aroused this morning at 3 o'clock and ordered to be ready to march at 5 o'clock. In a very few minutes hundreds of fires were brightly glowing, striving by their feeble rays to dispel the gloom of night. At the appointed hour we were up and away with hearts as light and buoyant as though privations, toil and danger were unknown. The morning was delightfully cool, and before the god of day had risen to scorch us with his burning rays, nearly half our day's march was done. The rest of the day was made easy by frequent halts, and when, at 2 o'clock p. m., we filed into line and stacked arms, all were agreeably surprised. We had marched twelve miles.

Today is the anniversary of our first battle—our baptism. The mind naturally reverts to that trying time, and all its scenes pass rapidly in review. Then, for the first time, we met face to face our country's foe. The chivalry of the South then met the mudsills of Michigan and learned to respect them. Today we met them again, but not in battle array. As we were starting, this morning, we came upon 2,300 prisoners taken at Cumberland Gap. They were free to talk, and a more ignorant lot of semi-savages I never met. We could not convince them that Vicksburg or Port Hudson were in our possession. They were very "frank," and indulged freely in epithets and pet names.

9 o'clock p. m.     Our camp is in a beautiful grove, on the banks of a "babbling brook." A cool, delicious breeze is gently blowing from the west. The sky is cloudless, and the bright, scintillating stars shine out in unwonted brilliancy, and the pale moon is pouring down upon the earth a flood of silvery light. It is an ideal night in which to rest after a fatiguing march-an ideal night, so seem to think our boys, in which to celebrate the anniversary of our first battle. The Sutler came up about sundown with the "accessories." The preliminaries have been gone through with, and the "celebration is in full blast." Pandemonium reigns. This quiet glen has been transformed, for the time being, into the council hall of demons. Men fall upon each other's necks and weep, and laugh, and drivel, and shout "’Rah for Seventeenth Michigan." It was an impressive ceremony, and one in which all allusions to the brave men who fell and sympathy for their bereaved families were considerately left out, lest they wound the tender sensibilities of the living.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 91-3

Diary of Musician David Lane, September 27, 1863

Knoxville, Tenn.     We are again under marching orders. It is rumored we go to Rosecrans' support tomorrow morning. Our boys are quite as enthusiastic as when they first left home, and for the same reason. They are ready to go anywhere—do anything to hasten the end. They have borne with wonderful fortitude the excessive fatigue of marching through a mountainous country. Burnside does not like to spare them—will not unless absolutely necessary. He owes something to the Ninth Army Corps. Those stars upon his epaulets that shine so brightly, and which he wears so jauntily, were won for him by the Ninth Army Corps. General Burnside is truly a noble man. We respect him for his honesty and frankness in acknowledging his mistakes as well as for his great administrative ability.

Our orders to march have just been countermanded. General Burnside told Colonel Luce he had received a despatch from Rosecrans that we are not needed at present. That seems to confirm the rumor of his success. We are having delightful weather, clear and cool.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 97

Diary of Private William S. White, July 2, 1862

We moved back a mile or so to the rear, and as we considered this a safe place our horses were "unhitched, unharnessed," etc., for the first time since the morning of the 26th, and we prepared ourselves for a good sleep—something we had not enjoyed for nearly a week. Towards morning it rained very hard for about three hours, but being so nearly broken down it did not even arouse me. It is a great wonder that this did not again cause a relapse, as I was still badly salivated. However, the excitement kept me up, and that being over I begin to feel the effects of my imprudence.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 124

Diary of Private William S. White, July 11, 1862

Raining very hard all day; 'tis extremely dull in camp. As is the weather so is the spirit; the sombre clouds of a gloomy day often cast an equal gloom over our spirits. Though McClellan's army has been seriously defeated, and his vain boastings brought to naught, yet he has succeeded in gaining a very strong position on the James River, near Charles City Courthouse, where he may now safely reorganize his army. Beyond a doubt, he displayed great Generalship in extricating his army from the perilous situation in which it was placed after the battle of Gaines's Mill.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 125

Diary of Private Adam S. Johnston, January 20, 1863

Left Nashville on foot to join my company and regiment again. Came twenty-three miles through rain, and the roads being very muddy, we encamped for the night in a cedar house, used by our videttes or dispatch carriers; a march of 23 miles.

SOURCE: Adam S. Johnston, The Soldier Boy's Diary Book, pp. 26-7

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Benjamin F. Pearson, December 14, 1862

4 Oc we ware on dress parade in the mud & rain 2½ Oc Brother Oiler Chaplain of the 21st Mo Inft preached to us text 1st psalm Capt Morton exorted he is of the Mo Inft night H D Morrison preached text take the whole armour Hare exorted & we had a speaking & it was a glorious time.

SOURCE: Edgar R. Harlan, Currator, Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 15, No. 2, October 1925, p. 98

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Benjamin F. Pearson, Sunday, December 28, 1862

A light frost in the morning & our Co was in it all night guns in hand & no blankets with us & no rebels came to let us try our guns or grit and it was luckey for them. I am now sleepy, have slept none since thursday night it is at least 65 hours since I slept & I believe I could go 24 more. I took dinner with G N Udell of Centerville, Appanoose Co Iowa at his Boarding house in the citty of Memphis with the family of the Seargent of the 17 Reg Iowa Vol afternoon we rambled through the citty viewed A Jackson's monument in Center of Court Square & seen the work of traytor hands the defacing of his words that ware cut in his monument (The Federal union must be preserved)

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

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop, Wednesday, July 23, 1864

Weather severely hot as it has been learned that a break by the prisoners is planned, and warns them for three weeks. A supply of sumach buds must have arrived and are given out freely to be steeped and drank for scurvy. A sergeant belonging to a work squad outside was shot by a guard, wounding him in the arm and hip and wounding another man, He took hold of the guard's gun. Some on parole get too intimate with Rebels; value principles less than extra rations. That such men have to be shot to remind them that they are dealing with traitors does not so much matter. While washing my shirt at the creek this afternoon the centry [sic] fired, the shot whizzing by my head as I stooped, striking in the bank and spattering mud in the faces of four of us. Lots of shooting has been done by guards for over a week and several men have been killed and wounded. Limbs are amputated at the hospital for slight injuries, The arm of one of our men hit by a sentry a few days ago was promptly sawed off. Another tunnel found; dogs are seeking a trail. New forts are plainly to be seen. Negroes work all night. Reported fighting at Atlanta and that some of our forces are expected at Macon.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, pp. 92-3

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Wednesday, January 14, 1863

Very blustery. Debate on anticipation and possession.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 11

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Thursday, January 15, 1863

21 below zero and windy.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 11

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Friday, January 16, 1863

20 below zero. I wrote to sister Letitia.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 11

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Thursday, January 29, 1863

Feel some better and did my office business. Made out a new roster for February. Very blustery, snowy, a howling, blustering storm.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 11

Diary of Major Joseph Stockton, May 13, 1863

72d Ill. detailed as rear guard. A large train of supplies and ammunition going out to the armies in advance. Roads terribly dusty and weather exceedingly hot. Met hundreds of "contrabands" going into Grand Gulf. No one can imagine the picturesque and comic appearance of the negroes, all ages, shapes and sizes. All seemed happy at the idea of being free, but what is to become of them the men can be made soldiers, but women and children must suffer. Encamped in a beautiful grove; not having tents, we bivouacked in the open air.

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

Diary of Major Joseph Stockton, May 15, 1863

Weather warm and roads dusty. Marched over the battlefield of Port Gibson, where McPherson cleaned the rebels out most effectually. Twenty-two miles today.

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

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 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 Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, October 3, 1861

To-night, half an hour ago, received a dispatch from the top of Cheat, which reads as follows:

All back. Made a very interesting reconnoissance. Killed a large number of the enemy. Very small loss on our side.

 

J. J. REYNOLDS,                 

Brigadier-General.

Why, when the battle was progressing so advantageously for our side, did they not go on? This, then, is the result of the grand demonstration on the other side of the mountain.

McDougal's company returned, and report the enemy fallen back.

The frost has touched the foliage, and the mountain peaks look like mammoth bouquets; green, red, yellow, and every modification of these colors appear mingled in every possible fanciful and tasteful way.

Another dispatch has just come from the top of Cheat, written, I doubt not, after the Indianians had returned to camp and drawn their whisky ration. It sounds bigger than the first. I copy it:

Found the rebels drawn up in line of battle one mile outside of their fortifications, drove them back to their intrenchments, and continued the fight four hours. Ten of our men wounded and ten killed. Two or three hundred of the enemy killed.

If it be true that so many of the rebels were killed, it is probable, that two thousand at least were wounded; and when three hundred are killed and two thousand wounded, out of an army of twelve or fifteen hundred men, the business is done up very thoroughly. The dispatch which went to Richmond to-night, I have no doubt, stated that "the Federals attacked in great force, outnumbering us two or three to one, and after a terrific engagement, lasting five hours, they were repulsed at all points with great slaughter. Our loss one killed and five wounded. Federal loss, five hundred killed and twenty-five hundred wounded." Thus are victories won and histories made. Verily the pen is mightier than the sword.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, pp. 72-4

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, October 6, 1861

The Third and Sixth Ohio, with Loomis' battery, left camp at half-past three in the afternoon, and took the Huntersville turnpike for Big Springs, where Lee's army has been encamped for some months. At nine o'clock we reached Logan's Mill, where the column halted for the night. It had rained heavily for some hours, and was still raining. The boys went into camp thoroughly wet, and very hungry and tired; but they soon had a hundred fires kindled, and, gathering around these, prepared and ate supper.

I never looked upon a wilder or more interesting scene. The valley is blazing with camp-fires; the men flit around them like shadows. Now some indomitable spirit, determined that neither rain nor weather shall get him down, strikes up:

Oh! say, can you see by the dawn's early light,

What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,

Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,

O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?

A hundred voices join in, and the very mountains, which loom up in the fire-light like great walls, whose tops are lost in the darkness, resound with a rude melody befiting so wild a night and so wild a scene. But the songs are not all patriotic. Love and fun make contribution also, and a voice, which may be that of the invincible Irishman, Corporal Casey, sings:

’T was a windy night, about two o'clock in the morning,

 An Irish lad, so tight, all the wind and weather scorning,

 At Judy Callaghan's door, sitting upon the paling,

 His love tale he did pour, and this is part of his wailing:

 Only say you'll be mistress Brallaghan;

 Don't say nay, charming Judy Callaghan.

A score of voices pick up the chorus, and the hills and mountains seem to join in the Corporal's appeal to the charming Judy:

Only say you'll be mistress Brallaghan;

Don't say nay, charming Judy Callaghan.

Lieutenant Root is in command of Loomis' battery. Just before reaching Logan's one of his provision wagons tumbled down a precipice, severely injuring three men and breaking the wagon in pieces.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, pp. 75-7

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, October 7, 1861

Left Logan's mill before the sun was up. The rain continues, and the mud is deep. At eleven o'clock we reached what is known as Marshall's store, near which, until recently, the enemy had a pretty large camp. Halted at the place half an hour, and then moved four miles further on, where we found the roads impassable for our artillery and transportation.

Learning that the enemy had abandoned Big Springs and fallen back to Huntersville, the soldiers were permitted to break ranks, while Colonel Marrow and Major Keifer, with a company of cavalry, rode forward to the Springs. Colonel Nick Anderson, Adjutant Mitchell and I followed. We found on the road evidence of the recent presence of a very large force. Quite a number of wagons had been left behind. Many tents had been ripped, cut to pieces, or burned, so as to render them worthless. A large number of beef hides were strung along the road. One wagon, loaded with muskets, had been destroyed. All of which showed, simply, that before the rebels abandoned the place the roads had become so bad that they could not carry off their baggage.

The object of the expedition being now accomplished, we started back at three o'clock in the afternoon, and encamped for the night at Marshall's store.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 77

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, October 9, 1861

The day has been clear. The mountains, decorated by the artistic fingers of Jack Frost, loom up in the sunshine like magnificent, highly-colored, and beautiful pictures.

The night is grand. The moon, a crescent, now rests for a moment on the highest peak of the Cheat, and by its light suggests, rather than reveals, the outline of hill, valley, cove and mountain.

The boys are wide awake and merry. The fair weather has put new spirit in them all, and possibly the presence of the paymaster has contributed somewhat to the good feeling which prevails.

Hark! This from the company quarters:

Her golden hair in ringlets fair;

Her eyes like diamonds shining;

Her slender waist, her carriage chaste,

Left me, poor soul, a pining.

But let the night be e'er so dark,

Or e'er so wet and rainy,

I will return safe back again

To the girl I left behind me.

From another quarter, in the rich brogue of the Celt, we have:

Did you hear of the widow Malone,

Ohone!

Who lived in the town of Athlone,

Alone?

Oh! she melted the hearts

Of the swains in those parts;

So lovely the widow Malone,

Ohone!

So lovely the widow Malone.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, pp. 78-9