Showing posts with label Yankees. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Yankees. Show all posts

Thursday, March 21, 2024

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Daniel L. Ambrose: between December 22 & 24, 1864

During the siege of Savannah Major Johnson was off on the flanks of the army with the mounted portion of the regiment, scouting, foraging, doing outpost duty, and gathering up stragglers from their commands. After the fall of the city General Corse sends a dispatch ordering him to join his regiment. On the evening of the twenty-second he halts on a plantation near the Ogeechee River, and after camping his men, accompanied by Lieutenant S. F. Flint, he wends his way to the planter's mansion. It is now dark and raining. The Major knocks at the door, and after an assurance of friendship, they are received into the household. Their sabres’ frightful clang grates harshly upon the ears of the inmates—an old man, woman and daughter and for a while they seem frightened, but the gentlemanly demeanor of the Major and Lieutenant soon wins their confidence, causing them to come to the conclusion that the Yankees were not the wild creatures they had been represented to be. The midnight hour approximating, they all retire, leaving the Major and Lieutenant the occupants of the parlor. In the morning, while all is quiet, they make their exit, leaving the following beautiful lines (written by the Lieutenant,) in the clock:

Where the Savannas of the South
    Spread out their golden breadths to sea,
The fearful tide of war has rolled
    Around this lonely household tree.

I know the hearts that linger here,
    Their broken hopes, their wounded pride,
Have felt what I may never feel,
    Are tried as I have not been tried.

This aged man, this fair browed girl,
    What wonder if they learn to blend
His memory with hate-the foe
    Who might in peace have been their friend.

One common tongue, one blood, one God,
    The God whose ways are dark, are ours;
And He can make war's blackened path,
    Rustle with harvests-bloom with flowers.

And here before he seeks his rest,
    The hated North-man bends his knee,
And prays, restore this household band-
    As dear to them as mine to me;
Oh! let the fearful storm sweep by,
    And spare this roof that sheltered me.

After our entrance into the city, we go into camp in the suburbs, where we remain during the night and the following day.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 288-90

Thursday, March 14, 2024

Diary of Private William S. White, June 8, 1861

MY FIRST FIGHT.

My gun, Fourth Detachment, Third Company, was ordered off to meet a party of the Yankees who had been committing daily depredations upon the inhabitants of Elizabeth City county. We were supported by thirty First North Carolina Infantrymen and twenty cavalrymen, making in all some sixty-five men. After marching five or six miles we came upon them, and immediately opened with our twelve-pounder howitzer, but the Yankees concluded not to fight and fled precipitately. We captured one prisoner, and he was wounded by an old Peninsula scout, whose name was Ben Phillips, commonly known amongst our soldiers as "Uncle Ben."

It is my impression that this was the first cannon shot fired at land forces in Virginia, and also that this was the first prisoner captured. His name was Mooney, and he belonged to the Second Regiment New York Zouaves.

Soon after we left another gun belonging to my company was sent out to reënforce us, and taking another road it came upon the Yankees before either party were aware of it. The Yankees, as before, made a hasty retreat, and our men captured another prisoner. Nobody hurt on our side.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 95-6

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Diary of Private Bartlett Yancey Malone, February 21, 1862

cool and cloudy And ther was a wright smart excitement in camp today It was repoted that the Yankees was a landing at Colchester

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 15

Tuesday, February 13, 2024

Diary of Private Louis Leon: May 6, 1864

Fighting commenced at daylight, and lasted all day. So did it last with their everlasting reinforcements. If General Lee only had half their men, and those men were rebels, we would go to Washington in two weeks. When he has fought such an army for four years it certainly shows we have the generals and the fighting-stock on our side, and they have the hirelings. Look at our army, and you will see them in rags and barefooted. But among the Yankees I see nothing but an abundance of everything. Still, they haven't whipped the rebels. Several of our boys came in as prisoners to-day, with them Engle of our company. They think I was killed, so does my brother, but as yet the bullet has not done its last work for your humble servant.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 61

Sunday, January 28, 2024

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, Monday, February 23, 1863—Evening

We have just had some sport. Five negroes hailed us, and on being asked if they wished to come aboard, answered "yes" with every demonstration of joy, as they supposed us to be Yankees. The shout that went up when they were safely aboard made the welkin ring. They never found out their mistake until Colonel Brend told the mate to take them below and pay them for their loyalty, which he knew how to do from long practice. They had been working on the fortifications at Vicksburg, and said they had "been trying to get with us for several months." One yellow rascal shouted for Lincoln as he stepped aboard. We are now in sight of Natchez, and have not found the Indianola yet.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 67

Friday, October 6, 2023

Our Indian Troops, published December 24, 1864

General Stand Watie, commanding our Indian troops in the trans-Mississippi Department, has fully clothed and armed all his men, and is in the vicinity of Fort Smith, attacking and destroying Yankee wagon trains.

SOURCES: Richmond Daily Dispatch, Richmond, Virginia, Saturday Morning, December 24, 1864, p. 3; John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 365-6

Saturday, September 30, 2023

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, January 4, 1863

At 4 o'clock yesterday we were moved from our old position to a bridge. We had stood out in the rain since the evening before, and were completely soaked with wet, and had to climb the steepest and slickest hills a man ever lives to stand upon. Half of the time we were down in the mud, and the balance in water up to our waist, while the darkness was so thick that we couldn't see our file-leaders; but I never heard a single murmur from the cold, wet and hungry men. Lieutenant-Colonel Tillman, who has command of the regiment, led the way on foot, and was as deep in the mud as we were in the mire; and, after we arrived at the bridge which we were sent to guard, the officers "stood and took it" as cheerfully as though they were basking in the sunshine of an April morning. One of the boys, who was up to his knees in mud, and over whose face the rain was streaming from a narrow brim cap, said to Major Miller, who was leaning against the side of a house and under the drip, "I say, Major, you look like a man trying to hide behind a ladder." The Major took the joke quite good humoredly, and did not appear more discomposed by the loud laugh which greeted the sally, than he was a few days before, when the Yankee sharp-shooters were making the minnie bullets sing around his ears. At 10 o'clock, the enemy having failed to come to time, we were allowed to drag our weary limbs out to our camps. There being only one tent to the company, we had to stand out in the wet all day and part of the night, when, to our great relief, the wind changed to the north, and the rain, which had been falling for forty-eight hours, ceased.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 17-8

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

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

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

Monday, August 21, 2023

Diary of Private Louis Leon: November 7, 1863

To-day, as several of us went to get some straw near Kelly's Ford, we heard firing, and the long roll beat. Looking up we saw the Yankees crossing the river. We double-quicked to camp and got there just in time to fall in with our regiment, to intercept the enemy, but they had already crossed the river before we got there. We manoeuvered about until dark, when my corps of sharpshooters was ordered out. We were within one hundred yards of the Yankees, and saw them around their fires very plainly. On the morning of the 8th we retreated in very good order. I certainly was glad of it, as we were in a very bad fix. We marched until sun-up and halted on Stone Mountain, passed through Stevensburg. Stayed here all night, and resumed our march and halted on the morning of the 9th. We then crossed the Rapidan at the Raccoon Ford, and are now camped at our old camp at Moulton Ford. We marched, since leaving Kelly's Ford, forty miles. The distance is only seventeen miles. We were certainly surprised for the first time since the war. We did not dream the enemy was on us before the firing commenced. Our brigade was cut off from the army twice, but our General Daniels got us through safe. Nothing new up to the 26th.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 51-2

Diary of Private Louis Leon: December 1, 1863

The other corps is out to-day. The Yankees, as well as ourselves, are well fortified, and we are confronting one another.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 54

Tuesday, July 4, 2023

Diary of Private Louis Leon: October 12, 1863

Started at daylight, marched twenty-five miles, waded the Hazel River at 10 this morning. Had to take off our shoes and pants, according to orders. It was very cold. We got within a quarter of a mile of Jefferson town, when the fight commenced. We drove the Yankees through town double quick. We halted one mile on the other side of the town, then formed in line of battle once more and went forward. We drove the enemy over the Rappahannock and through Warrington Springs; took 300 prisoners and halted at 9 in the night.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 49-50

Monday, June 5, 2023

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 30, 1864

Clear, and warm as summer. No fires.

It is reported that Gen. Hood is still marching North, and is near Nashville.

The following telegrams were received this morning:

"AUGUSTA, November 29th, 1864.—It is reported, via Savannah, the enemy, with infantry and artillery, entered Millen yesterday. Wheeler is rapidly pursuing Kilpatrick, who retreats in that direction from Waynesborough.—B. B."

 

"AUGUSTA, November 29th, 1864.—6½ P.M.—Gen. Jones telegraphs from Charleston: Ten (10) gun-boats with transports landing troops at Boykins on Broad River. Four gun-boats with transports and barges are, by this time, at Mackay's Point, junction of Pocotaligo with Broad River. I am sending all assistance from here, and think we must make the struggle near the coast. As this movement relieves Wilmington, might not some of the North Carolina reserves be sent to Gen. Jones?—B. BRAGG."

The following items were in the papers this morning:

“NEGRO PICKETS.—Monday morning negro pickets were placed in front of Gen. Pickett's division. Our men, taking it as an insult, yesterday fired upon them, causing a stampede among them. Their places have been supplied with white Yankees, and the lines have resumed the usual quiet.

 

"Two negroes, captured by Gen. Hunter in the Valley last summer, and forced into the Yankee army, deserted yesterday and came into Gen. Pickett's lines, and were brought over to this city."

 

"CAPTURE OF GEN. PRYOR.—The Express gives the following account of the capture of the Hon. Roger A. Pryor, on Monday morning:

 

"While riding along the lines on our right, he stopped at one of our vidette posts, and left his horse and private arms with one or two other articles in charge of the pickets, stated that he intended, as was often his custom, to go forward and exchange papers with the enemy's videttes.

 

He advanced in the direction of the Yankee lines, flourishing a paper in his hand, in token of his object, and after proceeding some distance was met by a Yankee officer. An exchange of papers was effected, and Gen. Pryor had turned to retrace his steps, when he was suddenly seized by two or three armed men, who were lying in ambush, and hurried away. The whole transaction, we understand, was witnessed by some of our men, but at too great a distance to render any assistance. Gen. Pryor had frequently exchanged papers with the enemy, and his name and character had, no doubt, been reported to them. They resolved to have him, by fair means or foul, and descended to the basest treachery to accomplish their purpose.

 

"We trust that some notice may be taken of the matter by our military authorities, and every effort used to secure his early return. During the last few months the general has been acting as an independent scout, in which capacity he has rendered valuable service."


SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 342-3

Sunday, June 4, 2023

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: April 8, 1864

Negroes by the hundreds are flocking to our camp; all sizes and ages, ranging from one year to one hundred years old. Poor deluded beings, how extravagant have been their conceptions relative to the Yankees. An order from headquarters at Baily Springs this evening informs us that Colonel Rowett has fought himself away from Camp Butler and returned to the command of the regiment. Remaining in camp at Jackson's until the fifteenth, we leave and report to regimental headquarters. Immediately Captain Ring receives orders to proceed with the detachment to Center Star, where we arrive in the evening and go into camp, after which patrols are sent out to Bainbridge and Lamb's Ferry. This detachment will long remember their camp and stay at the Jackson plantation; how Captain R, Sergeants N. and A. made journeys across the Blue Water, and how the Captain when coming in contact with one of the South's fair literary stars, discoursed so freely upon the American and English poets—especially upon the merits of the Bard of Avon.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 231-2

Saturday, June 3, 2023

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

May 27.

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

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

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

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

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

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, July 6, 1864

Near Chaffin's Bluff, Va.,        
July 6, 1864.

I have not written to you for several days because I knew a letter could not go South from here. In the recent raids by the Yankees they cut both the Weldon and Danville railroads. I do not know that the way is open yet, but I will write anyway.

We remained at Petersburg just two weeks and then came back here last Saturday night to relieve two brigades of Heath's Division which were here on picket duty. We had a very pleasant time while in Petersburg. I succeeded in getting plenty of vegetables to eat. The Yankees are shelling the city, but the shells do very little harm and have killed but few. The people are not at all frightened by them. I would often see young ladies sitting on their porches reading quietly while shells were occasionally bursting near by.

As soon as communication is established between Weldon and Petersburg I hope we can get our box from home. I suppose Edwin is still about Petersburg, improving the entrenchments. It now looks as if our army will have to lie in line of battle all summer to keep the Yankees back. Poor devils! How they do long for Richmond! Our minds are prepared to endure anything rather than submit to them, and the nearer they get to us the more determined we are not to yield. In the interior where there is no danger nearly everybody is whipped, and they should be ashamed of themselves.

I am of course anxious to see you, but it is impossible for me to get off now. In fact, nothing could tempt me at this time to abandon the army. However, I hope it will not be long before we can be together, and remain so.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 101-3

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, October 2, 1864

Near Petersburg, Va.,        
Sunday, October 2, 1864.

Last Thursday afternoon we received orders to be in readiness to move to the north side of the James River, and at about nine o'clock that night we started. We traveled until about two hours before day, and were nearly to Drury's Bluff when we were ordered back because the Yankees were making a demonstration on our right. That afternoon (Friday) our brigade and Lane's North Carolina had a considerable fight on the right. We drove them nearly two miles to their breastworks. It was a nice victory for us and our loss was small. The Fifteenth Regiment lost eight killed on the field and had about twenty wounded. I have never before known so large a proportion to be killed. Spencer Caldwell was killed. Colonel Bookter of the Twelfth Regiment and three officers of the Thirteenth were killed—none that you know. Billie was in it, but was not hurt. His company had one killed and but one wounded. Lang Ruff's boys were both in it, but were not hurt. I saw them all this morning and everybody was in fine spirits.

Our cavalry had a fight yesterday afternoon on the extreme right, and it is reported that General Dunnovant was killed. We are expecting the Yankees to attack us again. Grant is evidently doing his best for Lincoln's election. He must have been heavily reinforced. I hope to hear good news from Forrest. If Sherman is forced away from Atlanta and we can hold Richmond this winter, I believe we shall have peace.

We need ten or fifteen thousand more men here, and we could easily get them if the able-bodied exempts would come on here, but they seem to have become hardened to their disgrace. If the South is ever overcome, the contemptible shirkers will be responsible for it. They should have seen our poor fellows Thursday night coming in wounded and bleeding and shivering with cold; but these very men who suffer and have often suffered in this way are the last ones to say surrender.

I received your letter on Thursday, but have not been able to answer it until now. The weather is beautiful this afternoon, but it has been wet and was very disagreeable the day we had the fight.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 106-7

Friday, June 2, 2023

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, October 25, 1864

Near Petersburg, Va.,        
October 25, 1864.

I have a bright fire this morning. There is a nice chimney to my tent, which makes it almost as comfortable as a house. The regiment is on the extreme right of our lines, but is several miles from the field infirmary where I am stationed. The brigades are frequently shifted about, but I trust ours will remain where it is, because there is plenty of wood near by.

Everything is very quiet on the lines. I suppose you have heard of the defeat of General Early again in the Valley. He has not yet gained a single victory worth mentioning, and it is time we had a new commander there. We have a great many good fighters, but so few good generals. I am anxious to hear something from General Hood, for if he can whip Sherman at Atlanta the situation may be entirely changed.

The health of all the men appears to be about as good as if they were at home under shelter and with suitable diet. Our troops seem as happy and lively as men could be, although they get nothing to eat now but bread and meat. We have eaten nearly all the beef Hampton captured recently in rear of Grant's army, but we have received some from North Carolina which is very nice and tender.

Your brother Edwin is to be appointed a lieutenant in the Fourteenth Regiment. I took dinner with him yesterday. Lieutenant Petty, with whom he messes, had just received a box from home, and I fared sumptuously. My box has not yet arrived. Boxes now take about two weeks to reach here. Your brother had received his new suit from home. Billie is well and hearty, but he needs a new coat. These government coats are too thin for exposed duty.

I have a nice little Yankee axe, which is so light that it can be carried in a knapsack, but it just suits a soldier for use in putting up his little shelter tent or for making a fire. All the Yankees have these little axes, and many of our men have supplied themselves with them, as they have with almost everything else the Yankees possess.

Are you making preparations to come out here this winter? Colonel Hunt will have his wife to come out again, and a great many other officers are arranging for their wives to come on soon. Some of them are here already, but I think it best for you to wait until winter puts a stop to military operations. When we left the Rappahannock River last fall some of the officers carried their wives along by having them wrap up well and putting them in the ambulance; and if you were here and we had to move I could easily take you along that way. I want you to come just as soon as circumstances will permit, but this war has taught me to bear with patience those things which cannot be avoided and not to be upset when my wishes cannot be gratified.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 110-2

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, November 3, 1864

Near Petersburg, Va.,        
November 3, 1864.

We are still quiet. Nothing is going on except the continual fighting of the skirmishers, which amount to little more than a waste of powder and lead, although a man gets killed or wounded occasionally. The Yankees are keeping very quiet since the thrashing they received recently at this place and in front of Richmond. They will be apt to keep quiet now for some time-possibly for the remainder of the winter.

We are having rain. It fell all night and continues to-day. Billie's big coat came just in time for this cold spell of weather. He is as fat as a bear. The health of our troops is excellent and the spirit of the army is as fine as can be.

We shall know in a few days who is elected President of the United States. In my opinion Old Abraham will come in again, and I believe it would be best for us. McClellan might have the Union restored, if elected. I should prefer to remain at war for the rest of my life rather than to have any connection with the Yankees again.

You ask me to see Captain Pifer. I will do so if I happen to be near where he is again. He is now on the other (north) side of the James River with General Lee.

A man by the name of Simeon Werts is going home to-day on sick furlough for thirty days, and I shall send this letter to you by him. I shall also send my father some smoking tobacco, which we have been drawing monthly as part of our rations, and I shall send Dr. Clark some rolls of blistering ointment which we captured from the Yankees at Chancellorsville. I have more of it than I could use in two years. He has been very kind to you and I wish I had something more I could send him.

Our box of provisions from home still holds out, and if you will hurry up and come on, we may have some of it left when you arrive. I have just finished my breakfast, which consisted of hash, potatoes, biscuit, molasses and coffee. I do not mind the war as long as I can have plenty to eat and comfortable quarters. Your brother is very anxious for you to come out, and I believe you will enjoy it here this winter. It is most unfortunate that we have been able to see so little of each other during the four years of our married life.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 114-5

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, November 28, 1864

Near Petersburg, Va.,        
November 28, 1864.

The mails seem to be greatly deranged again, for I have not heard one word from you in two weeks. These clerks in the post-offices are the contemptible imps of cowardice who seek all the soft and safe places. They should be placed in the ranks and made to fight, and their places given to the young ladies who are refugees from within the enemy's lines and who would be glad to secure such employment.

Everything is quiet here now—only an occasional gun. Kershaw's Division has come back from the Valley and is now on the north side of the James River. The Yankees have not shelled Petersburg for several weeks, and it is beginning to have quite an air of business.

Grant agreed to cease shelling the city if General Lee would agree to keep all government property out of it. I do not believe Grant will make a serious attempt soon again to take Richmond or Petersburg.

A man is going home to-day on sick furlough, and I shall send this letter by him to be mailed to you from Columbia. I am glad you have decided positively to come on to Virginia. I will have everything ready for you when you arrive and will try to make you as comfortable as possible while you remain.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 116-7

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, May 2, 1865

 Newberry, S. C.        ,
May 2, 1865.

It was well you left Petersburg when you did, for the very next day (April 2) our extreme right was attacked, and, as our line was very thin, it was easily broken. Billie was digging a rifle pit when some Yankees charged it and captured all who were at work on it, and he is now a prisoner.

During the day a few prisoners were brought back, and among them was a smoke-begrimed captain with gray hair. I invited him into my tent and gave him something to eat. He had been in some of the hardest fighting of the war, and he said to me: "You see these white hairs. When I came into the army they were all coal black." As night came on many wounded were brought back to some huts lately occupied by soldiers, but now used by us as a hospital. Among them was Mose Cappocks, and I amputated his thumb. General Hill was killed.

The next day we began to leave, and there was continuous fighting. Our march soon developed into a disastrous retreat, and we were pushed to the extreme every hour of it for eight days. At Sailors Creek we were compelled to abandon our wagons, and they were burned. In one of them I had a new case of the finest surgical instruments. They had recently run the blockade and I hated to see them destroyed. General Kershaw and his young son were captured here. I saw some Yankee spies in gray uniforms marched along with us under guard. They had been captured in our lines, but the surrender occurring so soon afterwards saved them from being hung.

Our retreat was most trying, and when we reached Appomattox on the morning of the 9th General Gordon had a fight and captured a battery. Appomattox is in a basin with high hills on all sides. The Yankees seemed to have surrounded us, and their blue lines, with white flags here and there, came moving in slowly and silently. There was a report in the early morning that we had surrendered, and this made us think it might be true.

I heard some of our men yelling, and saw General Lee and his staff riding towards us, and as he stopped to dismount the men crowded around him to shake his hand and every man was shedding tears. Sad as was the sight, everyone felt relieved that it was all over.

The Yankees camped on the hills, and men from both armies went back and forth on apparently friendly terms. Their wagons, mules, harness and entire equipment was the very best and everything was in perfect condition throughout. All of their wagon covers were white and new. Ours made a sorry spectacle in comparison. I unhitched a little mule from an ambulance, and that afternoon Colonel Hunt, Lieutenant-Colonel Lester, Captain Copeland and I started together for South Carolina.

We had one little fly tent under which we slept at night. Bill Byers, who was mounted on a tall, gaunt horse, joined us before we reached the Catawba River. Copeland's horse gave out and he continued with us on foot. The river was swift and deep at Island Ford, and in crossing only the face and ears of my little mule remained above the surface. We found a farm house near by, where we stood before a blazing fire to dry. The people were very kind to us and gave us the best they had to eat, but our clothes were too dirty and vermin-infested for us to sleep in their houses, so we slept in the barns.

At one house where we stopped and asked for something to eat the man's wife was in a pitiful condition with cancer, but was without medicine to alleviate her suffering. I happened to have a bottle of morphine in my haversack, which I gave her and which was enough to last her for the short time she could live.

We were three weeks on the way, and when I reached my father's home nobody was expecting me. I was completely exhausted, but after getting on some clean, whole clothes and sleeping in a bed once more I felt greatly refreshed. Father has given me a good horse in exchange for my little mule, and I hope to be rested enough to leave here day after to-morrow and go through the county in a buggy for you.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 117-20