Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: October 24, 1863

Since writing in my diary, our plans have been entirely changed. Our old friend, Mrs. R., offered us rooms in Richmond, on such terms as are within our means, and a remarkable circumstance connected with it is, that they are in the house which my father once occupied, and the pleasant chamber which I now occupy I left this month twenty-nine years ago. It is much more convenient to live in Richmond than in Ashland, so that we have rented the little cottage to another. One room answers the purpose of dining-room and sleeping-room, by putting a large screen around the bed; the girls have a room, and we use the parlour of the family for entertaining our guests. For this we pay $60 per month and half of the gas bill.

But this has been a sad, sad month to me, and I find it very difficult to bring my mind to attend to the ordinary affairs of life. On the 11th of this month, our nephew, Captain William B. Newton, was killed while leading a cavalry charge in Culpeper County. We have the consolation of believing that his redeemed spirit has passed into heaven; but to how many has the earth been left desolate! His young wife and three lovely children; his father, mother, sisters, brothers, uncles and aunts, have seen the pride of their hearts pass away. His country mourns him as a great public loss. The bar, the legislative hall, and the camp proudly acknowledge his brilliant talents. In peace, the country looked to him as one to whom her best interests would hereafter be intrusted; in war, as one of the most gallant officers on the field. An early and ardent Secessionist, he was among the first to turn from the delightful home circle, where he ever sought his happiness, to go to the defence of right. He came into the field as First Lieutenant of the Hanover Troop; shortly after became its Captain, loved and revered by his men; and the commission of Lieutenant-Colonel of his regiment, the Fourth Virginia Cavalry, was on its way to him; but, alas! alas! it reached its destination a few hours too late. God be with my precious and her sweet children! I long and yet dread to go to that once bright home, the light of which has faded forever.

I was shocked to hear that on the fatal Sunday on which my darling William fell, three of our E. H. S. boys had come to a glorious, though untimely end, on the same field — Surgeon John Nelson, Lientenant Lomax Tayloe, and Private J. Vivian Towles; and at Bristow Station, a few days afterwards, dear little Willie Robinson, son of my old friends, Mr. Conway and Mrs. Mary Susan Robinson. He was but eighteen. I attended his funeral on Wednesday last, and there learned that he was a devoted Christian. These dear boys! Oh, I trust that they sprang from the din of the battle-field to the peace of heaven! Lord, how long must we suffer such things?

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 240-2

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Tuesday, September 9, 1862

Clinton. Back again! For how long, I know not. At sunset Saturday, Eliza and Miriam returned to Mrs. McCay's with Nannie Davidson. Mother had proved obdurate and refused to leave Clinton; so they had all gone on, and spent the day with Mrs. Haynes instead of going to Mrs. George's. After my quiet, solitary day, I was glad to see them again, particularly as they brought confirmation of the great victory in Virginia. It is said the enemy were cut off from Washington, and that we were pursuing them. O my brothers! If God will only spare them! I envy Lydia who is so near them, and knows all, and can take care of them if they are hurt. It will be several days at least, before we can hear from them, if we hear at all; for Jimmy has never yet written a line, and George has written but once since the taking of the forts, and that was before the battle of Chickahominy. We can only wait patiently. Perhaps General Carter will bring us news.

Mrs. Haynes sent a very pressing invitation for us to spend the next day with her, so, although it was Sunday, we went. I am becoming dreadfully irreligious. I have not been to church since Mr. Gierlow went to Europe last July. It is perfectly shocking; but the Yankees have kept me running until all pious dispositions have been shaken out of me; so they are to blame. Like heathens, we called on Miss Comstock as we passed through town, and spent an hour with her. Landed at Mr. Haynes's, we had ample time to look around before he and his wife got back from church. Here again I found what seems to be the prevailing style of the country, widespread doors and windows, with neither blinds nor shade trees to keep off the glare of the sun. The dining-room was a wide hall, where the rising sun shone in your face at breakfast, and at dinner, being directly overhead, seemed to shine in at both ends at once. A splendid arrangement for a Fire Worshiper; but I happened to be born in America, instead of Persia, so fail to appreciate it.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 217-9

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Friday, January 6, 1865

We left our camp this morning at 8 o'clock and marched down to the coast about four miles below Savannah. At 2 o'clock we embarked on the transports for Beaufort, South Carolina. Our regiment is on board a ship built in England as a blockade-runner for the Southern Confederacy, but which was finally captured by our navy at Savannah. It rained all forenoon, but by noon it had cleared off with a high wind blowing in from the ocean. Our ship, not having enough ballast, rocked frightfully in the gale, upsetting tables in the dining room and frightening many of the boys lest we should be turned over. The sailors only smiled at our discomfiture. The rough sea made a great many of the boys sick, but our company being on the hurricane deck, did not become so sick. We reached Beaufort at 11 p. m., but cannot land, and so have to remain on the boats all night.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 244-5

Captain Charles Fessenden Morse, December 15, 1862

Bivouac Near Fairfax Station,

December 15, 1862.

I will take the opportunity of a few hours' respite from marching, to let you know of my present whereabouts and good condition. We have arrived at this place after about five days' marching, making seventy miles from Sharpshurgh. We have been called up at half-past three every morning, and have not stopped until after dark any night, though our marching has been very much interrupted by bad roads, delays about the wagon trains, etc.

I met with the greatest misfortune, on my third day's march, that I have had during the war. Hogan started out about a mile ahead of the column, as was his usual custom, to forage for us; he had just got through a small town called Hillsborough, when a party of guerillas made a dash out from the side of the road, and before he had time to put spurs to my horse, they had ridden him down and seized him. They had hardly done this when our advance came in sight, and our cavalry saw them and gave chase. I saw the scamps as they rode off for their lives, but I had no idea, until nearly two hours afterwards, that my poor mare was among them. It was an awful blow when I did hear it; they told me that Hogan was between two of them; one held a pistol to his ear while they whipped the horse. The pursuit was vain, and I lost everything, Hogan, horse, saddle, bridle, overcoat, dressing-case, tobacco, rations and all. You can hardly imagine how badly I felt: to lose all my comforts and conveniences, and my poor horse also, was a great deal; but to have Hogan taken by a parcel of ruffians who haven't anything good about them, was worst of all.

Harry Russell and Bob Shaw have been very kind to me since this happened, lending me their servants and doing everything they could. Of course, our “mess” is now broken up, but we three stick together and sleep under the same blankets. We've had very good weather for marching and sleeping out since we started, being quite warm. We heard, yesterday, that Burnside had met with some success, but had been pretty badly cut up, and that fresh troops were being pressed forward in large numbers to the front. Our regiment is rear guard to-day; it will be very late before we start, and after midnight when we get into bivouac.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 111-3

Major Wilder Dwight: Sunday Evening, November 10, 1861

camp Near Seneca, November 10, 1861,

Sunday Evening.

I have had a quiet Sunday. Colonel Gordon's sudden resolution to snatch a visit home has left me alone with the regiment. On the whole, I don't mind the care, though my shoulders are young to it. A little knapsack-drill keeps a soldier in marching order, you know, and so of an officer. There are a good many things to call for care and thought just now in the regiment. The care of our sick; the selection of a good camping-ground in place of our present over-damp site; the problem of keeping warm when air and ground seem heavy with chilliness; the maintenance of drills and discipline when so many of our officers are absent or sick, — not more than half being now present for duty, — these are a few of the considerations that vibrate the pendulum of my thoughts. I have just been out to tattoo, and so, as my “little family” is put quietly to bed, I am free to write, read, or sleep, as I choose. Another rainy day yesterday, and the pleasant sun of to-day looked as if he were breeding clouds for to-morrow. So is November on the Potomac. If the news is half true from the fleet, why may not a turn of fortune embark us for some Southern shore, and give us a short cut to the tropics?

Tell father that he happened to send me just the book I wanted, — Halleck's. I fancy it is a clear statement of some things it would be well for a major to bear in mind. Our day has been regular and quiet. Of course, my only purpose is to keep the machine in the same running order as it now is. . . . .

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 140-1

Major Wilder Dwight: Monday Morning, November 11, 1861

It is the next morning since I began this letter. I have been having a long talk with General Banks at his headquarters. The General does not seem to know exactly when we move from here, but it is clear that our division will not remain hero for the winter. It is astonishing how this army life philosophizes a man. I think a few years of it would make one “impervious to the storms of outrageous fortune.” Colonel Andrews is in a very pleasant house, and is rapidly getting well. You would be amused to see me drill my battalion. It only shows we never can tell what we can do. When I voted for Abraham Lincoln a year ago, I did not suppose I was electing myself into a damp wheat-field with a regiment on my hands; but that is, apparently, what I voted for. I only wish all the wheat-fields in the neighborhood bore the same harvest.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 141

Governor John A. Andrew’s Special Order No. 21

Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Headquarters, BosToN, Apr. 17, 1861

SPECIAL ORDER No 21

HIS Excellency, the Commander-in-Chief, orders that Brigadier General Benjamin F. Butler of the Third Brigade Second Division M.V.M. assume the command of the Third, Fourth, Sixth and Eighth regiments, which have been ordered into service, and are now at Quarters in the City of Boston, and also of such other regiments and companies as may be attached thereto. The corps composing said regiments shall be known and designated as the Third Brigade, Second Division until otherwise ordered by the Commander-in-Chief. This Order is to be promulgated forthwith to the regiments designated herein, — waiving the usual forms.

By Order of his Excellency,

JoHN A. ANDREw

SOURCE: Jessie Ames Marshall, Editor, Private and Official Correspondence of Gen. Benjamin F. Butler During the Period of the Civil War, Volume 1: April 1860 – June 1862, p. 15-6

Major-General John A. Dix to Secretary William H. Seward, November 16, 1861

Unofficial.

November 16, 1861

Dr. Coxe, one of the most distinguished of the Episcopal clergy in this city, is a strong Union man. His congregation are the reverse. President Lincoln's Fast-day was scarcely observed. There were from one to two hundred persons in church. Yesterday (Jefferson Davis's Fast-day) it was crowded to overflowing. The attendance is but one manifestation among many of the bitter feeling of the Secessionists here. These people must be held by a hand as inflexible as iron. They are not to be conciliated. I speak of the principal portion of the wealthy classes. They are still as absurd in their confidence in the success of the Confederate cause as they are disloyal to their own government. The least advantage gained over us elates them ridiculously. I am satisfied that no act of clemency on the part of the Government will make any impression on them; and certainly, while they are making daily demonstrations of hostility, they deserve none.

I feel it my duty to say to you that, notwithstanding the overwhelming vote this State has just given, its quietude depends on prudent management and on the ability of the Government to keep the Confederate forces at a distance. The Union men are, for the most part, the quiet, industrious portions of the people. The Secessionists, on the other hand, are composed of the more active portions, sustained by a large majority of the wealthy and aristocratic citizens of Baltimore (most of whom are connected with the South by marriage and pecuniary interests) and the broken-down politicians, merchants, and spendthrifts, who hope to repair their fortunes by a change of government. The leaders are bold, fierce, and implacable; and if our forces were to be withdrawn from the fortification on Federal Hill, pointing its guns from the heart of the city into every ward and almost every street, and a successful demonstration should be made by the Confederate army on the Potomac, the State and the city would be thrown into commotion by the intrigues of these men. With the strong hand of the Government upon them they cannot conceal their enmity to it. On ’Change to-day, when the news of the capture of Messrs. Slidell and Mason on board a British mail-steamer was announced, they were jubilant with the hope that it would lead to a rupture with Great Britain, and that she would be thrown into the scale of the Confederates. While such a feeling exists, notwithstanding our recent successes, our hold on them cannot be safely relaxed.

I do not make this letter an official one. But I desire that the President and his Cabinet and Major-general McClellan should know what view I take of the existing status of Secessionism in this city.*

_______________

* See Appendix VI.

SOURCE: Morgan Dix, Memoirs of John Adams Dix, Volume 2, p. 34-5

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Saturday, March 8, 1862

Ground frozen; sun came out bright and warm, speedily thawing all snow. Company C and four wagons carry all the “plunder” of the company and the adjutant's office to Raleigh.

P. M. A glorious ride to the scenery of New River at and about Long Point; a rapid ride back; Doctors McCurdy, Twenty-third, and Potter, Thirtieth, Lieutenant-Colonel Jones, and Adjutant-General Hunter for companions. How the blood leaps and thrills through the veins as we race over the hills! Physical enjoyments of this sort are worth a war. How the manly, generous, brave side of our people is growing! With all its evils war has its glorious compensations.

News by telegraph this evening very meagre. A fine, affectionate letter from my dear wife, written last Sunday. She is so distressed at my absence but would not have me do otherwise.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 204

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Thursday, January 5, 1865

The order for the Iowa Brigade to move was countermanded this morning, and we remained in camp all day. The weather has been pleasant and is quite warm today.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 244

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 26, 1862

The apothecaries arrested and imprisoned some days ago have been tried and acquitted by a court-martial. Gen. Winder indorsed on the order for their discharge: “Not approved, and you may congratulate yourselves upon escaping a merited punishment.”

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 116

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 27, 1862

It is said Mr. Benjamin has been dismissed, or resigned.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 117

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 28, 1862

Mr. Benjamin has been promoted. He is now Secretary of State. .

His successor in the War Department is G. W. Randolph, a lawyer of modest pretensions, who, although he has lived for several years in this city, does not seem to have a dozen acquaintances. But he inherits a name, being descended from Thomas Jefferson, and, I believe, likewise from the Mr. Randolph in Washington's cabinet. Mr. Randolph was a captain at Bethel under Magruder; and subsequently promoted to a colonelcy. Announcing his determination to quit the military service more than a month ago, he entered the field as a competitor for the seat in Congress left vacant by the death of President Tyler. Hon. James Lyons was elected, and Col. Randolph got no votes at all.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 117

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 30, 1862

Gen. Lee is to have command of all the armies — but will not be in the field himself. He will reside here. Congress passed an act to create a commanding general; but this was vetoed, for trenching on the executive prerogative — or failed in some way. The proceedings were in secret session.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 117

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 31, 1862

Gen. Joseph E. Johnston is to command on the Peninsula. The President took an affectionate leave of him the other day; and Gen. Lee held his hand a long time, and admonished him to take care of his life. There was no necessity for him to endanger it — as had just been done by the brave Sydney Johnston at Shiloh, whose fall is now universally lamented. This Gen. Johnston (Joseph E.) I believe has the misfortune to be wounded in most of his battles.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 117

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: February 19, 1865

The Fants say all the trouble at the hotel came from our servants' bragging. They represented us as millionaires, and the Middleton men servants smoked cigars. Mrs. Reed's averred that he had never done anything in his life but stand behind his master at table with a silver waiter in his hand. We were charged accordingly, but perhaps the landlady did not get the best of us after all, for we paid her in Confederate money. Now that they won't take Confederate money in the shops here how are we to live? Miss Middleton says quartermasters' families are all clad in good gray cloth, but the soldiers go naked. Well, we are like the families of whom the novels always say they are poor but honest. Poor? Well-nigh beggars are we, for I do not know where my next meal is to come from.

Called on Mrs. Ben Rutledge to-day. She is lovely, exquisitely refined. Her mother, Mrs. Middleton, came in. “You are not looking well, dear? Anything the matter?” “No — but, mamma, I have not eaten a mouthful to-day. The children can eat mush; I can't. I drank my tea, however.” She does not understand taking favors, and, blushing violently, refused to let me have Ellen make her some biscuit. I went home and sent her some biscuit all the same.

SOURCES: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 349

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: October 4, 1863

Cedar Hill. —We came to Ashland on the 29th, to attend the sale of the house in which we lived last year. We got a few pieces of furniture, and determined to rent the little cottage. We spent that night at Mrs. T's, and came here next morning, and are now collecting hops, brooms, and the various et cœteras necessary for housekeeping. A refugee friend, who will change her location, has lent us her furniture, so that we expect to be very snug. Of course we shall have no curtains nor carpets, which are privations in our old age, but the deficiencies must be made up by large wood fires and bright faces. The war has taught useful lessons, and we can make ourselves comfortable and happy on much less than we ever dreamed of before.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 240

Francis H. Wigfall to Louis T. Wigfall, September 14, 1864

Camp near Lovejoy's Station,

Sept. 14, 1864.

When my last was written Sherman had not developed his intentions, and we were all in the dark as to what he would do next. After drawing back his line from our right and centre, he pushed these troops round in rear of his original right and crossing the West Point and Atlanta R. R. struck for the Macon road. On the night of the 30th Aug., Hardee's Corps started from the neighborhood of East Point, six miles below Atlanta, for Jonesboro', sixteen miles further in the direction of Macon — opposite which was McPherson's Army. You know Sherman's Army is composed of McPherson's old Army, commanded since his death by Howard; Thomas's Army and Schofield's Army. Lee's Corps followed Hardee and next day they attacked this fraction of the Yankee force, but failed to make any impression. There was therefore nothing left but to evacuate the place, which was done that next night. Lee's Corps was drawn away from Hardee after the fight and covered the flank of the troops marching from Atlanta to effect a junction with Hardee. . . . Gen. Hood is making every exertion to get ready for the fall campaign and preserves his equanimity perfectly.

A few days after the army was reunited, Sherman retired his forces to the neighborhood of Atlanta and the campaign came to an end. He is doubtless preparing for another advance before the stoppage of operations by bad weather. He stripped the citizens of the country that he has abandoned to us, and yesterday there was application made at Jonesboro' for rations for one thousand destitute people in that vicinity. He has signalized his retirement to Atlanta by an order exiling every white man, woman and child from the place, regardless of political opinion. The reason given is that it is to the interest of the United States.

I feel confident that the first of December will see Sherman North of the Etowah River. His line of communication is too long, his means of transportation consisting as it does of a railroad. You must be sure and come up to the Army as you pass on your way to Richmond. I have a great deal to say that I do not like to entrust to a letter.

Genl. Patton Anderson was severely wounded on the 31st, as was Genl. Cumming, of Georgia, and Gen. Finly, of Florida. I suppose you will have heard of Governor Lubbock's appointment as Aide to the President. He was in Atlanta just before the evacuation, accompanied by Tom Ochiltree. Genl. G. W. Smith's Georgia Militia have been furloughed for thirty days to give them an opportunity to gather their crops (!)

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 188-90

Diary of Sarah Morgan: September 6, 1862

Beech Grove,

September 6th, Saturday.

Another perch for Noah's duck! Where will I be in a week or two from this? I shall make a mark, twenty pages from here, and see where I shall be when I reach it. Here, most probably; but oh, if I could then be at home! General Carter, who spent the evening with us day before yesterday, remarked that the first thing he heard as he reached town was that all the gentlemen and ladies of Clinton were hunting for country lodgings for us. It was pretty much the case. The General was as kind as ever, bless his gray head! and made us promise to go back to Linwood with him when he passes back next week. This is the way we keep the promise — coming out here.

Early yesterday morning we received a note from Eliza Haynes, one of our indefatigable agents, saying her grandmother, Mrs. McCay, had consented to receive us, and would come for us in the evening. Immediately my packing task was begun. But imagine my disappointment, just as I had finished one trunk, to hear mother announce her determination to let us go alone, while she remained with Lilly! Prayers, entreaties, tears, arguments, all failed; and we were forced to submit. So with a heart fuller than I can express, I repacked the trunk with Miriam's and my clothing, and got ready to depart. In the evening the carriage drove up to the door with Eliza and her grandmother, and with a hasty and rather choky good-bye to Lilly and mother, we were hurried in, and in another moment were off.

I fancied the house would be north of Clinton, so of course the horses took the road south. Then I decided on a white cottage to the left of the road, and about two miles out, found that it was to the right, not painted, and no cottage at all, but a nondescript building, besides. “’T was ever thus from childhood's hour!” When did I ever fancy anything exactly as it was? But the appearance does not affect the house, which is really very comfortable, though apparently unfinished. The same objection might be made to it that I made to Mrs. Moore's, for there is not a shutter on the place. But fine shade trees take their place, and here I do not feel the want of them so much, as our room is in the back of the house, to the west, where the rising sun cannot salute my nose as it did at Mrs. Moore's. As to what effect the setting sun has, I must wait for the evening to decide, though I always enjoy that At Greenwell, we used to walk a mile away from home to see the sun set in an open field.

I find Mrs. McCay an excellent, plain old lady, with neither airs nor pretentions, and very kindhearted. Here she lives alone, with the exception of an orphan girl called Jane, whose position, half-menial, half-equal, it would be hard to define. Poor girl! the name of orphan alone was enough to make me sorry for her. She must be Friday's child”! she is so “ready and willing.” Eliza, who it seems stays a great deal with her grandmother, is one of the brightest little girls I have seen for a long while. She sings and plays on the piano with a style and assurance that I can only mutely covet. Why can not I have the confidence I see all others possess? She took me to the gin-house last evening, though I could not see much, as it was almost sunset when we arrived. An early tea, and singing, and music after, completed our evening, and then we were shown to our room.

Mrs. McCay has only room for us two, so it is fortunate that mother would not come. She says she wants us to spend a few days with her, to see if we like it, or if we will be willing to be separated from mother. In the mean time, we can look around for lodgings in a larger and more comfortable place where we can be together. She tells such stories about the house Lilly lives in, of its age, and unhealthiness, that I am frightened about mother. She says she will die if she stays there this month. Miriam and Eliza have gone to town to see them, and are then going to Mrs. George's to see if she can accommodate us.

I wanted to have a splendid dream last night, but failed. It was pleasant, though, to dream of welcoming George and Gibbes back. Jimmy I could not see; and George was in deep mourning. I dreamed of fainting when I saw him (a novel sensation, since I never experienced it awake), but I speedily came to, and insisted on his “pulling Henry Walsh's red hair for his insolence,” which he promised to do instantly. How absurd! Dreams! dreams! That pathetic “Miss Sarah, do you ever dream?” comes vividly back to me sometimes. Dream? Don't I! not the dreams that he meant; but royal, purple dreams, that De Quincey could not purchase with his opium; dreams that I would not forego for all the inducements that could be offered. I go to sleep, and pay a visit to heaven or fairyland. I have white wings, and with another, float in rosy clouds, and look down on the moving world; or I have the power to raise myself in the air without wings, and silently float wherever I will, loving all things and feeling that God loves me. I have heard Paul preach to the people, while I stood on a fearful rock above. I have been to strange lands and great cities; I have talked with people I have never beheld. Charlotte Bronte has spent a week with me — in my dreams — and together we have talked of her sad life. Shakespeare and I have discussed his works, seated tête-à- tête over a small table. He pointed out the character of each of his heroines, explaining what I could not understand when awake; and closed the lecture with “You have the tenderest heart I have ever read, or sung of” — which compliment, considering it as original with him, rather than myself, waked me up with surprise.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 213-7

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Monday, January 2, 1865

The weather is quite cool. I was detailed this morning to work on the fortifications. We are building the platforms, upon which will be mounted the large cannon, just outside of the forts and rifle pits. These are elevated from five to ten feet above the common level of the ground and then floored so that in wet weather the gunners will not have to be in the mud. A few nice residences have to be pulled down to make room for the works, but nothing like that we had to do at Vicksburg.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 243