Diary of 4th Sergeant John S. Morgan: Friday, March 6, 1863

Had a good run all forenoon. Passed many plantations; took on board about 100 bales cotton found one pile in cane brake of 1.30.bles run after night

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 7, January 1923, p. 485

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Wednesday, May 27, 1863

Arrived at Montgomery, the capital of Alabama, at daylight, and left it by another railroad at 5.30 A.M.

All State capitals appear to resemble one another, and look like bits cut off from great cities. One or two streets have a good deal of pretension about them; and the inevitable “Capitol,” with its dome, forms the principal feature. A sentry stands at the door of each railway car, who examines the papers of every passenger with great strictness, and even after that inspection the same ceremony is performed by an officer of the provost-marshal's department, who accompanies every train.¹ The officers and soldiers on this duty are very civil and courteous, and after getting over their astonishment at finding that I am a British officer, they do all they can to make me comfortable. They ask all sorts of curious questions about the British army, and often express a strong wish to see one of our regiments fight. They can hardly believe that the Coldstream is really dressed in scarlet. To-day they entered gravely into a discussion amongst themselves, as to whether British troops would have taken the position at Fredericksburg. The arguments on both sides were very amusing, and opinion was pretty evenly divided. We met three trains crammed full of soldiers for Johnston's army. They belonged to Breckenridge's division of Bragg's army, and all seemed in the highest spirits, cheering and yelling like demons. In the cars to-day I fell in with the Federal doctor who was refused leave to pass through General Johnston's lines; he was now en route for Richmond. He was in full Yankee uniform, but was treated with civility by all the Confederate soldiers. I had a long talk with him; he seemed a sensible man, and did not attempt to deny the universal enthusiasm and determination of the Southerners. He told me that General Grant had been very nearly killed at the taking of Jackson. He thought the war would probably terminate by a blow-up in the North.² I had to change cars at West Point and at Atlanta! At the latter place I was crammed into a desperately crowded train for Chattanooga. This country, Georgia, is much more inhabited and cultivated than Alabama. I travelled again all night.

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¹ This rigid inspection is necessary to arrest spies, and prevent straggling and absence without leave.

² Notwithstanding the exasperation with which every Southerner speaks of a Yankee, and all the talk about black flag and no quarter, yet I never saw a Federal prisoner ill treated or insulted in any way, although I have travelled hundreds of miles in their company.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 134-6

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Monday, April 7, 1862

Rained violently all day. Visited all officers to see if they were provided with canteens, etc., etc All very nearly ready. Streams will rise and roads deepen so that no movement can now be made. A gloomy day to pass in camp, especially after getting ready to move. Set at liberty two citizens in guardhouse.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 224-5

Major Charles Fessenden Morse: May 20, 1864

Cassville, Ga., May 20, 1864.

I take this, my first opportunity since the fight of the 15th, to let you know that I am alive and well. I will tell you briefly what we have done since my last letter was written from near Ringgold.

May 7th, we marched about seven miles to Trickam P. O., taking up our position in line opposite Buzzard's Roost, which the enemy held in force. On the 8th and 9th we lay quietly in bivouac.

About seven A.M., on the 10th, we were moved off by a circuitous route to the southwest, passing through Snake Creek Gap in the afternoon, and camping at its outlet in the rear of McPhereon's force. During May 12th the whole army, with the exception of the Fourth Corps and Stoneman's cavalry, concentrated in our vicinity. On the 13th everything moved forward towards Resaca, going into position near the enemy, and endeavors were made to bring on a general engagement; nothing more than skirmishing resulted, however.

On the 14th, fighting began early and lasted throughout the day; late in the afternoon we moved to the extreme left, where Howard (who had come down from Dalton) had been heavily engaged and worsted. We double-quicked into line, and opened on the rebels as they were advancing with a yell to take a battery from which they had driven our men; our fire checked them, then drove them back, and we advanced with a cheer, regaining all the lost ground. By the time we had done this, it was eight o'clock and bright moonlight, so our line was halted and strengthened during the night by a strong line of works. Early next morning, our regiment was selected to make a reconnoisance in our front to discover the position of the enemy. This was a very delicate manoeuvre, but was capitally executed by Colonel Coggswell with the loss of only two men; the regiment behaved perfectly, not firing a shot, though under quite a disagreeable fire from skirmishers.

We developed the enemy's line and then returned, having done exactly what we were ordered to do. Soon after our return, our whole corps (now about twenty-two thousand strong), was massed for a tremendous attack on the enemy's right. At one P. M., we moved rapidly forward and became at once engaged; our regiment was in the front line, supported on the left by the Twenty-seventh Indiana and on the right by the Third Wisconsin. We advanced about a half mile and then were stopped by a line of breastworks. Our skirmishers crawled to within a hundred yards of them, and our line formed close in the rear. We were hardly settled in position when the enemy massed quite a body of troops in our immediate front and advanced to the attack, with the evident intention of turning our left, which had become somewhat exposed; our regiment and the Twenty-seventh Indiana marched forward and met them with a cheer half way, and poured a terrible fire into their ranks, following it up with the “Virginia” style of shooting. The enemy seemed perfectly astonished, and fired wild and high; in less than half an hour, we had fairly whipped, with our two regiments, a rebel brigade of five regiments, killing and capturing large numbers of them; our right and left did equally well. Night came on and the fighting ceased. The next morning, on advancing, we found no enemy. Since then, by a series of marches, we have reached this place. Yesterday, we came up with the enemy and had a very lively skirmish; they left during the night. To-day we have been resting. The news from Virginia is grand, but the details terrible. So far, our losses in the regiment have been about thirty killed and wounded, no officers hurt. This is written in haste and with very little idea when it can be mailed.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 164-6

Major Wilder Dwight: February 9, 1862

Cantonment Hicks, February 9, 1862, near Frederick.

If I could take the wings of this brisk, sunny morning, I would certainly fold them on our front-door steps in Brookline. Nor would I then proceed to hide my head under the wings, but, having flapped them cheerfully, I would thereupon crow!

But, as the wings and a furlough are both wanting, I must content myself with a web-footed, amphibious existence in the mud of Maryland.

There is a secession song which enjoys a surreptitious parlor popularity here. It is called, “Maryland, — my Maryland!” and rehearses, among other things, that “the despot's heel is on thy breast!” If that be so, all I have got to say is, that, just now, the heel has the worst of it. Yet there is a just satisfaction in this morning's inspection of men, tents, and kitchens, — to see how, by discipline, method, and fidelity, there is a successful contest maintained with all the elements. The neatness and order of our camp, in spite of mud, is a “volunteer miracle.”

You will be glad to know that the regiment is now in fine health. We already begin to count the days till spring. Of course, it is unsafe to predict the climate. I remember very well, however, that last February was quite dry, and that early in March dust, and not mud, was the enemy I found in Washington. It may well be, therefore, that there is a good time coming.

Indeed, has it not, in one sense, already come? Can you blind yourself to the omens and the tendencies? What shall we say of those statesmen of a budding empire, a new State, which is to give the law to the commerce and industry of the world through a single monopoly? What shall we say of the statesmen (Cobb, Toombs, etc.) who counsel their happy and chivalrous people to a general bonfire of house, home, and product? There's a new industry for a new State. King Cotton is a rare potentate. He proposes to be, himself, his own circulating medium, among other eccentricities.

Then, too, what admirable inferiority of fortification they succeed in erecting! Will our fleet of gunboats have as easy victories over all their river defences? and, if so, how far are we from Memphis? and where is Porter going with his “Mortar Fleet.” Among the ablest of our naval commanders, he is not bent on a fool's errand. When Jeff Davis sleeps o’ nights, does he dream of power?

But I've given you too many questions. In the midst of all this jubilant interrogatory, when will our time come? Just as soon as the mud dries, without a doubt.

Our life jogs on here without variety. For the most part, we spend our time in reading military books and talking military talk.

I am just now a good deal disturbed by the prospect of disbanding the bands. A greater mistake could not be made. The man with so little music in his soul as to vote for it is fit for — a Secessionist. Marshal Saxe, in introducing the cadenced step in the French infantry, says, “Music exerts a great and secret power over us. It disposes ‘nos organes aux exercises du corps, les soulagent dans ces exercises. On danse toute une nuit au son des instruments mais personne ne resterait à danser pendant un quart d’heure, seulement, sans musique.’” I have seen many a practical verification of this in the gathering freshness and quickness with which jaded men went on their march when the music called and cheered them.

Besides, we want the Star Spangled Banner, and its melody, as allies against the Rebel seductions.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 194-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 10, 1862

Mr. Brooks called this morning to get me to draft a passport bill, which he said he would get Congress to pass. I doubt it. I wrote the bill, however. He says fifteen or twenty members of Congress visit his house daily. They dine with him, and drink his old whisky. Mr. B. has a superb mansion on Clay Street, which he bought at a sacrifice. He made his money at trade. In one of the rooms Aaron Burr once dined with Chief Justice Marshall, and Marshall was assailed for it afterward by Mr. Jefferson. It was during Burr's trial, and Marshall was his judge. Mr. Wickham, who was Burr's counsel, then occupied the house, and gave a dinner party. Marshall did not know Burr was to be one of the guests. I got these facts from Mr. Foote, whom I met there the other evening.

A letter from Gen. Bragg to the President, indicates but too clearly that the people of Kentucky hesitate to risk the loss of property by joining us. Only one brigade has been recruited so far. The general says 50,000 more men are requisite. Can he have them? None!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 167-8

Diary of Dolly Lunt Burge: November 16, 1864

As I could not obtain in Covington what I went for in the way of dye stuffs, etc., I concluded this morning, in accordance with Mrs. Ward's wish, to go to the Circle. We took Old Dutch and had a pleasant ride as it was a delightful day, but how dreary looks the town! Where formerly all was bustle and business, now naked chimneys and bare walls, for the depot and surroundings were all burned by last summer's raiders. Engaged to sell some bacon and potatoes. Obtained my dye stuffs. Paid seven dollars [Confederate money] a pound for coffee, six dollars an ounce for indigo, twenty dollars for a quire of paper, five dollars for ten cents' worth of flax thread, six dollars for pins, and forty dollars for a bunch of factory thread.

On our way home we met Brother Evans accompanied by John Hinton, who inquired if we had heard that the Yankees were coming. He said that a large force was at Stockbridge, that the Home Guard was called out, and that it was reported that the Yankees were on their way to Savannah. We rode home chatting about it and finally settled it in our minds that it could not be so. Probably a foraging party.

Just before night I walked up to Joe Perry's to know if they had heard anything of the report. He was just starting off to join the company [the Home Guard], being one of them.

SOURCE: Dolly Lunt Burge, A Woman's Wartime Journal, p. 15-7

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Tuesday, March 29, 1864

An order came last night for us to move camp to-morrow. We hope it may be countermanded. The ladies started for Vermont this morning. Colonel A. B. Jewett went with them as far as Washington. A part of the regiment started for picket at 9 a. m.; has rained hard since 11 a. m.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 30-1

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: September 29, 1864

Early this morning our regiment ordered out in light marching order. After line was formed we marched out on the Winchester Pike. About a mile out we came to a halt at the roadside, waiting for some cause, under arms. After waiting a long time, late in the afternoon, a marching column could be seen coming down the pike. It proved to be a large number of prisoners under cavalry escort. We relieved the cavalrymen, taking charge of the prisoners. Marched them through the town to the railway station. Loaded them into box cars. Guarded them to Harper's Ferry where we arrived about midnight.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 129

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: Monday, July 14, 1862

Read in “Guy Mannering.” Rained very heavily most all day. Thunder. Got wet in tent. An alarm. Large detachment sent out. 1st and 2nd Battalions went, Archie and Thayer too. Major was angry that they went. Major, field officer of the day.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 21

Diary of 4th Sergeant John S. Morgan: Thursday, March 5, 1863

One of Pilots left us this morning. Mail come down on Wontna. Boat injured considerable today Run down Lake about 20 miles Weather cool and cloudy.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 7, January 1923, p. 484-5

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Tuesday, May 26, 1863

When I took Colonel Ewell's pass to the provost-marshal's office this morning to be countersigned, that official hesitated about stamping it, but luckily a man in his office came to my rescue, and volunteered to say that, although he didn't know me himself, he had heard me spoken of by others as “a very respectable gentleman.” I was only just in time to catch the twelve o'clock steamer for the Montgomery railroad. I overheard two negroes on board discussing affairs in general; they were deploring the war, and expressing their hatred of the Yankees for bringing “sufferment on us as well as our masters.” Both of them had evidently a great aversion to being “run off,” as they called it. One of them wore his master's sword, of which he was very proud, and he strutted about in a most amusing and consequential manner.

I got into the railroad cars at 2.30 P.M.; the pace was not at all bad, had we not stopped so often and for such a long time for wood and water. I sat opposite to a wounded soldier who told me he was an Englishman from Chelsea. He said he was returning to his regiment, although his wound in the neck often gave him great pain. The spirit with which wounded men return to the front, even although their wounds are imperfectly healed, is worthy of all praise, and shows the indomitable determination of the Southern people. In the same car there were several quite young boys of fifteen or sixteen who were badly wounded, and one or two were minus arms and legs, of which deficiencies they were evidently very vain.

The country through which we passed was a dense pine forest, sandy soil, and quite desolate, very uninviting to an invading army. We travelled all night.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 133-4

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Sophia Birchard Hayes, April 6, 1862

Camp Hayes, April 6, 1862.

Dear Mother: — . . . We are to move southward before this will reach you, and before you will hear from me again. . . . We are now about beginning our campaign. Your philosophy as to what befalls us is the true one: What is best for us will occur. I am satisfied that we are doing an important duty, and do not, therefore, feel much anxiety about consequences. . . .

The pleasantest thing in this part of our work is that, in this region, the best people are on our side. We are not in an enemy's country.

[R. B. Hayes.]

Mrs. Sophia Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 224

Major Charles Fessenden Morse: May 6, 1864

Four Miles S. W. Ringgold, Ga.,

May 6, 1864.

An opportunity offers to write and send a letter, and I avail myself of it.

We left Tullahoma on the 28th of April, and, after a series of hard marches, arrived here last night, having come about a hundred miles. If I had time, I would write particulars of this trip, as it was, in some respects, a very interesting one.

We are now in position about five miles from Tunnel Hill. Our corps forming the right flank of the army. In front of and extending along our line is Taylor's Ridge, where we picket. Sherman is evidently concentrating a very large force here. The troops from Knoxville are at Ringgold, and McPherson is moving Logan's Corps somewhere off on our right.

We all have perfect confidence that, if we can get at these beggars over there, we can give them an awful thrashing; but the question is, will they wait for our attack? I believe, though, it is Sherman's plan to follow them up very rapidly, as transportation for everything except rations is reduced to the minimum.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 164

Major Wilder Dwight: February 2, 1862

Cantonment Hicks, February 2, 1862.

A Sunday-morning inspection of your letter, received last evening, prompts me to answer; though it must come out of the blank which is now my book of chronicles. I might write to you, it is true, out of myself. In this case, I should probably exaggerate the thoughts and feelings which spring naturally from the experiences of this new, and, in some sort, intense life. Not that it is now a life of even mental, much less moral or emotional, activity; but I choose the word for its derivative, rather than its acquired significance. The life is tense, in the sense of keeping one on the stretch. All the chords seem to be kept at their highest vibratory capacity. With occasional lapses of depressional laxity, this is true; and it gives the meaning to our seemingly dull existence. Action would be a great relief. You good people, who sit at home and ask for a battle with such impatience for result, can only feebly guess at the temper of the army itself. I do not agree at all with some who speak of our being demoralized. I think we are becoming restive, eager, sore; but, I trust, all the more ready and willing for sacrifice, effort, suffering. I can imagine McClellan himself chafing “to himself within himself” while his hand is on the curb.

But bother reflection; and of all spections the foolishest is introspection. I do not care to analyze my present state; but I do pray that Heaven has not three months more of this kind of life in store for me.

“Aut cita mors, aut victoria lata.”

You may conjecture, from the above, it has been particularly rainy and muddy this week I can call up your coasting scene, not without envy. There is youth in it, and everything young I like. Our snow here is so undecided and capricious that it gives no such hope of enjoyment. And Tug,* too, you say he is depressed. I can well understand the serious concern with which he must regard his country's trial. I hope he will not be doomed to close his eyes, after a last look at the dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union. You must guard his old age till my return. His life has been one of constant struggle and inquiry; he should have an old age of ease and contemplation. I know not what fate is in store for him, but few of us can look back on a life of so many purposes and so much attainment.

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* A favorite old dog, who survived his master but one year.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 193-4

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 9, 1862

Early this morning I was at the depot. The superintendent suggested that I should send some one to Weldon in search of the trunk. He proffered to pass him free. This was kind; but I desired first to look among the baggage at the depot, and the baggage-master was called in. Only two were unclaimed last night; but he said a gentleman had been there early in the morning looking for his trunk, who stated that by some mistake he had got the wrong one last night. He said he stopped at the Exchange, and I repaired thither without delay, where I found my trunk, to the mutual joy of the traveler and myself. It was sent to the cottage, and the stranger's taken to the hotel. Had it not been for my lucky discovery, we should have had no spoons, forks, etc.

My wife has obviated one of the difficulties of the blockade, by a substitute for coffee, which I like very well. It is simply corn meal, toasted like coffee, and served in the same manner. It costs five or six cents per pound — coffee, $2.50.

I heard a foolish North Carolinian abusing the administration to-day. He said, among other things, that the President himself, and his family, had Northern proclivities. That the President's family, when they fled from Richmond, in May, took refuge at St. Mary's Hall, Raleigh, the establishment of the Rev. Dr. Smedes, a Northern man of open and avowed partiality for the Union; and that the Rev. Dr. Mason of the same place, with whom they were in intimate association, was a Northern man, and an open Unionist. That the President's aid, and late Assistant Secretary of State, was an Englishman, imported from the North; Gen. Cooper, the highest in rank of any military officer, was a Northern man; Col. Gorgas, Chief of Ordnance, was also a Northern man; Gen. Lovell, who was in the defeat at Corinth, and who had surrendered New Orleans, was from Pennsylvania; Gen. Smith, in command of Virginia and North Carolina, from New York; and Gen. Winder, commanding this metropolis, a Marylander, and his detectives strangers and aliens, who sold passports to Lincoln's spies for $100 each. He was furious, and swore all the distresses of the people were owing to a Nero like despotism, originating in the brain of Benjamin, the Jew, whose wife lived in Paris.

The Senate, yesterday, passed the following resolutions, almost unanimously:

1st. Resolved by the Congress of the Confederate States of America, That no officer of the Confederate Government is by law empowered to vest Provost Marshals with any authority whatever over citizens of the Confederate States not belonging to the land or naval forces thereof or with general police powers and duties for the preservation of the peace and good order of any city, town, or municipal district in any State of this Confederacy, and any such exercise of authority is illegal and void.

2d. Resolved, That no officer of the Confederate Government has constitutional or other lawful authority to limit or restrict, or in any manner to control the exercise of the jurisdiction of the civil judicial tribunals of the States of this Confederacy, vested in them by the constitutions and laws of the States respectively, and all orders of any such officer, tending to restrict or control or interfere with the full and normal exercise of the jurisdiction of such civil judicial tribunals are illegal and void.

3d. Resolved, That the military law of the Confederate States is, by the courts and the enactments of Congress, limited to the land and naval forces and the militia when in actual service, and to such other persons as are within the lines of any army, navy, corps, division or brigade of the army of the Confederate States.

Yesterday, the Dispatch contained an article, copied from the Philadelphia Inquirer, stating that a certain person who had been in prison here, arrested by order of Gen. Winder, for disloyalty, and for attempting to convey information to the enemy, had succeeded in obtaining his release; and, for a bribe of $100, a passport to leave the Confederacy had been procured from Gen. Winder's alien detectives. The passport is printed in the Philadelphia paper, and the bearer, the narrative says, has entered the United States service.

This must have been brought to the attention of the President; for a lady, seeking a passport to go to her son, sick and in prison in the North, told me that when she applied to Gen. Winder today, he said the President had ordered him to issue no more passports. And subsequently several parties, government agents and others, came to me with orders from the Secretary (which I retain on file), to issue passports for them. I hope this may be the end of Winder's reign.

A letter from Gen. Lee states that, in view of certain movements, he had, without waiting for instructions, delivered the sword, horse, etc. of Gen. Kearney, lately killed, to his wife, who had made application for them. The movements referred to we shall know more about in a few days.

Gen. Van Dorn dispatches the department that his army is safe; that he took thirteen guns and 700 prisoners. So it was not so disastrous a defeat. But the idea of charging five times his number!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 165-7

Diary of Dolly Lunt Burge: November 12, 1864

Warped and put in dresses for the loom. Oh, this blockade gives us work to do for all hands!

SOURCE: Dolly Lunt Burge, A Woman's Wartime Journal, p. 14

Diary of Dolly Lunt Burge: November 15, 1864

Went up to Covington to-day to pay the Confederate tax. Did not find the commissioners. Mid [a slave] drove me with Beck and the buggy. Got home about three o'clock. How very different is Covington from what it used to be! And how little did they who tore down the old flag and raised the new realize the results that have ensued!

SOURCE: Dolly Lunt Burge, A Woman's Wartime Journal, p. 15

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Monday, March 28, 1864

It has been quite warm all day. The ladies started for home this morning but missed the train. We had a brigade review this forenoon, the first since we joined the Sixth Corps, and brigade dress parade in the evening which General Mead witnessed; picket in the morning.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 30

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: September 28, 1864

A provost guard of our regiment is on duty in town to preserve the peace and protect the business interest, which is improving. Service is now held in all the churches. All is quiet. Many seem to think that the war is about over. The rebel sympathizers do not, say they will never give in.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 128