Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: Wednesday, June 18, 1862

Grazed my horse. Did little more. Read some. Paymaster came from Leavenworth.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 18

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: Thursday, June 19, 1862

Went to the Commissary as usual at 9 A. M. Archie got thrown from his horse. Wrote to Fannie. Went bathing with Nettleton and Brownell. Talked Minnie and Professor. Two letters. Home and Fannie.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 18

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: Friday, June 20, 1862

Attended to my usual duties. Read papers.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 18

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Monday, April 27, 1863

Colonel Bankhead has given me letters of introduction to General Bragg, to General Leonidas Polk, and several others.

At 2 P.M. I called on Mrs Bankhead to say good-bye. She told me that her husband had two brothers in the Northern service — one in the army and the other in the navy. The two army brothers were both in the battles of Shiloh and Perryville, on opposite sides. The naval Bankhead commanded the Monitor when she sank.

——— introduced me to a German militia General in a beer-house this afternoon. These two had a slight dispute, as the latter spoke strongly in disapproval of “secret or night lynching.”

The recent escapade of Captain Peñaloso seems to have been much condemned in San Antonio. This individual (formerly a butcher) hanged one of his soldiers a short time ago, on his own responsibility, for desertion and stealing a musket. This event came off at 12 o'clock noon, in the principal plaça of the city. The tree has been cut down, to show the feelings of the citizens.

There can be no doubt that the enforcement of the conscription has, as a general rule, been extremely easy throughout the Confederacy (except among the Germans); but I hear of many persons evading it, by getting into some sort of government employment — such as contractors, agents, or teamsters to the Rio Grande. To my extreme regret I took leave of my friend M'Carthy this evening, whose hospitality and kindness I shall never forget.

I left San Antonio by stage for Alleyton at 9 P.M. The stage was an old coach, into the interior of which nine persons were crammed on three transverse seats, besides many others on the roof. I was placed on the centre seat, which was extremely narrow, and I had nothing but a strap to support my back. An enormously fat German was my vis-à-vis, and a long-legged Confederate officer was in my rear.

Our first team consisted of four mules; we afterwards got horses.

My fellow-travellers were all either military men, or connected with the Government.

Only five out of nine chewed tobacco during the night; but they aimed at the windows with great accuracy, and didn't splash me. The amount of sleep I got, however, was naturally very trifling.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three months in the southern states: April-June, 1863, p. 53-5

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: Thursday Night, April 13, 1865

Fearful rumours are reaching us from sources which it is hard to doubt, that it is all too true, and that General Lee surrendered on Sunday last, the 9th of April. The news came to the enemy by telegram during the day, and to us at night by the hoarse and pitiless voice of the cannon. We know, of course, that circumstances forced it upon our great commander and his gallant army. How all this happened — how Grant's hundreds of thousands overcame our little band, history, not I, must tell my children's children. It is enough for me to tell them that all that bravery and self-denial could do has been done. We do not yet give up all hope. General Johnston is in the field, but there are thousands of the enemy to his tens. The citizens are quiet. The calmness of despair is written on every countenance. Private sorrows are now coming upon us. We know of but few casualties.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 353-4

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Monday, November 30, 1863

Our distress about Gibbes has been somewhat relieved by good news from Jimmy. The jolliest sailor letter from him came this morning, dated only the 4th instant from Cherbourg, detailing his cruise on the Georgia from leaving England, to Bahia, Trinidad, Cape of Good Hope, to France again. Such a bright, dashing letter! We laughed extravagantly over it when he told how they readily evaded the Vanderbilt, knowing she would knock them into “pie”; how he and the French Captain quarreled when he ordered him to show his papers, and how he did not know French abuse enough to enter into competition with him, so went back a first and second time to Maury when the man would not let him come aboard, whereupon Maury brought the ship to with two or three shots and Jimmy made a third attempt, and forced the Frenchman to show his papers. He tells it in such a matter-of-fact way! No extravagance, no idea of having been in a dangerous situation, he a boy of eighteen, on a French ship in spite of the Captain's rage. What a jolly life it must be! Now dashing in storms and danger, now floating in sunshine and fun! Wish I was a midshipman! Then how he changes, in describing the prize with an assorted cargo that they took, which contained all things from a needle to pianos, from the reckless spurt in which he speaks of the plundering, to where he tells of how the Captain, having died several days before, was brought on the Georgia while Maury read the service over the body and consigned it to the deep by the flames of the dead man's own vessel. What noble, tender, manly hearts it shows, those rough seamen stopping in their work of destruction to perform the last rites over their dead enemy. One can fancy their bare heads and sunburned faces standing in solemn silence around the poor dead man when he dropped into his immense grave. God bless the “pirates”!

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 422-3

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 1, 1862

Official dispatches from Lee, announcing a “signal victory,” by the blessing of God, “over the combined forces of the enemy.” That is glory enough for a week. When Lee says “signal victory,” we know exactly what it means, and we breathe freely. Our generals never modify their reports of victories. They see and know the extent of what has been done before they speak of it, and they never mislead by exaggerated accounts of successes.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 151

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 2, 1862

Winchester is evacuated! The enemy fled, and left enough ordnance stores for a campaign! It was one of their principal depots.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 151

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 3, 1862

We lament the fall of Ewell — not killed, but his leg has been amputated. The enemy themselves report the loss, in killed and wounded, of eight generals! And Lee says, up to the time of writing, he had paroled 7000 prisoners, taken 10,000 stand of small arms, 50 odd cannon, and immense stores!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 151

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 4, 1862

The enemy's loss in the series of battles, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, is estimated at 30,000. Where is the braggart Pope now? Disgraced eternally, deprived of his command by his own government, and sent to Minnesota to fight the Indians! Savage in his nature, he is only fit to fight with savages!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 151-2

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 5, 1862

Our army knows no rest. But I fear this incessant marching and fighting may prove too much for many of the tender boys.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 152

Diary of Colonel William F. Bartlett: March 15, 1863

At two in the morning, I was ordered to get the regiment under arms and into line. It was now Sunday morning, 15th. We expected we were going straight to the front. The cannonading was still going on, but was on the river, down nearer to us. Colonel Chapin came to me and told me that we had been repulsed with great loss. He ordered me to take the advance, to clear the road back, with two regiments of infantry and a section of artillery. They were afraid that our passage back would be disputed at the bridge across the Bayou Montesino, by the enemy's coming down on the Clinton Road, to cut us off.

I was told to make for that bridge as fast as possible, and hold it.

Just after we started, I saw an aide of General Emory's, who told me that we hadn't “got a gunboat left, and the army was all cut to pieces.” I knew this was impossible, for we should have been ordered to the front if there had been any fighting of the land force.

At this time a tremendous report came from the river, a quarter of a mile on our right, and several shells seemed to burst directly over our heads. It was the Mississippi when she blew up, a magnificent sight. Everything seemed to give indication of a panic. Teamsters were frightened, and were rushing and crowding with their teams, blocking up the road.

I sent ahead and ordered the wagon train to be stopped, as there were gaps of a mile in some places, which I had to close up. At last I got the troops and artillery to the front. The Forty-eighth had been ordered to start ahead, and they were in such a hurry that I, not overtaking them, sent Ben ahead to stop them till we came up. When we got to the Bayou we found it all clear, the two bridges still there. The plank bridge needed some repair, and I left the Major with two companies to put it in order and make it safe for the teams. I sent one company across on to the Clinton Road to guard against any attack of cavalry on our flank. After the wagon train was well up, I kept on, intending to feel the way into Baton Rouge. After we had marched a mile or two, an order came from Banks to halt until further orders. I waited two hours, and then had orders to go on to Baton Rouge and go into camp. Meantime I heard from an aide-de-camp that, as I supposed, the report of a repulse was false. That two of our gunboats had succeeded in passing the fort. The Mississippi had got aground, been set on fire, floated down, and blown up. We had got within a few rods of our old camp, the men were tired, having been marching since three A. M., when an order came to me to turn round and march back to the Bayou again.

This was rather discouraging, but there was no help for it. I let the men rest an hour, the artillery feed their horses, etc. We got back to the Bayou about hall past four. We met Banks and his staff going into Baton Rouge as we were coming out. Charley Sargent stopped and told me that they had done what they intended to; get the gunboats by. Banks had sent despatches by Farragut to Grant at Vicksburg. The plan had been to draw the enemy out to fight us at Port Hudson, but he had refused offer. I know however that Banks was frightened in the morning, for I saw the order from him himself, ordering the trains to the rear, and back to Baton Rouge as soon as possible. I felt safe from the first, for Banks has made so many good retreats that he must understand it pretty well. We went into camp on the south side of the Bayou, in a large cornfield. I didn't get off my horse till after five; in the saddle nearly fourteen hours the second day. It began to rain now, and the field was soon two or three inches deep with water and mud. I had just got off my horse when I received an order, saying that the Forty-ninth and Fiftieth Massachusetts regiments would be in readiness to march to-night or to-morrow morning on an important expedition, under command of Colonel Bartlett. I was to report immediately to Banks at Baton Rouge, for instructions. I knew that it was absolutely impossible for the men to march in the condition they were, all used up; no chance for sleep in the night on account of the rain, etc.

I also thought it was rather “rubbing it in,” to make me ride all the way back to Baton Rouge in the rain, for instructions, after I had been on the go since three that morning, and it was by this time dark, and thence back here again, and by the time I got here, start off on this new tramp.

So I sent Ben over to Augur's Headquarters, from whence the order came, to explain that my regiment had just got in, had been marching all day, having been to Baton Bouge and back. He said certainly they need not go, that he “did not know they had been marching.” He “had designated Colonel Bartlett to go in command of the expedition as a compliment,” etc. This of course was all very pleasant, and if it had been at any other time I should have liked nothing better. But the regiment was too much exhausted, and I was tired, to say the least. I got some rails to keep us out of the water, which was two or three inches deep in the tent, and slept on these, like a log, till reveille.

I could hardly realize it when some one mentioned that it was Sunday. So different from the quiet day a week before.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 75-8

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Thursday, February 25, 1864

Pleasant but windy. General French reviewed our division to-day — the Third of the Third Corps; muster and payrolls have come; after review spent three hours with my class at the chapel; reported the ladies will have to leave camp next week; hope it isn't so.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 21-2

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Friday, February 26, 1864

Cloudy, high north wind but fair; air full of dust all day; had brigade drill this afternoon; dance in chapel this evening; General W. H. Morris present: Governor Smith has arrived in the army.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 22

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Saturday, February 27, 1864

Pleasant but chilly. The Sixth Corps is on the move this morning for Madison Court House —  probably a reconnoissance. Governor Smith arrived in camp this forenoon. I started for picket about 4 p. m. to relieve the First Division of our Corps which is to accompany the Sixth Corps to Madison Court House; arrived on picket line at 2 a. m. Feb. 28.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 22

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Sunday, February 28, 1864

Did not get up till 9 a. m.; night march very fatiguing; not feeling well; cloudy and threatening rain. Captain P. D. Blodgett visited the line this morning; several Johnnies came into our lines this forenoon; everything quiet this evening.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 22

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Monday, February 29, 1864

Am feeling better this morning; weather gloomy; chilly south wind; considerable cannonading to-day towards Madison Court House; reported General Kilpatrick has captured a portion of Lee's picket line and penetrated to Orange Court House; pickets ordered to be vigilant, etc.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 22

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: September 4, 1864

About midnight last night I was called up by the Adjutant to take a detail of ten men, go to the rear, find the ammunition train, obtain five thousand rounds of cartridges, five boxes. It was estimated the train was about a mile in the rear, owing to the enemy's firing from field guns very late in the night. The boxes were very heavy. The detail ought to have been twenty men, as we had so far to carry the boxes. It was a fearful dark night. Going back we lost our reckoning. Began to think we were approaching the enemy's line. I ordered a halt. Told the boys I would go forward and investigate and locate the regiment if I could. Going forward carefully, listening, looking in all directions, believed I was approaching the enemy's line. I knew when darkness came on both lines were very close to each other. To the right I could see the outline of trees. Approaching them I saw horses, and men sleeping on the ground. Owing to the darkness I could not see who they were. Putting on a bold front I called out “What regiment?” For answer I received a glorious reply, “The 18th Connecticut.” Overjoyed I near dropped to the ground. I ran back to the boys and the ammunition was delivered to headquarters in safety, for which I was very thankful. On our return from the ammunition train we had worked off to the left, approached the regiment from the south instead of from the north side, where we left. Lay down for a rest. Had a talk with some prisoners captured last night on the charge. They were from Mississippi. Claimed they did not know we were in their front. They were on their way to cross Snicker's Ford and the Gap. It seemed to be a surprise all around. We are now under the command of General Sheridan. The enemy won't fool him. At daylight the ammunition was given out and the line of battle was changed. Ordered to fall back and change our position. Passed the 12th Connecticut, in the 19th Corps. We are under the command of Captain Tiffany. Owing to severe service for the past eight months our regiment greatly reduced in numbers. Less than one hundred men fit for duty and not a field officer except the Adjutant. Our regiment detailed to guard the wagon train. Don't like that kind of duty. Must take our turn at it. Guerillas keep us busy. As many of them dress in blue uniforms we cannot tell them from our own men. Sometimes they manage to cut out of a train three or four wagons loaded with supplies. The drivers will most generally obey orders, whether from friend or foes, when they see a gun pointed at their heads. Sometimes it is most impossible to keep the teams close together, but at this time the train is parked, so we stand guard around it. All is quiet at this time along our lines at Berryville.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 120-2

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: Monday, June 9, 1862

Did very little save rest and graze my horse. Letters from Fannie, home and Sarah.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 18

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: Tuesday, June 10, 1862

Great false alarm in camp. Major with Co. "I" went out seven miles. We saw nothing.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 18