Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Friday, May 1, 1863

I called on General Scurry, and found him suffering from severe ophthalmia. When I presented General Magruder's letter, he insisted that I should come and live with him so long as I remained here. He also telegraphed to Galveston for a steamer to take me there and back.

We dined at 4 P.M.: the party consisted of Colonel and Judge Terrill (a clever and agreeable man), Colonel Pyron, Captain Wharton, Quartermaster-General, Major Watkins (a handsome fellow, and hero of the Sabine Pass affair), and Colonel Cook, commanding the artillery at Galveston (late of the U.S. navy, who enjoys the reputation of being a zealous Methodist preacher and a daring officer). The latter told me he could hardly understand how I could be an Englishman, as I pronounced my h's all right. General Scurry himself is very amusing, and is an admirable mimic. His numerous anecdotes of the war were very interesting. In peace times he is a lawyer. He was a volunteer major in the Mexican war, and distinguished himself very much in the late campaigns in New Mexico and Arizona, and at the recapture of Galveston.

After dinner, the Queen's health was proposed; and the party expressed the greatest admiration for Her Majesty, and respect for the British Constitution. They all said that universal suffrage did not produce such deplorable results in the South as in the North; because the population in the South is so very scattered, and the whites being the superior race, they form a sort of aristocracy.

They all wanted me to put off going to Galveston till Monday, in order that some ladies might go; but I was inexorable, as it must now be my object to cross the Mississippi without delay.

All these officers despised sabres, and considered double-barrelled shot-guns and revolvers the best arms for cavalry.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three months in the southern states: April-June, 1863, p. 64-5

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: April 25, 1865

Jeff. Phelps arrived to-day direct from Mosby's command, which is disbanded, but has not surrendered. He is full of enthusiasm and visions of coming success, and is bent on joining Johnston. Dear boy, his hopeful spirit has infected me, and aroused a hope which I am afraid to indulge.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 359-60

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: April 28, 1865

We have no mail communication, and can hear nothing from General Johnston. We go on as usual, but are almost despairing. Dear M., in her sadness, has put some Confederate money and postage stamps into a Confederate envelope, sealed it up, and endorsed it, “In memory of our beloved Confederacy.” I feel like doing the same, and treasuring up the buttons, and the stars, and the dear gray coats, faded and worn as they are, with the soiled and tattered banner, which has no dishonouring blot, the untarnished sword, and other arms, though defeated, still crowned with glory. But not yet — I cannot feel that all is over yet.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 360

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: May 4, 1865

General Johnston surrendered on the 26th of April. “My native land, good-night!”

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 360

The Conquered Banner

By Father Ryan.

Furl that Banner, for 'tis weary;

Round its staff 'tis drooping dreary;

      Furl it, fold it, it is best;

For there's not a man to wave it,

And there's not a sword to save it,

And there's not one left to lave it

In the blood which heroes gave it;

And its foes now scorn and brave it;

      Furl it, hide it—let it rest!

Take that banner down! 'tis tattered;

Broken is its staff and shattered;

And the valiant hosts are scattered

      Over whom it floated high.

Oh! 'tis hard for us to fold it;

Hard to think there's none to hold it;

Hard that those who once unrolled it

      Now must furl it with a sigh.

Furl that Banner! furl it sadly!

Once ten thousands hailed it gladly,

And ten thousands wildly, madly,

      Swore it should forever wave;

Swore that foeman's sword should never

Hearts like theirs entwined dissever,

Till that flag should float forever

      O'er their freedom or their grave!

Furl it! for the hands that grasped it,

And the hearts that fondly clasped it,

Cold and dead are lying low;

And that Banner—it is trailing!

While around it sounds the wailing

      Of its people in their woe.

For, tho' conquered, they adore it!

Love the cold, dead hands that bore it!

Weep for those who fell before it!

Pardon those who trailed and tore it!

But, oh! wildly they deplore it,

      Now who furl and fold it so.

Furl that Banner! True, 'tis gory,

Yet 'tis wreathed around with glory,

And 'twill live in song and story,

      Tho' its folds are in the dust:

For its fame on brightest pages,

Penned by poets and by sages,

Shall go sounding down the ages—

      Furl its folds tho' now we must.

Furl that Banner, softly, slowly!

Treat it gently—it is holy—

      For it droops above the dead.

Touch it not—unfold it never,

Let it droop there, furl it forever,

      For its people's hopes are dead!

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 363-4

Diary of Sarah Morgan: March, 1864

Dead! Dead! Both dead! O my brothers! What have we lived for except you? We, who would have so gladly laid down our lives for yours, are left desolate to mourn over all we loved and hoped for, weak and helpless; while you, so strong, noble, and brave, have gone before us without a murmur. God knows best. But it is hard — O so hard! to give them up. . . .

If we had had any warning or preparation, this would not have been so unspeakably awful. But to shut one's eyes to all dangers and risks, and drown every rising fear with “God will send them back; I will not doubt His mercy,” and then suddenly to learn that your faith has been presumption — and God wills that you shall undergo bitter affliction — it is a fearful awakening! What glory have we ever rendered to God that we should expect him to be so merciful to us? Are not all things His, and is not He infinitely more tender and compassionate than we deserve?

We have deceived ourselves wilfully about both. After the first dismay on hearing of Gibbes's capture, we readily listened to the assertions of our friends that Johnson's Island was the healthiest place in the world; that he would be better off, comfortably clothed and under shelter, than exposed to shot and shell, half fed, and lying on the bare ground during Ewell's winter campaign. We were thankful for his safety, knowing Brother would leave nothing undone that could add to his comfort. And besides that, there was the sure hope of his having him paroled. On that hope we lived all winter — now confident that in a little while he would be with us, then again doubting for a while, only to have the hope grow surer afterwards. And so we waited and prayed, never doubting he would come at last. He himself believed it, though striving not to be too hopeful lest he should disappoint us, as well as himself. Yet he wrote cheerfully and bravely to the last. Towards the middle of January, Brother was sure of succeeding, as all the prisoners had been placed under Butler's control. Ah me! How could we be so blind? We were sure he would be with us in a few weeks! I wrote to him that I had prepared his room.

On the 30th of January came his last letter, addressed to me, though meant for Lavinia. It was dated the 12th — the day George died. All his letters pleaded that I would write more frequently — he loved to hear from me; so I had been writing to him every ten days. On the 3d of February I sent my last. Friday the 5th, as I was running through Miriam's room, I saw Brother pass the door, and heard him ask Miriam for mother. The voice, the bowed head, the look of utter despair on his face, struck through me like a knife. “Gibbes! Gibbes!” was my sole thought; but Miriam and I stood motionless looking at each other without a word. “Gibbes is dead,” said mother as he stood before her. He did not speak; and then we went in.

We did not ask how, or when. That he was dead was enough for us. But after a while he told us Uncle James had written that he had died at two o'clock on Thursday the 21st. Still we did not know how he had died. Several letters that had been brought remained unopened on the floor. One, Brother opened, hoping to learn something more. It was from Colonel Steadman to Miriam and me, written a few hours after his death, and contained the sad story of our dear brother's last hours.

He had been in Colonel Steadman's ward of the hospital for more than a week, with headache and sore throat, but it was thought nothing; he seemed to improve, and expected to be discharged in a few days. On the 21st he complained that his throat pained him again. After prescribing for him, and talking cheerfully with him for some time, Colonel Steadman left him surrounded by his friends, to attend to his other patients. He had hardly reached his room when some one ran to him saying Captain Morgan was dying. He hurried to his bedside, and found him dead. Captain Steadman, sick in the next bed, and those around him, said he had been talking pleasantly with them, when he sat up to reach his cup of water on the table. As soon as he drank it he seemed to suffocate; and after tossing his arms wildly in the air, and making several fearful efforts to breathe, he died.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

“Hush, mother, hush,” I said when I heard her cries. “We have Brother and George and Jimmy left, and Lydia has lost all!” Heaven pity us! George had gone before — only He in mercy kept the knowledge of it from us for a while longer.

On Thursday the 11th, as we sat talking to mother, striving to make her forget the weary days we had cried through with that fearful sound of “Dead! Dead!” ringing ever in our ears, some one asked for Miriam. She went down, and presently I heard her thanking somebody for a letter. “You could not have brought me anything more acceptable! It is from my sister, though she can hardly have heard from us yet!” I ran back, and sitting at mother's feet, told her Miriam was coming with a letter from Lydia. Mother cried at the mention of her name. O my little sister! You know how dear you are to us! “Mother! Mother!” a horrible voice cried, and before I could think who it was, Miriam rushed in, holding an open letter in her hand, and perfectly wild. '”George is dead!” she shrieked, and fell heavily to the ground.

O my God! I could have prayed Thee to take mother, too, when I looked at her. I thought — I almost hoped she was dead, and that pang spared! But I was wild myself. I could have screamed! — laughed! “It is false! Do you hear me, mother? God would not take both! George is not dead!” I cried, trying in vain to arouse her from her horrible state or bring one ray of reason to her eye. I spoke to a body alive only to pain; not a sound of my voice seemed to reach her; only fearful moans showed she was yet alive.

Miriam lay raving on the ground. Poor Miriam! her heart's idol torn away. God help my darling! I did not understand that George could die until I looked at her. In vain I strove to raise her from the ground, or check her wild shrieks for death. “George! only George!” she would cry; until at last, with the horror of seeing both die before me, I mastered strength enough to go for the servant and bid her run quickly for Brother.

How long I stood there alone, I never knew. I remember Ada coming in hurriedly and asking what it was. I told her George was dead. It was a relief to see her cry. I could not; but I felt the pain afresh, as though it were her brother she was crying over, not mine. And the sight of her tears brought mine, too. We could only cry over mother and Miriam; we could not rouse them; we did not know what to do.

Some one called me in the entry. I went, not understanding what I was doing. A lady came to me, told me her name, and said something about George; but I could not follow what she said. It was as though she was talking in a dream. I believe she repeated the words several times, for at last she shook me and said, “Listen! Rouse yourself! the letter is about George!” Yes, I said; he is dead. She said I must read the letter; but I could not see, so she read it aloud. It was from Dr. Mitchell, his friend who was with him when he died, telling of his sickness and death. He died on Tuesday the 12th of January, after an illness of six days, conscious to the last and awaiting the end as only a Christian, and one who has led so beautiful a life, could, with the Grace of God, look for it. He sent messages to his brothers and sisters, and bade them tell his mother his last thoughts were of her, and that he died trusting in the mercy of the Saviour. George! our pride! our beautiful, angel brother! Could he die? Surely God has sent all these afflictions within these three years to teach us that our hopes must be placed Above, and that it is blasphemy to have earthly idols!

The letter said that the physicians had mistaken his malady, which was inflammation of the bowels, and he had died from being treated for something else. It seemed horrible cruelty to read me that part; I knew that if mother or Miriam ever heard of it, it would kill them. So I begged Mrs. Mitchell never to let them hear of it. She seemed to think nothing of the pain it would inflict; how could she help telling if they asked? she said. I told her I must insist on her not mentioning it; it would only add suffering to what was already insupportable; if they asked for the letter, offer to read it aloud, but say positively that she would not allow any one to touch it except herself, and then she might pass it over in silence. I roused Miriam then and sent her to hear it read. She insisted on reading it herself, and half dead with grief held out her hands, begging piteously to be suffered to read it alone. I watched then until I was sure Mrs. Mitchell would keep her promise. Horrible as I knew it to be from strange lips, I knew by what I experienced that I had saved her from a shock that might cost her her life; and then I went back to mother.

No need to conceal what I felt there! She neither spoke nor saw. If I had shrieked that he died of ill treatment, she would not have understood. But I sat there silently with that horrible secret, wondering if God would help me bear it, or if despair would deprive me of self-control and force me presently to cry it aloud, though it should kill them both.

At last Brother came. I had to meet him downstairs and tell him. God spare me the sight of a strong man's grief! Then Sister came in, knowing as little as he. Poor Sister! I could have blessed her for every tear she shed. It was a comfort to see some one who had life or feeling left. I felt as though the whole world was dead. Nothing was real, nothing existed except horrible speechless pain. Life was a fearful dream through which but one thought ran — “Dead —Dead!”

Miriam had been taken to her room more dead than alive — Mother lay speechless in hers. The shock of this second blow had obliterated, with them, all recollection of the first. It was a mercy I envied them; for I remembered both, until loss of consciousness would have seemed a blessing. I shall never forget mother's shriek of horror when towards evening she recalled it. O those dreadful days of misery and wretchedness! It seems almost sacrilege to refer to them now. They are buried in our hearts with our boys — thought of with prayers and tears.

How will the world seem to us now? What will life be without the boys? When this terrible strife is over, and so many thousands return to their homes, what will peace bring us of all we hoped? Jimmy! Dear Lord, spare us that one!

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 426-34

In The Review Queue: Confederate Political Economy

Confederate Political Economy: Creating and Managing a Southern Corporatist Nation, 1861-1865

By Michael Brem Bonner

In Confederate Political Economy, Michael Bonner suggests that the Confederate nation was an expedient corporatist state -- a society that required all sectors of the economy to work for the national interest, as defined by a partnership of industrial leaders and a dominant government. As Bonner shows, the characteristics of the Confederate States' political economy included modern organizational methods that mirrored the economic landscape of other late nineteenth-century and early-twentieth-century corporatist governments.

Southern leaders, Bonner argues, were slave-owning agricultural capitalists who sought a counterrevolution against northern liberal capitalism. During secession and as the war progressed, they built and reinforced Confederate nationalism through specific centralized government policies. Bolstered by the Confederate constitution, these policies evolved into a political culture that allowed for immense executive powers, facilitated an anti-party ideology, and subordinated individual rights. In addition, the South's lack of industrial capacity forced the Confederacy to pursue a curious manufacturing policy that used both private companies and national ownership to produce munitions. This symbiotic relationship was just one component of the Confederacy's expedient corporatist state: other wartime policies like conscription, the domestic passport system, and management of southern railroads also exhibited unmistakable corporatist characteristics. Bonner's probing research and new comparative analysis expand our understanding of the complex organization and relationships in Confederate political and economic culture during the Civil War.

ISBN 978-0807162125, LSU Press, © 2016, Hardcover, 272 pages, Tables, End Notes, Cited Works &Index. $48.00.  To purchase this book click HERE.

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Thursday, April 30, 1863

I have to-day acquired my first experience of Texan railroads.

In this country, where every white man is as good as another (by theory), and every white female is by courtesy a lady, there is only one class. The train from Alleyton consisted of two long cars, each holding about fifty persons. Their interior is like the aisle of a church, twelve seats on either side, each for two persons. The seats are comfortably stuffed, and seemed luxurious after the stage.

Before starting, the engine gives two preliminary snorts, which, with a yell from the official of “all aboard,” warn the passengers to hold on; for they are closely followed by a tremendous jerk, which sets the cars in motion.

Every passenger is allowed to use his own discretion about breaking his arm, neck, or leg, without interference by the railway officials.

People are continually jumping on and off whilst the train is in motion, and larking from one car to the other. There is no sort of fence or other obstacle to prevent “humans” or cattle from getting on the line.

We left Alleyton at 8 A.M., and got a miserable meal at Richmond at 12.30. At this little town I was introduced to a seedy-looking man, in rusty black clothes and a broken-down “stove-pipe” hat. This was Judge Stockdale, who will probably be the next governor of Texas. He is an agreeable man, and his conversation is far superior to his clothing. The rival candidate is General Chambers (I think), who has become very popular by the following sentence in his manifesto: —  “I am of opinion that married soldiers should be given the opportunity of embracing their families at least once a-year, their places in the ranks being taken by unmarried men. The population must not be allowed to suffer.”

Richmond is on the Brazos river, which is crossed in a peculiar manner. A steep inclined plane leads to a low, rickety, trestle bridge, and a similar inclined plane is cut in the opposite bank. The engine cracks on all steam, and gets sufficient impetus in going down the first incline to shoot across the bridge and up the second incline. But even in Texas this method of crossing a river is considered rather unsafe.

After crossing the river in this manner, the rail traverses some very fertile land, part of which forms the estate of the late Colonel Terry. There are more than two hundred negroes on the plantation. Some of the fields were planted with cotton and Indian corn mixed, three rows of the former between two of the latter. I saw also fields with cotton and sugar mixed.

We changed carriages at Harrisburg, and I completed my journey to Houston on a cotton truck.

The country near Houston is very pretty, and is studded with white wooden villas, which are raised off the ground on blocks like haystacks. I reached Houston at 4.30 P.M., and drove to the Fannin House hotel.

Houston is a much better place than I expected. The main street can boast of many well-built brick and iron houses. It was very full, as it now contained all the refugees from the deserted town of Galveston.

After an extremely mild supper, I was introduced to Lieutenant Lee, a wounded hero, who lost his leg at Shiloh; also to Colonel Pyron, a distinguished officer, who commands the regiment named after him.

The fat German, Mr Lee, and myself, went to the theatre afterwards.

As a great favour, my British prejudices were respected, and I was allowed a bed to myself; but the four other beds in the room had two occupants each. A captain, whose acquaintance I had made in the cars, slept in the next bed to me. Directly after we had got into bed a negro came in, who, squatting down between our beds, began to clean our boots. The Southerner pointed at the slave, and thus held forth: — “Well, Kernel, I reckon you've got servants in your country, but not of that colour. Now, sir, this is a real genuine African. He's as happy as the day's long; and if he was on a sugar plantation he'd be dancing half the night; but if you was to collect a thousand of them together, and fire one bomb in amongst them, they'd all run like h—ll.” The negro grinned, and seemed quite flattered.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three months in the southern states: April-June, 1863, p. 60-3

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: Wednesday, April 24, 1865

On Saturday evening my brother's wagon met us at the depot and brought us to this place, beautiful in its ruins. We have not been here since the besom of destruction swept over it, and to us, who have been in the habit of enjoying its hospitality when all was bright and cheerful, the change is very depressing. We miss the respectful and respectable servants, born in the family and brought up with an affection for the household which seemed a part of their nature, and which so largely contributed to the happiness both of master and servant. Even the nurse of our precious little J., the sole child of the house, whose heart seemed bound up in her happiness, has gone. It is touching to hear the sweet child's account of the shock she experienced when she found that her “mammy,” deceived and misled by the minions who followed Grant's army, had left her; and to see how her affection still clings to her, showing itself in the ardent hope that her "mammy " has found a comfortable home. The army had respected the interior of the house, because of the protection of the officers. Only one ornament was missing, and that was the likeness of this dear child. Since the fall of Richmond, a servant of the estate, who had been living in Washington, told me that it was in the possession of a maid-servant of the house, who showed it to him, saying that she “looked at it every day.” We all try to be cheerful and to find a bright side; and we occupy the time as cheerfully as we can. The governess having returned to her home in Norfolk, I shall employ myself in teaching my bright little niece here and the dear children at S. H., and feel blessed to have so pleasant a duty.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 358-9

Diary of Sarah Morgan: February 11, 1864

O God, O God, have mercy on us! George is dead! Both in a week. George, our sole hope — our sole dependence.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 426

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Wednesday, April 29, 1863

Exhausted as I was, I managed to sleep wonderfully well last night. We breakfasted at a place called Hallettsville at 7 A.M., and changed carriages again.

Here we took in four more Confederate soldiers as outsiders, and we were now eighteen in all. Nowhere but in this country would such a thing be permitted.

Owing to the great top-weight, the coach swayed about like a ship in a heavy sea, and the escapes of a capsize were almost miraculous. It is said that at the end of a Texan journey the question asked is not, “Have you been upset?” but, “How many times have you been upset?”

The value of the negroes working in the fields was constantly appraised by my fellow-travellers; and it appeared that, in Texas, an able-bodied male fetched $2500, whilst a well-skilled seamstress was worth $3500.

Two of my companions served through the late severe campaign in New Mexico, but they considered forty-eight hours in a closely-packed stage a greater hardship than any of their military experiences.

We passed many cotton-fields and beautiful Indian corn, but much of the latter had been damaged by the hail.

I was told that one-third of the land formerly devoted to cotton is still sown with that article, the remainder being corn, &c.*

We also passed through some very pretty country, full of fine post-oak and cotton trees, and we met many Mexican cotton-teams — some of the waggons with fourteen oxen or twelve mules, which were being cruelly ill-treated by their drivers.

We crossed several rivers with steep and difficult banks, and dined at a farmhouse at 2.30 P.M.

I have already discovered that, directly the bell rings, it is necessary to rush at one's food and bolt it as quickly as possible, without any ceremony or delay, otherwise it all disappears, so rapacious and so voracious are the natives at their meals whilst travelling. Dinner, on such occasions, in no case lasts more than seven minutes.

We reached Columbus at 6 P.M., and got rid of half our passengers there. These Texan towns generally consist of one large placa, with a well-built courthouse on one side and a hotel opposite, the other two sides being filled up with wooden stores. All their budding prosperity has been completely checked by the war; but every one anticipates a great immigration into Texas after the peace.

We crossed the Colorado river, and reached Alleyton, our destination, at 7 P.M.

This little wooden village has sprung into existence during the last three years, owing to its being the present terminus to the railroad. It was crammed full of travellers and cotton speculators; but, as an especial favour, the fat German and I were given a bed between us. I threw myself on the bed with my clothes on (bien entendu), and was fast asleep in five minutes. In the same room there were three other beds, each with two occupants.

The distance from San Antonio to Alleyton is 140 miles—time, forty-six hours.

_______________

* It is only in Texas that so much cotton is still grown.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three months in the southern states: April-June, 1863, p. 58-60

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: April 20, 1865

The cars on the Central Railroad will run tomorrow, for the first time, under Federal rule, and the day after we will use our passports and free tickets to leave the city — dearer than ever, in its captivity and ruin. It is almost impossible to get current money. A whole-hearted friend from Alexandria met me the other day, and with the straightforward simplicity due to friendship in these trying times, asked me at once, “Has your husband any money?” I told him I thought not. He replied, “Tell him I have between twenty-five and thirty dollars — that's all — and he shall have half of it; tell him I say so.” Ten dollars were accepted, for the circumstances of want which pressed so hard, and for the kindly spirit in which it was offered. Two other friends came forward to share with us their little all. God help the warm hearts of our conquered but precious country! I know they will be blessed, and that light will yet shine through the blackness of darkness which now surrounds them.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 358

Diary of Sarah Morgan: February 5, 1864

Not dead! not dead! O my God! Gibbes is not dead! Where — O dear God! Another?

Only a few days ago came a letter so cheerful and hopeful — we have waited and prayed so patiently — at my feet lies one from Colonel Steadman saying he is dead. Dead! Suddenly and without a moment's warning summoned to God! No! it cannot be! I am mad! O God, have mercy on us! My poor mother! And Lydia! Lydia! God comfort you! My brain seems afire. Am I mad? Not yet! God would not take him yet! He will come again! Hush, God is good! Not dead! not dead!

O Gibbes, come back to us!

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 426

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: Sunday Night, April 16, 1865

The Episcopal churches being closed, we went to the Rev. Dr. Hoge's church. The rector was absent; he went off, to be in Confederate lines ; but the Rev. Dr. Read, whose church is in ruins, occupied the pulpit.

Strange rumours are afloat to-night. It is said, and believed, that Lincoln is dead, and Seward much injured. As I passed the house of a friend this evening, she raised the window and told me the report. Of course I treated it as a Sunday rumour; but the story is strengthened by the way which the Yankees treat it. They, of course, know all about it, and to-morrow's papers will reveal the particulars. I trust that, if true, it may not be by the hand of an assassin, though it would seem to fulfil the warnings of Scripture. His efforts to carry out his abolition theories have caused the shedding of oceans of Southern blood, and by man it now seems has his blood been shed. But what effect will it hare on the South? We may have much to fear. Future events will show! This event has made us wild with excitement and speculation.

General Lee has returned. He came unattended, save by his staff — came without notice, and without parade; but he could not come unobserved; as soon as his approach was whispered, a crowd gathered in his path, not boisterously, but respectfully, and increasing rapidly as he advanced to his home on Franklin Street, between 8th and 9th, where, with a courtly bow to the multitude, he at once retired to the bosom of his beloved family. When I called in to see his high-minded and patriotic wife, a day or two after the evacuation, she was busily engaged in her invalid's chair, and very cheerful and hopeful. “The end is not yet,” she said, as if to cheer those around her; “Richmond is not the Confederacy.” To this we all most willingly assented, and felt very much gratified and buoyed by her brightness. I have not had the heart to visit her since the surrender, but hear that she still is sanguine, saying that “General Lee is not the Confederacy,” and that there is “life in the old land yet.” He is not the Confederacy; but our hearts sink within us when we remember that he and his noble army are now idle, and that we can no longer look upon them as the bulwark of our land. He has returned from defeat and disaster with the universal and profound admiration of the world, having done all that skill and valour could accomplish. The scenes at the surrender were noble and touching. General Grant's bearing was profoundly respectful; General Lee's as courtly and lofty as the purest chivalry could require. The terms, so honourable to all parties, being complied with to the letter, our arms were laid down with breaking hearts, and tears such as stoutest warriors may shed. “Woe worth the day!”

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 355-7

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: Tuesday Night, April 18, 1865

I try to dwell as little as possible on public events. I only feel that we have no country, no government, no future. I cannot, like some others, look with hope on Johnston's army. He will do what he can; but ah, what can he do? Our anxiety now is that our President and other public men may get off in safety. O God! have mercy upon them and help them! For ourselves, like the rest of the refugees, we are striving to get from the city. The stereotyped question when we meet is, “When and where are you going?” Our country relatives have been very kind. My brother offers us an asylum in his devastated home at W. While there we must look around for some other place, in which to build up a home for our declining years. Property we have none — all gone. Thank God, we have our faculties; the girls and myself, at least, have health. Mr. —— bears up under our difficulties with the same hopeful spirit which he has ever manifested. “The Lord will provide,” is still his answer to any doubt on our part. The Northern officials offer free tickets to persons returning to their homes — alas! to their homes! How few of us have homes! Some are confiscated; others destroyed. The families of the army and navy officers are here. The husbands and sons are absent, and they remain with nothing to anticipate and nothing to enjoy. To-day I met a friend, the wife of a high official, whose hospitality I have often enjoyed in one of the most elegant residences in Virginia, which has been confiscated and used as a hospital for “contrabands.” Our conversation naturally turned on our prospects. Hearing where we were going, she replied, “I have no brother, but when I hear from my husband and son, I shall accept the whole-souled invitation of a relative in the country, who has invited me to make his house my home; but,” she added, as her beautiful eyes filled with tears, “when are our visits to end? We can't live with our ruined relatives, and when our visits are over, what then? And how long must our visits of charity last? The question was too sad; neither of us could command our voices, and we parted in silence and tears.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 357-8

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Wednesday, February 3, 1864

Last night we were thrown into the most violent state of commotion by the unexpected entrance of Captain Bradford. He has been brought here a prisoner, from Asphodel, where he has been ever since the surrender of Port Hudson, and taking advantage of his tri-weekly parole, his first visit was naturally here, as he has no other friends.

Poor creature, how he must have suffered! The first glance at his altered face where suffering and passion have both left their traces unmistakably since we last met, and the mere sight of his poor lame leg, filled my heart with compassion.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

How he hates Mr. Halsey! I could not forego the pleasure of provoking him into a discussion about him, knowing how they hated each other. He would not say anything against him; understand, that as a gentleman and a companion, Mr. Halsey was his warmest and best friend; there was no one he admired more; but he must say that as a soldier, he was the worst he had ever seen — not that he was not as brave and gallant a man as ever lived, but he neglected his duties most shamefully while visiting Linwood so constantly, eluding the sentinels daily as he asked for neither pass nor permission, and consulting only his inclinations instead of his superior officers or his business. And that last night at Linwood, when he absented himself without leave, why could he not have signified to him, his Captain, that he wished to say good-bye, instead of quietly doing as he pleased? When the Colonel sent for a report of the number of men, quantity of forage and ammunition, etc., and it was discovered that John Halsey was absent without leave, with the books locked up and the keys in his pocket — even after this lapse of time, the fire flashed through the ice as the Captain spoke. Sergeant Halsey, I am sorry for you when you reported yourself next day! All the fun that could have been crowded into an evening at Linwood could not have repaid you for the morning's scene. And after all, what was it beyond very empty pleasure, with a great deal of laughter? He could have dispensed with it just as well. Looking back, I congratulate myself on being the only one who did not ask him to stay.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 424-6

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes, Monday Morning, March 24, 1862

It is snowing still. What a climate! This storm began Wednesday last. . . .

Captain Drake returned. He was very lucky — caught fifteen bushwhackers, captured twelve horses, eighteen rifles and muskets, fifteen hundred pounds bacon, ten sacks flour, six canoes; destroyed the Rebel headquarters and returned safely. Abram Bragg and Wm. C. Richmond with fifteen or twenty Union men joined them and acted as guides, etc., etc.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 217

Roster of Company E, 11th Iowa Infantry

JOHN W. ALBIN—Age, 18; residence, Newport; nativity, Iowa; enlisted, March 7, 1864; mustered, March 7, 1864; private; wounded, June 15, 1864; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

SAMUEL ALBIN—Age, 18; residence Linn county; nativity, Iowa; enlisted, April 9, 1864; mustered, April 11, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

ROBERT ALEXANDER—Age, 22; residence, Tipton; nativity, Ireland; enlisted, September 2, 1862; mustered, September 12, 1862; private; mustered out, June 2, 1865.

WILLIAM ALEXANDER—Age 22; residence, Tipton; nativity, Ireland; enlisted, September 21, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 25, 1864; private; killed in battle, June 15, 1864.

ALBERT ALLEE—Age, 18; residence, Tipton; nativity, Indiana; enlisted, September 21, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; wounded, June 21, 1864; mustered out expiration of term, October 17, 1864.

JEREMIAH A. ARGO—Age, 18; residence. Springfield; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, April 20, 1864; mustered, April 20, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

THOMAS ARMSTRONG—Age, 18; residence, Tipton: nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, September 23, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

JOHN L. AYERS—Age, 21; residence, Mechanicsvllle; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, October 10, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; mustered out expiration of term, October 17, 1864.

SAMUEL BAIN—Age, 21; residence, Cedar Bluff; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 28, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

EGBERT BANKS—Age, 25; residency, Davenport; nativity. New York; enlisted, October 6, 1864; mustered, October 6, 1864; private: mustered out, July 15, 1865.

CORYDON BARKER—Age, 28; residence, Grinnell; nativity, Kentucky; enlisted, September 23, 1864; mustered, September 23, 1864; private; discharged for disabilities. May 10, 1865.

WILLIAM BARRETT—Age, 20; residency, Cambridge; nativity, Maine; enlisted, September 13, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran: reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; 4th Corporal January 1, 1865; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

Fred BARTIMER—Age, 19; residence, Davenport; nativity, Germany; enlisted, October 3, 1864; mustered, October 4, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

JOHN R. or W. BATDERP—Age, 30; residence, Tipton; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, September 14, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861: private; 4th Corporal December 12, 1861; discharged for disabilities, July 25, 1862.

GEORGE BERRIMAN—Age, 21; residence, Tipton; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 9, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

MONROE S. BLAZER—Age, 21; residence, Springfield; nativity, Virginia; enlisted, March 2, 1864; mustered, March 2, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

JOHN W. BOLTON—Age, 18; residence, Tipton; nativity, Iowa; enlisted, September 21, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private: promoted, 4th Corporal September 10, 1862; discharged for disabilities, March 9, 1863.

BENJAMIN BOSSERT—Age, 18; residence, Tipton; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, October 1, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864: private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

PETER R. BRADSHAW—Age, 19; residence, Tipton, nativity, Iowa; enlisted, September 28, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

ANDREW BRIDGER—Age, 24; residence. Tipton: nativity. West Virginia; enlisted, March 3, 1864; mustered, March 3, 1864; private; discharged for disabilities, May 26, 1865.

ABRAHAM BROWN—Age, 34; residence, Tipton; nativity, Pennsylvania: enlisted, October 1, 1861; mustered October 5, 1861; private; promoted, wagoner; died of disease, January 2, 1864.

ASA S. BRUNSON—age, 33; residence, Tipton; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 30, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; wounded, September 5, 1864; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

WILLIAM H. BUCK—Age, 25; residency, Davenport; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, October 7, 1864; mustered, October 7, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

JOHN R. BUCKMAN—Age, 18; residence, Le Claire; nativity, Illinois; enlisted, August 26, 1861; mustered, October 15, 1861; private; killed in battle, April 6, 1862.

HENRY L. CANFIELD—Age, 22; residence, Davenport; nativity, Indiana; enlisted, September 28, 1864; mustered, September 28, 1864; private; mustered out, June 2, 1865.

ALFRED CAREY—Age, 25; residency, Tipton; nativity. New York; enlisted, August 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; office, 3d Sergeant; 2d Lieutenant April 7, 1862; 1st Lieutenant October 1, 1862; wounded, June 15, 1864; died of wounds, July 25, 1864.

WASHINGTON CARL—Age, 23; residence, Tipton; nativity, Iowa; enlisted September 28, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

NATHAN CHASE—Age, 18; residence, Tipton; nativity, Illinois; enlisted, September 16, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

WILLIAM CHOWIN—Age, 39; residency, Davenport; nativity, England; enlisted, October 7, 1864; mustered, October 7, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

ELMORE CHRISMAN—Age, 25; residence, Tipton; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 28, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; wounded, April 6, 1862; discharged for disabilities, December 2, 1862.

MAJOR CHRISTMAS—Age, 38; residence, Tipton; nativity, England; enlisted. September 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1861; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

JOEL H. CLARK—age, 24; residence, Ireland; nativity. New York; enlisted, August 20, 1861: mustered, October 5, 1861; 1st Sergeant; transferred, Inv. Corps March 15, 1864; no record.

JOHN F. COMPTON—Age, 36: residence, Ireland; nativity, England; enlisted. October 5, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; 1st Lieutenant October 5, 1861; killed in battle, April 6, 1862.

DWIGHT D. COMSTOCK—Age, 36; residence, Davenport; nativity, New York; enlisted, September 21, 1864; mustered, September 21, 1364; private; mustered out, June 2, 1865.

CHARLES CORRELL—Age, 20; residence, Davenport; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 28, 1864; mustered, September 28, 1864; private; mustered out, June 2, 1865.

GEORGE CROAK—Age, 20; residence, Le Claire; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, August 26, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; killed in battle, April 6. 1862.

WILLIAM CROSS—Age, 25; residence, Tipton; nativity. New York; enlisted, September 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; killed in battle, July 5, 1864.

ORRIN CULVER—Age, 26; residence, Grinnell; nativity, Ohio; Enlisted, September 23, 1864; mustered, September 23, 1864; private; mustered out, June 2, 1865.

GEORGE CUSH—Age, 25; residence, Cedar Rapids; nativity, Germany; enlisted, August 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

JOHN M. DANIELS—Age, 26; residence, Tipton; nativity. New York; enlisted, September 24, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; 1st Corporal; discharged for disabilities, October 13, 1862.

SYLVESTER DANIELS—Age, 33; residency, Inland; nativity. New York; enlisted, August 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; drummer; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

FERDINAND DAVIS—Age, 22; residence, Davenport: nativity, Indiana; enlisted, September 22, 1864; mustered, September 22, 1864; private; mustered out, June 2, 1865.

PATRICKS DEMPSEY—Age, 20; residence, Davenport; nativity, Canada; enlisted, September 23, 1864; mustered, September 23, 1864; private; deserted, November 13, 1864.

JOHN A. Dickson —Age, 19; residence, Davenport; nativity, Maine; enlisted, October 4, 1864; mustered, October 4, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

LEROY DOUGLAS—Age, p residency, Cedar County; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, September 30, 1861; mustered, October 5. 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 23, 1864; private; wounded, June 15, 1864; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

THEODORE DOUGLAS—Age, 18; residence, Tipton; nativity. Pennsylvania; enlisted, September 24, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; no record.

ALEXANDER G. DOWNING—Age, 18; residence. Inland; nativity, Indiana; enlisted, August 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; 6th Corporal March 1, 1864; 5th Corporal; 4th Sergeant January 1, 1865; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

DAVID DRAUCKER—Age, 23; residence, Tipton; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, August 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; fifer; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

LORENZO D. DURBIN—Age, 35; residence, Tipton; nativity, Ohio; mustered, October 5, 1861; 2d Lieutenant September 22, 1861; 1st Lieutenant April 7, 1862; resigned, September 28, 1862.

JOHN W. DWIGGANS—Age, 19; residence, Tipton; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 23, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; wounded, April 6, 1862; died of wounds, May 7, 1862.

WILLIAM DWIGGANS—Age, 19; residence, Tipton; nativity, Iowa; enlisted, September 23, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; died of disease, December 28, 1861.

CHARLES EDDY—Age, 25; residence, Davenport; nativity, Canada; enlisted. October 3, 1864; mustered, October 3, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

GEORGE W. EICHER—Age, 22; residence, Woodbridge; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 23, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; mustered out expiration of term, October 17, 1864.

LEWIS ELSEFFER—Age, 18; residence, Woodbridge; nativity, New York; enlisted, September 12, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; 6th Corporal; 4th Corporal January 1, 1864; 3d Corporal May 1, 1864; 1st Corporal January 1, 1865; mustered out, July 26, 1865.

JOHN W. ESHER—Age, 25; residence, Woodbridge; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, September 23, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 23, 1864; wounded, June 25, 1864; discharged for disabilities, March 20, 1865.

WILLIAM ESHER —Age, 23;  residency. Inland; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, September 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

William C. FALLS—Age, 33; residence, Tipton; nativity, Virginia; enlisted, August 30, 1862; mustered, August 30, 1862; mustered out, June 2, 1865.

JOHN FERREN—Age, 24; residence, Davenport; nativity, Ireland; enlisted, October 11, 1864; mustered, October 11, 1864; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

FRANK FISHER—Enlisted, October 5, 1861; rejected by mustering officer.

DEAN FORD—Age, 23; residency, Tipton; nativity, Indiana; enlisted, September 21, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

JOHN FORD—Age, 23; residency, Tipton; nativity, Indiana; enlisted, September 14, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; wounded, June 15, 1864: mustered out expiration of term, October 17, 1864.

JAMES FOSSETT—Age, 21; residence, Inland; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 26, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; 6th Corporal; discharged for disabilities, October 17, 1862.

HIRAM FRANK—Age, 42; residence, Tipton; nativity. New York: enlisted, September 24, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; 3d Corporal; 6th Sergeant October 16, 1882; 4th Sergeant May 1, 1864; 2d Sergeant November 1, 1864; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

GOTTHES JOHN FREDERICK—Age, 18; Residency, Davenport: nativity, Germany; enlisted October 7, 1864; mustered, October 7, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

ALLEN FRINK—Age, 22; residence, Tipton; nativity, New York; enlisted, September 26, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; wounded, April 6, 1862; no further record.

CARLTON FRINK—Age, 18; residence, Tipton, nativity, New York; enlisted, September 26, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; killed in battle, April 6, 1862.

WILLIAM H. GREEN—Age, 21; residence. Tipton; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, August 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted. January 1, 1864; private; 5th Corporal January 1, 1865; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

THOMAS M. HAINES—Age, 24; residence. Tipton; nativity. New York; enlisted, September 21, 1861; mustered, October 5. 1861; private; killed in battle, April 6. 1862.

JOHN W. HARDIN—Age, 20; residency, Jefferson City; nativity, Missouri; enlisted, December 19, 1861; mustered, December 19, 1861; private; hospital June 30, no record.

HARRISON HARRICE—Age, 25; residency, Tipton; nativity, Maryland; enlisted, September 24, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; discharged for disabilities, July 14, 1862.

PITT B. HARRINGTON—Age, 21; residence, Tipton; nativity, Michigan; enlisted, September 17, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

ABNER H. HATCH—Age, 25; residence. Tipton; nativity. New York; enlisted, September 14, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; discharged for disabilities, August 13. 1862.

LEWIS P. HAZEN—Age, 30; residence, Davenport; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 28, 1864; mustered, September 28, 1864; private; mustered out, June 16, 1865.

NICODEMUS D. HENRY—Age, 19; residence. Cedar County; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, April 19, 1864; mustered, April 19, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

AUGUSTUS F. HERRICK—Age, 19; residency, Davenport; nativity. New York; enlisted, October 8, 1864; mustered, October 8, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

JOHN HILTON—Age, 18; residence, Davenport; nativity, Missouri; enlisted, April 25, 1864; mustered, April 27, 1864; private; wounded, July 5, 1864, and September 2, 1864; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

ROBERT L. HILTON—Rejected by mustering officer October 5, 1861.

DAVID HOBAUGH—Age, 21; residence, Toronto; nativity, Indiana; enlisted, September 17, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; prisoner, October 4, 1862; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; killed in battle, July 20, 1864.

DAVID HUFF—Age, 21; residence, Inland; nativity, Indiana; enlisted, August 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; 2d Corporal; 1st Corporal May 1, 1864; wounded, August 12, 1864; died of wounds, August 23, 1864.

CHARLES J. JOHNSON—Age, 22; residence, Mechanicsvllle; nativity. Ohio; enlisted, October 5, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; died of disease, November 25, 1863.

FRANK JOHNSON—Age, 19; residency, Tipton; enlisted, October 5, 1861: mustered, October 5, 1861; reenlisted January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

JOHN C. JOHNSON—Age 18: residence. Marshall County; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, March 23, 1864; mustered, March 23, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

JOHN KINNAN—Age, 22; residence, Tipton: nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, September 16, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

CRAVEN LANE—Age, 19; residence, Tipton; nativity, Indiana; enlisted, September 21, 1861: mustered, October 5, 1861; private; died of disease, January 3, 1862.

JOHN LETT—Age 19; residence, Tipton; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 21, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran: reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; 3d Corporal January 1, 1865; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

AUGUSTUS LOBSHEIR—Age, 22; residence, Woodbridge: nativity. Germany; enlisted, September 25, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; 5th Sergeant; 2d Sergeant October 1, 1862; Sergeant-Major November 1, 1864; discharged for disabilities, July 17, 1865.

JOEL LONG—Age, 22; residence, Cedar Bluff; nativity, Iowa; enlisted, September 30, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; Wagoner; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

PETER LONG—Age. 18; residence. Davenport; nativity, Ohio; enlisted. October 11, 1864; mustered, October 11, 1864; private; deserted, November 11, 1864.

HUGH C. McBlRNEY—Age, 21: residence. Mechanicsville; nativity. Canada; enlisted, September 26, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; 3d Corporal; mustered out expiration of term, October 17, 1864.

PADENARIN McCARTNEY—Age 39; residence, Tipton; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, September 23, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private, discharged—?¹

THOMAS McCONNOLL—Age, 24; residence, Tipton; nativity, Pennsylvania: enlisted, August 26, 1861; mustered, October 5. 1861; private; wounded, June 15, 1864; mustered out, expiration of term, October 31, 1864.

EBENEZER McCULLOUGH—Age, 23: residence, Davenport; nativity. Ohio; enlisted, October 1, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; died of disease, August 3, 1862.

JOSEPH McKIBBEN—Age, 26; residence. Tipton; nativity, Ireland; enlisted, September 23, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; mustered out, expiration of term, April 1, 1865.

EZRA McLONEY—Age, 25; residence, Tipton: nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 28, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; 4th Sergeant; killed in battle, April 6, 1862.

Samuel S. McLONEY—Age, 33; residence. Inland; nativity, Ohio; mustered, October 5, 1861: appointed Captain October 5, 1861; mustered out; expiration of term, October 26, 1864.

ROBERT McWILLIAM—Age, 36; residence, Grinnell; nativity, Scotland; enlisted, September 23, 1864; mustered, September 23, 1864; private; mustered out, July 2, 1865.

George G. MAIN—Age, 32; residence, Lowden; nativity. New York; enlisted, September 19, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; 4th Corporal; wounded, January 15, 1864; mustered out, July 8, 1865.

JAMES MARTIN—Age, 19; residence, LeClaire; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, August 26, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; prisoner, October 4, 1862; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; killed in battle, June 15, 1864.

SAMUEL METCALF—Age, 25; residence, Tipton; nativity, Vermont; enlisted, August 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; mustered out, expiration of term, October 17, 1864.

GEORGE MOONEY—Age, 22; residence, Tipton; nativity, Ohio; enlisted. September 9, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; mustered out, October 18, 1864.

JOHN D. MOORE—Age, 20; residence, Inland: nativity, Indiana; enlisted, March 23, 1864; mustered, March 23, 1864; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

DANIEL MOWERY—Age, 24; residence, Tipton; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, September 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; discharged for disabilities, March 27, 1863.

MARION Z. MUSCHOTZY—Residence, Lookout Station, Mo.; enlisted, January 17, 1862; private; deserted, June, 1862.

FRANCIS NEESE—Age, 21; residence, Fort Dodge; nativity, Indiana; enlisted, September 28, 1864; mustered, September 28, 1864; private; mustered out, June 2, 1865.

REUBEN NEESE—Age, 26; residence, Fort Dodge; nativity, Indiana; enlisted, September 28, 1864; mustered, September 28, 1864; private; died of disease, March 2, 1865.

HENRY NEWANS—Age, 18; residence, Tipton; nativity, Canada; enlisted, September 23, 1861; mustered, October 5. 1861; veteran: reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; wounded, July 22, 1864; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

JAMES NEWCOM—Age, 26; residence, Tipton; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, October 17, 1861; mustered, October 17, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; 5th Corporal; 3d Corporal, January 1, 1863; 2d Corporal May 1, 1864; 3d Sergeant October 27, 1864; 1st Sergeant January 1, 1865; 2d Lieutenant July 29, 1865; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

FOREST NOWLIN—Age, 18; residence, Davenport; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, October 10, 1864; mustered, October 10, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

CULVER ORRIN—See Orrin Culver.

WILLIAM PATTEN—Age, 19; residence, Tipton; nativity, Indiana; enlisted, September 26, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

AARON PEARCE— Age, 21; residence, Tipton; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 22, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; prisoner, missing in action July 22, 1864; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

ABRAHAM PENCE—Rejected October 5, 1861.

ALEXANDER RAGAN—Age, 18; residence, Tipton; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, April 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; died of disease, September 9, 1863.

EBENEZER RANKIN—Age, 22; residence, Mechanicsville; nativity, Ireland; enlisted, September 26, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; 4th Corporal; mustered out expiration of term, October 17, 1864.

JAMES RANKIN—Age, 21; residence, Mechanicsville; nativity, Ireland; enlisted, September 26, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

EDWIN D. REAVES—Age, 21; residence, Tipton; nativity Ohio: enlisted. September 21, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; discharged for disabilities, April 15, 1863.

CHRISTIAN REIGART—Age, 18; residence, Tipton; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, September 28, 1861; mustered October 5, 1861; private; discharged for disabilities, November 2, 1861.

JOHN T. RICE—Age, 22; residence, Lowden; nativity, Virginia; enlisted. September 17, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; died of disease, April 19, 1862.

ROSCOE R. ROYSTER—Age, 29; residence Fort Dodge; nativity, Iowa; enlisted, September 28, 1864; mustered, September 28, 1864; private; mustered out, June 2, 1865.

BURTIS H. RUMSEY—Age, 18; residence, Tipton; nativity, Ohio: enlisted. October 1, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

JAMES K. RUMSEY—Age 23; residence, Davenport; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, April 6, 1864; mustered April 6, 1864; private; died of disease, February 2, 1865.

JAMES RYON—-Age, 27; residence, Davenport; nativity, Canada; enlisted, October 12, 1864; mustered, October 12, 1864; private; deserted, November 13, 1864.

ALBERT B. SILES—Age, 23; residence, Wyoming; nativity, New York; enlisted, September 28, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; 7th Corporal; 2d Corporal; mustered out expiration of term, October 17, 1864.

GEORGE W. SIMMONS—Age, 22; residence, Tipton; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 21, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; wounded, April 6, 1862; died of wounds, May 12, 1862.

WILSON SIMMONS—Age, 21; residence, Tipton; nativity, Ohio; enlisted. September 23. 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; died of disease, April 15, 1862.

ADAM C. SMITH—Age, 29; residence, Tipton; nativity, New York; enlisted, August 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; private; died of disease, 1863.

JASON C. SPARKS—Age, 21: residence, Le Grand; nativity, Indiana; enlisted, March 31. 1864; mustered, March 31, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

WILLIAM SPENCER—Age, 26; residence, Davenport: nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, August 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; 2d Sergeant; 2d Lieutenant October 1, 1862; Captain October 27, 1864; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

ORLANDO STOUT—Age, 18; residence, Tipton; nativity, Iowa; enlisted, September 21, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

DANIEL E. SWEET—Age. 23; residence, Tipton; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, August 20, 1861; October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; 2d Corporal; 1st Corporal; 5th Sergeant May 1, 1864; 3d Sergeant January 1, 1865; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

GEORGE SWEET—Age, 18; residence, Tipton; nativity, Wisconsin; enlisted, January 1, 1864; mustered, January 6, 1864; private; killed in battle, July 22, 1864.

HENRY L. SWEET—Age, 20: residence, Tipton; nativity, Pennsylvania: enlisted, August 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; 8th Corporal; died of disease. May 4, 1862.

HENRY M. SWIFT—Age, 18; residence, Boone county; nativity, Missouri; mustered, December 19, 1861; private; died of disease, June 23, 1862.

MILTON SWIFT—Supposed to be Henry M. Swift.

Odell THORNE—Age, 20; residence, Louden; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 17, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

GEORGE M. TITUS—Age, 22; residence, Louden; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, September 18, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted. January 1, 1864; fifer; 5th Sergeant January 1, 1865; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

JOSEPH TOMLINSON—Age, 24; residence, Tipton; nativity, New York; enlisted, September 14, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; 3d Sergeant; 1st Sergeant May 1, 1864; 1st Lieutenant December 17, 1864; Captain July 29, 1865; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

GEORGE W. TOYNE—age, 27; residence, Tipton; nativity, England; enlisted, August 20, 1862; mustered, August 30, 1862; private; mustered out, June 2, 1865.

GEORGE W. TUTHILL—Age, 30; residence, Davenport; nativity, New York; enlisted, March 25, 1864; mustered, March 25, 1864; private; mustered out, July 11, 1865.

PETER VINRICHE—Age, 32; residence, Louden; nativity, France; enlisted. September 18, 1861; mustered, October 5. 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

SALEM WADE—Age, 21; residence, Davenport; nativity, New York; enlisted, September 23, 1864; mustered, September 23, 1864; private; mustered out, June 2, 1865.

LEROY WALDO—Age, 22; residence, Davenport; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 28, 1864; mustered, September 28, 1864; private; mustered out, June 2, 1865.

DARIUS WATERHOUSE—Age, 25; residence, Davenport; nativity, New York; enlisted, January 27, 1864; February 11, 1864; private; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

JOHN A. WHITE—Age, 22; residence, Wyoming; nativity, Michigan; enlisted, September 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted January 1, 1864; 5th Corporal; 4th Sergeant October 16, 1862; 3d Sergeant May 1, 1864; 2d Lieutenant October 27, 1864; 1st Lieutenant. July 29, 1865; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

MILTON G. WAGGINS—Age, 18; residence, Tipton; nativity, Ohio; enlisted, September 9, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; private; 8th Corporal April 25, 1862; 7th Corporal: 5th Corporal January 1, 1864; 4th Corporal; 2d Corporal January 1. 1865; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

GEORGE T. WILLCOTT—Age, 20; residence, Inland; nativity, Ohio; enlisted. August 20, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; died of disease, May 12, 1862.

JOHN ZITLER—Age, 19; residence, Tipton; nativity, Pennsylvania; enlisted, September 24, 1861; mustered, October 5, 1861; veteran; reenlisted, January 1, 1864; wounded, June 15, 1864; mustered out, July 15, 1865.

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¹ See Downlng's Civil War Diary, p. 222.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 298-302