Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Wednesday, April 9, 1862

There is a continual rain now falling. It seems that the battle storms of Shiloh have opened the windows of heavens. Our camp is in a wretched condition.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 65

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: April 9-29, 1862

Scarcely any sunshine is seen. During this time the odor from the battle-field is sickening, and the sick list is increasing every day. On the 16th we find the gallant Lieutenant Ring in the hospital. Being exposed so much during the battle, and ever since the battle, his physical powers have been giving way, notwithstanding his firm, determined will. We are all anxious for the recovery of his health, for the late battle tells us that company H cannot well spare him who led them so faithfully through Shiloh's dark days, after Captain Holden took sick and left the field.

We have marching orders now. We have passed through stormy days while here. The world shall never know their story. The pen will be moved to tell it, but it will never be told. We shall now enter upon another campaign. May the God of battles be with us, and nerve strong arms to hold the flag up until the song of victory and peace shall be sung by liberty's happy people! Major Rowett has been sent to a northern hospital. We regret it very much, for we shall miss him as we move southward.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 65

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, April 29, 1862

This morning we commence early to make preparations to move from our camp at Shiloh. 9 o'clock.—We are in line, waiting for the command “forward” to be given. Colonel Babcock having returned from the hospital, is now in command of the regiment, and we all feel that he will, as in days past, lead the regiment forth to victory. But we all regret that the gallant Rowett and Ring are not with us to aid in the coming campaign. At ten o'clock the Third Brigade, consisting of the Seventh, Fiftieth and Fifty-seventh Illinois, and Twenty-second Ohio, commanded by Colonel Baldwin, of the Fifty-seventh Illinois, move forward from Pittsburg Landing, marching in the direction of Corinth, Mississippi. Owing to the condition of the roads, and the jamming together of the artillery and the army trains, we only succeed in getting about five miles from the landing, when we go into camp for the night.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 66 

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Wednesday, April 30, 1862

This morning the whole army is in motion, except the part sticking in the mud. The Third Brigade only goes three miles, when they halt and go into camp for the remainder of the day and night. We have a good camping ground, which, with the refreshing and healthy atmosphere blowing around us, makes all seem cheerful. All seem glad that they are away from Shiloh's sickening field.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 67 

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Thursday, May 1, 1862

This morning we again take up the line of march. The army is moving slowly on, and will continue to move on until the old flag makes another victorious stand for the Union and freedom. Towards evening we increase our speed. Some one says we have been ordered to join Sherman to-night. It proves true; we hasten on and go into camp late in the evening, at Monterey, joining General Sherman's command, which has come to a stand.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 67

Diary of 5th Sergeant Osborn H. Oldroyd: June 15, 1863

Our regiment went into the rifle-pits again before daylight, at which time the din of musketry and cannonading from both sides had begun, and will cease only when darkness covers the earth.

We are now so close to Fort Hill that a hard tack was tossed into it by one of our boys, and then held up on a bayonet there, to satisfy us of its safe arrival. Some of the boys have become reckless about the rifle-pits, and are frequently hit by rebel bullets. Familiarity breeds a contempt of danger.

Some of the boys wounded at Raymond have got back to us, and are now ready again to do their part. They are, however, more timid than we who have been at the front so long. It is fun to see these new-comers dodge the balls as they zip along. But they, too, will soon become accustomed to flying lead.

Several of the boys have been hit, but not hurt badly, as the balls were pretty nearly spent before reaching them. Those returning from Raymond say they have marked the graves there, but I fear it will not be long before the last vestige of the resting places of our late comrades will be lost.

SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 54

Diary of 5th Sergeant Osborn H. Oldroyd: June 16, 1863

We were relieved before daylight, and returned to camp pretty tired. I did not feel well last night, and having had no chance to sleep, I am a little the worse for wear this morning.

There was not much firing done during the night, but we had to keep a good lookout, as there are apprehensions of an outbreak. I do not often go star-gazing, but last night I sat and watched the beauty above. Daytime is glorious, but when night. unfurls her banner over care-worn thousands among these hills, and the stars come out from their hiding places, our thoughts seek loftier levels. It was just as though one day had died, and another was born to take its place. Not a breeze stirred the foliage, except as fanned by the whirling shells. My thoughts were of home, and of the dear sister there, bedridden, with but little hope of health again. Her dearest wish, I know, is to see her only brother once more before she passes away to that heavenly peace for which she is destined. Through these terrible two years past, thoughts of home and a safe return to an unbroken family circle, have been my constant guiding star.

SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 54-5

Diary of 5th Sergeant Osborn H. Oldroyd: June 17, 1863

I was detailed to the charge of a squad of men to guard rebel prisoners in the corral at Logan's headquarters. They were not hard to guard, for they think themselves in pretty good hands, and surely they seem to get better grub here than in their own lines. Some of them are deserters, and upon such I look with contempt. I am ready to share my rations with an honest prisoner, but have no use for a man who enlists in a cause, and then deserts his comrades when they get into a tight place.

If what they say is true, the garrison over there is already familiar with mule meat and scanty meal rations. If they have had to eat mules such as we have killed in the trenches, I pity them, for they are on a tough job. Several cows which I suppose had served families there with milk, we had to kill for browsing too close to our lines.

I am pretty well convinced Pemberton would not hold out much longer but for the help he expects from Johnston. If that, however, is all the hope they have, they might as well surrender at once, for if Johnston should come, he can not do them any good.

A ball struck a little drummer boy a while ago, and he limped off, whimpering: “I wouldn't care a darn, but my other leg has been shot already.” Some of the boys went to his assistance, and then they had to hurry towards the hospital, for the rebels got range of them and began firing quite briskly.

I was quite amused to see one of the prisoners brought in today, eating his supper. We gave him all he could eat, and that was no small amount. But he was certainly a very hungry man, and if he is a fair sample of those remaining in Vicksburg, Uncle Sam's commissary will have to endure quite a burden, for after the surrender, no doubt, Grant will have to feed them all.

_______________

* This projectile, as shown in No. 1, is composed of a cast-iron body. The expanding portion is a papier-mache wad, which being forced onto the cone, is expanded into the rifling of the bore. On issuing from the bore, the wad is blown to pieces, leaving the projectile entirely unincumbered in its flight through the air (No. 2.)

SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 55-6

Diary of 5th Sergeant Osborn H. Oldroyd: June 18, 1863

Aiming at the Court House.

I was relieved from guard at 9 A. M. and returned to camp. There has been very heavy firing all day, and it is rumored that Pemberton will try to break through our lines; but if he tries that game he will find it dangerous enough. It is no easy matter to climb over the bulwark of steel now encircling this city.

The weather is getting altogether too hot for comfort. A few sunstrokes have occurred, but without proving fatal so far. One poor fellow even dropped at midnight, when I have been-moonstruck. There are more ways than one of shirking a battle, for which purpose some are even willing to part with a finger or toe.

 If the rebels are short of provisions, their ammunition seems to hold out, for they are quite liberal in their distribution of it. But when Sherman begins firing from the east, McClernand from the west, McPherson from the rear, and the mortars from the north, then look out for big fire-works.

The cannon are all pointed towards the town, but some of the shells fall far short of it. When these burst in mid-air, we can see a small round cloud of smoke left behind, and then there is a sharp lookout for fragments to be scattered in every direction. Our artillerymen have had such good practice during the siege, that they can generally drop a shell wherever they want to.

Boys at the front have time for sport which is not to be interrupted even by stray shells. I noticed four of our boys playing euchre, when a shell from the enemy came careering just above their heads; but they treated it with entire indifference. Another group I saw playing “seven-up” under a blanket caught at the four corners in the hammers of muskets stuck in the ground, and thereby forming a very good shelter from the sun. A shell burst right over this group, scattering its fragments all around, but even this failed to disturb the game, further than to call forth the timely comment, “Johnny passes.”

A game of euchre, with a shell for trumps.

SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 56-8

Diary of 5th Sergeant Osborn H. Oldroyd: June 19, 1863

Whitworth Projectile

For a month we have been watching our enemy vigilantly, and a panorama, consisting of a great variety of war scenes, has, during that time, passed before us. We have had charging, digging rifle-pits, blowing up forts and firing all sizes of cannon, to say nothing of percussion shells, spherical case shot, time shells, parrot, grape, cannister, shrapnel, etc., the memory of which will be vivid to all, both blue and gray, who have seen the show around Vicksburg. The terrible noises, too, that have rung in our ears, must echo for years to come. I may add our endurance of this southern sun, at times being short of rations, and at no time out of danger, yet all the time nearly uncomplaining-every one trying to make the best of it, and all as merry as the situation would admit. Each day some of the Boys have come in relating new discoveries on reconnoisance, and I do not think there is a foot of ground about these hills that has not been explored, a well or spring that has not been tested, or a single object of interest of any kind that has not been worked until it was stale.

SHELL WITH FUSE.—The fuse is graduated on the outside into equal parts, representing seconds and quarter-seconds. In the bottom of this channel is a smooth layer of a composition of lead and tin, with a piece of wick or yarn underneath it. On this is placed a piece of metal. When ready for firing, the dial is gauged at the proper point at which the fuse is to burn through into the shell.

Then each man has had his peculiar view of how a siege like this ought to be conducted—that is, from the standpoint of rank and file. However, we are all agreed that the quiet man in command of our forces is still able to anticipate the requirements of our situation. I call him quiet, for that is just what he is. There is no dash or glitter about him, but he is marked by a steady nerve, and piercing glance that seems to be always on the alert. Many a second lieutenant has fallen a victim to the sharpshooter because of his fresh uniform, while officers of more experience have escaped under slouched hats and old blouses. There seems to be no limit, however, to the experience of some of them.

A cook of the 96th Ohio happened to be cooking beans the other day, when Gen. A. J. Smith, commanding a division of the 13th Army Corps, came around on camp inspection. After being properly saluted by the cook, the general began a colloquy as follows:

Gen. Smith.— What are you cooking?
The Cook. —Beans, sir.
General Smith. —How long do you cook beans?
The Cook. —Four hours, sir.
Gen. Smith (with a look of withering scorn).—Four hours! You cook 'em six hours!

That cook’s beans were tender enough that day.

"Once again the fire of hell
    Rained the rebel quarters,
With scream of shot and burst of shell,
    And bellowing of the mortars.”

SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 58-9

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: May 20, 1862

REASONING. 

Lying around here in the woods, hearing no sound but the moaning of the wind through the tree tops, is rather dull business. There is nothing in it that inspires any lofty, rapturous thought, and yet it inspires thought, and already one of Mr. Bogey’s sheep has fallen a victim to thoughts inspired by the soughing of the wind through this dark forest shutting out the day; I reckon it will not be necessary to say anything to Mr. Bogey about it, as he is a loyal man, and, as the lawyers say, the presumption is he would be more than glad to contribute a mutton in suppression of this unholy rebellion. 

THE PINE FORESTS.

The woods here abound in timber of the finest description, many of the trees attaining height of more than 100 feet. It is ... seldom one is seen of more than two feet in diameter at its base, tapering but slightly and without limbs for a distance of from 60 to 80 feet. I have seen some that would square fifteen inches, 80 feet from the stump. These are the turpentine trees, and the pitch, or turpentine as it is called, is obtained by cutting a wide, deep box at the base of the tree capable of holding two or three quarts of the pitch. From each corner of the box the bark is stripped off, coming to a point about three feet above the box. This is done when the tree is first boxed. The next year about three feet more of the bark is removed, coming to a point as before. This process goes on until the tree is blazed for a distance of 20 or more feet, and can be done on the east, south and west sides of the trees. The tree will run pitch quite a number of years before it dies, and is then called lightwood, and is either split up into rails or converted into tar. The pitch that runs into the boxes is dipped out into barrels, and is called dip or virgin turpentine, while that which adheres to the tree is scraped off and is called scrape, and is less valuable than the dip. The pitch is barreled up and sold to the distillers. Tar is obtained by cutting the lightwood into lengths of about eight feet and split fine; a tunnel-shaped hole is dug in the ground, with the center about three feet deep, and from the center a drain runs to a barrel or vat sunk low enough in the ground to receive the tar as it runs from the kiln. The wood is packed in this hole with the ends to the center, keeping the center lowest; when all the wood required for the kiln is piled up, the sides and top are plastered over with clay, and the fire kindled on top. The fire smouldering down through the pile, tries out the tar, which settling to the bottom, runs out into the vat, and is then barreled. A kiln will run from ten to twenty barrels according to size.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 59-60

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: May 28, 1862

THUNDER STORMS. 

It has rained almost constantly for the past week, and when it rains here in Dixie it is no drizzle, but comes down a perfect waterfall, sometimes for twelve hours together, accompanied with lightning and thunder of the grandest description. There is a grandeur in one of these storms at night, when in the woods among the tall pines, far away from the camp on picket, that no person can form much of an idea of unless they have been there to witness it. On such a night the solitude is awfully impressive, the picket stands concealed behind a tree in the drenching rain, solitary and alone, absorbed only in his own reflections and looking out for the lurking foe. The vivid lightning with almost continuous flashes illumines the grand old woods, while peal after peal of deafening thunder breaks, rolls and rumbles athwart the sky, sending back its echoes, as though an hundred batteries filled the air. Although there is a grandeur beyond description on such a night, there are very few of the boys, however, who care enough about witnessing it to be very anxious about going. But it has got to be done, and somebody has got it to do, so after the detail is made, they go off cheerfully, consoling themselves with the thought that they can have all the whiskey they want when they get back the next morning.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 60

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: June 1, 1862

 A CHANGE OF BASE.

And now something else has turned up, and here we are encamped just outside the city and behind our batteries. The order to move took us by surprise, as the first notice we had was to pick up our traps and be ready to march in half an hour. At the time appointed everything was packed and loaded on the wagons and we were on the march. Dark found us here with our tents up ready for housekeeping, and our coffee boiling for supper. All this and a march of twelve miles in one afternoon. Two companies, G and K, are left back for a few days, and are assisted by cavalry. All the advance regiments are drawn in behind the forts and the whole division, with the exception of three regiments, are now here. I have heard no reason why the division is concentrated, but perhaps the general expects company and intends to be in readiness to give them a right royal reception. Our line of defenses extends from the Neuse to the Trent rivers, a distance of about one mile, and on the line are three forts mounting in all 32 guns. There are also eleven light batteries of six guns each, with gunboats on the rivers that have an enfilading range in front of the line. With 10,000 troops behind the works, with a wide open field in front, it looks as though our position was a pretty safe one, and if anybody comes here with any hostile intent, hell will begin to fill up pretty soon after they get within the range of our guns. Our life up in the woods, on the whole was rather a pleasant one; I reckon the boys rather enjoyed it and were in no hurry about leaving. There was less restraint on them, they could do a little more as they pleased and were free from the drills, parades, red tape and formalities of the regular camp, with just enough excitement about it to keep them from getting dreary and homesick.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 60-1

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: June 6, 1862

CAMP OLIVER.

We are now in a neatly arranged camp on somewhat elevated ground at the west side of the city, and about a quarter of a mile to the rear of Fort Totten, a large field fortification mounting twenty heavy guns. A back street runs along the left flank, on which is situated the guard quarters, and a line of sentinels extends along it. This camp is named Camp Oliver, in honor of Gen. Oliver of Salem, Mass., formerly adjutant-general of  that state. We can now brush ourselves up and settle down to the dull routine of camp life—Drills, parades, reviews, inspections, guard duty, fatigue duty and all manner of things which come under the head of a well ordered camp. Our two companies left at Red house are drawn in about five miles, and are now at the Jackson place on the Trent road. That brings them within easy distance. They can be easily reinforced in case of attack or make their own way back to camp. The Red house is again in the enemy's country, but Mr. Bogey is not there; he thought he had rather live under the old flag and take his chances, and so moved with us into town.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 61

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: June 16, 1862

HOT WEATHER. 

It is so hot most of the time we are scarcely able to do anything more than keep ourselves as comfortable as possible. All duty is suspended except guard duty and dress parade, and we are getting almost too lazy to eat; in fact do miss a good many meals unless they happen to have something we like. We lie around in our tents or in the shade of the trees from 9 o'clock in the morning till 4 in the afternoon, brushing away the flies, and trying to keep cool. I thought I had seen some flies at home but they are no comparison to what we have here. I really believe there are more flies in this camp than there are in the whole state of Massachusetts. Besides they are regular secesh ones, and by the way they bite, one would think he was among a nest of hornets. I am often reminded of the old minstrel song: 

“If you perchance in summer time 

Should visit Carolina's sultry clime, 

And in the shade should chance to lie 

You'd soon find out the blue tail fly.” 

We were visited last evening by a thunder storm which makes it quite comfortable today. For several days past the weather has been very hot, the thermometer ranging about 100 degrees in the shade. Just before sunset last evening the clouds began to gather and we soon heard the low mutterings of thunder. We knew very well what that meant and set about fastening our tents by driving down the pins a little firmer. We got ready for it just in season, and such a storm! a regular bombardment, with rivers of water, lasting about two hours. Why our thunder storms at home are only a slight skirmish compared with this. After four or five days so hot we can but just live we get one of these storms, and then we have one cool, comfortable day. It is so cool today I expect the colonel will have us out for drill towards night. He says when it is cool we must work a little or we shall get so lazy we can’t stir, and will forget all we ever knew. 

DRESS PARADE. 

Next to a good choir of singers, the colonel takes great pride in a dress parade; and he certainly has good ones, as good, perhaps, as any regiment here. The boys like to please him and at dress parade put in their best work, especially if there happens to be a good many looking on. They have got so used to him, they can anticipate the order, and it is executed together as one man. I reckon Gen. Foster thinks pretty well of us, as he is out here two or three times a week to witness our dress parades. 

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 61-2

Captain Charles Wright Wills: December 1, 1864

Cushingville Station, east bank of Ogeechee river, 

December 1, 1864. 

Ten miles to-day. Had just finished the last line when (the officers are talking over the rumors of the day) I heard Captain Smith say, “Our folks captured one Rebel ram.” I asked him where, and he pointed out an old he sheep, one of the men had just brought in. Our regiment is the only part of our corps this side of the river. We are guarding the prisoners who are repairing the bridge. The Rebels had destroyed one section of it. The 17th Corps crossed near the railroad bridge, but are ten miles behind us to-night. This river is about 60 yards wide here, and we have sounded it in several places and found it from 12 to 15 feet deep. It has no abrupt banks here, but runs river, lake, swamp, to dry land. I find here again what I thought was palm-leaf fan material, on the Oconee river. It turns out to be swamp palmetto. The palmetto tree also grows near here. Twelve p.m.—Have been out with 25 men burning railroad. I did not do much of it, for it is the 17th Corps' work. Two of Howard's scouts came to us while we were at work. Said they had just left Millen, and left 150 Rebels there. Millen is four miles from here and is the junction of the Savannah and Augusta railroad. One of our men captured eight mules and two horses to-day. The trees along the river are covered with Spanish moss, like we saw so much of at Black River, Miss. The men shake their heads when they see it and say, “Here's your ager.” We are only guarding this bridge until the 17th Corps gets here. Our corps are going down the other side of the river. An immense number of “contrabands” now follow us, most of them able-bodied men, who intend going into the army. We have not heard a Rebel gun since the 22d of last month. They don't trouble our march a particle. 

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 329-30

Captain Charles Wright Wills: December 2, 1864

West bank of Ogeechee River, eight miles south of Millen, 

December 2, 1864. 

Recrossed the river this morning and, joining the brigade, made some eight miles to-day. We are ahead of the rest of the army or could have made more. Pine country, almost uninhabited. Saw to-day my favorite tree—the magnolia. Have seen but few of them in Georgia. In a swamp we passed through to-day a darkey pointed out to us some lemon trees. Saw in the same swamp some yellow pine. Nearly all the pine this side of the Oconee has been the “pitch” variety. 

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 330

Captain Charles Wright Wills: December 3, 1864

South bank of Scull Creek,

December 3, 1864. 

We have laid here all day, being our first rest since leaving Atlanta. Had to wait for the 17th Corps and “left wing” to catch up. We laid a pontoon across the river this morning, and two of our brigade went over to tear up railroad The 17th Corps came up and relieved them about 2 p. m. 

Colonel Catterson (our brigade commander) told me today that a dispatch from Bragg to — had been intercepted yesterday, that stated that he was moving on us from Savannah, with 10,000 infantry and Dick Taylor's Cavalry. See if he don't “come to grief.” Two of our divisions are moving 12 miles to our right—the 2d and 3d— the 4th is with us. 

Kilpatrick has gone for the Millen and Augusta railroad. If he hurts it much he'll do more than cavalry usually do. 

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 331

Captain Charles Wright Wills: December 4, 1864

December 4, 1864. 

Got on the road before day-light and made 16 miles easily by 3:30 p. m. Good road, many fine places, and excellent forage, from 75 to 500 bushels of sweet potatoes on a farm. Heard cannonading for two hours this morning. Think it must have been in the vicinity of the 20th Corps. Quite a variety of forest trees to-day among the pines, but all of a stunted growth. Saw a very curious cactus by the roadside. 

Almost all of the people from this section have sloped. I think I have not seen more than 12 white male citizens since we left Atlanta, at their homes. Am fully persuaded that Grant’s “cradle and grave” idea is correct. 

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 331

Captain Charles Wright Wills: December 5, 1864

Thirty-six miles from Savannah, 

December 5, 1864. 

Corse had the road to-day, but Wood side-tracked, took “catch roads” and got into camp, making 16 miles as soon as Corse. Rather poor country, farms small, and much pine. Negroes swarmed to us to-day. I saw one squad of 30 or 40 turned back. Sherman's order is not to let any more go with us than we can use and feed. A nice yellow girl came to our regiment about an hour after dark. She is the property of Milly Drake, who lives 30 miles back. The girl showed our men where Milly hid her horses and mules, in return for which, after the column passed, gentle Milly took half a rail and like to wore the wench out. Broke her arm and bruised her shamefully. That was all the reason that the girl had for running away. 

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 331-2