Civil War Notebook

Wednesday, August 18, 2021

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 28, 1864

Showers and sunshine.

Grant has crossed the Pamunky, and Lee is at the Yellow Tavern-not more than six miles from the city. The hostile armies are only a few miles apart, and the GREAT BATTLE may occur at any time, at any hour; and we shall hear both the artillery and musketry from my dwelling.

All is quiet on the south side of the river. Nothing from Georgia, except a short address from Gen. Johnston to the army, stating that, having the enemy now where he wants him, he will lead the soldiers to battle.

War and famine develop some of the worst instincts of our nature. For five days the government has been selling meal, by the peck, for $12: and yet those who have been purchasing have endeavored to keep it a secret! And the government turns extortioner, making $45 profit per bushel out of the necessities of the people!

I saw a dispatch, to-day, from Gen. Johnston to his Chief Commissary, at Atlanta, ordering him, after reserving ten days' rations, to send the rest of the stores to Augusta!

It is said Mr. Memminger and certain members of Congress have in readiness the means of sudden flight, in the event of Grant's forcing his way into the city.

It is thought, to-day, that Bragg will resign. If he does, then the President will be humiliated; for the attacks on Bragg are meant principally for Mr. Davis. But I doubt the story; I don't think the President will permit Bragg to retire before his enemies, unless affairs become desperate by the defeat of our army in this vicinity.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 221

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 29, 1864

Bright and quite cold.

There was skirmishing yesterday evening on the Chickahominy.

The armies are confronting each other, but Grant is moving gradually to the right of us, as if with an intention to reach the James River; but probably it is with the view of enveloping us with his superior numbers, and the GREAT BATTLE may occur at any hour. The train of cars, laden, in Broad Street, destined a few days ago to transport provisions, etc. to Gen. Lee's army, are visited hourly by wagons from the army, now in the immediate vicinity.

This morning the Secretary's time is occupied in giving audience to citizens who have fled from the vicinity of the enemy, but whose exaggerated accounts really furnish no reliable information. Of what benefit, in such a crisis as this, is the tale of desolation in the track of Grant's army, the destruction of crops, the robbery of children of their silver cups and spoons, etc.? And yet these are the things which occupy much time.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 221-2

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 30, 1864

Fair and cool; hot at noon.

It is rumored that Mr. Memminger will resign. If he does, it will cause much rejoicing. Mr. Foote censured him severely in Congress; and moved a resolution of censure, which was not laid on the table—though moved, and voted on—but postponed.

Gen. Lee has been a little ill from fatigue, exposure, and change of water; but was better yesterday, and is confident.

Messrs. Cardoza and Martin, who sell a peck of meal per day to each applicant for $12, or $48 per bushel, flour at $1.60 per pound, and beans $3 per quart, are daily beset with a great crowd, white and black. I do not think they sell for the government, but they probably have facilities from it. The prices are only about half charged in the shops.

But Messrs. Dunlop and Moucine are selling meal (on their own account, I believe) at $25 per bushel, or 50 cts. per pound, allowing each white member of the family about five ounces per day; and selling them twice per month, or nine pounds per month to each. The rule is to sell to only the indigent, refugees, etc. My friend James G. Brooks, Clay Street, informed me this morning that he got half a bushel there. He is rich!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 222

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 31, 1864

Clear, with hot sun.

Last evening there was some fighting on Lee's right, and 125 prisoners were sent in.

This morning cannon and musketry could be distinctly heard east of my dwelling; but at 3 P.M. I have not been able to learn the extent of it or the result.

But the GREAT BATTLE is imminent. Troops have been coming over from the south side (Beauregard's) for twenty hours, and marching down Main Street toward the Williamsburg road. It is doubtless a flank movement of Beauregard, and an attack on Grant may be expected any hour; and must occur, I think, tomorrow at furthest.

I have not learned that Butler has retired from his position and if not, our communications must be in peril. But no matter, so Grant be beaten.

All the local troops are ordered to be in readiness to march at a moment's warning, this evening or night.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 222-3

Tuesday, August 17, 2021

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, January 11, 1863

Sunday, 11th, dawns, and with it comes full rations.

The trains are now running from Memphis to Grand Junction, and thence to Jackson, and to Corinth. In this way we receive supplies, and how welcomely they are received by the hungry troops in and around Corinth. May the troops guarding the railroads be more vigilant in the future, and never more pull down the old flag and hoist the flag of truce!

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 128-9

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Monday, January 12, 1863

To-day supplies continue to arrive by the way of Grand Junction and Jackson; but no mail arrives. How anxious and lonely the soldiers are becoming here in this secluded part of the world, without any mail or any news from the north. But we have a good time for abstraction, and a good time for the study of human nature. Man cannot find a more extensive scope for its study than here in the camp and field. If man has faults he will show them; if he has virtues they will shine like the beauty and splendor of the noon-day sun; and those manly virtues that go to beautify the character of man, are seen shedding their light all around us. But we believe that here, more than in any other place, man can be persuaded of the truthfulness of the doctrine of human depravity; and at the same time can he be persuaded of the beauty of human redemption.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 129

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, January 13, 1863

This morning is beautiful and pleasant, much like a happy June morning in Illinois. In the evening we have brigade drill; the boys do not relish it much just now, not having had full rations long enough.

The garrison troops are now foraging on an extensive scale; parties are sent out daily, who rake the country of everything in the subsistence line. “Confiscation and extermination" is our motto. Anything to weaken this inhuman rebellion.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 129-30

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Wednesday, January 14, 1863

A cold drizzly rain has been falling all day. The sentry will have a dreary time to-night for the howling winds are piercing. It is now dark and the ground is all saturated with water (shivering winds, and chill whistlings.) Hollow coughs and long sighs are heard as the sentinels pace their lonely beats. Quiet tramping is now heard, and amid the dense darkness two comrades meet. We see where they stand by the falling of the sparks from their pipes. They are talking now about the news from Stone River, and the Rappahannock, and of the flow of blood that has made red their brewing waters. They stop—they are silent—but again the stillness is broken; says one, “John, I received by the last mail a letter from home, and they tell me that they trail the flag up there—that they shoot down the furloughed soldiers, and insult our wounded comrades, that our father's lives have been threatened because they have hearts that go out and take in the army and navy, because they have sons who wear the blue, fighting for the flag and union.” As these sentries turned on their way, we imagine that on that dreary path along where the winter winds kept sighing mournfully, tears fell, and their hearts were sad, because they knew that in the north, around their father's homes, where once they looked in the innocence of childhood, could be found so many who would smile to see the old flag go down and Liberty's cradle rock no more.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 130-1

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Thursday, January 15, 1863

This morning the lowering clouds shut out the sun's genial rays, as if to prolong the night. It is cold and stormy. It has ceased raining, and is now snowing. We shall receive no news—all is lonely. “A kingdom for a mail”—for one ray of light from the civilized world. Hark! the Locomotive is sending its signal, but its sound is soon lost in the shouts from the soldiers—alas! it brings no mail, but sad disappointment.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 131

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Friday, January 16, 1863

This morning the boys are seen wending their way to the timber to chop wood. It is very cold, and the boys are kept busy getting fuel. It snows all day, and except those detailed to get wood, the boys keep close around the camp fires, busily engaged at something. Some talking of home and friends, some about the armies, and others about the Emancipation Proclamation. Some are perusing old Waverlys, and others amusing themselves with Harper's cuts, one has a volume of Shakspeare with his mind following intently the dramatic play of Edward the "three times.” We are wondering now, how the leaders of northern democracy would feel could they hear the comments made, and the anathemas heaped upon their devoted heads by the soldiers, sitting around the winter camp-fires to-night in Mississippi. We are of the opinion that they would not consider themselves very much flattered.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 131

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Saturday, January 17, 1863

Still cold and blustery. No mail—no papers—no light. All dark, there is certainly something wrong.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 131

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, January 18, 1863

This morning we find the clouds have disappeared, and the sun is shining brightly on the carpet of snow that mantles the earth, but it is cold, and the soldiers are compelled to keep close around the camp fires. Such weather was never known in this climate, and the citizens say that it is caused by the Yankee's superhuman agency. This evening it is all mud—the snow did not tarry long. And yet the cry goes forth fromthe “P. O." "no mail—"no papers." Oh! cruel fates!

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 132

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, January 20, 1863

The troops still continue foraging, and in consequence the country has well nigh become impoverished, almost everything in the line of subsistence having been confiscated. But occasionally a hog, goose, or chicken ventures from some hiding place and falls a prey to the “inveterate Yankees." Good news! the P. M. informs us that the train has brought the mail. At last it is distributed, and how eagerly the soldiers peruse the little white sheets. Could our friends but know how much good a letter does a soldier, they would drift to him "like dew-drops from heaven”—that is, letters of cheering words. They make us better soldiers too. We get the blues sometimes, and feel like going to the dogs. Perhaps we are worn out with duty, are all wet and muddy and the wind changes right into our eyes; and then the coffee is bad; and the crackers are worse, and all this when we are as hungry as wolves. But the mail-boy comes, and hands us a letter—a good long letter from home, or some one else, we won't say who—we are not tired now; the fire has ceased smoking; the coffee is pronounced good; the old musty crackers are decidedly better, and everything glides on smoothly with us.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 132-3

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Wednesday, January 21, 1863

This morning all nature looks lovely. The silver-tinged landscape presents a scene of beauty. The soft south breezes are intoxicating. The mail comes regularly now, and with full supplies the soldiers are happy.