Showing posts with label Beef. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Beef. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 19, 2024

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, April 15, 1863

I have allowed a huge gap to occur in this Diary, for which I can offer a poor excuse. I have been sick with head-ache for about three weeks, until a few days ago, when it left me, and simultaneously with its departure disappeared also the feeling of lassitude with which I have been almost prostrated; but I again feel my usual flow of spirits and a desire to place on record the doings of the Forty-first. Since the bombardment of this place on the night of the 14th of March, our daily life has been somewhat interesting, compared with what it was before. The Yankee vessels remained below the point a week or ten days, occasionally throwing a shell into our midst, and finally disappeared entirely; but soon after our old acquaintance, the "Essex," hove in sight, evidently with the intention of paying us a protracted visit. During the last month, our regiment has been worked every day at the rate of two hundred and fifty men to the detail, and, when not on fatigue duty, we have drilled constantly. Our rations have improved greatly in quality, but not in quantity. We now draw bacon, meal, rice, sugar, molasses and peas, and fish are also very plentiful, but dear. For a while, after the poor Texas beef gave out, we drew spoilt pork, but it was preferable.

During the intervals between the appearance of the Yankee vessels, we have managed to pass off the time very well. The weather has been beautiful, and our minds have been kept about as busy as our hands, between hope and expectation—hope that we may get marching orders, while we have been anxiously expecting the re-appearance of the Yankee fleet. As yet no marching orders have come for us, but the gunboats have made their appearance above and below. The first intimation we had of their coming was from an order for the regiment to take position on the river bank, to act as sharpshooters during the engagement. The fleet above, after a stay of a few days, during which they sent up rockets and fired signal guns to the lower fleet, steamed up the river. After being gone over a week, they re-appeared a few days since. The situation now is: we are menaced above by three formidable vessels, while the fleet below is in plain view and very busy. The probability is that an attack may be made at any hour. We are ready for them.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 165-6

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, May 23, 1863

NEAR CANTON.—We have marched five miles this morning, and are now in two miles of Canton. Our force is now ten or twelve thousand strong, and looking for other reinforcements. The news from Vicksburg is that our men have repulsed the enemy, with a loss of 16,000 killed and wounded. I hope it may be true.

There is a report in camp that the enemy are approaching Canton from North Mississippi, and are now in fifteen miles of us. We are living very hard at present, drawing nothing but corn-meal and fresh beef without salt. We have been able to buy bacon from the citizens until an order from General Johnston put a stop to our going out of camps. I think we will get bacon this evening.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 170

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, October 23, 1862

Most of us, when we turned in last night, thought by the time we went on deck this morning, we would be far from land. We were mistaken. The steamer had only gone as far as the Roads, where she anchored.

About five o'clock this morning we made the final start for the war, unless Davy Jones shall have a mind to claim us. There are a few boats; but then there are, besides our regiment, about 500 of the 3d Mass. Vols., Col. Richmond, making about 1500 men in addition to the ship's crew. Sea voyages, as we are taking this one, are anything but pleasant. We know nothing of what is going on, and are very much crowded, in what would be good quarters for half the number. But the boys cannot appreciate this any more than they can to see the beef, which we are to eat, dragged across the deck, which, in the neighborhood of the horse stalls, is not very clean.

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 14

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, October 26, 1862

ARRIVAL AT NEW BERNE.

About nine this morning we saw our first of Rebeldom, and after taking a pilot, and passing several ugly-looking rips and bars, leaving Fort Macon on our left, we disembarked from the steamer to the wharf, which had a railroad depot on the farther end of it. The place is called Morehead City. But if this is a city, what can the towns and villages be? We stayed in this shed or depot awhile, and were then ordered on the train of open cars. Here we waited for two mortally long hours in a pelting rain, water on each side of us, water over us, and gradually, but persistently, water all through our clothes, and not a drop of anything inside of us.

Notwithstanding the rain storm was severe, we had considerable to interest us after we started, which was between two and three o'clock. There had been fighting along the line of road a year previous, and every few miles we passed picket-posts, occupied by Mass. regiments. We cheered them and they responded. Once, where we stopped to wood-up, we saw a settlement of negroes, and some of the boys bought or hooked their first sweet potatoes here. Others of us contented ourselves with trying to keep our pipes lighted, our tobacco dry, and the cinders out of our eyes. Most all of us came to the conclusion that North Carolina was a tough place, barren and desolate, and hardly worth the cost of fighting for it.

We arrived at New Berne about six o'clock, wet through, hungry, tired, and ready for our feather beds, but found our hotel for that night was not supplied with any such articles of furniture.

Our company, with some others, was quartered in a big barn of a building built of green boards, which had shrunk both side and end ways, and for beds we had the floor, with a few bundles of hay scattered around. We could not expect much of a supper, but we managed some way, and then turned in, wet as we were. Soon after, we were called up and informed that coffee and beef, with compliments, from the Mass. 24th Reg't, were awaiting. We accepted, with thanks, and made quite a supper. Then we turned in again,—some on bundles of hay, others on the floor. Those on the hay had a hard time of it, as the bundles were shorter than we were, and we had a tendency also to roll off. So after several ineffectual attempts, many gave it up and started from the building to find better quarters. Finally, we found some wood, made a rousing fire in an old sugar boiler, and stood around it in the rain, trying to keep warm, if not dry.

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 15

Friday, March 1, 2024

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, Sunday, September 7, 1862

PHILADELPHIA. We were too crowded in the cars to see much, or to do much, coming here. Most of us slept nearly all the way. I did for one, but I had dreams of being trod on, and no doubt I was, for there are some that never sleep, and are constantly on the move. We finally stopped and were ferried across a river and landed in this city.

We then marched to a large hall called "The Cooper Shop," why, I don't know. We were given a royal meal, breakfast I should call it, but it was so dark, and I was so sleepy I hardly knew whether it was supper or breakfast. Cold beef, sausage, bread and butter, cheese, and good hot coffee. It was far ahead of any meal we have had so far. I am told that the place is kept open night and day by some benevolent association, and that no regiment passes through without getting a good square meal. If soldiering is all like this I am glad I am a soldier. If the Rebs ever get as far North as Philadelphia, I hope the 128th New York may be here to help defend the "Cooper Shop." After breakfast we went out on the sidewalk and slept until after daylight. We soon after started for a railroad station, where we took a train for Baltimore. Our ride so far has been one grand picnic. We have lots of fun. No matter what our condition may be, there are some that see only the funny side, and we have enough of that sort to keep up the spirits of all. All along the way the people were out, and the most of them gave us cheers, but not all, as was the case in Hudson. We are nearing the enemy's country. The change in sentiment begins to show, and the farther we go, I suppose, the less cheering we will hear, until finally we will get where the cheers will all be for the other fellow, and we will find ourselves among foes instead of friends.

Later. We are stuck on an up-grade. The engine has gone ahead with a part of the train, and we are waiting for it to come back. The train men say we are about forty miles from Baltimore. That means forty miles from our fodder, and I for one am hungry now. That meal at the Cooper Shop was good, but not lasting enough for this trip. The boys are out on the ground having some fun and I am going to join them.

BALTIMORE, MD. We are here at last. Marched about two miles from where the cars stopped, and are sitting on the sidewalk waiting to see what will happen next. I hope it will be something to eat, for I am about famished. Some of the men are about played-out. The excitement and the new life are getting in their work. The day has been very hot, too, and with nothing to eat since some time last night, it is not strange we begin to wonder where the next meal is coming from, and when it will come. Baltimore is not like New York. I know that much now, but I don't know enough about either city to tell what the difference is. A regiment, fully armed, escorted us here from the cars, and are either staying around to keep us from eating up the city, or to keep the city from eating us, I don't know which. Some act friendly, but the most of the people look as if they had no use for us. Later. We have finally had something to eat. My folks always taught me never to find fault with the victuals set before me, so I won't begin now. But for that I should say something right now. But whatever it was it had a bracing effect and we soon started and marched through the city to high ground, which I am told is "Stewart's Hill."

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 18-20

Monday, February 26, 2024

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 26, 1865

Clear and cold.

No further news from the iron-clad fleet that went down the river.

Beef is selling at $8 per pound this morning; wood at $150 per cord. Major Maynard, instead of bringing 120, gets in but 30 or 40 cords per day. I am out of wood, and must do my little cooking in the parlor with the coal in the grate. This is famine!

Congress passed a bill a few days ago increasing the number of midshipmen, and allowing themselves to appoint a large proportion of them. Yesterday the President vetoed the bill, he alone, by the Constitution, being authorized to make all appointments. But the Senate immediately repassed it over the veto—only three votes in the negative. Thus the war progresses! And Mr. Hunter was one of the three.

The President, in reply to a committee of the State Legislature, says Gen. Lee has always refused to accept the command of all the armies unless he could relinquish the immediate command of the Army of Northern Virginia defending the capital; and that he is and ever has been willing to bestow larger powers on Gen. Lee; but he would not accept them.

This makes me doubt whether the President has signed the bill creating a commander-in-chief.

It is said again, that Commissary-General Northrop has resigned. Doubtful.

Still, there are no beggars in the streets, except a few women of foreign or Northern birth. What a people! If our affairs were managed properly, subjugation would be utterly impossible. But all the statesmen of the years preceding the war have been, somehow, "ruled out" of positions, and wield no influence, unless it be a vengeful one in private. Where are the patriots of the decade between 1850 and 1860? "Echo answers where?" Who is responsible for their absence? A fearful responsibility! Gold is quoted at $35 for $1-illusory! Perhaps worse. The statistics furnished by my son Custis of the military strength of the Confederate States, and ordered by the President to be preserved on file in the department, seems to have attracted the attention of Mr. Assistant Secretary Campbell, and elicited a long indorsement, saying a calculation of the number of casualties of war was not made all this after the paper was sent in by the President. But the estimate was made, and included in the reduction from the 800,000, leaving 600,000. Judge C. thinks 200,000 have been killed, 50,000 permanently disabled, and 55,000 are prisoners; still 500,000 availables would be left.

Custis has drafted, and will send to the President, a bill establishing a Corps of Honor, with a view to excite emulation and to popularize the service, now sadly needed.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 398-400

Monday, February 12, 2024

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, August 19, 1862

HUDSON CAMP GROUNDS. I have enlisted! Joined the Army of Uncle Sam for three years, or the war, whichever may end first. Thirteen dollars per month, board, clothes and travelling expenses thrown in. That's on the part of my Uncle. For my part, I am to do, I hardly know what, but in a general way understand I am to kill or capture such part of the Rebel Army as comes in my way.

I wonder what sort of a soldier I will make; to be honest about it, I don't feel much of that eagerness for the fray I am hearing so much of about me.

It seems to me it is a serious sort of business I have engaged in. I was a long time making up my mind about it. This one could go, and that one, and they ought to, but with me, some way it was different. There was so much I had planned to do, and to be. I was needed at home, etc., etc. So I would settle the question for a time, only to have it come up to be reasoned away again, and each time my reasons for not taking my part in the job seemed less reasonable. Finally I did the only thing I could respect myself for doing, went to Millerton, the nearest recruiting station, and enlisted.

I then threw down my unfinished castles, went around and bid my friends good-bye, and had a general settling up of my affairs, which, by the way, took but little time. But I never before knew I had so many friends. Everyone seemed to be my friend. A few spoke encouragingly, but the most of them spoke and acted about as I would expect them to, if I were on my way to the gallows. Pity was so plainly shown that when I had gone the rounds, and reached home again, I felt as if I had been attending my own funeral. Poor old father and mother! They had expected it, but now that it had come they felt it, and though they tried hard, they could not hide from me that they felt it might be the last they would see of their baby.

Then came the leaving it all behind. I cannot describe that. The good-byes and the good wishes ring in my ears yet. I am not myself. I am some other person. My surroundings are new, the sights and sounds about me are new, my aims and ambitions are new;—that is if I have any. I seem to have reached the end. I can look backwards, but when I try to look ahead it is all a blank. Right here let me say, God bless the man who wrote "Robert Dawson," and God bless the man who gave me the book. "Only a few drops at a time, Robert." The days are made of minutes, and I am only sure of the one I am now living in. Take good care of that and cross no bridges until you come to them.

I have promised to keep a diary, and I am doing it. I have also promised that it should be a truthful account of what I saw and what I did. I have crawled off by myself and have been scribbling away for some time, and upon reading what I have written I find it reads as if I was the only one. But I am not. There are hundreds and perhaps thousands here, and I suppose all could, if they cared to, write just such an experience as I have. But no one else seems foolish enough to do it. I will let this stand as a preface to my diary, and go on to say that we, the first installment of recruits from our neighborhood, gathered at Amenia, where we had a farewell dinner, and a final handshake, after which we boarded the train and were soon at Ghent, where we changed from the Harlem to the Hudson & Berkshire R. R., which landed us opposite the gates of the Hudson Fair Grounds, about 4 P. M. on the 14th. We were made to form in line and were then marched inside, where we found a lot of rough board shanties, such as are usually seen on country fair grounds, and which are now used as offices, and are full of bustle and confusion. After a wash-up, we were taken to a building which proved to be a kitchen and dining room combined. Long pine tables, with benches on each side, filled the greater part of it, and at these we took seats and were served with good bread and fair coffee, our first meal at Uncle Sam's table, and at his expense. After supper we scattered, and the Amenia crowd brought up at the Miller House in Hudson. We took in some of the sights of the city and then put up for the night.

The next morning we had breakfast and then reported at the camp grounds ready for the next move, whatever that might be. We found crowds of people there, men, women and children, which were fathers and mothers, wives and sweethearts, brothers and sisters of the men who have enlisted from all over Dutchess and Columbia counties. Squads of men were marching on the race track, trying to keep step with an officer who kept calling out "Left, Left, Left," as his left foot hit the ground, from which I judged he meant everyone else should put his left foot down with his. We found these men had gone a step further than we. They had been examined and accepted, but just what that meant none of us exactly knew. We soon found out, however, Every few minutes a chap came out from a certain building and read from a book, in a loud voice, the names of two men. These would follow him in, be gone a little while and come out, when the same performance would be repeated. My name and that of Peter Carlo, of Poughkeepsie, were called together, and in we went. We found ourselves in a large room with the medical examiner and his clerks. His salutation, as we entered, consisted of the single word, "Strip." We stripped and were examined just as a horseman examines a horse he is buying. He looked at our teeth and felt all over us for any evidence of unsoundness there might be. Then we were put through a sort of gymnastic performance, and told to put on our clothes. We were then weighed and measured, the color of our eyes and hair noted, also our complexion, after which another man came and made us swear to a lot of things, most of which I have forgotten already. But as it was nothing more than I expected to do without swearing I suppose it makes no difference.

The rest of the day we visited around, getting acquainted and meeting many I had long been acquainted with. In the afternoon the camp ground was full of people, and as night began to come, and they began to go, the good-byes were many and sad enough. I am glad my folks know enough to stay away. That was our first night in camp. After we came from the medical man, we were no longer citizens, but just soldiers. We could not go down town as we did the night before. This was Saturday night, August 17th. We slept but little, at least I did not. A dozen of us had a small room, a box stall, in one of the stables, just big enough to lie down in. The floor looked like pine, but it was hard, and I shall never again call pine a soft wood, at least to lie on. If one did fall asleep he was promptly awakened by some one who had not, and by passing this around, such a racket was kept up that sleep was out of the question. I for one was glad the drummer made a mistake and routed us out at five o'clock instead of six, as his orders were. We shivered around until roll-call and then had breakfast. We visited together until dinner. Beef and potatoes, bread and coffee, and plenty of it. Some find fault and some say nothing, but I notice that each gets away with all that's set before him. In the afternoon we had preaching out of doors, for no building on the grounds would hold us. A Rev. Mr. Parker preached, a good straight talk, no big words or bluster, but a plain man-to-man talk on a subject that should concern us now, if it never did before. I for one made some mighty good resolutions, then and there. Every regiment has a chaplain, I am told, and I wish ours could be this same Mr. Parker. The meeting had a quieting effect on all hands. There was less swearing and less noise and confusion that afternoon than at any time before. After supper the question of bettering our sleeping accommodations came up, and in spite of the good resolutions above recorded I helped steal some hay to sleep on. We made up our minds that if our judge was as sore as we were he would not be hard on us. We spread the hay evenly over the floor and lay snug and warm, sleeping sound until Monday morning, the 18th.

The mill of the medical man kept on grinding and batches of men were sworn in every little while. Guards were placed at the gates, to keep us from going down town. I was one of the guards, but was called off to sign a paper and did not go back. Towards night we had to mount guard over our hay. Talk about "honor among thieves," what was not stolen before we found it out, was taken from under us while we were asleep, and after twisting and turning on the bare floor until my aching bones woke me, I got up and helped the others express themselves, for there was need of all the cuss words we could muster to do the subject justice. But that was our last night in those quarters.

The next day the new barracks were finished and we took possession. They are long narrow buildings, about 100 feet by 16, with three tiers of bunks on each side, leaving an alley through the middle, and open at each end. The bunks are long enough for a tall man and wide enough for two men provided they lie straight, with a board in front to keep the front man from rolling out of bed. There are three buildings finished, and each accommodates 204 men. We were not allowed either hay or straw for fear of fire. As we only had our bodies to move, it did not take long to move in. Those from one neighborhood chose bunks near together, and there was little quarrelling over choice. In fact one is just like another in all except location. Walter Loucks and I got a top berth at one end, so we have no trouble in finding it, as some do who are located near the middle. These barracks, as they are here called, are built close together, and ordinary conversation in one can be plainly heard in the others. Such a night as we had, story-telling, song-singing, telling what we would do if the Rebs attacked us in the night, with now and then a quarrel thrown in, kept us all awake until long after midnight. There was no getting lonesome, or homesick. No matter what direction one's thought might take, they were bound to be changed in a little while, and so the time went on. Perhaps some one would start a hymn and others would join in, and just as everything was going nicely, a block of wood, of which there were plenty lying around, would come from no one knew where, and perhaps hit a man who was half asleep. Then the psalm singing would end up in something quite different, and for awhile one could almost taste brimstone. I heard more original sayings that night than in all my life before, and only that the boards were so hard, and my bones ached so badly, I would have enjoyed every minute of it.

But we survived the night, and were able to eat everything set before us, when morning and breakfast time came. After breakfast we had our first lesson in soldiering, that is, the men of what will be Captain Bostwick's company, if he succeeds in filling it, and getting his commission, did. A West Point man put us through our paces. We formed in line on the race track, and after several false starts got going, bringing our left feet down as our instructor called out, "Left, Left," etc. A shower in the night had left some puddles on the track, and the first one we came to some went around and some jumped across, breaking the time and step and mixing up things generally. We were halted, and as soon as the captain could speak without laughing, he told us what a ridiculous thing it was for soldiers to dodge at a mud puddle. After a turn at marching, or keeping step with each other, he explained very carefully to us the "position of a soldier," telling how necessary it was that we learn the lesson well, for it would be of great use to us hereafter. He repeated it, until every word had time to sink in. "Heels on the same line, and as near together as the conformation of the man will permit. Knees straight, without stiffness. Body erect on the hips, and inclining a little forward. Arms hanging naturally at the sides, the little finger behind the seam of the pantaloons. Shoulders square to the front. Head erect, with the eyes striking the ground at the distance of fifteen paces." Every bone in my body ached after a little of this, and yet our instructor told us this is the position in which a well-drilled soldier can stand for the longest time and with the greatest ease. This brings my diary up to this date and I must not let it get behind again. There is so much to write about, it takes all my spare time; but now I am caught up, I will try and keep so.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 1-7

Saturday, February 3, 2024

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 13, 1865

Clear and pleasant—but little frost. Beef (what little there is in market) sells to-day at $6 per pound; meal, $80 per bushel; white beans, $5 per quart, or $160 per bushel. And yet Congress is fiddling over stupid abstractions!

The government will awake speedily, however; and after Congress hurries through its business (when roused), the adjournment of that body will speedily ensue. But will the President dismiss his cabinet in time to save Richmond, Virginia, and the cause? That is the question. He can easily manage Congress, by a few letters from Gen. Lee. But will the potency of his cabinet feed Lee's army?

A great panic still prevails in the city, arising from rumors of contemplated evacuation. If it should be evacuated, the greater portion of the inhabitants will remain, besides many of the employees of government and others liable to military service, unless they be forced away. But how can they be fed? The government cannot feed, sufficiently, the men already in the field.

Everybody is conjecturing what Mr. Blair has proposed; but no one expects relief from his mission, if indeed he be clothed with diplomatic powers-which I doubt.

The President, I believe, is calm, relying upon the loyalty of his cabinet. But he is aware of the crisis; and I think his great reliance is on Gen. Lee, and herein he agrees with the people. What will be the issue of the present exigency, God only knows!

I believe there is a project on foot to borrow flour, etc. from citizens for Gen. Lee's army. Many officers and men from the army are in the city to-day, confirming the reports of suffering for food in the field.

There is a rumor that Goldsborough has been taken.

Mr. Secretary Seddon is appointing men in the various districts of the city to hunt up speculators and flour; appointing such men as W. H. McFarland and others, who aspire to office by the suffrages of the people. They will not offend the speculators and hoarders by taking much flour from them. No-domiciliary visits with bayonets alone will suffice.

Of thirty Federal deserters sent to work on the fortifications of Lynchburg, all but four ran away.

It is understood that the President announced to Congress today the arrest of the Hon. H. S. Foote, member of that body, near Fredericksburg, while attempting to pass into the enemy's lines. This, then, may have been Capt. Norton's secret mission; and I believe the government had traps set for him at other places of egress. Meantime the enemy came in at Savannah. This is considered the President's foible—a triumph over a political or personal enemy will occupy his attention and afford more delight than an ordinary victory over the common enemy. Most men will say Mr. Foote should have been permitted to go—if he desired it.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 384-5

Tuesday, October 31, 2023

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 7, 1865

Rained yesterday and last night. Clear and windy to-day.

It is said the Blairs (who have been looked for on some sort of mission) turned back after arriving in the camp of Gen. Grant. Of course they could not treat with this government, under existing circumstances. The President and his cabinet could not be expected to listen to such proposals as they might be authorized to tender.

Butler's canal is said to be completed, and probably operations will soon be recommenced in this vicinity.

Congress seems to be doing little or nothing; but before it adjourns it is supposed it will, as usual, pass the measures dictated by the President. How insignificant a legislative body becomes when it is not independent. The Confederate States Congress will not live in history, for it never really existed at all, but has always been merely a body of subservient men, registering the decrees of the Executive. Even Mr. Miles, of South Carolina, before introducing a bill, sends it to this department for approval or rejection.

Detailed soldiers here are restricted in their rations this month to 31 pounds of meal, 21 pounds of salt beef, etc. The commissary agent, Mr. Wilson, thinks no more "beef shanks" can be sold. I have been living on them!

An order has been issued that all detailed men in the bureaus (able-bodied) must go into Gen. Lee's army; and the local defense troops will not be called out again except in the last necessity, and then only during the emergency. I have not seen it, but believe Gen. Lee has some such understanding with the President.

Mayor Arnold, and other rich citizens of Savannah, have held a meeting (Union), and called upon Gov. Brown to assemble a State Convention, etc.

Mr. Hunter followed Judge Campbell into his office this morning (a second visit), as if there were any more news. The judge gravely beckoned him into the office. I was out; so there must be news, when Mr. H. (so fat) is on the qui vive.

Gen. Beauregard has been ordered to the West to take command of Hood's army.

The Secretary of War has ordered Col. Bayne to have as much cotton as possible east of Branchville, S. C.

The farmers down the river report that Grant is sending off large bodies of troops—so the Secretary says in a letter to Gen. Lee.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 379-80

Wednesday, October 25, 2023

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, January 16, 1863

After a very cold night spent in sleeplessness, I arose, determined to have something better to eat than our daily ration of coarse meal and poor beef, supplemented occasionally with a little sugar and molasses. I procured a permit from Captain Feeney, which was duly approved by Colonel Tillman, but could not pass the pickets on it: had to return a short distance and go around them, which was no easy job, considering the topography of the country. After cooning logs over the same crooked little stream some half dozen times, we (Arch Conaway and myself) found ourselves in a dense canebrake, and then in the midst of an impassable swamp. Being lost, we struck out straight ahead, and finally came to a farm-house; asked if we could purchase any potatoes, pork, or butter, and were told "nary tater;" pushed on to the second house, and the same question asked, and the same answer returned; ditto at the third house and the fourth started on return; found an aged colored individual, who agreed to steal us a small hog at night for the small consideration of ten dollars and a half. No help for it. Must have a change of diet. [A story is told of a soldier in this regiment, when at Port Hudson, which is appropriate in this connection. He, like our author, needed a "change of diet," and slipped into a farmer's hog-pen one night to get it. He saw, what appeared to him, a fine large porker, lying fast asleep, and with practiced skill approached and knocked it in the head with his axe. On attempting to turn it over he found his game had been dead three or four days.]

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 20-1

Saturday, September 30, 2023

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Saturday, June 22, 1861

Arrival at the National Capital. By daylight the cupola of the Capitol greeted our eyes, a reviving sight after three sleepless nights. Col. Ambrose E. Burnside and Capt. Chas. H. Tompkins had a breakfast prepared for us, consisting of roast beef, soft bread and coffee. After unloading battery, we marched towards Camp Sprague, and established our quarters on the left of those of the First R. I. infantry regiment and battery. Our camp was named "Camp Clark," in honor of the celebrated Bishop Clark, of Rhode Island, the model of a Christian minister and true patriot.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 7-8

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Friday, July 19, 1861

Camp near Centreville. The troops remained quiet all day. Fresh beef as rations.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 11

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, January 5, 1863

Yesterday being Sunday, and no enemy appearing, we had a day of comparative rest. In the morning we were marched into town for fear the Yankees might return and attempt to land under cover of their gunboats, but five minutes after our arrival we were about-faced and moved back to camps. The day was spent in drying clothes, cleaning guns, and setting tents. The cooking is an easy job with us here, as our ration consists only of musty meal and poor, tough beef. I obtained permission this morning to go to town, and while there learned that the regiment was coming in to take a boat for Port Hudson. I write this entry on the top of the wheel-house of the "Charm," waiting for her to start.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 18

Sunday, March 26, 2023

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 30, 1864

Bright and beautiful.

Some firing was heard early this morning on the Darbytown road, or in that direction; but it soon ceased, and no fighting of moment is anticipated to-day, for Gen. Longstreet is in the city.

My son Thomas drew a month's rations yesterday, being detailed for clerical service with Gen. Kemper. He got 35 pounds of flour (market value $70), 31 pounds of beef ($100.75), 3 pounds of rice ($6), one sixth of a cord of wood ($13.33), salt ($2), tobacco ($5), vinegar ($3)—making $200 per month; clothing furnished by government, $500 per annum; cash, $18 per month; $4 per day extra, and $40 per month for quarters; or $5000 per annum.

Custis and I get $4000 each-making in all $13,000! Yet we cannot subsist and clothe the family; for, alas, the paper money is $30 for one in specie!

The steamers have brought into Wilmington immense amounts of quartermaster stores, and perhaps our armies are the best clad in the world. If the spirit of speculation be laid, and all the men and resources of the country be devoted to defense (as seems now to be the intention), the United States could never find men and material sufficient for our subjugation. We could maintain the war for an indefinite period, unless, indeed, fatal dissensions should spring up among ourselves.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 318-9

Monday, March 20, 2023

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, [March 15, 1863]—Evening

Evening.

About six, the Burnside came down the river with horses, hogs, chickens and prisoners. They took Col. Bryant, just as he returned to his plantation after running his negroes into the back country. They report great quantities of cotton and cattle up the river, so I hope we really are to have fresh beef again.

It is nothing like as damp and unwholesome here as in South Carolina. The same amount of exposure there that our men have had here, would have given the hospital twenty or thirty cases of pleurisy and pneumonia, while today, we have but a single case of acute inflammation. There is coughing enough to keep back several rebel regiments. I see no reason, however, why the officers should not get intermittent fever from this handsome river, by and by. It looks as if midsummer might load it with miasma and alligators. . . .

I am gradually confiscating furniture for my spacious chamber in the best house of a beautiful town, as if it were my final residence. I enjoy the long cedar closet that opens out of my room. The fragrance is so sweet I cannot understand why moths object to it. having a perfect bath room, without any water in it and costly gas fixtures without any gas! The war has greatly deranged the machinery of this town. Almost everywhere, except in this house, I have found the lead pipes cut by the rebels and used, I suppose, for bullets. When Colonel Sanderson left here he placed his house in charge of a Union man, saying that it would naturally be the headquarters of any Union commander. Hence the more perfect preservation of the property.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 375-6

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, July 17, 1863

Near Bunker Hill, Jefferson County, Va.,        
July 17, 1863.

You will see by this letter that we have gotten back into “Old Virginia" again. It seems that our invasion of the North did not prove successful. We fought a dreadful battle at Gettysburg, Pa. It was the greatest battle of the war. We drove the Yankees three miles from the battlefield to a long range of high hills, from which it was impossible to dislodge them. General Lee had to fall back to keep them from getting the advantage. My brother was not hurt in the battle. Milton Bossard, Captain Cromer, Buford Wallace, Mr. Daniel's two sons and many others from Newberry were killed; but it is better for us all to be killed than conquered.

We have had some very disagreeable marching, as it has rained so much, but I have gotten hold of an old horse, which helps me along very much.

We have plenty of beef and bread to eat. We gathered up thousands of beeves in Pennsylvania-enough to feed our army until cold weather. This is a great consideration.

My servant got lost in Maryland. I do not think it was his intention to leave, but he was negligent about keeping up and got in rear of the army and found it too late to cross the river.

One of your letters came to me in Pennsylvania, and three since we left there.

We hear that Vicksburg has fallen. That is unfortunate, but I do not feel at all discouraged. Countries have been overrun, and then not conquered.

When we get settled down in camp again I will try to write you a longer and better arranged letter. We don't know what minute we may move, and under such circumstances I never can write with any satisfaction. I have George's picture yet. It is a wonder I did not lose it.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 59-60

Saturday, February 18, 2023

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, November 13, 1862

Berryville, Clark County, Va.,        
November 13, 1862.

Our brigade is now camped in the suburbs of Berryville and is doing picket duty; however, in three days more another brigade will relieve us. The rest of the division is within five miles of Winchester. There seems to be no prospect of a fight at this time, although our men continue to take prisoners occasionally. The largest number brought in at one time was 104.

The weather is still quite cold, but the health of the brigade remains good. But few men reported sick this morning. We still hear of a case of smallpox occasionally, but the army is well vaccinated and I am satisfied that we are all immune. We have plenty to eat. For breakfast this morning we had biscuit (and they were shortened too), fried bacon and fried cabbage. For dinner we had boiled beef and dumplings, with biscuit and boiled eggs. Dr. Kilgore and I dined in Berryville yesterday with a Dr. Counsellor. The dinner was fine and the table was graced by his charming wife.

I still have about thirty dollars, but our quartermaster has gone to Richmond to get several months' pay for us. Please send my suit to me, for I wish to give the one I am now wearing to my servant, Wilson. He also needs a pair of shoes. In your last letter you ask if I have the night-cap which your aunt made for me. I lost it one morning before day, when preparing for battle. Take good care of George.

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 35-6

Sunday, December 25, 2022

Brigadier-General Felix K. Zollicoffer to Samuel Cooper, November 27, 1861

BRIGADE HEADQUARTERS,        
Thirteen miles west of Monticello, November 27, 1861.
General S. COOPER,
        Adjutant and Inspector-General, Richmond, Va.:

SIR: Two regiments cross the river to-day at Mill Springs to endeavor to cut off 800 of the enemy at Waitsborough, 9 miles above. A mail from Columbia to Monticello has been captured, by which we learn that there are two battalions of cavalry and two regiments of infantry at Columbia. They had heard of my advance and heard my force was 9,000. This they doubt, but think if it is true they will have to retreat for want of numbers. I learn that General Thomas is at Crab Orchard, but have no reliable intelligence of forces other than those at Columbia and Waitsborough. I have sent detachments of cavalry to examine the ferries at Burkesville and Creelsborough, 17 miles above Burkesville; also to get more particular information of the ferries and roads crossing at Dorothea Landing and Horse Shoe Bottom. It is now certain there is no enemy this side of the Cumberland. We have here an abundance of beef, pork, and corn, at low prices. The better classes of citizens sympathize with us.

Very respectfully,
F. K. ZOLLICOFFER,    
Brigadier-General.
[Similar report to Lieutenant-Colonel Mackall.]

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 7 (Serial No. 7), p. 706-7

Tuesday, August 23, 2022

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Saturday, October 26, 1861

Several detachments were sent out over the country after beef cattle. Some sixty beeves were brought in during the day.

The battalion moved some three miles nearer Camp Buckner.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 67

Saturday, July 30, 2022

William T. Sherman to Ellen Ewing Sherman, November 3, 1860

ALEXANDRIA, Nov. 3, 1860.

. . . This is a Saturday evening and I am seated at the office table where the Academic Board has been all week examining cadets. We have admitted in all some eighty; and rejected about a dozen for want of the elementary knowledge required for admission. Tonight, Saturday, we close the business, and on Monday recitations begin. Still many more will straggle in, and I expect we will settle down to about a hundred and twenty, less than we had reason to expect, but quite enough for comfort. . .

People here now talk as though disunion was a fixed thing. Men of property say that as this constant feeling of danger of abolitionism exists they would rather try a Southern Confederacy. Louisiana would not secede, but should South Carolina secede I fear other Southern States will follow, and soon general anarchy will prevail. I say but little, try and mind my own business and await the issue of events. . .

The country is very poor and nothing can be bought here but stewed beef and pork, vegetables are out of the question save potatoes at about five dollars the barrel.

SOURCE: Walter L. Fleming, General W.T. Sherman as College President, p. 301-2