Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 30, 1861

It is now between two and three months since our regiment went into camp. We have had nearly three hundred cases of measles, with about as many of diarrhoea, dysentery and fever. Not one quarter of the regiment but has been sick in some way, and yet last night every man who left home with the regiment slept in camp-not one death by sickness or accident, none left behind, not one lost by desertion! May we not challenge the armies of the world for a parallel? We are sleeping on our arms every night, in anticipation of an attack on Washington, and it seems to be the general belief that we shall be attacked here. I am no military man, and my opinion here is of no account to the world, but to me, for whose especial benefit it is written, it is worth as much as would be the opinion of a Napoleon. That opinion is, that we shall have no fight here—that the enemy is out-generaling us by feints to induce us to concentrate our forces here, whilst he makes a strike and overpowers us elsewhere.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 19-20

Diary of Musician David Lane, December 29, 1862

December 29th, 1862.

As I was sitting by my cosy fire last evening—for we have evenings here, long, dreary ones—thinking of past events and trying, with my weak vision, to pierce the dark future, the thought occurred to me where is all the trust and confidence with which I started out, and which cheered and sustained me until our late defeat? Have we made no advance? Surely we have made blunders, but will we not profit by them? We are learning the art of war—time is required to change a citizen into a soldier. Our officers are being weighed the light weights cast aside or relegated to their class—and the good work will go on until one is found of size and weight to cope with Lee. 'Tis said, "Great generals are born, not made;" that true greatness is also modest, and does not vaunt itself; but our President is on the lookout for him and will find him—never fear—one who has the genius to plan, the will to do, the nerve to dare. As I pondered, hope returned and all my gloomy forebodings fled away.

As I was about to retire for the night, our door was thrown open and some letters were handed in. Among them was one for me. I recognized the well-known hand—tore open the envelope, and, after perusing the welcome contents over and over again, I went to bed and dreamed of home.

Inexpressibly dear, to the soldier, are letters from home. It is interesting to stand by as the mail is being distributed, and, as the names are called, witness the animated, joyful expression that illuminates the countenance of the happy recipients, while those less favored retire to their tents disappointed and sad.

Captain Goldsmith has returned, but will not stay long, as he has sent in his resignation. The regiment is hard at work building winter quarters. Our houses are all built after the same pattern-eight feet by ten in size, five feet high-rafters one-fourth pitch, covered with tent cloth. The different companies are separated by streets one rod wide. The men do not work with very good heart, as they expect orders to leave as soon as finished. They say this has been their experience in the past.

Contrary to expectations, the health of the men does not improve with frosty nights. Diarrhea, colds and rheumatism prevail, with now and then a case of fever.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 24-5

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, July 31, 1861

On the 19th of June, 1861, the 5th Regiment of Wisconsin Vols., being partially organized, went into camp at Madison, Wis. Here it remained for a time, perfecting its organization, drilling and preparing itself for the hardships, the dangers, and the responsibilities to be encountered in the battle-field, against a people warlike and chivalric; a people who are taught to regard physical courage, and recklessness of physical danger, as the noblest qualities of the human race, and a people whose chief pride was to win in fight, whether with individuals or in masses; but a people, who, having entrusted their politics to professed politicians, were misled to believe that, by their brothers of the Northern States of this Union, their rights of property were invaded, and their homes were coveted as a prize for distribution amongst the overgrown population of the North. But to enter into a discussion of the merits of this rebellion, now devastating the most beautiful country known to man, carrying in its march a passover of beggary, of destitution, and of death, is not in accordance with the object of this little book. It is therefore passed over, that the reader may at once be permitted to enter into a detail of the subjects indicated in our preface.

From the time of the commencement of the rebellion, by actual war on Fort Sumter, in April of this year, its settlement by rapid and decisive victories over the rebels was subject of merriment, and looked on as matter of course. We were going to war with a people of not half our numbers, without money, without munitions of war, without navy, without anything in fine of those elements which go to make up the ensemble of a people powerful in war, and we were entering into the strife as a short interlude to the hum-drum vocations of life. "How could a people thus situated hope to compete with the parent Government, rich in every element which makes a great people?" This was the reasoning. In vain were our people told of the character of the Southerners. In vain were they referred to the results of our own rebellion and successful revolutionary war with England. "Oh!" was the reply, "Steamships were not known in those days, and England had to cross the ocean to fight us." "But Hungary, with its population of only 3,000,000, and without revenue, withstood the whole power of Austria, till the hordes of Russia had to be called in to aid in their subjugation." "But Austria had become a superannuated and feeble people." No reasoning would answer. The subjugation of the revolted States was to be a pastime, and could be nothing but a pastime. Thus went on matters, drilling as an amusement, preparatory to the enjoyment of a war, all the results of which were to be on our side, and obtained without sacrifice or suffering.

*          *          *          *          *          *

On the afternoon of the 21st July, 1861, the electric wires brought us the intelligence from Bull Run that our army was whipped, was routed, was scattered in flight. The heart of the whole North received a shock of sadness and of disappointment. Soldiers in camp began to realize that war meant work and danger, and the Regiment of which I was a member at once received orders to be in readiness to march at the earliest possible moment, to hurry to the aid of its companions

in arms. It was in sad plight for the exposures of camp life. ’Twas in the heat of summer, when fevers and diarrhoea prevail in their worst forms. The measles had broken out in camp, and one-third of the soldiers were suffering from disease of some kind. Nevertheless, active preparation went on, and on the fourth day after the receipt of the sad news the Regiment was on its way to battle.

On the 27th of July we reached Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and went into Camp Curtin. For months this had been a rendezvous for regiment after regiment. The grounds had not been cleaned—the weather was intensely hot, without a leaf to intercept the scorching rays of the sun. The stench of the camp was intolerable, and the sickness of the troops rapidly increased.¹

On the 29th of July, at night, we received orders to be ready to march at 3 o'clock next morning. Our destination was supposed to be Harper's Ferry, where we were at once to engage the enemy and to "wind up the war." So great was the excitement (these things were all new then) that very few laid down for rest during the night. At 3 A. M., of the 30th, all tents were struck and rolled up; mess chests were packed, and everyone ready for the order to move. But sunrise came and found us sitting on our packages. The day wore on, I think the hottest I ever experienced. The troops remained exposed to the broiling sun till 2 o'clock P. M., when we embarked on open platform cars, without seats, and without covering. We ran down through the city, crossed the Susquehannah Bridge, halted, and remained sitting or standing in the sun till evening. The heat of the day, determining the circulation to the skin, had brought out the eruption in many cases of measles, and the poor fellows had to sit and suffer, without a place to lie down, or even a back to lean against. At dusk we found ourselves again under way; ran down to York, Pa., about forty miles. It had now commenced raining, and the cars were run out from the depot, and the suffering men who had been all day washed with their own perspiration, were compelled to sit all night in the rain. Sick or well, 'twas all the same. None were permitted to leave the open cars and go back into the depot. Towards morning the rain stopped; the wind shifted suddenly to the Northwest, and it was cold as November. After the long tedious night of suffering, the morning came, and we ran down to Baltimore, arriving there at 8 o'clock on the morning of July 31st.

We had anticipated trouble here. We disembarked, marched with muskets loaded, and bayonets fixed, from north to south through the entire length of the city, without molestation, except from the scowls of secessionists, and the welcoming hurrahs of friends.² At the Camden Street depot we remained in the most uncomfortable condition which it is possible to conceive till sunset, when we were ordered for the twentieth time during the day to "fall in." We disembarked, marched about two and a half miles, and camped on an elevated ground to the north of, and overlooking a large part of the city and bay. The regiment did not get settled till midnight, and many were so exhausted that they threw themselves on the ground, with their clothes still wet from the previous night's rain. The medical department, however, succeeded by 10 o'clock in getting up tents to protect the sick, and they were made as comfortable as the circumstances would permit.

Here the regiment remained till the 8th of August, without any occurrences worthy of note, except that sickness continued to increase, and the knowledge I gained as to how little some military commanders cared for the comfort of their sick men. After we had been here five or six days, the Colonel was positively ignorant of the fact that we had a hospital on the ground, though there were three within fifty feet of his quarters, filled to their utmost capacity with the sick and suffering. I was now receiving but little support in my efforts for their health and comfort.

_______________

¹ I made it my business to visit every tent twice a day, to see that they were thoroughly cleaned, and that the sides of the tent were raised so as freely to admit a current of air. But here the air without was so foul as to improve the condition inside but little. I will here say, however, that the Surgeon of a Regiment who does not visit every tent in his encampment at least once a day, to satisfy himself by personal inspection that it is thoroughly cleaned and ventilated, and that at least once a week the tents are all struck, and the sun admitted for several hours to the ground on which they stand, is not deserving of the position which he holds.

² Only two companies were armed. They were placed one in front, the other in the rear of the Regiment, and so marched through the city.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 5-9

Major-General William T. Sherman to Major-General Ulysses S. Grant, June 2, 1863

HEADQUARTERS FIFTEENTH ARMY CORPS,        

Walnut Hill, June 2, 1863.

Major-General GRANT,
        Present:

DEAR GENERAL: I would most respectfully suggest that you use your personal influence with President Lincoln to accomplish a result on which it may be the ultimate peace and security of our country depends. I mean to his use of the draft to fill up our old regiments.

I see by the public journals that a draft is to be made, and that 100,000 men are to be assigned to fill up the old regiments, and 200,000 to be organized as new troops. I do not believe that Mr. Lincoln, or any man, would at this critical period of our history repeat the fatal mistakes of last year. Taking this army as a fair sample of the whole, what is the case? The regiments do not average 300 men, nor did they exceed that strength last fall when the new regiments joined us in November and December. Their rolls contained about 900 names, whereas now their ranks are even thinner than the older organizations. All who deal with troops in fact instead of theory know that the knowledge of the little details of camp life is absolutely necessary to keep men alive. New regiments for want of this knowledge have measles, mumps, diarrhea, and the whole catalogue of infantile diseases, whereas the same number of men distributed among the older regiments would learn from the sergeants and corporals and privates the art of taking care of themselves, which would actually save their lives and preserve their health against the host of diseases that invariably attack the new regiments. Also, recruits distributed among older companies catch up, from close and intimate contact, a knowledge of drill, the care and use of arms, and all the instruction which otherwise it would take months to impart. The economy, too, should recommend the course of distributing all the recruits as privates to the old regiments, but these reasons appear to me so plain that it is ridiculous for me to point them out to you, or even to suggest them to an intelligent civilian.

I am assured by many that the President does actually desire to support and sustain the Army, and that he desires to know the wishes and opinions of the officers who serve in the wood instead of the "salon." If so, you would be listened to.

It will take at least 600 good recruits per regiment to fill up the present army to the proper standard. Taking 1,000 as the number of regiments in actual existence, this would require 600,000 recruits. It may be the industrial interests of the country will not authorize such a call, but how much greater the economy to make an army and fight out this war at once. See how your success is checked by the want of prompt and adequate enforcement to guard against a new enemy gathering to the rear. Could your regiments be filled up to even the standard of 700 men for duty, you would be content to finish quick and well the work so well begun. If a draft be made, and the men be organized into new regiments instead of filling up the old, the President may satisfy a few aspiring men, but will prolong the war for years and allow the old regiments to die of natural exhaustion. I have several regiments which have lost honestly in battle and by disease more than half their original men, and the wreck or remainder, with colonel, lieutenant-colonel, major, ten captains, lieutenants, &c., and a mere squad of men, remind us of the army of Mexico—all officers and no men. It would be an outrage to consolidate these old, tried, and veteran regiments and bring in the new and comparatively worthless bodies. But fill up our present ranks, and there is not an officer or man of this army but would feel renewed hope and courage to meet the struggles before us.

I regard this matter as more important than any other that could possibly arrest the attention of President Lincoln, and it is for this reason that I ask you to urge it upon him at this auspicious time. If adopted, it would be more important than the conquest of Vicksburg and Richmond together, as it would be a victory of common sense over the popular fallacies that have ruled and almost ruined our country.

With great respect, your friend and servant,

W. T. SHERMAN,        

Major-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series III, Volume 3 (Serial No. 124), p. 386-8

Major-General Ulysses S. Grant to Julia Dent Grant, May 4, 1862

Monterey Ten. May 4th 1862

D EAR J ULIA ,

Olando Ross has just arrived bringing a letter for me from you and also one from father. The latter seems very anxious that I should contradict the statements made by the newspapers! Dont he know the best contradiction in the world is to pay no attention to them? I am in the best health in the world. I think I must be twenty pounds heavyer than when first arrived at Savanna. I was then much reduced however from Diareah. My weight now must be 150 pounds. Orley says that Missy is one of the smartest little girls to learn in Covington. I wrote to you that when you heard of my arrival any place on the Mississippi river you might join me. We now have our advance within three miles of Corinth. Every day our column moves up closer to the enemy. It is a big job however to get a large Army over country roads where it has been raining for the last five months. If we could go strung along the road where there was no enemy to meet it would be different. Here however the front must be kept compact and we do well to approach a few miles every day. Yesterday Gen. Pope had quite a skirmish with the rebels in getting possession of the town of Farmington three miles of Corinth. Pope lost two men killed & twelve wounded whilst the enemy left thirty dead on the field and lost quite a number taken prisoners. You will hear the result of the attack on Corinth, by telegraph, before this reaches you.—I sent you $250.00 by express the other day. Draw the $100.00 you got from Mr. Safford as a matter of course. I want you to let father have all you can for us to start on at the close of the war but dont stint yourself. I want you and the children to dress well. You can say to father that Nelsons troops made a good march on Saturday and were ordered that evening to march up the river to opposite Pittsburg Landing the next morning, which they did starting at an early hour. After the attack commenced orders were sent hurrying them up. But it is no small matter to march 10,000 men nine miles and cross a river with them when there are no ferry boats and but a small landing overcrouded with steamers.

The papers will get done with this thing after awhile and look upon the first days fight at Pittsburg Landing as one of the best resistances ever made. The enemy outnumbered us three to one that day and we held the field.

Kiss the children for me. Give my love to all at home. Did you get Simp’s watch? I shall not want my citizens clothing until my return to the loyal states. I hope and feel that my return there is not going to be long defered. After one more big battle it certainly cannot be necessary to keep this large army together and I am anxious to go either to Texas or on the coast someplace. Kisses for yourself.

U LYS.

The letter I sent you from Gen. Smith was probably the last he ever wrote. That was written by himself but seeing how badly it was done he had it copied and signed it himself. He was a gallant soldier and one whos esteem was worth having. In Gen. Sherman the country has an able and gallant defender and your husband a true friend.

U

SOURCES: Bruce Catton, “Grant Writes Home,” American Heritage, October 1973, Volume 24, Issue 6, p. 18; John Y. Simon, Editor, The Papers of Ulysses S. Grant, Volume 5: April 1-August 31, 1862, p. 110-1;

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: September 28, 1864

Sent word to Battese by a convalescent who is being sent to the large prison, that I am getting well. Would like to see him. Am feeling better. Good many union men in Savannah. Three hundred sick here, with all kinds of diseases — gangrene, dropsy, scurvy, typhoid and other fevers, diarrhea, &c. Good care taken of me. Have medicine often, and gruel. Land does the writing.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 98

Diary of William Howard Russell: June 20, 1861

When I awoke this morning and, gazing out of my little window on the regiments parading on the level below me, after an arduous struggle to obtain cold water for a bath, sat down to consider what I had seen within the last two months, and to arrive at some general results from the retrospect, I own that after much thought my mind was reduced to a hazy analysis of the abstract principles of right and wrong, in which it failed to come to any very definite conclusion: the space of a very few miles has completely altered the phases of thought and the forms of language.

I am living among “abolitionists, cut-throats, Lancolnite mercenaries, foreign invaders, assassins, and plundering Dutchmen.” Such, at least, the men of Columbus tell me the garrison at Cairo consists of. Down below me are “rebels, conspirators, robbers, slave breeders, wretches bent upon destroying the most perfect government on the face of the earth, in order to perpetuate an accursed system, by which, however, beings are held in bondage and immortal souls consigned to perdition.”

On the whole, the impression left upon my mind by what I had seen in slave states is unfavorable to the institution of slavery, both as regards its effect on the slave and its influence on the master. But my examination was necessarily superficial and hasty. I have reason to believe that the more deeply the institution is probed, the more clearly will its unsoundness and its radical evils be discerned. The constant appeals made to the physical comforts of the slaves, and their supposed contentment, have little or no effect on any person who acts up to a higher standard of human happiness than that which is applied to swine or the beasts of the fields “See how fat my pigs are.”

The arguments founded on a comparison of the condition of the slave population with the pauperized inhabitants of European states are utterly fallacious, inasmuch as in one point, which is the most important by far, there can be no comparison at all. In effect slavery can only be justified in the abstract on the grounds which slavery advocates decline to take boldly, though they insinuate it now and then, that is, the inferiority of the negro in respect to white men, which removes them from the upper class of human beings and places them in a condition which is as much below the Caucasian standard as the quadrumanous creatures are beneath the negro. Slavery is a curse, with its time of accomplishment not quite, at hand — it is a cancer, the ravages of which are covered by fair outward show, and by the apparent health of the sufferer.

The Slave States, of course, would not support the Northern for a year, if cotton, sugar, and tobacco became suddenly worthless. But, nevertheless, the slave-owners would have strong grounds to stand upon if they were content to point to the difficulties in the way of emancipation, and the circumstances under which they received their damnosa hereditas from England, which fostered, nay forced, slavery in legislative hotbeds throughout the colonies. The Englishman may say, “We abolished slavery when we saw its evils.” The slave-owner replies, “Yes, with you it was possible to decree the extinction — not with us.”

Never did a people enter on a war so utterly destitute of any reason for waging it, or of the means of bringing it to a successful termination against internal enemies. The thirteen colonies had a large population of sea-faring and soldiering men, constantly engaged in military expeditions. There was a large infusion, compared with the numbers of men capable of commanding in the field, and their great enemy was separated by a space far greater than the whole circumference of the globe would be in the present time from the scene of operations. Most American officers who took part in the war of 1812-14 are now too old for service, or retired into private life soon after the campaign. The same remark applies to the senior officers who served in Mexico, and the experiences of that campaign could not be of much use to those now in the service, of whom the majority were subalterns, or at most, officers in command of volunteers.

A love of military display is very different indeed from a true soldierly spirit, and at the base of the volunteer system there lies a radical difficulty, which must be overcome before real military efficiency can be expected. In the South the foreign element has contributed largely to swell the ranks with many docile and a few experienced soldiers, the number of the latter predominating in the German levies, and the same remark is, I hear, true of the Northern armies.

The most active member of the staff here is a young Englishman named Binmore, who was a stenographic writer in London, but has now sharpened his pencil into a sword, and when I went into the guard-room this morning I found that three fourths of the officers, including all who had seen actual service, were foreigners. One, Milotzky, was an Hungarian; another, Waagner, was of the same nationality; a third, Schuttner, was a German; another, Mac something, was a Scotchman; another was an Englishman. One only (Colonel Morgan), who had served in Mexico, was an American. The foreigners, of course, serve in this war as mercenaries; that is, they enter into the conflict to gain something by it, either in pay, in position, or in securing a status for themselves.

The utter absence of any fixed principle determining the side which the foreign nationalities adopt is proved by their going North or South with the state in which they live. On the other hand, the effects of discipline and of the principles of military life on rank and file are shown by the fact that the soldiers of the regular regiments of the United States and the sailors in the navy have to a man adhered to their colors, notwithstanding the examples and inducements of their officers.

After breakfast I went down about the works, which fortify the bank of mud, in the shape of a V, formed by the two rivers — a fleche with a ditch, scarp, and counter-scarp. Some heavy pieces cover the end of the spit at the other side of the Mississippi, at Bird's Point. On the side of Missouri there is a field intrenchment, held by a regiment of Germans, Poles, and Hungarians, about 1000 strong, with two field batteries. The sacred soil of Kentucky, on the other side of the Ohio, is tabooed by Beriah Magoffin, but it is not possible for the belligerents to stand so close face to face without occupying either Columbus or Hickman. The thermometer was at 100° soon after breakfast, and it was not wonderful to find that the men in Camp Defiance, which is the name of the cantonment on the mud between the levees of the Ohio and Mississippi, were suffering from diarrhoea and fever.

In the evening there was a review of three regiments, forming a brigade of some 2800 men, who went through their drill, advancing in columns of company, moving en echelon, changing front, deploying into line on the centre company, very creditably. It was curious to see what a start ran through the men during the parade when a gun was fired from the battery close at hand, and how their heads turned toward the river; but the steamer which had appeared round the bend hoisted the private signs, by which she was known as a friend, and tranquillity was restored.

I am not sure that most of these troops desire anything but a long residence at a tolerably comfortable station, with plenty of pay and no marching. Cairo, indeed, is not comfortable; the worst barrack that ever asphyxiated the British soldier would be better than the best shed here, and the flies and the mosquitoes are beyond all conception virulent and pestiferous. I would not give much to see Cairo in its normal state, but it is my fate to witness the most interesting scenes in the world through a glaze of gunpowder. It would be unfair to say that any marked superiority in dwelling, clothing, or comfort was visible between the mean white of Cairo or the black chattel a few miles down the river. Brawling, rioting, and a good deal of drunkenness prevailed in the miserable sheds which line the stream, although there was nothing to justify the libels on the garrison of the Columbus Crescent, edited by one Colonel L. G. Faxon, of the Tennessee Tigers, with whose writings I was made acquainted by General Prentiss, to whom they appeared to give more annoyance than he was quite wise in showing.

This is a style of journalism which may have its merits, and which certainly is peculiar; I give a few small pieces. “The Irish are for us, and they will knock Bologna sausages out of the Dutch, and we will knock wooden nutmegs out of the Yankees.” “The mosquitoes of Cairo have been sucking the lager-bier out of the dirty soldiers there so long, they are bloated and swelled up as large as spring ’possums. An assortment of Columbus mosquitoes went up there the other day to suck some, but as they have not returned, the probability is they went off with delirium tremens; in fact, the blood of these Hessians would poison the most degraded tumble bug in creation.”

Our editor is particularly angry about the recent seizure of a Confederate flag at Columbus by Colonel Oglesby and a party of Federals from Cairo. Speaking of a flag intended for himself, he says, “Would that its folds had contained 1000 asps to sting 1000 Dutchmen to eternity unshriven.” Our friend is certainly a genius. His paper of June the 19th opens with an apology for the non-appearance of the journal for several weeks. “Before leaving,” he says, “we engaged the services of a competent editor, and left a printer here to issue the paper regularly. We were detained several weeks beyond our time, the aforesaid printer promised faithfully to perform his duties, but he left the same day we did, and consequently there was no one to get out the paper. We have the charity to suppose that fear and bad whiskey had nothing to do with his evacuation of Columbus.” Another elegant extract about the flag commences, “When the bow-legged wooden-shoed, sour craut stinking, Bologna sausage eating, hen roost robbing Dutch sons of —— had accomplished the brilliant feat of taking down the Secession flag on the river bank, they were pointed to another flag of the same sort which their guns did not cover, flying gloriously and defiantly, and dared yea! double big black dog — dared, as we used to say at school, to take that flag down — the cowardly pups, the thieving sheep dogs, the sneaking skunks dare not do so, because their twelve pieces of artillery were not bearing on it.” As to the Federal commander at Cairo, Colonel Faxon's sentiments are unambiguous. “The qualifications of this man, Prentiss,” he says, “for the command of such a squad of villains and cut-throats are, that he is a miserable hound, a dirty dog, a sociable fellow, a treacherous villain, a notorious thief, a lying blackguard, who has served his regular five years in the Penitentiary and keeps his hide continually full of Cincinnati whiskey, which he buys by the barrel in order to save his money — in him are embodied the leprous rascals ties of the world, and in this living score, the gallows is cheated of its own. Prentiss wants our scalp; we propose a plan by which he may get that valuable article. Let him select 150 of his best fighting men, or 250 of his lager-bier Dutchmen, we will select 100, then let both parties meet where there will be no interruption at the scalping business, and the longest pole will knock the persimmon. If he does not accept this proposal, he is a coward. We think this a gentlemanly proposition and quite fair and equal to both parties.”

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, Vol. 1, p. 332-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: July 3, 1863

My son Custis stayed out all night, sleeping on his arms in the farthest intrenchments. A little beyond, there was a skirmish with the enemy. We lost eight in killed and wounded. What the enemy suffered is not known, but he fell back, and ran toward the White House.

This morning, Mr. Ould, agent for exchange of prisoners, reported that “not a Yankee could be found on the face of the earth.” And this induced a general belief that the enemy had retired, finally, being perhaps ordered to Washington, where they may be much needed.

The Secretary of War, believing the same thing, intimated to Gen. Elzey (who for some cause is unable to ride, and therefore remains in the city) a desire to send several regiments away to some menaced point at a distance. In response, Elzey writes that none can be spared with safety; that the enemy had apparently divided his force into two bodies, one for Hanover, and the other for the Chickahominy, and both strong; and he advised against weakening the forces here He said he had not yet completed the manning of the batteries, the delay being in arming the men — and he hoped “Hill could hold out.”

We have 3400 convalescents at Camp Lee, and as many more may be relied on for the defense of the city; so we shall have not less than 22,000 men for the defense of Richmond. The enemy have perhaps 35,000; but it would require 75,000 to storm our batteries. Let this be remembered hereafter, if the 35,000 sent here on a fool's errand might have saved Washington or Baltimore, or have served to protect Pennsylvania — and then let the press of the North bag the administration at Washington! Gen. Lee's course is "right onward," and cannot be affected by events here.

My friend Jacques (clerk) marched out yesterday with the Department Guard; but he had the diarrhoea, and was excused from marching as far as the company. He also got permission to come to town this morning, having slept pretty well, he said, apart from the company. No doubt he did good service in the city today, having his rifle fixed (the ball, I believe, had got down before the powder), and procuring a basket of edibles and a canteen o. strong tea, which he promised to share with the mess. He said he saw Custis this morning, looking well, after sleeping on the ground the first time in his life, and without a blanket.

We have nothing further from the North or the West.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 368-9

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: June 24, 1863

A rainy, unpleasant day, such as they say Englishmen commit suicide in. Melancholy. Kept pretty close to the tent. Read Independent of May 28th, and some in "Barnaby Rudge." In the evening wrote part of a letter to Fannie. Am about free of diarrhoea. Feel encouraged.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 75

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: June 13, 1863

Another hot sultry day. Flies swarm about the commissary by thousands — a continual fight to keep them off. Got some lemons for Henry and some candy. Independent and Congregationalist came. Good sermon by Beecher. Both Thede and I are bothered with diarrhoea.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 73-4

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: June 6, 1863

After breakfast and morning work issued rations — beef —  at daylight. Felt rather tired after the work. Cleaned a carbine I had used for some time. Rather hard job. Another dry sultry day. Thede feels under the weather. Both have the diarrhoea. Boys went for strawberries, but could not get any. Paymaster here.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 72

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: May 14, 1863

Went down to H Co. after morning work and played chess. Beat Capt. N. three times and John Devlin four times. Cleaned up my revolvers. Col. Abbey appointed acting Brigade Com. Says Thede can be detailed here. Good. He has been sick with diarrhoea. Getting a little better. In evening read in “Les Miserables.” Has been a pleasant day. Girl of McGuire's buried today. Alarmed last night. Morgan coming.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 69

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: May 13, 1863

Took our horses out. Issued beef. Cleaned up and went over to town. Col. Abbey bought me a good woolen hat. John Ritter moved over to town — Div. saddler — good place. Took Thede some cheese. Diarrhoea. Sorry. Played chess with A. B. — got the worse. Rainy evening. No letters.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 69

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: April 11, 1864

Dr Lewis is very bad off with the scurvy and diarrhea. We don't think he can stand it much longer, but make out to him that he will stick it through. Our government must hear of our condition here and get us away before long. If they don't, its a poor government to tie to. Hendryx and myself are poor, as also are all the mess. Still in good health compared with the generality of the prisoners. Jimmy Devers has evidently sort of dried up, and it don't seem to make any difference whether he gets anything to eat or not. He has now been a prisoner of war nearly a year, and is in good health and very hopeful of getting away in time. Sticks up for our government and says there is some good reason for our continued imprisonment. I can see none As many as 12,000 men here now, and crowded for room. Death rate is in the neighborhood of eighty per day. Hendryx prowls around all over the prison, bringing us what good news he can, which is not much. A very heavy dew nights, which is almost a rain Rebels very domineering. Many are tunneling to get out. Our tunnel has been abandoned, as the location was not practicable. Yank shot to-day near our quarters. Approached too near the dead line. Many of the men have dug down through the sand and reached water, but it is poor; no better than out of the creek.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 50

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: April 3, 1864

We have stopped wondering at suffering or being surprised at anything. Can't do the subject justice and so don't try. Walk around camp every morning looking for acquaintances, the sick, &c. can see a dozen most any morning laying around dead A great many are terribly afflicted with diarrhea and scurvy begins to take hold of some. Scurvy is a bad disease, and taken in connection with the former is sure death. Some have dropsy as well as scurvy, and the swollen limbs and body are sad to see. To think that these victims have people at home, mothers, wives and sisters, who are thinking of them and would do much for them if they had the chance, little dreaming of their condition.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 46

3rd Sergeant Charles Wright Wills: October 27, 1861

Bird's Point, October 27, 1861.

I haven't written for a full week because I really had nothing to write and in fact I have not now. Although soldiering is a hugely lazy life, yet these short days we seem to have but little spare time. We are up nearly an hour before sun up, have breakfast about sunrise, drill (company) from about 8 to 10. Cards until dinner time, 12; lounge or read until 2; battalion drill untill 4:30 or 5, supper, and then dress parade at 4:45; from candle lighting untill bedtime (taps), 10, we have cards mixed with singing or some awful noises from Sam Nutt and Fred Norcott. Those two boys can make more noise than three threshing machines. Our boys are all in excellent health and prime spirits. Fred and Sam and Sid are fatter than the Canton folk ever saw them. There are but four regiments at the Point now, so we have to work on the entrenchments every fourth day two hours or cut down trees the same length of time. We are clearing away the timber within 500 yards of the earthworks. It is mostly Cottonwood and very heavy. They stand so thick that if we notch a dozen or so pretty deep and then fell one it will knock three or four down. Lin Coldwell and I are going to get a set of chess to-morrow. That gunboat, “New Era,” that the papers blow so much about is of no account as a gunboat. She is laid up at Mound City for a battery. The men on her have told me that she wouldn't half stand before a land battery that amounted to anything. We are beginning to have some frost here, but I don't believe we'd suffer a bit lying in these tents all winter. The sickly season is over now and the health is improving very much. We had 18 on the sick list in our company three weeks ago and now we have but three, and they are only diarrhoea or the like. I tell you I feel as strong as two mules and am improving. I haven't been the least unwell yet. Our boys are perfectly sick for a fight so they can be even with the 17th. We are sure that the 17th doesn't deserve to be named the same day with us for drill or discipline, with all their bragging. They are an awful set of blowhards. Sid., Theo., Ben Rockhold and John Wallace are on picket out of our mess to-night. The picket was fired on last night where they are posted to-night.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 38-9

Brigadier-General William F. Bartlett: November 12, 1864

I am very much encouraged by my condition the last few days, very little pain, no diarrhoea.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 148

Diary of Brigadier-General William F. Bartlett: September 23, 1864

The boat does not go this morning, some delay, to-morrow now. To-night the roll is brought in for us to sign. My name leads it again. Fisher the flanker is down to go. Brady goes too. Arthur alone of the quartette is left. The last night in Libby! I was taken with a bad diarrhoea, up all night, very weak.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 142

Brigadier-General William F. Bartlett to Harriet Plummer Bartlett, August 5, 1864

Prisoners' Hospital,

Danville, Va., August 5, 1864.

Dear Mother, — I will write a few lines in the hope that they may reach you at some time. You know, of course, that I was taken prisoner, that my leg (wooden) was crushed; the man next me was killed by the same shell. I was very much used up and have been very weak from diarrhoea since. I was brought from the prison to this place night before last. The other officers were all sent to Columbia, S. C, yesterday, Colonel Weld and Captain Amory included; so I am all alone I shall be sent there when I am well enough, I suppose. I am in a tent here, and have plenty of fresh air. I hope no blame is given me for the failure of Saturday. I certainly did all in my power. I held the pit with, hardly any force after the rest of the line had been retaken. The rebel flag was within six feet of mine, just the ridge of dirt between, for nearly an hour. It was impossible to withdraw without sacrificing all the men, so I held on as long as possible in hope of reinforcements. The negroes were crowded into the same pit with us when they retreated in such confusion, and we have been treated worse, an account of being taken with them.

I shall get better here, I think. I don't suppose you will be able to send me anything. Tufts, the Massachusetts Agent in Washington, will know. Write me. Not more than one page is allowed, I believe. Address Prisoner of War, Danville, Va. Has George got home yet? And my horses? Take good care of Ned. I made arrangements to have him sent home in case anything happened to me. The Chaplain and Dr. White promised to see to it. If you can send me a small box with something to eat and drink, some tea and coffee, I should like it. It might get to me. Send it through Tufts, Massachusetts Agent in Washington. Send this letter to A. P. I shall not be able to write any more at present. I have Uncle Edwin's “letter” with me, and may be able to use it. Don't be worried about me, I shall be well soon. I shall get a pair of crutches made so I can get about soon. My half-dollar pocket-piece did me good service; brought me eight dollars confederate money, with which I bought a tooth-brush. Milk two dollars qt., etc. My love to all. Let them write me often; some will get through.

Your affectionate son,

W. F. Bartlett.

Brigadier-general U. S. A., Prisoner of War.

(Envelopes, $8. a package.)

There has been some talk of exchanging sick and wounded prisoners. I hope it will be effected.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 121-3

Diary of Sergeant George G. Smith: Sunday, March 27, 1863

Ordered on board a transport for Donaldsonville whence the First Louisiana steamed down the river arriving the next morning at three o'clock. My ailment was complicated with diarrhoea and flux, so the surgeon said I must go in the hospital which I did and the regiment went into camp.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 43