Showing posts with label Rations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rations. Show all posts

Monday, March 25, 2024

Diary of Private Bartlett Yancey Malone, March 7, 1862

clear but very cool and we have orders to cook too days rations and be ready to march in the morning but where we are agoing is more than I no

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 16

Diary of Private Bartlett Yancey Malone, March 28, 1862

a beautyfull spring day and we have orders this eavning to cook 3 days rashers And I hird severl cannons fyering this eavning but what is to be the result is more than I no

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 17

Thursday, March 21, 2024

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Sunday, October 6, 1861

Camp at Darnestown. The battery received three new guns in the afternoon. Lieut. J. G. Hassard, having joined our battery, at Darnestown, commanded the right section as First Lieutenant. Company cooking was introduced by him. Before that, every detachment done its own cooking. The enterprise itself, of cooking for the whole company, and the selling of a part of the rations, for raising a company fund, would have been well enough, but the management was extremely poor. Some days we fared well; on other days there would be no dinner, but a detestable bacon soup, hardly fit for hogs. We were told that the government rations would not admit of a dinner every day. But what good did it do then to sell rations, under the pretext of raising a company fund? This is a question which never could nor never will be satisfactorily, explained by those who started it.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 22-3

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Daniel L. Ambrose: December 12, 1864

Finds us across the Ogeechee, finds us before Savannah, finds us twelve miles from the sea. A defiant foe is before us disputing our advance; this day we may fight a battle—may see what virtue there is in lead and steel. The army is now at a stand; some skirmishing and some fighting is continually going on. The troops are upon quarter rations. Will we fail? Our gallant Sherman says no, follow me, and I will lead you through. To-night we hear Slocum's guns echoing a death-knell to arch-treason. Tomorrow's sun may set upon a field wet with the heart's blood of warriors, for everything this evening looks warlike.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 283-4

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 15, 1863

CAMP 15 MILES NORTH OF JACKSON, MISS.—Another month has passed away since my last writing—a month big with events in the history of the Forty-first Tennessee Regiment, and I regret exceedingly that I have not been able to record the incidents as they occurred, while they were fresh in my mind, and before succeeding eventse ffaced [sic] them from memory. As it is, the reports will be meagre more so than their importance deserves.

During the last week in April, I was in the country foraging (and to that trip I intended to devote at least a page), and, on returning to camp on the evening of the 1st of May, I found the Forty-first in fine spirits, caused by an order to cook up four days' rations and be ready to march by the morning of the 2nd of May. Those who have never been cooped up in a fortified camp for four months, out of the pale of civilization and out of reach of home and friends, living on half rations, with the prospect of having them reduced still lower by the cutting off of future supplies, and in such a climate in summer, can form but an imperfect idea of the joy with which we hailed the prospect of a change of scene. Our happiness was not of a kind to be confined to our bosoms, but found vent in long and oft-repeated cheers and other demonstrations of satisfaction, as we were making our preparations to leave.

It would be impossible now for me to write a correct history of the long and tiresome march from Port Hudson to Jackson, Miss. [Was a soldier ever happy longer than twenty-four hours at a time?] How many of us started with loads heavy enough to break down a mule; how Jack Smith went some distance before he found out he had left his cartridge box, and the laugh we had at his expense; how we trudged along through hot, dusty lanes, panting with heat and thirst, breaking down under the unaccustomed loads, our feet blistered and legs swollen; how on the first day we were refused water by a wealthy Louisiana woman, whose servants kindly offered to sell it to us at twenty-five cents a canteen full; how loth we were, at that time, to drink of the dirty pools by the way-side, but had to. These form some of the incidents of the first day's march of eleven miles. Each succeeding day we suffered an increase of these hardships; our feet became so sore that we could hardly put them to the ground, and many of us threw away our shoes and surplus clothing. We had to make longer marches; our rations gave out, and the heat and dust became almost insufferable; at the same time, we had to keep a sharp lookout for Yankee cavalry; and, to crown our misery, on reaching Osyka, seventy-five miles from Port Hudson, where we expected to take the cars, we found that the railroad had recently been destroyed by a raid under Grierson as far as Brookhaven, except about ten miles, and that we would get no more rations until we got to the latter place. Parched corn and peas, with a little rice, constituted our ration at Osyka; but the next night we succeeded in reaching Magnolia, where we took the cars and rode to Summit, a distance of ten miles. At Summit we were most kindly treated by the ladies, who vied with each other as to who could do the most for us. They fed at least half of the brigade.

We took it afoot to Brookhaven, a distance of twenty miles. Here we boarded the cars for Jackson, where we arrived on Saturday night, after being one week on the route. At Jackson we were allowed to rest all of Sunday, but at five o'clock Monday morning we were ordered under arms without a moment's preparation, and had to start without cooked rations. Many of us left our clothing, thinking that we were only going to move to a more suitable camping-ground, and were not a little surprised when, after marching through Jackson in column of platoons, we turned our faces westward, and it leaked out that we were going to attack the enemy.

We had a hard march, and when the brigade filed into a field near Raymond to camp, the men were too tired to stand in line long enough to "right dress," and every one dropped to rest as soon as halted. I went out foraging here, and was so fortunate as to meet up with some kind ladies, who gave me something to eat and a magnificent bouquet of magnolias, and one also of onions, both of which were very acceptable. At an early hour the next day we were ordered under arms, and formed line of battle on the square at Raymond. About 9 o'clock our forces met the advance of the enemy, some two miles beyond, and the engagement began. At 12 o'clock the Forty-first, which had been held in reserve, was ordered to advance and support the left wing, which was said to be in danger of being flanked by the enemy. We advanced at a quick step, under a broiling sun, through a dusty lane, for nearly a mile, when a courier came up with orders for us to return to town and guard the ordnance. We had hardly reached our destination when a second order came to file off on a road leading to the center. After marching a mile in this direction, another order turned us back to town, which we had hardly reached before we were again ordered to return to the battle-field on the same road. On reaching this point we were formed in line in the center, and then obliqued across a field to the extreme left. Here we piled our knapsacks in a heap and double-quicked a mile and a half. Lieutenant-Colonel Tillman performed a splendid maneuvre under the fire of the enemy's artillery, forming line of battle on the tenth company with great precision of execution and without the least confusion. We then advanced under fire to our position across a field, and gained the edge of the woods in which the enemy was concealed. Captain Ab. Boone's company was thrown out as skirmishers, while we formed along the road in an excellent defensive position. While waiting here for the advance of the enemy, we learned that Captain Boone was killed while deploying his skirmishers. His death cast a momentary gloom over the regiment, but the circumstance was soon forgotten in the excitement of the hour. We remained in position something over an hour, waiting for the enemy's advance, when an order came for the Forty-first to bring up the rear and cover the retreat of the rest of the brigade. It was now ascertained that Gregg's Brigade had been engaged all day, with a force eight or ten times its superior in numbers, and had successfully held it in check until it had orders to quit the field. The task assigned the Forty-first was performed in perfect order, though a Federal battery, on observing the movement, had advanced to within five hundred yards and opened fire on it as it crossed an open field. We fell back to a point four miles from Raymond and eleven from Jackson, where we met General Walker's Georgia Brigade, which had come out to reinforce us. We bivouacked here until the next morning, and then marched and countermarched along the road, expecting the enemy to attack, until five o'clock P.M., when we learned that the Yankees were marching on Jackson in three columns, each of which greatly outnumbered our force. General Gregg now ordered us to make time to this place, or the enemy would beat us there, which we did in four hours, without making a single halt.

Our sufferings during this engagement were such as perhaps few soldiers have endured in this war. The day was unusually hot, and the roads so dusty that we couldn't see our file-leaders on the double-quick. And, to make our misery complete, we had no time to drink the cool water which the ladies of Raymond had brought to the doors and the side-walks, though we were parching with thirst. Our loss in killed and wounded was slight-not exceeding twenty-five-but was heavy for the time we were engaged. We lost them all, except Captain Boone, while crossing the open field in front of the enemy, and it is surprising we escaped so well from a point-blank fire in plain, open view. George Saunders and Billy Floyd were wounded at this point, also Captain John Fly, who was color-bearer. Taken altogether, the behavior of the Forty-first was all that could have been desired. The brunt of the battle was borne by the Third, Tenth, and Fiftieth Tennessee Regiments and the First Tennessee Battalion—all of which sustained a considerable loss. The loss in the whole brigade is estimated at five hundred.

The morning after our arrival at Jackson, rations were issued to us, but, before we had time to cook them, an order came to pack up cooking utensils and get ready to move. I had just gotten a fire started and one skillet of bread down, and I never did an act in my life which cost me a greater effort than it did to throw out that dough, not knowing when I would have a chance to cook again, as the enemy was in a mile and a half, and a bloody battle was expected that day. The rain was pouring down that morning in torrents, and the roads were ankle deep in sticky mud. Notwithstanding all this, we were soon under arms, and marched from the left to the center; then across fields, knee deep in mud, to the extreme right. We heard the artillery booming away on the left as we plodded across the fields, but saw no Yankees. About 12 o'clock we were ordered back to the city to guard the baggage train, but, before getting there, learned that the enemy had possession of the place, and that the army was then retreating. We then changed direction, and filed off on a road leading north, and halted on top of a hill for the rest of the brigade to get before us. On looking back, we saw a column of black smoke rising over the city, caused by the burning of the ordnance stores. I couldn't help a feeling of pity for the helpless women and children, though the citizens had shown us very little sympathy on a previous visit.

The fight, I learn, was a very poor affair after all, as some of our troops broke and ran at the first charge of the enemy, giving them possession of the city almost without a struggle. It would have been folly to have attempted a defense against such superior numbers. We retreated slowly and in good order to a camping-ground seven miles north, where we rested and cooked rations—both of which were sadly needed.

I never saw so many broken-down men as on that evening. The mud and our wet clothing and blankets, together with a day's fasting and a very hard march on the previous night, were too much for us. I had to eat raw, fat bacon, without bread, on that day for the first time in my life.

The next day we made an easy march of eleven miles to a depot ten miles south of Canton; rested here a day, and then took the road again in a south-westerly course for two days, when our progress was checked in that direction by a heavy force of the enemy; were drawn up in line of battle once, but no engagement ensued. We then changed direction, going north one day, then due east to within ten miles of Canton, where we are remaining at present, being allowed a day to rest and clean up.

General J. E. Johnston assumed command of the forces on last Sunday morning, and I think it is his intention to collect an army here from Tennessee and the interior, and fall upon the rear of the enemy engaged in the siege of Vicksburg. The forces are coming in at the rate of three brigades to-day, the 21st.

While marching and counter-marching here in sixty miles of Vicksburg, it is said that our forces have been badly whipped near that place, but this wants confirmation.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 166-70

Monday, March 18, 2024

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, Monday Morning, August 26, 1861

Camp at Jacksonville Morgan co. Ills. Roll call at 5 Breakfast at 5½ O'clock. Immediately after breakfast the 13 men who joined last evening were examined and sworn into the service.

Left Camp Butler with 6 other Companies at ½ past 10 O'clock marched to Jim Town left on the train at ½ past 11, arrived at Jacksonville at 3 P. M. marched from the depot to our present encampment nearly 1½ miles very hot and dusty. Had rations enough left of the amt. drawn of the commissary at Camp Butler for our supper Would not issue rations to us this evening, for tomorrow through some mistake or other Have a nice pleasant place for our Camp high dry and healthy.

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 223

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, Tuesday, August 27, 1861

Had no breakfast this morning except some we borrowed of Capt. Hitt. The Quarter Master is a d----d mean man in the opinion of our Comp. he issued no rations to us yesterday evening, nor came from town this morning until after 9 O'clock Capt Parke is Officer of the day to day Furlough granted to F. T. Clark Joel Knipp and Robt. Chapman running from this date till Saturday 31st August.

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 223

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, August 29, 1861

Reveille early this morning preparations for leaving Camp McClernand, Tents struck at a few minutes after 10 A. M. Baggage packed & loaded by ½ past 11 A. M. Companies on parade ¼ past 12 M. Marched into Jacksonville at 1 O'clock P. M. in court yard till 4 O'clock P. M. Marched to the cars, nothing but open cars for the men, Large crowd at the depot to witness our departure. Had some trouble while at the depot with private Sullivan, he was drunk had to tie him for refusing to be still, Left Springfield at 10 minutes past 5 P. M. amid the firing of cannon and immense cheering of the citisens 1st Sergent Browning left behind to recruit his health, to follow up as soon as that will permit. Arrived at Decatur without anything of moment transpiring. At 1 O'clock on the morning of the 30th issued some rations of hard crackers & cheese to the men Changed cars; better accommodations from there, to Cairo, in passenger coaches but nothing better to eat. Arrived at Cairo at 4 O'clock P. M. marched to quarters on the open plain above the city.

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 223

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, August 31, 1861

Camp Defiance Cairo Ills. Roll call, Squad drill this morning. after breakfast men set to work-cleaning up the groun[d.] Repeated firing of cannon in the artillery drill at Birds Point-One man nearly killed by the discharge of a cannon Morning report made out and handed in at Head Quarters 2 men in addition to last report—Aggregate No. of men in Parkes comp now 98. both sworn into the service by the Col. Rations of bread short this morning through the rascality or neglect of the Quartermaster—great dissatisfaction throughout the camp on account of it. Col. saw to the matter and bread here by half after 8 O'clock tonight.

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 223

Thursday, March 14, 2024

Diary of Private William S. White, June 14, 1861

Arrived at Bethel Church this morning about 9 A. M., and immediately set to work to get breakfast—such a breakfast: salt pork, black Rio coffee and hard crackers. Well, such is a soldier's life, and we mustn't complain. The Zouaves are having even a harder time of it than we, for their rations have not yet arrived. Most of their officers seem to be gentlemen, but some of them are very cruel to their men. The Second Louisiana regiment came down a few hours since.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 101

Wednesday, March 6, 2024

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Tuesday, September 2, 1862

Cold. I drew my rations. Paper, 5c. Fuss about meals. Supper, 25c.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 4

Friday, March 1, 2024

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 2, 1862

We are all togged out with new blue clothes, haversacks and canteens. The haversack is a sack of black enamelled cloth with a flap to close it and a strap to go over the shoulder, and is to carry our food in,—rations, I should say. The canteen is of tin, covered with gray cloth; in shape it is like a ball that has been stepped on and flattened down. It has a neck with a cork stopper and a strap to go over the shoulder. It is for carrying water, coffee or any other drinkable. Our new clothes consist of light blue pants and a darker shade of blue for the coats, which is of sack pattern. A light blue overcoat with a cape on it, a pair of mud-colored shirts and drawers, and a cap, which is mostly forepiece. This, with a knapsack to carry our surplus outfit, and a woollen blanket to sleep on, or under, is our stock in trade. I don't suppose many will read this who do not know from observation how all these things look, for it seems as if all creation was here to look at them, and us.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 13-4

Monday, February 26, 2024

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Daniel L. Ambrose: Monday, November 21, 1864

At seven o'clock we move. Oh! how terrible the mud; teams sticking all along the road, and in consequence we move slow. We go into camp about ten o'clock upon an open field. It is now raining. The regiment is upon half rations; the men are standing, shivering around the camp fires; it is a terrible night; the fierce, wild winds sweep through the Seventh's camp. Nothing to shelter the men from the howling storm, but this matters not. "Let the world wag as it will, we'll be gay and happy still," breaks forth from the soldiers as it were in harmony with the elements. There is manhood here; there is fidelity around these camp fires, and how sad the fact that there are men in America who would be loath to acknowledge it.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 279-80

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Daniel L. Ambrose: Friday, November 25, 1864

This morning we move early; pass through Irwinsville about noon. This was once a very beautiful town, but now lying in ashes. The roads are better to-day; we march twenty five miles and go into camp at five o'clock P. M. Our rations are now very short, and we are compelled to subsist chiefly upon the country.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 280

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, November 29, 1864

We are still in the pine barrens of Georgia; darkness is now hovering around us. The troops are all on half rations, forage is scarce. We are late going into camp to-night, but the troops are all in fine spirits this evening. All seem confident that success with its glories will fall around this army.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 281

Saturday, February 24, 2024

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

About sundown the shelling ceased, and nearly all of us returned to camp to endeavor to sleep, as we had been up all the night preceding unloading a corn boat. We had all got comfortably settled for the enjoyment of that sweet restorer of tired nature, when the whole fleet of mortar boats, ships-of-the-line, and I do not know how many gun-boats, turned loose their storm of iron hail into our midst without giving any warning. The effect on soldiers suddenly aroused from sleep can be imagined. We sprang to our feet, and hardly taking time to draw on our coats, took to our heels in search of shelter. Indeed it was enough to make the stoutest heart quake to hear the shells hurtling over our heads and the fragments crashing through the timber or ploughing up the earth at our feet. I started to the trenches to get with my company, which had been left on picket, but as I had to go through the thickest of the fire to get there, I backed out after going several hundred yards, and made for the shelter of a large tree in a swamp near by; but found five men crouched down behind it; tried another with a like result, and another and another, and found all "full;" concluded that the front seats were all taken or reserved for the officers. Saw a wagoner driving his team through the thickest of the shells and observed that the mules took it quite easy; concluded that a soldier was as good as a mule and emulating their unconcern, I made for the river bank, where I got a good position high and dry, and watched closely the progress of the fight. I enjoyed the grandeur of the scene to the fullest extent.

Simultaneously with the opening of the mortar boats, the men-of-war and gun-boats attempted to run past our batteries, which one of them, a large steamship, succeeded in doing notwithstanding the terrible fire which was poured into her. It is said that she would have surrendered if our men had ceased firing upon her. Two others attempted to follow in her wake, but one of them was forced to retire badly crippled, and the other was set on fire by a hot shot from one of our guns, when her crew abandoned her, and she burned to the water's edge. She drifted down with the current, and a tremendous explosion a few hours later told that she had blown up. Others of their craft are supposed to have suffered considerably. After a hot engagement of two hours and a half, the firing ceased and the enemy withdrew. Our loss in the whole bombardment, is, so far as I can learn, five killed and wounded, while the enemy's loss must have amounted to hundreds, as nearly every shot from our guns took effect. From some of the crew of the burnt vessel who were picked up this morning, we learn that nearly all of her men, over three hundred in number, were either killed, burnt or drowned; only a few swam to the shore. Our batteries sustained no damage whatever. Taken altogether we came off well, and if they are not satisfied that they can't take this place, let them come again. The vessel which passed last night was lying in plain view this morning, and firing signal-guns as though she would like to get back to her consorts below, which are also in view today.

The train from Clinton, La., came in this morning at an unusual hour, bringing the sick from the hospital, and reported that the Federal cavalry were near that place in strong force. If this is true, and we can't get the Yankee ship from above, our supplies are cut off, as we have but limited stores of subsistence here. So that if the siege is prolonged for some time, we may expect to undergo all the pangs of hunger; we are now, and have been for weeks, living on half rations of meal and pork. We now calculate on living on half an ear of corn per man, before this place is given up. To-day we have been allowed to live in peace up to the present hour, 2 P.M. We are cooking rations, expecting to be sent to the ditches again to-night.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 125-7

Tuesday, February 20, 2024

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, August 29, 1862

AT READVILLE.

A busy day for Co. E we have been ordered to camp. Each man was told to carry rations enough for two meals. We formed company for the first time, out of doors, on the Boylston Street mall marched to the Boston and Providence Depot, and after hand-shaking with our friends, went aboard the cars, arriving at Readville, ten miles out, at four o clock and here the troubles and tribulations of many a fine young man began. We found that either the regiment had come too soon or the carpenters had been lazy, for only three of the ten barracks were roofed, and some were not even boarded in, so while the carpenters went at work outside, we went at it inside, putting up and fixing the bunks.

About sunset, we saw a load of straw on the way to our barracks at first we supposed it was for bedding for horses, but we were green. It was to take the place of hair mattresses. Could it be that Uncle Samuel proposed that we should sleep in the straw (I remember when a youngster, of going to Brighton, to see the soldiers just home from the Mexican war, they had straw in their tents to sleep on. I little thought then, that I should be jumping upon the wheels of a wagon, tugging for straw enough for a bed, but such was the fact,) straw was used, but for a very little while by most of us.

After our first supper (and a gay picnic one it was) in this wilderness, we sang songs, told stories, formed new, and found old acquaintances, until after eight o’clock. Then for the first time in camp, we heard “Fall in Co. E;” the roll was called, and it was found that of the one hundred and twenty-five names ninty-nine had reported. Our captain made a little speech, to which of course we did not reply and then for bed. We had (that is the quiet ones) made up our minds for a good night’s rest, so as to be all right for the arduous duties of the morrow. There were some however, who thought noise and confusion the first law of a soldier. It was late, and not until after several visits from the officers that the boys decided to quiet down.

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. 5-6

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, August 30, 1862

Our first morning in camp. We were rudely awakened and dragged from our bunks at six o’clock, very few being used to such early hours, except perhaps on 4th of July, and were expected to be on the parade ground before our eyes were fairly open.

My advice is if you ever enlist again, start with buckle or congress boots, or none at all, don’t wear laced ones. Why Thereby hangs a tale. One man who wore laced boots was late, consequently had to fall in at the foot of the column. In a minute or two, around came the adjutant and some other officer, who wanted a man for guard. The man who was late at roll-call, was detailed of course. He went without a word was posted on the edge of a pond his orders being “Keep this water from being defiled, allow no privates to bathe here, let only the officers bathe and the cooks draw water to cook with.” The orders were fulfilled, but the poor guard was forgotten, and paced up and mostly down (as it was a pleasant grassy sward,) till eleven o clock. That was his first experience of guard duty, and he always owed a grudge to the sergeant of that guard and his laced boots.

Meanwhile, the company, left standing in the street, with their towels, combs, &c., proceeded to the water, where the pride of many a family got down on his knees, and went through the farce of a toilet, and then back to breakfast.

To-day we have been busy cleaning up and getting ready for our friends from home. It has been as novel a day as last night was new, it is a great change, but we will conquer this, and probably worse.

Our friends began to arrive about three o clock, and by supper-time the barracks were well filled, many remaining to supper so shawls and blankets were spread upon the ground, and we gave them a sample of our food. The coffee was good but so hot, and having no saucer with which to cool the beverage, we had to leave it till the last course. Our plates were plated with tin, but very shallow, and as bean soup was our principal course we had some little trouble in engineering it from the cook s quarters to our tables. We must not forget the bread, it was made by the State, and by the looks, had been owned by the State since the Mexican war. We had never seen the like, and begged to be excused from enduring much of it at a time. (We afterwards found no occasion to grumble at our food, for as you may remember, we were looked after well during our whole service. We had as good rations as any one could wish, but here, within ten miles of home, we felt that this was rough on the boys.)

For a week, little was done but feed and drill us, to toughen us for the dim future, and the furloughs were granted very freely. We were soon astonished to find that we had for a surgeon, a man who meant business. Among other things, he thought government clothes were all that we needed, so spring and fall overcoats and fancy dry goods had to be bundled up and sent home. All our good things were cleaned out, everything was contraband excepting what the government

allowed. We had always thought it a free country, but this broke in on our individual ideas of personal freedom, and we began to think we were fast losing all trace of civil rights, and becoming soldiers pure and simple. Nothing could be brought into camp by our friends unless we could eat it before the next morning but goodies would come, and as we had to eat them, of course we were sick.

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. 6-7

Sunday, February 18, 2024

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop, May 3, 1864

In camp near Culpepper, Va.—Weather delightful. Rumors of marching tomorrow morning. Marching orders we have been expecting several days, but this is the first rumor for some time. It has been mysteriously quiet. If, instead of May and fine weather, we had had dead of winter, storm and mud, we would have been provoked with five or six rumors daily. So that's nothing; but we shall march soon. Usual drill forenoon and afternoon; march an hour under knapsack. Go to Culpepper with several for examination for commissions in negro regiments. At 5:30 o'clock drew one day's rations. This task is assigned me this week, for my company. At dark, orders for three days' more rations. Had a tedious task lasting until 9 p. m. Quartermaster is getting everything ready to leave and hinted we should move at 12 midnight. Got orders at 8 o'clock to strike tents, pack nothing unnecessary; build no fires. Everything soon ready; we are waiting, the boys are jolly, full of spirit. At 11 o'clock we marched—winter quarters again broken.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 22