Sunday, 5th.—Went over to river; saw about one hundred boats drawn up in front of town; among them several gunboats. Talked with a Federal soldier, Rufus Wells, who once lived at Ringgold.

(Note: picture is of an unidentified Confederate soldier.)

Sunday, July 5. Like most other Sabbaths in the army, so was this; all day busy cleaning up the camp ground, tearing down the board shanties which former occupants had erected and using the material for flooring in our tents. We had our Fourth of July dinner today; bean soup, hoe cake and lemonade. Hill’s Point is not a point in the river, as the stream here runs straight, but is a bluff some 25 feet higher than the river and about 20 rods wide. It is the terminus of the table-land beyond, and is formed by wide, deep ravines on either side which run back and soon ascend to the level of the table-land. Heretofore the enemy had a habit of running batteries down here and intercepting the boats coming up the river, forming a sort of blockade, causing our gunboats to waste right smart of ammunition, or necessitating the marching of troops across the country from Newbern to drive them out. During the siege last spring, they had a powerful battery here which caused Gen. Foster a heap of trouble. Since then he has occupied it himself. This is an intrenched camp, sporting three brass six-pounder field pieces. When or by whom these works were built is to me unknown, but they look like the work of the enemy. They contain a great number of angles; commencing on the edge of the bluff next the river, they run several rods along the edge of the ravines, then cross in front of the camp, and from any part of the line can be got direct, cross and enfilading fires. The three guns are in battery on the flanks and center. Major Atwood is in command, and in his absence, Capt. Foss of company F. Such is a description of our present, abiding place.

JULY 5th.—This morning the wires refused to work, being cut, no doubt, in Hanover County.

The presence of the enemy in this vicinity, I think, since they refuse to fight, is designed to prevent us from sending more troops into Pennsylvania. I trust the President will think of this matter, if he is well enough; some of his generals here are incapable of thinking at all.

We have just received intelligence of a great battle at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. I have not heard the day; but the news was brought by flag of truce boat to City Point last night. The Yankee papers, I am told, claim a victory, but acknowledge a loss of five or six generals, among them Meade, commander-in-chief (vice Hooker), mortally wounded. But we still held the town, and “actions speak louder than words.”

More troops are marching up into HanoverCounty.

July 5, 1863, Savannah Republican (Georgia)

            The Chicora Importing and Exporting Company of Charleston have recently brought on their steamers from Nassau, about twenty cases of Scriptures for the Bible Societies of the Confederate States, of South Carolina and of Virginia.–the freight on which amounted to about $10,000.  This sum the Company has generously remitted to these Societies, and have thus brought the entire religious public into their debt./p>

4th. All aroused by the booming of cannon, Law’s Battery. We understood it. 12th R. I. got out under arms. At 4 A. M. marched to town and got breakfast preparatory to a fight. Returned to camp. Went to the 12th and drew 3 days’ rations; returned some to 1st Ky. Train came in–our boys. A very heavy thunder shower, wet through. At 5 P. M. orders came to march with 3 days’ rations. Drew one more and issued three. Got off at 8 P. M. Thede waits till morning on account of his horse. Marched 10 miles and camped at 2 A. M. Morgan has succeeded in getting into Ky. and now the drama is to see if he can get out or whether he is to succeed in his raid. We are all anxious to overtake him and if possible to capture or annihilate him. Letter from Minnie.

Saturday, 4th–A despatch came that Vicksburg has been taken and that Pemberton has made an unconditional surrender to General Grant. The terms include the surrender of his army of twenty-seven thousand men, one hundred siege guns, one hundred and twenty-eight field guns, and eighty thousand small arms.^[1] Early in the day the rebels drove some of our skirmishers in, but in the afternoon we commenced to shell them and they withdrew. They surrendered soon after. Our company went out on picket this evening. This has been a hard Fourth of July; I don’t want to see another such a Fourth.

[1] There were no provisions to give up and General Grant Issued Government rations to all the prisoners taken.—A. G. D.

July 4.–The terrible battle of Gettysburg brings to Canandaigua sad news of our soldier boys of the 126th Regiment. Colonel Sherrill was instantly killed, also Captains Wheeler and Herendeen, Henry Willson and Henry P. Cook. Captain Richardson was wounded.

Saturday, 4th.—6 A. M., Federals fired salute. 9:30 A. M., white flags raised on our works; suppose we have been surrendered. 12 M., marched out and stacked our arms in front of our works, leaving our regimental colors with the guns; we then marched back to camp; Yankees immediately put guards in our ditches, and we are now prisoners of war. Treating us very kindly, good many of our boys going out to Federal camp, with one Yankee guard to six or seven prisoners, when the Federals soldiers gave them what rations they could carry back; and so the private soldiers fed us for two days, until rations could be issued to us.

(Note: picture is of an unidentified Confederate soldier.)

Hill’s Point.

July 3. Received orders for the right wing, consisting of companies K, I, F, C and B to break camp and be ready to march at an hour’s notice. At noon the baggage was all on the wagons and we awaited orders. At 1 p. m., we were ordered into town, and companies F, C and B went aboard the little steamer Mystic, and companies K and I went aboard the Washington Irving, bound for Washington on the Pamlico river.

Left Newbern at 4 p. m., and had a fine sail down the river and through the sound, turning into the Pamlico about dark, and running up to within a few miles of Washington, where we anchored for the night. Early the next morning, we reached our destination. Soon after we were ordered back down the river, and companies K and I landed at Rodman’s point, four miles below town, while the Mystic kept on and landed F, C and B at Hill’s Point, three miles lower down, relieving a New York battery company which was on duty there.

Our first business was to tote our baggage and camp equipage up the bluff, and under a broiling sun we worked hard, at least I thought it was hard. I carried my knapsack up and was so exhausted I thought I had better celebrate the rest of the day. I started out to explore the surroundings, and soon my eye rested on a board shanty at the foot of the bluff. I entered and found a noble scion of African descent; he was running a restaurant, his [continue reading…]

July 4.—Our celebration of this day is more serious than in days gone by. Our military have no time for dress-parades and barbecues. The gentlemen could not get home yesterday evening; the trains were all used for carrying soldiers to the bridge on this railroad just above us, upon which the Yankees are making demonstrations. The morning papers report that General D. H. Hill had a skirmish near Tunstall’s Station on Thursday evening, and repulsed the enemy. Nothing from our armies in Pennsylvania or Vicksburg.

July 4, Eleven o’ Clock P.M.—Heavy musketry to-night, for two hours, at the bridge above this place. It has ceased, and we hope that the enemy are driven back.

Mr. –– came home this evening; the other gentlemen are absent. We are going to bed, feeling that we are in God’s hands. The wires are cut between this and “The Junction,” and there is every indication that the Yankees are near. The telegraph operator has gone off, and great anxiety is felt about the village. There are no Government stores here of any sort; I trust that the Yankees know that, and will not think us worth the trouble of looking after.

July 4th. This is the eighty-seventh anniversary of our national independence—a day dear to every true American heart on account of the event it commemorates; but since no salute has been fired by us in honor of the day, and Jack looks rather crest-fallen in the phiz on that account, still we have far more and greater reasons for being of the opposite cast of countenance than we had one year ago to-day. Let us look back into the past, as long ago as a twelvemonth since, and see what was our situation and condition then, and what our prospects of success in struggles about to take place for the supremacy of our arms. By reference to the author’s remarks of what occurred on the Fourth of July, 1862, one year ago to-day, you will please note the fact that Vicksburg, although having withstood, about three weeks since, a terrific naval bombardment from our vessels, still defied our powers. Now the tables are turned; General Grant, in command of U. S. forces, has invested the place and cut off supplies reaching same for the rebel army by railroad from Jackson, Miss., and a surrender of this rebel stronghold is looked for at an early day; in fact, I must say it was not Grant, even Unconditional Surrender Grant, or any other general, who has been mainly instrumental in bringing about this condition of things, although he has performed, as I have before stated, no mean part in the programme of action, but this ship, under the superintendence of Admiral Farragut, by taking the lead of the fleet in the experiment of running the rebel batteries of Port Hudson, on the ever-to-be-remembered night of the 14th March last, and by the mercy of Almighty God, being fortunate enough to pass safely through that fiery ordeal with so little loss of life, with a gunboat (tender) lashed to her port side; also a few days afterwards, another battery of the enemy at Grand Gulf on our way up the river to Warrenton, to have communication with Major-General Grant and Acting Rear Admiral Porter, and again on our return, permitted to repass the above-mentioned battery at Grand Gulf with little loss of life and injury to ship, arriving off the mouth of Red river, which it had been previously decided upon we should blockade for the purpose of cutting off supplies from being transported by rebel steamers out of this stream to the rebel army at Port Hudson and Vicksburg, and aiding General Banks with his forces coming round from New Orleans by way of Berwick’s Bay. Alexandria, and Atchafalaya river to get in rear of Port Hudson. While Admiral Farragut has rigidly enforced the blackade of the mouth of Red river, commenced by him with but two vessels, the Hartford and Albatross soon after the passage of the rebel fortifications at Port Hudson, cutting off relief from Texas reaching them by transportation down and out of this channel, or that of their fellows at Port Hudson, and starvation is now staring them in the face, making an early surrender of both places highly probable.

July 4th, Daily Citizen (Vicksburg, Mississippi)

            Two days bring about great changes.  The banner of the Union floats over Vicksburg.  Gen. Grant has “caught the rabbit;” He has dined in Vicksburg, and he did bring his dinner with him.  The “Citizen” lives to see it.  For the last time it appears on “Wall-paper.”  No more will it eulogize the luxury of mule-meat and fricassed kitten–urge Southern warriors to such diets never-more.  This is the last wall-paper edition, and is, excepting this note, from the types as we found them.  It will be valuable hereafter as a curiosity.

JULY 4th.—The Department Guard (my son with them) were marched last night back to the city, and out to Meadow Bridge, on the Chickahominy, some sixteen miles! The clerks, I understand, complain of bad meat (two or three ounces each) and mouldy bread ; and some of them curse the authorities for fraudulent deception, as it was understood they would never be marched beyond the city defenses. But they had no alternative—the Secretaries would report the names of all who did not volunteer. Most of the poor fellows have families dependent on their salaries for bread—being refugees from their comfortable homes, for the cause of independence. If removed, their wives and little children, or brothers and sisters, must perish. They would be conscribed, and receive only $12 per month.

My friend Jacques did not return to the company yesterday, after all, although I saw him get into an ambulance with a basket of food. He got out again, sending the basket to Mr. K., the young chief of the bureau, and Judge Campbell allowed him to remain.

Mr. Myers the lawyer is much with Judge Campbell, working for his Jew clients, who sometimes, I am told, pay $1000 each to be got out of the army, and as high as $500 for a two months’ detail, when battles are to be fought. Mr. M. thinks he has law for all he does.

A letter from Gen. D. H. Hill shows that it was his intention to bring on a battle on the 2d inst., but the enemy fled. It was only a feint below; but we may soon hear news from Hanover County.

Col. Gorgas (ordnance) writes that as his men are marched out to defend the city, he can’t send much ammunition to Gen. Lee!

A letter from Lieut.-Gen. E. Kirby Smith, dated Jane 15th, shows he was at Shreveport, La., at that date.

The poor militia were allowed to return to their homes to-day; but an hour after the tocsin sounded, and they were compelled to assemble and march again. This is the work of the Governor, and the Secretary of War says there was no necessity for it, as Confederate troops here now can defend the city, if attacked.

From the diary of Osborn H. Oldroyd

            THE FOURTH OF JULY! The siege is at last ended. Behold the white flag now waving over the rebel ramparts. Vicksburg has at length surrendered. Speed the glad news to our loved ones at the North, who, during our long trial, have helped us with their prayers. Speed it to the entire forces of the Union, that they may all take courage and move again.

            We are all full of rejoicing, as the event will no doubt prove a death-blow to the rebellion in the Southwest. Vicksburg has been the boast of the enemy, who thought it to be impregnable, and they confidently defied the Army of the West to take it. But by the untiring energy, skill and forecast of our gallant leader, U. S. Grant, aided by the willing and brave hearts about him, Vicksburg has been taken, and over it the stars and stripes now float proudly in all their majestic beauty. How glad I am that I have been one of those who have endured the trials requisite to plant our banner there. And while rejoicing over our success, let us not forget those who have died on these fields of honor. While we surviving raise Liberty’s ensign over Vicksburg, let us remember the graves at Raymond and Champion Hills. And in after years, when we meet to refresh the memory of soldier days, let our dead here around Vicksburg never be forgotten. Let us think of them as standing guard over our dearly-won prize, until the final roll-call, when each shall be “present” or “accounted for.”

                        “They struggled and fell, their life-blood staining
                                    The assaulting foeman’s hand;
                        And clasping freedom’s flag, sustaining,
                                    Cried, God save our native land.
                        Let angels spread their wings protecting;
                                    Let sweetest flowers ever bloom;
                        And let green bays, our faith reflecting,
                                    Mark each martyr’s sacred tomb.”

            Now that the enemy have resigned possession of Vicksburg, I trust the wicked rebellion will not fail soon to near its end, when all our boys in blue will have leave, at will, to present arms to the girls they left behind them. A star heralding the coming peace already seems to twinkle in the sky. We rejoice not less over our triumph to-day because it was consummated upon the glorious Fourth. And while we rejoice for our country, we show no unworthy exultation over the fallen, to whom we extend the sympathy of victors. [continue reading…]

July SATURDAY 4, 1863

Vicksburgh, surrendered this morning¹ and an exulting foe, madened by success, imagines the Rebellion crushed—poor deluded fools—tis just begun. Tis God’s will you should prosper, and devastate our lovely land so far, and it may be even more than this, yet our faith is perfect. God will bless us. No matter how dim the Star of Liberty may grow, even in Months to come. We are content my Savior, thy will, not ours, be done. “Blessed is the man, whose trust is in thee.” God is our Sun and Shield, and we will yet come out victoriously free. My poor, poor Gratz where is he—what has he to brighten his hopes. Oh! my Savior, in thy mercy shield him, guide him from all temptation, protect him from disease and harm. And oh! my Father hasten the day which will make us twain. Do not permit me to make him an Idol. I can but tremble even now, with fear, for my deep and holy love. Oh! Gratz, Idol of my heart.

1. This entry was written at a later date and back-dated.  With the telegraph down, news of the fall of Vicksburg didn’t reach Memphis for several days, though there were certainly rumors.

July 4—Move corps hospital early to a barn three miles towards Fairfield. Bury Lieut. Connell and a man of the 4th N. C. Regiment. I wrote to the young man’s father, near Statesville, and told him I had buried his son. (At a Conference in Statesville, Dec. 1868, a lady called for me and told me her father, an old man too feeble to ride to town, asked her to come and find me and give his love to me, and thank me for what I had done for him. As we sat and wept, I felt a thousand times paid for my labor and my ten-cent postage stamp.)

Col. Parker and Bennett start for Virginia in ambulance.

July 4th, 1863.—It is evening. All is still. Silence and night are once more united. I can sit at the table in the parlor and write. Two candles are lighted. I would like a dozen. We have had wheat supper and wheat bread once more. H. is leaning back in the rocking-chair; he says:

“G., it seems to me I can hear the silence, and feel it too. It wraps me like a soft garment; how else can I express this peace?”

But I must write the history of the last twenty-four hours. About five yesterday afternoon, Mr. J., H.’s assistant, who, having no wife to keep him in, dodges about at every change and brings us the news, came to H. and said:

“Mr. L., you must both come to our cave to-night. I hear that to-night the shelling is to surpass anything yet. An assault will be made in front and rear. You know we have a double cave; there is room for you in mine, and mother and sister will make a place for Mrs. L. Come right up; the ball will open about seven.”

We got ready, shut up the house, told Martha to go to the church again if she preferred it to the cellar, and walked up to Mr. J.’s. When supper was eaten, all secure, and the ladies in their cave night toilet, it was just six, and we crossed the street to the cave opposite. As I crossed a mighty shell flew screaming over my head. It was the last thrown into Vicksburg. We lay on our pallets waiting for the expected roar, but no sound came except the chatter from the neighboring caves, and at last we dropped asleep. I woke at dawn stiff. A draught from the funnel-shaped opening had been blowing on me all night. Every one was expressing surprise at the quiet. We started for home and met the editor of the “Daily Citizen.” H. said:

“This is strangely quiet, Mr. L.”

“Ah, sir,” shaking his head gloomily, “I’m afraid the last shell has been thrown into Vicksburg.”

“Why do you fear so?”

“It is surrender. At six last evening a man went down to the river and blew a truce signal; the shelling stopped at once.”

When I entered the kitchen a soldier was there waiting for the bowl of scrapings. (They took turns for it.)

“Good-morning, madam,” he said; “we won’t bother you much longer. We can’t thank you enough for letting us come, for getting this soup boiled has helped some of us to keep alive, but now all this is over.”

“Is it true about the surrender?”

“Yes; we have had no official notice, but they are paroling out at the lines now, and the men in Vicksburg will never forgive Pemberton. An old granny! A child would have known better than to shut men up in this cursed trap to starve to death like useless vermin.” His eyes flashed with an insane fire as he spoke. “Haven’t I seen my friends carted out three or four in a box, that had died of starvation! Nothing else, madam! Starved to death because we had a fool for a general.”

“Don’t you think you’re rather hard on Pemberton? He thought it his duty to wait for Johnston.”

“Some people may excuse him, ma’am, but we’ll curse him to our dying day. Anyhow, you’ll see the blue-coats directly.”

Breakfast dispatched, we went on the upper gallery. The street was deserted, save by a few people carrying home bedding from their caves. Among these was a group taking home a little creature, born in a cave a few days previous, and its wan-looking mother. About 11 o’clock a man in blue came sauntering along, looking about curiously. Then two followed him, then another.

“H., do you think these can be the Federal soldiers?”

“Why, yes; here come more up the street.”

Soon a group appeared on the court-house hill, and the flag began slowly to rise to the top of the staff. As the breeze caught it, and it sprang out like a live thing exultant, H. drew a long breath of contentment.

“Now I feel once more at home in my own country.”

In an hour more a grand rush of people set in toward the river,—foremost among them the gentleman who took our cave; all were flying as if for life.

“What can this mean, H.? Are the populace turning out to greet the despised conquerors?”

“Oh,” said H., springing up, “look! It is the boats coming around the bend.”

Truly, it was a fine spectacle to see that fleet of transports sweep around the curve and anchor in the teeth of the batteries so lately vomiting fire. Presently Mr. J. passed and called:

“Aren’t you coming, Mr. L.? There’s provisions on those boats: coffee and flour. ‘First come, first served,’ you know.”

“Yes, I’ll be there pretty soon,” replied H.

But now the new-comers began to swarm into our yard, asking H. if he had coin to sell for greenbacks. He had some, and a little bartering went on with the new greenbacks. H. went out to get provisions. When he returned a Confederate officer came with him. H. went to the box of Confederate money and took out four hundred dollars, and the officer took off his watch, a plain gold one, and laid it on the table, saying, “We have not been paid, and I must get home to my family.” H. added a five-dollar greenback to the pile, and wished him a happy meeting. The townsfolk continued to dash through the streets with their arms full, canned goods predominating. Towards five Mr. J. passed again. “Keep on the lookout,” he said; “the army of occupation is coming along,” and in a few minutes the head of the column appeared. What a contrast to the suffering creatures we had seen so long were these stalwart, well-fed men, so splendidly set up and accoutered! Sleek horses, polished arms, bright plumes,—this was the pride and panoply of war. Civilization, discipline, and order seemed to enter with the measured tramp of those marching columns; and the heart turned with throbs of added pity to the worn men in gray, who were being blindly dashed against this embodiment of modern power. And now this “silence that is golden” indeed is over all, and my limbs are unhurt, and I suppose if I were Catholic, in my fervent gratitude, I would hie me with a rich offering to the shrine of “our Lady of Mercy.”

Note: To protect Mrs. Miller’s job as a teacher in post-civil war New Orleans, her diary was published anonymously, edited by G. W. Cable, names were changed and initials were generally used instead of full names—and even the initials differed from the real person’s initials. (Read Dora Richards Miller’s biographical sketch.)

3rd. Mail came in afternoon. Merely a paper and note through Lu. The Proclamation also by Ampt. Shows a mean spirit, considerable wit. In the evening orders came to be saddled. Stood all night. Two detachments went out. One under Seward and another under a Ky. officer. Co. B in quite an engagement at Columbia. Lt. Bills slightly wounded, one man wounded in hip, another missing and one killed. Morgan across at Burksville with 4000, advancing seemingly towards Lebanon. Expecting orders. (This was the start of Gen. John Morgan’s ill-fated raid through Ky., Ind. and Ohio.)

Friday, 3d–We received orders to be ready to march at a moment’s warning. Getting the orders we started about 10 o’clock at night for Messenger’s ford on the lower Big Black river, about four miles from our bivouac, and reached the ford at midnight. We are to stop Johnston from crossing the river, as it is thought he is making an effort to cross at the ford to strike Sherman’s right flank.

July 3rd, 1863.—Another telegram brings more news from Gettysburg—such awful news—death and destruction and perhaps defeat. God help our poor country. Holding my breath I listen and tears come, though I try to be calm. So many of our brave men, who went forward can never come back. Oh, this horrible, horrible WAR!

Susan Bradford is 17 years old when this entry was made.

July 3d. At seven A. M., sent some ammunition ashore to our naval battery; at ten thirty, Mr. Jas. B. Kimball, chief-engineer, left the ship, being detached and ordered North; at three P. M., steamer Bee came down from Bayou Sara and communicated with us. Firing in rear of Port Hudson still going on.

Friday, 3.—Firing ceased, except the mortars over the river; we have orders not to fire any more until further orders. Don’t know what it is for, but think the city will be surrendered soon. 3 p. M., firing began again and continued until 5 P. M. when it again ceased. Issued some mule beef to us this evening. Did not relish it, of course. Think of old, poor mules that had been starving during the siege, until they could hardly stand—and very likely many of them could not—being eaten’; I think I would rather eat my old shoes.

(Note: picture is of an unidentified Confederate soldier.)

July 3.—The scarcity of blank-books, and the very high prices, make them unattainable to me; therefore I have determined to begin another volume of my Diary on some nice wrapping-paper which I happen to have; and though not very pleasant to write on, yet it is one of the least of my privations.

We are still worried by reports that the Yankees are very near us, and we are constantly expecting them to raid upon Ashland. We have a good force at “The Junction,” and at the bridge just above us, which they may respect, as they are dreadfully afraid of our forces.

Spent yesterday in the hospital; the wounded are getting on well. The city was put into a blaze of excitement by the report that General Dix was marching on it from the White House. I dare say they think that General Lee has left it undefended, in which surmise they are vastly mistaken. Our troops seem to be walking over Pennsylvania without let or hindrance. They have taken possession of Chambersburg, Carlisle, and other smaller towns. They surrendered without firing a gun. I am glad to see that General Lee orders his soldiers to respect private property; but it will be difficult to make an incensed soldiery, whose houses have in many instances been burned, crops wantonly destroyed, horses stolen, negroes persuaded off, hogs and sheep shot down and left in the field in warm weather—it will be difficult to make such sufferers remember the Christian precept of returning good for evil. The soldiers in the hospital seem to think that many a private torch will be applied “just for revenge.” It was in vain that I quoted to them, “Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.” One stoutly maintained that he would like to go North “just to burn two good houses: one in return for my own house on Mississippi River; the other for that of my brother-in-law, both of which they burned just after landing from their boat, with no pretence at an excuse for it; and when I think of my wife and children homeless, I feel as if I could set all Yankeedom in a blaze.” Poor fellow! he became so excited that he arose in his bed, as if impatient to be off and at his work of vengeance. I am glad to hear that quantities of horses and fat cattle are driven into Virginia.

July 2nd, 1863.—Yesterday fighting began on Pennsylvania soil. The army of Northern Virginia, the bravest army in the history of wars, may, even now be struggling with the foe. Oh, how horrible it is to know that those you love are in such danger! There must be aching hearts at the North as well as here. I feel for all who suffer and it seems to me the bond of brotherhood, which once united the two sections, ought to make us kinder in our judgments; more merciful in our actions. But war is a monster and destroys charity.

Susan Bradford is 17 years old when this entry was made.