Friday, 22d–No news of importance. The rebels are not making any attacks on us, but they keep us busy watching them.

22nd. Friday. Slept rather late. F. Brooks back, looking very sleek. Went to the river and washed myself thoroughly. Changed my clothes and rested as well as possible. The command came in. Boys seem hardy, though the trip has been tough. All the boys are exasperated that they did not catch the enemy. News that Fremont is to have command here, good. We to go home. Wrote a middling long letter to Fannie Andrews. Wrote while Brownell read in “Woman in White.” Boys issued rations for five days. Naturally lazed a while myself.

Friday, 22d.—Heavy skirmishing on our right; some think there is about to be a general engagement.

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

AUGUST 22d.—Saw Vice-President Stephens to-day, as cordial and enthusiastic as ever.

August 21st.

Miriam and mother are going to Baton Rouge in a few hours, to see if anything can be saved from the general wreck. From the reports of the removal of the Penitentiary machinery, State Library, Washington Statue, etc., we presume that that part of the town yet standing is to be burnt like the rest. I think, though, that mother has delayed too long. However, I dreamed last night that we had saved a great deal, in trunks; and my dreams sometimes come true. Waking with that impression, I was surprised, a few hours after, to hear mother’s sudden determination. But I also dreamed I was about to marry a Federal officer! That was in consequence of having answered the question, whether I would do so, with an emphatic “Yes! if I loved him,” which will probably ruin my reputation as a patriot in this parish. Bah! I am no bigot! – or fool either. . . .

Thursday, 21st–There is one train a day over the railroad. It is a combination train, and comes in at 6 p. m. and departs at 8 o’clock in the morning. The train does not run at night for fear the track might be torn up, as the rebels are so near.

Some very hot weather now. We get all the fruit that we want here, and have plenty of other rations at this camp. We have fresh pork and sweet potatoes. The potatoes we either boil in kettles or bake in ashes.

21st. Thursday. Went with two Company F men and got breakfast at a farmhouse. Some of the boys had had nothing to eat for 36 hours. Ham and corn bread. Borrowed 20 cents and paid. They asked nothing but we preferred to pay them. Major Burnett, with detail of five started for Fort Scott. Several of us contrived to go too. Got breakfast out three miles, milk and honey. A man came up. We frightened him so he swore he was secesh and made himself ridiculous generally for a union man. Had a secesh horse, taking care of it. Brought him in. In the morning put a rope around a boy’s neck and made him take the oath with some meaning. Letters from Minnie, Melissa and Fannie.

AUGUST 21st.—Some apprehensions are felt by a few for the safety of this city, as it is supposed that all the troops have been withdrawn. This is not so, however. From ten to fifteen thousand men could be concentrated here in twenty-four hours. Richmond is not in half the danger that Washington is.

21st.–Camped last night in sight of Big Bethel, and left this morning at 5 o’clock. After a brisk march of four hours, we reached Hampton, (12 miles.) As we reached the summit of a ridge and the Roads, and the shipping two miles off suddenly burst upon the view, how intensely did I realize the feeling of a scarred leader in a ten year’s war, when, on his return he caught the first glimpse of his native land–

“Italiam, primus conolamat Achates.”

Lynchburg, August 20.—Mr. _______ and myself arrived here last night, after a most fatiguing trip, by Clarksville, Buffalo Springs, then to Wolfs Trap Station on the Danville road, and on to the Southside Railroad. The cars were filled with soldiers on furlough. It was pleasant to see how cheerful they were. Poor fellows! it is wonderful when we consider what the next battle may bring forth. They were occupied discussing the late battle at Cedar Run, between General Jackson and a portion of Pope’s army, commanded by Banks. It was a very fierce fight, and many casualties on both sides; but we won the day—the Lord be praised! Lynchburg is full of hospitals, to which the ladies are very attentive; and they are said to be very well kept. I have been to a very large one to-day, in which our old home friends, Mrs. R. and Miss E. M., are matrons. Every thing looked beautifully neat and comfortable. As a stranger, and having so much to do for my patient at home, I find I can do nothing for the soldiers, but knit for them all the time, and give them a kind word in passing. I never see one without feeling disposed to extend my hand, and say, “God bless you.”

August 20th.

Last evening, after hard labor at pulling molasses candy, needing some relaxation after our severe exertions, we determined to have some fun, though the sun was just setting in clouds as watery as New Orleans milk, and promised an early twilight. All day it had been drizzling, but that was nothing; so Anna Badger, Miriam, and I set off, through the mud, to get up the little cart to ride in, followed by cries from the elder ladies of “Girls! Soap is a dollar and a half a bar! Starch a dollar a pound! Take up those skirts!” We had all started stiff and clean, and it did seem a pity to let them drag; so up they went –you can imagine how high when I tell you my answer to Anna’s question as to whether hers were in danger of touching the mud, was, “ Not unless you sit down.”

The only animal we could discover that was not employed was a poor old pony, most appropriately called “Tom Thumb,” and him we seized instantly, together with a man to harness him. We accompanied him from the stable to the quarter where the cart was, through mud and water, urging him on with shouts and cries, and laughing until we could laugh no longer, at the appearance of each. The cart had been hauling wood, but that was nothing to us. In we tumbled, and with a driver as diminutive as the horse, started off for Mr. Elder’s, where we picked up all the children to be found, and went on. All told, we were twelve, drawn by that poor horse, who seemed at each step about to undergo the ham process, and leave us his hind quarters, while he escaped with the fore ones and harness. I dare say we never enjoyed a carriage as much, though each was holding a muddy child. Riding was very fine; but soon came the question, “How shall we turn?” – which was not so easily solved, for neither horse nor boy understood it in the least. Every effort to describe a circle brought us the length of the cart farther up the road, and we promised fair to reach Bayou Sara before morning, at that rate. At last, after fruitless efforts to dodge under the harness and escape, pony came to a standstill, and could not be induced to move. The children took advantage of the pause to tumble out, but we sat still. Bogged, and it was very dark already! Would n’t we get it when we got home! Anna groaned, “Uncle Albert!” Miriam laughed, “the General!” I sighed, “Mrs. Carter!” We knew what we deserved; and darker and darker it grew, and pony still inflexible! [continue reading…]

Wednesday, 20th–Nothing of importance.

August 20. – The 126th Regiment, just organized, was mustered into service at Camp Swift, Geneva. Those that I know who belong to it are Colonel E. S. Sherrill, Lieutenant Colonel James M. Bull, Captain Charles A. Richardson, Captain Charles M. Wheeler, Captain Ten Eyck Munson, Captain Orin G. Herendeen, Surgeon Dr Charles S. Hoyt, Hospital Steward Henry T. Antes, First Lieutenant Charles Gage, Second Lieutenant Spencer F. Lincoln, First Sergeant Morris Brown, Corporal Hollister N. Grimes, Privates Darius Sackett, Henry Willson, Oliver Castle, William Lamport.

Dr Hoyt wrote home, “God bless the dear ones we leave behind; and while you try to perform the duties you owe to each other, we will try to perform ours.”

We saw by the papers that the volunteers of the regiment before leaving camp at Geneva allotted over $15,000 of their monthly pay to their families and friends at home. One soldier sent this telegram to his wife, as the regiment started for the front: “God bless you. Hail Columbia. Kiss the baby. Write soon.” A volume in ten words.

I Get On The Retired List.

August 20. Until recently I have been quite a popular commander of Sunday church parties. The boys would get up their parties and get me a pass to take them into town to church. I would take them in and, halting on some convenient corner, would deliver myself of a little speech. I would say, “Boys, I have always believed in the largest tolerance in matters of religion and politics, and as much as I should like to have you attend church with me, if you have any preferences you are at liberty to enjoy them; far be it from me to impose my authority on your feelings or conscience. I shall expect you on the corner at the appointed time that we may report back in camp in season for dress parade.” Now, if they couldn’t have had a tolerably good time under those conditions, it certainly was no fault of mine. But this, like every other good thing, could not always last. One Sunday afternoon, when we gathered on the corner, one of the party failed to put in an appearance. After waiting beyond a reasonable time, he was defaulted and we returned to camp. About night he came in, showing unmistakable signs of having been on the hardest kind of fatigue duty. Instead of going to his quarters as he was told to, he thought it was his duty to interview the captain. That interview resulted in a court martial, before which I was ordered to appear. I was asked numerous questions, all of which I answered to the best of my knowledge and belief, and my evidence not only convicted the prisoner but reflected somewhat on myself, for in summing it up, they somehow fixed it up in such a way as to make it appear that I was in the practice of taking parties into town on Sundays, ostensibly to church and then letting them go wherever they pleased, and inquired of me if that was not about the true solution of the problem. Wishing to avoid controversy, I assented. I was then told that I could retire from that august presence, a privilege of which I availed myself immediately, but what I noticed as being rather singular, after that little interview I was in command of no more Sunday parties.

Wednesday, 20th.—Company F sent out as reserve pickets. Feds made as though they would charge our picket line with cavalry.

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

AUGUST 20th.—We have now a solution of the secret of Pope’s familiarity with the country. His guide and pilot is the identical Robt. Stewart who was sent here to the Provost Marshal—a prisoner. How did he get out? They say money did it.

Aug. 14th—Go to Female Institute Hospital and find no entry of the name of my Brother Grier, who died there during my visit to North Carolina. Find his valise, etc. Will send his brother for it. Col. May, of Georgia, says Brother Grier died between midnight and day, July 26, no one knowing when he died. Holy angels knew.

Aug. 15—Ride to see Regimental Work Squad with Chaplains Long, Moore and Hill.

Aug. 16—Morning in camp. Supper in Richmond, and return and hear Brother J. G. Barkley preach. (This dear man raised his children in Nash county North Carolina, and lived to be very old. Died April 16, 1896. He said to me in his house in 1887 or 1888: “Brother Betts, the happiest day in my life was one day in 1840, when I saw my oldest daughter marry a young man and start to Africa!” Glory to God for such religion!)

Sunday, Aug. 17—Brother Barkley preaches in morning and I in evening. Receive marching orders.

Aug. 19—Rise at 4 with orders to march to Gordonsville. Leave some sick in camp. Others, not able to march, start and have to fall out. Division passes through Richmond. I stop and buy flannel and overtake regiment six and one-half miles out. Sleep on ground.

Aug. 20—Rise at 4 and march. Night at Taylorsville. At 10 at night brigade called to arms and marched off—weary, weary. I remain on the ground praying for our soldiers.

20th.–These men, who were yesterday worn out and abused, who needed all the rest they could get, were ordered up this morning at half-past 2, to march at 4, and then, after being formed into line, were kept waiting till 6. The Surgeons dare not say, “General, permit me to suggest that this is rapidly exhausting the nervous energies of the men, and that last night, we had to leave over sixty, overcome by the fatigue of the day.” It would have been deemed insolent and insubordinate in a Surgeon to have suggested that the two hours which the soldiers spent on their feet, waiting for their officers to get ready, might have been spent with great benefit to their health and energies, in bed, and the Surgeons must be dumb and the men sick.

We are to-day passing over some of the places of our former defeats–Big and Little Bethel, and the localities of some of our unsuccessful skirmishes.

On the 14th of August–McClellan’s attempt to reach Richmond via the Chickahominy swamps having proved a disastrous failure–the transfer of the army to Washington began.

Lieutenant Robert Wilson of J. H.’s regiment wrote home at the time a letter which might easily have come from any regiment in the Army of the Potomac. “Six days’ march,” he says, “to Newport News, choking with dust, parched with thirst, melting by day and freezing by night, poorly fed and with nothing but the sky to cover us. You can judge of our exhausted condition when I tell you that six miles before we reached the camp at Newport News the 16th Regiment, N. Y. Vols., numbered only 184 men in the ranks, though men straggled in, so that there were 400 in the morning, and the 16th is no straggling regiment. Next day embarked on transports and arrived at Alexandria, sorrowful and humiliated when looking back over a year and finding ourselves on the same ground as then. The debris of the Grand Army had come back to its starting place with its ranks decimated, its men disspirited, its morale failing, while the thousands who sleep their last sleep on the Peninsula demand the cause of their sacrifice.”

19 August

       We have received a long letter from John giving an account of the 3 engagements in which he was in the Arkansas they were most brilliant and the vessel did wonderfully for the Machinery evidently was not of sufficient force to make the vessel effective. The Majestic way in which she moved was as fast as she could go. The end of this was naturally the destruction of the vessel. We are now most anxious to hear from John he sent us a drawing of the vessel and which he wishes photographed and we saw by the Papers that the last engagement of the poor Arkansas ended in her being blown up by her own crew they all escaped to the shore.—

       Mr & Mrs Vanderhorst are up here for change of air they remained a few days in the Village spent an evening with us, were at the Palmetoe house, and then to the Cherokee Springs. Arnoldus Vanderhorst has had a duel with Alfred Rhett, neither of them hurt, the bench of honor managing the affair.

Note: This letter–a document written in 1862–includes terms and topics that may be offensive to many today.   No attempt will be made to censor or edit 19th century material to today’s standards.

Tuscumbia, Ala., August 19, 1862.

Tis the old, old, story, burning railroad bridges, skirmishing between our scouts and theirs, etc. They opened on a new program by firing into a train, two days since, wounding five men only, though they put 200 shots into the engine and cars. They are burning cotton in very good style. Night before last eight fires were visible from our headquarters, and last night four. They destroyed about $300,000 in the two nights. They’re getting scared about their negroes, and are carrying them off to the mountains as fast as possible. The blacks are scrambling in this direction to a very lively tune. Over 100 came in on one road within the last 24 hours. About 50 can be used in a regiment to advantage, but I am thoroughly opposed to receiving any more than we have work for within our lines. You have no idea what a miserable, horrible-looking, degraded set of brutes these plantation hands are. Contempt and disgust only half express one’s feelings toward any man that will prate about the civilizing and christianizing influence of slavery. The most savage, copper savage, cannot be below these field hands in any brute quality. Let them keep their negroes though, for we surely don’t want our Northern States degraded by them, and they can’t do the Southerners any good after we get them driven a few degrees further down. These nigs that come in now, say that their masters were going to put them in the Southern Army as soldiers. I’m sure the Southerners are too smart for that, for a million of them aren’t worth 100 whites. General Paine is gobbling up these secesh here and starting them North kiting. How they are shaking in their boots. Paine is going to clean out the country and make it Union if there is nothing but desert left. There are a number of very fine people here, such men as Jacob H. Bass, highly honorable, conscientious, etc., but strong believers in State sovereignty, and because their State has seceded, they are secessionists, and for no other reason. Paine is going to make them walk the plank with the rest. It looks a little hard to me, as they are willing to be paroled, but I’ll never say stop when anybody is pounding the secesh.

We sailed August 13th from New Orleans, and reached Forts Jackson and St. Philip, where we remained over night, and received a salute for the Admiral. We got under way on the following morning, and proceeded to Pilot Town. We found several fine U. S. ships here, among them the U. S. ship Pampero, with which we slightly collided, doing little damage. We here took in our spare spars and rigging, which we had stripped off on entering the river, and also removed the chain cable from our ship’s side.

On the 16th we left for Ship Island, getting aground on the bar as we went out, and arrived off Ship Island on the same evening. We went into port on the following morning, and found lying here the U. S. frigate Potomac, and U. S. sloop-of-war Richmond. The Rhode Island arrived on the 19th, and we left the same day for Pensacola, via Mobile Bay. On arriving off Mobile we found on the blockade the U. S. frigate Susquehanna, with several gunboats. We received and returned a salute from the Susquehanna, and passed on to Pensacola. We arrived off the place in the evening, and went into the harbor on the following morning, and moored the ship off the Navy Yard.

August 19th.

Yesterday, two Colonels, Shields and Breaux, both of whom distinguished themselves in the battle of Baton Rouge, dined here. Their personal appearance was by no means calculated to fill me with awe, or even to give one an idea of their rank; for their dress consisted of merely cottonade pants, flannel shirts, and extremely short jackets (which, however, is rapidly becoming the uniform of the Confederate States).

– – – – – – – – – – –

Just three lines back, three soldiers came in to ask for molasses. I was alone downstairs, and the nervous trepidation with which I received the dirty, coarsely clad strangers, who, however, looked as though they might be gentlemen, has raised a laugh against me from the others who looked down from a place of safety. I don’t know what I did that was out of the way. I felt odd receiving them as though it was my home, and having to answer their questions about buying, by means of acting as telegraph between them and Mrs. Carter. I confess to that. But I know I talked reasonably about the other subjects. Playing hostess in a strange house! Of course, it was uncomfortable! and to add to my embarrassment, the handsomest one offered to pay for the milk he had just drunk! Fancy my feelings, as I hastened to assure him that General Carter never received money for such things, and from a soldier, besides, it was not to be thought of! He turned to the other, saying, “In Mississippi we don’t meet with such people! Miss, they don’t hesitate to charge four bits a canteen for milk. They take all they can. They are not like you Louisianians.” I was surprised to hear him say it of his own State, but told him we thought here we could not do enough for them.

Tuesday, 19th–We received orders that two companies are to go out every three days about four miles east of the camp, to guard the railroad at the deep cut. On the third day they are to be relieved by two other companies from the regiment. It is a dangerous place to be on picket.