Aug. 1, 1862, A. M.—In Wilmington. Blue! Blue! Leave for Richmond at 2 p. m, taking a lot of vegetables for S. T. Buie & Bro., 18th North Carolina Regiment.

Aug. 2—Miss connection at Petersburg. Get to Richmond at 6 p. m. and hear that Lieutenant Cain is about to die in Camp Winder Hospital.

Sunday, Aug. 3, 1862—Preach in the morning. Hear that Lieut. Cain died at 9 a. m. and Lieut. Pitt about to die. Ride anxiously to Hospital, and find Pitt died at 5 p. m. Return to Richmond sad at 9 p. m.

Aug. 4th—Spend afternoon visiting my sick at Winder. Look at Lieutenant Cain and Pitt for the last time. Dine at Pa’s Write to Mary. Visit Brother Amos and wife, Leonard and Lieut. Galloway, and reach camp late.

Aug. 5—Visit Rev. H. G. Hill, Chaplain 13th Regiment. Meet Rev. J. Rumple of Salisbury and Rev. Van Eaton. Hear Rumple conclude his sermon, and Van Eaton through all of his. Good feeling among soldiers.

Aug. 6—Visit all my sick at Division Hospital. Thence to Richmond. Visit Samuel Wescott and Rev. W. C. Power, Chaplain 14th Regiment, sick.

Visit my many sick at Winder. Some will die. Return late to camp.

Aug. 7—Fever all day. May the Lord restore me soon so that I may administer to others.

August 6th.

We six madcaps got in the carriage and buggy, and rode off in search of news. We took a quantity of old linen rags along, and during the whole drive, our fingers were busy making lint. Once we stopped at a neighbor’s to gather the news, but that did not interfere with our labors at all. Four miles from here we met a crowd of women flying, and among them recognized Mrs. La Noue and Noémie. A good deal of loud shouting brought them to the carriage in great surprise to see us there. They were running from the plantation where they had taken refuge, as it was not safe from the shells, as the gunboats had proved to them. The reports we had heard in the morning were from shots fired on this side of the river by them, in hopes of hurting a guerrilla or two. Noémie told us that two Western regiments had laid down their arms, and General Williams had been killed by his own men. She looked so delighted, and yet it made me sick to think of his having been butchered so. Phillie leaned out, and asked her, as she asked everybody, if she knew anything about her father. Noémie, in her rapture over that poor man’s death, exclaimed, “Don’t know a word about him! know Williams was cut to pieces, though!” – and that is all we could learn from her.

We went on until we came in sight of Baton Rouge. There it stood, looking so beautiful against the black, lowering sky that I could not but regret its fate. We could see the Garrison, State House, Asylum, and all that; but the object of the greatest interest to me was the steeple of the Methodist church, for to the right of it lay home. While looking at it, a negro passed who was riding up and down the coast collecting lint, so I gave him all we had made, and commenced some more. Presently, we met Mr. Phillips, to whom Phillie put the same question. “He is on the Laurel Hill a prisoner – Confound that negro! where did he go?” And so on, each answer as far as concerned her, seeming a labor, but the part relating to the servant very hearty. Poor Phillie complained that everybody was selfish – thought only of their own affairs, and did not sympathize with her. “Yes, my dear,” I silently assented; for it was very true; every one seemed to think of their own interests alone. It was late before we got home, and then we had great fun in watching shells which we could dimly trace against the clouds, falling in what must have been the Garrison. Then came a tremendous fire, above, which may have been a boat – I don’t know.

I hear a tremendous firing again, and from the two volumes of smoke, should judge it was the Arkansas and the Essex trying their strength at a distance. We are going down to see what’s the fun. It would be absurd to record all the rumors that have reached us, since we can rely on none. [continue reading…]

Wednesday, 6th–I went on guard again. The boys are having high times today; all having plenty of money, they are making it lively in camp. But those on guard duty are having hard work because of the hot weather; for with dress coat buttoned up, all accouterments strapped on, and carrying musket at right shoulder shift, one can easily see what warm work it is walking the beat.

Aug. 6th. Wednesday. In the morning there was a great scare about Quantrell’s band. Reported near Montebello, 40 miles east, preparing for a raid against Fort Scott. A report that three companies of the 3rd Wisconsin had been captured. At nine “to arms” blew and to arms the men went. They seized their old rusted carbines, scoured them and were in line for the assembly. They were assembled, mounted under Capt. Smith and dismounted under Major Purington. 3rd came in unharmed save one killed, several wounded and baggage train lost. Rations for five days were issued. Went over to town at retreat, got shaved and hair cut by Charlie Fairbanks.

Wednesday, 6th.—Moved up one miles this A. M. Cannonading began at 9 A. M. at 9:30 A. M., pretty heavy skirmishing towards Tazewell. 10:30, rather heavy fighting. 11 A. M., regiment ordered to the front, double quick. Just then a soldier met us, wounded slightly in the hand, who yelled to us, “Hurry up, boys; they are into it up there in blood-shoe mouth deep.” We got to the battlefield just as the Federals were leaving in double quick, and I was very glad they had left. Confederate, 8 killed; 25 wounded; 60 Yankee prisoners.

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

AUGUST 6th.—Jackson is making preparations to fight. I know the symptoms. He has made Pope believe he’s afraid of him.

6th,–I am just in receipt of the following letter, and lest I may some day be disposed to charge the friends of those for whom I labor with want of appreciation of my efforts, I record it in my journal, with the hope that my eyes may often fall on it. I am almost daily receiving similar letters, and how they brace me in my efforts to do my duty, despite of the embarrassments which are unnecessarily thrown around me!

[Letter omitted in the publication of this journal.]

Do surgeons in the army ever realize that often friends of the soldier, at home, are as great sufferers from this war as the soldier himself? Do they ever think of the comfort, of the happiness they may with a little effort, impart to those whom they never saw, but are perhaps as active participants in the war as those actually in the lines! and do they begrudge the little time and labor required to impart this comfort or consolation?

August 5th.

About half-past nine, as we got up from the breakfast table, a guerrilla told us the ram Arkansas was lying a few miles below, on her way to cooperate with Breckinridge, whose advance guard had already driven the pickets into Baton Rouge. Then we all grew wild with excitement.

Such exclamations! such delight that the dreadful moment had at last arrived! And yet you could see each stop as we rejoiced, to offer up a prayer for the preservation of those who were risking their lives at that moment. Reason, and all else, was thrown aside, and we determined to participate in the danger, if there was any to be incurred. Mother threatened us with shot and shell and bloody murder, but the loud report of half a dozen cannon in slow succession only made us more determined to see the fun, so Lilly Nolan and Miss Walters got on horseback, and Phillie, Ginnie, Miriam, and I started off in the broiling sun, leaving word for the carriage to overtake us. When we once got in, the driver, being as crazy as we, fairly made his horses run along the road to catch a glimpse of our Ram. When, miles below, she came in sight, we could no longer remain in the carriage, but mounted the levee, and ran along on foot until we reached her, when we crossed to the outer levee, and there she lay at our feet.

And nothing in her after all! There lay a heavy, clumsy, rusty, ugly flatboat with a great square box in the centre, while great cannon put their noses out at the sides, and in front. The decks were crowded with men, rough and dirty, jabbering and hastily eating their breakfast. That was the great Arkansas! God bless and protect her, and the brave men she carries.

While there, a young man came up, and in answer to Phillie’s inquiries about her father – who, having gone to town yesterday to report, being paroled, had written last night to say no passes were granted to leave town – the young fellow informed her so pleasantly that her father was a prisoner, held as hostage for Mr. Castle. Poor Phillie had to cry; so, to be still more agreeable, he told her, Yes, he had been sent to a boat lying at the landing, and ran the greatest risk, as the ram would probably sink the said boat in a few hours. How I hated the fool for his relish of evil tidings!

But never mind our wild expedition, or what came of it. Am I not patient! Ever since I commenced to write, the sound of a furious bombardment has been ringing in my ears; and [continue reading…]

Tuesday, 5th–The Eleventh Iowa drew two months’ pay today. I received $26. We are able to purchase most any kind of goods needed, right here at Bolivar only two miles from camp.

5th. Tuesday. In the morning did little of everything. Wrote to Fannies A. and H. in answer to letter received almost three months since. In the afternoon the service for the burial of three men was performed. Lt. Pike drilled the escort. It seemed his whole ambition to get the men well drilled. He had an escort drilling for one very sick man who had not yet died. Maj. M. and Adj. W. boarding with us. In the evening attended a variety performance up town. Very good for barren Fort Scott. Got home about midnight. Received no letters, a little disappointed. Mr. Hawkins returned yesterday.

Tuesday, 5th.—At 2 P. M., started forward; soon came to Clinch River; advance guard skirmishing a little some distance out. Saw one Federal prisoner. Clinch River was about one hundred and fifty yards wide; no bridge; ordered to wade through. Now came a ridiculous but laughable scene, 1,800 breechesless men wading in water three feet deep and more, trying to keep dry shirts. One agreed to pay another fifty cents to carry him over; so, mounting on his back, they started in, but before getting half-way across fell, and both went under together. Camped at 10 P. M., four miles from Tazewell.

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

AUGUST 5th.—The enemy have postponed drafting, that compulsory mode of getting men being unpopular, until after the October elections. I hope Lee will make the most of his time, and annihilate their drilled and seasoned troops. He can put more fighting men in Virginia than the enemy, during the next two months. “Now’s the day, and now’s the hour!”

5 August

       Mrs. Stevens wrote me a note yesterday morning to say that she had permission from her husband to join him at Vicksburg and she would be glad to take letters or a parcel for John so we all wrote letters made them in a packet and gave them to her for she came in the afternoon to see us. This morning she went off on her long journey to reach her husband. I hope she will get there safe, and find them well. I showed her the Ambrotypes of my 5 eldest sons & introduced her to John.—

       We were all very much delighted a few days since by getting a letter from William announcing his change to Fort Sumpter he had received a Commission from Richmond as 2nd Lieutenant in the Calhoun’s Artillery, we had given up all expectation of W’s getting any thing and I am very glad for us all and particularly for his sake.—There had been so many applications for him and all had so entirely failed. The last was in the Sharp Shooters his name was put down by Gen Evens but the Major’s Bing Smith was one made interest to have his name taken off and a friend of their own put in the place. This was a very disagreeable thing and we all felt worried by it, but now if his health is good in our climate there is always a terrible risk in a change and fever seems to lurk in every place. I feel very anxious about him & John. We sent down his trunk and as in this out of the way place there is no express. Adam was sent to Columbia to put the trunk, and a parcel containing the sheets and the key of the trunk in the express, it cost $5. 50 the whole thing.—

August 5.—The papers of last night brought us no news, except that our troops are firing upon the enemy’s gun-boats near Coggin’s Point. The result not known. A battle between Jackson and Pope still imminent. Major Bailey made a brilliant cavalry raid a few days since upon the enemy in Nicholas County, in which he took the command of a lieutenant-colonel prisoner, burnt their stores, and brought off many horses, mules, and arms. Morgan continues his successful raids in the West. The enemy has abandoned the siege of Vicksburg for the time.

BOOK III

Westover,
Monday, August 4th, 1862.

Here we are at Dr. Nolan’s plantation, with Baton Rouge lying just seven miles from us to the east. We can surely hear the cannon from here. They are all so kind to us that I ought to be contented; but still I wish I was once more at home. I suppose it is very unreasonable in me, but I cannot help it. I miss my old desk very much; it is so awkward to write on my knee that I cannot get used to it. Mine is a nice little room upstairs, detached from all the rest, for it is formed by a large dormer window looking to the north, from which I have seen a large number of guerrillas passing and repassing in their rough costumes, constantly. I enjoy the fresh air, and all that, but pleasant as it is, I wish I was at home and all the fuss was over. Virginia Nolan and Miriam are already equipped in their riding costumes, so I must lay this down and get ready to join them in a scamper across the fields. How delighted I will be to get on a horse again.

Monday, 4th–I slipped out today between two guards and going up the river about a mile to a bakery near a mill, I bought a dozen apple pies. I returned safely to camp and sold the pies to some of the boys for double what I paid for them. Orders are very strict against absence from camp, for it is reported that a large force of the rebels is in this locality, and they may charge upon our camp any time.

4th. Monday. “General” blew at 7 A. M. Struck tents and moved to our first camping ground when we entered Fort Scott from Kansas City. I went ahead with Major Miner to lay out camp. Q. M. issued clothing. Drew boots and shirt. Helped get things ready for supper. In the evening Major P., Major M. and Adj. Weeks got news of the fight in the Indian Territory. Standwaite prisoner, another notable killed. 400 proved traitors, having come into camp and given up and then turning on our men. 300 of them killed. Sergt. Major was taken sick suddenly, probably sunstruck. Bill drunk and quarrelsome. Adj. Weeks in tent.

Monday, August 4th.—Regiment ordered in the direction of Tazewell; marched fifteen miles; made me very sore marching to-day.

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

August 4th.—Lee is making herculean efforts for an “on to Washington,” while the enemy think he merely designs a defense of Richmond. Troops are on the move, all the way from Florida to Gordonsville.

August 4.—The girls just returned from a visit to Mrs. A. of several days, which they enjoyed greatly. Every thing there very bright and cheerful, except the hearts of the parents—they yearn for their sons on the field of danger! A battle is now expected between Jackson and Pope.

August 3d, Westover.

Enfin nous sommes arrivées! And after what a trip! As we reached the ferry, I discovered I had lost the pass, and had to walk back and search for it, aided by Mr. Tunnard, who met me in my distress, as it has always been his luck to do. But somebody had already adopted the valuable trifle, so I had to rejoin mother and Miriam without it. The guard resolutely refused to let us pass until we got another, so off flew Mr. Tunnard to procure a second – which was vastly agreeable, as I knew he would have to pay twenty-five cents for it, Yankees having come down as low as that, to procure money. But he had gone before we could say anything, and soon returned with the two-bits’ worth of leave of absence. Then we crossed the river in a little skiff after sundown, in a most unpleasant state of uncertainty as to whether the carriage was waiting at the landing for us, for I did not know if Phillie had received my note, and there was no place to go if she had not sent for us. However, we found it waiting, and leaving mother and Miriam to pay the ferry, I walked on to put our bundles in the carriage. A man stepped forward, calling me by name and giving me a note from Charlie before I reached it; and as I placed my foot on the step, another came up and told me he had left a letter at home for me at one o’clock. I bowed Yes (it was from Howell; must answer to-morrow). He asked me not to mention it was “him”; a little servant had asked his name, but he told her it was none of her business. I laughed at the refined remark, and said I had not known who it was – he would hardly have been flattered to hear I had not even inquired. He modestly said that he was afraid I had seen him through the window. Oh, no! I assured him. “Well, please, anyhow, don’t say it’s me!” he pleaded most grammatically. I answered, smiling, “I did not know who it was then, I know no more now, and if you choose, I shall always remain in ignorance of your identity.” He burst out laughing, and went off with, “Oh, do, Miss Morgan, forget all about me!” as though it was a difficult matter! Who can he be?

We had a delightful drive in the moonlight, though it was rather long; and it was quite late when we drove up to the house, and were most cordially welcomed by the family. We sat up late on the balcony listening for the report of cannon, which, however, did not come. Baton Rouge is to be attacked to-morrow, “they say.” Pray Heaven it will all be over by that time! Nobody seems to doubt it, over here. A while ago a long procession of guerrillas passed a short distance from the house, looking for a party of Yankees they heard of in the neighborhood, and waved their hats, for lack of handkerchiefs, to us as we stood on the balcony. [continue reading…]

Tuscumbia, Ala., August 3, 1862.

In the last 15 days I have only written you once; partly because I have been so busy, more, because of my laziness. There is but little save rumors that can be of any interest to you from here, and shall not inflict any of them on you, for the newspapers have certainly surfeited everyone’s taste for that article. All this blowing and howling we have in the papers of raids everywhere, and overwhelming forces of the enemy confronting us at all points, is, I candidly believe, part of the plan to raise volunteers. It certainly is one grand humbug as far as this field is concerned. Every officer here that knows anything about the condition of the enemy, their positions and numbers, believes that if our army were concentrated and set at the work, we could clear out all the enemy south of this and west of Georgia in a short two months. The soldiers are all anxious to begin, all tired of inaction, all clamoring for the war to be ended by a vigorous campaign, we running our chances of being whipped by the enemy, instead of waiting until next spring, and then being forced by bankruptcy to abandon our work. The way we are scattered in this country now the enemy can take 1,000 or 2,000 of us just any morning they may feel so disposed, and their not doing it lowers them wonderfully in my opinion. There are about 6,000 of us stationed at nine points along 75 miles of railroad, and there is no point that 4,000 men could not reach and attack, and take before assistance could be afforded. But the Rebels don’t show any more dash or spirit than we do, so we all rest perfectly easy in our weakness, confiding in their lack of vim, which we gauge by our own. A line drawn through Fulton, Miss., Warrenton, Ala. and thence to Rome, Ga. (at which last place we think the enemy are concentrating) will give you the route over which the enemy are now moving in considerable bodies, while whole brigades of their numerous cavalry pass nearer us, through Newburg, Moulton and Somerville, Ala. ‘Twould be so easy for them to detach a division and send it up to this line of road. Buell, with a very respectable force, is near Stephenson in northeastern Alabama moving so slowly that no one can tell in which direction. I wish they’d give Grant the full control of the strings. He would be sure to have somebody whipped, and I’d rather ‘twould be us than live much longer in this inactivity. People are most outrageously secesh here, generally, although there are said to be some settlements very Union. I saw two men yesterday who were raising the 1st Union Alabama Regiment. They have two full companies they say, but I’ll never believe it until I see the men in blue jackets. This is the most beautiful valley that I ever saw. It lies between the Tennessee river and a spur of the Cumberland mountains, which are craggy and rough, and rocky enough to disgust an Illinoisan after a very short ride over and among them. Howwever, they form a beautiful background for the valley, and are very valuable in their hiding places for the guerrillas who [continue reading…]

Sunday, 3d–When the sick call was made this morning, I went to see the doctor for the first time. I was threatened with fever and the doctor gave me three “Blue Mass” pills and marked me off duty for three days.

3rd. Sunday. Started again at 4 A. M. Marched 14 miles in sight of Fort Scott. Then turned back two miles on account of the scarcity of water. Encamped along a little vale where were little puddles of water. Got into camp a little after noon. Slept some. Got wood for a fire. Helped eat some oysters and sardines. Supper at 5 P. M. Mail came bringing a letter from Minnie. Wrote home. Sent a letter to Fannie. Saw some new acts relating to the formation of regiments under the new law. All Batt. staffs to be mustered out. One more 2nd Lt. to a company. A good berth for some of the staff. Warm day, not much like Sunday.