14th. Went twice to mustering officer without success. Finished “Dante” and “Dream Life” by Ike Marvel. Beautiful pictures of life, beautiful because so real. Good lessons. Had good visits with Easton and McBride. Clear.

Thursday, 16th.—Sick to-day. Yankees would not exchange papers to-day.

Notes:

• This entry in the book is in sequence between the 12th and the 15th, so it was likely an entry for the 14th.  After the fifteenth, there is another entry for the 16th.
• the picture is of an unidentified Confederate soldier.

Dec.14^th 1864 (Washington)

The City seems to be overflowing with people, rents are constantly rising and prices of everything raise in proportion. A person cannot find common Board now (meals only) for less than $25 pr month, and from that to $50 and $60. The Hotels here are now charging from $4.00 to $5.00 pr day. I had occasion to buy a few yards of factory cotton cloth one yard wide about the first of this month, paid $.75 pr yard – used to buy it for ten cents. Cotton is worth (or at least sells for) much more than wool, flour is $18 pr B^ll, Butter 65 cts pr lb, fresh Beef (best) 35 cts, Ham 30, Cheese 30, Oak wood $12 pr cord, Coal $15.00 pr ton, Milk 20 cts pr quart. Books have just about doubled in price. News papers sold by news boys 5 cts, some of the NY papers sell for 10. The “Independent” does. Penn Avenue is the great Artery of the City as “Broad Way” is in NY. It is the great River into which all the little streams enter. Everything can be seen there in the shape of humanity, from the Millionaire to the beggar. “Shoulder Straps” are not as plenty as they used to be, but there is a good sprinkling of them seen yet. One cannot pass a few squares on the “Av^e” now without seeing nearly all the grades of rank indicated, from the two Stars of the Maj Gen^l to the Chevrons of the Sergeant, and privates without number. Soldiers are constantly either going or coming through the City, either on their way Home or to the Army, “The Front.” Many are in Hospital convalesent and get their “leave” for a few hours and perambulate the City. Here are couple of rather pale looking fellows from Hospital on crutches. One meets many such, and many empty sleeves. One cannot pass them without a feeling of sadness altho they generaly seem happy and in good spirits. One always meets certain well know[n] characters or persons, who like all the rest of the world, prominade in the afternoon. Beau Hickman is one of the standard characters of the City. He is always seen shuffling along, for “Beau” has been lame for a long time. He has had the gout or something of that sort for his toes are sadly distorted. He probably lived too high when he succeeded so well in former days as a professional “Sponge” when wine and rich viands were matters of everyday use with him. Poor “Beau,” his stories, his jokes, his duns, his “Taxes,” all are Stale now. He does not “take” any men. “Beau” is now considered a decided Bore. “Johny,” who sells matches and Blacking, is another well known personage who always seems to be everywhere. He is very much deformed and very lame and hobbles along with the greatest difficulty, but he is a quiet inoffensive fellow with a cast off high crowned hat on his head with a cockade on it and sometimes a small Union flag flying from it, for “Johny” is a Staunch Union Man. He took the “Av^e” by surprise a year or two ago by promenading with a female arm in arm minus the symbols of his trade & his patriotism, and dressed in a new suit of clothes. “Johny” was short and very crooked and the female was tall and very strait. He knew everybody and bowed to everybody and everybody to him with a smothered laugh. Johny confessed that he had Married a wife and got six hundred dollars with her, when “pumped” a day or two after. There are other characters no less well known and quite as little respected. There is a “pink” of “fashion.” His coat is buttoned up to the chin, his collar and cravat are faultless (he may have a shirt on, and may not), his hat is well worn and smo[o]th with much brushing, his boots are well polished, and his pants straped down tight. He is always drawing on his teids or taking them off with his rattan under his arm. He is now picking his teeth on the Piazza at the “National” with the most careless air or twirling his moustache while looking over the “arrivals” at the office. Does he board there? not a bit of it. Nobody knows where he lives or what he does. He is always seen, is one of a Class who may be seen do[d]ging out of a dirty alley sometimes in the morning from ten cent lodgings and getting, occasionaly, money from home. But these characters have diverted our attention from the great moveing throng on the “Av^e.” Here comes the Patrol guard, a dozen or so of well dressed soldiers with white gloves and polished shoes, and bright muskets. A Lieut is a little a head and stops the guard before a Hotel while he enters and addresses himself to all “shoulder straps,” who must show their “passes.” The same with all soldiers on the street. Here comes another squad of soldiers mixed up with a motly crowd of ragged and hard looking men. They too are a guard. They are taking some prisoners to the old Capitol Prison. Those hard looking long haired men are rebel Prisoner “Guerrillas” perhaps captured somewhere over in V.a. Such a crowd is usualy followed by the usual number of ragged boys, Negroes and other idlers. We frequently see old men among such prisoners, and almost every day such crowds pass. There is a troop of Cavalry just coming in covered with dust or mud (one or the other always prevails in Washington). The horses look jaded and tired. The troopers look grim and dirty. They have bags of provender, and blankets straped to their saddles. Their carbines swung over their shoulders with the muzzle pointing to the ground. Their canteens also suspended from the shoulder. The steel scabbard sword and revolvers hung to the Belts. They walk their horses through the street. People look at them and think they have been on a “raid.” There is usualy some led horses with accoutrements all on. You gaze at the empty Saddle with a thrill, for it is fearfully suggestive of a life struggle of wounds and death. Perhaps the dry red blood is still on the saddle. Where is the rider? “Alas nor wife nor children more shall he behold nor friends nor sacred home.” Here is the carriage of Mrs Lincoln before a dry goods Store, her footman has gone into the Store. The Clerk is just going out to the carriage (where Mrs L is waiting) with some pieces of goods for her to choose from. I should rather think that she would have a better chance at the goods if she was to go into the Store but then she might get jostled and gazed at and that too would be doing just as the common people do. The footman holds the carriage door open. The driver sits on the box and hold[s] the horses. Mrs L. thumbs the goods and asks a great many questions. People turn round and look at the carriage after they pass, it is the Presidents Carriage. The carriage, horses, and all make a very modest appearance. Many a Farmer in the country can show a better “turnout.” Nothing is noticeable except that it is Mrs Lincoln, and the driver and the footman have gold bands & cockades on their hats. There comes down the Avenue a Battery of Artillery. It is astonishing how a Battery of six guns (“twelve pounders”) will stretch out, and what a rattling it will make over the pavement. Every gun has six horses and a Caisson with six more horses with nine or ten men to a gun. Every gun an[d] Caisson has a spare wheel securely lashed on behind. Then there follows the Amunition wagons and the Forge, and the Baggage. Altogether not less than a quarter of a mile is occupied, perhaps more. Sometimes they go through the Street on a gallop and then such a rumbling and rattling of the carriages and clattering of hoofs of the horses, such a jolting and bounding of the men was never heard or seen. No human voice could be heard but at the Bugle call halt, all is still in an instant. The horses and men are like statues, still, and motionless. H N Chapman is from Rockford Ill. He is a Clerk in the Gen^l Land office and occupies a room adjoining to mine. He is a great talker, full of argument, full of self conceit and very dogmatic in his opinions besides being very nervous altho he is quite large and given somewhat to Obesity. He boards on Capitol Hill and while he prides himself upon his disregard for little things, “little things” are a source of the greatest anoyance to him. Directly over his lodging a Russian and his wife have taken up their abode. She is an Artist. He is a refugee, a sort of broken down grandee. He tramps the floor at night over Chapmans head. Chapman expostulates, the Russian possits. The Russian is otherwise anoying, and Chapman is in great tribulation. He says if he should be found dead in that house some morning He wants the Coronor^s verdict to be “Died of a Russian Bear.”

December 14th.–And now the young ones are in bed and I am wide awake. It is an odd thing; in all my life how many persons have I seen in love? Not a half-dozen. And I am a tolerably close observer, a faithful watcher have I been from my youth upward of men and manners. Society has been for me only an enlarged field for character study.

Flirtation is the business of society; that is, playing at love-making. It begins in vanity, it ends in vanity. It is spurred on by idleness and a want of any other excitement. Flattery, battledore and shuttlecock, how in this game flattery is dashed backward and forward. It is so soothing to self-conceit. If it begins and ends in vanity, vexation of spirit supervenes sometimes. They do occasionally burn their fingers awfully, playing with fire, but there are no hearts broken. Each party in a flirtation has secured a sympathetic listener, to whom he or she can talk of himself or herself–somebody who, for the time, admires one exclusively, and, as the French say, excessivement. It is a pleasant, but very foolish game, and so to bed.

Hood and Thomas have had a fearful fight, with carnage and loss of generals excessive in proportion to numbers. That means they were leading and urging their men up to the enemy. I know how Bartow and Barnard Bee were killed bringing up their men. One of Mr. Chesnut’s sins thrown in his teeth by the Legislature of South Carolina was that he procured the promotion of Gist, “State Rights” Gist, by his influence in Richmond. What have these comfortable, stay-at-home patriots to say of General Gist now? “And how could man die better than facing fearful odds,” etc.

So Fort McAlister has fallen! Good-by, Savannah! Our Governor announces himself a follower of Joe Brown, of Georgia. Another famous Joe.

Wednesday, 14th–The capture of Fort McAllister gives us our first communication with the North since the telegraph wires were cut at Marietta, Georgia, on the 12th of November. We have no rations yet, but will have crackers as soon as our men can remove the torpedoes from the Ogeechee river, which is thickly laid with them; then the transports can land provisions. There is great rejoicing in camp, as we have nothing left but unhulled rice. This we hull by placing a handful in our haversacks which we lay on logs and pound with our bayonets. Then we pour the contents from hand to hand, blowing the while to separate the chaff from the grains. All is quiet along the line, except occasional skirmishing. We had regimental inspection this afternoon. The foraging train of the Fifteenth Corps came in this afternoon with some forage. We are now in camp in a large rice plantation about ten miles south of Savannah.

December 13th.–Cloudy and cold, but wind southeast.

The sullen sound of cannon heard this morning as usual down the river. I hear of no active operations there, although the ground is sufficiently frozen to bear horses and artillery.

Rumors of successes on the part of Sherman near Savannah are still in circulation.

The rich men are generally indignant at the President and Gov. Smith for proposing to bring a portion of the negroes into the army. They have not yet awakened to a consciousness that there is danger of losing all, and of their being made to fight against us. They do not even remove them beyond the reach of the enemy, and hundreds are daily lost, but still they slumber on. They abuse the government for its impressments, and yet repose in fancied security, holding the President responsible for the defense of the country, without sufficient men and adequate means.

The following dispatch from Gen. Bragg was received to-day at 10 P.M.:

“Augusta, Dec. 12th.

“The telegraph having been cut, we get nothing from Savannah. A dispatch from Wheeler gives a copy of enemy’s order for the line of investment around Savannah. It is about eight miles from the city, and was to have been reached on the 9th.

“B. Bragg.”

I have at length succeeded in getting a suit of clothes; it was made at the government shop for $50, the trimmings having been found (in the house) by my wife. The suit, if bought of a merchant and made by the city tailors, would cost some $1000. A Yankee prisoner (deserter) made the coat at a low price. The government means to employ them, if they desire it, in this manner. I am very thankful for my good fortune.

13th. Notice of appointment from Adj. Gen’l of Ohio as captain came. Went over to muster. No success. Several promotions.

Tuesday, 13th–We lay in bivouac all day. Our rations ran out today and no more can be issued until we open up communications with the fleet. To do that we shall have to open a way to the coast. Our men have foraged everything to be found. The only thing that we can get now is rice, of which there is a great deal in stacks, besides thousands of bushels threshed out, but not hulled, and stored away in granaries. The Thirty-second Illinois went with a train from our brigade to forage. Fort McAllister was captured late this afternoon by a detachment of the Fifteenth Corps, General Hazen’s Division. Our cracker line is open once more and there is great cheering in camp over the news.

December 12th.–Clear and cold. Ice half an inch thick.

Gen. Longstreet is again in the old lines on this side of the river. The reconnoissance, however, is said to have been successful. Only a few were killed and wounded on either side.

And Grant’s column was turned back from Meherrin bridge. Results of the movement unimportant, and the supposition is that both armies will now go into winter quarters, after a taste of this rigorous weather.

It is rumored and believed (though I have seen no dispatch to that effect) that Sherman has beaten and out-manœuvred our generals, and got into communication with the Federal fleet.

I read President Lincoln’s message carefully last night. By its commissions and omissions on Mexican affairs, I think he means to menace Louis Napoleon, who may speak out January 1st, 1865. Lincoln says:

“Mexico continues to be a theater of civil war. While our political relations with that country have undergone no change, we have at the same time strictly maintained neutrality between the belligerents.”

And his reference to England is so equivocal, and his grouping of the Central and South American Republics so prominent, and the boastful allusion to the “inexhaustible” resources of the United States, may be considered as a premeditated threat to Great Britain.

A “confidential” letter came in to-day from Mr. Benjamin to the Secretary of War.

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December 12th. Report comes this morning that guerillas crossed Sheridan’s railroad last night and captured a train on the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, near Duffield Station. They passed near our picket posts. Did not molest us, as we did not see or hear anything of them. Trains with passengers, mail, and supplies pass over this road. The rebs no doubt read Sheridan’s notice, for many of them have homes in this vicinity.

12th. Monday. Wrote letter for Fecklin and several in answer to letters for Co. “C” people. Awfully cold.

1864—In Front of Nashville

Monday, 12th.—Picket line on our old works. Videttes as picket line. On detail all day. On picket at night. Very cold.

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

Monday, 12th–Our regiment was withdrawn from the rifle pits, the rebels having left during the night, and with our entire corps we moved about five miles to the right. Our division stacked arms until 3 p. m. when we fell in and marched two miles farther and again stacked arms. We now had to move over a two-mile causeway from ten to thirty feet high, but the rebels having planted batteries within range of the road, we waited to move after dark. Our teams were all sent around about fifteen miles. We ran the blockade under cover of the night, the rebels opening their batteries on us, without doing any damage. We went into camp about 8 o’clock.

December 11th, Sunday.–Cloudy and melting–snow vanishing rapidly. The thousand and one rumors of great achievements of Gen. Longstreet on the north side of the river seem to have been premature. Nothing official of any advantage gained over the enemy near the city has been received so far as I can learn. Gen. Lee, no doubt, directed Longstreet to make demonstrations on the enemy’s lines near the city, to ascertain their strength, and to prevent more reinforcements being sent on the south side, where the struggle will occur, if it has not already occurred.

There is no doubt that the enemy’s column sent toward Weldon has been checked, and great things are reported of Gen. Hampton’s cavalry.

A battle must certainly occur near Savannah, Ga. Sherman must assail our lines, or perish between two fires.

President Lincoln’s message to the Congress of the United States, republished in our papers, produces no marked effect. His adherence to a purpose of emancipation of the slaves, and his employment of them in his armies, will suffice for an indefinite prolongation of the war, and perhaps result in the employment of hundreds of thousands of slaves in our armies. The intimation, however, that all applications for “pardon,” etc. have been and are still favorably entertained, will certainly cause many of our croakers who fall into the lines of the United States forces to submit. Others, though so disposed, have not an opportunity to signify their submission. But everything depends upon events in the field.

Before Savannah, December 11, 1864, 8 a.m.

Corse’s Division is just on our right. He woke me up this morning by firing a volley of eight 12-pounders, in real old Atlanta fashion. He was answered by three Rebel guns planted on the defenses of Savannah, across a field and swamp from us. We are in good range of them. Nine p.m.—Found this morning that the Rebels have a big swamp and lake between their position and ours. It is impossible to get at them there. Our corps was ordered to swing to the right. The Rebel battery had fair view and close range on any road we could take, so we had to wait until night, when ours and the 3d Division passed them without any trouble. We are now on a main road, straight and wide enough for three wagons, which we think leads to Pulaski. This is a country of awful swamps, with level flats, between which are rice fields, and most of them have three feet of water on them. Many think we are not going to make an effort for Savannah at present, but will open communication with the coast. It is as much as we can do to find dry land enough to camp on. We are not caring a cent what “Pap” does. It is quite cold again; to-night promises to be the coldest night of the winter.

11th. Sunday. Snowed all last night. 6 inches of snow this morning. Wrote to Fred, C. G., Ella and home.

1st. Thursday. 2nd Ohio in rear. Kept along down North river. Passed through “Hanging Rock” Gap. Scenery grand. Camped at Capron Bridge in Lost River valley, 18 miles below Wardensville. On picket. Easy post.

“AT MRS. OVERTON’S,
“Six Miles from Nashville,
“On Columbia Turnpike,
“Dec. 5th, 1864.

        “I wrote you a short note from the other side of Franklin the morning after the battle. I have not written oftener because I have been unwilling to trust letters to the mail, as I suppose communication has been interrupted between Macon and Augusta. We left Florence, Alabama, on the 21st of November; we reached Columbia and after remaining in front of the place two or three days it was evacuated by the enemy who then took position on the north bank of Duck River, immediately opposite the town. There was some artillery firing and sharp shooting across the river and it was in this on the 28th that Col. Beckham was wounded. I have not heard from him since the morning of the 1st. when he was doing well, but the wound is so severe (the skull fractured) that I fear he will not recover. In fact the surgeon said there was a bare possibility of his surviving. His loss will be very severely felt. It is hard enough to be killed at all, but to be killed in such an insignificant affair makes it doubly bad.

“The fight at Franklin was very severe—while it lasted, and though our loss was heavy, everybody is in the finest humor—and ready for the fight again whenever Gen. ‘John B.’ gives the word. Col. Cofer, Provost Marshall Gen. of the Army, told me the other day that he had [continue reading…]

Sunday, 11th.—Wind blowing very cold from the north; two inches of snow and frozen over; slick as glass. Our line out in an open field; no timber near; cutting and hauling green elm wood. Our eyes nearly smoked out. “Go it slippers; boots are out of fashion.” Some of the boys about bare-footed.

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

Sunday, 11th–The Twentieth Corps relieved our corps this morning and we moved to the right about five miles, taking the position occupied by the Fifteenth Corps, which moved still farther around to the right. We went into camp about 4 o’clock, and the Eleventh Iowa was sent out on the skirmish line, where we have good works built by the Fifteenth Corps. Skirmishing is not very brisk because of the wide swamp between us and the rebels. We are still on two-fifths rations and there is nothing to forage.

December 10th.–Snowed two inches last night. Cloudy and damp this morning.

Guns were heard down the river last night at a late hour. Perhaps it was nothing more than shelling the enemy’s canal.

We have nothing yet authentic from Georgia; but many rumors of much fighting.

It is said Gen. Hampton has got in front of the enemy’s column at the Weldon Railroad, and is driving them back. Gen. Hill, it is presumed, is this side of them.

It is also reported that Gen. Longstreet is now (12 m.) attacking the enemy on this side of the river, and driving them. Distant guns can be heard southeast of us, and it may be true.

Major Cummings, Confederate States, Georgia, dispatches that the railroad between Atlanta and Chattanooga should be repaired immediately, to bring off supplies from Middle Tennessee. Gen. Bragg concurs.

The following was received from Gen. Bragg to-day, 11 A.M.:

“Augusta, December 10th, 1864.–The following dispatch is just received from Gen. Wheeler, twenty-seven miles from Savannah, 10 P.M., 8th December. Enemy are still moving toward Savannah, obstructing the road in the rear, and resisting warmly this morning. I cannot learn that any have crossed the Savannah River. I hear artillery firing, far in my front; do not know what it means: 14th corps and Kilpatrick’s cavalry on the river road; 15th on middle ground road; and 17th, and probably 20th, on Central Railroad.

“I think the force on the right bank of Ogeechee must be small.”

December 10th. All things have remained quiet as we go through our regular routine of duty from day to day. We get newspapers quite regular from home, furnished by good people, for all of which we are very thankful.

Before Savannah, December 10, 1864.

Crossed the Ogeechee near the mouth of the Canoochie, then a canal, and then up the tow path toward the city. All the other divisions of our corps are ahead of us. An awful country to get through, all lakes and swamps. We are now five miles from Savannah. Have just got our works up and got our suppers. Hear some skirmishing on our right, should think a mile from us. Commenced raining at dark and continued. Made 20 miles to-day.

10th. Saturday. Cold day. No drill. Boys on picket.