July 3rd In camp sick. Meet Revs. T. J. Gattis and J. C. Brent of North Carolina. Learn that Bro. E. J. Grear of Company “C,” was badly wounded and captured. He had left his pocket book containing $42.21 with me. I wish he had it in gold.
JULY 3d.—Our wounded are now coming in fast, under the direction of the Ambulance Committee. I give passports to no one not having legitimate business on the field to pass the pickets of the army. There is no pilfering on this field of battle; no “Plug Ugly” detectives stripping dead colonels, and, Falstaff like, claiming [...]
Thursday night, July 3d. Another day of sickening suspense. This evening, about three, came the rumor that there was to be an attack on the town to-night, or early in the morning, and we had best be prepared for anything. I can’t say I believe it, but in spite of my distrust, I made my [...]
Thursday, 3d–The Eleventh Iowa went out on picket duty. I was on guard at division headquarters, my post being in a large orchard, and my orders were to keep all soldiers out of it.[1] [1] Such orders soon got to be a joke with the men, they in a quiet way giving the commanding officers [...]
3rd. Thursday. In saddles at three A. M. Rode 18 miles. Encamped on Grand River.
Thursday, July 3d.—Went out into the Lowry neighborhood to visit kin. (Note: picture is of an unidentified Confederate soldier.)
July 3rd, 1862.—We went yesterday to see the soldiers in camp. Brother Junius is as brown as a berry. I did not know blondes ever burned brown. I thought they only turned red. His uniform is extremely becoming. He did not get it until after he reached Palatka, so we had not seen him in [...]
July 3d.–Mem says she feels like sitting down, as an Irishwoman does at a wake, and howling night and day. Why did Huger let MeClellan slip through his fingers? Arrived at Mrs. McMahan’s at the wrong moment. Mrs. Bartow was reading to the stricken mother an account of the death of her son. The letter [...]
3rd.–This morning the men looked haggard and worn. Some slept; more shivered with cold the night through, and in my morning round to look after the health of the regiment, I found men standing upright, without any support, and fast asleep. There was no wood within half a mile of us to make fires. Not [...]
Jane Eliza Newton Woolsey to her daughter. July 3, ’62. My dear Eliza: What times you are living through! in the very midst, too, of everything as you are !–and how dark, very dark, it all looks to us this morning as we read the last “reliable ” accounts from the army before Richmond! Think [...]