September 9th. Camp near Summit Point, our old battlefield, June 15th, 1863. Company drill this morning. Very strange to us. No other regiment out, in the face of the enemy. Battalion drill this P. M. The boys are all mad over it. The men need the rest. It is thought Captain Tiffany wished to make a show, because we are well drilled. Dress parade at 5 P. M. A number of new recruits joined our regiment today, coming from Connecticut. They were assigned to our company, C, we having the least number of any company in the regiment, owing to losses during the severe campaign for the past eight months. Wrote a few letters. Draw four days’ rations. The day closes clear and pleasant. All is quiet along the lines.
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Friday, 9th—It is clear and quite warm. The constant shifting of the sick and wounded men makes a great deal of work for the convalescents here. They are planning to close the hospitals here as soon as possible and the hospital equipment will be shipped either to Chattanooga or Nashville until needed. The field hospital at Atlanta is all that will be needed.
Etowah Bridge, Friday, Sept. 9. Three years ago to-day the first men enlisted for the 6th Wisconsin Battery, a day never to be forgotten by many. Rumors of marching soon are once more afloat. 4th Corps to guard the line. It is said we are to join 15th Army Corps in camp, five miles south of Atlanta to rest one month.
Camp Near Petersburg, Va.,
September 9th, 1864.
I wish my Northern friends could look in and see my new house, this morning. My comrade and I worked all day yesterday, trying to make it comfortable. But first let me introduce my comrade, Mr. Charles Blanchard, son of Judge Blanchard, of Tecumseh, Michigan. He is a young man of good manners and pleasing address, is intelligent, and a very agreeable companion. Everybody calls him Charley. Like myself, he is a paroled prisoner. Now for the house. To begin, we went to the woods and cut four armfuls of poles, which was our building material; then leveled off the ground, ditching around a piece eight feet by twelve. This for our building and front yard. Next in order was the bedstead. Four stakes were driven into the ground, four feet by six feet apart, with a pole across each end. Across these, small poles were fitted, close together, for our spring mattress. On top of these, a thick coating of pine boughs, in lieu of feathers; on top of all, our rubbers and blankets are spread, and our bed is made. A soft, voluptuous bed it is. We then set two poles in the center of each end, to support a ridge pole. Over this pole is thrown our canvas, which is stretched to cover six by eight feet, the lower ends two feet from the ground for ventilation. To the ends we affix other pieces of tent, when behold, the bed is made and the house enclosed.
All that is lacking now is a floor, table and pantry. Lumber is scarce; sawmills there are none. After dinner, away we go, on a voyage of discovery. About a mile from camp we run across a deserted encampment, where we find plenty of lumber. Two trips suffices. We now have lumber, but no nails. Leaving Charlie to saw the boards to the proper length (with a hatchet), I start off in another direction after hardware. About a mile and a half from camp I find where some quartermaster’s cook has made firewood of hardtack and other boxes. In the ashes I find plenty of nails. Our task is now easy and soon completed, and we have as nice, comfortable house as soldiers can ask for in this climate.
I am gaining in health and strength every day. May and June, or the work I did in those two months, nearly used me up. I have placed Baby Nells picture in my diary, beside that of my wife, and never open it without first looking at them. Of one thing I am quite certain; we are on the best of terms, are baby and I. At first she was a little shy, or so I fancied, and frowned on me, as babies do on strangers. But now she smiles every time I take her —and so do I. If I do not come home until my three years of service expires, she will be eighteen months old, and I do love little babies so very dearly.
Friday, September 9. —Scrubbing day, but as Lieutenant Sterling was unwell, had the ceremony postponed. Charlie Amory received a box and letter from Major Anderson. The box contained clothing, and Charlie gave me a pair of drawers and a shirt, which were very welcome.
Camp At Summit Point, Virginia, September 9, 1864.
Dearest: — I received today your good letter of the 30th. I think I have got the most, perhaps, all of your back letters.
Speaking of politics: It is quite common for youngsters, adopting their parents’ notions, to get very bitter talk into their innocent little mouths. I was quite willing Webb should hurrah for Vallandigham last summer with the addition, “and a rope to hang him.” But I feel quite different about McClellan. He is on a mean platform and is in bad company, but I do not doubt his personal loyalty and he has been a soldier, and what is more a soldier’s friend. No man ever treated the private soldier better. No commander was ever more loved by his men. I therefore want my boys taught to think and talk well of General McClellan. I think he will make the best President of any Democrat. If on a sound platform, I could support him. Do not be alarmed. I do not think he will be elected. The improved condition of our military affairs injures his chances very materially. He will not get so large [an] army vote as his friends seem to expect. With reasonably good luck in the war, Lincoln will go in.
Have you any picture of Captain Gillis and Brigdon? Captain Austin had his arm amputated at the shoulder and died the night after. There was no saving him. Lieutenant Hubbard, supposed killed at Winchester, escaped from the Rebels and is now with us, well and strong. About half of the Fifth Virginia Volunteers leave us today. Colonel Enochs, Captain Poor, and others remain.
I do not know where the enemy is today. They were still in our front the day before yesterday. . . .
As ever your
R.
Mrs. Hayes.
[Dr. J. T. Webb writing to his nephews, the Hayes boys, from Camp Summit Point, Virginia, September 11, 1864, says:— “Since we left Charleston in April last, the Twenty-third Regiment has had three captains killed and three wounded, two lieutenants killed and three wounded, and about four hundred and fifty privates killed and wounded. We have marched on foot twelve hundred miles, travelled on steamboats and cars five hundred; fought six or eight battles, (worsted in but one — at Winchester), [and] skirmished with the enemy in front or rear sixty days. Since we came into Sheridan’s Army we have had comparatively easy times, as far as marching is concerned. In the way of skirmishing our division has had more than its share. Every few days an order came for us to go out and see where and what the enemy was doing. On one of these expeditions we killed and captured quite a number of the enemy without losing a man. This was fun for me. It was quite a battle, and our friends, back in camp, from the amount of firing, supposed we were having a hard time, and sent out thirty ambulances to carry in our wounded. Imagine their surprise when we returned them all empty. In our other skirmishes we lost more or less each time, but invariably worsted the enemy.”]
by John Beauchamp Jones
SEPTEMBER 9TH.—Rained last night; clear to-day.
We hear of great rejoicing in theUnited States over the fall ofAtlanta, and this may be premature. President Lincoln has issued a proclamation for thanksgiving in the churches, etc.
Mr. Benjamin informs the Secretary of War that the President has agreed to facilitate the emigration of Polish exiles and a few hundred Scotchmen, to come throughMexico, etc. The former will enter our service.
The “Hope” has arrived atWilmington with Sir Wm. Armstrong’s present of a fine 12-pounder, all its equipments, ammunition, etc. Also (for sale) two 150-pounder rifled guns, with equipments, etc.
