10th. Issued beef in the morning. After cleaning up and inspection, Mr. Brown preached. Small audience but good sermon. Psalms 2-11. He seems to study his sermons. Took dinner with Capt. Nettleton and Lt. Case at a widow’s in town. Very genteel and pretty lady. Read. Went to the woods and let Rowena graze.
Friday, May 10, 2013
MAY 10TH—Left camp after dinner. Dinner generally means noon, but our dinner-time on the march is quite irregular. Advanced unmolested till within about three miles of Utica, and camped again at dark.
This forenoon my bunk-mate (Cal. Waddle) and I went to a house near camp to get some corn bread, but struck the wrong place, for we found the young mistress who had just been deserted by her negroes, all alone, crying, with but a scant allowance of provisions left her. She had never learned to cook, and in fact was a complete stranger to housework of any kind. Her time is now at hand to learn the great lesson of humanity. There has been a little too much idleness among these planters. But although I am glad the negroes are free I don’t like to see them leaving a good home, for good homes some of them I know are leaving. They have caught the idea from some unknown source that freedom means fine dress, furniture, carriages and luxuries. Little do they yet know of the scripture—”In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread.” I am for the Emancipation Proclamation, but I do not believe in cheating them. This lady’s husband is a confederate officer now in Vicksburg, who told her when he left she should never see a Yankee “down thar” Well, we had to tell her we were “thar,” though, and to our question what she thought of us, after wiping her eyes her reply was we were very nice looking fellows. We were not fishing for compliments, but we like to get their opinions at sight, for they have been led, apparently, to expect to find the Lincoln soldier more of a beast than human. At least such is the belief among the lower sort. Negroes and poor whites here seem to be on an equality, so far as education is concerned and the respect of the better classes. I have not seen a single school-house since I have been in Dixie, and I do not believe such a thing exists outside of their cities. But this war will revolutionize things, and among others I hope change this state of affairs for the better.
War is a keen analyzer of a soldier’s character. It reveals in camp, on the march and in battle the true principles of the man better than they are shown in the every-day walks of life. Here he has a chance to throw off the vicious habits of the past, and take such a stand as to gain a lasting reputation for good, or, if be dies upon the field, the glory of his achievements, noble deeds and soldierly bearing in camp will live in the memory of his comrades. Every soldier has a personal history to make, which will be agreeable, or not, as he chooses. A company of soldiers are as a family; and, if every member of it does his duty towards the promotion of good humor, much will be done toward softening the hardships of that sort of life.
This is Sunday, and few seem to realize it. I would not have known it myself but for my diary. I said, “boys this is Sunday.” Somebody asked, “how do you know it is?” I replied my diary told me. Another remarked, “you ought to tell us then when Sunday comes round so we can try to be a little better than on week days.” While in regular camps we have had preaching by the Chaplains, but now that we are on the move that service is dispensed with, and what has become of the Chaplains now I am unable to say. Probably buying and selling cotton, for some of them are regular tricksters, and think more of filling their own pockets with greenbacks than the hearts of soldiers with the word of God
Sunday, May 10th.
On the cars between Meridian and Selma tried to get transportation at Jackson to Augusta, but the quartermaster declined to give it to me; took it to Atlanta and will try to get it to Augusta from there. Left Jackson at 6 o’clock yesterday evening; Greggs’ Brigade had just come in from Port Hudson; met several regiments at Meridian going to Vicksburg and to the fortifications between Vicksburg and Jackson; reached Meridian at 3:30 a. m. and floundered about the depot until 5 o’clock and got a pretty good breakfast for a dollar and a half, and started at 6 o’clock for Selma; reached the landing at 11 o’clock; had a tedious time changing baggage and then only went four miles up the river to Demopolis and went through another tedious lugging of baggage from one point to another, and finally sat in the cars for an hour and a half bored and hungry; got off at last and went rattling through beautiful fields of corn nearly all the way to Selma; took the steamer Cherokee from Montgomery and am now on my way up the river, and, Oh! what would I not give to have Mary and the children with me now, for the route is comparatively easy from here to Columbia.
May 10. — To-day has been the first real summer’s day we have had, the sun being warm enough to make one feel uncomfortable. I went back with John Perry to his camp, and spent a few hours there in the evening. John was here to dinner. Expected a move again to-night, but had none.
Md. Heights, May 10, 1863.
Dear Family:
Glad to hear that the Capt. is improving. The rumor here is that Richmond is taken. It was nearly “taps” last night and I was preparing to turn in, when the cry was to fall in. I dressed immediately and went out. The Lieut, read a letter from Major R. to the effect that Keyes had taken Richmond. I can assure you there was some tall cheering. It further stated that extras were being issued in Phil’a, N. Y. and Boston and that the people were perfectly crazy with excitement; but he also says, dont think too much of it, it may need conformation. The dispatch was from Head Quarters at Baltimore to Genl. Kelly, and it doesn’t seem possible that they would send it unless they were very confident it was so. If you have got the news there and are making such a time over it, such as firing salutes &c. &c. and then it should turn out to be a hoax, what a feeling of despondency would invade the heart of every true soldier and worse than that, what would be the feelings of the people of the whole north! I do hope and pray that it is taken, and if so, see the position Lee’s army is in; it has no chance of escape; there is also a rumor that Vicksburg is taken by the combined forces of Genl. Grant and Rear Admiral Porter; this does not look so promising as the other, considering the relative positions of the two forces; but still I hope it may be so. I see the conscription act is going into effect soon. It makes the boys delighted, because they want to see some of those rabid men in Methuen. Just been up on the parapet of the fort signalling to the 30 Prd Battery; on account of the sun, can only make out “good news.” I hope so, the Capt. is going down to see. I wish you were here to see the sight we see every day and that is, the different valleys visable in all parts from here; the grass has put on his coat and the trees have begun to bud. To speak plainly, it is the most beautiful scenery I ever looked on. The Capt. has got back; the news is confirmed of the taking of Richmond with 70 cannon. Much love to all from
Lev.
May 10.—General Thomas Jonathan Jackson, commonly known as “Stonewall” Jackson, of the rebel army, died at Guinness Station, Va., from the effects of the amputation of his arm, and an attack of pneumonia which followed it.
—Brigadier-general Davidson prohibited in the Department of Missouri, the sale or distribution of the Freeman’s Journal of New-York, the New-York Caucasian, the Columbus (Ohio) Crisis, the Democratic Journal of Jerseyville, the Chicago Times, and the Dubuque Herald.
—The National gunboats Owasco, Lieutenant Commanding John Madigan, and Katahdin, Lieutenant Commanding P. C. Johnson, after a chase of twenty miles succeeded in beaching the blockade runner West-Florida, on Galveston Island, Texas.
—The anniversary of the capture of Camp Jackson, Mo., was celebrated this day. Speeches were made by Charles D. Drake, C. P. Johnson, Major George P. Strong, and others.—Missouri Democrat.
—Early this morning the attack by the National fleet of mortar-schooners and gunboats on the rebel batteries at Port Hudson was renewed. This time the batteries replied to the fire of the fleet; but, after a bombardment of three hours’ duration, they were completely silenced.
Stoneman Station, Va.,
Sunday, May 10, 1863.
Dear Mother:—
I wrote to E. on Monday. Perhaps I better continue my journal. We were then lying in line of battle, and soon after my letter was off, our Second brigade went out to feel of the rebels, and stirred up a muss that we expected would result in a general engagement. The firing was sharp for half an hour, our men retreating till the rebels had followed into range of the artillery, which opened on them, and they soon fell back. That was the last of the fighting. During the night the pickets had a sharp skirmish and we were called to our guns, but it soon died away and we slept again. We, I say, for I counted myself in. I do not carry a gun, and in battle as a musician I am in charge of the surgeons to carry off the wounded. This did not suit me at all. It involved the necessity of going on the field, and I am too much of a coward to walk quietly where bullets whistle and have nothing to say myself. When I can return ball for ball, cheer, and shout defiance to the enemy, my courage is as good as anybody’s, but not to walk through them with my hands full. So, on the first appearance of fight, I picked up a rifle and cartridge box and joined Company K. Our good fortune kept us out of the fight, but I felt much better with the company than anywhere else. But this is a digression. Tuesday was very quiet. In the afternoon a tremendous thunder shower burst upon us. Our trenches in an hour’s time were full of water. The rain continued all night, yes, for three days.
About 2 o’clock Wednesday morning we were ordered to pack up silently, and in a few minutes we were on the retreat. To say we were surprised would give but a feeble idea of our feelings. We felt more confident than ever that we could repulse all that could be brought against us. But for some reason, satisfactory to General Hooker no doubt, we did recross the river, and night saw us in our old camps. The Eighty-third had the post of honor, the last regiment to cross, and our brigade was the rear guard, but we were not molested. It was one of the hardest marches we ever had, and I am stiff and sore from the effects of it. Most of the way the mud was over shoe, in some places knee deep, and the rain made our loads terrible to tired shoulders, but it is all over now.
We have eight days’ rations again, and orders to be ready to move at any time.
by John Beauchamp Jones
MAY 10TH.—Detachments of Federal troops are now marching into the city every few hours, guarded by (mostly) South Carolinians, dressed in home-spun, died yellow with the bark of the butternut-tree. Yesterday evening, at 7 o’clock, a body of 2000 arrived, being marched in by way of the Brooke Pike, near to my residence. Only 200 Butternuts had them in charge, and a less number would have sufficed, for they were extremely weary. Some of them, however, attempted to be humorous.
A young officer asked one of the spectators if the “Libby” (the prison) was the best house in the city to put up at. He was answered that it was the best he would find.
Another passed some compliment on a mulatto wench, who replied: “Go long, you nasty Abolition Yankee.”
One of our soldiers taken at Arkansas Post, just exchanged, walked along with the column, and kept repeating these words: “Now you know how we felt when you marched us through your cities.”
But generally a deep silence was maintained, and neither insult nor indignity offered the fallen foe. Other columns are on the way—and how they are to be subsisted is a vexatious question.
The Washington papers of the day preceding the first battle contain Hooker’s address to his army—how different from Lee’s! It is short, though: [click to continue…]
