Following the American Civil War Sesquicentennial with day by day writings of the time, currently 1863.

Post image for Leverett Bradley: A Soldier-Boy’s Letters

Leverett Bradley: A Soldier-Boy’s Letters

October 2, 2014

Leverett Bradley: A Soldier-Boy's Letters (1st Massachusetts Heavy Artillery.)

Oct. 2nd. Moved to left early and supported the skirmishing line. The records of the day I shall not chronicle, but I shall never forget them. Moved back at night for fear we should get flanked.

[It is told in the regiment’s history what he declined to tell: “The brigade was ordered to make a demonstration on the enemy’s works, to ascertain their strength and, if possible, carry them. As we advanced the enemy opened a battery that was masked in the angle of his works, having a raking fire with canister and spherical case. Our support not coming up, we were obliged to retire. It was a very stubborn fight; officers and men were killed, wounded, and taken prisoners. It was known as ‘ Poplar Grove fight.’ “— Ed.]

War Diary of Luman Harris Tenney

October 2, 2014

War Diary of Luman Harris Tenney.

 

2nd. Sunday. Changed camp. Not unsaddled before enemy came up and charged pickets through town. 2nd N. Y. and 18th P. V. charged back, driving rebs over abutments into the river. Moved back near Dayton.

Post image for A Rebel War Clerk’s Diary.

A Rebel War Clerk’s Diary.

October 2, 2014

A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, By John Beauchamp Jones

October 2d—Cloudy and calm.

All quiet. It was a false alarm yesterday evening. Nothing but some of the enemy’s cavalry scouts were seen from the intermediate batteries, and it was merely a waste of ammunition on our part, and destruction of timber where the enemy were partially sheltered. Not a gun, so far as I can learn, was fired against our fortifications. Gen. Pemberton must have known that none of the enemy’s infantry and artillery had marched in this direction through the storm, and in the mud, or else our scouts are worthless.

But we have news of the capture of 500 more prisoners near Petersburg, yesterday. The particulars of the fight have not yet been received.

Every male between seventeen and fifty-five is now required to have a pass, from Gen. Kemper or Gen. Barton, to walk the streets, even to church. The militia are all out, except those hidden in the back rooms of their shops—extortioners; and the city is very quiet. No wonder the women and children were thrown into a panic yesterday.

The shelling did some good in the Saturday evening market, as most of the people were eager to get home. A boy sold me apples at 75 cents per quart, instead of $1.

The physicians have had a meeting, and agree to charge $30 per visit.

The bombardment is still in progress at Charleston, and there has never been any intermission. The enemy’s batteries now reach over two-thirds of that devoted city.

I see by a Northern paper that Gen. Grant is having his children educated at Burlington, N. J.; perhaps at the same institutions where mine were educated; and I perceive that our next door neighbor, Mrs. Kinsey, has been waving the “glorious Stars and Stripes” over Gen. G.’s head, from her ample porch. Well, I would not injure that flag; and I think it would never be assailed by the Southern people, if it were only kept at home, away from our soil. We have a flag of our own we prefer.

Post image for An Artilleryman’s Diary–Jenkin Lloyd Jones

An Artilleryman’s Diary–Jenkin Lloyd Jones

October 1, 2014

An Artilleryman's Diary–Jenkin Lloyd Jones, 6th Battery, Wisconsin Artillery.

Etowah Bridge, Saturday, Oct. 1. Company mess instituted this morning instead of platoon. Uncle Henderson, cook, two negro assistants. Drew soft bread for supper, which was duly appreciated after grinding hard-tack for fifteen days. Troops still going to the rear, while we are kept in blissful ignorance of all passing events by the non-arrival of Northern trains. I sometimes wish old Wheeler was dead, so I could get my mail. On guard.

Post image for A Diary From Dixie.

A Diary From Dixie.

October 1, 2014

A Diary From Dixie by Mary Boykin Miller Chesnut.

October 1st.—Mary Cantey Preston’s wedding day has come and gone and Mary is Mrs. John Darby now. Maggie Howell dressed the bride’s hair beautifully, they said, but it was all covered by her veil, which was of blond-lace, and the dress tulle and blond-lace, with diamonds and pearls. The bride walked up the aisle on her father’s arm, Mrs. Preston on Dr. Darby’s. I think it was the handsomest wedding party I ever saw. John Darby[1] had brought his wedding uniform home with him from England, and it did all honor to his perfect figure. I forget the name of his London tailor—the best, of course! “Well,” said Isabella, “it would be hard for any man to live up to those clothes.”

And now, to the amazement of us all, Captain Chesnut (Johnny) who knows everything, has rushed into a flirtation with Buck such as never was. He drives her every day, and those wild, runaway, sorrel colt’s terrify my soul as they go tearing, pitching, and darting from side to side of the street. And my lady enjoys it. When he leaves her, he kisses her hand, bowing so low to do it unseen that we see it all.

[1] After the war, Dr. Darby became professor of Surgery in the University of the City of New York; he had served as Medical Director in the Army of the Confederate States and as Professor of Anatomy and Surgery in the University of South Carolina; had also served with distinction in European wars.

Post image for Downing’s Civil War Diary.–Alexander G. Downing.

Downing’s Civil War Diary.–Alexander G. Downing.

October 1, 2014

Diary of Alexander G. Downing; Company E, Eleventh Iowa Infantry

Saturday, 1st—This afternoon the Third and Fourth Divisions of the Seventeenth Corps started on an expedition toward Fairburn, Georgia, where, it is reported, there is a large force of the rebels. We marched about seven miles and went into bivouac for the night. I received a letter from David Cole of the Twenty-fourth Iowa. His regiment is now in the Shenandoah valley, Virginia.

Post image for Rutherford B. Hayes.

Rutherford B. Hayes.

October 1, 2014

Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes

Harrisonburg, Virginia, October 1, 1864.

Dearest: — The First Brigade has gone out six miles to grind up the wheat in that neighborhood — three mills there — and Dr. Joe has gone with them.

Colonel Powell just returned from Staunton. They burned all wheat stacks, mills, and barns with grain, and are driving in all cattle and horses. Large numbers of families are going out with us. Dunkards and Mennonites, good quiet people, are generally going to Ohio. I hope we shall move back in a day or two.

Our wounded all doing well. Only seven deaths in all the hospitals at Winchester. Miss Dix and Presidents of Christian and Sanitary Commissions with oceans of luxuries and comforts there, and the good people of Winchester to cook and help. [The] Sixth Corps take one street; [the] Nineteenth, the Main Street; and Crook’s, the Eastern. Rebel [wounded] and ours now there about three thousand. Twenty-third, thirty-three; Fifth, eight; Thirty-sixth, thirteen, and Thirteenth, twenty. All the rest gone home. Captain Hiltz, Twelfth-Twenty-third, lost his leg. As soon as the operation was over and the effect of the chloroform passed off, he looked at the stump and said: “No more eighteen dollars for boots to sutler now; nine dollars [will] shoe me!” Captain Hastings doing well; heard from him last night.

General Lightburn came up a day or two ago with staff and orderlies and asked General Crook for the command of my division. He had reported along the road that he was going out to take General Crook’s old division. General Crook told him the division was officered to his satisfaction and ordered him back to Harpers Ferry to await orders.

Colonel Duval is doing well and hopes to return by the last of this month (October).

Colonel Comly keeps a pretty full diary. He has sent extracts containing the two battles home. They will probably appear in the Cincinnati Gazette.

I shall send a Rebel’s diary to the Commercial. It was taken from his pocket at Winchester.

We rather expect to go into something like winter quarters soon after getting back to Winchester or Martinsburg. Of course there will be extensive campaigning done yet, but we think we shall now be excused. I speak of Crook’s Command. — Love to all.

Affectionately ever,

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

Post image for Village Life in America.

Village Life in America.

October 1, 2014

Village Life in America, 1852 - 1872, by Caroline Cowles Richards

October 1.—Mr Noah T. Clarke accompanied his brother to-day to the old home in Naples and found two other soldier brothers, William and Joseph, had just arrived on leave of absence from the army so the mother’s heart sang “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.” The fourth brother has also returned to his home in Illinois, disabled.

Post image for War Diary and Letters of Stephen Minot Weld.

War Diary and Letters of Stephen Minot Weld.

October 1, 2014

War diary and letters of Stephen Minot Weld

Saturday, October 1. — Lieutenant Bell escaped last night, and was brought in this morning. He wandered round the town and played billiards. He got on a train, but was put off by the conductor. About 100 sailors and some officers came up from Charleston. They are to wait here and go on with the navy officers to Richmond and be exchanged. Rained during the night. Had our room scrubbed out. Had a fire in our room in the evening. Lieutenant Sterling received a letter.

Post image for Three Years in the Confederate Horse Artillery — George Michael Neese.

Three Years in the Confederate Horse Artillery — George Michael Neese.

October 1, 2014

Three Years in the Confederate Horse Artillery — George Michael Neese.

October 1 — This morning we were ordered back to Charlottesville. We loaded our horses on the cars as quickly as possible, but the train was tired before we started and moved very slowly all day; it was after dark when we arrived at Charlottesville. We fooled around the depot in Charlottesville an hour or two waiting for something so inscrutable that a private can never fathom the what for, but at last we got orders to pet aboard the train once more, and we moved up to Ivy Depot, the first station above Charlottesville, where we are now unloading our horses. The mud here in the railroad yard is about six inches deep and well stirred up. It is now midnight and we are still unloading horses, which seems to be a slow and tedious business in dark and rainy weather. The night is as dark as pitch, and the rain is coming down steadily, as it has been doing all day, which renders horse shipping a glorious business, especially when they have to be unloaded at midnight.

The falling rain is putting the mud in first-class condition to run in a fellow’s shoes. I am wet, hungry, and sleepy, my shoes are full of mud inside and out, and I feel anything but comfortable. If the Yankees do not shoot me I will remember all the contents of this dreary night, many days hence.

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