September, Sunday 11, 1864

Mrs. Johnson, Mary Lou, Maj. Cheatham and Woodie went to Church, Lou, Mrs. Reynolds & I spent the morning reading, &c—All slept in the afternoon. Mr. Clapp & Lucas arrived from Holly Spring, found his Wife doing her own work. The Yanks made a complete wreck of every thing in their last raide. Lou, Mary Lou & I went up to Mr. Hamilton’s after tea—had a very pleasant evening, and beautiful moonlight walk—

Saturday, 10th.—Reported there is an armistice for ten days, to remove citizens out of Atlanta. Oh, that the time may soon come when we will all be permitted to return to our homes in peace.

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

September 10th. This morning brings rain, making camp life very miserable again. Heavy cannonading to the south, in the direction of the Winchester and Berryville Pike. The enemy is still in the valley. General Early will have to keep a sharp lookout for our gallant Phil Sheridan. A large mail received today. A very great pleasure to receive letters from home and friends in good old Connecticut. The weather clear at noon. Fine.

10th.—We must give up our rooms by the last of this month, and the question now arises about our future abode. We are searching hither and thither. We had thought for a week past that our arrangements were most delightfully made, and that we had procured, together with Dr. M. and Colonel G., six rooms in a house on Franklin Street. The arrangement had been made, and the proprietor gone from town. The M’s and ourselves were to take four rooms in the third story; the back parlour on the first floor was to be used by all parties; and Colonel G, would take the large front basement room as his chamber, and at his request, as our dining-room, as we could not be allowed to use the upper chambers as eating-rooms. Our large screen was to be transferred to the Colonel’s bedstead and washing apparatus, and the rest of the room furnished in dining-room style. These rooms are all furnished and carpeted. Nothing could have suited us better, and we have been for some days anticipating our comfortable winter-quarters. The M’s have left town with the blissful assurance of a nice home; to add to it all, the family of the proprietor is all that we could desire as friends and companions. Last night I met with a friend, who asked me where we had obtained rooms. I described them with great alacrity and pleasure. She looked surprised, and said, “Are you not mistaken? those rooms are already occupied.” “Impossible,” said I; “we have engaged them.” She shook her head, saying, ” There was some mistake; they have been occupied for some days by a family, who say that they have rented them.” None but persons situated exactly in the same way can imagine our disappointment. The Colonel looked aghast; Mr. –– pronounced it a mistake; the girls were indignant, and I went a little farther, and pronounced it bad treatment. This morning I went up before breakfast to hear the truth of the story—the family is still absent, but the servants confirmed the statement by saying that a family had been in the rooms that we looked at for a week, and that a gentleman, a third party, had been up the day before to claim the rooms, and said that the party occupying them had no right to them, and must be turned out. The servant added, that this third gentleman had sent up a dray with flour which was now in the house, and had put his coal in the coal-cellar. All this seems passing strange. Thus have we but three weeks before us in which to provide ourselves with an almost impossible shelter. The “Colonel” has written to Mr. –– for an explanation, and the M’s have been apprised of their dashed hopes. I often think how little the possessors of the luxurious homes of Richmond know of the difficulties with which refugees are surrounded, and how little we ever appreciated the secure home-feeling which we had all enjoyed before the war began. We have this evening been out again in pursuit of quarters. The advertisements of [continue reading…]

Saturday, 10th–A large number were sent to the front this morning. Jeremiah Argo of Company E, who had been among the wounded, was one of them. It is reported that the rebels are planning to raid this place, for we have but few soldiers here to defend it.

10th. Saturday. Busy over monthly papers. Letter from home. Fixed up my commissary returns.[1]

[1] ‘In my possession are a large number of these duplicate packages of “Monthly Returns of Quartermasters Stores,” “Monthly Returns of Clothing, Camp and Garrison Equipage, Abstracts, Vouchers,” etc., etc., all carefully assorted and securely fastened. (F. D. T.) The following is a copy of one of the vouchers: “I certify on honor that during the months of November and December, 1864, the following quartermasters’ stores were necessarily expended under my direction in Co. C, 2nd Ohio Cav.: 113, one hundred and thirteen grain sacks (worn). During the greater portion of this time our Regiment has been continually moving and these sacks have been used for bedding, for horses and men.

Luman H. Tenney,

Capt. 2nd Ohio Cav. Camp Russell, Va.,

December 30, 1864. Com’d’g Co. C.”

SEPTEMBER 10th.—Slight showers, and warm.

Gen. J. H. Morgan was betrayed by a woman, a Mrs. Williamson, who was entertaining him.

Custis made an estimate of the white male population in seven States this side of the Mississippi, leaving out Tennessee, between the ages of fifteen and fifty, for Gen. Kemper, for Gen. Lee, which is 800,000, subject to deduction of those between fifteen and seventeen, disabled, 250,000, leaving 550,000—enough for defense for several years yet, if the Bureau of Conscription were abolished and a better system adopted.

It is said the draft is postponed or abandoned in the United States. I hope so.

Two 32-pounder guns passed down the river to-day on this side. We shall probably hear from them soon, and then, perhaps—lose them.

September, Saturday 10, 1864

Today has been rather warm, and very idly spent by me. We have played Cards or backgammon most of the time. Lou and I beat Mrs. Reynolds and Maj. Cheatham badly after Tea. No news today, and nothing to write in my Diary—Of course ’tis always pleasant to me, I have always been happy since my stay at Waverly.

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.

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.

SEPTEMBER 9th.—Rained last night; clear to-day.

We hear of great rejoicing in the United States over the fall of Atlanta, 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 through Mexico, etc. The former will enter our service.

The “Hope” has arrived at Wilmington 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.

September, Friday 9, 1864

Very cool and delightful—I finished my foullard Silk—if the weather improves as fast as it has done for the last few days, I think I will soon be left high and dry in my white dresses.

We had a call from some young Ladies of Columbus, Miss Jennie Ebert, Misses Williams, Capt. Martin and our little friend Therese. No news with them, nor have we heard any of importance today. Lou, Mary Lou & I called on Mrs. Young this evening—We had a game of Cards, Lou and I were not so fortunate, Maj. Cheatham & Mary Lou ran very evenly with us—

Thursday, 8th.—General Morgan killed at Greeneville, Tenn.

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

September 8th. This morning comes in cool and very cloudy. An opportunity given us to send money home. I sent seventy dollars to put in bank. Did not wish to carry so much with me. One cannot tell what might happen to a soldier, for we remember that every battle kills a soldier. Orders came about ten A. M. to fall in, double quick. The result was we made a forced march across country, through muddy lots, until we came to Summit Point, near the Winchester Pike. A hard march that put us on the right of the line of battle. A march of about ten miles from Charlestown to Winchester Pike. Why it was a forced march in a cold rain storm, we cannot tell. It was through Virginia sticky mud. At this point all things seem to be quiet. Orders to make camp and put up our shelter tents. This all comes in the life of a soldier in the field during war. Obey orders and don’t ask questions.

Thursday, 8th–Cool and cloudy with some rain today. All is quiet.^[1]

[1] Sherman’s army went into permanent camp in the vicinity of Atlanta for a much needed rest. The camps were in the timber and the men had good water.—A. G. D.

Near Eastpoint, September 8, 1864.

We are again in camp for a rest; don’t know for how long. What do you think now of the confidence I have so often expressed to you in Sherman and his army? I have every hour of the campaign felt that a failure in it was impossible.

8th. Thursday. Rainy and cool. Lay still all day. Read “Charles Vivasseur.” Wagons came up, oats and rations. Wrote home and to Mrs. Wood.

SEPTEMBER 8th.—Bright and cool; subsequently cloudy and warm.

Dispatches from Gen. Hood (Sept 7th) state—1st dispatch: that Sherman still holds his works one and a half miles from Jonesborough. 2d dispatch, same date: “Sherman continues his retreat!” He says, in a 3d dispatch, that Sherman visited the hospitals, and said he would rest awhile at Atlanta, and then march away to Andersonville, where we keep the Federal prisoners. Although Hood attaches no importance to declarations from such a source, yet he deems it a matter of first importance to remove the prisoners, which suggestion Gen. Bragg refers to the Secretary of War without remark. Gen. Hood also urges the reinforcing of his army from the trans-Mississippi Department. He is sending a brigade to Opelika, to await a raid.

Gen. Forrest has been ordered, the President approving, to Middle Tennessee; but, contrary to his desire, he is not allowed to proclaim amnesty to the thousands of deserters expected to join him, so firmly do the President and Gen. Bragg adhere to Gen. Lee’s advice never to proclaim pardon in advance to deserters, even at this critical epoch in our affairs.

All of us have been made sick by eating red peas, or rather overeating.

Our cause is in danger of being lost for want of horses and mules, and yet I discovered to-day that the government has been lending horses to men who have but recently suffered some of the calamities of war! I discovered it in a letter from the Hon. R. M. T. Hunter, of Essex County, asking in behalf of himself and neighbors to be permitted to retain the borrowed horses beyond the time specified—Oct. 1st. Mr. Hunter borrowed two horses and four mules. He is worth millions, and only suffered (having a mill burned) his first loss by the enemy a few weeks ago! Better, far better, would it be for the Secretary to borrow or impress one hundred thousand horses, and mount our infantry to cut the communications of the enemy, and hover on his flanks like the Cossacks in Russia.

September, Thursday 8, 1864

Maj. C. Capt. D. and Eddie all left after breakfast for West Point.

We have had comparatively a quiet day. No news of importance from any point.

Wednesday, 7th.—Our wounded brought down from Jonesboro to-day. Yanks gone back to Atlanta.

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

September 7th. Storm cleared up this morning, for which we are very thankful. Relieved from picket by a company from the 12th West Virginia Regiment. Wrote a few letters. Weather clear and cool. Trying to get rest and sleep. When off duty call on members of other regiments. Very pleasant to become acquainted with soldiers from the different states.

Wednesday, 7th–The weather is still quite pleasant. There is nothing of any importance. All is quiet. Ward E is on the ground floor of the same building as Ward D, but at the rear of the building, and is a poor place to put sick men for any length of time, as it is poorly ventilated.

September 7, 1864.

At 7 a.m. moved out on our return, and camped for the night on the left bank of Flint river, six miles south of Eastpoint. The Rebels had fortified to this place, and I don’t know how much farther south. As soon as Hood found out that Sherman was attempting to turn his left, he commenced extending his lines down the railroad. He had built six miles of new works when we reached Jonesboro the night of the 30th of August. His line was too long for his troops, so he sent two corps to oppose us, and the 23d and 4th moved into the vacant space in his line right over his works.

7th. Wednesday. Division moved out at 4:30. Our regiment in rear, reconnoissance. Went within two miles of Winchester, found the enemy and returned–sharp firing. In camp at dark.