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AN ARTILLERYMAN'S DIARY
[Illustration: Jenkin Lloyd Jones]
Wisconsin History Commission: Original Papers, No. 8
AN ARTILLERYMAN'S DIARY
BY JENKIN LLOYD JONES
Private Sixth Wisconsin Battery
WISCONSIN HISTORY COMMISSION
FEBRUARY, 1914
TWENTY-FIVE HUNDRED COPIES PRINTED
Copyright, 1914
The Wisconsin History Commission
(in behalf of the State of Wisconsin)
Opinions or errors of fact on the part of the respective authors of the
Commission's publications (whether Reprints or Original Narratives) have
not been modified or corrected by the Commission. For all statements, of
whatever character, the Author alone is responsible.
DEMOCRAT PRINTING CO., STATE PRINTER
CONTENTS
PAGE
WISCONSIN HISTORY COMMISSION ix
AUTHOR'S PREFACE xi
AN ARTILLERYMAN'S DIARY:
First impressions 1
Up and down the Mississippi and Yazoo 35
Encircling Vicksburg 48
The siege of Vicksburg 59
A well-earned rest 78
At work again 92
En route to Chattanooga 102
With Grant at Chattanooga 132
In winter quarters 148
On to Atlanta 221
Watching Hood 268
Wintering at Nashville 289
Garrisoning Chattanooga 303
Victory 318
Awaiting discharge 338
Homeward bound 358
Home at last 363
INDEX 369
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Portrait of the Author _Frontispiece_
A Group of Comrades 128
A Group of Officers 250
Entry in diary, December 20, 1864.
Photographic facsimile 290
Portraits of Author taken in 1862, 1863, 1865 358
Group of Sixth Wisconsin Battery, taken in 1897 364
WISCONSIN HISTORY COMMISSION
(Organized under the provisions of Chapter 298, Laws of 1905, as amended
by Chapter 378, Laws of 1907, Chapter 445, Laws of 1909, Chapter 628,
Laws of 1911, and Chapter 772, Section 64, Laws of 1913)
FRANCIS E. McGOVERN
_Governor of Wisconsin_
CHARLES E. ESTABROOK
_Representing Department of Wisconsin, Grand Army of the
Republic_
MILO M. QUAIFE
_Superintendent of the State Historical Society of Wisconsin_
CARL RUSSELL FISH
_Professor of American History in the University of Wisconsin_
MATTHEW S. DUDGEON
_Secretary of the Wisconsin Free Library Commission_
* * * * *
_Chairman_, Commissioner Estabrook
_Secretary and Editor_, Carl Russell Fish
_Committee on Publications_, Commissioners Dudgeon and Fish
AUTHOR'S PREFACE
Whatever value this publication may have, lies in the fact that it
offers a typical case--a small cross section of the army that freed the
slave and saved the Union.
The Editor of the Commission's publications has asked me to state
briefly something about myself. I am one of the multitude of
"hyphenated" Americans, born across the water but reared under the flag.
I am a Cambro-American, proud of both designations, and with abundant
heart, loyalty, and perhaps too much head pride in both. Introduced to
this world in Llandyssul, Cardiganshire, Wales, November 14, 1843, I
celebrated my first anniversary by landing at Castle Garden, in New York
City. My parents were sturdy "come-outers" who, after the manner called
"heresy", even among Protestants, worshipped the God of their fathers.
They came from what in orthodox parlance was known as the "Smwtyn Du"
the heretical "black-spot" in Wales. I am the third Jenkin Jones to
preach that liberal interpretation of Christianity generally known as
Unitarianism. The first Jenkin Jones preached his first heretical sermon
in his mother's garden way back in 1726, ninety-three years before
Channing preached his Baltimore sermon (1819), from which latter event
American Unitarianism generally dates its beginning.
My father was a prosperous hatter-farmer--making hats for the local
markets during the winter months, tilling his little ten-acre farm
during the summer time. My parents were lured to America by the
democracy here promised. In our family, freedom was a word to conjure
by. Hoping for larger privileges for the growing family of children,
they brought them to the New World, the world of many intellectual as
well as material advantages. The long sea voyage of six weeks in a
sailing vessel, interrupted by a dismantling storm which compelled the
ship to return for repairs after two weeks sailing, brought them into
the teeth of winter, too late in the season to reach their objective
point in the West. So the journey was suspended and the first winter
spent in a Welsh settlement near Steuben, New York.
May, 1845, found us in the then territory of Wisconsin. The broad,
fertile, and hospitable open prairie country in southern Wisconsin was
visited and shunned as a desert land, "a country so poor that it would
not grow a horse-switch." And so, three "forties" of government land
were entered in the heavy woods of Rock River valley, forty miles west
of Milwaukee, midway between Oconomowoc and Watertown, which then were
pioneer villages. The land was bought at $1.20 an acre, then were
purchased a yoke of oxen and two cows; and when these were paid for,
there remained one gold sovereign ($5) to start life with--father,
mother, and six children.
Trees were felled for the log house which for the first six months was
roofed with basswood bark, for the shingles had not only to be made, but
the art of making them had to be acquired. In this log house were spent
the first twelve remembered years of my life. In it four more children
were born. In the log school-house, built in the middle of the road
because it was built before the road was there--we had arrived before
the surveyor--I learned to speak, read, and love the English language.
My first teacher was a Cambro-American who could by her bi-lingual
accomplishment ease the way of the little Welsh immigrant children into
English. I think I can remember crying when the teacher would speak to
me in the then unintelligible English.
In 1856, my thirteenth year, the family began to realize that they had
chosen a hard place in which to make a home. The battle would have been
a grim one, with the tall trees and their stumps, the "hardhead"
boulders, the marshes, the mosquitoes, and the semi-annual attack of
ague, had it not been lightened with the blind hopes and the
inspirations that bring to frontier lives the consolations and
encouragements of the pioneer. So the home in Ixonia, that had welcomed
the coming of the first plank-road and witnessed the approach of the La
Crosse & Milwaukee Railroad as far as Oconomowoc, was sold, and in 1855
we moved to a farm of 400 acres in Sauk County.
The next year this was reached by the old Milwaukee & Mississippi
Railroad and the village of Spring Green was established, adjoining the
farm. Here I worked on the farm in the summer time, and during the
winter time grew with the growing village school in Spring Green. During
the spring term of school, in 1861, the boys were organized into the
Spring Green Guards. "Billy" Hamilton, a clerk in George Pound's store,
was excused by his employer during the noon hour and the recesses, to
come over to drill us. The tresses, black or golden, were sacrificed.
Our hair was "shingled" and we wore cadet caps. Of course the boys had
been stirred when they heard of the humiliation preceding the
inauguration of Lincoln, of the firing on Sumter; and in the autumn all
of the Spring Green Guards who were ripe enough heard and heeded the
call of Father Abraham. Captain "Billy" Hamilton went out as sergeant in
the 6th Wisconsin Battery, and four years later came back as colonel at
the head of the 36th Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry.
I was too young to go out in 1861. I cannot say that I panted for the
fray. I dreaded the coming of the dire moment when conscience, not the
government, would deliver me into a service that had no charm for me.
Another winter's schooling in the Spring Green Academy, another sowing
and harvest time, then leaving unstacked the hay that I had mown, and in
the shocks the oats that I had cradled, I obeyed this "stern daughter of
the voice of God"--to use Wordsworth's phrase--and turned my face to the
South. I joined my old comrades of the Spring Green Guards in the 6th
Wisconsin Battery, nine months or so after their first enlistment.
I was a "mother's boy", and with the exception of three months'
district schooling at an aunt's house in Watertown, when a little lad,
had never been away from home over night. I had not then and have not
since, owned a firearm of any description. As I approach my
three-score-and-ten, I can say that I have never sighted a gun, or
pulled the trigger on anything smaller than a cannon, and that only when
ordered.
It seems necessary for me to state further, that throughout the three
years of camp life, as through all the succeeding years, I have been a
total abstainer from all forms of liquor and tobacco. The strictures
throughout the Diary concerning the over-use of intoxicants were written
from this standpoint, and perhaps were over stated. At least truth
requires that I should at this distance testify that the bulk of the
Union Army, so largely made up of boys, was of stern stuff, with their
lives rooted in seriousness and committed to sobriety, as the subsequent
careers of those who were allowed to return amply prove. Many things set
forth in this Diary were necessarily untrue to fact, but there is
nothing but what was true to the thought and feeling of the writer at
the time. The simplicity of the narrative and the lapse of time, will, I
hope, take all the barbs out of any random shafts that may have been
fired by a battery boy.
The monotonous story of this battery boy is told in long metre in the
Diary here published. The only remarkable thing about the record is,
that it exists and is still available fifty years after the writing. Of
course every soldier lad started to keep a diary. Very few persisted to
the end; rare is the private who did not outlast his own diary. And then
again, the vicissitudes of the camp, the hopeless carelessness of the
American people to contemporary history, have carried to oblivion most
of such records. These ten little memorandum books would doubtless have
suffered a like fate, were it not for the vigilance of the home folk, to
whose care the successive volumes were promptly consigned. And then many
years after, there was the loving, unsolicited persistency of a
faithful amanuensis, who, unbeknown to me, in the "cracks of time,"
patiently and faithfully transcribed the entire story, which was fast
becoming illegible in the original camp- and battle-stained little
books, to the clear, typewritten sheets which made them available to the
Wisconsin History Commission. To Miss Minnie Burroughs, now Mrs. Herbert
Turner of Berkeley, California, belongs therefore the basic credit for
this publication.
Further acknowledgment is due to the Editor of the Commission, and to
several of his able assistants on the editorial staff of the Wisconsin
Historical Society. They have with great painstaking verified every word
of the transcription with my original gnarled manuscript, have corrected
(so far as possible by the official rolls) the names of the persons whom
I have mentioned in the Diary, have read the proof, and in general have
put the book through the press. This has involved an amount of labor
which under the circumstances I could not have given, and without which
the publication would have been inexcusable. It is the Editor's
intelligent hand also that furnished most of the geographical
date-lines, the paragraphing, the folio headings, the sub-heads, and the
countless other editorial embellishments so essential to a presentable
publication. * * * Technical work of this sort is entirely lost on the
reader, of course, but it is profoundly appreciated by at least the
present grateful author.
The post-bellum story of this journalizing private of the 6th Wisconsin
Battery does not belong in this book. Should anyone be curious to
connect the soldier in uniform with the militant citizen, who, with more
pacific weapons, has continued his contentions for freedom, justice, and
union, let the following suffice. There was a year's work on the new
farm in Iowa County; then a winter of teaching the common school at
Arena, Wisconsin, with ninety children, ranging from the little German
child grappling with her English A. B. C.'s, to students in algebra and
geometry. During one year there was an honest attempt to accept the path
apparently laid out for me--that of an honest, hard-working farmer. And
then the hunger for books, the blind push on thought lines, the
half-unrecognized leadings towards another career, broke beyond control,
and I left the farm. Then came four years' study at the Theological
Seminary at Meadville, Pennsylvania; a pastorate of a year at Winnetka,
Illinois; nearly ten years of similar work at Janesville, Wisconsin, and
lastly a thirty-two years' ministry in All Souls Church, Chicago, which
I organized and in which I continue to work. For the last eight years I
have been head resident of the Abraham Lincoln Centre, which I founded
and which I still direct. For thirty-two years I have been Editor of
_Unity_, a weekly independent religious magazine, devoted to "Freedom,
Fellowship, and Character in Religion."
In 1890 I secured possession of a tract of land which was once the site
of the prosperous early Wisconsin village of Helena, on the banks of the
Wisconsin River in Iowa County, where in 1863 ex-Governor C. C. Washburn
and C. C. Woodman, two young men, founded a shot-making manufactory. The
old shot tower gave name to the summer encampment known as Tower Hill,
where, in connection with the little farm adjoining, I have found
vacation rest and renewal for the last twenty years.
Two graves have touched me with peculiar tenderness, and suggest the
unwritten and too often cruelly-neglected pathos in the life of the
immigrant pioneer, much of which I have seen, a part of which I have
been. A little sister, two years my senior, a fair blossom, wilted on
the journey and the little body was left in a roadside grave in Utica,
New York. I was too young to remember her, but through all the
succeeding years that unmarked and unvisited grave has left a hallowed
touch of tenderness in the home, and given to the missing one a potency
perhaps greater than abides with the unburied that remain.
Scarce a year had elapsed after the arrival in the "big woods" when the
fatherly uncle, the bachelor-partner whose name I bear, fell before the
relentless attack of fever--so easily controlled now, but so fatal then.
He died in a saw-mill at Oconomowoc, and the first grave in the
settlement was hollowed by the hands of his brother at the foot of a
great tree in the deep forest. The father and brother, who was "priest
unto his own household," read and prayed and woke the forest echoes with
his own voice, as he sang a sustaining old Welsh hymn. Perhaps this
devout tradition lying back of my memory has had much to do with what
faithfulness may have characterized the services of the private whose
Diary is here recorded, and the ministry whose career was bargained for,
to a degree that cannot be estimated in the sombre forest and the tented
field.
Perhaps another word may be pardoned. On the way to Camp Randall, the
tears which had scarcely dried from the heart-break that followed a
mother's last embrace, started afresh at the sight of the dome of the
old University building at Madison. For the months preceding the
enlistment, the struggle had been not choosing between home and camp.
No! not even between danger and safety, life and death, but what seemed
the final choice between a country to save and an education to acquire.
For in the dim haze of the farmer boy's horoscope, the University
outline was shaping itself. In choosing his country's cause it seemed to
him that he was relinquishing forever the hope of the education of which
he dreamed. Forty-seven years after the campus was dimmed with his
tears, the University of Wisconsin invested this private of the 6th
Wisconsin Battery with the degree of LL. D.
A great thing was done for humanity in America, between 1861 and 1865.
If it could not have been done otherwise, it was worth all it cost. And
if this same dire predicament were to come again, I would do my past
all over again. But Oh! it was such a wrong way of doing the right
thing! May the clumsy sentences of a boy's diary, so lacking in
perspective, so inadequate in expression, contribute a few sentences to
the Gospel of Peace.
[Illustration: Signature "Jenkin Lloyd Jones"]
Tower Hill, Wisconsin, September 9, 1913.
THE DIARY OF AN ARTILLERY PRIVATE
_A Journal of daily events during my campaign in the war to crush the
rebellion in 1861. If in the battle I may fall, or die away from the
withering hand of disease in the hospital, this favor may I ask, to send
this and what may accompany it to my aged parents. Addressed to R. Ll.
Jones, Lone Rock, Richland Co._
FIRST IMPRESSIONS
Spring Green, Wis., Thursday, Aug. 14, 1862. I enlisted under Lieutenant
Fancher for the 6th Battery, Wisconsin Artillery.
Madison, Wis., Monday, Aug. 25. I bade good-bye to friends, relatives
and companions most dear, and at 8 o'clock embarked for Madison to begin
my soldier's life. Arrived at camp at 12 M. and slept my first night on
the lap of mother earth with Uncle Sam's blanket for a coverlid and a
few rough boards raised about four feet in the center for a roof. I laid
down; my eyelids were heavy and demanded sleep but the mind wandered and
the stars shone bright and it was long ere sleep threw her curtain over
the scene.
Madison, Tuesday, Aug. 26. I got partially rested by my short sleep, but
I was awake long ere the rising of the sun. I awoke to a different scene
to which had hitherto been my lot. Instead of the lowing of cattle and
the bleating of sheep, was the rattle of the drum and the "hooray" of
the volunteers. To-day we were examined by the surgeon and went up-town
for the purpose of drawing our bounty money, but the press of business
was too large, and we were put off till the next day. In the evening I
had to bid good-bye to my brother John, who had accompanied me to camp.
It was a difficult task--my constant companion in labor, my adviser and
counsel in everything. I had to part. It seemed as if I was like a ship
on sea without a compass, without other safeguard than my own firmness
and weight.
Madison, Wednesday, Aug. 27. I had to pass through the regular
scramble-game for my rations, and drew the bounty in the afternoon, went
around town and bought my outfit, ready to leave.
Enroute, Thursday, Aug. 28. To-day we were informed that we were to be
sent on in the evening. I wrote my first letter home and in the evening
we started for "Dixie" at 10 P. M. It was dark and we could not see
anything to attract our attention so our minds had free scope to wander
home to loved ones, and it was a saddening thought that we were to leave
all of these, to meet at best a very uncertain fate. We passed on to
Milton where our car was uncoupled and taken up by the Janesville R. R.,
and off we rocked for another four or five hours' ride, half asleep, and
by this time somewhat fatigued. At Janesville we changed cars for
Chicago, it being about 1 A. M.
Enroute, Friday, Aug. 29. The day dawned just in time to see the suburbs
(Chicago). We being about five miles from town received a magnificent
view of the Western metropolis. The immense clouds of smoke issuing from
the massive stacks of manufacture, and the countless rigging of the
vessels lying at the dock were great sights to my country eyes. We
arrived at the end of the line at 6:30 A. M. We were immediately formed
in line, and forward march to the depot of the I[llinois] C[entral] R.
R. about a mile distant. We were no sooner there than the shrill whistle
told us we were again on a ride of three hundred and sixty-five miles to
Cairo, without intermission. We crossed an arm of Lake Michigan having a
fine view of the lake. Of our travel across the almost boundless
prairies of Illinois I will not try to describe, but suffice it to say,
we arrived at Cairo at 4 A. M.
Cairo, Ill., Saturday, Aug. 30. We were astir early to catch the first
sight of the far-famed city of Cairo (Ill.), and certainly an unhappy
surprise we found it; the combined medley of filth and disorder, the
streets rough, the sidewalks torn and tattered, rendering it dangerous
to travel, lest they should throw one headlong to the ditch.
Rienzi, Miss., Tuesday, Sept. 2. We went out in the morning to drill on
the field but did not see much into the wild scampering way. I wrote to
Sp[ring] Gr[een]. Had no time to write home before mail went out. Was
drilled on foot by Corporal Sweet in the evening.
[Sidenote: 1862 Camp Routine]
Rienzi, Wednesday, Sept. 3. Woke by the bugle at 3:30 A. M.; went out to
roll call and drill. The weather fine. Washed shirt and stockings for
first time. Wrote home. Drilled by Syl. Sweet in the evening on the gun.
The enemy skirmished our pickets, wounded three; our horses were
harnessed ready. I felt a little flushed.
Rienzi, Thursday, Sept. 4. Acted as No. 6 on drill to-day. Made a
galloping time of it. Did my first sweeping. Saw the first nigger dance;
watered horses in the evening; fell in with clothes on.
Rienzi, Friday, Sept. 5. Went out as No. 6. Was a little unwell.
Infantry preparing to move. Bad news from the Potomac.
Rienzi, Saturday, Sept. 6. Went through the usual routine of drill and
camp life. Received my first mail since my arrival, consisting of two
letters and a [Milwaukee] _Sentinel_. Changed mess. The 2nd Missouri
Infantry left. Wagons moving, fires burning all night.
Rienzi, Sunday, Sept. 7. Arose to the sound of the bugle at 3 A. M.
Prepared for a general inspection, but Captain, apprehending a move, did
not call us out. Drew good bunks from the old camp of 2nd Missouri.
After roll call at 9 P. M. I went to bed hoping to have a good night's
rest, but I was doomed to disappointment, for ere two hours had elapsed,
we were awakened by Corporal Dixon telling us to pack up all our
clothing and be in readiness to march. We of course obeyed and waited
for further orders, when about midnight, "Strike your tents" was given.
This done, the mules began driving in, loading was commenced, the horses
harnessed, and by one o'clock all was ready to march. That which could
not be taken was piled up ready for the march, but the order did not
come, so we were obliged to pick our place and lay down for a short and
uneasy sleep.
Rienzi, Monday, Sept. 8. To-day was spent in anxious waiting. I stood
guard for the first time while we were momentarily expecting orders to
leave; slept in the open air.
Rienzi, Tuesday, Sept. 9. Another day dawned without any orders. Some of
the boys pitched their tents. I went out foraging in the afternoon.
Rienzi, Wednesday, Sept. 10. This was another day of idle waiting; most
of the boys slept in tents last night, and it was supposed we would have
to stay here. I went out foraging in the morning.
Rienzi, Thursday, Sept. 11. I answered the summons of the reveille, but
I did not feel very well; had an attack of the ague but got over it by
dinner. Nothing to break the monotony of camp life. Reinforced by one
regiment of infantry.
Rienzi, Friday, Sept. 12. Spent the morning as usual in suspense of
leaving, but finally the orders came to send all the baggage train to
Clear Creek, a distance of ten miles to the west, and that we were to be
stationed as an out-post. Detailed to go a-foraging, brought in two
loads of corn from the south. The 1st Section were ordered out to the
front. Had the first rain storm in the evening, and ere the morning I
had a regular old shake of the ague.
Rienzi, Saturday, Sept. 13. The 3rd Section, Lieutenant Hood, went out
in front and the first fell back to its old grounds. Foraging party
brought in two loads of corn, three neat cattle, one sheep, twelve
geese, seven hens, two or three bushels of sweet potatoes.
[Sidenote: 1862 Strategic Moves]
Rienzi, Sunday, Sept. 14. Was begun with another of the "strategic
moves". We were told to hitch up with the greatest speed--all our
baggage, knapsacks, etc. were put in a wagon, nothing was left to
encumber us from a rapid and a desperate fight [in] which we were
expected to share. The 3rd Section, two regiments of infantry, one of
cavalry, started at 3 A. M. But all rumors of the enemy's presence
proved false, and after lying in the shade, horses hitched, for an hour,
we returned, unharnessed and lay quiet all day. The 3rd Section returned
at 4 P. M. without seeing any enemy.
Rienzi, Monday, Sept. 15. To-day we began business in the old way. We
had to sweep up for the first time in a week. I stood guard for the
second time.
Rienzi, Tuesday, Sept. 16. We were aroused this morning with the same
story of march and ordered to cook three days' rations and be ready to
march at 1 P. M., but did not go and all quieted down again. The 3rd
Section went out in the afternoon and stationed itself at bastion No. 5
at 9 P. M. Dispatches were brought around to the effect that McClellan
had captured the rebel army of Virginia including General Lee. Nothing
could induce us to restrain our joy but the fear of its being false.
Rienzi, Wednesday, Sept. 17. Was begun by a heavy shower of rain at
about 9 A. M. I joined the foraging party and we started on the Corinth
road. We had scarcely started before it began to rain and a perfect
torrent poured until we returned, pretty well drenched. The rest of the
day was spent inside of the tent as the rain continued nearly all day.
Rienzi, Thursday, Sept. 18. We awoke in a wet bed, it having rained very
hard the latter part of the night. We received orders to march for
Jacinto at 3 A. M. but countermanded before doing any harm save the
usual harnessing up by the drivers about 9 A. M. The prisoners captured
at Danville, twenty-three in number, including two captains, were
marched to headquarters.
Rienzi, Friday, Sept. 19. On roll call the Captain told us that Burnside
had captured the whole of Longstreet's command at Harpers Ferry after
their first capturing the place and the whole army under Colonel Miles.
Three cheers were given with a spirit. No mail. Went after berries in
the afternoon.
Rienzi, Saturday, Sept. 20. There was nothing to break the monotony of
camp life. Wrote two letters. Washed clothes. In the evening news of
another battle at Iuka. They cleaned Price out and chased him four
miles; 400 killed on both sides.
Rienzi, Sunday, Sept. 21. Was another repetition of that a week ago only
on a little larger scale. The horses were harnessed at 1 A. M. and we
went out on the Ripley road three quarters of a mile, laid there half an
hour waiting for the enemy, then filed left on our drilling ground,
drilled half an hour, then came home and unharnessed. Received new
gun-carriages and caissons in the afternoon. Report of another great
battle at Iuka in which 1000 of our men were killed in twenty-five
minutes. Colonel Murphy of the 8th put under arrest for withdrawing his
men. Stood guard duty.
Rienzi, Monday, Sept. 22. To-day I felt very weak, there was no local
pain, but a general debility.
Rienzi, Tuesday, Sept. 23. To-day I felt but a little better, got some
milk and corn bread. With the secesh [women] had an encounter before I
left.
[Sidenote: 1862 Battle of Corinth]
Corinth, Miss., Sunday, Oct. 5. As it is seen from the last date, I have
not written any for some time and I must write of the past from memory.
Not getting any better, I went to the Company hospital on September 24
and there was treated for fever of which I had but a very slight touch.
On the morning of October 1 every man that could not join his platoon
was to be sent to Corinth as the Battery was going to move, so I and
four others were put in the ambulance and driven to the depot, but the
cars did not come till 2 P. M. When they came, they loaded all the
commissary stores in the rooms. E. R. Hungerford and myself were lucky
enough to get into the box car. We got to Corinth in about two hours,
and after waiting an hour we were taken in a mule wagon to the Seminary
Hospital situated on a hill about one mile and a half from Corinth.
We were put in a comfortable tent and lay there unmolested until the
3rd, when early in the morning heavy firing was heard and continued all
day. We learned that the cannon had been attacked by the rebels
consisting of Price, Breckinridge, Van Dorn and one other commander. In
the afternoon we had to move down under the hill, we being right in the
range of the guns should they open fire in that direction at night. We
were ordered to have everything packed so as to leave at a moment's
notice. At about 12 o'clock at night we were ordered out on the road,
while the tents were struck and cots piled. Presently the teams began
driving in and loading men and cots. At last our turn came, but not
until the rebs had opened fire on the town with three guns throwing
shells. We had to pass under the fire. The shells whistled over our
heads in every direction, while off went the mules as fast as they could
trot. It certainly was a rough ride. They drove us through town and left
us on the east of it about 1/2 mile. By this time it was nearly daylight
and the guns used by the rebs throwing shells were taken. About 9
o'clock the engagement became general. The noise of the musketry,
occasionally broken in upon by the loud peal of artillery, made it truly
terrific. The fight lasted about three hours, when the rebs were obliged
to skedaddle.
All of this time we had heard nothing from the Battery. We supposed that
it had been engaged, when at 12 o'clock Dr. Miller came around and told
us that the Battery had been engaged that morning, and had been taken
and retaken, but he could not give us a list of the casualties. We heard
nothing more from the Battery until to-day, G. M. Spencer came with a
list of casualties. He informed us that the sick and wounded were
gathered in a company hospital about a quarter of a mile to the south.
We remained in the general hospital until
Corinth, Tuesday, Oct. 7. The doctor came to take our names to be sent
to a Northern hospital as they had no room for us [in the general
hospital]. I asked permission to join the Company hospital, which was
granted, so in the afternoon we joined our comrades; found the wounded
all in good spirits.
Corinth, Saturday, Oct. 11. The Battery returned from its chase after
the retreating rebs, of a week in length. In the evening the Captain and
Sergeant Simpson rode into our camp, the Battery being in camp two and
one half miles out.
Corinth, Sunday, Oct. 12. To-day it was a little warmer, the rain of the
last two days having cleared. My anxiety to visit the Battery was such
that I was induced to start out on foot in order to see them. The walk
was rather fatiguing as it was rather warm, but we found them at last on
a ridge in a shady grove. But it did not look much like the camp of the
6th Battery, as they had no tents pitched and were quartered in brush
bivouacs or under tarpaulins; I found them all well but somewhat reduced
by the march. I remained with them for an hour, then retraced my steps
alone through the solitary woods. I enjoyed pleasant thoughts of the
good times to come. I reached camp by sunset well pleased with my walk
and not as fatigued as I expected.
Corinth, Monday, Oct. 13. The troops on the outskirts of the town were
all moved in, among which were the 6th Battery. They passed our
encampment at about 8 A. M.; their designation was unknown but supposed
not to be far. Quartermaster-Sergeant Simpson brought new clothing to
camp in the afternoon. I drew one jacket, pair of pants and a hat.
Corinth, Tuesday, Oct. 14. Having learned the locality of our Battery,
it being encamped on the south side of the town, the wounded men were
removed to the general hospital, and the sick were taken to the Battery,
with the exception of N. B. Hood and Byron Babcock.
Corinth, Thursday, Oct. 16. I joined my Platoon, went into tent with E.
W. Evans and T. J. Hungerford as before. Owing to my weakness I was not
put on full duty immediately, being excused from mounted drill, etc.
[Sidenote: 1862 Memorials for the Dead]
Corinth, Friday, Oct. 17. Resolutions relative to those who fell in
battle on the 4th inst. were offered by H. S. Keene and unanimously
adopted by the camp on roll call P. M.
Corinth, Saturday, Oct. 18. Roll call in the evening. ---- made an
explanation as to his whereabouts on the day of battle, and the orderly
read a certificate from the commander of the 11th Ohio Battery,
corroborating his statement.
Corinth, Sunday, Oct. 19. To-day we were told the sad news of the death
of one of our number, John Haskins, who died during the night of chronic
diarrhea. We had an inspection at 9 A. M. and in the afternoon we paid
the last tribute of respect which one man can pay to another, to the
remains of our comrade, Haskins. He was buried by the side of the brave
five that fell in the battle of Corinth.
Corinth, Monday, Oct. 20. To-day we had to police the entire camp ground
as it was reported that General Rosecrans was going to inspect camp. The
ground was shoveled and swept over, but no Rosecrans came.
Corinth, Tuesday, Oct. 21. Finished policing around the guns. In the
afternoon after the Company was formed for drill, as Orderly Hayward was
returning after reporting to the Captain, his horse stumbled, falling on
him, spraining his right ankle and fracturing the cap bone.
Corinth, Wednesday, Oct. 22. While on drill in the afternoon, I, in
attempting to mount, lost my balance and fell, the hind wheel of the
caisson running over my left ankle, luckily without any dislocation.
After drill I was taken to the hospital, my foot being very painful
during the night.
Corinth, Thursday, Oct. 23. The weather turned very windy and cold,
water freezing in the night 1/4 inch in thickness.
Corinth, Friday, Oct. 24. My foot was a little easier. Dr. Arnold of the
12th Wisconsin Battery dressing it and keeping it cool by water. The
weather still cold.
Corinth, Saturday, Oct. 25. We were moved from the tent this morning to
an old deserted house a quarter of a mile from camp. In the afternoon
it snowed and by night the earth was clothed in white.
Corinth, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, etc. The troops were
engaged in fortifying. All the buildings on the outskirts were torn down
regardless of worth and hauled away by the troops to build stables,
barracks, etc.
Corinth, Saturday, Nov. 1. Orders were given to Battery to cook three
days' rations in their haversacks and three days' in the wagons, all
ready to march on the following morning.
[Sidenote: 1862 Hospital Cases]
Corinth, Sunday, Nov. 2. I walked up to the Battery, the farthest I had
walked since my lameness. Saw the boys off; they left their tents
standing, their knapsacks etc. under charge of Lieutenant Simpson, and
those unfit for the march. The inmates of the hospital were taken to the
general hospital under Dr. Arnold, nine in number, viz: Orderly J. G. S.
Hayward (fractured ankle), Corporal G. B. Jones (chronic diarrhea;
waiting for discharge); W. W. Wyman (waiting for discharge); G. W.
Benedict (diarrhea); E. W. Evans (fever); David Evans (convalescent);
Alex. Ray (convalescent); E. R. Hungerford (chronic diarrhea); Jenk. L.
Jones (bruised ankle), remained in the hospital until
Corinth, Sunday, Nov. 9. Learning that the Battery had gone to camp at
Grand Junction, Tenn., Sergeant Hamilton was sent back to bring forward
the baggage, etc., etc. and was to start by train in the morning. E. W.
Evans, David Evans and myself procured a dismissal from the hospital and
bade good-bye to our comrades (who were all doing well except E. R.
Hungerford, who was very low) at 6:30 A. M. and reported at the depot.
We found the boys and baggage on the platform, but owing to the rush of
troops we could not get off to-day. We laid around all day, exchanged
our tents, drew some quartermaster stores.
Corinth, Monday, Nov. 10. We were again disappointed, the train leaving
us behind and nothing to do but wait another twenty-four hours. In the
afternoon E. W. Evans and I went to the hospital where we learned that
our comrade E. R. Hungerford had died at about 2 P. M. Sunday, and was
to be buried in the evening.
Corinth, Tuesday, Nov. 11. Lay on the platform all day, and at night we
were furnished a car to load our baggage. We loaded it by 12 P. M.
Grand Junction, Tenn., Wednesday, Nov. 12. It having rained during the
night, the dust was converted to mud. Ate a breakfast of cold beef and
bread, filled our canteens with water, when we scrambled on top the
freight cars in order to procure transportation. It was raining, and
when the train was in motion the smoke and cinders were torturing.
Arrived at Jackson at 1 P. M. Waited an hour for dinner, then took
Mississippi Central R. R. for Grand Junction. Remained at Medon Station
till 6 P. M. when G. M. Spencer and I spread our blankets and laid down;
awoke at Grand Junction at 3 A. M.
Grand Junction, Thursday, Nov. 13. Lieutenant Simpson went in search of
the Battery early and left us to unload and guard the baggage. The teams
arrived from the Battery 3 P. M. We loaded and started out about three
miles and encamped where the team that left Corinth on the 8th had
bivouacked for the night.
Davis Mills, Miss., Friday, Nov. 14. Reached the Battery about 10 A. M.,
it being situated one mile south of Davis Mills in an open field; church
and cemetery hard by.
Davis Mills, Saturday, Nov. 15. Heard from home. Received two letters,
from John and Thomas, which eased my anxiety. Listened to the first
sermon [in camp].
Davis Mills, Sunday, Nov. 16. 10 A. M. we had a general inspection by
U. S. Grant and General Quinby of the 3rd Division.
[Sidenote: 1862 On the March]
La Grange, Tenn., Monday, Nov. 17. Awoke to hear the rain pattering
briskly on the Sibley [tent] above me. We were called out, and with
expectations to march, we drew three days' rations in our haversacks. 8
A. M. the rain cleared off and the column of infantry began to move by
on the road leading to Holly Springs. At 9 A. M. we fell in rear of
column. We marched west about three quarters of a mile, then turned
north toward La Grange; travelled through very pretty country. We halted
at Wolf River to water our horses, fill our canteens and ate a dinner of
hard crackers and sugar. Ascended a steep hill, half a mile in length,
on the top of which was situated La Grange, when we turned westward and
travelled until 7 P. M. Encamped on a hill. Killed a beef for supper.
Moscow, Tenn., Tuesday, Nov. 18. Up at 4 A. M., cooked our breakfast and
again on the road by 6 o'clock, and after a four hours' march through a
broken country, well cleared, persimmons plenty, we arrived at Moscow,
where we went into camp for the time. Rode to water through a town
completely deserted, no trace of a citizen. I, as could be expected, was
bothered on the march by my foot and could not have kept up, were it not
for S. E. Sweet, who allowed me to ride his colt part of the time.
Moscow, Wednesday, Nov. 19. To-day, ordered to pack our knapsacks, mark
them preparatory to turning them over, and take them to be stored until
we were to be permanently camped.
Moscow, Thursday, Nov. 20. Mail arrived to-day. Received two letters;
weather rather cold. Went foraging in the morning; returned with fresh
pork, beans, corn and fodder in plenty.
Moscow, Friday, Nov. 21. Weather cold and frosty. 2 P. M. bugle sounded
the assembly, "Fall in", when we were given orders to prepare to march
immediately. The horses were harnessed, everything packed ready for
further orders which after an hour waiting, came, to unharness. It
proved to be an alarm caused by a party of guerrillas making a dash upon
our foraging train, capturing some seventy mules, then skedaddling
before the escort could come up.
Moscow, Saturday, Nov. 22. Griffith Thomas, E. W. Evans and myself went
to the spring in woods, washed our clothes and returned by one o'clock.
Weather warm and pleasant during the day but very cold nights.
Moscow, Sunday, Nov. 23. Laid in tent all day. Mail arrived in the
afternoon. Received two very welcome letters from home and Thomas L.
Moscow, Monday, Nov. 24. I felt rather unwell, having had a lusty old
shake with the ague. In the night went to the doctor, had four pills and
an excuse from duty. Foraging party brought in twenty-five bushels sweet
potatoes, four hogs, a hive of honey and two loads of corn.
Moscow, Tuesday, Nov. 25. Orders were sent to Captain to have two best
non-commissioned officers to report at Colonel Powell's headquarters by
8 A. M. Sergt. A. J. Hood and Corporal Hauxhurst were sent, acting as
orderlies. Tent moved back. The whole camp policed. 2 o'clock the
howitzers (3rd and 5th pieces) were ordered out on picket duty without
caissons, one extra horse.
Moscow, Wednesday, Nov. 26. Cold and chilly. Troubled with diarrhea;
felt rather bad.
Moscow, Thursday, Nov. 27. Our boys returned in the afternoon having
been out to Collierville, eighteen miles distant, burned a bridge, came
upon a party of rebs, capturing three. Weather cold and clear. Health
improving.
[Sidenote: 1862 Facing the Enemy]
Moscow, Friday, Nov. 28. Awoke before daylight with orders to prepare to
march. All was ready by 6:30 A. M. Started at about 7:30, fell in rear
of the column and marched toward Holly Springs; traveled all day with
the exception of the necessary halts in the train. Passed through Early
Grove 4 P. M., Hudsonville 7 P. M. Traveled until 9 P. M. Encamped near
Coldwater River for the night. The country was all woodland except the
cleared plantations; after dark the air was illumined, the raging fire
caused by the dry leaves and fences, running for miles, it being set out
by the advance. Came into park in a grove, made a "shebang" of shakes
and laid down about 11:30 P. M.
Holly Springs, Miss., Saturday, Nov. 29. The bugle's notes awoke me in
the same position as that I fell asleep in three hours before. Prepared
for march and started with the sun, in advance of the artillery; passed
through Holly Springs about 11 A. M.; passed through the streets where
twenty-four hours before the last of the rebels skedaddled. Holly
Springs passed my expectations in size and beauty, being the largest
place I have seen in Secession.
We traveled on in a southward course towards Waterford. General Hamilton
and troupe passed us about 4 miles beyond Holly Springs. Two miles
farther on we heard two guns discharged and heard rumors of a battle
ahead. On the brow of a hill we were shown the grounds where the cavalry
were engaged in the morning with the Rebs' pickets, killing a Michigan
boy and three Rebs. Ascended the hill which overlooked Waterford,
consisting of a mill and a small creek, branch of Coldwater River. Here
the enemy opened fire on our troops in the morning with two pieces which
were taken. We forded the stream about 5 P. M., went into camp on the
banks, got some flour from the mills (ground by the secesh for supper),
and laid down under the gun on soil twenty-four hours ago occupied by
Rebs, seven miles south of Holly Springs.
Lumpkin's Mill, Miss., Sunday, Nov. 30. This was a dark and sultry
morning, and about 8 A. M. while sitting upon the ground, I felt the
earth shake a kind of a dull roll, which was felt by many. Firing with
siege guns was commenced at about nine o'clock and kept up briskly
through most of the day. While listening to the firing, expecting
momentarily to be called upon, the orders came to hitch up, get two
days' rations in haversacks, and ready to march in half an hour. 11 A.
M. At this time L. N. Keeler rode up for one man to go foraging.
Sergeant Hamilton detailed me. We started with two teams and three men,
Bowman, Leffart and myself. We went to the northeast one and one fourth
miles, crossed the railroad, found our corn in an old log barn. We had
to turn around before loading in order to be ready to leave in case of
necessity, as the pickets close by were expecting an attack. We loaded
our corn got three quarters of a barrel of salt from the smoke house and
returned in a hurry. Found the Battery still there, unharnessed and
cooled down. The firing gradually ceased, and by night was heard no
more. We went to bed without knowing anything of the result in the
front.
P. S. This place represented as Waterford proved to be called Lumpkin's
Mill.
Lumpkin's Mill, Monday, Dec. 1. Awoke to find it a muddy morning, it
having rained very hard in the night, blowing the fifth tent to the
ground. Our tent leaked considerably. Laid quiet all day. No firing
heard. Evie went foraging, gone nearly all day. In the evening ordered
to have two days' rations ready to march at sunrise.
Enroute, Tuesday, Dec. 2. Advanced about five miles, starting at about 8
o'clock, marched south, leaving Waterford on our left. Halted some three
hours on the road, it raining continually. We were passed by General
Hamilton and staff, also General Grant and suite. Came into camp at 4 P.
M. some three miles from the Tallahatchie in open field near large
mansion used as Quinby's headquarters. Stretched our tarpaulin and slept
sound.
Enroute, Wednesday, Dec. 3. A sunny and bright day, dried up the mud and
made things cheerful. Hitched up at 8 A. M., stayed harnessed until 3 P.
M. We then moved out to the river and went to camp in sight of the
rebels' fortifications. Some of the boys crossed the river while
watering [horses]. Pitched our tents.
Enroute, Thursday, Dec. 4. We remained quiet all day. Rained in the
evening. Pitched Quartermaster's tent. Felt symptoms of the ague, felt
rather bad.
[Sidenote: 1862 Taking Prisoners]
Enroute, Friday, Dec. 5. Took up the line of march through mud and rain
early. In the morning the rain that was continually falling made the
road almost unpassable for the artillery. Crossed the Tallahatchie with
difficulty, passed fortifications which might have given us much trouble
to pass had they been held by their builders. Met thirty prisoners.
Halted at Abbeville about two hours at noon, then pushed on. Night
overtook the train while crossing a lagoon [Herrington's Creek], which
was very difficult. Stood in the road till 8 P. M., when finding it
impossible to cross, we came into park on the roadside in an old
cornfield, slept on the tarpaulin, no shelter.
Oxford, Miss., Saturday, Dec. 6. Awoke with an unpleasant feeling, a
racking pain in back and head. Started out early, the road having frozen
hard enough to bear footmen, marched without much difficulty. Reached
Oxford by noon. Neat place, two-thirds the size of Holly Springs;
compared favorably with it in building but not in situation. Went into
camp on the southern limits, saw some 700 prisoners marched in from the
advance. Price still ahead. One darky reported him almost to hell.
Oxford, Sunday, Dec. 7. Nothing new. Laid in camp. Many rumors afloat of
Richmond taken, Bragg defeated, etc. Health improving.
Oxford, Monday, Dec. 8. A lazy day for the Battery. Nothing transpired
to excite the drowsiness of the soldier. Received a paper of the 3rd
containing the President's Proclamation.
Oxford, Tuesday, Dec. 9. Warm and pleasant, Quinby's Division inspected
by U. S. Grant and suite. Troubled with diarrhea.
Oxford, Wednesday, Dec. 10. Warm and pleasant. Health improving.
Diarrhea checked by abstaining from all eatables except hard crackers.
All teams sent foraging. 3rd Platoon had 1 hog, 2 geese.
Oxford, Thursday, Dec. 11. Rumors of march. Logan's Division left
to-day. Troops passing in the afternoon. Had standing gun drill. Ordered
to have five roll calls in a day. Order No. 1 from Colonel Marsh, 20th
Illinois, post commander of Oxford, read.
Near Oxford, Friday, Dec. 12. Orders given at roll call in the morning
to be ready to march at 7 A. M. 3 days' rations. Took up the line of
march back towards town much to the dissatisfaction of all, which was
relieved by turning south and once more on the track of old Price,
travelled six miles, then went into park. Took a team to drive, the
center team on the gun formerly driven by A. Dearborn.
Near Oxford, Saturday, Dec. 13. All quiet. Foraging party started out at
6 A. M. Gone all day. They report a poor country, with much more loyalty
apparently than could be expected. Citizens refuse to take Confederate
scrip as heretofore, many exhibiting a white flag on their dwellings
upon which was inscribed "Union". Received letters from John from
Jefferson, Wis.
[Sidenote: 1862 Negro Cooks]