[from the diary of future University of Virginia  professor of Greek, Milton W. Humpheys, as copied and annotated by him in 1893]

I arose but was unable to stand on my feet.  I sat on the edge of
the bed and put my clothes on: found no water int he room;
crawled to the head of the stairs: sat down on the top step and let
myself down one step at a time. the Yankees mean time hur-
rying me up with every breath.  the first Battalion (half-regiment)
had passed: the artillery was  passing. Col. Allen, holding a little
blank-book in his hand, entered with the surgeon.  The latter said
I could not possibly be moved that day.  Allen was sorry they
had moved me the previous day, &c &c. Then he addressed me:
“Col. Crook gives you your choice this morning of going on with
us, or [1] “taking the oath of allegiance“!  I asked him to word
the oath of allegiance, and he commenced something like. “You
do solemnly swear before Almighty God that you will bear
true allegiance to the government of the United States,”
&c, &c, getting worse and wo5rse to the end,  I told him
I could not take it [2] [and that he could not trust me if I
did, as I was sworn to show allegiance to the Confederate Gov-
ernment.]  I asked him, then, to parole me.  He said he
would a great deal rather parole me, and so would Col.
Crook, but the Federal Government did not [3] allow it.  I asked
him what I must do.  He insisted on the “oath”.  I was immovable
in my determination not to take it.  He then said “Suppose you
give your oath or affirmation not to serve against the Feder-
al Government.”  “How long would this oath be binding”?
“You may be released from it at any time by the two
Governments.” [Seeing that to all intents and purposes, this
would be a parole, and was really so intended], so I consented
to take this oath.  He asked me whether I would swear of
affirm.  I chose to swear. The oath was then worded to me
thus: “You do swear that you will not fight against the
Federal Government, [4] nor in any way harbor, aid, or give com-
fort to their [its?] enemies.”  I was done with my stay among
the Yankees: I thought all was write, but my troubles in con-
nection with this matter had not yet begun].–My opinion
derived from my intercourse with the Federals (36th Regt. O.V. M.)
was that the officers were gentlemen and–liars.  They actually tried
to make me believe the Yankees had Staunton and Richmond.  There
was a a Captain who tried to frighten me with threats: said I would
soon be where I would not fight them any more. [They assumed all the
time that I was already a veteran]

After the Yankees went on towards
Jackson’s River, it became evident that I was taking the [1] measles on top
of my pneumonia: hence my renewed cough and sickness.  In a day or
two the Yankees came back and recovered the mountain.

When Col. Crook left the hotel, (which he visited in the morning, just
after I had given my parole) he said to Mr. Dixon: “I know nothing
of this young man’s circumstances.  Take care of him till he
leaves you, and if you are not compensated, Col. George Crook
of the 36 Ohio Regiment, will be responsible.”
For “till he leaves you” he may have said “till all is over.” I remember his
words were ambiguous: still I do not remember of felling any
apprehensions as to my getting well.  I could see however that Crook
felt that, if I died, he was responsible for more than Mr. Dixon’s
little expenses.


[1] My recollection now is that at first I had a very vague idea of
what he meant.  I am not sure I had heard the expression be-
fore.


[2]  This was not literally true, except in so far as
the ceremony of mustering into the Confederate service
was virtually an oath.


[3] This seemed to be a special order for the occasion.  I remember
they told me that only the General Commanding Department could
authorize a parole.  My recollection is that they said “Genl.
Pope“; but Pope at that time was probably in Tennessee, and
was not transferred to the Army of Va. till the end of June.  I do
not know, however, to what Department Crook’s brigade belonged.
Crook was Col. of the 36th Ohio, and had command of a 
brigade, one regiment of which, to judge from the paper they
gave me, was commanded by Col. Elliot.


[4] This clause took me by surprise; but I was very sick,
thoroughly exhausted, and decided not to demur.  I sup-
posed (& still suppose) it left me at liberty to do anything
a paroled prisoner could do.–When I took this oath, it
was my purpose to have a note made of the facts on
the army records, and have my name with this note
submitted for exchange, should a cartel be agreed upon
This was afterwards done through Lieut. G. A. Fowlkes, Comd’g Battery
and Col. A. R. Barbee, comd’g Brigade


[1] I have no recollection of feeling any  concern at this discovery.
(My father had already expressed apprehensions (a few minutes before
he left me on the 16th) that my new  cough portended measles).
I evidently did not understand at that time the extremely peri-
lous nature of my condition.  The combination of convalescent
pneumonia with measles in a patient just recovering from diph-
theria and jaundice, with the undue excitement and fatigue
combined with the worst sort of exposure (I actually waded in
water when I got out of the ambulance, until I was put on the
cot), constituted the grounds of a dark prognosis; but no
prognosis was made, and the issue of the whole matter was
phenomenal. The measles “struck in”, as they said, after being
out strong a short time.  Still I was soon wading in mountain
streams fishing for trout.  For years,  however, as often as I
took a cold, I seemed to have the measles over again, except
the eruption; and sometimes a cold was accompanied by a
sort of pleurisy or pericarditis; but on the whole my health
was excellent, and i acquired great physical strength
as well as endurance










MSS 1578

[from the diary of future University of Virginia professor of Greek Milton W. Humpheys,  of King’s Artillery, as recopied and annotated by  him in 1893]

On the 16th of May my father, who had been in attendance upon
me, went to the White Sulphur, and, returning, informed me that
the Yankee cavalry, numbering 303, had passed up Dry Creek in
the direction of the Sweet Springs.  I was rather weak as yet to be
removed, as the only means at hand was horse and saddle.  I
then first realized my situation: I was in the neighborhood of the enemy,
and if I went towards Lewisburg, I was sure to meet more; to follow
after them was out of the question. A road led from the White
Sulphur and Sweet Springs turnpike through to the main road
so that to go in the direction of Jackson’s River was certain cap=
ture.  If I went to Anthonys Creek I would be effectually cut off
from the Confederate forces, which were then in the neighborhood
of Dublin Depot on the V. & T.R.R.. X Being entirely at a loss, but
not fearing any immediate danger, my father started to the
White Sulphur through the woods to find out the whereabouts of the enemy.
The excitement of the situation seemed to give me strength, and
for the first time since my illness began I put on my clothes (a new Con-
federate artillery uniform) and went out to an outhouse, a few minutes
after my father left.  As I opened the door to return to the house,
some 15 steps, I saw, coming up the road, a squad of men
with army guns, clad in the well known blue jackets and pants
of the Federal army.  Waiting until some trees, or other obstacles cut
off the view, I slipped into the house unseen.  The Cavalry in
the forenoon, had not stopped at any private house: of course the
same was expected of the Infantry.   The squad just mentioned
proved to be the vanguard of 1200 men under Co. Crook
including four 12 pdr. mountain howitzers.  Being exhausted,
I lay down on a bed with my uniform on, and watched through
a window, using a narrow opeing by the edge of the curtain, as I lay
on my side.  The first Battalion passed!  The Artillery passed! The
Second Battalion passed!  How rejoiced I was that I had run
so narrow a risk and still escaped!  But the rear guard, with
some who had joined them, suddenly sprang over the fence and
surrounded the house.  The door [A]opened quickly; a pr man peeped
in, and said: “We want you,” and drew his head back,
nearly closeing the door.  “What do you want with me?”  I re-
plied.  “We are going to take you along with us,” he replied
in an angry tone.  I answered “I am not able to go.”  Just then
a man entered at the back door, [B]  and another at the front
door.  It was the sergeant of the advance guard that had
been talking to me.  [He had gradually reopened the door and entered
teh room.  All the men, except officers who afterwards entered, of course
had guns in their hands.]  One of the men  Dipsomaniac? attempted to steal
a cologne bottle in the shape of a shoe with its toe turning
up and ending in a neck.  The sergeant, who seemed to
have some gentlemanly qualities, made him put the bottle
down and leave the house.  As he went out he muttered that
the bottle was “nothing but damned Secesh doings anyhow.”
The sergeant called in another man, and sent the one that was al
ready there (not the thief) to Col. Crook to tell him that I said I was not
able to go with them.   Before the messenger returned, several officers
came in, all of whom were very polite to me.  Among them was
one Edward Jay Allen, who had been a contractor on the railroad
near the White Sulphur before the war.  He examined me and
pronounced me very weak; the surgeon, who had entered pro-
nounced me entirely unable to be moved. The day was warm
but clouding fast.  It was about 2 p.m.  The messenger returned
and said: “Col. Crook orders that he shall come along.”  Allen
(they called him “Col.” Allen) then apologized for moving me, saying
that if they left me, I would get well and commence fighting
them again.  I told him that that was true and that I expected
them to do something with me as a matter of course.  [I supposed,
when first discovered, that I would merely be paroled] As soon
as I could get my medicine (which the doctor told me to take
with me) and clothes ready, they assisted me into a good
ambulance.  The doctor ordered them to put me into it,
ad remarked that it was his own private property. It then
commenced raining and turning cold.  On the preceding
day I had taken a dry cough, which by this time, aggravated
by the dampness and the shaking of the vehicle, annoyed me
constantly. Of course I became an object of curiosity, and the sol-
diers showed a desire to talk to me.  One “reckoned it was the first
ride I had ina “Yankee concern” for some time.” [This was in good
natured humor]. We moved on slowly up the Alleghany Mountains
I was harassed by countless questions, and some sullenness was
shown because I did not satisfactorily answer all of them.
The surgeon soon made them put a stop to their questions.
The driver got out of the ambulance, and two more men
got in, whereupon a general discussion of Secession, Union,
&c commenced; but I cannot related it; I must cut the story
short.  Sick men were placed in the rear end of the ambulance,
so that I was at last crowded forward into the rain, which in-
creasingly drove into the open front.  At dark the troops came to
a halt at the eastern base of the mountains, built fires, and commenced
cooking.  The wagon train and ambulances stopped.  I got out; was
overlooked; was surprised to find myself apparently as strong;
began to plan an [1] escape, when the sergt. of the rear guard
stepped up and respectfully took charge of me, expressing surprise
that I had not been attended to.  We went to “Major” somebody, who sent
us to the Adjutant, whom we fortunately failed to find.  The Sergt.
told me the Adjutant was not likely to show me any greater favor than
to allow me to lie in a wagon.  We finally went to Col. Crook, whom
we found in front of a tent conversing with Allen and the surgeon.  The
latter told Crook that it would be certain death to me to sleep
out. [Col. Crook was indignant, when he saw me, and said “Is this
the man that was represented to me as pretending to be sick?”]
He said he was sorry he had attempted to move me; moved
aside so that I might not have to pass through a pool of water;
and ordered eight men to carry me on a cot to Jo Dickson’s
Hotel half a mile further east. The rain poured down in torrents
all the way down.  Getting off the cot, I found myself una-
ble to walk!  Having taken a cup of hot coffee, I was assisted
up stairs, and went to bed without fire.  The men who had car-
ried me went back to camp. For a long time I was unable to sleep.
My mind was absorbed with one question: [2]  “What is my destiny?” I would begin
to doze; sometimes I would think myself jolted in the ambulance
and would waken.  Then I would think they were calling me
to get ready to start again, and waken.  thus I spent the night
until a short time before day, when I fell asleep.  Once again
I heard the dreadful calling for me to get up, and on waking
found it to be reality.  It was day-break; the rain was
descending still, and it had grown yet colder during the night.

Remarks, 1893 

X  I ought by all means to have been removed.  The sequel showed that
I would have ridden many miles, and it would have been
sufficient to carry me a mile towards Anthony’s Creek, or enven 1/4 
mile across the ridge by the house, to the North: anything to get
me off the thoroughfare.  Getting “cut off” would have been a
small matter, and a very temporary one.  Still I was certainly
not to blame, if any blunder was committed.

[A]  The house was very near the road on the right hand side
going east, –an old hewn-log house, I think.  The front
door opened directly into the room I was in.  The foot
of my bed was just to the left of the door as you entered.
The sergeant of the advance guard was the first to look in.

[B]  The back-door also opened directly into my room.


One Frank Haptonstall, who had been a school-mate of mine at
Charleston, & whose home as near the White Sulphur had been drafter
into the army–He knew where I was, and  when our army left
he had deserted, and now he had joined the Yankees and told
them where I was.  So, at least, went the story among the people.
I have no personal knowledge of the matter.


On the way over the mountain the whole column came to a
long halt about a mile before we reached Hughs’ on the summit.
The Federals had heard that there was a strong force of militia in
camp there, and a field officer undertook to make me
tell what I knew about it. In fact I did this promptly: I said
I knew nothing about it; but of course he did not believe me
(I did not want him to) and continued to badger me until
the surgeon interposed, which he did with much firmness
and earnestness, and intimated that the officer’s attitude
in the case was preposterous anyway.

Among those that conversed with me were two young
men from Ohio, named Wylie, who turned out to be cousins
of mine (2d or possibly 3rd).  They were exceedingly considerate,
and asked me for souvenirs, which I gave them:  brass
tassel and cross cannons from my cap.

No one treated me ruffianly, and none harshly, except
the officer who tried to force me to divulge information, and
a captain who tried to alarm me.

[1]  If I had given them the slip, I should certainly have per-
ished.  It was already my purpose to reascend the mountain,
keeping in the hollow below the road. There was, as I af-
terwards found out, a stream of water in this hollow, and
there was no house between camp and the top of 
the mountain six or eight miles back.  This I had 
not observed, as I lay in the covered ambulance.


[2]  Col. Crook’s remark that he was sorry he had attempted
to move me naturally gave me hopes that in the morning
I would be paroled; but somehow I could not feel sure that
this would be done.  Moreover I was suffering intensely, not
only with my cough, but felt sick.  that I was growing rapidly
worse was evident.

MSS 1578

[from the diary of Matthella Page Harrison as transcribed at a later date]

The horizon is decidedly brightening.  It is reported all the Yankees have
left the valley except one regiment from Maine, to keep the people of Winches-
ter in order I suppose. Victory in the West is certain and the Federals were
horribly slaughtered. We hear there was an immense loss on their side at the
battle of Williamsburg, 25,000 wounded sent to Northern ports, 670 officers
killed.  West Point was also the scene of great bloodshed.  It is thought
the decisive battle will be fought near Richmond.  This evening being the
day appointed for fasting and prayer, Mr. Jones held a prayer meeting at
Linden which was interrupted by a party of Federals at his house. They only
wanted something to eat and went off again.  We commence after tea Bulwer’s
new novel “A Strange Story.”

MSS 9759

Winchester  May 15th  1862

Dear Mary

I have just this moment
received yr letter to Mama–she is not
in Winchester–but left here here just
before the United States army entered
the town, & we conjecture that because
of the absolute prohibition which we
understand exists in regard to passing
the lines of either army she is not here
now at home. We know that she earnest-
ly desires to be here with what of her
family are at home but we have heard
nothing from her directly since the
time of the occupation of our town.
I am very thankful to e able to say
that although Robert & Johnie are
both in the Confederate states army
they have not as yet to my knowledge
sustained any injury.  Johnnie was
in the skirmish at Haynesville, in
the battle of Manasses & also in
the battle of Winchester.  He is a private


[page 2]
in  company commanded by my brother
in law William Clark of the 2d reg
Va Vol belonging to the former
“Jackson’s Brigade” & now under his
command as Major Gen–Robert is
on a Gun boat at Memphis as assis=
tant surgeon.  From either of these
dear boys I have only heard indirectly
since the evacuation of Winchester
by Genl Jackson–most of your friends
& relations here are in good bodily health
Those within the lines of the confederate
states army I am now almost as igno=
rant of as yourself–My dear Father’s
health is delicate–Uncle Stuart’s general
health is better.  all of the family who
are in town are well. Sally is in
Staunton & has been away from home
for some months.  John Baldwin
Uncle Stuart’s son died in Staunton
of consumption a few weeks ago.
His wife will return to Winchester–
to live with her father, all the rest
of our Staunton friends were well when I
heard from them as also were those
in Richmond.  Mama met with your

[page 3]
Uncle William at the Exchange in
Richmond in February last he was
sell she did not mention seeing your Aunt
Mat but suppose she was well.
Mary Johnston Stuart was married
to my brother William Clark three or
four weeks ago she had fixed the
first day of May for her nuptials
but the uncertainty of the times hastened
it I believe it was a most quiet affair
They left Staunton immediately for
Lynchburg where I suppose they now
are. living  –William was seriously
wounded at the battle of Manassas
from which he has not yet recovered
I hope I have been able to relieve your
mind about our friends–We are happy
to hear that your mother & family
are well. With love from Papa
to yr mother–believe me affec. yr
Cousin Cornelia  C.

[from the diary of Jesse Calvin Spaulding, Co. F, 25th Massachusetts]

Friday
May 16

Was on pickett to day with Partridge
and Phillips.  Rainy and muddy.
Part of the time fixed up a bough house
to stay in and read some and stood
watch two beats

MSS 11293

Goshen  May the 16-1862
Mrs H. J. Walker
In reply to your letter in relation to
the corn I was not at home neither was Mr
Land as Mr Land myself was the onely[sic] men
that had any thing to do with it but you just
send in your corn to Goshen and I will have it
attended to here after the caus[sic] why Goodlow did not
take it in was that the quartermaster had ordered him
not to have any more delivered in the depot but I
will attend to it when you send the rest give my
respects to all the Ladies and evry body els
your friend &c
J. W. Kelso

Mrs H. J. Walker
Walkers Creek

MSS 1532

Camp near Falmouth Va May 16th 1862
Dear cousin Mary
I received your very
o-interesting letter a few evenings ago
and was much pleased to hear from
you in as much as it gives me a great
amount of pleasure to receive a letter
from any of my friends, and more
particularly, those who are my relatives.
We are now about thirty miles from the
place I last wrote you, we left there
on the 7th of this month; the roads over
which we traveled in coming here were
through a rough and hilly country with
a few occasional farm houses by the way
side to cheer us on to duty’s call: on
our second day’s march a few men
(I believed seven in number) lingered behind
the regiment and rear guard
and were attacked by a rebel
guerilla band, two of them escaped

[page 2]
the one receiving a slight wound
in the head, the others were taken
prisoners.  Falmouth is a small town
on the banks of the Rappahannock
River, in size it is about the same
as Landisburg though not as pretty
a place, it lies right in a hollow
anyway you go to it except by the
river will be a decent of about three
or four hundred feet; the citizens
have mostly all left and the town
is principally inhabited by slaves
though it is fastly filling up with
whites.  Fredericksburg on the opposite
side of the river is a midling
sized town or city as it is called, it
formerly had over five thousand
inhabitants however it may
not have half that many
now for they were nearly all
secesh and I suppose would
leave when their brethren left;
I have not been over the river

[page 3]
yet and cannot describe the beau-
ties and scenery of the place though
I may at some other time. I will now
give you a brief description of
our present encampment, name-
ly third briggade P.R.C. it is in
a very beautiful place surrounded
on all sides by beautiful forests
the regiment that compose this brigade
are the 6th, 9th, 10 & 12 P. R. C. under the
command of Brigadier General E. O. C. Ord
the camp is laid out in regular
streets and at the end of each street
there is a large arch reath, some
have the letters of their companies
worked in the reaths, there is small
cedar and spruce trees planted
around the tents to keep the sun
from striking them so hard; the
water is very good in this country.
the small streams that meander along
side our camps are clear as crystal
The larger streams are inhabited by

[page 4]
any amount of the finy tribe, large
quantities are brought into camp
every day.  I had a letter from home
a few evenings ago, in which I am
told father is going to Ohio to see
Uncl Sam Hench, they are all well.
The health of the army is very good, but
few are on the sick list, my health
has been very good ever since I
came into the army and so has
Nicholas’. The weather has been
rainy and damp for the last three
days and has not cleared up right-
ly yet.  Well I must draw my poorly
written letter to a close, hoping
to hear from you soon I bid you
kind farewell.
From your cousin
Frank

This letter of Francis Hamilton Hench, 1839-1863, Co. A, 12th Regiment, Pennsylvania Reserve  Volunteers, together with a  carte-de-visite photograph, was found in the family correspondence of University of Virginia professor Atcheson Laughlin Hench.  Frank Hench was killed at Gettysburg 14 months later.


MSS 10000

[from the diary of Eliza Oswald Hill, refugee from Wilmington, N.C.]

Friday  not raining but threatning to do so–This is a pub-
lick prayer day–Set apart by our President & I hope
the weather will allow us to attend Church–Went to Church
& heard one of the finest sermons I ever heard before from out
excellent Bishop–It rained too hard for me to attend to night
but most of our ladies went, & heard Mr Patterson.  A
Greek–very pious & very talented–& very to us excentric–
In the morning Mr Cheshire read the prayers–& a stranger the
lessons for the Bishop.

MSS 6960

[from the diary of Daniel D. Logan, younger brother of General Thomas M. Logan, formerly a Sgt, Co. B, 1st Special Battalion (Rightor’s), now with the Hampton Legion]

                        Friday – May 16th 1862
Rode down to the Rocketts &
Tole gate this morning on Cap’t
Harrisons horse, in search of my own
also to try & find some of Genl
Magruders wagons & our baggage –
No news today from our Army or
Batteries – The Yankee gunboats
are reported to have been seen
below City Point this morning
going to the roads [Hampton Roads]. Capt Harrison rec’d
orders this Evening & we leave in
the morning for the Army, which
is now on this side of the Chicka-
hominy river, having fallen back
five miles from our former position –
This day the stores are all closed & the
churches are open for prayer – Mrs Harvey
& Miss Sallie left this morning for Lynch’bg
Went to see them off on the Canal boat

[The following is cross-written over the above page.]
     Mr. H & I are left alone on G
Street – the house is lonely – Stood
on church Hill this morning & took
a view of the splendid scenery from its
heights – Richmond is certainly the
most beautiful City I have ever seen – its
beauty from this site is not to be forgotten
Walked in the Capitol Square this evening
at twilight with Capt H & Collins

[transcription by Mary Roy Dawson Edwards]

MSS 6154