Col. John B. Wyman and the Battle of Chickasaw Bayou

In the closing days of 1862, Union Major General William Tecumseh Sherman departed from Memphis with approximately 30,000 men and moved down the Mississippi River to the mouth of the Yazoo. There, he would attempt to take fortress Vicksburg from the north by capturing a line of heights known variously as the Walnut Hills or the Chickasaw Bluffs. The move downriver was part of a pincer movement on a grand scale. While U.S. Grant's army was feeling its way down the Mississippi Central Railroad in north Mississippi, Grant sent Sherman on his mission in hopes of taking Vicksburg while the bulk of John C. Pemberton's Confederate army was still entrenched behind the Yalobusha River at Grenada. Because of the successful Confederate raid on Holly Springs, however, Grant was forced to withdraw to protect his supply line and Pemberton was able to shift troops by rail to counter the threat posed by Sherman. The Confederate forces arrayed along the Chickasaw Bluffs would be commanded by Stephen D. Lee and Martin L. Smith.

Disembarking from transports with three divisions at a place called Johnson's Plantation on December 26, Sherman's men faced a tall task. The terrain they were to cover before arriving in front of the Confederate defenses was, as Sherman described it, "miry, swampy ground."  The next day, the Federal troops started slogging toward the Confederate position, protected by rifle pits below the bluff and covered by artillery frowning down from the heights above. The line was further protected by a system of bayous and sloughs that was waist-deep in water. This natural barrier severely limited the Federal approach. Hampered by the terrain and Confederate artillery fire, Sherman's advance was agonizingly slow. On the 28th, he probed for a weakness in the Rebel position and attempted to turn the Confederate right flank but was rebuffed by artillery fire. Making no headway on the flanks, Sherman decided to try a frontal assault on the 29th. With an artillery bombardment preceding the attack (which was largely ineffective), the Federals forced their way across a causeway over Chickasaw Bayou about noon and formed lines of battle in front of the waiting Confederate defenders. The result was disastrous for Sherman's men. In a short time, the Yankees were driven back across the bayou with heavy losses. According to Confederate Major General Martin Luther Smith "the enemy struggled up to within a short distance of our line, when he wavered, stopped, and soon fled in irretrievable panic and confusion, strewing the ground with his dead and wounded, leaving in our possession 4 regimental colors, over 300 prisoners, and 500 stands of arms." Smitten by the repulse, Sherman considered renewing the attack again the next day but decided instead to withdraw. After suffering a patriotic-sounding 1,776 casualties, the attack at Chickasaw Bayou had been a complete and total failure. The stout Confederate defenders, meanwhile, lost fewer than 200 men.

Among the units involved in the attack at Chickasaw Bayou was the 13th Illinois Infantry of Blair's brigade and Steele's division. Known as "Fremont's Grey Hounds," the regiment mustered into service at Dixon, Illinois, in April 1861 and enlisted for three years. After being sent to Missouri in the opening months of the war, the 13th (some of whose men are seen here) was used for garrison duty at Rolla, Missouri, and saw no action for nearly two years (Chickasaw Bayou, in fact, was the first battle for the "Grey Hounds"). Leading the unit was Col. John B. Wyman. Born in Massachusetts in 1817, Wyman was relatively old when the war began (he was forty-five when he enlisted). With no formal education past age fourteen, Wyman (right) was "a thoroughly self-made man," and worked in a variety of jobs before joining the army. Early in his life, he sold clothes and worked in a mercantile store before landing a clerk's position with a railroad car manufacturing firm in Springfield, Massachusetts. By 1850, he had become a conductor on the New York & New Haven Railroad and then rose to Superintendent of the Connecticut River Railroad. After landing a job with the Illinois Central, Wyman settled in Amboy, a short distance from Dixon. Here, he was elected mayor and was serving as such when war erupted. Early in his life, he had also participated in the formation of militia companies and in fact had commanded the "Chicago Light Guards," considered to be a crack outfit. Thus, with business, political and military experience, Wyman was considered a well-rounded and logical choice for colonel. According to a regimental historian, his career was "well calculated to give him a broad and comprehensive knowledge of men and things, and thus better fit him for the stern duty which he was afterwards called upon to perform." While posted in Rolla, Missouri, Wyman proved his worth as an administrator and had a fort named after him. Today, there is a Colonel John B. Wyman Elementary School in Rolla in his recognition of his service there. Curiously, the school's mascot is a bulldog and not, as one might imagine, a greyhound.

In December, 1862, Colonel Wyman and the 13th Illinois finally got the opportunity to fight. On December 28, while leading his regiment near Mrs. Lake's House, Col. Wyman was shot by a Confederate sharpshooter. According to a soldier in the 13th, he had been calmly surveying the terrain with his field glasses and had disregarded the danger posed by sharpshooters, saying that "the bullet was not made that could hit him." The bullet that was apparently made for Wyman hit him near the shoulder. According to one account, he accepted his fate "with sublime courage...and a pleasent  [sic] smile." When informed that his colonel had been wounded, the regimental surgeon, Dr. Plummer, immediately left the field hospital (without asking for leave) and rode to check on him. Soon, Dr. Plummer was overtaken by the ranking surgeon who demanded to know why he had abandoned his post. When Plummer answered in less than civil terms and sent "a plump refusal to obey" the order to return, he was brought up on charges. When Sherman was later informed of the circumstances, he dismissed the charges with little more than a reprimand. Col. Wyman, meanwhile, was taken back to the field hospital where his "sublime courage and pleasant smile" were replaced with a less than amiable disposition. Rather, according to the unit history, "the cyclone of his soul burst forth, and the most fearful imprecations were hurled through the lips which, at the same moment were covered with the froth of near approaching death." Called from the field of battle was the colonel's son, Osgood Wyman, a corporal serving with the 13th Illinois. Cpl. Wyman was at his father's side when he died. Col. John B. Wyman was the highest ranking officer killed in action at Chickasaw Bayou.

The colonel's body was placed in a metallic coffin and sent by boat upriver, where it arrived at Memphis on New Year's Day, the same day that Sherman's troops began reboarding the transports on the Yazoo. From Memphis, Wyman's corpse was carried further upriver and buried in the Prairie Repose Cemetery in Amboy, where a "vast concourse of people witnessed his burial." He was later reinterred in the Rose Hill Cemetery in Chicago, a large, Victorian burial ground where rest such prominent businessmen as Aaron Montgomery Ward, Julius Rosenwald and Charles Schwab, along with no less than eleven former mayors of Chicago. Wyman's grave (right) is marked by a large monument erected by the veterans of the 13th Illinois Infantry in 1869. The veterans likely included Osgood Wyman, who survived the Civil War and moved to Eagle Grove,  Iowa, where he worked as a flagman on the Chicago & Great Western Railroad. He died in 1933 and is buried in Eagle Grove's Rose Hill Cemetery.

Before his death at Chickasaw Bayou, John B. Wyman had been promoted to brigadier general, a promotion that certainly would have pleased him and would have been cheered by the men of his regiment. Like Confederate Col. Isham W. Garrott of the 20th Alabama, who was also killed by a sharpshooter during the siege of Vicksburg before learning he had been promoted to brigadier, Wyman never knew of his appointment. For the good people of Dixon, Illinois, and nearby Amboy, however, this made Wyman the most important person to have ever lived in their little town. That would be true until the late 20th Century when someone from Dixon was elected to the highest office in the land. His name was Ronald Wilson Reagan.






Photo and Image Sources:
(1) Sherman: http://civilwardailygazette.com
(2) Chickasaw Bayou: http://www.civilwaralbum.com
(3) Map: From Military history and reminiscences of the Thirteenth regiment of Illinois volunteer infantry in the civil war in the United States, 1861-1865 (1892)
(4) 13th Illinois: http://ozarkscivilwar.org/photographs/13th-illinois-infantry/
(5) Wyman: http://www.findagrave.com/
(6) Field Hospital: http://www.flickr.com/photos/target_man_2000/5608756406/
(7) Monument: https://www.pinterest.com/marathonpundit/history/
(8) Reagan:http://www.ronaldreaganweb.com/ronaldreaganweb/biography.htm

Electric Mills and George C. Hixon

Kemper County, Mississippi, is the site of an enormous electric power plant fueled by a coal gasification process. Known as the Kemper Project, the plant is set to begin operation in 2014. Given the size of the plant, it is sure to have an impact on the region’s economy. The Kemper Project is not the first industrial plant associated with electricity to locate in Kemper County, however. Though not on the same scale, the Sumter Lumber Company, also known as Electric Mills, transformed the area in the early twentieth century and in the process established a thriving, self-sustaining and modern community. ­

Originally located in Sumter County, Alabama, the Sumter Lumber Company relocated to Kemper County, Mississippi in 1911 after the Alabama mill burned the previous year. Besides, the mill had already exhausted the timber resources at the Sumter County site, so the owners moved the operation across the state line. The original plant was located on the Alabama Great Southern Railroad and the new plant was similarly situated, taking advantage of an existing stop on the Mobile & Ohio Railroad known as Bodga Station south of Scooba and on an old line known as the Mississippi, Gainesville & Tuscaloosa, which had its terminus at Narkeeta. The abandoned rail line served as a dummy line to the plant. Construction of the mill began in May 1911. Like the Finkbine mill at D’Lo (which went into operation in 1916), the Sumter mill (above) was all-electric and generated its own power. By the mid-1920s, the mill was operating with two shifts and had a cutting capacity of 300,000 feet per day of virgin, shortleaf pine harvested from the company’s vast holdings of 165,000 acres. 

Along with the mill, the Sumter Lumber Company constructed the nearby town of Electric Mills, so named because Sumter was among the earliest all-electric facilities in the region. As with other companies, the owners spared no expense in building a community for its workers and made every effort to create a self-contained town, including a company store, a church, two schools, and recreation for the mill’s families. The town also had electric lights generated by the plant, so the community was quite advanced for the period. Workers enjoyed use of a club house, a children’s playground, an extensive library, two theaters, an ice cream parlor, and an ice plant. A "union" church (above left) provided religious services each week, with Methodist, Baptist and Presbyterian clergy preaching there on a rotating basis (the Methodist pastor preached twice each month). The town even had its own baseball teams. Among those who played for the company club was Henry Presswood, who was born at Electric Mills in 1921. Presswood (left) played professional baseball in the Negro Leagues with the Cleveland Buckeyes and the Kansas City Monarchs  from 1948-1952, after which he went to work at Inland Steel in Chicago and played for their company team. Presswood retired from Inland Steel after thirty years. In 2010, Hank “Baby” Presswood was honored with his own baseball card in recognition of his years playing shortstop in the Negro Leagues. Now 92 years old, Pressman lives in Chicago and remains a dedicated baseball fan. In addition to the schools and church and recreational amenities, the little town also had a modern, 52-bed hospital for the mill workers and their families. The George C. Hixon Memorial Hospital included an x-ray room and equipment to repair fractures and was available to other people in the region. The hospital was staffed by a chief surgeon and two assistant doctors with a full complement of nurses and technicians, making it a model health care facility for the time. Health care at the hospital was provided at no cost to the workers (a bonus on top of what was already considered a generous wage). Needless to say, the turnover rate for mill employees was fairly low. 

The George C. Hixon Memorial Hospital (right) was named for George Cooley Hixon, a lumber baron from Chicago. George’s father, Gideon C. Hixon, was a prominent political figure and businessman in Wisconsin who built a lumber empire spanning multiple states by the time of his death in 1892, at which time George and other members of the family were left to run the company. Over the next two decades, George Hixon invested heavily in timber and wheat and other commodities and in the process became a very wealthy man. In 1920, for example, he lived an expensive apartment on East Lake Shore Drive in Chicago. The apartment building (lower right) was designed by architect Benjamin Marshall. Although not formally trained as an architect, Marshall was inspired by the “White City” of the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893 and learned the trade as an apprentice. In 1905, Marshall formed his own architectural firm with Charles Fox. In addition to a number of exclusive high-rise apartment buildings along the waterfront in Chicago, Marshall & Fox also designed the Edgewater Gulf Hotel in Biloxi and the Markham Hotel in Gulfport. While the Markham still stands, the grand old Edgewater – which included gardens, tennis courts, a golf course and an enclosed swimming pool – was demolished in 1971 in order to expand the Edgewater shopping mall. The apartment building occupied by George Hixon, meanwhile, has been renovated and is now a high-end residential property in Chicago.

Considering Hixon’s success in business, his Ivy League education (he was a Yale graduate) and his political connections, it would be logical to assume that he would marry into the social elite of Chicago. After all, he was a member of several exclusive clubs, including the very selective Midwick Country Club in Pasadena, California, where members paid a staggering $3,800 initiation fee for the privilege of playing polo with the likes of Will Rogers, David Niven, Spencer Tracy and Walt Disney. Instead, he married Blanche Kelleher on Thanksgiving Day in New York City in 1900. Blanche was a stage performer and the daughter of Alfred J. and Susannah Kelleher, both musicians. In fact, Alfred was a professor of music in San Francisco who studied in London at the Royal Academy of Music. After performing in the opera in New York, he moved to California to teach voice at Mills College. Blanche followed in her parents’ footsteps and regularly appeared at festivals and shows. After marrying George and moving to Chicago, she continued to perform and during the First World War volunteered as a Y.M.C.A overseas entertainer and a member of the Stage Women’s War Relief. Life was indeed good for George and Blanche Hixon. Then, on April Fools’ Day in 1923, he died of cancer at the age of fifty-two and was buried in La Crosse, Wisconsin, with the rest of the Hixon family. His monument (above right) is appropriately elaborate for a man of his wealth and prestige. Blanche, meanwhile, lived another twenty-four years and died in California in 1947. She never remarried and the couple had no children. 

In Kemper County, Mississippi, of course, there was another memorial to George Hixon, and that was the hospital at Electric Mills. The town and the mill continued to serve the area until 1940, where rumors began to circulate that the mill was about to close. The reason was obvious: the timber supply was quickly disappearing. By September, 1941, Sumter Mills was finished and approximately seventy-five workers were out of a job. Luckily, there was plenty of work available at the shipyards in Pascagoula and Mobile, as the United States was preparing for another world war. Although there were jobs available, Electric Mills had been home to many for decades and had been a good place to live and raise a family. In a short time, Electric Mills, once known as the “brightest town south of St. Louis” because of its electric lights, was a virtual ghost town. Within a few months, Mississippi Governor Paul Johnson abolished the town’s incorporation, as only 100 inhabitants remained. Today, Electric Mills exists only as an intersection on Hwy. 45 with a few houses and, appropriately enough, a lumber yard. 

Photo and Image Sources:

Sumter Lumber Company & Union Church: http://www.msrailroads.com

Presswood: http://midwestcardboard.blogspot.com

Hospital: http://www.msrailroads.com

Marshall building: http://www.chicagomag.com

Hixon: http://books.google.com

Hixon monument: http://www.findagrave.com

Map: http://www.topozone.com

Christmas Past: A Civil War Sampler

Christmas is a special time for many. During the holiday season, much time is spent rushing to and fro to fill the shopping basket with gifts or to get the ingredients for the big family meal. For others, the season is a time for reflection on the events of the year past or on what may be in store for the future. Certainly, it is a time for celebration and anticipation (especially for Santa Claus!), but Christmas can also be a time of sadness for those separated from their loved ones through death or by distance. All of these emotions were felt during the Civil War as well, and through the letters and diaries of the men who served in that conflict, we have a window on what it was like in a Civil War army at Christmas. Several years ago, I published a monograph called “Christmas Past: A Civil War Sampler.” For those familiar with that little book, some of the accounts which follow will be familiar, but there are others here which do not appear in that work. The diary entries below are not arranged by year and vary between Union and Confederate soldiers. Some talk about Santa Claus; others about what they had to eat or drink (including “fully-loaded” egg-nog); many reminiscence about home and family; and some express bitterness or sadness at the condition of the country. There are also a couple of civilian accounts thrown in for good measure. While I hope you enjoy these voices from the past, I trust that you will find that Civil War soldiers – whichever uniform they wore – were basically the same. I also hope that as you read these accounts and experience just a taste of a Civil War Christmas, you will remember those men and women in our armed forces today who must spend their holiday in uniform around the world protecting our freedoms. –  Ed.

 _____

Christmas morning a fine one. The boys began to take their Christmas last night. A good deal of drunkenness in camp. In the morning the captain gave us a treat of egg nogg. One-half the boys very tight by nine o’clock…Never saw so many drunk men before. It might be said with propriety that the 7th  regiment was drunk on the 25th.   

-  David Phillips, 7th Tennessee Infantry

  _____

December 24th

…It is rumored that there are sundry boxes and mysterious parcels over at Stoneman’s Station directed to us. We retire to sleep with feelings akin to those of children expecting Santa Claus. We have become very childish in some manners – grub being one of them.

December 25th.

Went on a detail making corduroy roads. It was a dismal day but rendered quite endurable by the anticipation of what was in store in our boxes. On returning to camp, I was informed by my tentmate that there was no parcel at the station bearing my name. My mental thermometer not only plummeted to below zero, it got right down off the nail and lay on the floor. Seeing this, my tentmate made haste to dive under the bed and produce the box, which he had brought from the station during my absence, and in but a few minutes we were busy discussing the merits of its merits. Most of the men have been remembered, and any that have not received something from home are allowed to share with their more fortunate neighbors.

 

- John W. Haley, Co. I, 17th Maine Volunteers

  _____

Wednesday, Dec. 25, 1862. Camp near Manassas.

Pleasant weather. Since we do not have a chaplain, this morning we held a hymn-service instead. I enjoyed the music – reminded me of Papa’s and Edward’s singing at home. I enjoyed the hymns with the familiar tunes, as On Jordan’s Stormy Banks, When I Can Read My Title Clear, Rock of Ages, Silent Night. I don’t know why sermons at Christmas are necessary. Bible reading and hymn singing are sufficient – in time of war perhaps more meaning ful than sermons.        

- Franklin L. Riley, Co. B, 16th Mississippi Infantry

 _____

 

Christmas morning my thoughts naturally turned to the little old log cabin in the backwoods of western Illinois, and I couldn’t help thinking about the nice Christmas dinner that I knew the folks at home would sit down to on that day.

There would be a great chicken pot pie, with its savory crust and a superabundance of light, puffy dumplings; delicious light, hot biscuits; a big ball of our home-made butter, yellow as gold; broad slices of juicy ham, the product of hogs of our own fattening, and home cured with hickory-wood smoke; fresh eggs from the barn in reckless profusion, fried in the ham gravy; mealy Irish potatoes, baked in their jackets; coffee with cream about half an inch thick; apple butter and crab apple preserves; a big plate of wild honey in the comb; and winding up with a think wedge of mince pie that mother knew so well how to make – such mince pie, in fact, as was made only in those days, and is now as extinct as the dodo. And when I turned from these musings upon the bill of fare they would have at home to contemplate the dreary realities of my own possible dinner for the days – my oyester can full of coffee and a quarter ration of hardtack and sow-belly comprised the menu…   

- Leander Stillwell, 61st Illinois

 _____

On the 21^st of December we were visited by a cold, freezing rainstorm, which at night changed into snow, and the next morning we arose to find the ground hidden ‘neath winter’s mantle, while the light feathery flakes were rapidly descending from the dark clouds o’erhead. The sun rose the next days on a wintry scene of dazzling beauty, such as the eye seldom gazes on…it was one of winter’s most magnificent pictures, calling forth unbounded expressions of admiration from those who had never witnessed such a spectacle. It was, indeed, something new to those who had been accustomed only to the softly-smiling skies and balmy atmosphere of a land filled with orange groves and budding blossoms. Thus gathering around him gorgeous wintry scenes of nature’s unrivaled paintings, the old year was rapidly passing away. Christmas was generally observed and celebrated by the detachment. Early in the morning the bell over quarters commenced a rapid tintinnabulation not customary to it, accompanied by the dread cry of “Fire! Fire!” There was rolling tumbling and jumping out of one, two and three-story berths; a general scramble for clothing, intermingled with all kinds of cries and exclamations. “Where are my shoes?” “Who has my pants?” “Where the devil is my coat?” etc. etc. We went out of the only door, from which a flight of steep steps led to the ground, at the imminent risk of broken necks and limbs, some clothed, others in dishabille, hatless and shoeless – a motley crowd, indeed – only to find a pleasant moonlit morn and nothing astir. We had been incontinently “sold” by some soldier who remembered it was Christmas morning and loved a practical joke. Many enjoyed the fun, while others commenced the day by using the King’s English in a manner not taught in the Bible.  

- Willie Tunnard, 3rd Louisiana Infantry

  _____

 

December 24, 1863

The night was very cold but the day beautiful. I sent out a foraging party which procured 30 bushels of corn & half a ton of hay. We had an Inspection. I corrected the rolls & examined the state of the rations. “Tis the night before Christmas” – not exactly of civilization yet I have seen many worse days & nights than this…Inasmuch as I shall have no time to morrow I drank to night the last of a bottle of wine I brought from home & wished Merry Christmas to everyone who deserves it.  

- Charles B. Haydon, Co. I, 2nd Michigan Infantry

 _____

 

Camp near Fred'burg
Dec 25th, 1862
My dear Sister
This is Christmas Day. The sun shines feebly through a thin cloud, the air is mild and pleasant, [and] a gentle breeze is making music through the leaves of the lofty pines that stand near our bivouac. All is quiet and still, and that very stillness recalls some sad and painful thoughts. This day, one year ago, how many thousand families, gay and joyous, celebrating Merry Christmas, drinking health to absent members of their family, and sending upon the wings of love and affection long, deep, and sincere wishes for their safe return to the loving ones at home, but today are clad in the deepest mourning in memory to some lost and loved member of their circle. If all the dead (those killed since the war began) could be heaped in one pile and all the wounded be gathered together in one group, the pale faces of the dead and the groans of the wounded would send such a thrill of horror through the hearts of the originators of this war that their very souls would rack with such pain that they would prefer being dead and in torment than to stand before God with such terrible crimes blackening their characters. Add to this the cries and wailings of the mourners - mothers and fathers weeping for their sons, sisters for their brothers, wives for their husbands, and daughters for their fathers - [and] how deep would be the convictions of their consciences. Yet they do not seem to think of the affliction and distress they are scattering broadcast over the land. When will this war end? Will another Christmas roll around and find us all wintering in camp? Oh! That peace may soon be restored to our young but dearly beloved country and that we may all meet again in happiness.  

- Tally Simpson, Co. A, 3rd South Carolina

 _____

 

When I look back over the last year and think of the danger I have passed through, the many hardships and privations I have endured, I wonder that I am living today, for I have seen so many good men shot down, so many die of sickness. I have seen so many, very many fresh covered graves, that I feel I have indeed been fortunate.   

- Albert J. Blackford, Co. F. 107th Illinois

 _____

 

I am truly sorry that I cannot spend Christmas in Yazoo…Perhaps I could get something more palatable to eat than corn bread, or pleasant to drink that muddy water. I am sure the visit would be a pleasant one if I could get neither. I would love the visit on account of the society. The presence of some of my friends would be both meat and drink to me. 

-  Robert James McCormack, 3rd Mississippi 

Infantry, from Canton, Mississippi

 _____

 

A Merry Christmas to you dear wife. Since I cannot wish it you by word of mouth, I will by word of pen and paper. No doubt you are enjoying yourself finely to day with the abundance of good things which are so plenty and so cheap in the peaceful north.

A few extras would not go badly in this region to day but as they are not comestible we content ourselves with what we have and by tomorrow no doubt we shall feel as well as though we had stuffed ourselves full of roast turkey and plum pudding.

I’ll tell you what we – that is Capt. Gasternicht and myself, propose to have to day for dinner. First the universal ‘sowbelly’ (bacon) and coffee, then boiled beans with bread and butter. This last is an extra, the result of the captain’s foraging expedition outside of the picket lines yesterday. He succeeded in getting about 3/4ths of a pound of white stuff they called butter and a canteen of milk all for the small sum of 50 cents and had to go three miles for that….    

- Hiram P. Roberts, Chaplain, Co. E, 84th Illinois

 _____

 

Sunday, December 25, 1864 We all went down last night to see the tree and how pretty it looked. The room was full of ladies and children and Cap. gave us music on the pianno and tried to do all he could to make us enjoy our selves and we did have a merry time. All came home perfectly satisfied. This has ben a cold dark day but we all went down to see how the tree looked in the day time but it was not as pretty as at night.    

- Carrie Berry, a 10-year-old living in Georgia

 _____

 

The north wind comes reeling in fitful gushes through the iron bars, and jingles a sleighbell in the prisoner's ear, and puffs in his pale face with a breath suggestively odorous of eggnog...Christmas Day! A day which was made for smiles, not sighs - for laughter, not tears - for the hearth, not prison.   

- Lt. Col. Frederick Cavada, 114th Pennsylvania, 

from Libby Prison in Richmond

_____

Dec. 25th Christmas day, but “nary holiday for the soldier boy, far away from the sweet home where of the watched with intense eagerness for the coming of Christmas, expecting to see “Old Santa Claus.”

December 27th. Santa Claus got here at last. Several boxes for W.L.A. arrived today with eatables and other good things sent by those at home to let us know that though we are far from them they still remember us. Many blessings from Him be upon those loved ones at home.    

- George Albert Grammer, Warren (Miss.) Light Artillery

 _____

December 25, 1862

 This is Christmas, and my mind wanders back to that home made lonesome by my absence, while far away from the peace and quietude of civil life to undergo the hardships of the camp, and may be the battle field. I think of the many lives that are endangered, and hope that the time will soon come when peace, with its innumerable blessings, shall once more restore our country to happiness and prosperity.   

 - Corp. J.C. Williams, 14th Vermont

  _____

Fort Gaines, December 24th [Tuesday, 1861]

A Merry Christmas! I wish my darling! Oh! That I had a furlough to share it with you tomorrow  we would both get “tight” on egg-nogg wouldn’t we? You think you wouldn’t do you? but I say if I were home I’d make you take enough to exhillerate you for once in your life well! well! if I am not home with you I won’t make a funeral of my Christmas, but will be as merry as can be, we have a merry party in the “Bazaar” mess and if only receive a jug of good old rye whiskey by this boat, which we expect confidently, we will make a “welkin ring” tomorrow…

Fort Gaines, Christmas Evening

…I mustn’t close my letter without giving you a little description of our christmas dinner, Bob Wier who presides over the “last chance mess” invited us to dine; and a grand dinner it was I tell you!  -

BILL OF FARE:    

Cold Turkey        Eggs       Sweet Potatoes

Roast Beef        Bread      Mince Pie     

Pigeon Pie        Rice     One Kind of Cake

Pepper       Vinegar           Pepper Sauce

Mustard        Jelly Cake       Sugar

Sherry Wine        Port Wine    Another Kind of Cake

Sugar Topped Cake       Salt       Turnips  

Every one of the above dishes was there and more than I can eat or remember…

May this be the last Christmas that I spend away from your side!       

- James M. Williams, Co. A, 21st Alabama Infantry

 _____

 

December 25th 1861
Miss Orrilla Davis and Nan Davis
My dear little daughters,
This is Christmas night and no doubt while I am setting in my tent in a war camp, you are enjoying yourselves at the Christmas Supper which I understand you are having at the Court House. No doubt you are enjoying yourselves over your Christmas presents and I hope Santa Claus in his rambles last night did not miss the Stockings of my two little girls but put something nice in them to make them happy. I got a Christmas present this evening which was nothing more than a letter from my dear little girl, and I now hasten to answer it. I was very sorry to hear that our sweet little babe was so sick but I hope it is getting well before this time and no doubt but what I will next hear that you and Nan will both have the measels and if you do you must be patient and you will soon get well again. I was surprised that you could write so good a letter & I read it to some of the boys and they said it contained more news than one half of the letters that they got from Liberty…

The drums are now beating for us to put out the lights so I must stop for this time but will write to some of you again this week. You must write to me often as that is the way to learn, and you don’t know how glad it makes me to get a letter from my dear little girls.
No more this time from your affectionate father,
A.F. Davis

- Andrew F. Davis, Co. I, 15th Indiana

 _____

 

December 25th [1864]

Christmas Day, and very very cold. Have been moving about some of late, but are again in our old quarters, We have had very unpleasant weather for several weeks, The rain had almost washed us away. The whole country around about here appears to be under water it is almost impossible to get about at all. All military movements will have to stop until the roads improve, It is said that Ladies of Richmond intend giving us a New Years dinner hope it may prove true would like right will to get something good to eat. The health of the Regt continues good. There is no news of any importance

January 1st [1865]

The long talked of Christmas dinner has come at last. Three turkeys, two ducks, one chicken and about ninety loves, for three hundred and fifty soldiers. Not a mouth full apiece where has it all gone too, where [did] it go The commisser or quarter masters no doubt got . May the Lord have mercy on the poor soldiers

 

  - John Kennedy Coleman, Co. F, 6th South Carolina

  _____

 

December 25, 1862

Upon this "merry christmas" morn deep fog enshrouds the camp. Thick vapor doth the soldier's vision limit and dim the luster of the rising sun. If once assured this fog would always shroud the hills & valleys with its pale mantle, and shut forever from our view the radiance of yon sun, "how drear & desolate the earth." But no; the fog must "lift," the vapory curtain rise, revealing Natures face more beautiful by contrast with the mist that marked its loveliness. Would 'twere as certain that the hellish fog of treason and the ghastly pall of war, red with burning cities and the crimson field, might vanish. May the peerless ray of Freedom's sun dispel the thickning gloom & bring us peace & unity   

- Isaac L. Taylor, Co. E, 

1st Minnesota Volunteers

 _____

 

It is a sad Christmas; cold, and threatening snow. My two youngest children, however, have decked the parlor with evergreens, crosses, stars, etc. They have a cedar Christmas-tree, but it is not burdened. Candy is held at $8 per pound. My two sons rose at 5 A.M. and repaired to the canal to meet their sister Anne, who has been teaching Latin and French in the country; but she was not among the passengers, and this has cast a shade of disappointment over the family. A few pistols and crackers are fired by the boys in the streets—and only a few. I am alone; all the rest being at church. It would not be safe to leave the house unoccupied. Robberies and murders are daily perpetrated. I shall have no turkey to-day, and do not covet one. It is no time for feasting.     

- John Beauchamp Jones, 

Richmond, Virginia

 _____

 

December 25th.

Christmas Day.  What a contrast in surroundings to the Christmas days of the past.  No rations until near night, so no dinner.  But still it has been in many ways a Merry Christmas.  Wrote to Nellie.  Mind busy of how the dear ones at home were enjoying the day.  Trust that I am learning that it is not the position of material blessings and surroundings that are necessary to give a contented and peaceful spirit.  Feel that the blessings of memory, the sense of the love of the dear ones at home, of the privilege of correspondence with them, the sense of God’s love and care, the precious teaching and promise of his holy word, and privilege of prayer and communication with him have in them rich sources of comfort and content.     

- Sgt. Henry W. Tisdale, 35th Massachusetts

 _____

 

While on the subject of Christmas cheer I will mention a toothsome delicacy which had a ready sale. It was ginger bread, or ginger cakes. An enterprising squad had gone into the business of baking. They had built an oven on a hill over against our camp and secured some baking pans about three feet square. They bought flour and bacon from the commissary, bought a lot of sorghum molasses in the country, and got the grease they needed by frying it out of the bacon. They had numerous customers, who bought and criticized freely; but as I had been paid $840, seven months wages, all the Confederacy ever paid me, I concluded to invest some of my wealth in ginger cakes. I had a good many one-dollar Confederate bills. They were red-backed and about six inches by three in length and breadth. I remembered boyhood days when the old cake man came to town on court days with his basket of cakes and five cents would buy a square eight or nine inches by six inches, and I supposed that one of my dollars, or at most two, would buy half of what the big baking pan contained. But when I handed him my dollar, saying “Give the worth of that,” he just laid the bill on the big square of cake and cut out the size of it and gave it to me for my money. I was so surprised that I did not object, but took my little piece of cake and went away sorrowing that our currency had sunk so low as to be measured in terms of gingerbread.   

- James H. McNeilly, Chaplain, 

Quarles’ Tennessee Brigade

  

Photo and Image Sources:
(1) Harper’s Weekly: http://en.wikipedia.org
(2) Christmas boxes: http://www.sonofthesouth.net 
(3) Civil War tent: http://www.esquire.com 
(4) Snow scene: http://www.sonofthesouth.net
(5) Haydon: http://bentley.umich.edu 

(6) Welcome home: http://www.jocelyngreen.com 

(7) Christmas tree: http://www.nps.gov/shil

(8) Cavada: http://npsgnmp.wordpress.com

(9) Williams: http://www.amazon.com/From-That-Terrible-Field-Volunteers

(10) Soldier: http://historyhappenshere.org

(11) McNeilly: http://ulsternashville.blogspot.com