War Diaries (November 9) (nonfiction)
War Diary entries for November 9
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Diaries
Alfred L. Castleman: November 9, 1861
This morning, as I passed through the camp giving directions about cleaning and ventilating tents, whilst the regiment was on parade, my Colonel, seeing me so engaged, gave orders that no directions of mine need be obeyed till he sanctioned them. A very strange order; but as it releases me from responsibility for the health of the regiment, I shall henceforward leave the police regulations of the camp to him, and stay at the hospital. I think it will take but a short time to convince him of his mistake, and that he knows nothing of the sanitary wants of a camp.
- Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman - SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 26-7
Sarah Morgan Dawson: November 9, 1862
And to think old Abe wants to deprive us of all that fun! No more cotton, sugar-cane, or rice! No more old black aunties or uncles! No more rides in mule teams, no more songs in the cane-field, no more steaming kettles, no more black faces and shining teeth around the furnace fires! If Lincoln could spend the grinding season on a plantation, he would recall his proclamation. As it is, he has only proved himself a fool, without injuring us. Why, last evening I took old Wilson's place at the bagasse shoot, and kept the rollers free from cane until I had thrown down enough to fill several carts, and had my hands as black as his. What cruelty to slaves! And black Frank thinks me cruel, too, when he meets me with a patronizing grin, and shows me the nicest vats of candy, and peels cane for me. Oh! very cruel! And so does Jules, when he wipes the handle of his paddle on his apron, to give "Mamselle" a chance to skim the kettles and learn how to work! Yes! and so do all the rest who meet us with a courtesy and "Howd'y, young Missus!" Last night we girls sat on the wood just in front of the furnace - rather Miriam and Anna did, while I sat in their laps - and with some twenty of all ages crowded around, we sang away to their great amusement. Poor oppressed devils! Why did you not chunk us with the burning logs instead of looking happy, and laughing like fools? Really, some good old Abolitionist is needed here, to tell them how miserable they are. Can't Mass' Abe spare a few to enlighten his brethren?
- Diary of Sarah Morgan Dawson - Confederate civilian, Louisiana
