November 22, 1864

Cornelius Platter Diary Entry
(Union Soldier)

Tuesday Nov 22nd . 64

Ordered to march at 7.AM. but it was 10 before we left camp. Our Brigade had the rear of the Division – A very very cold [deleted: day ] morning and continues cold and windy throughout the day – We enjoyed a snow storm in Central Georgia this morning. Roads still very heavy – Pontoon train delayed us very much. Had to halt an hour three or four different times to allow them to get out of our way. & as it was very Cold, the fences along the road had to suffer. We passed the place where Genl. [General] Stoneman was captured last summer. It was the intention to reach Clinton today, but the “Pontoons” got stuck & froze in the mud and it was impossible to go any farther – So we had to halt and go in camp 3 mile from Clinton – It was nine oclock when we went in camp – very dark. ground frozen and very rough. – No rails to build fire with and all half frozen, trains scattered and in no shape, and every one in a bad humor – Wheelers Cavalry is all around us and if they knew our fix this evening we might see a little fun before morning. Had a cold time getting supplies. but when it was ready – I paid my “respects” to a “double ration” Fresh Pork Sweet Potatoes & c. [et cetera] - Distance marched 12 mile


From Cornelius Platter Collection housed at the University of Georgia’s Hargrett Library Special Collections


Dolly Sumner Lunt
A Georgia Woman’s Wartime Journal

NOVEMBER 22, 1864.

After breakfast this morning I went over to my grave-yard to see what had befallen that. To my joy, I found it had not been disturbed. As I stood by my dead, I felt rejoiced that they were at rest. Never have I felt so perfectly reconciled to the death of my husband as I do to-day, while looking upon the ruin of his lifelong labor. How it would have grieved him to see such destruction! Yes, theirs is the lot to be envied. At rest, rest from care, rest from heartaches, from trouble. . . .

Found one of my large hogs killed just outside the grave-yard.

Walked down to the swamp, looking for the wagon and gear that Henry hid before he was taken off. Found some of my sheep; came home very much wearied, having walked over four miles.

Mr. and Mrs. Rockmore called. Major Lee came down again after some cattle, and while he was here the alarm was given that more Yankees were coming. I was terribly alarmed and packed my trunks with clothing, feeling assured that we should be burned out now. Major Lee swore that he would shoot, which frightened me, for he was intoxicated enough to make him ambitious. He rode off in the direction whence it was said they were coming, Soon after, however, he returned, saying it was a false alarm, that it was some of our own men. Oh, dear! Are we to be always living in fear and dread! Oh, the horrors, the horrors of war!


From Documenting the American South – UNC Chapel Hill