Longstreet, East Tennessee, and the weather of 1863-64

   In September 1863, Longstreet took part of his command and moved via railroad from Virginia to Northern Georgia, arriving in time to play a pivotal role in the battle of Chickamauga. After several weeks near Chattanooga, Longstreet moved his men to Knoxville, attempting to wrest control of the city away from the Federals. After the failed attack at Fort Sanders, Longstreet moved into East Tennessee. His force spent the winter there, occasionally battling with the enemy and trying to procure food. (You can read about some of their attempts to supply the army here.)

East Tennessee ca.1863 (LOC)

   Longstreet’s men spent the next five or so months in east Tennessee. They were often cold and hungry, and the weather played a role in the war as it frequently did.

   In December 1863, Longstreet’s men moved from Knoxville toward Bean’s Station. Lewellyn Shaver, a member of the 60^th Alabama Infantry, reported that it rained on December 14, and that the men marched “ankle deep in mud and inclining their heads to the rain as it fell. . . A more dismal day, or a condition more uncomfortable and forlorn can scarcely be conceived: blankets, wet and heavy—clothes, ditto. . . the temperature cold and penetrating…” After the battle of Bean’s Station, Shaver recalled the dead, “their pallid faces drenched and beaten by the rain-drops.”[1] After the war, Longstreet wrote that following the Confederate victory at Bean’s Station, “the weather grew very heavy and the roads, already bad, became soft and impracticable for trains and artillery… As winter had broken upon us in good earnest, it seemed necessary for us to give up the game of war for the time, seek some good place for shelter, and repair railroads and bridges, to open our way back to Richmond.” [2]

   Following the battle, Longstreet’s command moved to the vicinity of Morristown where they constructed winter quarters. Shaver wrote that for the next four weeks, it was intensely cold, with blankets and warm clothing in scant supply. The men had to travel in the snow to cut trees for their camp.[3] Moxley Sorrel, on Longstreet’s staff, stated that at the end of December, the “cold was intense, the record showing the lowest temperature for many years… the glass went down to zero and the entire army was quiet in the effort to keep warm.”[4] James Longstreet complained of a “bitter freeze of two weeks [that] had made the rough angles of mud as firm and sharp as so many freshly-quarried rocks…”[5]

   It was through the snow that the soldiers moved, arriving in Dandridge on January 29, 1864. Sorrel also wrote that the affair at Dandridge was conducted while it was “bitter winter weather, the ground sharp with ice…”[6] William R. Montgomery, 3^rd Batt. Georgia Sharpshooters, wrote that they moved twenty miles through the mud and snow. “Had to lay out 3 nights without any covering (in the snow) save the wide expanded arch of Heaven which you may imagine was by no means pleasant.” On the day he wrote (January 19, 1864), the ground was covered with snow and the wind blowing.[7]

   After a skirmish and remaining in the area several days, they moved to Brabson’s Ferry. Shaver recalled that the camp would be remembered because of the “intensity of the cold.” They soon returned to their camp near Dandridge where they built a bridge over Lick Creek. He also reported more rain during this time.[8] Montgomery wrote on January 20 that it had rained for three or four days. Snow prior to that had been 10 inches in some places.[9]

   There was more of the same in February. Lt. Richard Lewis, 4^th South Carolina, wrote on February 21 that those in camp were exposed “to the cold and chilling blast of winter.”[10] The weather moderated some over the next couple of weeks. Around March 1, the 60^th Alabama moved to Zollicoffer and stayed there several weeks. The weather had improved enough for the men to resume drill. Lieutenant Lewis wrote again of rain on March 9.[11]

   W. R. Stillwell, 53^rd Georgia Infantry, writing on April 3, 1864, recalled moving from Greeneville to Bristol. It took four days to cover the fifty-hour miles, in the snow.[12] After reaching Zollicoffer, Lieutenant Lewis wrote of his tramp, echoing Stillwell. Their march started with snow and sleet, then more snow and blistering winds. On reaching the camp at Zollicoffer, he and his comrades were able to “lay down and bask in sunshine for an hour or two” before pitching camp.[13]

   From these few glimpses we can make some logical deductions. While there were some good days (which get mentioned less in correspondence home), the weather was rough on Longstreet’s men during the winter of 1863-64. Frequent cold fronts passed through the area, bringing snow and sleet. On the nice days, warmer temperatures and sunshine thawed the roads, making travel difficult for supply wagons. Many letters and reminisces mentioned broken-down commissary wagons and artillery pieces sunk to their hubs. A more probing question is: was this all normal, east Tennessee weather? Judkin Browning and Timothy Silver argue that since the 1850s, the Tennessee River Valley area had been in a La Nina cycle. The Tennessee River, which had frequently flooded, was quiet.  However, in 1862, there were heavy rains. The rising Tennessee River allowed the capture of Forts Henry and Donelson.[14] Kenneth W. Noe writes that the winter of 1863-64 in East Tennessee was “exceedingly harsh.”[15] The poor weather taxed animals charged with bringing supplies, and the lack of clothing and shoes hurt the chances of Confederate forces wanting to advance on Knoxville or into Kentucky. From these accounts, we might surmise that the winter of 1863-64 was a little on the unusual side. We may also find a greater appreciation of the terrible hardships faced by these men as they fought a foe much more fearsome than the Union army: Mother Nature.

 

 

 

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[1] Shaver, A History of the Sixtieth Alabama Regiment, 31-32, 36.

[2] Longstreet, From Manassas to Appomattox, 515.

[3] Shaver, A History of the Sixtieth Alabama Regiment, 37.

[4] Sorrel, Recollections of a Confederate State Officer, 220.

[5] Longstreet, From Manassas to Appomattox, 526.

[6] Sorrel, Recollections of a Confederate State Officer, 219.

[7] Montgomery, Georgia Sharpshooter, 100-101.

[8] Shaver, A History of the Sixtieth Alabama Regiment, 40.

[9] Montgomery, Georgia Sharpshooter, 103.

[10] Lewis, Camp Life of a Confederate Boy, 82.

[11] Shaver, A History of the Sixtieth Alabama Regiment, 41.

[12] Hattaway, The Stillwell Letters, 246.

[13] Lewis, Camp Life of a Confederate Boy, 86, 88.

[14] Browning and Silver, An Environmental History of the Civil War, 46-51.

[15] Noe, The Howling Storm, 353.

Confederate Soldiers, Christmas, and Eggnog.

   Eggnog. That beverage associated with Christmas cheer. You either love it, or you hate it. While it is unrealistic to say that it met with universal acclaim throughout the Old South, eggnog was enjoyed by many and seen as a required treat during the holidays. When the sons of the South joined the army, they brought the tradition of eggnog with them.

   So, what is eggnog? The basis is eggs, some type of whiskey (bourbon, brandy, rum), sugar, and milk or cream. One recipe from King George County, Virginia, goes like this: “beat 12 eggs separately, add to the yokes 1 heaping tablespoon full of sugar to every egg, beating all the time.” When very light stir rapidly in 1 pint of brandy and 1 pint of whiskey… Now stir in half of the well beaten whites, then 3 pints of rich cream or 1 pint of milk and 2 of cream, then stir in lightly the remaining whites. A little nutmeg grated is an improvement. Be careful never to add liquor after cream.”[1]

   That first winter of the war found the Southern forces mostly well provisioned, but not as much as they wanted. A member of the 7^th Louisiana Infantry, writing from Camp Carondelet in Virginia, told his mother that Christmas had been dull: “the poor private had to content himself with one drink [of eggnog] around which was given in the morning.” A soldier in the 17^th Mississippi Infantry, also in Virginia, recalled having eggnog, but no ladies to enjoy it with. “Several boys a little tight in camp & some have been sent to the guardhouse.” Various generals often sent out regulations against alcohol in camp. Yet according to a member of the 4^th South Carolina, there were still ways to acquire “the worst kind of ‘rot skull’” at a price. Stationed at Fort Gaines, a soldier in the 21^st Alabama wrote of having two glasses of eggnog before breakfast on December 25. Others undoubtedly followed through the rest of the day. Eggnog first thing in the morning was mentioned by more than one soldier. A member of the 7^th Tennessee Infantry wrote that their captain gifted eggnog on Christmas morning. “One-half of the boys very tight by nine o’clock. Another member of the same regiment wrote that they had so many drunk men, a wagon was employed to haul them around.[2]  

   Christmas 1862 was a different affair. The Army of Tennessee was poised to fight the battle of Murfreesboro, while the Army of Northern Virginia had just fought the battle of Fredericksburg, and watched the Federals, expecting them to pick up the contest soon. But even with tensions high, there was still time for gaiety. A ball was hosted by the 1^st and 2^nd Louisiana in Murfreesboro, Tennessee, in the town hall, attended by many officers. The officers of the 20^th Tennessee gave their men a barrel of whiskey, while in the 154^th Tennessee, “Eggnog was fashionable and Captains, Lieutenants, and Privates was drunk and very troublesome.” Supplies were much harder to come by in Virginia around Fredericksburg. A member of the 5^th Alabama wrote of their sutler arriving, and the mess being able to purchase sugar cakes, ginger bread, candy sugar, Confederate coffee, pepper, and butter. “He was to bring us the materials for an Egg Nog—but he sorely disappointed us in that—about the first Christmas ever spent without nog…” The complaint went even further with a member of the 12^th Virginia: “Christmas [was] the poorest ever spent, no egg nog, no turkey, no mince pie, nothing to eat or drink but our rations. We all talk of home today and wish to be there.” Soldiers stationed away from Fredericksburg were a little better off. Writing from camp near Dumfries, Virginia, a Texas soldier told his wife that “Every mess had its egg-nog or a first-class substitute for it, the first thing in the morning, and something better than common for dinner.”[3]

   Both principal armies were well encamped during Christmas 1863. It had been a hard year, with the death of Stonewall Jackson and Confederate losses at Gettysburg, Vicksburg, and Chattanooga. The Army of Tennessee was north of Atlanta, and the Army of Northern Virginia was in and around Orange Court House. Mentions of eggnog seem to be sparse in the army in Georgia, although there were undoubtedly a few soldiers and officers who were able to enjoy their Christmas concoction. In Virginia, an officer in the 5^th Alabama wrote that he was invited by his colonel “to drink eggnog with him & had a very pleasant time indeed.” Yet a member of JEB Stuart’s staff was disappointed. He had promised his friends a bowl of eggnog, “but the spirits did not arrive-- And consequently I passed a quiet and a sober day in my tent.” The same was almost true for an officer in the 1^st Louisiana, on picket duty near Raccoon Ford on the Rappahannock River. He had concluded that they would be eggnogless for the evening, and had retired to bed, when they heard “horses hoofs on the crisp snow.” They found a camp servant they had sent to Lynchburg with a demijohn. They beat the eggs, stirred in the sugar, and added the whiskey (no mention of milk or cream). “[W] had one of the most delicious noggs that ever mortal man quaffed. Taking a couple of glasses apiece, we retired to bed—to forget the hardships of a soldier’s life, and dream of a joyful reunion with the dear absent ones far away in the Southland.”[4]

   The last winter of the war, 1864, found the wrecked Army of Tennessee in northern Alabama and the Army of Northern Virginia in the trenches around Petersburg and Richmond. A soldier in the 24^th Texas Cavalry, Granburry’s Texas brigade, recalled buying whiskey locally to celebrate the holidays, but made no mention of eggs, cream, or sugar. “[A] wee drop makes an old soldier forget his troubles and hardships for the present” he scribbled in his diary. There was still some eggnog to be had. An officer in the 49^th North Carolina, thanks to the people from back home, had eggnog. A member of Poague’s battalion recalled a fine Christmas dinner that included eggnog. A friend had a friend that operated a blockade runner and “obtained many good things.”[5]

   Christmas was hard on the soldiers in the field, as well as on the families back home. So many of those hearthsides would lose loved ones throughout those four years. While many were undeniably happy to be home for Christmas in 1865, many reflected back on all that had been lost. Slowly, the eggnog, which had accompanied so many Southern Christmas celebrations, eventually faded from the menu.  

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[1] Smith, Famous old Receipts used a hundred years and more in the kitchens of the North and South, 184.

[2] Rawlings, We Were Marching of Christmas Day, 40, 43, 46.

[3] Rawlings, We Were Marching of Christmas Day, 62, 70, 71; Polley, A Soldier’s Letters to Charming Nellie, 21.

[4] Hubbs, Voices from Company D, 207;  Trout, With Pen & Saber, 218; Rawlings, We Were Marching of Christmas Day, 109.

[5] Rawlings, We Were Marching of Christmas Day, 124; McCaslin, Diary of Captain Henry A. Chambers, 168; Poague, Gunner with Stonewall, 109.