July 1 – 11, 1865









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July 1.
8 a.m.
This is a good time to
commence my Journal again,
after the hurricane and storm
of yesterday.
On the 17th ult. [?] not being
able to wait any longer we
had on baggage tossed into
a Mexican Lugger and with
the parting injunction of the
General to pitch Head quarters
a mile and a half from land
we “let go our weather [?] plumage.”
Great experience that getting over
the bar [?] tho’. Just as we were coming
upon the bar [?] the skipper jumps up
and declares that he does not know
the channels. At which remarkable
saying every one looked at his
friend. Some of us suggested that


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he might have done better if
he had considered that matter
before starting. But rather than
meet the fate of the poor fellows
in the Schooner who were wrecked
on Padre Island the day before
we decided to “buff up” and
wait for some one [sic] to go in whom
we could follow.
So we took a sail of
half an hour during which
time poor Hawkes in the bottom
of the boat became very sick, and
very unreconciled to our condition.
At last another lugger appeared to
be making for the entrance. So
following her we at last made
a landing.
Selected a place for Head
Quarters to the right of the 1st [?],
and put up half a dozen tents.


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Hawkes, a prime fellow, gets
something in the way of a
lunch + we enjoy it. Open
my case of claret + find
it as good as any
we had on the steamer.
Out medicine during
the voyage to prevent sea
sickness was champagne cock
tails [carrot: and claret punch] with ice something that
is unknown to this climate.
An excellent preventative for sea
sickness + the only thing that
seemed to revive poor Johnnie.




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Next day General comes ashore
+ scolds us all for not having
his tents fixed right.


Dull place for
several days during which time
I work at my office, no one
troubling me.


Finally Gen. I. is appointed
Post Commandant of Brazos Santiago,
and I go down to take the
position of Post Adjutant.
A very good home for
my office + quarters; but not
much of anything in the way
of books + papers.
Open a set of Post
books which with the books for Div.
Head Quarters keep me tolerably


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Gen. Weitzel comes finally—
with Wheeler a full blown
Lieut. Col. and a Major for
the 1st. Div. – Brownson having
become disgusted and resigned at
New Orleans.


Then Sheridan comes down
with his staff.


Then this violent storm
of yesterday comes throwing
of over piles of boards on the
poor fellows whose tents happened
to be pitched near by—
burying some of them who after
being dug out have to be
carried to the hospital so


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injured are they. The steamers
at the wharves put out to have
themselves + the poor little buggers
are tossed about like so many
paper boats in a tub of water.
Every encampment is six inches under
water in an hour + the night becomes
a horrid one for men + officers.




Gen. Jackson having been
relieved from duty as Port
Commandant at Brazos
Santiago, orders were issued to
march to Ringgold Barracks.
The 3rd Brigade is already at
White’s Ranch and the 2nd.
will march there today.
We go forward tomorrow


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Green of the class of ’63 comes
to see me before going home
–having resigned—and we
chat about college matters sitting
in the little cupola
on the top of my office.


This forenoon after packing
a goodly portion of our
luggage on the “Cora” which
is to sail up the Rio Grande
to Ringgold Barracks, we
set out for White’s Ranch
with our horses and the
light wagons. We ride
along the beach was


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delightfully cool + refreshing.
At Clarksville we visited
General Stack [?] whom Weitzel
pronounced a “institution.”
We found him with his
paraquet on his finger and
much more taken up with it,
tan with us, his go callers.
We crossed the Rio Grande
and visited Bagdad, Mexico, and
dined at Madame Champlain’s
I propose to fall back on the
[carrot: evening [?]] that dinner whenever we
get an half rations.
It was overpowering.


Returning we reached White’s
Ranch after dark and turned
in early.