This War So Horrible
The Civil War Diary of Hiram Smith Williams, 40th Alabama Confederate Pioneer
The Civil War diary of Hiram Smith Williams is extremely unusual. A carriage maker and native of New Jersey, Williams only arrived in the Deep South in 1959 and yet enlisted in the Confederate Army. As a middle-class craftsman, he represented neither wealthy Southern planters nor yeoman farmers. Part of the 40th Alabama Volunteer Regiment, he was first in Mobile, where he attempted to transfer to the CSA Navy. Failing that, he went with his regiment to Atlanta to engage in the great battle there.
A careful writer, Williams paid the same attention to his composition as he did to his carriages. Unlike many Civil War veterans, he never revised his diary to embellish his record or heroism. Prized by historians both for providing an unique point of view as well as an exceptionally articulate narrative, Williams' diary is an important addition to any Civil War library.
Williams’s writings are quite compelling and interesting. The author not only tells us what happened but includes his own personal feelings at the time. It also fills a void in our knowledge of the duties of the Pioneer units in the Southern Armies.’
—Confederate Veteran
‘Rriveting reading.' —Georgia Historical Quarterly
‘[M]ost intriguing . . . for it is the diary of a Confederate who spent most of his military service as a noncombatant . . . a soldier who was also an outspoken opponent of military life and war in general and of the Civil War in particular. Hiram Smith Williams was a native Northerner who moved to the South shortly before the war but enlisted as a private in the 40th Alabama Infantry. . . . This truly unique diary, which is enlivened by Williams’s keen eye for detail, a certain literary flair, and his frank assessment of the Confederate army and cause, also includes extensive notes and a perceptive introduction.’
—Civil War History
Hiram Smith Williams, born in New Jersey, was an unusual individual. A skilled carriage maker and carpenter, he traveled throughout the Midwest in the 1850s as an organizer for the Know Nothing Party and the candidacy of Martin Van Buren. When Van Buren failed to win the presidency in 1856, Williams spent two years wandering around Missouri, teaching school and writing poetry. In addition to his political activities, he served as a correspondent for several midwestern newspapers.
In 1859, Williams settled in Livingston, Alabama, where he worked as a carriage maker. He quickly identified with people around him and when the Civil War erupted in 1861, he supported the Southern cause. In 1862, he enlisted in the 40th Alabama Infantry Regiment, and through 1863 he served on detached duty as a skilled naval carpenter in Mobile. While in Mobile, Williams was active in the cultural and social life of the city and frequently appeared in plays as a semi-professional actor.
In 1864, he was reassigned to his regiment, part of the Army of Tennessee, which was camped in Dalton, Georgia. From February 1864 until autumn of that year, he participated in the Atlanta campaign as a member of a Pioneer unite, which was composed of men with construction skills. In that capacity he helped build bridges, roads, and fortifications, came in close contact with various unit headquarters, and sometimes worked as a hospital orderly.
The battle is now raging along our entire line, not general, but pretty heavy. As I write the roar of cannon, the shrieking of ball and bursting of shell, makes these old hills echo over and again, while the musketry keeps up a continuous rattle. Most of the firing I think is from the enemies' lines.
It is a lovely day, warm and cloudless. Too lovely for such a fearful tragedy as is now being enacted around me. Of course, I can hear a hundred rumors, but I place no dependency in any of them. So I will not occupy space to write them down. We are still in our old quarters, pretty well protected I think, but we may be ordered away from here at any moment.
Night
After writing the foregoing, I put up my writing materials and sat in front of our cabin taking interest. The shells from the enemies' guns flew harmlessly over our heads, bursting sometimes directly over us and scattering the fragments in every direction. Soon a piece of shell fell in front of our quarters and directly another entered one of our cabins, tearing one end out and creating a great havoc generally. Fortunately no one was hurt by it, but it had such an effect on us that our Captain concluded to hunt for safer positions. Packing our knaps[acks] we started across the valley with the ball and shell, whiz-iz-ing over our heads and falling on every side of us, but we reached a position beyond their range, in safety. The spot selected by our Captain is a little valley in a small undergrowth of timber, about half-a-mile from our line of battle. It is a lovely day, clear and very warm, so that it made me perspire very freely coming over here. I am now writing this page laying down on my blanket with my book before me. Far from a pleasant or comfortable position to write in as my handwriting will abundantly testify. The battle is still raging fiercely. The enemy making repeated charges on our works, their endeavor being to get possession of Rocky Face M[ountain]. I judge they are repulsed by the loud cheering, or rather yelling of our boys. Orders have just come in for us to go up on the line of battle to repair some parapets. I expect we will work all night.
