Showing posts with label Burnside. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Burnside. Show all posts

Friday, March 15, 2024

Diary of Musician David Lane, December 28, 1862

Camp near Fredericksburg, Dec. 28th, 1862.

The battle of Fredericksburg has been fought and—lost. We are now engaged in the laudable occupation of making ourselves comfortable; building log huts to protect ourselves from the cold storms of winter. Our brigade the—First—was not engaged at Fredericksburg. We were commanded by Colonel Poe, a graduate of West Point, a man thoroughly versed in the art of war. He saw the utter hopelessness of the struggle, and, when the order came to advance, he flatly refused to sacrifice[e] his men in the unequal contest. Of course, he was put under arrest, and will be court-martialed, but he saved his men.

The eighteen thousand slaughtered husbands and sons who fell at Fredricksburg does not comprise our greatest loss. This whole army, for the time being, is thoroughly demoralized. It has lost all confidence in its leaders—a condition more fatal than defeat.

The leaders of the different corps do not work in unison. Our commander lacks the mental force to weld and bind these discordant, disintegrating elements into one solid, compact, adhesive mass, subject to his will and guided by his judgment; and herein lies the cause of our defeat.

Everything has the appearance of a protracted stay. We cannot advance; the enemy is too strongly fortified; if he were not, we would give him time to do so. And yet it is dangerous to stay. It is all Government can do, with the river open and all available transports, to furnish this great army with supplies. Should the river freeze, or the Rebels gain a position on its banks, we would be starved out in short order.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 23-4

Wednesday, February 21, 2024

Diary of Musician David Lane, September 4, 1862

We have been three days in camp, and have fully recovered from the fatigues of our long journey. Drill is the order of the day, as it is the necessity of the hour. Officers and men have yet to learn the rudiments of military maneuvering. There is not a company officer who can put his men through company drill without making one—or more—ludicrous blunders. Yesterday our First Lieutenant was drilling a squad of men. He was giving all his attention to "time," and did not notice a fence had planted itself directly across our path. Suddenly he shouted: "Who—who—who! Come this way, you fellows in front—don't you see you are running into that fence?"

On Monday morning one of the men had been cleaning his gun, and, wishing to know if it would burn a cap, laid it down for the purpose of getting one. When he returned, instead of picking up his own gun, he took a loaded one that belonged to a guard. As a result of his stupidity, the ball passed through two tents, entered a young man's heel and passed through his foot lengthwise, rendering him a cripple for life. Rumors were in circulation all day Tuesday of Rebel movements. At dusk twenty rounds of ammunition were distributed.

We were then sent to our quarters to await orders. A spirit of unrest pervaded the camp. Men gathered in groups and whispered their conviction of a night attack.

At nine o'clock a picket fired an alarm. The bugle sounded "To arms." Orderlies ran up and down the line of tents shouting. "Fall in! Fall in with your arms; the Rebels are upon us!"

For a moment there was some confusion, but in less than five minutes we were in line, eager to meet the foe. But no enemy appeared. It was a ruse gotten up by the officers as an emergency drill, and, as such, it was a decided success. There were some ludicrous incidents, but, as a rule, the men buckled on their arms with promptness and appeared as cool as on dress parade.

Yesterday morning, as we were forming for company drill, a courier rode into camp with dispatches from headquarters. Five companies from our regiment were ordered to repair at once to Fort Gaines, eight miles distant, on the Virginia side of the Potomac. We started off briskly, but before we had gone a mile the order was countermanded, and we returned to camp.

The news this morning is not encouraging. General Pope has been defeated and driven back upon the fortifications around Washington, and the Rebels are trying to force their way across the Potomac. We are under marching orders. Rumor says we are to join Burnside's forces at Frederic City.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 8-9

Sunday, February 18, 2024

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop, May 4, 1864

Morning at Stevensburg, Va.—Taking a southwest direction we passed northeast of Stony Mountain and came in conjunction with other marching columns and moving trains. Our ears were filled with confusion, noisy jests, rough questionings and "blowing" of different regiments. Marched fast. Inspired by excitement, our boys were not to be beaten; it was a grand show that nobody saw but the performers. Our course was principally southeast until we reached this deserted village, Stevensburgh, at daylight. Here are fields of artillery and cavalry awaiting us. We rest awhile; I lay on the mossy plank steps of what was a tavern. Grass is in the streets. Buildings old style; paint has seceded. It is a pleasant site, overlooking grand country; had been a desirable place in better days. This movement is to throw our forces together to the right of Lee's position south of the Rapidan, cutting the latters' connection with Fredericksburg and to go on to Richmond, if he does not come out to fight us. This will bring our base of supplies south to points accessible to the coast.

On Field, South of Rapidan, Noon—We took a southerly course to the river, halting but little. Beautiful morning, splendid view of the glorious landscape; rich country. Occasionally stately dwellings of the comfortable Virginia style are left on terra firma and inhabited.

Sun came out hot. Those who had scruples about throwing clothing away on the start, felt the necessity. For an hour and a half the road was strewn with coats, blouses, shirts, blankets and other things, so thickly that we could not march in files without treading upon it, which made marching tiresome. Miles of ground was literally covered.

Men were sun-struck and fell as if shot dead; one who fell as we moved along a narrow dugway, rolled down the hill and lodged against a tree. It is a frightful moan they give as they fall, slamming their guns on the ground. The aid they get from comrades in the ranks is slight; we can only cast a pitying look and pass on. I came near falling. Friends applied water from canteens to the back of my head, neck and breast, which proved a relief. Capt. Swan told me to fall out but I felt determined not to leave the ranks; threw away my woolen blanket and got better.

About 11 a. m. our (Fifth) corps reached the Rapidan River at Germania ford and crossed on pontoons. Several cannon were in position commanding the heights beyond. It was a proud sight to see the columns winding up the rocky slope on the south side, as we descended from the north. They crossed a drove of cattle by driving them through; some were drowned. There was once a bridge here; the stone abutments remain.

The Second (Hancock's) corps crossed at Ely's ford several miles east. His advance surprised and captured a Confederate force this morning that had been watching our army. The Sixth (Sedgwick's) corp crossed five miles west of Germania. The positions of these grand divisions of the Army of the Potomac, in these movements, indicate their respective positions in coming battles, namely: Hancock's corp on the left, Warren's in the center, Sedgwick's on the right. The Ninth (Burnside's) corp is a few miles behind, moving in three columns to be used in emergencies. Cavalry divisions are generally in advance and on our flanks contending with the enemy's detached forces, or harassing his rear, miles away.

Hard fighting is expected by officers and men. We feel the final movement on Richmond is on. It is the beginning of the end-a big butt-end! We are to meet the enemy in regions where fighting has been mostly favorable to the Southern army, in its chosen, often fortified positions. Officers assume that our corps will make the first attack, or will be first attacked. The enemy is familiar with the country where battles are likely to occur. During winter suspension of hostilities, he has moved forces about this country to acquaint them with it. Leading officers know points of natural strategy, hence have many advantages. Naturally he will make a desperate attempt to crush us at a time most opportune to him. His position we shall find when revealed by the attack, or by our skirmishers and scouts. Our men understand this; are nerved for the crisis. Our fate rests with officers.

They were strongly fortified here and a half mile back, but forces in charge retired after a few shots. We lay down behind these fortifications two hours, taking refreshments, rest and sleep. A heavy body of troops are assembled in this vicinity.

Near Wilderness, Sunset.—Bugles sounded again; columns of infantry and trains of artillery move out by brigades, the corps having divided into several columns for convenience in forming for battle and to make closer connections with the left and right wings. It appears, by the way we move, the enemy are not disposed to check us today; all is quiet as if there were no such thing as battle. We move cautiously, through heavy wildernesses on old roads-about 4 o'clock p. m. struck the plank road and were soon near portions of the old battle grounds about Chancellorsville.

The column soon broke off by regiments on either side. То our delight, we were told that we would probably stay the night. There is a broad field covered with troops of all arms; heavy supply trains and artillery, no doubt 40,000 armed men. Generals Grant, Meade, Warren and staffs arrived soon after we camped, also several other generals and staffs. General Wadsworth has been riding among the troops of his division and passing a word with us. The old gentleman is as good natured as ever. He wears the regulation cap, rides a light gray horse, his gray hair cut short and side whiskers closely trimmed. The boys all like the old "Abolish." A have been to a creek and bathed, feel pretty well. Headquarters bands are playing beautifully. The scene is sublime; the red sun hangs just over the woods, the trees are brilliantly green and filled with happy birds. Men by thousands are boiling coffee and frying pork and hard tack.

There is an old mill near, long silent for Secessia's sake, now receiving attention from the boys; they are not likely to slight it until they run it-into the ground. Some are running through it seeing what can be picked up; others are knocking and pulling pine boards from its sides. It is not a stranger to soldiers, they have been here before, both Union and Rebs; Stonewall himself, perhaps; like enough "Fighting Joe." It was about here the former made his last dash. Two of us lug off a wide door for a bed. Of course the boys talk about where we are going; some think they know exactly; it is to Mine Run again, or it is straight to Richmond. We have marched thirty miles. Fog appears as the sun sinks. We lie down early; had no sleep last night; pitch no tents. Probabilities are for an early stir in the morning. We have plumb six days' rations, expect to need them.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 22-5

Saturday, September 30, 2023

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Saturday, June 22, 1861

Arrival at the National Capital. By daylight the cupola of the Capitol greeted our eyes, a reviving sight after three sleepless nights. Col. Ambrose E. Burnside and Capt. Chas. H. Tompkins had a breakfast prepared for us, consisting of roast beef, soft bread and coffee. After unloading battery, we marched towards Camp Sprague, and established our quarters on the left of those of the First R. I. infantry regiment and battery. Our camp was named "Camp Clark," in honor of the celebrated Bishop Clark, of Rhode Island, the model of a Christian minister and true patriot.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 7-8

Saturday, February 18, 2023

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, February 15, 1863

February 15, 1863.        
(Sunday.)

This is a very unpleasant day, but I am comfortable in my tent by the fire. The snow and cold do not make it as disagreeable for us as one would naturally suppose, because we have become accustomed to it. The men seem to enjoy the snow very much. About two weeks ago it was more than one foot deep, and some of the regiments met in regular battle order and had snow fights with each other, and they would yell at a great rate. The bitter cold of winter does not compare in severity with the hard marching of a summer campaign, and I should prefer six winters in camp to one summer on the march.

I saw the Medical Director yesterday at Hamilton's Crossing. He was very pleasant, and assigned me to the Thirteenth South Carolina Regiment without any hesitation. In going to General Lee's headquarters I could see the Yankee camps distinctly, on the other side of the river. I could even see their forces drilling. Their camps are very extensive indeed, and the vast numbers of white tents which stretch across the plains give it the appearance of a great city. This weather puts a stop to Burnside's advance, but I have no fear of defeat when he does advance.

I went to the depot at Guinea's Station and got the box from home. I found it filled with everything which is good to eat, and I would not care to fare any better than at present. I had Edwin, Jim Allen and Ben Strother to take dinner with me the next day. They praised the dinner very much and ate only as soldiers can. I must have all three of them to come again in a day or two.

Two years ago from last Friday you and I were married, and how changed is the scene since then! Little did we think that devastation and distress would so soon spread over the entire land. War seems to be a natural occurrence. It has been our misfortune to experience it, and there is nothing we can do but endure it philosophically and try to become resigned to it.

When you write tell me all the little particulars about George. I dreamed last night of being at home, but thought he would have nothing to do with me and treated me like an entire stranger

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 42-4

Wednesday, February 23, 2022

Major-General Ulysses S. Grant to Major-General Henry W. Halleck, July 4, 1863—10:30 a.m.

NEAR VICKSBURG, MISS.,        
July 4, 1863—10.30 a.m.
Maj. Gen. H. W. HALLECK,
        General-in-Chief:

The enemy surrendered this morning. The only terms allowed is their parole as prisoners of war. This I regarded as of great advantage to us at this juncture. It saves probably several days in the captured town; leaves troops and transports ready for immediate service. General Sherman, with a large force, will face immediately on Johnston and drive him from the State. I will send troops to the relief of General Banks, and return the Ninth Corps to General Burnside.

U.S. GRANT,        
Major-general.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 24, Part 1 (Serial No. 36), p. 44

Sunday, January 23, 2022

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: May 13, 1863

To-day the regiment is ordered to prepare to move from Corinth with camp and garrison equipage. In the afternoon Companies E, B and C, proceed by rail to Henderson, Tennessee, a station on the Mobile and Ohio railroad. In the evening the remaining companies load their camp and garrison equipage on the cars, ready to start in the morning for Bethel, Tennesssee, on the same road, four miles above Henderson towards Corinth. The news comes to-night that Hooker has re-crossed the Rappahannock; that Stoneman has been driven back, and that yet the rebel government holds sway in Richmond. So much for rumor. Hooker is dropped now and the acclamations of the Seventh are confined to “Burnside and No. 38," and for the arrest of Vallandigham.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 169-70

Saturday, January 1, 2022

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, May 5, 1863

To-day northern papers are received containing Burnside's General order No. 38, for the benefit of Ohio's devilish democracy. We deem it a good cure for treason and traitors, and we all hope that it will be enforced to the letter, and that the leading light of modern democracy, C. L. Vallandigham, will become a victim to its force. All hail, Burnside! as the honest general who dares to do right—who dares to prosecute the war with an earnest determination—who dares to punish traitors in the north! They may tell us the war is a failure—that the great Union is declining—that the gallant dead have died in vain—that they have closed their eyes in death, dishonored men; they may say, as has been said by Miller, in the Illinois Legislative chamber, that the time will come when the surviving Union soldier will be ashamed to hold up his head and say he took a part in the war for the Union, but we catch the spirit of prophecy and say that the time will come when modern democracy as a party will be branded as a gigantic liar-that the time will come when the children of the soldiers and sailors who battled on land and sea for the republican idea, will, in the language of Grace Greenwood, date their rights to nobility back to grander battlefields than Agincourt or Bannockburn. Many a coat of arms in the future will have one sleeve hanging empty. We may picture to ourselves a group of noble young lads, some ten years hence, thus proudly accounting for their orphanage—an orphanage which the country should see to it should not become destitue. Says one, my father fell fighting with Wallace in the Wilderness of Shiloh, says another, my father fought with Hooker, when his guns flashed flame in midnight darkness over Lookout Mountain; another, my father suffered martyrdom in Libby Prison; and another, my father was rocked to sleep beneath the waves in the iron cradle of the monitor. Then there will be hapless lads who will steal away and in the bitterness of soul will say, alas, for me! I have no such gloryings; my father was a rebel who fought against the flag of the Union; and there will be another class still more unfortunate, who will utter the pitying wail, oh! my God, help me! my father was a cowardly northern copperhead, who denounced the defenders of the Union as hirelings and vandals. Yes, and the time will come when the record of modern democracy in these years of war will be sought to be buried and consigned to the "dead past,” when this treasonable faction will pander to those men who saved the Union when they sought its life. They will feign to drop tears over the graves of those they murdered, and utter hypocritical words of sympathy to the widows and orphans whom they insulted when the Republic was passing through the long night of war. Soldiers of the Union, mark the prophecy.

The following extract from a communication written by a soldier of the Seventh, may not be inappropriate to these pages:

To-day we were shown a letter from one of the lights of modern democracy in Logan County, urging a soldier to desert the hireling abolition army, and not disgrace his friends any longer, telling him that the war was a failure, and for him to return to the house of his friends. The reply was made, “I am a man, and no consideration offered by modern democracy can tempt me to desert the banner of freedom. What! disgrace my friends! I to-day disown all who would, like you, urge me to barter away my manhood. You tell me the war is a failure; you evidently base your judgment upon its prolongation. This does not discourage me; I remember that it took eight years to establish the first independence, but what would twenty years be in permanently establishing a government that may in time revolutionize the civilized world? When you and your traitor friends, conscience stricken and seared with crime and sin, shall, as an apt illustration of latter-day so-called democracy, go down to the grave, over your head should be written, 'Here sleeps a modern democrat; and may the winds of heaven never kiss his solitary abode, nor the worms feed upon that flesh that will in all coming time be the scorn and derision of mankind; may he not be permitted to come forth in the resurrection morning, but may he sleep on, unmourned and forgotten forever.' In [conclusion], I would urge loyal men everywhere not to listen to the clamor for peace and compromise, for that means a withdrawal of the Union armies and to give up the struggle and acknowledge the independence of the south. From the commencement of the war up to the present time, we, the soldiers of Illinois, have helped to fight the great battles for the Union—we have seen our comrades bleed and die-we have trod in their heart's blood-have passed through many sleepless nights, watching and waiting, but the war still lingers on, the south with its wild legions still struggles for dominion, and yet while shouts of victory ascend from crimson battle-fields, designing men would have us compromise, would have us concede to the murderers and assassins. Shall we do it? The loyal people say no; a voice from every battle field, and from the waters where moved the men of war, cries no. But may a morning with a conquered peace soon dawn, when we can behold our flag floating over every sea, the pride of a victorious people and the envy of the world.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 159-65

Friday, December 31, 2021

Major-General Ambrose Burnside: General Orders, No. 38, April 13, 1863

GENERAL ORDERS, No. 38.
HDQRS. DEPARTMENT OF THE OHIO,        
Cincinnati, Ohio, April 13, 1863.

The commanding general publishes, for the information of all concerned, that hereafter all persons found within our lines who commit acts for the benefit of the enemies of our country will be tried as spies or traitors, and, if convicted, will suffer death. This order includes the following class of persons: Carriers of secret mails; writers of letters sent by secret mails; secret recruiting officers within the lines; persons who have entered into an agreement to pass our lines for the purpose of joining the enemy; persons found concealed within our lines belonging to the service of the enemy, and, in fact, all persons found improperly within our lines who could give private information to the enemy, and all persons within our lines who harbor, protect, conceal, feed, clothe, or in any way aid the enemies of our country. The habit of declaring sympathy for the enemy will not be allowed in this department. Persons committing such offenses will be at once arrested, with a view to being tried as above stated, or sent beyond our lines into the lines of their friends.

It must be distinctly understood that treason, expressed or implied, will not be tolerated in this department.

All officers and soldiers are strictly charged with the execution of this order.

By command of Major-General Burnside:

LEWIS RICHMOND,        
Assistant Adjutant-General

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 23, Part 2 (Serial No. 35), p. 237

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, May 10, 1863

Since our return from the Tuscumbia Valley nothing' of interest has occurred until to day; flaming bulletins are now flying everywhere exciting loud huzzas from the soldiers in and around Corinth. “Richmond fallen,” “Stoneman occupying the city,” “the stars and stripes floating over the ramparts," “Valandigham arrested, &c.” Everything seems perfectly wild to night, and loud acclamations rend the air for Hooker. Bonfires are burning in every direction. The excitement beggars discription. Cheers are heard everywhere for Hooker, Burnside and No. 38; for the arrest of Ohio's arch traitor, the seared and corrupt hearted, sycophant, C. L. Vallandigham. May he be banished and be compelled to go creeping and whining through the back grounds of an English aristocracy, there to be execrated and condemned by all liberty loving people, for the ignoble part he played upon the American stage; and when peace shall have returned to a stricken people, should this traitor leader on the northern line return among America's loyal people, may the widow and the orphan child say, there goes the traitor Vallandigham, who, when our loved and lost were being submerged by war's crimson wave, was standing upon the American Congress floor, saying that he would sooner see them die and the flag go down than vote one dollar for the prosecution of the war. Sad, sad record for one of the republic's sons!

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 167-8

Tuesday, December 28, 2021

Major-General Ulysses S. Grant to Major-General Henry W. Halleck, June 14, 1863

BEHIND VICKSBURG, MISS., June 11, 1863,        
VIA MEMPHIS, TENN., June 14.
Maj. Gen. H. W. HALLECK, General-in-Chief:

I have reliable information from the entire interior of the South. Johnston has been re-enforced by 3,000 troops from Mobile and other parts of Georgia; by [J.P.] McCown's and Breckinridge's divisions (9,000 men), and 4,000 of   Forrest's cavalry, from Bragg's army; 9,000 men from Charleston, and 2,200 from Port Hudson. Orders were sent the very day General Banks invested Port Hudson, to evacuate it. Garrison there now 8,000. Lee's army has not been reduced; Bragg's force now 46,000 infantry and artillery and 15,000 cavalry. Everything not required for daily use has been removed to Atlanta, Ga. His army can fall back to Bristol or Chattanooga at a moment's notice, which places, it is thought, he can hold, and spare 25,000 troops. Mobile and Savannah are now almost entirely without garrisons, further than men to manage large guns. No troops are left in the interior to send to any place. All further re-enforcements will have to come from one of the great armies. There are about 32,000 men west of the Mississippi, exclusive of the troops in Texas. Orders were sent them one week ago by Johnston. The purport of the order not known. Herron has arrived here, and troops from Burnside looked for to-morrow.

U.S. GRANT,        
Major-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 24, Part 1 (Serial No. 36), p. 42

Monday, June 21, 2021

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 27, 1864

Another bright and beautiful day; and vegetation is springing with great rapidity. But nearly all my potatoes, corn, egg-plants, and tomatoes seem to have been killed by the frosts of March. I am replanting corn, lima beans, etc. The other vegetables are growing well. One of my fig-bushes was killed—that is, nearly all the branches. The roots live.

It is rumored that the armies on the Rapidan were drawn up in line.

The enemy have again evacuated Suffolk.

Gen. Beauregard is at Weldon. Perhaps Burnside may hurl his blows against North Carolina.

Food is still advancing in price; and unless relief comes from some quarter soon, this city will be in a deplorable condition. A good many fish, however, are coming in, and shad have fallen in price to $12 per pair.

The government ordered the toll of meal here (which the miller, Crenshaw, sold to the people) to be taken for the army; but Col. Northrop, Commissary-General, opposes this; and it is to be hoped, as usual, he may have his way, in spite of even the President. These papers pass through the hands of the Secretary of War.

The French ships have gone down the river, without taking much tobacco; said to have been ordered away by the United States Government.

Col. W. M. Browne (the President's English A.D.C.), it is said, goes to Georgia as commandant of conscripts for that State. It is probable he offended some one of the President's family, domestic or military. The people had long been offended by his presence and arrogance.

The Enquirer, to-day, has a communication assaulting Messrs. Toombs and Stephens, and impeaching their loyalty. The writer denounced the Vice-President severely for his opposition to the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus. During the day the article was sent to Mr. Secretary Seddon, with the compliments of Mr. Parker—the author, I suppose.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 193-4

Sunday, June 20, 2021

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 30, 1864

Federal papers now admit that Gen. Banks has been disastrously beaten in Louisiana. They also admit their calamity at Plymouth, N. C. Thus in Louisiana, Florida, West Tennessee, and North Carolina the enemy have sustained severe defeats: their losses amounting to some 20,000 men, 100 guns, half a dozen war steamers, etc. etc.

Gen. Burnside has left Annapolis and gone to Grant—whatever the plan was originally; and the work of concentration goes on for a decisive clash of arms in Virginia.

And troops are coming hither from all quarters, like streamlets flowing into the ocean. Our men are confident, and eager for the fray.

The railroad companies say they can transport 10,000 bushels corn, daily, into Virginia. That will subsist 200,000 men and 25,000 horses. And in June the Piedmont connection will be completed.

The great battle may not occur for weeks yet. It will probably end the war.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 195-6

Monday, May 10, 2021

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 11, 1864

Rained all night, but clear most of the day.

There are rumors of Burnside landing troops on the Peninsula; also of preparations for movements on the Rappahannock—by which side is uncertain. It is said troops are coming from Mississippi, Lieut.-Gen. (Bishop) Polk's command.

The FAMINE is still advancing, and his gaunt proportions loom up daily, as he approaches with gigantic strides. The rich speculators, however, and the officers of influence stationed here, who have secured the favor of the Express Company, get enough to eat. Potatoes sell at $1 per quart; chickens, $35 per pair; turnip greens, $4 per peck! An ounce of meat, daily, is the allowance to each member of my family, the cat and parrot included. The pigeons of my neighbor have disappeared. Every day we have accounts of robberies, the preceding night, of cows, pigs, bacon, flour—and even the setting hens are taken from their nests!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 185

Thursday, February 18, 2021

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: November 20, 1862

WE LEAVE PLYMOUTH.

On the 8th of December the regiment embarked on the schooner Skirmisher for Newbern, arriving there on the evening of the 10th. We were right glad to once more get back to camp, where we could clean ourselves up and get a change of clothing, but were much more glad to find mail and express matter from home. We were not, however, overjoyed to find an order awaiting us to be ready early in the morning to start on a long and rapid march, but having become accustomed to adapting ourselves to circumstances, the order was soon forgotten and we were absorbed in our letters and papers, after which the contents of the boxes were attended to. There was a generous quantity of goodies from the loved ones at home, some of which are of a perishable nature; what shall we do with them? We go off in the morning, and the Lord knows when we shall come back if we ever do. There are no taps tonight, and the candles burn long and well, so we sit down and gorge ourselves until we can eat no more, putting aside what we think will keep until we get back, and crowding as much as we can that remains into our haversacks. We next attend to a change of clothing, and by morning are ready for a start. I wear my best clothes, thinking if I should happen to become a guest at the Hotel de Libby, I should like to appear respectable.

GOLDSBORO EXPEDITION.

During our stay at Plymouth, large reinforcements of troops arrived at Newbern. These troops consisted of Gen. Wessell's brigade of six regiments of New York and Pennsylvania troops, and the 8th, 43d, 45th, 46th and 51st Massachusetts regiments of nine months' troops. They were to join in an expedition under Gen. Foster, against Goldsboro and the Wilmington and Weldon railroad; the object being to destroy that road, thus preventing reinforcements reaching Gen. Lee at Fredericksburg, where Gen. Burnside was about making an assault. This part of the plan was successfully carried out, but too late to be of any use to Burnside, as he made his attack three days before we reached and destroyed the road. Although Gen. Foster started the moment his troops arrived, it was about a week too late.

The division consisted of four brigades, the 1st under command of Brig. Gen. Wessell; the 2d, Col. Amory; 3d, Col. Stevenson; 4th, Col. Lee; with the 3d New York cavalry and eleven batteries of artillery, and the wagon and ambulance train. The whole made a force of about 20,000 men, and when the procession was in line of march it covered a distance of about seven miles. Col. Heckman, with his 9th New Jersey regiment, was a kind of independent corps, he taking the contract to lead the advance and clear the way. The expedition started on the morning of Dec. 11, and about noon Col. Lee's brigade fell in on the left, the 25th being in this brigade and 18th regiment in the column. We marched this day about 12 miles, getting into camp late in the evening. This bivouac was on an extensive plain, and was covered with troops, horses, mules and wagons, and in the dim moonlight, its thousand camp fires made a grand illumination. It was not long after supper before the men were all rolled up in their blankets asleep, and on that cold December night, as I looked over that field and saw by the glare of its many camp fires, those thousands of brave, self-sacrificing men lie stretched upon the ground, I could but think that the bright spirits of the immortal band of American patriots hovered over that camp and looked down approvingly upon our efforts to sustain that government and these institutions for which they had sacrificed and suffered so much to establish.

On the morning of the 12th the march was resumed, but was necessarily slow as the roads were badly obstructed. In one swamp, for a distance of three miles, the trees were thickly felled across the road, making a forenoon's job for Capt. Wilson and his pioneer corps to clear away. They had no sooner finished this job when another presented itself in building a bridge across a creek, which took nearly all the afternoon. The 25th crossed this bridge about dark, and a little farther on saw lights ahead. We now thought we were nearing camp and we began to cheer up, thinking our day's work nearly over, but on coming to the camp fires, we found only the 51st Massachusetts, Cul. Sprague, and a battery left here at the junction of the main road leading to Kinston, with orders to hold it until noon the next day, while the column moved up the old or back road towards Southwest creek. Finding this was not our hotel we took fresh courage and pushed on. A few miles farther brought us into camp.

It was a cold night, and being nearly the last in we found the rails and wood had all been appropriated; we must either go without fires or go half a mile for fuel. We went for it, and after a hard scramble succeeded in getting a partial supply, enough however, with prudence, to go through the night and make our morning's coffee. Our march this day was only about ten miles.

Next morning we took an early start. A mile or two up the road, another road branched to the right, leading to Kinston. Here the 16th Massachusetts, Col. Shurtliff, with a battery were left to hold it. About the middle of the forenoon firing was heard in the advance; Col. Heckman had got a job. He found the enemy in considerable force at Southwest creek, and with his own and one or two other regiments succeeded in driving them out, capturing one gun. This Southwest creek, like all other battle grounds the enemy selects, is a swamp about half a mile wide, with a small creek running through it. We halted early in the afternoon, to let the teams, which were stuck all along the road, come up:

We were now about five miles from Kinston. The infantry bivouacked on the left side of the road, on which was a growth of small pines, making a nice, clean camp-ground. The batteries and teams, as fast as they came up, were parked in the open field on the right. The cavalry, which we had not seen for two days, were playing a lone hand, and were scouting around over the country, making tents and bothering the enemy. Under the pines we make soft beds, and at dark kindle the fires, make coffee, eat our suppers and go to bed, expecting in the morning our further progress up the country will be vigorously disputed.

All was quiet during the night, and early in the morning of Sunday, the 14th, the camp was astir. The general ordered that in order to lighten the teams, every man take three days' rations and 60 rounds of extra ammunition. While this was being dealt out, some one suggested that the teams could be still further lightened by issuing a ration of whiskey. Acting on that suggestion, the liquor was ordered, and there was far less complaint about taking it than there was in taking the extra ammunition. Breakfast over, the chaplain offered prayer, after which a hymn was sung; we then filed into the road and commenced the march. The advance was well up the road, and we began to hear firing ahead. As we drew nearer it became more distinct and there was more of it. Wessell's and Amory's brigades were hotly engaged, and the roar of artillery gave notice that the batteries were not silent spectators.

We hurried on and soon met the stretcher corps bringing out the dead and wounded men. This to me was a sickening sight, to see men with pallid faces, writhing with pain and blood dripping from the stretchers. I know not how it is with others, but there is nothing that so completely takes the pith out of me when going into action as this. I want to get engaged before seeing the dead or wounded; after that I do not mind so much about it.

The enemy, under command of Gen. Evans, was in strong force and posted on the south side of the river near Kinston, commanding the road that led through a thick, wet swamp some half a mile wide. This swamp prevented our batteries from working with much accuracy, consequently the fight became an infantry one. Wessell's and Amory's brigades pushed into the swamp and engaged them in front, while the other regiments as they came up were posted on the right, to prevent a flank movement, or to make one ourselves if necessary. The 25th, with Morrison's battery, were drawn up in line of battle on an open field near the river, to the left of the swamp. As the battle was confined to the swamp in front, we were not under fire at all. The battle lasted about three hours, when our troops got through the swamp and charged on them. The 9th New Jersey led the charge, followed by Wessell's and Stevenson's brigades. They charged them across the river and through the town, capturing eleven pieces of artillery and 300 prisoners. After which they shelled them, driving them up the country, out of sight and hearing. In this battle the enemy numbered about 8000, with several batteries of artillery. We had no means of knowing their loss, but it must have been considerable; they got off most of their wounded and probably some of their dead.

When Lee's brigade got on the battle-ground, it was halted, and burying parties were detailed to bury the enemy's dead which here covered the ground. This ground was hard and considerably higher than the swamp; in the midst of a pretty grove of trees stood an old church. The boys did not take very kindly to this burying business, as they were in a hurry to get into town and secure their share of the spoils, but the job hard to be done, and they went about it with a will. They dug trenches a little more than two feet deep, and in these the dead were placed, with the capes of their overcoats wound around their heads; over those not having overcoats, pine boughs were thrown and all were covered over with earth. Our loss in this battle was about 200, some 50 of whom were killed, the t5th Massachusetts sharing largely in the loss. About dark we marched into a field a short distance south of the town, where we were to bivouac. Now commenced the destruction of fences and old buildings for fires, and after supper parties went up town to look over the prize, and late in the evening began to return bringing in their plunder. One party had been very successful; they came in hauling an express wagon loaded with' tobacco, cigars, apple-jack, scuppernong wine, pigs, etc. Of course a dividend was struck, and all that wanted, had a share in the tobacco and cigars, with a drink or two of the wine and apple-jack. This was a pretty good Sunday's job.

Next morning, the 15th, the division was again on the move, destroying the road and railroad bridges over the Neuse river as left. We marched up the river road about 18 miles, getting into camp late in the evening, having met with no obstacles during the day. Here again was a scramble for rails and wood for fires; all the rails near by were gone, and we had to tote ours about a quarter of a mile. The fires kindled, making coffee was in order; after a twenty mile tramp and toting rails for fires, as they stood around them, roasting one side and freezing the other, the boys are not feeling very viable. If there is any one thing more than another that will draw the cuss-words out of them, it is when a dozen cups of coffee are sitting along a burning rail boiling, and some careless fellow comes along, hits the end of the rail, dumping it all over. It is not the loss of the coffee they care so much about, but it is going perhaps half a mile for water to make more. It is of no sort of use to send a darky for it in the night, as he would not find his way back before morning.

On the morning of the 16th it was reported the enemy were in force across the river at a place called Whitehall, about three or four miles from where we were, and where they were building a steam ram. Of course that must be attended to, and when we left our bivouac, the ball had opened and heavy firing was heard ahead. Lee's brigade hurried on and an hour's march brought us to the scene of conflict. A road turned to the right, leading down to the river, where our batteries were at work. The 25th was ordered down this road, but when about half way down, and only a short distance in rear of the batteries, were ordered to halt and wait further orders. An artillery duel was being fought, our batteries on the south side of the river and the enemy's on the north, with the bridge up that here crossed the river. We hail ten batteries engaged, and the enemy had what we had not captured at Kinston. The roar of artillery, screaming shot and bursting shell was fearful. The enemy had sharpshooters along the river bank, who were rather troublesome to our artillerists, and to meet them men were called for from our regiments; Major Pickett was called on for 100. He asked for volunteers and more than half the regiment stepped forward for the service. I didn't volunteer; I never do; I rather pride myself on not committing a great amount of foolishness in this business. The 100 were soon off for the river, where they took available positions and did good service. In this engagement they had one killed and three wounded. After nearly three hours the fire began to slacken and the enemy drew off. The steam ram on the river, which was said to be quite a formidable craft, was then blown up and destroyed. It will be rather discouraging to attempt the building of any more rams at this navy-yard. The army then moved up the road, getting into camp, about night, and some seven or eight miles from Goldsboro. Early in the morning of the 17th, Lee's brigade took the advance, and after a march of five or six miles, the scouts reported the enemy in the woods near the railroad and bridge which crosses the river about two miles below Goldsboro. We were now in their immediate neighborhood. The column was halted, a regiment sent out as skirmishers and a battery advanced and took position on a knoll of ground, a little to the left and front of the column, and commenced shelling the woods. This had the effect of stirring them up, so we knew where they were. The infantry and batteries were ordered forward, and marched into position in front of the enemy, covering the railroad and bridge. After some skirmishing, at about 10 a. m., the battle commenced and continued with short intermissions until the middle of the afternoon, at which time we had silenced the enemy's guns and driven them from the field. We burned the railroad bridge, and with the help of the cavalry tore up and burned ten or twelve miles of track and tressel work of the Wilmington and Weldon railroad. Gen. Foster then said the object had been accomplisherl, and ordereil a retreat, Lee's brigade being ordered to cover it. It was near sunset when we left the field, Morrison's New York and Belger's Rhode Island batteries alone remaining on a knoll of ground which they had occupied during the battle, waiting for us to get away, when they would follow. After leaving the field, we crossed the bed of a small creek about 20 feet wide, with scarcely any water, but with steep banks, except at the ford, where they slopeit down to admit crossing.

Crossing this creek, we halted at a farm house a little way off to load our dead and wounded men into ambulances. While doing it a battery officer dashed up exclaiming, “For God's sake, send us an old regiment! The enemy are charging our batteries! Quick! hurry up!” The 27th and 25th Massachusetts were on the left or rear of the column, and immediately faced about and started on the double quick for the batteries. In the meantime, while our troops were leaving the field, the enemy had been reinforced, and, seeing the batteries alone, and perhaps thinking they might be out of ammunition, thought it would be a nice little trick to capture them. In going to the relief of the batteries we had to run a gauntlet of shot and shell from a six-pounder battery out in the woods, a little to the left and front of our batteries, who were supporting their charging brigade. We went to Belger's support, and the 27th to Morrisson's. In the meantime the batteries had opened fire on the charging columns but without checking them. When we came up they were coming across the railroad; but another discharge from the guns, and seeing their support, the enemy thought they had taken too much of a job, and facing about they put for the woods.

That little battery out in the woods was wonderfully active, shying their shot and shell thick and fast. Fortunately their guns had a high elevation, and the shot went several feet above our heads. They soon, corrected that, however, and the shot began to come lower. Capt. Belger ordered us to lie down, I am always quick to hear that order, and was the first man down. They had now got their range well down, the shot just skimming over us, one shell had burst in front of us, killing one man and wounding two others. They had a splendid range on me as I lay in the rear of my company. About once a minute a shot would come directly over me, striking the ground only a few feet in the and what made it more provoking, they kept getting them lower, until I had flatted out as thin as a sheet of tissue paper. I could stand this no longer, and told the boys in front of me that those shot were coming dangerously close, and they had better make a break by crowding a little to the right and left. I pushed along about ten feet to the left and would liked to have pushed about ten miles to the rear. That movement was barely executed when a shot ploughed a furrow through the space they had made. But that was their last shot, for after the charging column had turned, the guns were turned on that battery, and annihilated it at the first discharge, or at least, I supposed that was the case, as we heard nothing more from it. It was now after sunset and peace once more reigned in Warsaw.

We waited awhile to see if they wanted anything more of us, and finding they did not, we again drew off the field. On coming to the little creek, which we had crossed dry shod an hour before, we now found a roaring torrent running bankfull, with barrels, rails and pieces of timber borne on the surface of its swift current. We had got to go through' it, and the boys, holding their rifles, cartridge boxes and blankets above their heads, waded in. The water was waist deep, and when my company went in I waited on the bank, thinking I would step into the rear as they passed by, but I made a wrong calculation of the bank. When I stepped in, I went in all over, and in trying to recover myself, I let go my cartridge box, blanket and Spitfire, but caught the last between my knees, and commenced ducking to get it. The major was standing on the bank, cautioning the boys to keep their powder dry. When he happened to observe me going through my aquatic performances he yelled vociferously: "What in hell are you doing there? Why don't you keep your powder up out of the water?” I paid no attention to him, but kept reaching for Spitfire, and every time I reached for it, the current would nearly take me off my feet. After I had succeeded in fishing it out, I turned my attention to the major, and answered his little conundrum by asking him what in hell powder was good for without Spitfire? The major laughed and jumping on a gun carriage was ferried across. I was a little the worst off of the lot for I was thoroughly soaked, as were also all my belongings.

The night was freezing cold and in our wet clothes we felt it very sensibly.

A mile march brought us to the woods, which were some four or five miles through, and on the other side was our last night's bivouac. The advance troops had set the woods on fire and when we went through, it was a roaring mass of flame.

This served us a good turn, as it lighted up the road and kept us warm.

We reached our bivouac late in the evening, wet, cold, tired and hungry, but our day's work was not yet done. If we wanted fires and hot coffee, we must go half a mile for rails and tote them in on our shoulders. We brought in a good supply and soon had our coffee boiling. Our wagons were bare of meat and whiskey, and our supper consisted of coffee and hardtack.

Through the long, weary night, wet, cold and hungry, we stood shivering over the fires. Gladly we hailed the first grey streaks of dawn and took fresh courage, knowing we should soon be on the road for home. At sunrise the whole army was in motion, on the road for Newbern, where we arrived a little after noon on Sunday, the 21st, nearly dying from hunger and exhaustion.

When we started on this expedition it was thought the wagons contained an ample supply of rations, but our march country was so imported by blocked roads and so vigorously contested that it was prolonged beyond what was anticipated; besides it was an awful poor section of country for pigs, chickens and apple-jack. On this little excursion, Gen. Foster's army has been out ten days, marching 150 miles, cutting out several miles of blockade roads, building one bridge, doing considerable skirmishing, whipping the enemy three times on their own ground, besides other mischief, such as burning the railroad bridge at Goldsboro, burning a train of cars and smashing up an engine at Mount Olive station, some ten miles down the road from the battle ground, and also tearing up the track between the two points. This last deviltry the 3d New York cavalry is accountable for. There was also burned a quantity of cotton, several houses, barns and many thousands of dollars' worth of fencing and timber. A very clever little job for one trip, but the results would have been greater had it been done two weeks sooner; it would then have greatly hindered the reinforcing of Gen. Lee at Fredericksburg. However, there can no blame be laid to Gen. Foster, as he started on the execution of his orders as soon as the troops arrived.

MAJOR PICKETT.

Our little major since the two last tramps has become very popular in his regiment, and I expect when the eagles light on his shoulders we shall feel pretty proud of him. He is a staving good fellow, and in a fight is always on the lead, inspiring the men with cowage by his coolness and daring. On the road he is equally good, letting the boys have it pretty much their own way, never troubling himself about how they came by their chickens and apple-jack, and is often seen trudging along on foot, letting some sick or footsore soldier ride his giraffe.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 77-84

Wednesday, October 7, 2020

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: May 1, 1862

FORT MACON. 

Martial law not being a very favorable institution for pleasure parties, I presume the usual May day festival is dispensed with here as I have not seen any parties out or demonstrations of any kind going on. I should think a May party here might be very successful as the woods abound with wild flowers in great variety and beauty. 

Fort Macon surrendered to Gen. Burnside last Friday evening, after a bombardment of eleven hours. The general succeeded in getting his siege guns in battery behind some sand ridges about half a mile in rear of the fort, unobserved by the garrison, and the first notice they had of his presence was a shot from one of the guns. After holding out for eleven hours and seeing they could make no defense and that there was no chance for escape, they hauled down their colors. By this surrender, 65 guns and 450 prisoners, with stores and ammunition, have fallen into our hands. Their loss was eight killed and twenty wounded. Our loss was one killed and five wounded. 

A good story is told in connection with the surrender of this fort to the Confederates. After the war broke out and they were seizing the forts, a strong force of Confederates, with a great flourish of trumpets, presented themselves one morning at the sallyport of the fort, demanding its immediate and unconditional surrender. Now it happened that the only occupants of the fort were an old ordnance sergeant and his wife who had been in charge of the property for many years. The old sergeant came to the gate, and looking over the crowd, said to the officer in command that under the circumstances he thought the garrison might as well surrender, but he would like the privilege of taking the old flag and marching out with the honors of war. To this the officer assented and the old sergeant hauled down the flag and winding it around him, he and his wife marched out, greatly to the surprise of the officer, who found that they two comprised the whole garrison. 

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 55

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: May 11, 1862

MR. BOGEY. 

This place is what is called a turpentine plantation, where they get the pitch from which turpentine is distilled. The owner, Mr. Bogey, a harmless, inoffensive old gentleman, claims to be a Union man, and I reckon he is, because he does not run away or seem to be afraid of us. He tells me he owns 2000 acres of land, nearly all turpentine forest, and has 10,000 trees running pitch. He said the war had ruined him and thinks it has the whole south. He said the rebels had taken all but one of his horses and about everything else he had that they wanted. His niggers had all left him and gone down town. He expected that when we came, but cared very little about it, as he had only a few and they were about as much trouble and expense to him as they were worth. He said he was getting old, his business was all broke up and by the time the war was over and things settled he would be too old for anything. I asked him if all those pigs running about in the woods were his. He reckoned they were. I inquired if he knew how many he had. He couldn’t tell exactly, but reckoned there was right smart. The thought occurred to me that if that was as near as he could tell, if a few of them were gobbled they would never be missed, provided the squeal could be shut off quick enough. I learn that Gen. Burnside has given Mr. Bogey a protection, whatever that is. That perhaps may do well enough for him, but I should not want to warrant it a sure thing for all these pigs and sheep running about here. 

CAMP BULLOCK. 

Our camp is named Camp Bullock, in honor of Alex. H. Bullock of Worcester, Mass. Today the boys are busy writing letters home, and it troubles them to tell where to date their letters from. They invent all sorts of names; some of them with a romantic turn of mind, date from Camp Rural, Woodlawn, Forestdale, Riverdale, etc., but Mason, with a more practical turn of mind, dates his from Hell Centre. The boys who were out in the woods last night say it is great fun, although they were not disturbed; there is just enough excitement and mosquitoes to keep them from getting drowsy. 

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 56-7

Wednesday, September 23, 2020

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: March 21, 1862

I AM INTERVIEWED.

Passing along Pollock, above Middle street, today, I was accosted by a man who was sitting on the veranda of his house and invited to come in, as he wished a talk with me. Noticing that he was a smart-looking, well-dressed, gentlemanly appearing man, and withal an M. D., according to his sign, I was nothing loth to gratify his whim. As I stepped up on the veranda, he invited me to be seated. After a little commonplace talk, he began to inquire about our troops, their number and where they were from. I told him only a few of our troops had landed, that the river and sound were black with them in case they should be needed, and nearly all of them were from New England. He said our capture of the city was wholly unexpected, and at the last moment nearly all the better class of citizens left, leaving their houses and property as we found them. He said in that he thought they had made a great mistake, as he regarded Gen. Burnside as an honorable, high-toned gentleman, who would have dealt fairly with them, if they had remained and taken their chances, and would have allowed them to go whenever they wished. I replied I didn't know how that would have been, but I thought they had made another mistake in burning the railroad bridge and trying to burn the town. In doing as they have, they have shown that they had no regard for their property and they certainly cannot expect us to have much for it, although we have shown some in putting out the fires and saving it.

“Yes, I know,” he said, “but perhaps they thought they would show your people that they were willing to sacrifice their property and make a Moscow of it rather than let it fall into your hands.” “Well, sir,” said I, “in that they made another mistake, for if they had succeeded in burning it, it would have been no Moscow; we should have staid here just the same. Unlike Napoleon, we do not need the town; we care nothing for it; it is the position we want.”

“But you seem to occupy it?”

“Certainly we do, there is no one else to occupy it, and we may as well use it as not.”

“Do you propose to have us vacate our premises for your use?”

“Really, sir, I am not in the secrets of the general, but I presume that you and all others will be protected in your persons and property, so long as you remain loyal and show no opposition to the government.”

“Yes, sir, I supposed it would be something that way. What do you propose doing with that cotton down on the wharf.”

“That cotton belonged to the Confederate government, or at least they were using it against the Federal government, and like other government property it becomes the spoils of war, and some fine morning you will see it going down the river bound for some northern manufacturing city. After a few weeks it will be back here again in the form of tents for the use of the army.”

“Then you intend making this a permanent garrison?”

“We intend to hold this position just as long as it is of any use to us.”

“How long do you think this war will continue?”

“As things look now, I don't think it can possibly hold more than a year longer, if it does so long.”

“Then you think in that time you can subjugate our people?”

“Well, sir, my opinion is that in less than eighteen months, every armed Confederate, unless he sooner surrenders, will be driven into the Gulf of Mexico.”

“You seem to be very sanguine in your opinion, sir; but then we all have our opinions, and I think after a year you will find you have made but little progress. I would like to ask for how long you have enlisted?”

“I have enlisted for three years, unless the job is sooner finished.”

“Well, sir, if nothing serious happens to you (which I really. hope there will not), you will serve your three years, and then, unless your people give it up, you can again enlist, for I can assure you that our people will never give it up.”

“You think then, that with all the odds against you, you will finally succeed?”

“I certainly do; you see you Yankees are going to tire of this thing after a spell; you are not used to roughing it, and will soon weary of the hardships and privations of a soldier's life. You Yankees had much rather be spinning cotton, making shoes, trading, speculating and trying to make money, than following the occupation of a soldier.”

“For a choice, there are probably very few of us who would select the occupation of a soldier, but you mistake the Yankee character entirely, if you think, having undertaken anything, they tire of it very easily. That was not the class of men they sprung from. They were an enterprising, untiring class of men; if they had not been, they would never have settled down among the rocks and hills of bleak New England and made of it the richest, most intelligent and powerful little piece of territory the sun shines on. But, my friend, as all things earthly have an end, this will probably prove no exception, and in the end, your people will find that they have got the least value received for the money paid out of any speculation they ever engaged in, and will still find themselves a part and parcel of the United States, subject to all the rules and conditions of the government, in common with the rest of the states.”

After some further talk about state rights and state sovereignty, in which we could not agree, he invited me into his house. Here, like a true Southern gentleman, he entertained and extended hospitalities right royally, and I think we must have sampled his best bottle. He told me it was six years old, and from a silver goblet, I sipped the best native wine I ever tasted; it was rich, mellow and fruity. He said it was made from a choice variety of grape called the Scupperuong. It was really a splendid native wine, as so it appeared to me. After some more small talk, I bade my new found friend good day, and took my leave.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 49-51

Sunday, August 23, 2020

Lieutenant-General Ulysses S. Grant to Major-General George G. Meade, April 9, 1864

CULPEPER COURT-HOUSE, VA.,                       
April 9, 1864.
Maj. Gen. G. G. MEADE,
Commanding Army of the Potomac:

For information, and as instructions to govern your preparations for the coming campaign, the following is communicated confidentially, for your own perusal alone:

So far as practicable, all the armies are to move together and toward one common center. Banks has been instructed to turn over the guarding of the Red River to General Steele and to the navy, to abandon Texas with the exception of the Rio Grande, and to concentrate all the force he can—not less than 25,000 men—to move on Mobile. This he is to do without reference to any other movements. From the scattered condition of his command, however, he cannot possibly get it together to leave New Orleans before the 1st of May, if so soon.

Sherman will move at the same time you do, or two or three days in advance, Joe Johnston's army being his objective point and the heart of Georgia his ultimate aim. If successful, he will secure the line from Chattanooga to Mobile, with the aid of Banks.

Sigel cannot spare troops from his army to re-enforce either of the great armies, but he can aid them by moving directly to his front. This he has been directed to do, and is now making preparations for it. Two columns of his command will move south at the same time with the general move, one from Beverly, from 10,000 to 12,000 strong, under Major-General Ord; the other from Charleston, W. Va., principally cavalry, under Brigadier-General Crook. The former of these will endeavor to reach the Tennessee and Virginia Railroad about south of Covington, and if found practicable will work eastward to Lynchburg and return to its base by way of the Shenandoah Valley or join you. The other will strike at Saltville, Va., and come eastward to join Ord. The cavalry from Ord's command will try to force a passage southward; if they are successful in reaching the Virginia and Tennessee Railroad, to cut the main lines of the road connecting Richmond with all the South and Southwest.

Gillmore will join Butler with about 10,000 men from South Carolina. Butler can reduce his garrison so as to take 23,000 men into the field directly to his front. The force will be commanded by Maj. Gen. W. F. Smith. With Smith and Gillmore, Butler will seize City Point and operate against Richmond from the south side of the river. His movement will be simultaneous with yours.

Lee's army will be your objective point. Wherever Lee goes, there you will go also. The only point upon which I am now in doubt is whether it will be better to cross the Rapidan above or below him. Each plan presents great advantages over the other, with corresponding objections. By crossing above, Lee is cut off from all chance of ignoring Richmond and going north on a raid: but if we take this route all we do must be done while the rations we start with hold out; we separate from Butler, so that he cannot be directed how to co-operate. By the other route, Brandy Station can be used as a base of supplies until another is secured on the York or James River. These advantages and objections I will talk over with you more fully than I can write them.

Burnside, with a force of probably 25,000 men, will re-enforce you. Immediately upon his arrival, which will be shortly after the 20th instant, I will give him the defense of the road from Bull Run as far south as we wish to hold it. This will enable you to collect all your strength about Brandy Station and to the front.

There will be naval co-operations on the James River, and transports and ferries will be provided, so that should Lee fall back into his intrenchments at Richmond Butler's force and yours will be a unit, or at least can be made to act as such.

What I would direct, then, is that you commence at once reducing baggage to the very lowest possible standard. Two wagons to a regiment of 500 men is the greatest number that should be allowed for all baggage, exclusive of subsistence stores and ordnance stores. One wagon to brigade and one to division headquarters is sufficient, and about two to corps headquarters.

Should by Lee's right flank be our route, you will want to make arrangements for having supplies of all sorts promptly forwarded to White House, on the Pamunkey. Your estimates for this contingency should be made at once. If not wanted there, there is every probability they will be wanted on the James River or elsewhere.

If Lee's left is turned, large provision will have to be made for ordnance stores. I would say not much short of 500 rounds of infantry ammunition would do. By the other, half the amount would be sufficient.

U. S. GRANT,                       
Lieutenant-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 33 (Serial No. 60), p. 827-9

Wednesday, August 19, 2020

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: March 13, 1862

THE LANDING AND MARCH.

The morning of the 13th was dark and rainy, and we made preparations to land. It always rains where we go; first at Hatteras, then at Roanoke and now here. I think we are rightly named a water division.

We landed in a mudhole, at the mouth of Slocum’s creek. Before noon the troops were all landed, and the march commenced. The 25th taking the advance, we marched up the river bank about a mile, the gun-boats shelling the woods in advance of us. We then struck into the woods, which presented a novel appearance. There was no undergrowth, but a short grass covered the ground, while masses of long gray moss hung in festoons from the branches of the trees, giving them a weird and sombre appearance. We soon came out to a cart road, or horse path, along which we followed for about a couple of miles, when we came to a deserted cavalry camp. I reckon when they heard the sounds of revelry on the river, there was mountings in hot haste, and they sped away to some safer locality. The clouds now broke and the sun shone out hot, which, together with the mud, made the march a toilsome one. A little further on, we came to the carriage road. Here Foster's brigade halted, to let Reno's and Parke's brigades move past us.

As Parke's brigade marched past us, we saw at the right of one of the companies in the 5th Rhode Island regiment, marching by the side of the orderly, a lady, dressed in a natty suit, with high boots and jockey hat, surmounted by a big ostrich feather. She was the observed of our whole brigade, and cheer after cheer went up along the line for the pretty woman. Continuing our march a little farther we reached some extensive earthworks, which were abandoned, but for what reason we of course were ignorant. But we reasoned that if they build works like these and then make no effort to hold them, it shows they are weak and have no confidence in their ability to successfully contend against us, and Newbern will fall an easy prey. The deep mud in the road, together with the heat, began to tell on the boys, and many of them were obliged to fall out by the way. Our march began to grow slower, and when about dusk, it commenced raining again, we turned into the woods at the right of the road, where we were to bivouac for the night. Scouting parties and pickets were sent out in order to give notice if anything unusual was about to transpire during the night. Here in the soft mud of the swamp, with the rain pouring down on us, was our hotel. Mrs. Hemans, in her song of the Pilgrims, said,

“Amidst the storm they sang.”

But there was no song in that swamp; too tired for supper the boys laid themselves down in the mud to sleep, and bitterly thought of the morrow. Stokes and I roomed together between a couple of logs. Taking our rifles and powder between us and covering ourselves closely in the blankets, we were soon fast asleep. But he kept the advantage of me all night, for he is a great fellow to pull blankets, and he came out in the morning all right and dry, while I had been catching the rain. The boys slept well, but woke up cold and wet. There was no time to make a cup of coffee, for we were close on the enemy, and the order was again to the battle. We caught a few hasty mouthfuls of cold meat and hardtack, and quietly fell into our places in line.

THE BATTLE.

We fellows who do the shooting are not counted as any great shakes ordinarily, but yesterday morning we seemed to be regarded as of very great importance, and it took a great amount of swearing and hurrying to and fro of aids and hoarse shoutings of officers to get us around where we were wanted. We were within a half mile of the enemy's line, and Reno's and Parke's brigades were deploying in front of them, on the centre and left of our line. Foster's brigade was to take the right, and the 25th led off up the road, followed by the 24th Massachusetts and the other regiments of the brigade. We soon came in sight of the enemy's works, which were only a short rifle-shot from us. Reno's and Parke's brigades had already opened the ball along the center and left. We filed out of the road to the right, moving towards the river. As we moved out we were honored with a salute from one of the enemy's batteries, but the shots passed harmlessly over our heads. The boys looked a little wild, but with steady step moved on until the 25th and 24th Massachusetts were in line on the right of the road; the 27th and 23d Massachusetts and the 10th Connecticut regiments were on the left.

Foster's brigade was now in line of battle and moving forward towards the edge of the woods next to the clearing. The howitzer battery now came up, took position in the road, between the 24th and 27th Massachusetts, and commenced firing. With the exception of the 25th, Foster's brigade then opened fire. We were on the extreme right and well towards the river, seeing nothing in front of us to draw our fire. The 24th Massachusetts kept up a scattering fire that kept the enemy well down behind their works.

We were ordered, if possible, to turn the enemy’s left. We advanced nearly to the edge of the woods, and only a short distance from the enemy's line. I was running my eye along it to see where and how it ended, expecting every moment to hear the order to charge, but just then the boats commenced throwing shell over us, towards the Confederate line. They had got a low range and their shells were coming dangerously near, splintering and cutting off the trees, and ploughing great furrows in the ground directly in front of us. In this condition of affairs we Were compelled to fall back. The boats, however, were soon notified of their mistake and ceased firing. We again advanced, going over and beyond from where we fell back, when all at once we received a galling flank fire from an unseen battery. We again fell back a few rods, dressing the line and again cautiously advanced. We now discovered that their works curved and connected with a large water battery, situated just in the edge of the woods and concealed by the trees. In the rear of this battery were mounted old 32-pounder marine guns, which gave them an enfilading fire of the clearing in front of their works. From these guns they fired grape shot, which weighed about four pounds each. To charge was hopeless, and in falling back we received another fire from this battery. From these we lost quite a number of men, killed and wounded. I had the honor of stopping one ball myself; it struck a tree, however, before it did me. Having got back from under the guns of this battery, Col. Upton reported the situation to Gen. Foster, who ordered him to move his regiment to the left of the 24th Massachusetts and support the howitzer battery. During all this time, however, the battle was raging furiously along the centre and left. While we were bothering around on the right, a little incident occurred, which perhaps is worthy of mention. Lieut. Draper of my company (B), but now attached to the signal corps, reported to Capt. Clark for duty. He said there was nothing more for the signal corps to do and he would like to take his place in the line. The captain told him he could do as he liked; he thereupon joined his company, and did duty with it the rest of the day. Although a young man of only 20 years of age, he has got the stuff in him of which soldiers are made. In front of our battery the enemy had a large gun which commanded the road, and which proved rather troublesome. This gun after each discharge was hauled around, and again back into position, by a pair of mules. After each discharge a young dare-devil of a marine lieutenant would run down the road almost to the gun, to see what they were up to. On one of these excursions he discovered one of the mules down, probably from a stray shot. He came running back up the road like a wild man, swinging his cap, and shouting at the top of his voice: “Come on, come on 1 for God's sake, come on. Now is your time!” The 25th, without any other order, sprang forward, followed by the 24th Massachusetts and all the line. On the charge they received a heavy fire from the enfilading battery, but on they went, scaling the ditch and parapet like blackbirds, but no enemy was there. Seeing us coming, they took that as a notice to leave, and acted on it immediately. Inside the works, I heard Gen. Burnside ask Gen. Foster who gave the order to charge. Foster replied he didn't know, but it made no difference so long as it was done. The 25th reformed, and, marching a short distance to the rear, charged across the railroad, into the swamp, capturing Col. Avery and his South Carolina regiment, who were covering the retreat. Thus, after five hours' hard fighting, ended the battle of Newbern. Victory had again perched upon our banners, and the cheers of the victors were ringing out on every side. Although the battle resulted as I wished, I certainly did not feel like glorying for who can compute the woe, anguish and sorrow of this day's work? I cannot get over my horror of a battle,

“Where the death angel flaps his broad wing o'er the field,
And human souls go out in agony.”

OUR ENTRANCE INTo NEwBERN.

Foster's brigade starts up the railroad for town, leaving Reno's and Parke's, brigades to take care of the field. Cautiously we moved along, thinking, perhaps, the enemy may have formed a second line and are awaiting our approach. It soon became apparent, however, that they were making the distance between them and us as long as possible. We then hurried along, arriving at the river where the railroad bridge was burned which crossed into town. The view from here was an appalling one. The railroad bridge, a fine structure upwards of 1500 feet in length, was in ruins and the town was on fire in several places. Dense clouds of smoke of inky blackness settled like a pall over the town, while every few moments the lurid flames, with their forked tongues, would leap above the clouds, and the bellowing of the gunboats on the river, throwing their large shells over the town after the retreating enemy, conspired to make a most hideous scene.

It was near the middle of the afternoon when the old ferry boat Curlew (which a few weeks before I had wished sunk) arrived. On board this, Major McCafferty, with a mixed company of about 100 men, with the colors, crossed the river and landed on the wharf at the foot of Craven street. These were the first troops and colors in the city. After landing we marched up Craven nearly to Pollock street, when we halted. The major did not appear to have any business on hand or instructions to make any, so we waited for further orders or for the regiment to join us.

Here was presented an indescribable scene. A town on fire, an invading army entering its gates, the terror-stricken inhabitants fleeing in every direction. The negroes were holding a grand jubilee, some of them praying and in their rude way thanking God for their deliverance; others, in their wild delight, were dancing and singing, while others, with an eye to the main chance, were pillaging the stores and dwellings. But in the midst of all this appalling tumult and confusion, the boys, true to the natural instincts of the soldier, were looking around to see what could be found in the line of trophies and fresh rations. They soon began to come in with their plunder, which the major told them to carry back, as he should allow no pillaging while he was in command. Presently Stokes comes along bringing a little package. The major asked, “What have you there?” “Sausages, sir!” “Go, carry them back where you got them from.” “I reckon not,” replied Stokes, “a lady out here gave them to me.” The major was incredulous, but Stokes offered to show him the lady and let her tell it, whereupon the former subsides, and Stokes, with a roguish twinkle of his eye, jams the package into my haversack, saying, “Sausage for breakfast.” I was proud of the boy, to see how well he was observing instructions, as I have told him from the start that to stand any sort of a chance as a soldier, he must learn to do a right smart job of stealing, and be able to lie the hair right off a man's head. He has certainly shown some smallness, and I doubt if a commissioned officer could have done any better. The regiment landed at the north side of the city, and about night rejoined us. Our hard day's work was at last finished, the regiment was dismissed and the companies quartered in any unoccupied buildings they might find. Generals Burnside and Foster, with soldiers, citizens and negroes, were putting out the fires and bringing order out of confusion. Company B was quartered in a small house on Craven street, and the boys, although hungry, tired and worn down by the fatigues of the day, made frolic of the evening and celebrated their victory.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 42-6