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

Thursday, July 30, 2020

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: February 25, 1862

HUNTING FOR RELICS.

 This being a warm, sunny day, a small party of us thought we would take a stroll up to the head of the island, a mile or two, and perhaps we might find some traces or relics of Raleigh's expedition. Arriving at our destination, we discovered a large, weather-beaten two-storied house, built at some remote period, and surrounded by large live oak trees. We had not the slightest doubt but that this was the house built by Lane and his party. Seeing a man standing outside, whom we supposed was the gentlemanly proprietor of the ranche, we approached, and saluting him very respectfully, inquired if he was in receipt of any recent advices from Raleigh's expedition. He looked at us in utter astonishment and said he knew nothing about it and reckoned there had been “no sich expedition yere.” He said, “Burnside's expedition was yere,” and “reckoned that was about enough;” he couldn't see the use of any more coming. We bade the gentleman good day and left. In looking around for relics, Whipple picked up an old shoe heel. Here was a prize surely, a veritable relic of Raleigh's party. Whipple put it in his pocket, intending, as he said, to send it to the antiquarian society at Worcester, and indulging in the hope that for presenting such a priceless relic, they would at least vote him an honorary member of the society. Relics being scarce, we went up to the shore where we could look up the Albemarle. The wind was blowing gently down the sound, and the little rollers were breaking on the beach at our feet. It was pretty warm; the water looked clear and really refreshing. Some one proposed taking a dip. No sooner said than off came our clothes and in we plunged. Egad! such a scrambling and floundering to get out is seldom seen. It reminded me of a basket of lobsters turned into a tub of scalding water. The water was ice cold, and I thought I should certainly freeze before getting out. After getting on my clothes and getting warm, I certainly felt better for my bath. It was agreed by all hands that February was the wrong season of the year for out-door bathing. Whipple is despondent, his hopes are dashed. He came to me and informed me that he had carefully inspected the shoe heel, and found it put together with cut nails, which are a much more recent invention than Raleigh's expedition.

 SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 40

Saturday, July 4, 2020

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: January 28, 1862

A STRANGER.

Work is still going on, getting the boats off and getting them across the bar. The Eastern Queen is afloat and will be with us today. The little steamer Pilot Boy, with Generals Burnside and Foster aboard, is flying around among the vessels of the fleet, giving orders to the boat commanders and commanders of troops. The sutler came aboard today; he is quite a stranger and the boys gathered around him, asking him a thousand questions. He brought with him a small stock of fruit and other notions which went off like hot cakes at any price which he chose to ask. Some of the boys thought the prices pretty high, but they should consider that it is with great difficulty and expense that things are got here at all. They have the advantage, however, in not being obliged to buy, if they think the charges too much. The Eastern Queen is coming across the swash, the bands are all playing and cheers are going out from all the fleet.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 29

Monday, January 27, 2020

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: January 7, 1862

A BOARD THE NEW YORK.

Here we are, packed like sardines in a box; three companies of us, K, C and B, in the after cabin. The officers and band occupy the saloon and state rooms on the upper deck, the other companies fill the cabin on the forward deck, the ladies' saloon and gangway amidships. The horses are forward, and the baggage is piled up forward and on the guards. Altogether, we are settled in here pretty thick, but by keeping ourselves in good humor and by a little forbearance and accommodation, one to the other, we shall manage to get along and live together in peace, like Barnum's happy family. This boat is a large, first-class steamer, built in the strongest manner and designed for a sea-going boat. She is commanded by Capt. Clark; the first mate is a Mr. Mulligan. Both have the appearance of gentlemen. The troops are embarking as rapidly as possible, and in a day or two more the expedition will be ready to sail.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 18

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: January 9, 1862

As bright and lovely a morning as ever dawned on Chesapeake bay. The expedition sails today. The harbor is full of life, tugboats are running in all directions, vessels are getting themselves in their order in line, the anchors are all up and waiting the signal gun to start.

10 a. m. The signal gun announces that all is ready for the departure of the expedition. Slowly the flag-boat, containing Gen. Burnside and staff, moves off, followed by other boats as fast as they get ready to sail. Nothing particular occurred during the day’s sail. The bay is wide and we were so far from either shore that we could distinguish nothing of interest. We passed the mouth of the Potomac river a little before sunset, and shortly after dropped anchor for the night.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 18

Sunday, September 10, 2017

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, July 28, 1862

Headquarters Stevens' Div.
Burnside's Expedition,
July 28th, 1862.
My dear Mother:

I have received no further news from you since your last short communication hurriedly informing me of an improvement in my prospects. I only hope your intimation may be true. I asked Genl. Stevens' advice. He told me “unequivocally to accept.” I trust the appointment may soon be made, as I must have some little change before I return to life in unhealthy swamps. My experience in South Carolina has not specially fitted me to resist climatic influences here. It will be of incalculable advantage to me if I can get North three or four weeks this summer. I received a letter from Walter yesterday. He seems to feel the present critical condition of our country very much. Ned Harland is a near neighbor of mine now. Once I have met Charley Breed. I saw Henry King at Fortress Monroe a few days ago. We met and parted as though we were in the habit of seeing one another every day. Halleck was here day before yesterday. I was greatly disappointed in his appearance. Small and farmer-like, he gives a rude shock to one's preconceived notions of a great soldier. He is a striking contrast to Genl. Burnside who is rather a Chevalier Bayard in appearance and accomplishments. One has opportunities on the staff of seeing a great deal that is interesting, still staff officers are simply satellites of the General — if anything else, they are no use.

I see good accounts of recruiting in Connecticut. I trust this is so, for we must have those troops drilled and ready for the field as early as possible. It is not pleasant to think of dragging through another winter in quarters. These troops in Burnside's corps are really splendid, deserving indeed the name of soldiers. The Army looks very different now from what it did last fall, previous to our expedition down South.

I have really nothing to write, except that I am impatient to see you all, and that I remain as ever, with love to sisters and dear ones at home,

Affectionately,
WILL.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 169-70

Friday, September 8, 2017

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, July 20, 1862


Headquarters Stevens's Div.
Burnside's Expedition,
Newport News, Va.
July 20th, 1862.
My dear Mother:

I rode over yesterday to Fortress Monroe in my old clothes. Maj. Elliott, now Act'g. Inspector-General of our Division, and others, were of the party. On reaching the Fortress we found a man who for the sum of fifty cents, gives you half a dollar's worth of likeness — a “Cheap John” style of man — and him we concluded to patronize. I send you the result. If it has defects, I have no doubt there is fifty cents worth of truth in it. The moustache and imperial in the picture I consider an improvement of the original, the most considerate of mirrors being unable to conceal the fact that these articles of beauty are in reality a bright plinthic red. Next week the “Cheap John” style of man says he will have an apparatus for taking carte-de-visite. If so, I will put on my best clothes, get taken, and forward myself to you in a more presentable manner.

I have received a couple of letters from you, one of the 5th, the other of the 9th, both of which took first a trip to Port Royal. I hope my telegraphic despatch may prevent any more from traveling so far in vain.

I am much obliged to my friends for their kind thoughts and words regarding me. I'll tell you what, I think I ought to have a place in the Field of one of the new Conn. Regiments, not that I feel myself peculiarly competent for such a position, but because I think I'll do better than those they are likely to select. I have been the longest in the service of any of my friends. I have been oftener in battle and been subject to more vicissitudes, yet they all outrank me. Matteson and Doster are Majors. Ely commands a Regiment. Harland commands a Brigade. Charles Dodge has a Regiment. Rockwell commands a battery, and so on all through the list. Somehow or other I've not been so accustomed to bringing up at the tail end as to fancy it now. I am delighted, to be sure, at the success of friends. I feel no envy, but would like to be a little more upon an equality with them. To be sure, by crawling along slowly, I have risen from the Junior Lieut, of my Regiment to rank as the 2d Captain — that is to say, from the 30th position in the line to the 2d. Still I would like a Major's position in one of the new Regiments. However, where I now am, I have responsibility enough, I suppose.

Benham being disposed of, my letter to Uncle John has proved uncalled for, but I was very indignant at the time of writing it. . . . You may have read something of his letter relative to Gen. Stevens. It is unnecessary to characterize the whole as a malicious falsehood. I will only mention one thing. Benham quotes a letter from Stevens to prove that he (Stevens) approved the reconnoissance Benham projected. I happen to know personally the note quoted was written by Stevens with regard to a reconnoissance proposed by Stevens himself. This plan of a reconnoissance was agreed to by the Generals in Council in opposition to the plan proposed by Benham. Benham at first consented to this, but finally ordered the attack of the 16th to be made as he had originally proposed. The letter then of Gen. Stevens written regarding the Stevens plan of reconnoissance, is used by Benham to show that the Benham plan met with Stevens' approbation.

Benham had an unaccountable aversion to Rockwell. When Rockwell was sick, and stopping on board the steamer with the amiable General, Benham growled so much about it, that Gen. Stevens was obliged to advise (privately) Capt. Rockwell to return to his company, though he was still pale, weak and unable to do duty. After the battle of the 16th, Benham wrote his report complimenting Capt. Hamilton of the Regular Artillery, omitting all mention of Rockwell, though Alfred's Battery had been the most exposed, and had done nobly. This made Gen. Stevens very angry, so he informed Benham that he must alter his report, that his Command should have justice, that Rockwell had acquitted himself as well as Hamilton, and that he should have the credit he was entitled to. (Somewhat mixed way of expression, but comprehensible I believe). Gen. Stevens being an unpleasant man to deal with when angry, Benham got frightened and altered his report.

Since commencing this letter I have received one from you regarding dear Lilly's wedding. I could not be there, but you all know how I feel. You speak of $100.00 having been spent on Lilly's wardrobe by you in my behalf. I only mention it to have it fully understood that that money must never be returned to me.

Tell Mrs. Tyler, information I afterward received at James Island, renders the presence of Alfred there, to say the least, very doubtful.

I am tired, so I will close. Love to all.

Affec'y. your son,
W. T. Lusk.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 166-8

Sunday, August 21, 2016

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, January 26, 1862

Beaufort, S. C. Jan. 26th, 1862.
My dear Mother:

Another Sunday has come around, time slips quietly by — still nothing striking has taken place. We are all impatiently awaiting the advent of some steamer, bringing us news from the Burnside Expedition. Is our country really so prolific in great Commanders? Is there a Napoleon for each one of the dozen armies that compose the anaconda fold? Ay, ay, it would be a sad disappointment if the fold should happen to snap somewhere! Things look like action down here, and that not long hence. We have been gathering our troops gradually on the islands about the mouth of the Savannah river. Thither have gone our Connecticut friends, and yesterday three more steamers, loaded, took the remainder of Gen. Wright's Brigade with them. We are left here quite unnoticed on Port Royal Island, in seeming safety, though there are many troops around us. An army, boasting much, awaits us on the mainland, but an army having still a wholesome dread of Yankees. I made them a sort of visit the other night (25th), passing up Hospa Creek in a light canoe, hidden by the darkness and the long grass of the marshes. A negro guide paddled so lightly that, as we glided along, one might have heard the dropping of a pin. It was fine sport and as we passed close by the enemy's pickets we would place our thumbs to our noses, and gracefully wave our fingers toward the unsuspecting souls. This was by no means vulgarly intended, but as we could not speak, we thus symbolically expressed the thoughts that rose in our bosoms. We pushed on until coming to a point where a stream like a mere thread lay before us. Here we paused, for this was a stream we wished to examine. At the mouth of the stream stood the sentries of the enemy. We could hear their voices talking. We lay under the river grass, watching. Soon a boat pushed across the little stream to the opposite shore. We shoved our canoe far into the marsh, and lay there concealed. Then all was still and we thought it time to return, so back we went, and returned home unnoticed and in safety. Such little excursions give a zest to the dulness of camp. I have not yet been able to give Miss Mintzing's letter to any one who could send it to her friends, yet I hope such an opportunity will speedily come. What is Tom Reynolds now doing?

The paymaster has not visited us this long time, and I have but fifty cents in my pocket. However, when one has nothing to spend, he feels quite as happy down here, as money can buy but few luxuries in camp. We don't starve though. Secession cows give us milk, speculators bring us butter, and the negroes sell us chickens.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 118-9

Sunday, September 20, 2015

Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. to John L. Motley, March 8, 1862

Boston, March 8, 1862.

My Dear Motley: I have been debating with myself whether to wait for further news from Nashville, the Burnside expedition, Savannah, or somewhere, before writing you, and came to the conclusion that I will begin this February 24, and keep my letter along a few days, adding whatever may turn up, with a reflection thereupon. Your last letter, as I told you, was of great interest in itself, and for the extracts it contained from the letters of your correspondents. I lent it to your father and your brother Edward, and a few days ago to William Amory, at his particular request. Calling on old Mr. Quincy two days ago, we talked of you. He desired me most expressly and repeatedly to send his regards and respects. I think I am pretty near the words, but they were very cordial and distinguishing ones, certainly. He takes the greatest interest in your prosperity and fame, and you know that the greatest of men have not many nonagenarian admirers. It is nine weeks, I think, since Mr. Quincy fell and fractured the neck of the thigh-bone, and he has been on his back ever since. But he is cheerful, ready to live or die; considers his later years as an appendix to the opus of his life, that he has had more than he bargained for when he accepted life.

As you might suppose it would be at ninety, though he greatly rejoices at our extraordinary successes of late, he does not think we are “out of the woods,” as he has it, yet. A defeat, he thinks, would take down our spirits as rapidly as they were raised. “But I am an old man,” he says, “and, to be sure, an old man cannot help seeing the uncertainties and difficulties which the excitable public overlooks in its exaltation.”

Never was such ecstasy, such delirium of excitement, as last Monday, a week ago to-day, when we got the news from Fort Donelson. Why, — to give you an instance from my own experience, — when I, a grave college professor, went into my lecture-room, the class, which had first got the news a little before, began clapping and clapping louder and louder, then cheering, until I had to give in myself, and flourishing my wand in the air, joined with the boys in their rousing hurrahs, after which I went on with my lecture as usual. The almost universal feeling is that the rebellion is knocked on the head; that it may kick hard, even rise and stagger a few paces, but that its os frontis is beaten in.

The last new thing is the President's message, looking to gradual compensated emancipation. I don't know how it will be received here, but the effect will be good abroad. John Stuart Mill's article in “Fraser” has delighted people here more than anything for a good while. I suppose his readers to be the best class of Englishmen.

Yours always,
O. W. H.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 246-8

Sunday, September 13, 2015

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: February 4, 1862

Burnside has entered the Sound at Hatteras with his fleet of gun-boats and transports. The work will soon begin.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 108

Sunday, September 6, 2015

John L. Motley to Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr., February 16, 1862

Legation of the United States of America, Vienna,
February 26, 1862.

My Dear Holmes: You are the most generous and delightful of correspondents and friends. I have two long and most interesting letters of yours to acknowledge, the first of 7th January, the second of 3d February. They are exactly the kind of letters which I most value. I want running commentaries on men and events produced on such a mind as yours by the rapidly developing history of our country at its most momentous crisis. I take great pleasure in reading your prophecies, and intend to be just as free in hazarding my own, for, as you so well say, our mortal life is but a string of guesses at the future, and no one but an idiot would be discouraged at finding himself sometimes far out in his calculations. If I find you signally right in any of your predictions, be sure that I will congratulate and applaud. If you make mistakes, you shall never hear of them again, and I promise to forget them. Let me ask the same indulgence from you in return. This is what makes letter-writing a comfort and journalism dangerous. For this reason, especially as I am now in an official position, I have the greatest horror lest any of my crudities should get into print. I have also to acknowledge the receipt of a few lines to Wendell. They gave me very great pleasure. I am delighted to hear of his entire recovery, and I suppose you do not object, so much as he does, to his being detained for a time from camp by recruiting service. I shall watch his career with deep interest. Just now we are intensely anxious about the Burnside expedition, of which, as you know, my nephew Lewis Stackpole is one. He is almost like my son. I feel very proud of his fine intellectual and manly qualities, and although it is a sore trial to his mother to part with him, yet I am sure that she would in future days have regretted his enrolment in the “stay-at-home rangers.”

That put me in mind to acknowledge the receipt of “Songs in Many Keys.” It lies on our drawing-room table, and is constantly in our hands. I cannot tell you how much pleasure I derived from it. Many of the newer pieces I already know by heart, and admire them as much as you know I have always done their predecessors. The “Ballad” is in a new vein for you, and is, I think, most successful. If I might venture to mention the separate poems by name which most please me, I should certainly begin with “Iris, her Book,” “Under the Violets,” “The Voiceless,” which are full of tenderness and music. Then the clarion ring of the verses for the centennial celebration of Burns has an immense charm for me, and so the trumpet tones of “The Voice of the Loyal North”; but I should go on a long time if I tried to express my honest and hearty admiration for the volume as fully as it deserves. I thank you most sincerely for it, and I assure you that you increase in fullness and power and artistic finish without losing any of your youthful freshness of imagination. I am glad that the emperor had the sense to appreciate your “Vive la France.” I agree with him that it is plein d'inspiration and exceedingly happy. I admire it the more because for the moment it communicated to me the illusion under the spell of which you wrote it. For of course France hates us as much as England does, and Louis Napoleon is capable of playing us a trick at any moment.

I am obliged to reason like a cosmopolite. The English have a right to hate America if they instinctively feel that the existence of a great, powerful, prosperous, democratic republic is a standing menace to the tenure of their own privileges. I think the instinct false, however, to a certain extent. Physical, historical, and geographical conditions make our democratic commonwealth a possibility, while they are nearly all wanting in England. I do not think the power or glory or prosperity of the English monarchy any menace to our institutions. I think it an unlucky and unreasoning perverseness which has led the English aristocracy to fear our advance in national importance. I do not mean that, on the whole, the government has behaved ill to us. Especially international dealings with us have been courteous and conciliatory. I like personally English ways, English character, Englishmen and Englishwomen. It is a great empire in arts and arms, and their hospitalities are very pleasant. Nevertheless, I love my own country never so much as at this moment. Never did I feel so strong a faith in her destiny as now. Of John Bright we have already spoken, and of the daily and noble battle waged for us by the “Daily News” (which I hope you read); and now how must we all rejoice at the magnificent essay in “Fraser's Magazine” by the acknowledged chief of English thinkers, John Stuart Mill!

It is awful to reflect that the crisis of our fate is so rapidly approaching. The ides of March will be upon us before this letter reaches you. We have got to squash the rebellion soon, or be squashed forever as a nation — aut fer, aut feri. I do not pretend to judge military plans or the capacity of generals; but, as you suggest, perhaps I can take a more just view of the whole picture of this eventful struggle at this great distance than do those absolutely acting and suffering in the scene. Nor can I resist the desire to prophesy any more than you do, knowing that I may prove utterly mistaken. I say, then, our great danger comes from foreign interference. What will prevent that? Our utterly defeating the Confederates in some great and conclusive battle, or our possession of the cotton ports and opening them to European trade, or a most unequivocal policy of slave-emancipation. Any one of these three conditions would stave off recognition by foreign powers until we had ourselves abandoned the attempt to reduce the South to obedience.

The last measure is to my mind the most important. The South has, by going to war with the United States government, thrust into our hands against our will the invincible weapon which constitutional reasons have hitherto forbidden us to employ. At the same time, it has given us the power to remedy a great wrong to four millions of the human race, in which we have hitherto been obliged to acquiesce. We are threatened with national annihilation, and defied to use the only means of national preservation. The question is distinctly proposed to us, Shall slavery die, or the great Republic? It is most astounding to me that there can be two opinions in the free States as to the answer. If we do fall, we deserve our fate. At the beginning of the contest, constitutional scruples might be respectable. But now we are fighting to subjugate the South, that is, slavery. We are fighting for the Union. Who wishes to destroy the Union? The slaveholders. Nobody else. Are we to spend $1,200,000,000 and raise 600,000 soldiers in order to protect slavery?

It really does seem to me too simple for argument. I am anxiously waiting for the coming Columbus who will set this egg of ours on end by smashing in the slavery end. We shall be rolling about in every direction until that is done. I do not know that it is to be done by proclamation—rather, perhaps, by facts. Well, I console myself by thinking that the people, the American people at least, is about as wise collectively as less numerous collections of individuals, and that the people has really decreed emancipation and is only puzzling how to carry it into effect. After all, it seems to be a law of Providence that progress should be by a spiral movement, so that when we seem most tortuous we may perhaps be going ahead. I am firm in the faith that slavery is now wriggling itself to death. With slavery in its primitive vigor I should think the restored Union neither possible nor desirable. Do not understand me as not taking fully into account all the strategical considerations against premature governmental utterances on this great subject.

But are there any trustworthy friends of the Union among the slaveholders? Should we lose many Kentuckians and Virginians who are now with us if we boldly confiscated the slaves of all rebels? And a confiscation of property which has legs and so confiscates itself at command is not only a legal, but would prove a very practical, measure in time of war. In brief, the time is fast approaching, I think, when “Thorough” should be written on all our banners. Slavery will never accept a subordinate position. The great Republic and slavery cannot both survive. We have been defied to mortal combat, and yet we hesitate to strike. These are my poor thoughts on this great subject. Perhaps you will think them crude.

I was much struck with what you quote from Mr. Conway, that if emancipation was proclaimed on the Upper Mississippi it would be known to the negroes of Louisiana in advance of the telegraph. And if once the blacks had leave to run, how many whites would have to stay at home to guard their dissolving property?

You have had enough of my maunderings. But before I conclude them, may I ask you to give all our kindest regards to Lowell, and to express our admiration for the “Yankee Idyl”? I am afraid of using too extravagant language if I say all I think about it. Was there ever anything more stinging, more concentrated, more vigorous, more just? He has condensed into those few pages the essence of a hundred diplomatic papers and historical disquisitions and Fourth of July orations. I have very pleasant relations with all the “J. B.'s”1 here. They are all friendly and well disposed to the North. I speak of the embassy, which, with the ambassador and ambassadress, numbers eight or ten souls, some of them very intellectual ones.

Shall I say anything of Austria? What can I say that would interest you? That is the reason why I hate to write. All my thoughts are in America. Do you care to know about the Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian (if L. N.2 has his way)? He is next brother to the emperor; but although I have had the honor of private audience of many archdukes here, this one is a resident of Triest. He is about thirty; has an adventurous disposition, some imagination, a turn for poetry; has voyaged a good deal about the world in the Austrian ship of war, for in one respect he much resembles that unfortunate but anonymous ancestor of his, the King of Bohemia, with the seven castles, who, according to Corporal Trim, had such a passion for navigation and sea affairs, “with never a seaport in all his dominions.” But now the present King of Bohemia has got the sway of Triest, and Ferdinand Maximilian has been resident there, and is Lord High Admiral and chief of the Marine Department. He has been much in Spain and also in South America. I have read some travels — “Reise Skizzen” — of his, printed, not published. They are not without talent, and he ever and anon relieves his prose jog-trot by breaking into a canter of poetry. He adores bullfights, rather regrets the Inquisition, and considers the Duke of Alva everything noble and chivalrous and the most abused of men. It would do your heart good to hear his invocations to that deeply injured shade, his denunciations of the ignorant and vulgar Protestants who have defamed him. “Du armer Alva! weil du dem Willen deines Herren unerschütterlich treu warst, weil die fest bestimmten Grundsätze der Regierung,” etc., etc., etc. You can imagine the rest. (N. B. Let me observe that the D. R. was not published until long after the “Reise Skizzen” were written.)

Dear me, I wish I could get back to the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries! If once we had the “rebels licked, Jeff Davis hanged, and all,” I might shunt myself back to my old rails. But alas! the events of the nineteenth century are too engrossing. If Lowell cares to read this letter, will you allow me to make it over to him jointly, as Captain Cuttle says? I wished to write to him, but I am afraid only you would tolerate my writing so much when I have nothing to say. If he would ever send me a line I should be infinitely obliged, and would quickly respond. We read “The Washers of the Shroud” with fervent admiration. Always remember me most sincerely to the club, one and all. It touches me nearly when you assure me that I am not forgotten by them. To-morrow is Saturday, and last of the month.3 We are going to dine with our Spanish colleague.4 But the first bumper of the don's champagne I shall drain to the health of the Parker House friends. Mary and Lily join me in kindest regards to you and all yours; and I am, as always,

Sincerely your friend,
J. L. M.
_______________

1 Cf. “Jonathan to John,” in “The Biglow Papers.”
2 Louis Napoleon.
3 The club dinner took place on that day.
4 M. de la Torre Ayllon.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 239-46

Monday, August 10, 2015

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Sunday Morning, January 19, 1862

Fayetteville, Virginia. — It rained almost all night; still falling in torrents. A great freshet may be expected. . . .

Great war news expected. Burnside's expedition sailed; near Cairo, a great movement forward; Green River, ditto. What we need is greater energy, more drive, more enterprise, not unaccompanied with caution and vigilance. We must not run into ambuscades, nor rush on strongly entrenched positions. The battle of New Orleans and many others in our history teach the folly of rushing on entrenchments defended by men, raw and undisciplined it may be, but all of whom are accustomed to the use of firearms. Such positions are to be flanked or avoided.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 191

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Brigadier-General John Sedgwick to his Sister, January 26, 1862

Washington, D. C., January 26, 1862.
My dear sister:

I am still in Washington, engaged on the court, but hope to conclude in the course of a few days.

Your letter of the 15th was received yesterday, having been detained in camp, waiting for me. I cannot give you much encouragement about coming home. I did not think I would have any difficulty in getting a few days when I was ready to go. The General is very pleasant, and I am sure would grant me a few days if he could without granting to hundreds of others that are constantly beseeching him. I have excellent health, weigh over two hundred — how much, I am ashamed to say. Everything forebodes an early move, but the roads will prevent any for a few days. Nothing has been heard of Burnside's expedition yet. It is supposed he has gone into Pamlico Sound, will capture Roanoke Island, take Newbern and then Goldsborough, and then down the coast to Beaufort. If he succeeds in all this, it will be a happy thing.

If this war is ever terminated I intend now to leave the service and live a quiet and, I hope, a happy life at my old home.

Ever your affectionate brother,
J. S.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 36-7

Monday, May 25, 2015

Brigadier-General John Sedgwick to his Sister, January 15, 1862

Alexandria, Virginia,
January 15, 1862.
My dear sister:

General Burnside has sailed with his expedition, but to what point is still unknown to the many. When the expedition was first started the intention was to have it operate with the army here on the Potomac; but it has since been increased to three times the size it was originally intended to be. The general impression seems to be that it is to land to operate against Norfolk, or near by on the North Carolina coast. We shall probably know before you receive this. Did I ever tell you that Mr. Heine, Kate Sedgwick's husband, is close by? He is a Captain of volunteers, and attached to the staff of General Heintzelman as topographical engineer. I see him quite frequently. He is a very pleasant and agreeable gentleman. The weather is such now, and has been for several days past, that no move could be made, if one was in contemplation. Several inches of snow on the ground, and still raining and sleeting. I can only guess for myself that no great move will be made from here till the army in front is partly broken by the expeditions already sent or that are to sail. It is too hazardous to undertake to move such large bodies of comparatively undisciplined men against almost equal numbers in a fortified position. Another Bull Run, and Washington is gone. They are doing nothing in Congress except scrambling after contracts, and other things of less importance.

I mean to come home for a few days, and as soon as I can, but General McClellan does not want to allow any one to go. Answer immediately.

Your affectionate brother,
J. S.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 35-6

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: February 21, 1862

A crowd collected here last night and there was a serenade. I am like Mrs. Nickleby, who never saw a horse coming full speed but she thought the Cheerybles had sent post-haste to take Nicholas into co-partnership. So I got up and dressed, late as it was. I felt sure England had sought our alliance at last, and we would make a Yorktown of it before long. Who was it? Will you ever guess?—Artemus Goodwyn and General Owens, of Florida.

Just then, Mr. Chesnut rushed in, put out the light, locked the door and sat still as a mouse. Rap, rap, came at the door. “I say, Chesnut, they are calling for you.” At last we heard Janney (hotel-keeper) loudly proclaiming from the piazza that “Colonel Chesnut was not here at all, at all.” After a while, when they had all gone from the street, and the very house itself had subsided into perfect quiet, the door again was roughly shaken. “I say, Chesnut, old fellow, come out — I know you are there. Nobody here now wants to hear you make a speech. That crowd has all gone. We want a little quiet talk with you. I am just from Richmond.” That was the open sesame, and to-day I hear none of the Richmond news is encouraging. Colonel Shaw is blamed for the shameful Roanoke surrender.1

Toombs is out on a rampage and swears he will not accept a seat in the Confederate Senate given in the insulting way his was by the Georgia Legislature: calls it shabby treatment, and adds that Georgia is not the only place where good men have been so ill used.

The Governor and Council have fluttered the dovecotes, or, at least, the tea-tables. They talk of making a call for all silver, etc. I doubt if we have enough to make the sacrifice worth while, but we propose to set the example.
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1 General Burnside captured the Confederate garrison at Roanoke Island on February 8, 1862.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 131-2

Saturday, December 13, 2014

George William Curtis to Charles Eliot Norton, December 15, 1862

New York, December 15, '62.

I am at my mother's, — a house of mourning. On Saturday afternoon my brother Joe fell dead at the head of his regiment, ending at twenty-six years a stainless life in the holiest cause and in the most heroic manner. God rest his noble soul, and grant us all the same fidelity! My mother, who has felt the extreme probability of the event from the beginning, is as brave as she can be; but it is a fearful blow. She does not regret his going, and she knew the risk, but who can know the pang until it comes?1
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1 Joseph Bridgham Curtis was born in Providence, R. I., October 25, 1836. Educated as a civil engineer at the Lawrence Scientific School, Cambridge, Mass., he entered the Union service at the outbreak of the war in 1861 as engineer on the staff of the Ninth Regiment of the New York State National Guard. On the organization of the Fourth Rhode Island Regiment, he was appointed Adjutant. He served with Burnside at Roanoke and in the Army of the Potomac. The regiment was cut to pieces at Antietam, and fell back in disorder. Lieutenant Curtis seized the colors, shouting, “I go back no further! What is left of the Fourth Rhode Island, form here!” But there was not enough left to form, and Curtis, for the rest of the day, fought as a private in an adjoining command. He was made Lieutenant-Colonel on the reorganization of the regiment, and was in command at Fredericksburg. He was instantly killed at the head of his men on the evening of the battle of December 13,1862.

SOURCE: Edward Cary, George William Curtis, p. 160-1

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Diary of Edward Bates, January 10, 1862

Disappointed in the S.[upreme] C.[ourt] by the postponement of the School cases, I hastened to C.[abinet] C.[ouncil] where we had a free consultation, which disclosed great negligence, ignorance and lack of preparation and forethought. Nothing is ready. McClellan is still sick, and nobody knows his plans, if he have any (which with me is very doubtful). The expeditions for the South do not go19 — nobody knows why not — The boats and bomb-rafts at Cairo are not ready20 — not manned — Indeed we do not know that the mortars have reached there — Strange enough, the boats are under the War Dept., and yet are commanded by naval officers. Of course, they are neglected — no one knows any thing about them.

I advised the Prest. to restore all the floating force to the command of the Navy Dept, with orders to cooperate with the army, just as the Navy on the sea coast does.

Again, I urged upon the Prest. to take and act out the powers of his place, to command the commanders — and especially to order regular, periodical reports, shewing the exact state of the army, every where. And to that end—

I renewed formally, and asked that it be made a question before the Cabinet, — my proposition, often made heretofore — that the President as “ Comm[an]der in Chief of the Army and Navy ” do organize a Staff of his own, and assume to be in fact, what he is in law, the Chief Commander. His aid[e]s could save him a world of trouble and anxiety — collect and report to him all needed information, and keep him constantly informed, at a moment’s warning — keep his military and naval books and papers — conduct his military correspondence, — and do his bidding generally “in all the works of war[.]”

It is objected (by both the Prest. and Sec of War) not that the thing is wrong or undesirable in itself but that the Generals wd. get angry — quarrel &c!!  I answer — Of course the Genls — especially the Chief21 —would object—.  they wish to give but not receive orders — If I were Prest, and I found them restive under the command of a superior, they should soon have no inferiors to command. All of them have been lately made of comparatively raw material, taken from the lower grates [sic] of the army officers or from civil life. The very best of them — McClellan, McDowell,22 Halleck23 &c until very lately, never commanded more than a battallion [sic]. They have no experience in the handling of large bodies of men, and are no more to be trusted in that respect, than other men of good sense, lately their equals in rank and position. If therefore, they presume to quarrel with the orders of their superior — their constitutional commander — for that very reason, they ought to be dismissed, and I would do, it in full confidence that I could fill their places with quite as good men, chosen as they were chosen, from the lower grades of officers, from the ranks of the army, or from civil life.

There can be no lawful, just or honest cause of dissatisfaction because the President assumes, in practise, the legitimate duties of his place — His powers are all duties — He has no privileges, no powers granted to him for his own sake, and he has no more right to refuse to exercise his constitutional powers than he has to assume powers not granted. He (like us, his official inferiors) cannot evade his responsibilities. He must shew to the nation and to posterity, how he has discharged the duties of his Stewardship, in this great crisis. And if he will only trust his own good judgment more, and defer less, to the opinions of his subordinates, I have no doubt that the affairs of the war and the aspect of the whole country, will be quickly and greatly changed for the better.

I think it unjust to to [sic] those Genls. to impute to them such unsoldierly conduct. Very probably, they would object and grumble in advance, in the hope of deterring the President from that course, 24 but the resolve, once taken, would work its own moral and peaceful triumph. For those generals are, undoubtedly, men of sense, prudence and patriotism, and, for their own, as well as their country’s good, would obey their official superior, as cheerfully and heartily as they expect their inferiors to obey them. If, however, contrary to professional duty, to the moral sense of right, and to sound logic, they should act otherwise, that fact would be proof positive of unfitness to command, and, for that cause, they ought to be instantly removed.

If a Major Genl. may be allowed to complain because the President has about him a staff — the means and m[a]chinery of knowledge and of action — why may not a Brigadier complain that his Major Genl. is so accom[m]odated? The idea seems to me absurd. The very thought is insubordinate, and smacks of mutiny.

My proposition assumes that the President is, in fact as well as theory, commander in chief (not in detail) of the army and navy; and that he is bound to exercise the powers of that high post, as legal duties. And that he cannot perform those duties intelligently and efficiently, by his own unassisted, personal powers — He must have aides, by whatever names you call them; for they are as necessary to the proper exercise of those official functions, as the bodily senses are to the proper perception and action of the individual man. If it be the duty of the President, as I do not doubt that it is, to command, it would seem to follow, of necessity, that he must have, constantly at hand and under his personal orders, the usual means and machinery for the performance of that duty, with knowledge and with effect.

In at least one important sense, I consider the Departments of War and Navy as constituting the Staff of the Commander in chief, and it does seem to me highly important that he should have, always near him, intelligent and confidential persons, to facilitate his intercourse with that multitudinous staff.

If it be not the President’s duty to command, then it is not his right, and prudence would seem to require him to renounce all control of the affairs of war, and cast all the responsibility upon those who are entrusted with the actual command — But this he cannot do, because the constitution forbids it, in declaring that he “shall be Commander in chief.”

I see not the slightest use for A General in chief of the army. When we had peace with all the world, and a little nucleous of an army, of about 15.000 men, and had the veteran Lieut. General Scott as our first officer, perhaps it was well enough to give him that honorary title. But now, that we have a war spreading over half a continent, and have many armies, reaching, in the aggregate to over 600.000 men, it is simply impossible for any one general, usefully and well, to command all those armies. The army of the Potomac alone is quite enough for any one man to command in detail, and more than almost any one can do, with assurance of good success.

The President being a Civil Magistrate and not a military chief, and being the lawful commander in chief of the army, needs, more than any well-trained general can need, in his intercourse with and his control of the army, the assistance of skillful and active aid[e]s, always near his person. And I indulge the hope that he will find it right to appoint and organize just such and so many as his exigencies may seem to require; and I say all this in the confident belief, that his own reputation, now and hereafter, and the present and permanent good of the Country, do require such an organization.25
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19 “Butler’s and Burnside’s. See supra, Dec. 31, 1861.
20 “They were being collected for the attack on Fort Henry which took place in early February.
21 George B. McClellan.
22 Supra, Nov. 16, 1861, note 53.
23 Supra, Nov. 13, 1861, note 37.
24 Inserted later in the margin.
25 See supra, Dec. 31, 1861, note 64.

SOURCE: Howard K. Beale, Editor, The Diary of Edward Bates, published in The Annual Report Of The American Historical Association For The Year 1930 Volume 4, p. 243-6

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Diary of Edward Bates, December 31, 1861 – First Entry

Ever since last date, the weather has been mild and beautiful. . . .

I do wonder at the slowness of our military movements. Byrnside's expedition has not yet sailed.57 He says he is ready, he says he is ready and yet he does not go — And the Naval men say that they are ready, and yet they do not go—

And just so with Butler's expedition58 — It does not go. Meanwhile, all this charming weather is lost, and I fear that, at last, they will start just in time to catch the storms of winter.

I hear that a Reg[imen]t. of Caval[r]y has been sent to Sherman, in S. Carolina.59

[Marginal Note.] Jan.y. 4 [1862]. I hear today, that Gen Sherman has taken a point on the Charleston and Savanna[h] R. R. near to Charleston[.]

We are expecting daily important news from the West. A great battle is imminent, near Bowling Green K.y. between the insurgents under A. S. Johns[t]on60 and Buckner61 and our army under Buell.62 If Halleck63 can only cooperate, and simultaneously, move upon Columbus, we may [stand] to win advantages decisive of the war. But I fear that their arrangements are not as perfect as they ought to be.

There is an evident lack of system and concentrated intelligence — Of course, I did not expect exact system and method in so large an army raised so suddenly, but surely, many of the deficiencies ought before now, to have been corrected.

For months past (and lately more pressingly) I have urged upon the President to have some military organization about his own person — appoint suitable aid[e]s — 2 — 3 — or 4 — to write and carry his orders, to collect information, to keep the needful papers and records always at hand, and to do his bidding generally, in all Military and Naval affairs. I insisted that, being “Commander in chief” by law, he must command — especially in such a war as this. The Nation
requires it, and History will hold him responsible.

In this connexion, it is lementable [sic] that Gen McClellan — the General in chief, so called — is, and for some time has been incapacitated by a severe spell of illness (and Genl. Marcy,64 his chief of Staff — and father in law, is sick also[)]. It now appears that the Genl. in chief has been very reticent — kept his plans absolutely to himself, so that the strange and dangerous fact exists, that the Sec of War and the Prest. are ignorant of the condition of the army and its intended operations!

I see no reason for having a Genl. in chief at all. It was well enough to call the veteran Lieut. Genl. Scott so, when we had no enemies in the [sic] in the field, and no army but a little nucleus
of 15.000 men. But now that we have several mighty armies and active operations spreading over half a continent, there seems to me no good sense in confiding to one general the command of the whole; and especially, as we have no general who has any experience in the handling of large armies — not one of them ever commanded 10.000 under fire, or has any personal knowledge of the complicated movements of a great army.

If I were President, I would command in chief — not in detail, certainly — and I would know what army I had, and what the high generals (my Lieutenants) were doing with that army.65

As to the Slidell and Mason affair, see my notes, elsewhere, at large.66
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57 See supra, Nov. 29, 1861.

58 See loc. cit.

59 See supra, Nov. 13, 1861.

60 Albert S. Johnston, West Point graduate of 1826 who had served in the U. S. Army, 1826-1834, in the Texas Army, 1836-1837, in the Mexican War, and again in the U. S. Army from 1849 until he resigned when Texas seceded. He served with distinction in high command in the Confederate Army until he was killed in battle on April 6, 1862. At this time he was commanding in Kentucky.

61 Simon B. Buckner of Kentucky, West Point graduate of 1844, had served in the Army in Mexico and on the frontier, but had resigned in 1855. He had organized an effective Kentucky militia in 1860-1S61 and commanded Kentucky's troops during the period of her neutrality. He tried to keep both Confederate and Union forces out of Kentucky, but when this failed he threw in his lot with the Confederates, became a brigadier-general, and at this time was fighting under Johnston.

62 Don Carlos Buell of Indiana: West Point graduate of 1841 who had served in Mexico; officer in the Army, 1841-1861; brigadier-general of volunteers in 1861. He had been sent by McClellan to command the Army of the Ohio and to organize the Union forces in Kentucky. He marched on Bowling Green on February 6, 1862, and drove the Confederates temporarily back into Tennessee.

63 Supra, Nov. 13, 1861, note 37.

64 Randolph B. Marcy, West Point graduate of 1832 who had served In Mexico, on the frontier, and in Florida. He was McClellan's chief-of-staff until McClellan was displaced and then he was sent to the West on inspection duty.

65 For an interesting study of this problem of the assumption of supreme military command by Lincoln see Sir Frederick Maurice's Robert E. Lee, the Soldier, 73-75, 223-224, and his Statesmen and Soldiers of the Civil War, 59-117.

66 Supra, Nov. 16, Nov. 27, Dec. 25, 1861.

SOURCE: Howard K. Beale, Editor, The Diary of Edward Bates, published in The Annual Report Of The American Historical Association For The Year 1930 Volume 4, p. 217-9

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Brigadier General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, February 11, 1862


CAMP PIERPONT, VA., February 11, 1862.

To-night we have the good news that Roanoke Island has been taken by the Burnside fleet, and while I write the camp is cheering all around me. There are no particulars, so that our cheers are unmingled with mourning. General Wise,2 you know, was at Roanoke Island; so perhaps your good mother may have to rejoice over his capture, or mourn his death; let us hope as Christians the former may prove to be the case. Nothing has transpired in reference to Stone's arrest. I must believe he is the victim of political malice, and that he will be vindicated from the charge of treachery and collusion with the enemy. You know I always told you his conduct at Ball's Bluff, in a military point of view, was open to criticism, and I always wondered McClellan did not order an investigation. The "Tribune" is becoming more violent and open in its attacks on McClellan and all regular officers. This is in the interest of Fremont, Jim Lane and others. All this I am glad to see; the more violent they become, the more open and bold, the sooner the question of putting them down or yielding to them will have to be settled, and until that question is settled, there is no peace practicable or possible. To-night's paper has a very important and good piece of news if true, viz: that Louis Napoleon in the address to his Chambers says, that so long as we respect the rights of neutrals France will not interfere.
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2 General Henry A. Wise, C. S. A., brother-in-law of Mrs. Meade, and Governor of Virginia, 1856-1860.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 1, p. 245-6

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Brigadier General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, January 24, 1862

CAMP PIERPONT, VA., January 24, 1862.

The mysterious movements of the Burnside expedition puzzle me very much. It has now been about ten days, and yet we have no reliable information of its whereabouts. The victory in Kentucky2 was certainly very important in its results, and if the Confederate Army of the Potomac do not fight better than Zollicoffer's army, we ought to be victorious. For ten thousand men to run as they did, after losing only one hundred and fifty killed, is more disgraceful than the behavior of our troops at Bull Run. At Ball's Bluff, though we were overpowered by superior numbers, yet our men behaved with great gallantry.
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2 Battle of Mill Springs, Kentucky, January 19, 1862. The Federal troops under Brigadier-General George H. Thomas defeated the Confederate troops under General G. B. Crittenden, led by General F. K. Zollicoffer. Federal loss, killed, wounded, and missing, 194 (O. R.).

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 1, p. 243

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Brigadier General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, January 5, 1862

CAMP PIERPONT, VA., January 5, 1862.

I fully expected before to-day we would have received the orders that we had hints about, but as yet nothing has been received. Possibly McClellan's sickness may have postponed them, for it is now pretty well known that he has been, if he is not now, quite sick, with all the symptoms of typhoid fever. His employing a Homoeopathic doctor has astonished all his friends, and very much shaken the opinion of many in his claimed extraordinary judgment.

The weather continues quite cold; we have had a little snow, but the ground is frozen hard and the roads in fine order. I have seen so much of war and its chances that I have learned to be satisfied with things as they are and to have no wishes. Were it not for this philosophy, a movement would be desirable, for I am satisfied this army is gaining nothing by inaction, and that volunteers, beyond a certain point, are not improvable. And as this war will never be terminated without fighting, I feel like one who has to undergo a severe operation, that the sooner it is over the better. An officer from town this evening says the report there is that McCall's Division is to join Burnside's expedition,1 but I think this is a mere street rumor. They would not put an officer of McCall's years and service under so young a man as Burnside. I think, however, that if the Burnside destination is correctly guessed, viz., up the Potomac, that it is highly probable that simultaneous with his attack of the river batteries a movement of the whole of this army will be made on the Centreville lines, to prevent any detachment of their forces to reinforce the batteries and their guard. Should Burnside be successful and find a point where we could advance in their rear, then a large force will be sent in that direction, while the balance attack them in front. This is all surmise and is entre nous, but I have a notion it is McClellan's plan just now.
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1 Brigadier-General Ambrose E. Burnside, commanding expedition to Roanoke Island, N. C.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 1, p. 242