Showing posts with label Charles J Biddle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charles J Biddle. Show all posts

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, June 18, 1864

June 18, 1864

A general attack was planned for an early hour, so Headquarters, which had lain down late, had scarce a chance to turn over once before it was routed out again, just at daylight. The General was in a tearing humor. (I don't think anybody felt any too pleasant.) “Lyman, you are behind time!” I had the satisfaction of stepping out, all dressed, and saying shortly: “No, sir, I am ready.” Presently: “Colonel Lyman, take two or three orderlies and go to General Warren and report to me by telegraph promptly and frequently.” I did not admire this duty, as there was to be an assault; but everybody must do his share, and I started immediately. The General started with me. “Do you know the way to General Hancock's?” “Yes, sir!” In a few moments: “This is not the short cut to Hancock's.” “I did not say I knew the short cut, General.” “Well, but I wanted the short cut! What's the use of the road; of course I knew the road!” Whereupon I suggested I would gallop ahead, not to lose time; which I did and left my chief to attack Biddle, who was late and was coming up very red in the face!

It was half-past four when I got to Headquarters of the 5th Corps, which consisted of a couple of tents, pitched by a solitary tree. Warren, with all his clothes on, was catching a little sleep on a camp bed. Burnside1 was there also, sitting under the tree, and there was a telegraph operator with his little portable instrument. Our lines were advancing, and there was an inexplicable silence along the skirmish line.  . . . At 6.50 came an order for all the line to advance and to attack the enemy if found.  . . . A little later, after seven, Major Roebling came in and reported he had discovered the enemy's new line of works, that ran along a high ground beyond the railroad, and that they were all there, with batteries in position. Soon after General Warren mounted, and we all rode to the front, over a wide oat-field past the works captured last evening, from which we were afterwards driven. In these there was one part where we seemed to have had an enfilade fire, for the Rebel dead lay there, one on top of the other.  . . . We stopped under a hollow oak, just at a point of woods and at the juncture of two country roads. Some movement of our troops attracted the enemy, who immediately sent two or three round shot to enfilade the road, and which of course came about our ears in a most uncomfortable way. Ill luck would have it that the fire of two or three batteries just crossed at that point. So not a gun could open but that we got a reminder. To which may be added that stray bullets from Crawford's front came zip! Tziz! to add their small voices. We had it intermittently all day long from eight o'clock till dark. New batteries soon came up, under charge of Captain Phillips (Appleton's commander). “I want you to go in there with your guns,” said General Griffin, “but you will be under fire there.” “Well,” said Phillips, “I have been in those places before"; and rode on, followed by his pieces. Later, his First Lieutenant, Blake, was carried by me, dead, shot with a minié ball through the forehead. . . .

After much difficulty in advancing the different divisions, we at last drove the enemy from the railroad cut and a gully beyond, and got in, to about 200 yards of their works. At 3.30 in the afternoon the first assault took place. We rode out on an open field to watch it. In front was a broad expanse, quite flat; then the railroad cut with a fringe of bushes, and then a gradual rise crowned by the Rebel rifle-pits and batteries, which were distant perhaps half a mile. Close to us, on each side, were our batteries, firing as fast as they could, and the rebels were sending back shot, shell, and shrapnel as hard as possible. Half a mile is no good with minié rifles; and, as soon as we attacked, the balls came tolerably numerous, cutting up little puffs of sand on the dry field. I sat up straight on my horse, comme les autres, but I can't say it was pleasant, though it is a help to have others cool and brave. It was as I expected — forty-five days of constant marching, assaulting and trenching are a poor preparation for a rush! The men went in, but not with spirit; received by a withering fire, they sullenly fell back a few paces to a slight crest and lay down, as much as to say, “We can't assault but we won't run.” The slopes covered with dead and wounded bore testimony that they were willing to give proof of courage even in circumstances that they deemed desperate. Another attack at six resulted no better, save that the lines were at all points pressed close in on those of the enemy. Birney, during the day, made a grand attack with no better success, on the right. I returned after dark, feeling pretty sad. General Meade was much disappointed, but took it cheerfully as he does every matter which affects him personally. The whole thing resulted just as I expected. You cannot strike a full blow with a wounded hand.
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1 “Everyone was near the breaking-point. He, Burnside, complained of the heavy artillery detailed to his corps. ‘They are worthless,’ said he; ‘they didn't enlist to fight and it is unreasonable to expect it from them. In the attack last night I couldn't find thirty of them!’ He afterwards said of Meade (to one of his Staff): ‘He is irascible; but he is a magnanimous man.’ Presently up comes Griffin, in one of his peculiar blusters! and all about a commissary who, he maintains, didn't follow orders. Griffin stormed and swore. ‘Now! now!’ said Warren (who can be very judicious when he chooses), ‘let us all try to keep our tempers more, and not swear so much. I know I give way myself; but it is unworthy.’” — Lyman's Journal.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 167-70

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, January 29, 1864

Headquarters Army Of Potomac
January 29, 1864

If you saw the style of officers’ wives that come here, I am sure you would wish to stay away. Quelle experience had I yesterday! I was nearly bored to death, and was two hours and a half late for my dinner. Oh, list to my harrowing tale. I was in my tent, with my coat off, neatly mending my maps with a little paste, when Captain Cavada. poked in his head (he was gorgeous in a new frockcoat). “Colonel,” said he, “General Humphreys desires that you will come and help entertain some ladies!” I held up my pasty hands in horror, and said, “What!” “Ladies!” quoth Cavada with a grin; “a surprise party on horseback, thirteen ladies and about thirty officers.” There was no moyen; I washed my hands, put on the double-breaster, added a cravat, and proceeded, with a sweet smile, to the tent, whence came a sound of revelry and champagne corks. Such a set of feminine humans I have not seen often; it was Lowell factories broken loose and gone mad. They were all gotten up in some sort of long thing, to ride in. One had got a lot of orange tape and trimmed her jacket in the dragoon style; another had the badge of the Third Corps pinned all askew in her hat; a third had a major's knot worked in tarnished lace on her sleeve; while a fourth had garnitured her chest by a cape of grey squirrel-skin. And there was General Humphreys, very red in the face, smiling like a basket of chips, and hopping round with a champagne bottle, with all the spring of a boy of sixteen. He spied me at once, and introduced me to a Mrs. M–––, who once married somebody who treated her very badly and afterwards fortunately went up; so Mrs. M––– seemed determined to make up lost time and be jolly in her liberty. She was quite bright; also quite warm and red in the face, with hard riding and, probably, champagne. Then they said they would go over to General Sedgwick's, and General Humphreys asked if I would not go, too, which invitation it was not the thing to refuse; so I climbed on my horse, with the malicious consolation that it would be fun to see poor, modest Uncle John with such a load! But Uncle John, though blushing and overcome, evidently did not choose to be put upon; so, with great politeness, he offered them sherry, with naught to eat and no champagne. Then nothing would do but go to Headquarters of the 3d Corps, whither, to my horror, the gallant Humphreys would gang likewise. Talk about cavalry raids to break down horses! If you want to do that, put a parcel of women on them and set them going across the country. Such a Lützow's wild hunt hath not been seen since the day of the respected L. himself! Finally one lady's horse ran away, and off went the brick, Humphreys, like a shot, to stop her. Seeing her going into a pine tree, he drove his horse between the tree and her; but, in so doing, encountered a hidden branch, which slapped the brisk old gent out of his saddle, like a shuttlecock! The Chief-of-Staff was up in a second, laughing at his mishap; while I galloped up, in serious alarm at his accident. To make short a long story, the persistent H. tagged after those womenfolk (and I tagged after him) first to Corps Headquarters, then to General Carr's Headquarters, and finally to General Morris's Headquarters, by which time it was dark! I was the only one that knew the nearest way home (we were four miles away) and didn't I lead the eminent soldier through runs and mud-holes, the which he do hate!

To-day we have had a tremendous excitement: a detail of 250 men to “police” the camp, under charge of Biddle, just appointed Camp Commandant. They have been sweeping, cutting down stumps, burning brush, and, in general, making the worst-looking camp in the army neat and respectable.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 65-7

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Brigadier General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, December 21, 1861


CAMP PIERPONT, VA., December 21, 1861.

It has been several days since I last wrote to you, owing to occupation, principally drilling my command and yesterday going on a foraging expedition.1 Of this last you are advised by this time through the public press, as what with the telegraph and the night train, it is actually a fact that at 11 A. M. to-day I read in the Philadelphia papers of this date an authentic account of the affair, furnished by McCall, before I had an opportunity of getting information either from Ord2 or McCall. I do not know whether you will be disappointed in not seeing my name in connection with the affair, but this is the fortune of war. Reynolds and myself were allowed to secure our plunder undisturbed, but after permitting two expeditions, the enemy made preparations to capture the third, which was Ord's. He left early in the morning with his brigade, and Reynolds followed to support him, and it was intended that I should remain in camp for the day. About 10 o'clock, however, McCall received information from Ord, who was advancing, that he had reason to believe the enemy were going to dispute his advance. McCall immediately went out to join him, leaving word with me to get my command under arms and be ready to move at a moment's notice. About 1 P. M., hearing heavy firing, without waiting for orders, I started with the brigade and reached the scene, distant eleven miles, by 4 o'clock, only to learn that it was all over, and that I might march back to camp, which we did, arriving here about half-past 8, pretty well tired out. It appears they had four regiments and a battery of artillery. Ord had a battery and five regiments. They had the choice of ground and opened the attack. Their artillery was miserably served and did us no damage. Ours, on the contrary, under Ord's directions, was very well served and did great execution — so much so that, after throwing them into confusion, our men charged, and they fled in all directions, leaving their dead and wounded and lots of baggage on the ground, giving us a complete and brilliant success. I have just seen General Ord, and I asked him how the men behaved. He replied, better than he expected, but not so well as they ought; that there was much shirking and running away on the part of both officers and men. Still, he persuaded two regiments to maintain their ground and finally to charge. These were the Kane Rifles (Charley Biddle's regiment) and the Ninth, a very good regiment commanded by a Colonel Jackson. One regiment he could do nothing with — (but this, as well as all that precedes, is entre nous). The fact that the enemy were routed, leaving killed, wounded, baggage, etc., on the ground, will always be held up to show how gallantly the volunteers can and did behave, and the world will never know that it was the judicious posting and serving of the battery by Ord (himself an artillery officer) which demoralized and threw into confusion the enemy, and prepared them to run the moment our people showed a bold front, which it required all Ord's efforts and some time to get them to do. Ord says if they had charged when he first ordered them, he would have captured the whole battery and lots of prisoners. You will see therefore that the result proves the justness of my prediction. Owing to the success of our artillery, the men were gotten up to the charging point. Had the artillery of the enemy been served as ours was, and committed the same devastation, he could not have kept his command together five minutes. In other words, it is success in the beginning of an action which keeps volunteers together, and disaster or being checked is sure to throw them into confusion or cause them to run.

Among the wounded was an officer, and from his person was taken a letter which was evidently written by a person of intelligence and position. It speaks of their fortifications at Centreville, says they are prepared for McClellan's attack, that whilst they know an attack from him would be a military faux pas and cannot but result disastrously, yet their hopes are based upon the knowledge of the pressure that is being brought to bear on him by the people of the North, who are ignorant of war and deluded with an overweening sense of their own power and a blind contempt for their enemy. This letter has been sent to McClellan. We have heard nothing from them since our return.
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1 Engagement, Dranesville, Va., December 20, 1861. Federal loss, killed, wounded, and missing, 68 (O. R.).

2 Brigadier-General Edward O. C. Ord, commanding 3d Brg. Pa. Reserves.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 1, p. 236-8

Friday, October 18, 2013

Brigadier General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, November 26, 1861


CAMP PIERPONT, VA., November 26, 1861.

The weather continues quite cold. We had a slight fall of snow, and every night a heavy frost. No indications that I can see of a movement, and every one is beginning to be tired of inactivity, and to wonder when something will be done. The court martial still continues to occupy my time from 9 to 3 o'clock each day, but I hope to get through with it now in a day or two.

Charley Biddle has left his regiment and gone to Philadelphia, preparatory to taking his seat in Congress. He is really a great loss to this division. The command of his regiment devolves upon Lieutenant Colonel Thomas L. Kane.

Did you see Colonel Willcox was among those selected to be put to death, in case our Government hung any of the privateersmen condemned? I have no doubt they will carry out their threat and hang man for man, if we persist in the folly of denying them rights which we have always claimed for ourselves.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 1, p. 231-2

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Brigadier General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, October 14, 1861

CAMP PIERPONT, VA., October 14, 1861.

We see their pickets and lookouts on all prominent points in front of us, and this afternoon towards sunset they opened a battery on our left (I mean by ours, McCall’s Division). I saw the flash of the guns, but could not see where the shot fell, or at what part of our line they were firing. I think we are on the eve of important events, and that it will not be long before we have a struggle. For my part, I do not desire it postponed, and was quite disappointed they did not attack us.

The country is becoming impatient at the apparent inactivity of our troops, and I have no doubt, if the enemy afford McClellan any chance which he deems favorable, he will attack them.

I went over to-day to see our friend W. F. Smith, commanding the division next to us. Madame was there, and I went over by invitation to luncheon and to see her. She asked where you were, and I said in Philadelphia, at which she expressed a little surprise, when I told her you had a brigade of infantry that required as much talent to command and as close attention to duties as our brigades. I heard Miss Anne Biddle was in camp the other day, visiting Colonel Charles J.1 By-the-by, I don't remember having told you that Charley’s regiment (the Bucktails, as they are called, from having this appendage in their caps) was in my brigade for a week, and when taken from me, expressed, Colonel and all, the greatest regret, for in that short time we had become most excellent friends. I met to-day Lieutenant Colonel Penrose,2 who said he was the son of the former Solicitor of the Treasury, and a brother of Dr. Penrose. This makes the third of your connections in my brigade.
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1 Charles J. Biddle, colonel 42d Regt. Pa. Vols.
2 Wm. M. Penrose, lieutenant-colonel 35th Regt. Pa. Vols.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 1, p. 223-4