Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, September 24, 1862

Our rifles have been delivered, and to-day we were in line two hours or more on the main street of the camp, ready to receive, with military honors, Col. Stevenson, of the 24th Regiment, but he did not come. The boys say he purposely delayed his visit, so as to avoid that ceremony. Many of our company drilled under him in the battalion and liked him very much.

We are mad with the Sutler. We think he charges too much for things which our friends would gladly bring us, so, many will not trade with him, and many things are still smuggled through the lines. If we could only get up our spunk to clean him out. Some one with malicious intent and forethought, did break into his domicile and start things, but were frightened, or, probably belonging to some other regiment, did not know how our account stood.

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 9-10

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, October 26, 1862

ARRIVAL AT NEW BERNE.

About nine this morning we saw our first of Rebeldom, and after taking a pilot, and passing several ugly-looking rips and bars, leaving Fort Macon on our left, we disembarked from the steamer to the wharf, which had a railroad depot on the farther end of it. The place is called Morehead City. But if this is a city, what can the towns and villages be? We stayed in this shed or depot awhile, and were then ordered on the train of open cars. Here we waited for two mortally long hours in a pelting rain, water on each side of us, water over us, and gradually, but persistently, water all through our clothes, and not a drop of anything inside of us.

Notwithstanding the rain storm was severe, we had considerable to interest us after we started, which was between two and three o'clock. There had been fighting along the line of road a year previous, and every few miles we passed picket-posts, occupied by Mass. regiments. We cheered them and they responded. Once, where we stopped to wood-up, we saw a settlement of negroes, and some of the boys bought or hooked their first sweet potatoes here. Others of us contented ourselves with trying to keep our pipes lighted, our tobacco dry, and the cinders out of our eyes. Most all of us came to the conclusion that North Carolina was a tough place, barren and desolate, and hardly worth the cost of fighting for it.

We arrived at New Berne about six o'clock, wet through, hungry, tired, and ready for our feather beds, but found our hotel for that night was not supplied with any such articles of furniture.

Our company, with some others, was quartered in a big barn of a building built of green boards, which had shrunk both side and end ways, and for beds we had the floor, with a few bundles of hay scattered around. We could not expect much of a supper, but we managed some way, and then turned in, wet as we were. Soon after, we were called up and informed that coffee and beef, with compliments, from the Mass. 24th Reg't, were awaiting. We accepted, with thanks, and made quite a supper. Then we turned in again,—some on bundles of hay, others on the floor. Those on the hay had a hard time of it, as the bundles were shorter than we were, and we had a tendency also to roll off. So after several ineffectual attempts, many gave it up and started from the building to find better quarters. Finally, we found some wood, made a rousing fire in an old sugar boiler, and stood around it in the rain, trying to keep warm, if not dry.

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 15

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: July 5, 1862

CELEBRATING THE FOURTH OF JULY. 

The Fourth was celebrated with salutes from the forts, batteries and gunboats, morning, noon and night. There were gala times in Camp Oliver last night. A huge bonfire was set from a pyramid of 75 barrels of resin, and when well on fire it lighted up the camp in grand style. All the regimental bands were present, and under the direction of P. S. Gilmore, leader of the 24th Massachusetts regimental band, were consolidated, and gave a grand concert with artillery accompaniment. The effect was very fine. The camp guard was taken off and all went in for a good time. The parade ground was covered with officers and soldiers from other camps, and officers and marines from the boats and citizens generally. The delighted darkies were on hand in force. It far surpassed anything they had ever heard or dreamed of. They are very fond of music, and gathered in great numbers in the vicinity of the bands, never noticing the battery which stood a short distance away, or if they did it was a sealed book to them and a harmless looking battery enough. After the bands had played a few selections they struck up Hail Columbia; and when in quick succession three or four of those guns were let off, there was a great scarcity of darkies. They are terribly frightened at artillery firing, and will make the distance between themselves and the guns as far and as quick as possible. The celebration was kept up till near midnight; everybody seemed to enjoy it and had a good time. If we were behind Boston in orations, floral exhibitions and the like of that, we certainly were ahead of them in music, salutes and fireworks. 

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 64

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

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: February 8, 1862

BATTLE OF ROANOKE ISLAND.

At daylight, the order to fall in was heard on all sides. Putting on my equipments and taking Spitfire and a big sweet potato, which I had with much labor succeeded in baking, I took my place in my company. The brigade all ready, Gen. Foster gave the order to march. He, with Col. Upton, took his place at the right of our regiment, marching by the flank into the woods. We soon came out to the pickets and the road that runs through the island. Here we filed to the left, marching up the road. Company A, Capt. Pickett, was thrown out as skirmishers. They soon fell in with the enemy's pickets and drove them in. The column moved up the road to within a short distance of the clearing, in front of the rebel works. On the right of the road the ground was hard and free from brush, but on the left was an almost impenetrable swamp, covered with a dense growth of tangle-blush and horse briars. The right wing of the regiment filed to the right, while the left plunged into the swamp, and with swords and jack-knives, succeeded in cutting a path until they had penetrated the swamp far enough to form our line. The regiment was now nearly all in the swamp, the right resting just across the road. The howitzer battery had taken position in the road, in front of our right wing. The 23d and 27th Massachusetts formed on our right, while the 10th Connecticut was held in reserve. We were now in line in the swamp, and facing to the front, commenced firing. The battery had already opened the ball, and were receiving the attention of the enemy in front. We could see nothing to shoot at, but taking our range by the smoke of the enemy’s guns we blazed away. We fired high, low and obliquely, thinking if we covered a wide range of ground, we might possibly lame somebody, and it seemed our shots must have proved troublesome, for they turned their attention to us, pouring musketry and canister shot without stint into the swamp. We were up to our knees in mud and water, so their shot passed over us without doing much damage. We were now ordered to cease firing and advance, but how to advance was the question. We could stand on a bog and cut away the briars in front of us and jump to another one; where they were not too large we could crawl through them, tearing not only our clothes but our hides as well. The officers rendered good service in cutting away the briars with their swords. In this way we could advance a few steps at a time and then fire a few rounds; the enemy all this time showing us marked attention. Capt. Foster of company D was the first man I saw hit. I was watching him as he stood on a bog, cutting away the briars with his sword, and thinking of him as colonel of the old 8th regiment Massachusetts volunteer militia, in which I used to muster. The shot struck him near the eye. He whirled round on the bog, and would have fallen had not three of his men caught him and led him to the rear. I was rather amused at the major's plan of rifle practice; he was practicing with a large revolver, shooting into the air at an elevation of about 80 degrees. Some one asked him what he was trying to act out. “Why,” replied the major, “you see my shots attain their summit directly over the enemy, and if one of those shot in falling should hit a man on top of his head, his goose is cooked just as effectually as though he had been hit with a cannon ball.” By cutting and crowding ourselves through the briars, we advanced to within about 300 yards of the enemy. Our ammunition being now exhausted and having been in the swamp about three hours we were ordered out. The 21st Massachusetts took our places and the 51st New York and 51st Pennsylvania regiments forced their way through to the left front; the three regiments succeeded in getting out on the enemy’s right flank. Seeing that all was now lost, the rebels took to their heels for the head of the island, followed by Reno's and Foster's brigades. At the head of the island, near the enemy's camp, was Gen. Burnside with the 24th Massachusetts regiment, to whom Col. Shaw, in command of the Confederate forces, surrendered. By this, about 3000 prisoners, with their arms, ammunition and stores, fell into our hands. But the greatest prize of all, old ex-Governor Wise, slipped through our fingers. Perhaps, having some premonitions of the fate which awaited his command, he wisely took himself off the island last night, leaving his command with Col. Shaw, of the 8th North Carolina regiment. The old governor probably acted on the principle of the militia captain who was about leading his company into action. He made them a little speech, telling them to be brave and valiant, not to run until actually forced to. “But,” he said, “in case that should happen, and I being a little lame, I think I had better start now.”

THOUGHTS.

During the action I had seen quite a number hit and led back to the rear, but I had little time to think much about it. After the chase commenced and we marched through the little redoubt and over the ground held by the enemy, and I began to see the mangled forms of dead and dying men, I was filled with an indescribable horror and wanted to go right home. I now began to realize what we had been doing, and thought that, if in this age of the world, with all our boasted civilization and education, men could not settle their differences short of cutting each other’s throats, we were not very far removed from barbarism. But I suppose so long as the nature of man is ambitious and selfish he will try to obtain by force what he cannot attain by other means. It was about night when we reached the Confederate camp, found the business had all been done, and Gen. Burnside was master of the situation. We now appropriated to our own use the log barracks of the enemy, leaving them to secure lodgings as best they could, as we had done the night before, with only this difference; they had a large body-guard over them, to see that they were orderly and kept the peace.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 34-6

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: December 2, 1861

THE TROOPS BRIGADED.

The troops encamped around here have been formed into three brigades, and will be commanded by Brigadier Generals Foster, Reno and Parke; the whole to be under command of Gen. A. E. Burnside and known as Burnside's coast division. Our regiment has been assigned the right of the first brigade, comprising the 25th, 23d, 24th and 27th Massachusetts and 10th Connecticut regiments, under command of Brig. Gen. John G. Foster, U. S. A. I think we are fortunate in our commander, as he appears to me like a man who understands his business. Gen. Foster is a regular army officer, ranking as captain of engineer!. He served in the Mexican war, and was with Major Anderson at the storming and surrender of Fort Sumpter. He has recently been commissioned brigadier general of volunteers. Judging from appearances, I have great faith in him as an able commander.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 13-4

Brigadier-General William F. Bartlett to Harriet Plummer, July 23, 1864

Headquarters First Brigade, First Division,

Ninth Army Corps.

Before Petersburg, Va., July 23, 1864. Evening.

My Dear Mother, — This is the first day since I left Washington that I have been able to write at all. Perhaps you will have thought that you ought to hear from me before this reaches you; but I have taken the first opportunity and have not forgotten your injunctions. I left Washington Tuesday P. M., reached here Wednesday P. M. Came from Fortress Monroe on despatch boat with General Ingalls, Chief Quartermaster of Army, with whom I dined at City Point, where his headquarters are. By chance found the Chaplain at the Point, and sent for my horses. Ned and Billy were both looking finely. After dinner started for the front. Got as far as my Quartermaster's camp, and as it began to rain, I stayed there all night with him. I slept very well my first night on the ground. In the morning a black snake over six feet long was killed within a few feet of my bed. After breakfast, rode on up to Division Hospital, where I found Dr. White, and several old letters, among them the Nut's of June 6, which I found time to read to-day. Afterwards went to Burnside's Headquarters to report for duty. He was not in. I dined with some of the staff; saw the General later. He was glad to see me. I am assigned, as I supposed, to the command of the First Brigade, First Division. General Ledlie commands the Division. There are now six Massachusetts regiments and one Pennsylvania in the brigade, not numbering more than 1,300 men altogether, present for duty. If the regiments were filled up it would be one of the largest and best brigades in the Army, being all Massachusetts troops. I am trying to get C. B. Amory, of Jamaica Plains, formerly of the Twenty-fourth Regiment, who has been appointed Assistant Adjutant-general, transferred to this brigade. I shall use for the present the staff that is here . . . . the surgeon, a Dr. Ingalls, of Boston, Fifty-ninth Regiment, who is very much of a gentleman. I slept last night and the night before at Division Headquarters with Adjutant-general Mills, Fifty-sixth. He was hoping that I would take the Division, but it seems Ledlie has withdrawn his resignation. The brigade is in two lines of breastworks, one hundred yards apart, in the front of the enemy's works and within two hundred yards in some places. Brigade Headquarters are two hundred and fifty yards in rear of the second line. Division Headquarters two hundred yards in rear of brigade; so you see all are in easy musket range of the enemy. We are in pine woods, the trees not very thick. The Headquarters have to be protected by a stockade of logs against bullets, which are constantly coming through here. Four officers of the Fifty-seventh have been hit since I got here, one killed, three very badly wounded, in the second line. Our stockade does not protect us against shells, which fall in front and rear of us, but have not hit the Headquarters yet. Some fall way in the rear of Division Headquarters, and some near Corps Headquarters, which are about one fourth of a mile in rear of Division. We have a stockade to protect the horses, too, but one of the orderlies' horses and one of General Ledlie's were killed the other day. A bullet goes whizzing over my tent every few minutes as I write, and goes thud into one of the trees near, with a sound that makes you think what a headache that would have given you if your head had been where the tree was. The bullets patter like rain at times against the outside of this stockade of logs, the inside of which my elbow touches as I write. It is a continual rattle of musketry, sometimes swelling into a roar along the line, and varied with the artillery and mortars. So you see we are liable at any moment to be struck, even while reading a paper or eating dinner. A bullet went through Dr. Anderson's table as he was eating breakfast this morning. You must be prepared to hear the worst of me at any time. God grant it may not come, for your sake, and for the sake of all I love and who love me at home. But you must be prepared for it. It is wearing to body and mind, this being constantly under fire. People at the North who are enjoying themselves and thinking of nothing but making money, little appreciate what this brave army is enduring every day and hour for them, and how much more cheerful and hopeful they are than people at home. I wish some of the patriotic (?) ones at home who are making speeches (and money), would just come out here and spend a week, even back here at my Headquarters. They would not care to go down to the lines where the men are day and night fighting for their security and safety. I came over here this morning and assumed command. Tomorrow I must go down and examine the lines, which is of course dangerous; but trust I shall get back safely. I shan't go there any oftener than is necessary, but it is my duty to visit them occasionally. To give you an idea of the firing that is going on constantly, I will count the shots in the next minute. It is more quiet than usual to-night. Eighty-one, and one heavy mortar shell, which burst in the air between here and second line, but sounded as if it were in the next tent. “There!” at that moment a bullet went whizzing through between mine and the one next, just above the stockade (which is a little higher than your head when sitting), and struck down somewhere between here and Division Headquarters, near where the horses are. So you see this letter is written literally under fire. I am feeling very well, my leg is better in the saddle than it was before. I have got my valise, etc., and shall be quite comfortable in a day or two (under the circumstances), if I am spared so long. I intend to have this stockade built higher to-morrow, so as to afford more protection from bullets. If the rebs knew just where our Headquarters are, they would shell us out from here in three minutes; but fortunately they don't, and can only guess. They guess inconveniently near at times. As I may not have time to write, you can let Frank Palfrey and Ben see this letter, if you see them, and if the Nut chooses to copy it she can, and send it to Aunt.

There goes another bullet. Frank Palfrey will readily understand and appreciate our position here. I hope I shall hear from you soon. The mail comes regularly every night. I will write as often as I can. Have other letters to write to-night, so will finish this. There is one pleasant thing to relieve the wear of this, — I have a good band here at Headquarters, and it plays at intervals through the day and evening, protected by a stockade. The rebs have the benefit of it as much as I do, but I can't help it. They favor us with a band sometimes. Tell the Nut and Miss Barnett that they just played “When Johnny comes Marching Home,” and “Faust.” “Thud;” there go two ugly bullets into a tree near by, one of them, George thinks, went through the upper part of the tent. How should you like to lie down and go to sleep with this going on all night? I expect to sleep soundly. I have for two nights. With much love to all,

Ever your affectionate son,

W. F. B.

Zip prrrrrr goes the last bullet you will hear, for I close this now. That one went over to Division Headquarters. Here's another before I could get my pen off the paper. Good-night.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 110-5

John L. Motley to Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr., August 31, 1862

Vienna, August 31, 1862.

My Dear Holmes: Bare, bare, bare of news, events, objects of the slightest interest to you or any one else, what need have I to apologize for silence? Naked, but not ashamed, I involve myself in my virtue, while you, if, like kind fortune, you will still wag your swift pen at me, — si celerem quatis pennam, — will find me ever grateful, or even trying to be resigned if you do not. I have not written for about four months. Even to my little Mary I am obliged now to write themes instead of letters. By this mail I send her one “on the advantages of silence.” If you should happen to meet her, ask her to show it to you that you may see to what a depth of imbecility your old friend has descended. I have yours of the 27th of April and the 20th of June. I am deeply grateful for them. I have just been reading them both over, and you will be glad to know that now, after the lapse of fifty years, which is about the distance from the first date at the rate we are living at, there is no false coloring, no judgment turned inside out, no blundering prophecy, no elation or no despondency which subsequent events have come to rebuke.

Writing as you do to me out of the kindness of your heart and the fullness of your head, you willingly run the risk of making blunders for the sake of giving me, in your vivid and intense way, a rapid image of the passing moment. I strain my eyes across the Atlantic through the stereoscope you so kindly provide me, and for an instant or two I am with you. I think very often of your Wendell. He typifies so well to me the metamorphosis of young America from what it was in our days. Consule Planco. There, within less than a twelvemonth after leaving college, the young poet, philosopher, artist, has become a man, robustus acri militia puer, has gone through such scenes as Ball's Bluff, Fair Oaks, and the seven days before Richmond, and, even while I write, is still engaged, perchance, in other portentous events, and it is scarcely a year since you and I went together to the State House to talk with the governor about his commission. These things would hardly be so startling if it was the mere case of a young man entering the army and joining a marching regiment. But when a whole community suddenly transmutes itself into an army, and the “stay-at-home rangers” are remembered on the fingers and pointed at with the same, what a change must be made in the national character!

Pfui liber den Buben

Hinter den Ofen,

Hinter den Sttthlen,

Hinter den Sophen,

as the chivalrous Koerner sang.

I had a very well-written letter the other day from a young cousin of mine, Julius Lothrop by name, now serving as sergeant in the Massachusetts Twenty-fourth. I need not say how I grieved to hear that Lowell had lost another nephew, and a near relative to your wife, too. You mentioned him in your very last letter as having gained health and strength by his campaigning. There is something most touching in the fact that those two youths, Putnam and Lowell, both scions of our most honored families, and both distinguished among their equals for talent, character, accomplishment, and virtue, for all that makes youth venerable, should have been among the earliest victims of this infernal conspiracy of slaveholders. I know not if such a thought is likely to comfort the mourners, but it is nevertheless most certain that when such seed is sown the harvest to be reaped by the country will be almost priceless. Of this I entertain no doubt whatever. God knows I was never an optimist, but in the great result of this tremendous struggle I can foresee nothing but good. The courage and the determination of both sides being equal, the victory must be to the largest army and navy and the longest purse.

What has so long held back the imprisoned power of the North during all these dreary years of the slave domination of our Republic was, after all, a moral principle. It was pushed to excess till it became a vice, but it was still the feeling of patriotism and an exaggerated idea of public faith. There is even a lingering band or two to be broken yet before the great spirit of the North is completely disenthralled. But I hope I am not mistaken in thinking that they have become weaker than packthread.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 276-9

Major Wilder Dwight to 1st Lieutenant Howard Dwight, September 6, 1861

pleasant Hill, Camp Near Darnestown,

September 6, 1861.

Dear Howard, — Advice is cheap. When lost it goes to the moon, according to the old superstition, and does no harm. Hear mine. General Fremont is on his way to Memphis. As sure as sunrise he will go there. Go with him. Now is the opportunity for adventure, for success. Energy and aptitude are in demand. This autumn they will bear fruit. The wheel is entitled to every man's shoulder; offer yours. In other words, pack your trunk, take a few letters of introduction and authentication from the Governor and others, go to Fremont, tell him you wish to serve in his army You will do yourself credit, and be in the midst of some of the most brilliant achievements of the war. I have said my say, after reflection, and from a near view of the field.

Yours affectionately,

Wilder Dwight.

To Lieutenant Howard Dwight.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 95-6

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, February 13, 1862

Cantonment Hicks, February 13, 1862.

The splendid news of the fight and victory of Roanoke Island reached us this morning, and has caused great excitement and enthusiasm. We are most anxious to hear the particulars, especially as the Twenty-fourth is mentioned as being terribly cut up by the fire from the batteries. It will be dreadful to hear of any of our friends being among the killed or wounded. What a record there will be for the New England Guards after the war is over! I believe all its old members have done well so far; after the Second has been heard from, the list will be complete. Our news from the west is scarcely less interesting; what a plucky and successful thing that was for those gun-boats to go right through the heart of Tennessee and into Alabama! It's a great pity they couldn't have stayed to the ball at Florence.

Last night, General Banks received a telegram from General McClellan saying that he, the latter, wanted five hundred men from Banks' division to go out to join the gun-boat expedition down the Mississippi; they were all to be volunteers. We were called upon to furnish thirty from our regiment, three from a company. As soon as it became known to the men, there was a perfect rush from the company streets to the captains' tents; everybody wanted to go. We chose three good fellows from “B,” who when they found out they were the lucky ones, were perfectly wild; one, a fine, big Irishman, that I enlisted at Chicopee, jumped right up in the air and gave a regular wild Irish whoop.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 34-5

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, August 6, 1864

August 6, 1864

I took a limited ride along our flank defences, where I discovered a patriotic sentry, sitting with his back to where the enemy might be supposed to come, and reading a novel! He belonged to the 7th Indiana. “What are your instructions?” say I. “Han't got none,” replies the peruser of novels. “Then what are you here for?” “Well, I am a kind of an alarm sentinel,” said this literary militaire. “Call the corporal of the guard,” said I, feeling much disposed to laugh. The sentry looked about a little and then singling out a friend, called out: “Oh, Jim, why, won't you just ask Jeremiah Miles to step this way?” After some delay, Jeremiah appeared. He was in a pleasing state of ignorance. Did not know the sentry's instructions, did not know who the officer of the guard was, did not know much of anything. “Well,” said I, “now suppose you go and find the sergeant of the guard.” This he did with great alacrity. The sergeant, as became his office, knew more than the corporal. He was clear that the sentry should not read a book; also that his conduct in sitting down was eccentric; but, when it came to who was the officer of the guard, his naturally fine mind broke down. He knew the officer if he saw him, but could not remember his name. This he would say, the officer was a lieutenant. “Suppose you should try to find him,” suggested I. Of course that he could do; and soon the “Loo-tenant” appeared. To him I talked like a father; almost like a grandfather, in fact; showed him the man's musket was rusty and that he was no good whatsoever. Loo-tenant had not much to say; indeed, so to speak, nothing; and I left him with a strong impression that you can't make a silk purse from a sow's ear. It is not ludicrous, but sad, to see such soldiers in this Army of the Potomac, after three years of experience. The man could not have been better: tall, strong, respectful, and docile; but no one had ever taught him. It was a clear case of waste of fine material, left in all its crudity instead of being worked up. And this is the grand characteristic of this war — waste. We waste arms, clothing, ammunition, and subsistence; but, above all, men. We don't make them go far enough, because we have no military or social caste to make officers from. Regiments that have been officered by gentlemen of education have invariably done well, like the 2d, 20th, and 24th Massachusetts, and the 1st Massachusetts Cavalry. Even the 44th and the 45th, nine-monthers, behaved with credit; though there was this drawback in them, that the privates were too familiar with the officers, having known them before. However, perfection does not exist anywhere, and we should be thankful for the manifold virtues our soldiers do pre-eminently possess. I see much to make me more contented in reading Napier, before referred to. After the taking of Badajos, the English allowed their own wounded to lie two days in the breach, without an attempt to carry them off. This is the nation that now gives us very good lectures on humanity. As to old Wellington, I suspect he was about as savage an old brute as would be easy to find.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 206-7

The Burnside Expedition Officially Heard From

Four of the Vessels Lost, Three Run Ashore, and a Number of Lives Lost, and the Fleet Lands in Pamlico Sound.

FORTRESS MONROE, January 27.

By the arrival of the steamer Eastern State, we have the first direct and official intelligence of the Burnside Expedition.  The Eastern State left Hatteras Inlet last night, and arrived here this morning.

The recent storms were unusually severe at Hatteras, and considerably delayed and crippled the expedition, but when the Eastern State left, everything looked favorable.

The Burnside Expedition sailed from Hampton Roads on the 11th and 12th of January, and consisted of over 125 vessels, of all classes. – They arrived at Hatteras between the 12th and 17th inst., having been greatly retarded by severe storms and adverse winds, which prevailed during that time.

After their arrival at Hatteras they experienced a series of unparalleled storms, so that at times it was impossible to hold communication between any two vessels of the fleet.

After the storm it was discovered that no vessel drawing over 7 feet 8 inches could pass into Pamlico Sound.  No vessel either could pass outside the bar, drawing over 13 feet, unless very skillfully piloted.  In consequence of this the City of New York struck on the outside of the bar.  She had cargo valued at $200,000, of powder, rifles and bombs, and proved a total loss.  Her crew was saved.

The steamer Pocahontas went ashore near the light house and became a total loss.  Ninety valuable horses belonging to the Rhode Island Battery were on board of her, and were all drowned, including several valued at $500 each.

The Grape Shot parted her hawser and went down at sea.  Her crew were saved.

An unknown schooner, loaded with oats, and another schooner, name unknown, with six of her crew, were lost on the beach.

The steamer Louisiana struck on the bar, where she still remains.  The report of her burning is incorrect.  She may get off.  The Eastern Queen and the Voltigeur are also ashore.  The latter will probably get off.

The Water vessels attached to the Expedition had not reached their destination when the Eastern State left, and had it not been for the condensers on board some of the vessels, and a vessel on shore, the most terrible suffering must have occurred among the troops.  As it was, the water casks were composed of old whiskey camphene, and kerosene oil casks.

It is thought the pilots of Hatteras are traitors, having intentionally run the vessels ashore.

The waves dashed with a clean sweep across the Hatteras shore, completely cutting off the fort from outside communication.

Colonel Allen of the 9th New Jersey Regiment, and his Surgeon, Weller, with a boat’s crew, and the 2d Mate of the Anne Thompson, when they found that the troops needed water, manned a life boat in order to reach the General and obtain it.  The boat swamped and the Colonel, Surgeon and Mate were drowned.  The crew were saved.

Gen. Burnside has succeeded in getting over the bar one half of his vessels, including the gunboats and 7,000 troops.  Everything appeared to be in satisfactory condition when the Eastern Star left.  The large transports with troops remained outside until the arrival of the Spaulding, from Port Royal on the 3d, when Capt. Hawes volunteered to bring them all inside.  This was accomplished yesterday afternoon, the Eastern State passing the last of them as she left.

A portion of the tug boats chartered by Gen. Burnside for the expedition refused to proceed any further than Fortress Monroe.

Fair weather has set in, and the schooners of the expedition are making their appearance with water, coal, and provisions, and everything looks more promising.  Gen. Burnside has been indefatigable, he is confident of the ultimate success of the expedition and has the respect of every man under his command.

The only troops that have been landed are the 24th Massachusetts Regiment and the Rhode Island Battery.  Col. Hawkins’ regiment goes with the Burnside Expedition.

There has been no loss of life except what is above mentioned.  Different reports are received at Hatteras from the surrounding population in relations to the disposition and intentions of the enemy.  Some who came in say that the rebels are completely frightened and will not make a stand.  Another report is to the effect that large masses of troops will be concentrated in the vicinity, and still another store, confirmed by many, that their exertions will be directed chiefly to placing obstacles in the way of our progress to Norfolk.

The rebels keep a good look out on our movements with their gunboats.  Two of them made their appearance after the storm, but disappeared when chased.

The mails by the Eastern State will be forwarded to-morrow.

The Pensacola left here (Ft. Monroe) this afternoon for Key West, Pensacola and Ship Island.  She will report to the Commodore of the fleet in the Gulf of Mexico.

The Baltimore boat brought down this morning the 2d and 4th batteries from Wisconsin. – They will remain at Fortress Monroe for the present.

A flag of truce was sent out this P. M. to meet the rebel steamer Selden, and brought back among the release prisoners, Lieut. Parks, 4th Michigan, Dr. Wm. B. Fletcher, 6th Indiana, Lieut. Wm. Booth, 2d Wisconsin, and Lieut. Hooper, 1st California.

We find the following in Southern papers.

To-day’s Richmond Dispatch has reliable authority for making the statement that “General Beauregard takes command of the army at Columbus, Ky., and Gen. Gustavus W. Smith succeeds him in the position he has so long and so successfully occupied.  At Columbus, we understand, that Gen. Beauregard is subordinate to no one except Gen. A. Sydney Johnson [sic].  This change goes into effect without delay.”

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, February 1, 1862, p. 2

The Burnside Expedition --- The Actual Facts

To the Editor of the New York Times

Upon my arrival at Fortress Monroe, I gave without any compensation, the facts relating to the Burnside Expedition to the Associated Press.  In that report I nothing extenuated, nor set down aught in malice.  I stated the facts without commentary.  The official dispatch distinctly states that only one vessel was lost and that Gen. Burnside says so.  I know that he did not.  I know that Gen. Burnside freely and openly spoke to the Correspondents of his position, of his misfortunes, and his responsibilities, and that when he was advised to place an espionage over the Press, he said, “I am in the hands of the public.  I have been deceived but I will bear the blame.”  Freely, and with generosity, in the face of counsel opposed to him he allowed the correspondents to send their dispatches.

The facts stated and published by these gentlemen have verified my original statement, but now that some official parties have seen fit to contravene the primary statements which the public received, perhaps it would be well to reiterate and state the facts.

An expedition called the Burnside Expedition which had long been in preparations, and which consisted of one hundred and twenty five vessels of all descriptions sailed on the 4th of January from Fortress Monroe.  Slight storms and head winds retarded us on our progress, but we arrived, either outside or inside the bar, on the 13th or 15th of this month.  Gen. Wool advised the departure, the pilots agreed with him, and thus we saved meeting a storm which would have buried one half of the worthless hulks on the sandy bottom of the sea.  The vessels comprising the expedition were bought under the understanding that they should draw a certain depth of water.  The correspondent of the Evening Post states in one case: At least one steamer was sworn to draw but six feet six inches when laden and actually draws when lightened as near as possible, eight feet.  From the World’s correspondent: ‘I shudder when I look back to a week ago yesterday, and recount the train of casualties which has followed us and were I to present them in the order they occurred your readers would certainly presume this an ill starred expedition.’

All the daily papers add testimony to these statements.  I will not enter into particulars already published.  The terrible storms almost unparalleled, the rapid current sweeping with resistless force from Pamlico sound to the wild ocean at the rate of five miles an hour and returning.  The high tides washing over the sandy beach of Hatteras and preventing the landing of soldiers or the serene quiescent gouty state of the Commodore who lounged on his divan while the whirlwind and the rough ocean tore and shattered the City of New York’s elegant proportions into driftwood and an unseemly object when a hauser from a tug boat might have saved her.

I will sate facts.  The City of New York with 400 kegs of gunpowder, 1,700 Enfield rifles, with bombs &c., was lost through neglect, and her Captain and crew in full sight of the fleet remained in the rigging forty hours exposed to the mercy of the elements.  The Zouave gunboat, armed with one 32 pound Parrott gun, two Wiard guns, rifled, dragged her anchors, stove a hole in her stern and sunk.  The troops were saved and so were the guns.  The vessel is lost.

The Grapeshot bomb-vessel went down at sea.

The Pocahontas, an old steamer, was charted for horses.  The pilot stated to the General on board the Spaulding that her owner was utterly opposed to her going on the expedition. – The pilot also stated that the boilers leaked and they drove wooden plugs in the boiler, that the iron grates fell out (See Times correspondent) and she went ashore because they and no sail!  The Pocahontas lost 80 Rhode Island Battery horses and 15 staff officers’ horses.

The bark Volligeur, with a portion of the Eleventh Connecticut is hard ashore with 500 troops.

The Admiral who carried Gen. Burnside and the Massachusetts Twenty-fourth and which were sent ashore, stuck in the Swash three days but is now over.

The steamer Northerner, the headquarters of Gen. Reno, broke her anchor and was ashore three days.

The Eastern Queen went hard ashore.

The Louisiana, a large paddle-wheel steamer, (Herald correspondent says,) broke her back.

A schooner went ashore near the light-house, with oats for horses, and went to pieces.

Another schooner went ashore with coal, and lost six men, four of whom were buried by Col. Stevenson of the Twenty-fourth Massachusetts, and two by the Eleventh Connecticut.

The ships purchased for the Expedition never could have stood a storm at sea.  Old freight boats from Poughkeepsie and Albany were fitted up as gunboats, painted black to look formidable, two of them, the Lancer and Pioneer, carried 500 troops each.  When in the trough of the sea they rolled fearfully and a Captain in the navy who was on board the Lancer, stated that in case of a storm, nothing could prevent her from bilging and going down.

The contractor who furnished the water casks for the expedition has committed an outrage on our soldiers which should only entitle him to John Brown’s fate.  The casks used to put water in were old whisky, kerosene oil and camphene barrels furnished by the Union city of Baltimore.  The sufferings endured from this source was terrible, men could not drink it, it was too nauseous.

Another contrast.  Ice would have been a luxury to the soldiers – it was only $5 a ton. – Water we were short of.  Coal we were short – it was only $4.50 a ton.  Stone was worth 25 cents.  All of these most excellent ballast.  Yet would it be believed that we took on board pig iron at $20 a ton as ballast, knowing when we started we should have to cast it overboard. – Yes such is the fact.  The gunboat Lancer arrived at Hatteras Inlet short of coal and water, and yet she threw over 75 tons of iron - $1,750 worth.  In all $3,600 worth of iron was cast overboard, yet we were short of water.

The pilots, we are all told, were all Union, Hatteras Inlet was Union, and New York subscribed $8,000 for the inhabitants because they were all Union.  Yet one of the pilots hired by us one went over to the enemy and informed them of everything, and as for the inhabitants of Hatteras Inlet, they are too ignorant to know the difference between Union and Secession.  It is all nonsense, experience teaches us that, there are no Union men there, and that the 3,000 rifles asked for, if they had been granted, would now be on Roanoke Island, and that the $8,000 sent to North Carolina for the benefit of the Union men, was all lost to us.  The south are in earnest and we are at play.  We had to pay $800 in secret service money to those self-same Union men, to know whether Roanoke Island was occupied or not.

Briefly reiterating the facts contained in my first dispatch, and calling attention to the rascalities of the first steamboat contractors, and other contractors, and asking the public to pause in the contemplation of a set of scoundrels who have allowed the lives and health of 15,000 men to be periled by their life boats and their water casks, I will conclude by stating the position of affairs.

The naval gunboats have crossed the “swash.”  One half of Gen. Burnside’s vessels have done likewise.  Seven thousand troops are safely over.  Those vessels which cannot cross will be relieved of their troops, and will cross on other vessels.  Vessels may be injured.  Water was scarce for a time.  The rations were rather slight.  But the whole army of 15,000 men have confidence in their General.  He is ever ready to relieve the wants of a shipwrecked crew or the privations of the soldier.  In the storm in his top boots, his old gray flannel shirt and Kossuth hat, the American Garibaldi is loved by all.  They have faith in his bravery – they have confidence in his judgment – and their experience teaches them that Gen. Burnside will never bring back the star on his shoulder dimmed by defeat, but rather that it will shine resplendent in victory.

W. R.

FIFTH AVENUE HOTEL, Tuesday, January 30th, 1862.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, February 8, 1862, p. 2

Details Of The Late Battle In North Carolina

NEW YORK, March 19. – The following are the details of the battle of Newberne:

Com. Case was in command of the fleet of Gunboats, and had sunken vessels, torpedoes and other rebel obstructions to overcome and pass, but surmounted them all, with but light damage to two of his fifteen vessels.  Two brigs, three barks and nineteen schooners were sunk by the rebels, above two rebel batteries.  The latter were silenced, the sunken vessels passed and our flag hoisted over the enemies batteries as our forces went along.  This was Saturday afternoon and night.

On Sunday morning a heavy fog set in, but lifted soon, and our boats passed up safely, silenced Ft. Thompson with its twenty guns heavy Columbiads, then Fort Ellis, with nine guns was captured after pretty brisk fighting, but the rebels fled in a panic, and our flag waved over another fort.

Only one fort was left to be engaged and Newberne would be at the mercy of our troops.  This was Ft. Lane, but the rebels having had enough of our boats, offered little, if any resistance, and fled.  The rebels then fired a large number of scows, filled with rosin and turpentine, intending to float them down and burn our gunboats, but they got stuck and burnt away furiously. – The gunboats then shelled the depot and track, but our troops had then crossed, and a white flag was hoisted.  Our Navy did not lose a man.

Operations on the land were briefly as follows.

Our troops landed 12 miles below Newberne, and began to prepare for an advance.  Most of the troops being so anxious to land that nearly every regiment jumped into the water and waded ashore, and the whole disembarkation was performed in less than two hours.

After marching two miles they found the deserted rebel camp with fires burning and a hot rebel breakfast untasted.  The division bivouacked for the night, and early in the morning skirmishing began.

Foster’s brigade, composed of the Massachusetts 23d, 24th, 25th and 26th with the 10th Connecticut in reserve, were in line and engaged a twenty gun battery of the rebels on their left flank, who showered grape, canister and shell upon them, also firing musketry from their infantry.  The 2d brigade comprising the 21st Mass., 51st New York, 51st Penn’a, and 9th N. Jersey, engaged them on the right and General Parks 3rd brigade took position in front.

The 1st brigade bore the brunt of the battle and the 24th Massachusetts had Maj. Stephenson and Lieut. Horton wounded, and the 23d Mass., lost Lieut. Col. Merritt, by a cannon ball carrying away one side of his body.  The 10th Conn., were ordered to support the 27th Mass., which had suffered severely.  The 3d brigade, together with the 2nd, executed a flank movement, and a hand to hand fight ensued of a most desperate character, when our troops drove the rebels out at the point of the bayonet, chasing them out of sight.

The rebels took possession of a Railroad train and fled from Newberne, burning the bridges, the Warrington House and several private dwellings.  A number of whisky and turpentine distilleries had commenced burning but were stopped.

A number of unionists were found in the city.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 22, 1862, p. 3