Showing posts with label 5th WI INF. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 5th WI INF. Show all posts

Friday, May 10, 2024

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, September 1, 1861

I cannot but feel depressed at what seems to be great imbecility in the management of our military affairs. By whose fault, I know not. Here we are with one hundred and fifty thousand troops, and we can stand on our National Capitol and see the rebels fortifying on Munson's Hill. I wonder if Gen. McClellan does not need a rest to hold his glass steady whilst he looks at them.

We have just received news of Dupont's having got a foothold in North Carolina. This places us in rear of the enemy, and brightens our prospects wonderfully, if our army there will only press their advantage.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 20

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, September 2, 1861

The following extract from a letter which I have just written to a friend, is the sum and substance of my thoughts, journalized for to-day. "Major will not write his mother whether an attack on Washington is expected. I will tell you what I think: From the dome of the Capitol we can see the rebels throwing up works just beyond Arlington. Every day or two we have picket skirmishing.

On Wednesday night we had, within a short distance of Washington, seven men set as picket guards. The next day I saw one of the seven wounded in the side by a musket ball. The other six were killed. Almost everybody here is looking for an attack, but I do not believe we shall have one. I have no doubt that Beauregard would like to draw us out to attack him; that he would then retreat, with the hope of drawing us into his nets as he did at Bull Run. But he will not attack us here.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 20-1

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, September 6, 1861

I introduce the following letter to a friend, as sufficiently explicit as to the occurrences since the last date:

CHAIN BRIDGE, VA., Sept. 6, 1861.

 

I commence this letter with the reiteration, Poor Virginia! That State, which for forty years has stood as the guiding star of our galaxy of States,—that State, which alone could, six months ago, have assumed the position of umpire to the belligerents, and which only would have been respected in the assumption—now stands at the very foot of the list. In the commencement of this contest she degraded herself by offering to become the cat's paw for South Carolina, and was still farther degraded by South Carolina rejecting the proposition to become her menial. By her officious subservience, however, she got her paw into the fire, and how dreadfully it is burned only those who are on her soil can form any idea. Everywhere is the destruction going on. Her soil is the battle-field, and, so far as the destruction of property is concerned, it matters but little which party is successful. Armies must have room to move and manÅ“uvre, soldiers will have the fruits and vegetables which grow around their encampment, and camp life is a poor fertilizer of that moral growth which marks the line of "meum et tuum."

This letter is written on sheets taken from the former residence of Hon. W. W. Slade, once a member of Congress from Virginia. I rode around with a foraging party. We entered his fine old mansion, and I could not but weep over the sad changes which I could see had taken place within a few hours, Within no living soul was left. The soldiers entered; for a time I stood back, but when I did go in what a sight presented itself! Already the floors were covered knee-deep with books and papers, which it must have required a long life of toil and trouble to amass, fine swinging-mirrors shivered into thousands of pieces—a fit emblem of the condition to which efforts are being made to reduce this glorious government—each piece reflecting miniature images of what the whole had shown, but never again to reflect those pigmy images in one vast whole. In the large and spacious drawing-room stood the ruins of one of those old-fashioned sideboards, around which had grown so much of the reputation of Southern high life and hospitality; its doors, wrenched from their hinges, lay scattered on the floor; large mahogany sofas, with their covers torn off, marble-top tables, stationery, china, stoves and spittoons, were there in one promiscuous heap of ruins. I stepped into the library, hoping to bring away some relic that had been untouched by the soldiers, but I was too late—all here was ruin. In a corner I picked up a few yellow pamphlets, and read "Constitution and By-Laws of the National Democratic Association." Sadly enough I left the house, and seated myself, to rest and think, on the spacious verandah. For a moment I looked on the vast orchards, the beautiful flower garden, the long rows of laden grape vines, the broad acres of corn and clover, and thought, "What a place and what a condition to pass old age in comfort and quiet," and my heart began to lighten. How momentary the lightning, for just then company after company from the different regiments came up; gates were thrown open, fences thrown down, and horses, cattle and mules were destroying all these evidences of prosperity and comfort. And this is but one feature in the great haggard countenance of war which stares at us whenever we look at Virginia's "sacred soil." Alas, poor Virginia! This subject alone would give interest to a whole volume, but I must leave it.

On Tuesday night, at half-past ten o'clock, the "long roll" brought our brigade, of five regiments, to their feet, when we found ourselves under orders to march at once for the Virginia side of the river, where, it was said, a large body of rebels had been collecting just at night. We had had slight skirmishing in that neighborhood for several days, and now the crisis was expected, and our regiment was to have a chance. All was excitement, and in half an hour from the alarm we were ready to start. By the time we arrived here it had commenced raining—we found no enemy—bivouaced for the night, and slept in the rain to the music of the tramp, tramp of infantry, and the rattling, roaring tear of artillery wagons over the roughly macademized road which passed by our encampment. Yesterday it rained all day, as if every plug had been pulled out; still we kept on our arms and ready for action—our general and brigade officers dashing about all the time, and warning us to be ready for an attack. Day before yesterday a scouting party of our brigade went in pursuit of a party of cavalry who had been seen hovering about us. When they came in sight the cavalry took to their heels, leaving to us only three large contrabands, who "tink massa oughten to run away from poor nigga so, heah! heah! They just run and leab us to de mercy of de darn abolishuns, heah! heah!" They report that around Fairfax and Centreville there are sixty or seventy regiments, who are well provisioned, but that there is a great deal of sickness among them, measles being the prevailing disease. We had, when we left Kalarama, about twenty-five in the hospital, whom we left there under the charge of Dr. There are three or four here who have sickened in consequence of exposure to the two days and two night's rain, but they will be out in a day or two. We have not yet lost a man by disease or accident, though I hear that one man yesterday received a musket ball through his cap, but as it did not hit his head it is thought he will recover. The musket was carelessly fired by some soldier in our camp.

A little occurrence to-day has caused quite a stir in our camps, and I deem it worthy to be noted here for my remembrance. Capt. Strong, of the Second Regiment of Wisconsin Volunteers, was with a small party on picket guard. He strolled away from his company, and suddenly found himself surrounded by six of the rebel pickets. Being out of reach of help from his men, he surrendered himself a prisoner. After a short consultation as to whether they should kill the "d----d Yankee" on the spot, they concluded that they would first take him into camp. They demanded his pistols, which he took from his belt and presented. But at the moment when the rebels were receiving them, they both went off, killing two of his captors on the spot. But there were four left, two on foot, two on horseback. He dashed into a pine thicket, they discharging their pieces after him and immediately giving chase. He struck into a deep hollow or ravine leading down to the Potomac. It was so precipitous that the horsemen could not follow. But when he emerged from it near the river; he found himself confronted by the two horsemen who had ridden around and reached the spot in time to head him off. He had received a shot through his canteen. Immediately on seeing his pursuers he fired again, killing one more of them, and simultaneously he received another shot through his cheek. He continued firing with his revolvers till he had made in all eleven shots. By this time the fourth man had been unhorsed. The footmen did not pursue, and he made his way into camp. This is the story, though some are so uncharitable as to discredit it, notwithstanding one hole through his canteen and another through his cheek.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 21-5

Thursday, May 9, 2024

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, September 7, 1861

On the high land overlooking the Potomac, about six or seven miles above the Navy Yard at Washington, we have, since our arrival here, thrown up a small fort, formed extensive abattis, and made redoubts and fortifications to command the turnpike leading down the river, and the bridge over which any enemy must pass from any direction above here to reach Washington. This looks like business. The earthwork fort is small, but very strong, and its large siege guns, from twelve to eighteen feet long, with their sullen faces watching up and down the road in every direction, give it a most formidable appearance. A brigade (I have not learned what one) has just advanced beyond us to commence another fort, about two miles to the southwest of us. Neither fort has yet been officially named, but the one just finished is called by the soldiers Fort Mott; the one about to be built they will for the present distinguish by the name of Fort Ethan Allen. In this manner we are closing on the enemy by slow approaches, or parallels. Let Dupont and Butler, from North Carolina, advance to meet us, whilst Fremont takes care of the Mississippi, and we shall have an early closing up of the war. Every day's observation more and more satisfies me that the enemy will not fight us here.

9 P. M.—Our fort is completed, and we have just received orders to cook three days rations, and be ready to move at a moment's notice.

I will here note, once for all, the manner of the soldiers taking care of themselves in a storm, when they have no tents. They all have "rubber blankets." Two forks are set, and a pole laid from one to the other, some four or five feet from the ground. A kind of lean-to roof is made by placing brush or poles against this, one end resting on the ground, the other end resting on the pole. To make this roof water-proof, the rubber blankets are stretched, like tiles on a roof, and no water gets through. In moderate weather the men cuddle together under this, and are reasonably comfortable. In cold weather they make large log fires in front of these "bivouacs," and pass the nights without freezing.

An order was received to-day from the War Department, that in future no labor shall be required of soldiers on the Sabbath, except what is absolutely necessary for our defence.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 25-6

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, September 10, 1861

Our regiment has received two months pay to-day, and to-night all are boisterously happy. We had been notified to have our muster-rolls ready, and we should be paid off on the first day of this month. The rolls were ready but the pay was not. We had received no pay since we entered Uncle Sam's service. We had had to use all our little private means to buy uniforms and outfit for the war, and there was not money enough in the whole regiment to pay for washing one shirt. We were all in debt, and momentarily expecting orders to march into the deserted parts of Virginia. What were we to do? We could not think of leaving so. Day before yesterday we had intimations from our commanding officers that we should remain a day or two longer where we are, and our troops who heretofore had been constantly impatient to advance, were now overjoyed at the delay, not doubting but that it was to receive our pay, and oh how many dreams of little presents to be sent home before we should be plunged into the wilderness. Perhaps some thought of photographs for sweethearts and wives. But scarcely had the joyous echoes from the rocky hills around us died away, when we were officially informed that there was no money in the treasury. It was a damper. I at once made business to the city; saw the paymaster; through him and my friends, got audience of the Secretary of the Treasury; told a story of our penury (and such a story). I got the money which the paymaster had failed to procure. To-day we have been paid off, and to-night I ride a high horse in the affections of the regiment. If they do not dismount me before their money is all expended, their constancy will be greater than my knowledge of human nature generally warrants me in expecting. We are all joyous to-night.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 26-7

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, September 11, 1861

Had some skirmishing to-day. Took some prisoners, who state that within twelve miles of us is the center of operations of about one hundred thousand rebels, who are preparing to attack us and march on Washington. This, if true, falsifies all the predictions of this journal, that there is no considerable force of the enemy in front of us, and that we shall have no general engagement here. Nevertheless, my opinion is unchanged.

This morning quite a body of troops, infantry, cavalry and artillery, passed us, on the road going in the direction of where the enemy are supposed to be. By twelve o'clock artillery firing was distinctly heard some four miles in the direction which they took. In the afternoon we were hurriedly called to march to the support of our retreating men.

We met them about two miles this side of where the fight was. They claim to have gained a great victory, but they brought in no prisoners; no guns captured. Why was that. These reports of victories are very unreliable affairs. All kinds of stories are going through the camp, but I shall record none of them till they have assumed a shape worthy to be remembered.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 27-8

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, September 12, 1861

Part of the truth relating to the story of yesterday's fight has come to light. The fact is, these "great fights," "great victories,” “great number of prisoners," "great numbers killed," are the greatest humbugs of the times, and as a specimen I put on record here the stories with the facts of yesterday. At 8 o'clock A. M. a body of soldiers passed up the turnpike. They were followed by batteries of artillery, and a few companies of cavalry. What does all this mean? was asked. And everyone wishing to be wise, an answer was soon manufactured satisfactory "to all concerned." "Four thousand infantry and artillery had passed (Lie No. 1, there were only 2,000), to take a fort about seven miles off.” (Lie No. 2, there was no fort near.) About 12 o'clock we began to hear frequent reports of artillery, and by 2 P. M. the firing was brisk, and we could see the smoke of the shells exploding in the air from four to five miles away. About 3 o'clock we got orders to march on double-quick to the support of our troops, who were said to be retreating. (Truth No. 1.) Off we went on a full run, all vieing to see who could get there first. We had gone about a mile, when we were told to push forward, that one of our regiments was surrounded and being cut to pieces. (Lie No. 3.) On we went for another half mile, when "Halt, the rebels are retreating," (lie No. 4,) and in a few minutes, "We must change our position, for the rebels were flanking us." (Lie No. 5.) A few minutes later, our officers ordered us back to camp; we had gained a great victory. (Lie No. 6.)

Now these are the generalities of statements of the "great victory" of yesterday, which are being proclaimed to-day loud-mouthed. Let me put here the particulars, that in future when I hear of our great victories, I may refer to these, and draw some conclusion as to the probability of their truth.

In the morning, about two thousand men from Gen. Smith's division, with a few pieces of artillery, passed up the pike to reconnoitre, in other words to examine the country and to ascertain what they could of the whereabouts of the enemy. They made their reconnoissance and started for camp. When they had marched about a quarter of a mile on their return, the rebels opened fire on them from a masked battery. Our artillery replied quickly and with spirit, our shot and shell mowing down hazels, oak grubs and saplings. These were all the enemy they saw. But above the heavy brush, in which the enemy's batteries were masked, the smoke from their guns could be distinctly seen, and into this brush we fired without knowing the effects of our shot, though it is said that we silenced their battery. After about an hour thus spent our force retired, with the loss of some twenty or thirty men in killed and wounded, without capturing the battery which they had silenced, or without taking time to bring away even our own killed and wounded! What a "glorious victory!" So glorious that we must rush back to camp to announce it, leaving the enemy to look after our killed and wounded! A few "such victories would ruin us." Gen. McClellan visited us to-day; made a speech, and promised us the luxury of a fight soon unless the rebels run. The appreciation of his kind promise was manifested by most unmistakable signs of joy.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 28-30

Wednesday, May 8, 2024

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, September 15, 1861

I am alone to-night, and tired enough to lie and sleep for twenty-four hours, did not the scenes around call up associations which banish repose, and yet invite it. In the deep, deep woods, in a deep, deeper valley, with a mountain rising high on either side of me, and the semi-roaring babble of a large mountain brook, leaping over stones and precipices just in front of my lonely tent; the night speaks of the wildness of nature, and carries back my imagination to the times when the red man revelled here in the luxury of his mountain hunt. The song of the catydid talks to me of the rural home of my childhood, while the scream of the screech-owl right over my head awakens mingled feelings of aboriginal wildness, and of the ruins of civilization. The night is still, and over the mountain comes the strain of vocal music, with the accompaniment of a martial band, from more than a mile away, where with a regiment of Vermonters our chaplain is holding religious exercises, and "Dundee's sacred strain," mellowed by the distance, is in harmony with all around me. These are my nearest settled neighbors to-night, and so far away that I am outside of all their guards, yet near enough to hear the "Halt! who comes there?" of the picket, as he hails the rock, loosened from above, as it comes rushing down the mountain side. The tattoo of the night drums, too, as it comes rumbling over the mountains, and calls the soldier to his hard, but welcomed bed, awakens in the reflecting mind sad stories of the passions of men; of happy homes, deserted; of families, once united, now separated, perhaps forever; of the once freeman, to whom the dungeon now denies all hope of liberty again; of a country, once a unit, which held the world at bay, now an object of the ridicule or pity of nations which but a few short months before trembled at her power; of reflections which, I fear, must convince that "war is the normal condition of man." There were threats of an attack on us yesterday and to-day. My hospital was in an exposed position, and my sick must be moved. At dark I commenced moving to a more secure place; selected this beautiful ravine; got my tents here, but not deeming it best to disturb the sick by moving them in the night, am here alone to take care of my tents and stores. And how beautifully the moon sheds its reflections over this quiet little valley, and brightens, as with myriads of diamonds, the ripplings of the little mountain streams! How deliciously sweet the fresh odor of the clean grass, untainted by the stench of the camp. But hark! I hear at this moment, from Fort Corcoran, "the three guns," a signal of approaching danger, and in another moment the "long roll" may summon us to scenes of trouble. I am still stubborn in the belief that the enemy is only making a feint, and that we shall have no fight here. The long roll does not call me. The “three guns” must have made a false alarm, and so I will retire and "bid the world good-night."

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 30-1

Saturday, March 16, 2024

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 16, 1861

I am still at Barnum's, and having transferred my sick to the charge of Mr. S., I have a little more time to think, and to journalize my thoughts. I have looked around a little to-day, and my observations have almost made me wish I had no country. When every right which freemen hold dear is at stake, to see men calculating the pecuniary cost of preserving them, sickens the heart, and shakes our confidence in human nature. When the poorer classes are laboring day and night, and exposing their lives in the cause of that government on which the rich lean for protection in the possession of their wealth, to see these loud mouthed patriotic capitalists cheating them in the very clothes they wear to battle, the soul revolts at the idea of human nature civilized into a great mass of money-makers. May we not expect, ere long, that these same patriots will be found opposing the war because it will require a tax on the riches which they shall have amassed from it, to defray its expenses? We shall see.

There must be great imbecility too, somewhere, in the management of our affairs. We are 20,000,000 of people fighting against 6,000,000.* We boast that we are united as one man, whilst our enemies are divided. Congress has voted men and money ad libitum. We boast of our hundreds of thousands of soldiers in the field, whilst the rebel army is far inferior. Yet Sumter yielded to the superiority of numbers. Pickens dares not venture out of her gates, on account of the hosts surrounding her. At Big Bethel we fought against great odds in numbers. At Martinsburg we were as one to three. At Bull Run the united forces of Beauregard and Johnston bore down on and almost annihilated our little force; whilst even in the west we see the brave Lyon sacrificed, and Sigel retreating before superior numbers. And yet we seem insecure even in the defences of our great cities. We are in daily apprehension of an attack on Washington. Baltimore is without an army. St. Louis is in danger, and even Cairo defended by a handful of men compared to the number threatening to attack her. Surely the god of battles cannot have made himself familiar to our leaders.
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* I assume that the slave population are not of those against whom we fight.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 15-6

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 19, 1861

To-day came from Baltimore and joined my regiment at Meridian Hill, where I find the whole country a vast city of camps.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 17

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 20, 1861

Reported to-day (according to requirements of army regulations) to the Medical Director for instructions. I was astonished and shocked to be met by the reply that "your assistant has been here, and reports that you have never been commissioned." How pleasant to be associated in business with gentlemen. I had no difficulty in removing the complaint, and think I have lost nothing by the motion.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 17

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 21, 1861

I sit down to-night, journal on my knee, to write by the light of a tallow candle, stuck into the mouth of a whisky bottle, (whisky all out), that "I have nothing of importance to note to-day."

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 17

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 22, 1861

I do not know but that I have the blues to-day. However that may be, it is sad to contemplate the selfishness of our officers. When I witness the political manœuvreing here, the conducting affairs for political effect at home, I am almost inclined to believe our war a humbug, and our Government a failure. I must not talk this, but I must not forget it.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 17-8

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 26, 1861

I was visited by my Colonel to-day. He introduced the subject of reducing my hospital force. I was extra-polite, and replied that I had not the slightest objection, provided it was done with the understanding that it would shift the responsibility of the care of the sick from my shoulders to those of others. The subject was dropped, and will hardly be renewed. The jealousy existing in the military towards the medical department of the army astounds me. The military commanders claiming that the medical have no authority except through them, has driven the medical officers to assume the other extreme, and claim that they are the only officers in the army who are really independent of command. This quarrel is often bitter, and makes not only themselves uncomfortably captious, but subjects the sick and wounded to suffering whilst these settle their unnecessary quarrels.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 19

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 27, 1861

On my arrival here, I found our tents pitched on ploughed ground, in a swale. The bottoms of the tents were very damp, and the mud in the streets over shoe-top. I at once set to work to correct this. I had the streets all ditched on either side, the dirt thrown into the middle, and already, instead of the mud and water streets and tents, we have them so firm, smooth and dry that they are swept every day. I hope by this, and by constant care in ventilating the tents, to arrest the rapidly increasing sickness.

Having finished the above note for the day, I have, on the point of retiring, just received an order from Gen. King to be ready to move at a minute's notice. The enemy is probably again threatening Washington. I must prepare.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 19

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 30, 1861

It is now between two and three months since our regiment went into camp. We have had nearly three hundred cases of measles, with about as many of diarrhoea, dysentery and fever. Not one quarter of the regiment but has been sick in some way, and yet last night every man who left home with the regiment slept in camp-not one death by sickness or accident, none left behind, not one lost by desertion! May we not challenge the armies of the world for a parallel? We are sleeping on our arms every night, in anticipation of an attack on Washington, and it seems to be the general belief that we shall be attacked here. I am no military man, and my opinion here is of no account to the world, but to me, for whose especial benefit it is written, it is worth as much as would be the opinion of a Napoleon. That opinion is, that we shall have no fight here—that the enemy is out-generaling us by feints to induce us to concentrate our forces here, whilst he makes a strike and overpowers us elsewhere.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 19-20

Thursday, February 22, 2024

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, July 31, 1861

On the 19th of June, 1861, the 5th Regiment of Wisconsin Vols., being partially organized, went into camp at Madison, Wis. Here it remained for a time, perfecting its organization, drilling and preparing itself for the hardships, the dangers, and the responsibilities to be encountered in the battle-field, against a people warlike and chivalric; a people who are taught to regard physical courage, and recklessness of physical danger, as the noblest qualities of the human race, and a people whose chief pride was to win in fight, whether with individuals or in masses; but a people, who, having entrusted their politics to professed politicians, were misled to believe that, by their brothers of the Northern States of this Union, their rights of property were invaded, and their homes were coveted as a prize for distribution amongst the overgrown population of the North. But to enter into a discussion of the merits of this rebellion, now devastating the most beautiful country known to man, carrying in its march a passover of beggary, of destitution, and of death, is not in accordance with the object of this little book. It is therefore passed over, that the reader may at once be permitted to enter into a detail of the subjects indicated in our preface.

From the time of the commencement of the rebellion, by actual war on Fort Sumter, in April of this year, its settlement by rapid and decisive victories over the rebels was subject of merriment, and looked on as matter of course. We were going to war with a people of not half our numbers, without money, without munitions of war, without navy, without anything in fine of those elements which go to make up the ensemble of a people powerful in war, and we were entering into the strife as a short interlude to the hum-drum vocations of life. "How could a people thus situated hope to compete with the parent Government, rich in every element which makes a great people?" This was the reasoning. In vain were our people told of the character of the Southerners. In vain were they referred to the results of our own rebellion and successful revolutionary war with England. "Oh!" was the reply, "Steamships were not known in those days, and England had to cross the ocean to fight us." "But Hungary, with its population of only 3,000,000, and without revenue, withstood the whole power of Austria, till the hordes of Russia had to be called in to aid in their subjugation." "But Austria had become a superannuated and feeble people." No reasoning would answer. The subjugation of the revolted States was to be a pastime, and could be nothing but a pastime. Thus went on matters, drilling as an amusement, preparatory to the enjoyment of a war, all the results of which were to be on our side, and obtained without sacrifice or suffering.

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On the afternoon of the 21st July, 1861, the electric wires brought us the intelligence from Bull Run that our army was whipped, was routed, was scattered in flight. The heart of the whole North received a shock of sadness and of disappointment. Soldiers in camp began to realize that war meant work and danger, and the Regiment of which I was a member at once received orders to be in readiness to march at the earliest possible moment, to hurry to the aid of its companions

in arms. It was in sad plight for the exposures of camp life. ’Twas in the heat of summer, when fevers and diarrhoea prevail in their worst forms. The measles had broken out in camp, and one-third of the soldiers were suffering from disease of some kind. Nevertheless, active preparation went on, and on the fourth day after the receipt of the sad news the Regiment was on its way to battle.

On the 27th of July we reached Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and went into Camp Curtin. For months this had been a rendezvous for regiment after regiment. The grounds had not been cleaned—the weather was intensely hot, without a leaf to intercept the scorching rays of the sun. The stench of the camp was intolerable, and the sickness of the troops rapidly increased.1

On the 29th of July, at night, we received orders to be ready to march at 3 o'clock next morning. Our destination was supposed to be Harper's Ferry, where we were at once to engage the enemy and to "wind up the war." So great was the excitement (these things were all new then) that very few laid down for rest during the night. At 3 A. M., of the 30th, all tents were struck and rolled up; mess chests were packed, and everyone ready for the order to move. But sunrise came and found us sitting on our packages. The day wore on, I think the hottest I ever experienced. The troops remained exposed to the broiling sun till 2 o'clock P. M., when we embarked on open platform cars, without seats, and without covering. We ran down through the city, crossed the Susquehannah Bridge, halted, and remained sitting or standing in the sun till evening. The heat of the day, determining the circulation to the skin, had brought out the eruption in many cases of measles, and the poor fellows had to sit and suffer, without a place to lie down, or even a back to lean against. At dusk we found ourselves again under way; ran down to York, Pa., about forty miles. It had now commenced raining, and the cars were run out from the depot, and the suffering men who had been all day washed with their own perspiration, were compelled to sit all night in the rain. Sick or well, 'twas all the same. None were permitted to leave the open cars and go back into the depot. Towards morning the rain stopped; the wind shifted suddenly to the Northwest, and it was cold as November. After the long tedious night of suffering, the morning came, and we ran down to Baltimore, arriving there at 8 o'clock on the morning of July 31st.

We had anticipated trouble here. We disembarked, marched with muskets loaded, and bayonets fixed, from north to south through the entire length of the city, without molestation, except from the scowls of secessionists, and the welcoming hurrahs of friends.2 At the Camden Street depot we remained in the most uncomfortable condition which it is possible to conceive till sunset, when we were ordered for the twentieth time during the day to "fall in." We disembarked, marched about two and a half miles, and camped on an elevated ground to the north of, and overlooking a large part of the city and bay. The regiment did not get settled till midnight, and many were so exhausted that they threw themselves on the ground, with their clothes still wet from the previous night's rain. The medical department, however, succeeded by 10 o'clock in getting up tents to protect the sick, and they were made as comfortable as the circumstances would permit.

Here the regiment remained till the 8th of August, without any occurrences worthy of note, except that sickness continued to increase, and the knowledge I gained as to how little some military commanders cared for the comfort of their sick men. After we had been here five or six days, the Colonel was positively ignorant of the fact that we had a hospital on the ground, though there were three within fifty feet of his quarters, filled to their utmost capacity with the sick and suffering. I was now receiving but little support in my efforts for their health and comfort.

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1 I made it my business to visit every tent twice a day, to see that they were thoroughly cleaned, and that the sides of the tent were raised so as freely to admit a current of air. But here the air without was so foul as to improve the condition inside but little. I will here say, however, that the Surgeon of a Regiment who does not visit every tent in his encampment at least once a day, to satisfy himself by personal inspection that it is thoroughly cleaned and ventilated, and that at least once a week the tents are all struck, and the sun admitted for several hours to the ground on which they stand, is not deserving of the position which he holds.

2 Only two companies were armed. They were placed one in front, the other in the rear of the Regiment, and so marched through the city.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 5-9

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 8, 1861

"I am monarch of all I survey." Last night, intelligence being received that an attack was expected on Washington; we were ordered to move there instanter, and at once the regiment was in motion. It got off in the course of the night, leaving me here in charge of about forty men who were too sick to be moved. I am left without provisions or money, except a few pounds of flour with which to feed and care for the sick, and the ten well ones left with me, to aid me and to look up deserters who have been left here. How am I to do it? I find a strong secession element here, and at times it is very bold. The hurrahs for Jeff. Davis are frequent, and all day the children are flaunting secession flags in our faces, and flying secession kites in our camp ground

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 10

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 9, 1861

What a wonderful effect the hardships of camp life, with the troubles and cares which they entail on a surgeon, have had on my health. For many years I have been dyspeptic. Now I can eat what I please, and go without sleep almost entirely, and suffer no inconvenience. Last night, at 11 o'clock, after having ate a piece of hard salt beef for my supper, I "cared for" a pint of rich ice cream, and feel no inconvenience from it to-day. This would kill an ordinary civil man. I have to work very hard, but feel it a great comfort to work amongst the sick without suffering from fatigue, as I have been accustomed to.

Having received an order this morning from Gen. Dix to put all my sick into general hospital, and finding them bitterly opposed, I visited Fort McHenry, saw Gen. D., and prevailed on him to rescind the order.

I was highly gratified with what I saw at Fort McHenry. It, being the first equipped fort I ever saw, was an object of much interest; its numerous cannon, large enough for a small soldier to sleep in, pointing in all directions overlooking Baltimore and guarding all the approaches to it. No matter from what direction you come, you find these monster guns looking right in your face. Low down behind the walls lie almost innumerable ugly bull-dog-looking mortars, not over two and a half feet long, loaded with a 20 to 40-pound shells filling them to the very muzzle, and ready to be vomited forth at the first approach of trouble. There, too, is the great Dahlgren, stretching its long black neck away beyond the embrasures, as if looking for an object into which to pour its monster shot and shell, or its shower of grape and cannister. Its howitzers are there, and its great Columbiads, into some of which I was strongly tempted to crawl and take a nap, but a sudden recollection of the history of Jonah reminded me that its stomach, too, might sicken, and that I might awake in a trip across the mighty deep on the wings of the wind. I didn't go in. The bright little brass 6, 8, and 10pounders, on the greater number of which Napoleon said God always smiled in battles, were conspicuous amongst these great leviathans, and above all, the newly invented rifle cannon, ready to demolish ships or houses at two to five miles distance.

Have lost no man yet from sickness, but I have one who, I fear, will not recover. He is supposed to be poisoned by a glass of lemonade, bought of a man suspected of being a rebel.

I have succeeded, by selling a half barrel of flour, and by the approval of a small requisition made on the commissary, in getting provisions of all kinds to make my little detachment comfortable.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 10-12

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 10, 1861

The poisoned soldier is very sick to-day, but I have hopes of his recovery. In a city where we have received so much kindness and attention as in Baltimore, it is painful to have to suspect anyone of so devilish an act as that of poisoning a man.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 12