Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 28, 1863

March 28, Evening.

Not yet off. Have worked enough for one day in getting our sick and wounded on the John Adams. Another steamer has arrived with additional instructions. It seems that each regiment is to return to its former camp. I suppose that this means that we are to protect the Islands while the advance is made on Charleston, if it means anything. The John Adams found the Gen. Meigs a long way up the river. They returned at noon with twelve rebel prisoners, who were caught while asleep at their station. The Lieutenant in command was permitted to say good-bye to his wife, and made his escape through the sobs and crinoline of his female friends. Colonel Montgomery admits a weak spot in his military nature. He could have shot the Lieut. while escaping, but would not do so in the presence of his wife.

Our men made a landing at Palatka and were fired into by the rebs. Lieut. Col. Billings received a ball through the fleshy margin of each hand while attempting to get off the steamer. Brave old John Quincy received one through the leg, a little above the ankle, fracturing the small bone and carrying away some of it. I shall not amputate. It seemed peculiarly trying for the old man. He had begged the privilege of going up for his wife and received a shot instead. I don't see quite how he will harmonize this double affliction with the theory he so often preaches to the men, that when one trusts in God and is not a coward, he will be protected against the bullets of his enemies. . . .

Tonight the Major and Capt. with twenty picked men, go up the river with muffled oars, to try to capture another lot of pickets. I fear they will not be successful. . . Thomas Long returned safely day before yesterday. He examined camp Finnegan, eight miles out, and went to the trestle four miles beyond, but finding it closely watched by pickets he did not attempt to burn it. I look at that man with a deep feeling of reverence.

My "Rebel" and I went, this afternoon, round the circuit of the pickets, forts, rifle pits and stockades for the last time. The pickets were playing euchre and fishing in the creek and enjoying themselves as only pickets can. I thought how much less the rebels troubled them than me. The truth is, the order to evacuate this town depresses me. I hate weak vacillation and this seems too much like the unsettled policy that all along has crippled the energy of our forces.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 382-3

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 31, 1863

March 31.

Our men are coming aboard again and we shall start for Fernandina this afternoon. Sending the men ashore was a great hit. Nearly all are in good condition. I was this morning obliged to amputate John Quincy's leg. His chances for life are only about one in three, owing to old age and impaired constitution. I am hard at work. Capt. B. treats me like a brother. I don't see how I could be better placed in this department.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 384

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, May 9, 1863

Camp near Moss Neck, Va.,        

May 9, 1863.

On Saturday morning (the 2d inst.) I received an order to ship the wounded to Richmond, store our medical supplies and follow the wagon train to Chancellorsville. I carried the chest of supplies to a large house, which Stonewall Jackson had for his headquarters, and was met at the door by a young lady who was whistling. She appeared to be quite aristocratic and was very courteous to us.

We started late in the afternoon, and I marched with the wagon train all night. It was carrying rations and did not stop once. Most of the road was through woods, but we could see well enough to march all night, and in some places there was mud, but no wagon stalled.

Just before daylight I saw a dead Yankee lying close to the right of the road. I did not know until then that there had been any fighting. I knew our command left that morning, but had heard no firing and knew nothing of what had taken place. Just as it was getting light the Yankees threw shells, which burst about the wagons, and the teamsters became excited and began whipping their horses and hurrying to get away; but a quartermaster at once commanded them to keep quiet and get away in good order, and the excitement ceased. The fighting then began just as soon as they could see.

I went on hunting for the field infirmary, and when I found it our wounded were coming back and a few had been brought back before I got there, and I at once went to work assisting in amputations, and continued at it all day and until late at night.

Jackson's men came in from the rear on Saturday night and drove the Yankees from their breastworks and occupied them that morning (Sunday, May 3). The Yankees came back early and tried to retake them, and I could hear them fighting furiously for several hours. We knew nothing of Stonewall Jackson's being shot the night before.

During the assault Colonel Edwards walked along on top of the works waving his sword to encourage his men, and was shot through the shoulder. When he was brought back I helped him out of the ambulance and expressed sympathy for him, which caused him to shed tears, but he said nothing. Colonel James Perrin was brought back shot through the body and in great agony, and General McGowan was struck below the knee while standing upon the works. I saw my brother once during the day bringing a wounded man back.

Captain McFall and Lieutenant Mike Bowers came back looking for stragglers, and found four young men who were known to be cowards, but who were always great braggarts after a battle was over. They all pretended to be sick, but I could see no indications of it, and they were marched off, but, before reaching the works, one of them slipped away, although the fighting had ended.

After all the wounded were attended to I was very tired and went to sleep late that night in a tent. I would wake up cold during the night and reach out for a jug of whiskey and take a swallow and go back to sleep again.

The next morning (Monday the 4th) we did nothing. Several handsome young Yankee surgeons in fine uniforms came over with a white flag, and I went to where they were attending to their wounded. While there I talked with a wounded man from Ohio, and saw one of our soldiers cut a forked limb from a tree and make a crutch for a Yankee who was wounded in the foot. The unfed horses of a Yankee cavalry regiment had been hitched to the trees near by and had gnawed off all the bark within their reach.

We stayed there for three days until the Yankees crossed back over the Rappahannock River, and then we marched back to Moss Neck in the daytime in peace and found our tents standing where we left them.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 50-3

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Saturday, December 14, 1861

Captain Bledsoe's Company passed Mr. West's with thirty prisoners. They also took the three that we had been guarding since the 5th. Captain Bledsoe was instructed to take the prisoners to Gainesboro and send them by steamer to Nashville. Captain Wm. L. Horn, Company B, First Battalion, went to Nashville with these prisoners. His horse fell on him while in Nashville and broke his leg, which had to be amputated, and consequently he was not with us any more.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 97

Dr. Seth Rogers to his Daughter, Sunday Evening, January 18, 1863

January 18, Sunday evening.

Such a transparent day and cool north winds make even South Carolina endurable, while it lasts, I mean. When General Hunter gets here we expect to nullify the State. . . . In our camp most curious problems present themselves, as how to keep people from scurvy without vegetables and fresh meat; how to have a good fire in tents without a fireplace, stove or ventilation; how to make bread without yeast and without oven. How to treat the sick without medicines,—how to amputate limbs without knives, — all these and many other similarly knotty questions the surgeon of the First Regiment of S. C. Vol's. has to consider, — sometimes when he ought to be sleeping. This is not said complainingly. Our men rarely complain and those jeering white soldiers who saw their firm tread in the streets of Beaufort, yesterday, must have discovered a reason for their patience, this silent waiting.

There was a Destiny in the silent, dignified bearing of our men, yesterday. I never in my life, felt so proud, so strong, so large. . . . Hurrah! Hurrah! — the Quartermaster just in with despatch from signal officer announcing arrival of the Arago, and a gun boat at Hilton head, and General Hunter has come.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 345-6

Official Reports of the Campaign in North Alabama and Middle Tennessee, November 14, 1864 — January 23, 1865: No. 175. Report of Col. Jonathan B. Moore, Thirty-third Wisconsin Infantry, commanding Third Division, of operations December 15-16 and December 20-31, 1864.

No. 175.

Report of Col. Jonathan B. Moore, Thirty-third Wisconsin Infantry, commanding Third Division,

of operations December 15-16 and December 20-31, 1864.

HEADQUARTERS THIRD DIVISION,    

DETACHMENT ARMY OF THE TENNESSEE,

In the Field, December 22, 1864.

SIR: I have the honor to submit the following report of the part taken by the Third Division, Detachment Army of the Tennessee, in the battle of December 15 and 16, at Nashville, Tenn.:

At 8 a.m. of the 15th, by order of the major-general commanding, I placed the Forty-fourth Missouri Infantry in the trenches on the Charlotte pike, with the first section of the Fourteenth Indiana Battery, the Fortieth Missouri Infantry, with the second section of the Fourteenth Indiana Battery, in the works on the Hardin pike. I then moved out on the Hardin pike with three regiments of the First Brigade, Fourteenth and Thirty-third Wisconsin and Seventy-second Illinois, Col. L. M. Ward commanding; two regiments of the Second Brigade, Ninety-fifth and Eighty-first Illinois, Col. L. Blanden commanding, and Company A, Second Missouri Light Artillery, of six guns, First Lieut. J. Zepp commanding. I formed these brigades in column by regiments, and moved forward as reserve and to support the First and Second Divisions, which were both advancing in line upon the enemy's works. At 1 p.m., by order of the major-general commanding, I ordered Col. L. M. Ward, with his brigade, to the right to support General McArthur, who, with his division, was then charging one of the enemy's forts. At about 4 p.m. Colonel Ward reported back to me, and I immediately moved my entire command forward in line, and filled up a large gap in McArthur's lines between Hubbard's and Hill's brigades, caused by Hill's brigade moving to the left. In my front I found the enemy strongly posted behind a stone fence on the Hillsborough pike, but unable or unwilling to stand for a moment against our advancing lines. In this charge my command captured between 200 and 300 prisoners and 3 pieces of artillery. Night found my entire command on the front line, driving the enemy, and about one mile beyond the Hillsborough pike, my battery, six guns, playing upon their retreating and broken ranks. Darkness put a stop to the battle. My command lay upon their arms upon their line, which I judged to be in the center, and between the First and Second Divisions, until 4 a.m. of the 16th, when, by order of the major-general commanding, I moved back to the Hillsborough pike, and to the right upon it about one mile and a half upon our extreme right to support General Cox's division, of the Twenty-third Corps. Here I remained during the day guarding the right flank.

The First Brigade had wounded: Private Lyman Fairclo, Company C, Thirty-third Wisconsin Infantry, gunshot wound in leg, slight; Private John R. Edwards, Company F, Thirty-third Wisconsin Infantry, gunshot wound in head, slight; Private George Welch, Company F, Thirty-third Wisconsin Infantry, gunshot wound in foot, slight. The Second Brigade had wounded: Sergeant Kennedy, Company A, Ninety-fifth Illinois Volunteers, cannon shot, compelling amputation of the thigh. Company A, Second Missouri Light Artillery, lost, killed by a shell, Private Simon Okley. None missing from my command. I can only account for the small loss in my command as one of the rebel prisoners did. Said he: “How could we fight? You got on our end” (i.e., flank). Company A, of the Thirty-third Wisconsin, broke through their line and charged them down their flank, perfectly enfilading their line at the stone fence.

All the regiments of my command behaved splendidly. In the charge on the Hillsborough pike all moved in line as on parade.

Col. L. M. Ward, of the Fourteenth Wisconsin, commanding First Brigade, and Col. L. Blanden, of the Ninety-fifth Illinois, commanding Second Brigade, both deserve especial notice; each handled his brigade with skill and judgment. I desire also to mention favorably the following members of my staff: Capt. J. H. Wetmore, Ninety-fifth Illinois Infantry, acting assistant adjutant-general; Capt. H. M. Bush, Ninety-fifth Illinois Infantry, aide-de-camp and picket officer; Capt. W. L. Scott, Thirty-third Wisconsin Infantry, acting assistant inspector-general; First Lieut. William McNeil, Eighty-first Illinois, ordnance officer; and Maj. L. Dyer, Eighty-first Illinois Infantry, surgeon-in-chief. Each of these officers were at all times during the two days' battle at their proper places, doing their duty bravely, gallantly.

For further particulars I refer you to the reports of my brigade commanders, which are herewith respectfully forwarded.

J. B. MOORE,                       

Colonel Thirty-third Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry,

Comdg. Third Division, Detachment Army of the Tennessee.

 Maj. J. HOUGH,

Assistant Adjutant-General, Detach. Army of the Tennessee.

ADDENDA.

Movements and operations of Third Division, Detachment Army of the Tennessee, from the 20th to the 31st of December, 1864.

December 21, in camp near Spring Hill, Tenn., were ordered to move at dark; moved out of camp, but received orders to countermarch and return to camp. December 22, marched to Duck River, and camped near river-bank. December 23, in camp near Duck River; at night, in pursuance to orders from major-general commanding corps, the Thirty-third Wisconsin Infantry Volunteers and the Seventy-second Illinois were ordered to proceed, under command of Lieut. Col. F. S. Lovell, to Columbia and take possession of the town and do provost duty and prevent marauding and pillaging. In compliance with said order Colonel Lovell moved to Columbia, took possession of the town and established an efficient provost guard, effectually preventing all irregularities. December 24, marched the infantry of the command across Duck River at 1.30 p.m.; the artillery and train were unable to cross on account of the Fourth Corps train occupying the bridge. The infantry marched four miles and a half from Columbia on the Pulaski pike, and went into camp. The regiments on duty at Columbia were relieved at 4 p.m. by a brigade of the Twenty-third Corps and immediately moved to rejoin the division. December 25, in camp all day awaiting the arrival of batteries and supply train. December 26, moved at 9 a.m.; after marching five miles, the Seventy-second Illinois Infantry, in compliance to orders received from the major-general commanding corps, were sent back to report to Captain Drew, assistant quartermaster, at Columbia. December 27, moved at 9 a.m., and camped at night near Pulaski. December 28, Seventy-second Illinois rejoined division to-day; battery and train came up; division did not move to-day. December 29, moved at 9 a.m.; marched about eight miles; camped six miles west of Pulaski. December 30, moved at 7 a.m.; passed through Lawrenceburg at 1.30 p.m.; camped at sundown five miles west of Lawrenceburg. December 31, marched at 8 a.m.; marched ten miles, and camped at 1.30 p.m.

The march for the whole ten days was very disagreeable and arduous, the weather being very inclement, and despite much suffering caused by shoes being worn out and the necessary exposure of a campaign at this season of the year, the sanitary condition of the division is very good.

Very respectfully submitted.

WM. L. SCOTT,        

Captain and Acting Assistant Inspector-General,

Third Division, Detachment Army of the Tenn.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 45, Part 1 (Serial No. 93), p. 499-501

Official Reports of the Campaign in North Alabama and Middle Tennessee, November 14, 1864 — January 23, 1865: No. 166. Report of Lieut. Col. Gustavus A. Eberhart, Thirty-second Iowa Infantry, of operations December 15-16, 1864.

No. 166.

Report of Lieut. Col. Gustavus A. Eberhart, Thirty-second Iowa Infantry,

of operations December 15-16, 1864.

HEADQUARTERS THIRTY-SECOND IOWA INFANTRY,                  

In the Field, December 21, 1864.

LIEUTENANT: Of the part taken by the Thirty-second Iowa Infantry in the battle of the 15th and 16th instant, I have the honor to report as follows:

At 6 a.m. on the 15th, in obedience to orders from brigade headquarters, I formed the regiment on the right of the brigade, with my left resting on the Fifty-eighth Illinois Infantry. The regiment advanced in line of battle for more than a mile, slowly wheeling to the left, conforming to the movement of the line on our right. From 11 a.m. until 4 p.m. we lay under artillery fire from a battery 1,000 yards in our front. When the works were carried by the forces in front we moved forward about one mile and a half, when we were ordered to go into camp for the night. The regiment was not brought into close action, and suffered no loss.

On the morning of the 16th we were again on the right of the brigade, our right resting on the left of the First Division. The advance was ordered about 7 a.m., the line wheeling to the right to confront the enemy's works. When within about 1,200 yards we came in full view of the enemy, drawing upon us a brisk fire from their battery, under which the men moved forward with commendable coolness. The First Division contracting in order to form two lines we were thrown by the flank to the right about half a mile. At this point we lay under fire of the enemy's artillery for about five hours. At 3.30 p.m. the right of the First Division carried the left of the enemy's works; we then moved forward at a double-quick over an open field, under a severe fire from artillery and musketry, and in a few minutes gained the intrenchments, capturing about 50 prisoners and 5 pieces of artillery. Some of the artillerists were killed as they were leaving the guns. Private William May, of Company H, dashed forward and captured the battery guidon. The regiment moved forward in pursuit, gathering a few prisoners, until we reached the base of the mountain, when we received orders to halt. At dark, the battle being over, we were ordered into camp near the mountain.

Too much cannot be said in praise of the conduct of the officers and men under the heavy fire during the charge; every one moved forward with a determination to carry the works.

Where all behaved so creditably it is a delicate matter to make particular mention of persons, but I presume no exceptions will be taken when I speak of Lieut. W. L. Carpenter, acting regimental adjutant, who was, as usual, conspicuous for his brave and gallant conduct in the action, and was among the first over the rebel works. Also, Capt. Theodore De Tar, commanding Company D, who, after pursuing the enemy to the mountain, was wounded in the right ankle, making an amputation necessary. This will cause the loss to the regiment of an officer who has always been esteemed for his excellent qualities as an officer and a gentleman. First Sergt. Daniel W. Albaugh, Company C, who was killed almost instantly by a minie-ball, was one of our best non-commissioned officers, and was much loved by his company as an officer and comrade. They mourn his loss deeply. My thanks are due Maj. Jonathan Hutchison for his assistance during the action.

I cannot refrain from mentioning Color-Sergt. A. J. Ellis, of Company G, who carried the standard. Although once thrown to the ground by a glancing shot he refused to give the standard to any one else, but made his way forward and was one of the first over the works. Corporal Bell, of Company G, who bore the regimental colors, was noticed for his bravery in action.

I send herewith a list of casualties* in the regiment, which is light, only because the artillery was aimed too high, and the infantry intimidated by our rapid firing as we advanced.

Very respectfully, sir, your obedient servant,

G. A. EBERHART,               

Lieutenant-Colonel, Commanding Regiment.

Lieut. W. G. DONNAN,

Acting Assistant Adjutant-General.

_______________

* Embodied in table, p. 101.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 45, Part 1 (Serial No. 93), p. 486-7

Official Reports of the Campaign in North Alabama and Middle Tennessee, November 14, 1864 — January 23, 1865: No. 150. Report of Maj. Modesta J. Green, Eleventh Missouri Infantry, of operations December 15-16, 1864.

No. 150.

Report of Maj. Modesta J. Green, Eleventh Missouri Infantry,

of operations December 15-16, 1864.

HDQRS. ELEVENTH MISSOURI VETERAN INFANTRY,      

In the Field, December 21, 1864.

SIR: I have the honor to make the following report of the part taken by the Eleventh Missouri Veteran Infantry in the late battles near Nashville, Tenn.:

On the morning of December 15 the regiment, with the brigade, left camp near Nashville, and made a reconnaissance to the right and front, skirmishing with the enemy on the Charlotte pike, then passed to the left, taking position in line of battle in front of our former position. From here we advanced in support of Captain Reed's (Second Iowa) battery until the order was received to charge the rebel fort. The charge was made in handsome style. Company E, commanded by Captain Notestine, being in the advance, in line of skirmishers, were the first to enter the fort. (Captain Notestine was afterward badly wounded and had a leg amputated.) The regiment continued to advance until the second fort was taken by the cavalry and other troops on the right. Here we were allowed to rest a few moments, when we again moved forward. After advancing a short distance we came upon the enemy in line of battle on a hill; here another charge was made, in which the rebels were completely routed, and driven in perfect confusion a distance of three-quarters of a mile, officers and men behaving most gallantly, capturing many prisoners. Night coming on we were ordered to halt and remained in line of battle during the night, throwing up temporary earth-works.

The order to advance was given at an early hour on the morning of the 16th, and the regiment, together with the brigade to which it belongs, advanced in line of battle across an open field, but soon discovered that the enemy were strongly posted on the opposite side of the field behind formidable breast-works. After advancing about a half a mile under a heavy fire from the rebel skirmishers and sharpshooters, we came within range of the enemy's fire from their line of works and were ordered to halt and remain in line of battle. After remaining here a short time the regiment was ordered to change its position and form in rear of the Fifth Minnesota. In making this move the regiment lost several men killed and wounded, being exposed to a severe fire from the entire rebel front. It was in making this move that our gallant leader, Lieutenant-Colonel Bowyer, received a severe wound in the arm while directing the movements of the regiment. We remained in this position until about 3 p.m., when the order was given to charge the rebel works. The order was no sooner given than the regiment started at a double-quick, charging through the open field for a distance of about 600 yards, under a most galling fire from the enemy. On reaching the works many prisoners were captured in the trenches, and many others either shot or captured while attempting to escape. A rebel battery of four guns was also captured here by the brigade, for which the Eleventh Missouri would respectfully claim, with the gallant brigade commander, its share of the honor. Two rebel flags were also captured by the regiment, one by Lieutenant Simmons* and the other by Corporal Parks,* color guard. In making the charge the colors of the regiment were three times shot down, having one color-bearer killed and two wounded. The flag-staff was shot into three pieces by a rebel shell. After the enemy were driven from their works we continued in pursuit for a distance of about one mile, driving them in the wildest confusion and capturing many prisoners, when we were ordered by the brigade commander to halt and join the brigade, which was forming a short distance in the rear. Here we remained until the morning of the 17th, when it was ascertained that the enemy were retreating, and we were ordered, with other troops, to follow in the pursuit.

The losses in the regiment in the two days' fighting are 4 men killed and 83 wounded, including 10 commissioned officers.

During the fight every officer and man behaved with commendable coolness and bravery. No especial mention can be made of individual acts of courage or bravery, as every officer and man behaved in the most praiseworthy manner.

M. J. GREEN,                       

Major, Commanding Regiment.

 Lieut. T. P. GERE,

Acting Assistant Adjutant General.

_______________

ADDENDA.

HDQRS. ELEVENTH MISSOURI VETERAN INFANTRY,      

 Eastport, Miss., January 20, 1865.

Maj. J. HOUGH,

Assistant Adjutant-General, Detach. Army of the Tennessee:

SIR: I have the honor to respectfully submit the following statement in regard to the rebel flag captured by Lieut. William T. Simmons,* Eleventh Missouri Infantry, at the battle near Nashville, Tenn., December 16, 1864:

The flag belonged to the Thirty-fourth Alabama Infantry, and was being borne off by the rebel color-bearer at the time our forces entered the rebel intrenchments. He was ordered by Lieutenant Simmons to halt and surrender; refusing to do so, he was told he would be shot if he did riot, when he surrendered the flag to the above-named officer.

I am, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

M. J. GREEN,                       

Major, Commanding Eleventh Missouri Infantry.

_______________

HDQRS. ELEVENTH MISSOURI VETERAN INFANTRY,      

Eastport, Miss., January 21, 1865.

 Maj. J. HOUGH,

Assistant Adjutant-General, Detach. Army of the Tennessee:

SIR: I have the honor to respectfully submit the following statement in regard to the rebel flag captured by Private G. W. Welch,* Company A, Eleventh Missouri Infantry, in the battle near Nashville, Tenn., December 16, 1864:

The flag was being borne off the field as the enemy were retreating from their works, when the rebel color-bearer was struck by a shot from our lines, and the colors captured by the above-named man. It is not known to what regiment they belonged.

I am, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

M. J. GREEN,                       

Major, Commanding Eleventh Missouri Infantry.

_______________

HDQRS. ELEVENTH MISSOURI VETERAN INFANTRY,      

Eastport, Miss., January 21, 1865.

 Maj. J. HOUGH,

Assistant Adjutant-General, Detach. Army of the Tennessee:

SIR: I have the honor to respectfully submit the following statement in regard to the rebel flag captured by Private James W. Parks,* Company F, Eleventh Missouri Infantry, at the battle near Nashville, Tenn., December 16, 1864:

The flag was captured in the enemy's line of intrenchments. The rebel color-bearer having been wounded by a shot from our lines, the colors were captured by the above-named soldier. It is not known to what regiment the flag belonged.

I am, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

M. J. GREEN,                       

Major, Commanding Eleventh Missouri Infantry.

_______________

* Awarded the Medal of Honor.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 45, Part 1 (Serial No. 93), p. 454-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 3, 1862

We lament the fall of Ewell — not killed, but his leg has been amputated. The enemy themselves report the loss, in killed and wounded, of eight generals! And Lee says, up to the time of writing, he had paroled 7000 prisoners, taken 10,000 stand of small arms, 50 odd cannon, and immense stores!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 151

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: July 3, 1862

Our wounded are now coming in fast, under the direction of the Ambulance Committee. I give passports to no one not having legitimate business on the field to pass the pickets of the army. There is no pilfering on this field of battle; no “Plug Ugly” detectives stripping dead colonels, and, Falstaff like, claiming to be made “either Earl or Duke” for killing them.

So great is the demand for vehicles that the brother of a North Carolina major, reported mortally wounded, paid $100 for a hack to bring his brother into the city. He returned with him a few hours after, and, fortunately, found him to be not even dangerously wounded.

I suffer no physicians not belonging to the army to go upon the battle-field without taking amputating instruments with them, and no private vehicle without binding the drivers to bring in two or more of the wounded.

There are fifty hospitals in the city, fast filling with the sick and wounded. I have seen men in my office and walking in the streets, whose arms have been amputated within the last three days. The realization of a great victory seems to give them strength.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 140-1

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: October 28, 1864

Very much interested lately in the hospitals; not only in our own, “the Robertson hospital,” but in Mr. –––’s, the officers’ hospital.”

He has just told me of a case which has interested me deeply. An officer from the far South was brought in mortally wounded. He had lost both legs in a fight below Petersburg. The poor fellow suffered excessively; could not be still a moment; and was evidently near his end. His brother, who was with him, exhibited the bitterest grief, watching and waiting on him with silent tenderness and flowing tears. Mr. ––– was glad to find that he was not unprepared to die. He had been a professor of religion for some years, and told him that he was suffering too much to think on that or any other subject, but he constantly tried to look to God for mercy. Mr. ––– then recognized him, for the first time, as a patient who had been in the hospital last spring, and whose admirable character had then much impressed him. He was a gallant and brave officer, yet so kind and gentle to those under his control that his men were deeply attached to him, and the soldier who nursed him showed his love by his anxious care of his beloved captain. After saying to him a few words about Christ and his free salvation, offering up a fervent prayer in which he seemed to join, and watching the sad scene for a short time, Mr. ––– left him for the night. The surgeons apprehended that he would die before morning, and so it turned out; at the chaplain's early call there was nothing in his room but the chilling signal of the empty “hospital bunk.” He was buried that day, and we trust will be found among the redeemed in the day of the Lord. This, it was thought, would be the last of this good man; but in the dead of night came hurriedly a single carriage to the gate of the hospital. A lone woman, tall, straight, and dressed in deep mourning, got quickly out, and moved rapidly up the steps into the large hall, where, meeting the guard, she asked anxiously, “Where's Captain T.?” Taken by surprise, the man answered hesitatingly, “Captain T. is dead, madam, and was buried to-day.” This terrible announcement was as a thunderbolt at the very feet of the poor lady, who fell to the floor as one dead. Starting up, oh, how she made that immense building ring with her bitter lamentations! Worn down with apprehension and weary with travelling over a thousand miles by day and night, without stopping for a moment's rest, and wild with grief, she could hear no voice of sympathy — she regarded not the presence of one or many; she told the story of her married life, as if she were alone — how her husband was the best man that ever lived; how everybody loved him; how kind he was to all; how devoted to herself; how he loved his children, took care of, and did every thing for them; how, from her earliest years almost, she had loved him as herself; how tender he was of her, watching over her in sickness, never seeming to weary of it, never to be unwilling to make any sacrifice for her comfort and happiness; how that, when the telegraph brought the dreadful news that he was dangerously wounded, she never waited an instant nor stopped a moment by the way, day nor night, and now “I drove as fast as the horses could come from the depot to this place, and he is dead and buried! — I never shall see his face again!” “What shall I do?” — “But where is he buried?” They told her where. “I must go there; he must be taken up; I must see him!” “But, madam, you can't see him; he has been buried some hours.” “But I must see him; I can't live without seeing him; I must hire some one to go and take him up; can't you get some one to take him up? I'll pay him well ; just get some men to takt him up. I must take him home; he must go home with me. The last thing I said to his children was, that they must be good children, and I would bring their father home, and they are waiting for him now! He must go; I can't go without him; I can't meet his children without him!” and so, with her woman's heart, she could not be turned aside — nothing could alter her purpose. The next day she had his body taken up and embalmed. She watched by it until every thing was ready, and then carried him back to his own house and his children, only to seek a grave for the dead father close by those he loved, among kindred and friends in the fair sunny land he died to defend. Many painfully interesting scenes occur, which I would like so much to write in my diary, but time fails me at night, and my hours of daylight are very closely occupied.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 311-4

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: June 11, 1864

Just heard from W. and S. H. Both places in ruins, except the dwelling-houses. Large portions of the Federal army were on them for eight days. S. H. was used as a hospital for the wounded brought from the battle-fields; this protected the house. At W. several generals had their head-quarters in the grounds near the house, which, of course, protected it. General Warren had his tent in the “shrubbery'”, for two days, General Burnside for a day or two, and those of lesser rank were there from time to time. General Grant was encamped at S. H. for a time. Dr. B. was at home, with several Confederate wounded from the battle of “Haw's Shop” in the house. Being absent a mile or two from home when they arrived, they so quickly threw out pickets, spread their tents over the surrounding fields and hills, that he could not return to his house, where his wife and only child were alone, until he had obtained a pass from a Yankee officer. As he approached the house, thousands and tens of thousands of horses and cattle were roaming over the fine wheat fields on his and the adjoining estate, (that of his niece, Mrs. N.,) which were now ripe for the sickle. The clover fields and fields of young corn were sharing the same fate. He found his front porch filled with officers. They asked him of his sentiments with regard to the war. He told them frankly that he was an original Secessionist, and ardently hoped to see the North and South separate and distinct nations now and forever. One of them replied that he “honoured his candour,” and from that moment he was treated with great courtesy. After some difficulty he was allowed to keep his wounded Confederates, and in one or two instances the Federal surgeons assisted him in dressing their wounds. At S. H. the parlour was used for an amputating room, and Yankee blood streamed through that beautiful apartment and the adjoining passage. Poor M. had her stricken heart sorely lacerated in every way, particularly when her little son came running in and nestled up to her in alarm. A soldier had asked him, “Are you the son of Captain Newton, who was killed in Culpeper?” “Yes,” replied the child. “Well, I belong to the Eighth Illinois, and was one of the soldiers that fired at him when he fell,” was the barbarous reply.

On these highly cultivated plantations not a fence is left, except mutilated garden enclosures. The fields were as free from vegetation after a few days as the Arabian desert; the very roots seemed eradicated from the earth. A fortification stretched across W., in which were embedded the fence rails of that and the adjoining farms. Ten thousand cavalry were drawn up in line of battle for two days on the two plantations, expecting the approach of the Confederates; bands of music were constantly playing martial airs in all parts of the premises; and whiskey flowed freely. The poor servants could not resist these intoxicating influences, particularly as Abolition preachers were constantly collecting immense crowds, preaching to them the cruelty of the servitude which had been so long imposed upon them, and that Abraham Lincoln was the Moses sent by God to deliver them from the “land of Egypt and the house of bondage,” and to lead them to the promised land. After the eight days were accomplished, the army moved off, leaving not a quadruped, except two pigs, which had ensconced themselves under the ruins of a servant's house, and perhaps a dog to one plantation; to the other, by some miraculous oversight, two cows and a few pigs were left. Not a wheeled vehicle of any kind was to be found; all the grain, flour, meat, and other supplies were swept off, except the few things hid in those wonderful places which could not be fathomed even by the “Grand Army.” Scarcely a representative of the sons and daughters of Africa remained in that whole section of country; they had all gone to Canaan, by way of York River, Chesapeake Bay, and the Potomac — not dry-shod, for the waters were not rolled back at the presence of these modern Israelites, but in vessels crowded to suffocation in this excessively warm weather. They have gone to homeless poverty, an unfriendly climate, and hard work; many of them to die without sympathy, for the invalid, the decrepit, and the infant of days have left their houses, beds, and many comforts, the homes of their birth, the masters and mistresses who regarded them not so much as property as humble friends and members of their families. Poor, deluded creatures! I am grieved not so much on account of the loss of their services, though that it excessively inconvenient and annoying, but for their grievous disappointment. Those who have trades, or who are brought up as lady's maids or house servants, may do well, but woe to the masses who have gone with the blissful hope of idleness and free supplies! We have lost several who were great comforts to us, and others who were sources of care, responsibility, and great expense. These particulars from W. and S. H. I have from our nephew, J. P., who is now a scout for General W. H. F. Lee. He called by to rest a few hours at his uncle's house, and says he would scarcely have known the barren wilderness. – The Northern officers seemed disposed to be courteous to the ladies, in the little intercourse which they had with them. General Ferrara, who commanded the negro troops, was humane, in having a coffin made for a young Confederate officer who died in Dr B's house, and was kind in other respects. The surgeons, too, assisted in attending to the Confederate wounded. An officer one morning sent for Mrs. N. to ask her where he should place a box of French china for safety; he said that some soldiers had discovered it buried in her garden, dug it up and opened it, but he had come up at this crisis an l had placed a guard over it, and desired to know where she wished it put. A place of safety of course was not on the premises, but she had it taken to her chamber. She thanked him for his kindness. He seemed moved, and said, “Mrs. N., I will do what I can for you, for I cannot be too thankful that my wife is not in an invaded country.” She then asked him how he could, with his feelings, come to the South. He replied that he was in the regular army, and was obliged to come. Many little acts of kindness were done at both houses, which were received in the spirit in which they were extended. Per contra: On one occasion Miss D., a young relative of Mrs. N's, was in one of the tents set aside for the Confederate wounded, writing a letter from a dying soldier to his friends at home. She was interrupted by a young Yankee surgeon, to whom she was a perfect stranger, putting his head in and remarking pertly, “Ah, Miss Maria Dabney, are you writing? Have you friends in Richmond! I shall be there in a few days, and will with pleasure take your communications.” She looked up calmly into his face, and replied, “Thank you; I have no friends in the Libby!” It was heard by his comrades on the outside of the tent, and Shouts and peals of laughter resounded at the expense of the discomfited surgeon. The ladies frequently afterwards heard him bored with the question “Doctor, when do you go to the Libby?”

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 276-80

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: Sunday, January 1, 1864

A melancholy pause in my diary. After returning from church on the night of the 13th, a telegram was handed me from Professor Minor, of the University of Virginia, saying, “Come at once, Colonel Colston is extremely ill.” After the first shock was over, I wrote an explanatory note to Major Brewer, why I could not be at the office next day, packed my trunk, and was in the cars by seven in the morning. That evening I reached the University, and found dear R. desperately ill with pneumonia, which so often follows, as in the case of General Jackson, the amputation of limbs. Surgeons Davis and Cabell were in attendance, and R's uncle, Dr. Brockenbrough, arrived the next day. After ten days of watching and nursing, amid alternate hopes and fears, we saw our friend Dr. Maupin close our darling's eyes, on the morning of the 23d; and on Christmas-day a military escort laid him among many brother soldiers in the Cemetery of the University of Virginia. He died in the faith of Christ, and with the glorious hope of immortality. His poor mother is heart-stricken, but she, together with his sisters, and one dearer still, had the blessed, and what is now the rare privilege, of soothing and nursing him in his last hours. To them, and to us all, his life seemed as a part of our own. His superior judgment and affectionate temper made him the guide of his whole family. To them his loss can never be supplied. His country has lost one of its earliest and best soldiers. Having been educated at the Virginia Military Institute, he raised and drilled a company in his native County of Berkeley, at the time of the John Brown raid. In 1861 he again led that company to Harper's Ferry. From that time he was never absent more than a week or ten days from his command, and even when wounded at Gaines's Mills, he absented himself but three days, and was again at his post during the several last days of those desperate fights. His fatal wound was received in his nineteenth general engagement, in none of which had he his superior in bravery and devotion to the cause. He was proud of belonging to the glorious Stonewall Brigade, and I have been told by those who knew the circumstances, that he was confided in and trusted by General Jackson to a remarkable degree.

Thus we bury, one by one, the dearest, the brightest, the best of our domestic circles. Now, in our excitement, while we are scattered, and many of us homeless, these separations are poignant, nay, overwhelming; but how can we estimate the sadness of heart which will pervade the South when the war is over, and we are again gathered together around our family hearths and altars, and find the circles broken? One and another gone. Sometimes the father and husband, the beloved head of the household, in whom was centred all that made life dear. Again the eldest son and brother of the widowed home, to whom all looked for guidance and direction; or, perhaps, that bright youth, on whom we had not ceased to look as still a child, whose fair, beardless cheek we had but now been in the habit of smoothing with our hands in fondness—one to whom mother and sisters would always give the good-night kiss, as his peculiar due, and repress the sigh that would arise at the thought that college or business days had almost come to take him from us. And then we will remember the mixed feeling of hope and pride when we first saw this household pet don his jacket of gray and shoulder his musket for the field; how we would be bright and cheerful before him, and turn to our chambers to weep oceans of tears when he is fairly gone. And does he, too, sleep his last sleep? Does our precious one fill a hero's grave? 0 God! help us, for the wail is in the whole land!" Rachel weeping for her children, and will not be comforted, because they are not." In all the broad South there will be scarcely a fold without its missing lamb, a fireside without its vacant chair. And yet we must go on. It is our duty to rid our land of invaders; we must destroy the snake which is endeavouring to entwine us in its coils, though it drain our heart's blood. We know that we are right in the sight of God, and that we must

“With patient mind our course of duty run.

God nothing does, or suffers to be done,

But we would do ourselves, if we could see

The end of all events as well as He."

The Lord reigneth, be the earth never so unquiet.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 248-50

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: December 4, 1863

On Friday last there was a severe fight on the Rapidan, at Germanna Ford. The enemy were splendidly repulsed; but my dear Raleigh T. Colston, Lieutenant-Colonel of the Second Regiment, was shot through his left leg, which was amputated on the field. I thank God that he is doing well, and feel so thankful that his life was spared! His mother was in Powhatan, on a visit to one of her daughters; but, becoming uneasy at seeing that General Edward Johnson's Division had been engaged, immediately came to Richmond. The cars arrived at night, and she came directly to our rooms. We were surprised to see her, and I, supposing that she had heard of her son's misfortune, was about to say what I could to relieve her mind, when she exclaimed, “I know that my sons are safe, from your countenance.” “Yes,” said I; “W. is safe, and R. is doing well; he was wounded in his leg.” “Severely?” she asked. “His left leg has been amputated below the knee; he is at the University, under the care of Mr. and Mrs. Minor and his sisters, and is doing remarkably well. Colonel Ruffin received a telegram to-day, and I a letter.” She passed her hand across her eyes for a minute, and said, “Thank God, his life is spared!” Next morning she left us for the University.

General Bragg has met with a repulse in the South-west, and was pursued; but, being reinforced, has again attacked the enemy and repulsed them. This occurred in the Northwestern part of Georgia. The papers say that the enemy under General Grant has retreated towards Chattanooga. Longstreet, when last heard from, was at Knoxville. Meade, on the Rapidan, after having been in line of battle for several days, has fallen back, finding that General Lee was ready to meet him.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 245-6

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: May 16, 1863

We were aroused this morning before daylight, by reports that the Yankees were making a raid, and were very near this place. We all dressed hastily, and the gentlemen went out to devise means to stop the trains which were to pass through. Though within five miles of us, they became aware that notice had been given of their purpose, and they immediately turned their steps to some more private place, where they might rob and plunder without molestation. The miserable poltroons, when on one of their raids, will become frightened by the sudden rising of a covey of partridges, and be diverted from their course; then they will ride bravely to a house, where they know they will only find women and children; order meals to be prepared; search the house; take the valuables; feed their horses at the barns; take off the horses from the stables; shoot the pigs, sheep, and other stock, and leave them dead in the fields; rob the poultry-yards; then, after regaling themselves on the meals which have been prepared by force, with the threats of bayonets and pistols, they ride off, having pocketed the silver spoons and forks, which may have unwittingly been left in their way.

I have been in Richmond for two days past, nursing the wounded of our little hospital. Some of them are very severely injured, yet they are the most cheerful invalids I ever saw. It is remarked in all the hospitals that the cheerfulness of the wounded in proportion to their suffering is much greater than that of the sick. Under my care, yesterday, was one poor fellow, with a ball embedded in his neck; another with an amputated leg; one with a hole in his breast, through which a bullet had passed; another with a shattered arm; and others with slighter wounds; yet all showed indomitable spirit; evinced a readiness to be amused or interested in every thing around them; asked that the morning papers might be read to them, and gloried in their late victory; and expressed an anxiety to get well, that they may have another “chance at them fellows.” The Yankees are said to have landed at West Point, and are thence sending out raiding parties over the country. Colonel Davis, who led the party here on the third, has been severely wounded by a scouting party, sent out by General Wise towards Tunstall's Station. It is said he has lost his leg. So may it be!

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 213-4

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: Wednesday, May 13, 1863

I have just heard that my dear nephew, Will’by N., was wounded at Chancellorsville, and that his left leg has been amputated. He is at Mr. Marye's, near Hamilton's Crossings, receiving the warm-hearted hospitality of that house, now so widely known. His mother has reached him, and he is doing well. I pray that God may have mercy upon him, and raise him up speedily, for the Saviour's sake.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 213

Captain William F. Bartlett to Lieutenant-Colonel Francis W. Palfrey, Sunday Morning, May 11, 1862

Baltimore, Sunday Morning, May 11.

I fear daily lest your kind disposition shall cause you to take too much trouble in my behalf. I know that it cannot be convenient for you to write me every day so faithfully; and much as I delight in your letters, I am distressed by the thought that you are putting yourself to too much trouble sometimes. I beg you won't feel obliged to write every day, only when it is perfectly convenient. . . .

At this point enter Dr. at “L. C.” Exeunt writing materials, etc., R. U. E., “with life.” (Patient looking very innocent.)

Dr. “Pulse a little fast this morning, probably from sitting up.”

Patient. “Yes sir, I suppose so.” (At this point enter second Dr., son of first, and the language becomes technical.). . . .

The scenes have been shifted (i. e., the bandages).

The Drs. have retired, everything is going on well. I am now at liberty to resume my writing, and make those pulse move a little faster again.

I wish I were with you this pleasant Sunday morning, or at least knew exactly where you were.

We hear of Franklin's and Sedgwick's Divisions being engaged, and are anxious for particulars, but can get none. The general report is, you were entirely victorious, with the odds against you. We shall hear soon.

I find my sword-arm is getting a little tired, and I shall have to let mother vibrate her smoothly swinging goose plume. (N. B. she writes with a quill.)

The weather is delightful and most favorable to me. I see much people, now, daily.

I wish you would ask one Hayward, in your regiment, if he intends to answer a letter that I wrote him some months since, when I was first brought here.

Give a great deal of love to the Colonel and all the fellows, and believe me as ever,

Yours most devotedly,

Frank.

News this morning that Norfolk, navy-yard and all, is taken. It may be true. All anxious to hear of your movements.    F.

P. S. Quite a long letter for the first attempt isn't it?

[Written by Harriett Plummer Bartlett, Captain Bartlett’s mother:]

P. S. Frank has left me little to say; to be truthful, his picture should be shaded a little; but he looks only on the bright side.

He is, I have no doubt, doing remarkably well; so the surgeon assures me every day. Still, he suffers intensely, at times, and this has been a very hard day for him. He has scarcely been free from pain a moment, and the worst is in the poor shattered foot and leg which is gone. He says, “Ask the Colonel if they gave my leg Christian burial, for my foot torments me as if it were ill at rest.”

I had nearly forgotten to say, that all your letters have been received, but not in the order in which they were written. The last bears date May 4, 8 P. M., and we are now anxiously looking for news from West Point, which is the last place where your Division is spoken of as being engaged.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 46-8

Harriett Plummer Bartlett & Captain William F. Bartlett to Lieutenant-Colonel Francis W. Palfrey, Thursday May 8, 1862

Baltimore, May 8, 1862.

Thursday.

When this note may reach you, or where, I have no idea, but I will “draw a bow at a venture,” knowing you will be very glad to hear of the progress of my patient. Several days have passed since I wrote, and he has been improving in general health and strength, and looking more like himself than I supposed he would in so short a time. The main cause of his troubles gives him almost constant twinges of pain, and he suffers much, although he tries to make very light of it.

Your last favor was written May 1st, but you have since been on the move, and Frank misses your cheerful, kindly missives. I had written thus far when the postman left your note of the 3d, and I have just finished reading it, and will let the one to whom it is addressed dictate his own response.

My Dear Frank, — I have just heard read your short note of the 3d, and am glad for your sake that you have the little Colonel and Major back again. I am very sorry that I did not see them when they passed through here. I expected them every time the door bell rang for three or four days. They probably had to go right through. Give my love to the Colonel; tell him I shall hope to see him before long. Remember me to the Major too. What do they do for horses? I should like to know where you are this morning. I hope your foot did not trouble you when the advance was made. Were you not taken by surprise?

Your “Fourth of July cocktail” at Pitcher's looks more practicable every day. I shall get to Boston before you, though. I will have the house got ready and the table spread against the time you come. I shall be round on crutches (doubtful) in a week, at least that is my plan. I am going to have a man here to measure me for them to-day. Like being measured for a coffin, is it not? Mother writes that last under protest.

My leg has given me a good deal of pain since yesterday, owing to its being too tightly bandaged. The last ligature is away, and it ought to heal rapidly now. The foot that is gone pains me most. It would seem that somebody made it their amusement playing “stick-knife” on it a greater part of the time. I am much better able to bear it now than when I was weak. I smoked my first cigarette day before yesterday, winning thereby a box of cigars from my cousin, who foolishly wagered that amount that I would not smoke for three weeks. Do you know it is just two weeks to-day since I “stopped” so neatly that pretty little bullet at just about this hour?  I think I am very well advanced. I wrote Little yesterday, and gave him a short lecture about his signature. How does the boy Arthur get along? You must take him under your special protection now that I am away. I guess I will resign in favor of Mother. I must get my foot into better discipline. I cannot have it going on this way. Give a great deal of love to all the fellows, and what you please for yourself, from your Frank.

The above was jerked out between spasms of dreadful pain. The surgeon has been here since, and relieved him somewhat, and assures me it is doing remarkably well.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 44-6

Lieutenant-Colonel Francis W. Palfrey to Charles L. Bartlett, April 25, 1862

Before Yorktown, Va., April 25, 1862.

C. L. Bartlett, Esq.: —

My dear Sir, — Yesterday morning the Twentieth Regiment was detailed for picket duty. Captain Bartlett went out a little before noon to visit the advanced posts. He found what he considered a good and safe position for observing the enemy. He knelt down behind a tree and watched their movements through a glass. He had been watching them some ten minutes, when he received a shot from a rifle in his left knee. A litter was sent for him and he was brought to the rear. When I got to him his color had not left him, and he was suffering only at intervals, when spasms of pain seized him for a moment, and quickly passed and left him comparatively comfortable again. His thoughtfulness for others and self-forgetfulness were shown by his repeatedly urging me to leave him, as I was suffering from a slight lameness. He was carried to a house near by, and then the surgeons gave him chloroform and examined his wound. Drs. Hayward and Crehore of the Twentieth, Dr. Haven of the Fifteenth, and Dr. Clark, a surgeon from Worcester, were unanimous in the opinion that amputation was not only proper, but necessary. I urged upon them to be sure, before proceeding, that there was no chance of recovery, and that it would not do to delay for consultation with other surgeons.

They assured me positively that there was no room for doubt, and that the operation must be performed immediately; that the ball had totally destroyed the knee joint, and shivered and destroyed the bone of the leg for six inches below; furthermore that delay would materially diminish the chances of recovery. The leg was taken off by Dr. Hayward, in the lower third of the portion above the knee. Examination made subsequently fully confirmed the opinions of the surgeons, and Brigade Surgeons Crosby and Dougherty, and Dr Liddell, Medical Director of the Division, who arrived presently, pronounced everything well and wisely done, and every one of the surgeons were of the opinion that your son had gone through the operation most favorably. He suffered a good deal after he returned to consciousness, but not to the point of faintness. His sufferings arose mostly from the necessary dressings. He bore the announcement of what had been done very firmly, and told me that he had expected it. Every exertion was made to put him at once on his way to Washington, and he presently started for York River, in a four horse ambulance, attended by Dr. Clark and my servant, who is as gentle as a woman, and who has a strong feeling of personal attachment for your son. There went with him, also, seven or eight stout fellows of his own company, to carry him on a litter, should the motion of the ambulance increase his sufferings.

His color returned soon after the operation was ended, his smile was ready and sweet, his eyes clear, the grasp of his hand and the tone of his voice firm. I hardly need tell you that he bore his fate with his own gallant spirit, and that he did not break down for a moment. His escort report that he arrived safely at the river, and was there placed on board the Commodore.

To you who know so well my opinion of your son's merits, and what close companionship has existed between us for six months, I need say little of the affliction that this event causes me. The loss to the regiment is terrible, and officers and men unite with me in lamenting the misfortune. Your son was the most brilliant soldier I have known in the Volunteer Army, and I anticipated for him the highest distinction. You have my sincerest sympathy, you and Mrs. Bartlett and your daughters, in this painful moment, and my love and admiration for your son cause me to feel the most bitter sorrow at this heavy calamity.

Very respectfully and truly yours,

F. W. Palfrey, Lieut.-Col, Comd'g.

The surgeons encourage me to believe that he will be comparatively comfortable in a day or two.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 42-4

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: June 9, 1862 - Night

General Jackson is performing prodigies of valor in the Valley; he has met the forces of Fremont and Shields, and whipped them in detail. They fought at Cross Keys and Port Republic yesterday and to-day. I must preserve his last dispatch, it is so characteristic:

Through God's blessing, the enemy, near Port Republic, was this day routed, with the loss of six pieces of artillery.

T. J. Jackson,

Major-General Commanding.

And now we are awaiting the casualties from the Valley. This feeling of personal anxiety keeps us humble amid the flush of victory. What news may not each mail bring us, of those as dear as our heart's blood? Each telegram that is brought into the hospital makes me blind with apprehension, until it passes me, and other countenances denote the same anxiety; but we dare not say a word which may unnerve the patients; they are rejoicing amid their pain and anguish over our victories. Poor fellows! dearly have they paid for them, with the loss of limb, and other wounds more painful still. They want to be cured that they may be on the field again. “Thank God,” said a man, with his leg amputated, “that it was not my right arm, for then I could never have fought again; as soon as this stump is well I shall join Stuart's cavalry; I can ride with a wooden leg as well as a real one.”

The “Young Napoleon” does not seem to be dispirited by his late reverses. The New York Herald acknowledges the defeat of the 31st, but says they recovered their loss next day; but the whole tone of that and other Northern papers proves that they know that their defeat was complete, though they will not acknowledge it. They are marshalling their forces for another “On to Richmond.” O God, to Thee, to Thee alone, do we look for deliverance. Thou, who canst do all things, have mercy upon us and help us!

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 120-1