Showing posts with label Ball's Bluff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ball's Bluff. Show all posts

Thursday, September 17, 2015

Major Wilder Dwight: October 21, 1861 – 7 p.m.


pleasant Hill, October 21, 1861, 7 o'clock, p. m.
Camp near Darnestown, for the last time!

I have just time to write you a word. I galloped up here this morning in three hours. Then had a brisk battalion drill. Then — came the news that Stone was crossing the river at Edward's Ferry. We were ordered to report to General Hamilton, changing our brigade again. That led me off to the General's head-quarters, whence I have just returned with marching orders. We go to Poolesville tonight, and cross, I suppose, to-morrow. I am no believer in a fight; but movement is life, and it seems quite like old times to be in the saddle all day, and then all night again.

My little gray mustang, which William got for me, took me to Washington briskly. I came back at a loose, free gallop. The whole division is now on the move. The men seem happy as larks. I am in the midst of questioning and orders and bustle. I cannot write any more. The Colonel calls for me. I shall give this letter to Mr. Mudge, who will tell you all about us. The Adjutant wants to pack his pen and ink, with which I am writing. Mine is all packed. Good by. Love to all."

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 119

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 23, 1861

The President is highly delighted at the result of the battle of Leesburg; and yet some of the red-tape West Point gentry are indignant at Gen. Evans for not obeying orders, and falling back. There is some talk of a court-martial; for it is maintained that no commander, according to strict military rules, should have offered battle against such superior numbers. They may disgrace Gen. Evans; but I trust our soldiers will repeat the experiment on every similar occasion.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 87

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 24, 1861

We made a narrow escape; at least, we have a respite. If the Yankee army had advanced with its 200,000 men, they would not have encountered more than 70,000 fighting Confederate soldiers between the Potomac and Richmond. It was our soldiers (neither the officers nor the government) that saved us; and they fought contrary to rule, and even in opposition to orders. Of course our officers at Leesburg did their duty manfully; nevertheless, the soldiers had determined to fight, officers or no officers.

But as the man in the play said, “it will suffice.” The Yankees are a calculating people: and if 1500 Mississippians and Virginians at Leesburg were too many for 8000 Yankees, what could 200,000 Yankees do against 70,000 Southern soldiers? It made them pause, and give up the idea of taking Richmond this year. But the enemy will fight better every successive year; and this should not be lost sight of. They, too, are Anglo-Saxons.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 87-8

Friday, July 3, 2015

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 22, 1861

We have news of a victory at Leesburg. It appears that the head of one of the enemy's columns, 8000 strong, attempted a passage of the Potomac yesterday, at that point pursuant to the programme furnished by the lady from Washington. That point had been selected by the enemy because the spies had reported that there were only three Confederate regiments there. But crossing a river in boats in the face of a few Southern regiments, is no easy matter. And this being the People's War, although Gen. Evans, in command, had received orders to fall back if the enemy came in force, our troops decided for themselves to fight before retreating. Therefore, when seven or eight regiments of Yankees landed on this side of the river, two or three of our regiments advanced and fired into them with terrible effect. Then they charged; and ere long such a panic was produced that the enemy rushed in disorder into the river, crowding their boats so much that several went to the bottom, carrying down hundreds. The result was that the head of the serpent received a tremendous bruising, and the whole body recoiled from the scene of disaster. We had only some 1500 men engaged, and yet captured 1600 muskets; and the enemy's loss, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, amounted to 2000 men. This battle was fought, in some respects, by the privates alone — much of the time without orders, and often without officers.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 87

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Major-General John Sedgwick to John A. Andrew, December 5, 1862


Washington, D. C, December 5, 1862.
To his Excellency,
John A. Andrew,
Governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts,

Governor:

In compliance with your circular of the 5th ultimo, I have the honour to submit a brief report of the operations and actions of such Massachusetts regiments as have been under my command. On the 25th of February, 1862, I assumed command of the division previously commanded by Brigadier-General Stone, at that time doing important guard duty on the upper Potomac. The 15th, 19th, and 20th Massachusetts regiments formed a part of the division, and had for the four previous months performed active and arduous duty in guarding the river. The 15th and 20th were engaged in the battle of Ball's Bluff, and are reported to have behaved with great gallantry. On the 27th of February the division was ordered to Harper's Ferry to operate with General Banks in driving the enemy out of the Shenandoah Valley. This having been successfully accomplished without a general engagement, the division was ordered to Washington to form part of the Army of the Potomac, there embarking for the Peninsula.

We landed at Hampton, Virginia, March 30, 1862, and on the 5th of April found the enemy strongly entrenched around Yorktown. The siege lasted thirty days, and although no brilliant action was fought, skirmishing and picket warfare were carried on the whole time.

After the evacuation of Yorktown, the division formed a part of the expedition, under General Franklin, ordered up the York River to seize the railroads at West Point. The enemy having attempted to interrupt the landing, the 19th and 20th were engaged in the brilliant skirmish in which the enemy was repulsed. On the 31st of May the 15th and the 20th were engaged in the great battle of Fair Oaks. The 15th, as a part of Gorman's brigade, made a brilliant bayonet charge, which routed and drove the enemy from that portion of the field, and there we bivouacked. The next morning the enemy renewed the attack, but principally on Richardson's division, and these regiments were but partially engaged. During this time the 19th was performing important duty in guarding the bridge across the Chickahominy.

From this time until the movement on James River no action was fought, but the troops were constantly engaged in reconnoissances, skirmishes, picket duty, and labour of the most arduous kind. On the 30th of June we commenced the march upon James River. This was a scene of battles and combats the whole distance. In the morning the 20th, temporarily attached to Burns's brigade, was warmly engaged at Allen's Farm with a superior force, and behaved most handsomely. In the evening the battle at Savage's Station was fought, in which the 15th, 19th, and 20th were engaged, repulsing the enemy at every point. After a long night's march across White Oak Swamp, the next day found the same regiments at Glendale (Nelson's Farm), engaged with the enemy at close quarters for three hours, routing and driving them from the field. Another day's march, and daylight found them ready for action at Malvern Hill. After this day's hard fight another night's march brought them to Harrison's Landing.

During all this — marching by night, fighting by day, without rest, and short of rations — no troops ever behaved better. On the 3rd of August these regiments formed part of the force under General Hooker which retook and held Malvern Hill. On the 16th of August the evacuation of the Peninsula was commenced. The division marched via Yorktown to Newport News, embarked for Alexandria, landed the 29th, marched to Chain Bridge, returned to Alexandria, and then marched to the relief of General Pope's army.

After its retreat on Washington, the division formed a part of the army under General McClellan ordered in pursuit of Lee, then invading Maryland. On the 15th of September the enemy was found strongly posted in the passes of South Mountain, from which he was driven with great loss. On the 17th, near Sharpsburg, was fought the battle of Antietam, where these regiments (now greatly reduced in numbers) were in the hottest of the fight, as their list of killed and wounded testifies. As I was wounded early in the action, I had no opportunity of seeing them, and have not seen the reports of the Brigadiers, but have no reason to believe their conduct different from that on all other occasions. Since that the division marched to Harper's Ferry, Warrenton, and are now in front of Fredericksburg.

I have already forwarded through the military channels a list of officers and soldiers who were distinguished for gallantry and good conduct, recommending them for promotion; and I would again commend to your Excellency Colonel Lee of the 20th, Colonel Hinks, 19th, Lieutenant-Colonel Kimball, 15th, and Lieutenant-Colonel Palfrey of the 20th. Great credit is due these officers for the splendid condition in which their regiments were prepared for the field. The 15th and 19th are in my opinion fully equal to any in the service; the 20th was badly cut up at Ball's Bluff, many officers wounded and taken prisoners, and the regiment was thereby deprived of their services.

I have on two occasions strongly recommended the appointment of Colonel Hinks as Brigadier. He disciplined and brought into the field one of the finest regiments, and has been twice wounded while gallantly leading it in battle. I again urge the appointment and respectfully ask your Excellency's favourable endorsement.

I trust your Excellency will not think me presumptuous in offering you a suggestion in regard to promotions and appointments. The system, which seems to have been adopted and carried out to a limited extent, of promoting officers who by their gallantry and good conduct have merited it, is an excellent one, and I would not confine their promotion to their own regiments. I think it adds to an officer's usefulness to place him in a regiment in which he has no acquaintances, and this holds good to a greater extent in promotions from the ranks.

I would also call your attention to the importance of filling up the old regiments. Recruits sent to these learn their duties and become acquainted with the details of camp life much sooner, while they impart new life and vigour to the old regiments.

I have the honour to be, very respectfully,

Your Excellency's obedient servant,
John Sedgwick,
Major-General Volunteers

SOURCES: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 82-7

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. to John L. Motley November 29, 1861

Boston, November 29, 1861.

My Dear Motley: I know you will let me begin with my personal story, for you have heard before this time about Ball's Bluff and its disasters, and among them that my boy came in for his honorable wounds. Wendell's experience was pretty well for a youngster of twenty. He was standing in front of his men when a spent ball struck him in the stomach and knocked him flat, taking his wind out of him at the same time. He made shift to crawl off a little, the colonel, at whose side he was standing, telling him to go to the rear. Presently he began to come right, and found he was not seriously injured. By the help of a sergeant he got up, and went to the front again. He had hardly been there two or three minutes when he was struck by a second ball, knocked down, and carried off. His shirt was torn from him, and he was found to be shot through the heart — it was supposed through the lungs. The ball had entered exactly over the heart on the left side and come out on the right side, where it was found—a Minie ball. The surgeon thought he was mortally wounded, and he supposed so, too. Next day better; next after that, wrote me a letter. Had no bad symptoms, and it became evident that the ball had passed outside the cavities containing the heart and lungs. He got on to Philadelphia, where he stayed a week, and a fortnight ago yesterday I brought him to Boston on a bed in the cars. He is now thriving well, able to walk, but has a considerable open wound, which, if the bone has to exfoliate, will keep him from camp for many weeks at the least. A most narrow escape from instant death! Wendell is a great pet in his character of young hero with wounds in the heart, and receives visits en grand seigneur. I envy my white Othello, with a semicircle of young Desdemonas about him listening to the often-told story which they will have over again.

You know how well all our boys behaved. In fact, the defeat at Ball's Bluff, disgraceful as it was to the planners of the stupid sacrifice, is one as much to be remembered and to be proud of as that of Bunker Hill. They did all that men could be expected to do, and the courage and energy of some of the young captains saved a large number of men by getting them across the river a few at a time, at the imminent risk on their own part of being captured or shot while crossing.

I can tell you nothing, I fear, of public matters that you do not know already. How often I thought of your account of the great Armada when our own naval expedition was off, and we were hearing news from all along the coast of the greatest gale which had blown for years! It seemed a fatality, and the fears we felt were unutterable. Imagine what delight it was when we heard that the expedition had weathered the gale and met with entire success in its most important object.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 216-8

Sunday, June 14, 2015

John Lothrop Motley to Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr., November 15, 1861

Vienna, November 14, 1861.

My Dear Holmes: Your letter of October 8 awaited me here. I need not tell you with what delight I read it, and with what gratitude I found you so faithful to the promises which we exchanged on board the Europa. Your poem,1 read at the Napoleon dinner, I had already read several times in various papers, and admired it very much, but I thank you for having the kindness to inclose it. As soon as I read your letter I sat down to reply, but I had scarcely written two lines when I received the first telegram of the Ball's Bluff affair. I instantly remembered what you had told me — that Wendell “was on the right of the advance on the Upper Potomac, the post of honor and danger,” and it was of course impossible for me to write to you till I had learned more, and you may easily conceive our intense anxiety. The bare, brutal telegram announcing a disaster arrives always four days before any details can possibly be brought. Well, after the four days came my London paper; but, as ill luck would have it, my American ones had not begun to arrive. At last, day before yesterday, I got a New York “Evening Post,” which contained Frank Palfrey's telegram. Then our hearts were saddened enough by reading: “Willie Putnam, killed; Lee, Revere, and George Perry, captured”; but they were relieved of an immense anxiety by the words, “O. W. Holmes, Jr., slightly wounded.”

Poor Mrs. Putnam! I wish you would tell Lowell (for to the mother or father I do not dare to write) to express the deep sympathy which I feel for their bereavement, that there were many tears shed in our little household in this distant place for the fate of his gallant, gentle-hearted, brave-spirited nephew. I did not know him much — not at all as grown man; but the name of Willie Putnam was a familiar sound to us six years ago on the banks of the Arno, for we had the pleasure of passing a winter in Florence at the same time with the Putnams, and I knew that that studious youth promised to be all which his name and his blood and the influences under which he was growing up entitled him to become. We often talked of American politics, — I mean his father and mother and ourselves, — and I believe that we thoroughly sympathized in our views and hopes. Alas! they could not then foresee that that fair-haired boy was after so short a time destined to lay down his young life on the Potomac, in one of the opening struggles for freedom and law with the accursed institution of slavery. Well, it is a beautiful death — the most beautiful that man can die. Young as he was, he had gained name and fame, and his image can never be associated in the memory of the hearts which mourn for him except with ideas of honor, duty, and purity of manhood.

After we had read the New York newspaper, the next day came a batch of Boston dailies and a letter from my dear little Mary. I seized it with avidity and began to read it aloud, and before I had finished the first page it dropped from my hand, and we all three burst into floods of tears. Mary wrote that Harry Higginson, of the Second, had visited the camp of the Twentieth, and that Wendell Holmes was shot through the lungs and not likely to recover. It seemed too cruel, just as we had been informed that he was but slightly wounded. After the paroxysm was over, I picked up the letter and read a rather important concluding phrase of Mary's statement, viz., “But this, thank God, has proved to be a mistake.” I think if you could have been clairvoyant, and looked in upon our dark little sitting-room of the Archduke Charles Hotel, fourth story, at that moment, you could have had proof enough, if you needed any fresh ones, of the strong hold that you and yours have on all our affections. There are very many youths in that army of freedom whose career we watch with intense interest; but Wendell Holmes is ever in our thoughts side by side with those of our own name and blood. I renounce all attempt to paint my anxiety about our affairs. I do not regret that Wendell is with the army. It is a noble and healthy symptom that brilliant, intellectual, poetical spirits like his spring to arms when a noble cause like ours inspires them. The race of Philip Sydneys is not yet extinct, and I honestly believe that as much genuine chivalry exists in our free States at this moment as there is or ever was in any part of the world, from the crusaders down. I did not say a word when I was at home to Lewis Stackpole about his plans, but I was very glad when he wrote to me that he had accepted a captaincy in Stevenson's regiment. I suppose by this time they are in the field.

There, you see how truly I spoke when I said that I could write nothing to you worth hearing, while I, on the contrary, should be ever hungering and thirsting to hear from you. Our thoughts are always in America, but I am obliged to rely upon you for letters. Sam Hooper promised to write (I am delighted to see, by the way, that he has been nominated, as I hoped would be the case, for Congress), and William Amory promised; but you are the only one thus far who has kept promises. I depend on your generosity to send me very often a short note. No matter how short, it will be a living, fresh impression from the mint of your mind — a bit of pure gold worth all the copper counterfeits which circulate here in Europe. Nobody on this side the Atlantic has the faintest conception of our affairs. Let me hear from time to time, as often as you can, how you are impressed by the current events, and give me details of such things as immediately interest you. Tell me all about Wendell. How does your wife stand her trials? Give my love to her and beg her to keep up a brave heart. HÅ“c olim meminisse juvabit. And how will those youths who stay at home “account themselves accursed they were not there,” when the great work has been done, as done it will be! Of that I am as sure as that there is a God in heaven.

What can I say to you of cisatlantic things? I am almost ashamed to be away from home. You know that I decided to remain, and had sent for my family to come to America, when my present appointment altered my plans. I do what good I can. I think I made some impression on Lord John Russell, with whom I spent two days soon after my arrival in England; and I talked very frankly, and as strongly as I could, to Lord Palmerston; and I had long conversations and correspondences with other leading men in England. I also had an hour's talk with Thouvenel2 in Paris, and hammered the Northern view into him as soundly as I could. For this year there will be no foreign interference with us, and I do not anticipate it at any time, unless we bring it on ourselves by bad management, which I do not expect. Our fate is in our own hands, and Europe is looking on to see which side is the strongest. When it has made the discovery, it will back it as also the best and the most moral. Yesterday I had my audience with the emperor. He received me with much cordiality, and seemed interested in a long account which I gave him of our affairs. You may suppose I inculcated the Northern view. We spoke in his vernacular, and he asked me afterward if I was a German. I mention this not from vanity, but because he asked it with earnestness and as if it had a political significance. Of course I undeceived him. His appearance interested me, and his manner is very pleasing. Good-by; all our loves to all.

Ever your sincere friend,
J. L. M.

Remember me most kindly to the club, one and all. I have room for their names in my heart, but not in this page.
_______________

1 “Vive la France.” A sentiment offered at the dinner to H. I. H. Prince Napoleon at the Revere House, September 25, 1861.

2 Minister of Foreign Affairs.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 211-6

Monday, May 4, 2015

Captain William Francis Bartlett to Harriett Plummer Bartlett, Sunday Evening, April 20, 1862

Sunday Eve.
Camp Before Yorktown, April 20, 1862.

Dear Mother: — It is just six months ago to-night since we crossed over to Harrison's Island and Ball's Bluff. We are having very hard duty just now, and shall have for some time. We are camped in the same swamp, within three quarters of a mile from the enemy's works. We have to go out every third day and picket the whole brigade, close to them. Day before yesterday we were out; we go again to-morrow. We were firing all day, whenever we saw anything to shoot at. We had one of our men badly wounded in the breast. Last night we were turned out twice by a brisk volley of musketry, which seemed just on the edge of the camp. Our pickets were driven in, and the firing lasted about fifteen minutes. Some of the bullets dropped into the camp. They were driven back without our going out. We were turned out again at two, and stood in the rain and mud. This morning we expected a quiet day, although the camp was all water and mud; raining hard. About ten, sharp firing commenced, and we had to fall in, and our two brigades were marched out to the front, where the other brigade was on picket. We expected that we were in for a fight, as Sunday is the favorite day. We lay out in the woods all day in the rain, and came in to-night without doing anything; they did not see fit to attack. We keep up a continual shelling of their works. To-morrow we take our turn again. I suppose we shall be turned out once or twice to-night; that's why I am in no hurry to go to bed, as I want to wait until after the first turn-out. I hope it won't rain to-morrow while we are out. I am fortunate in being so well, many of the officers being sick with diarrhoea.

We may have a week or more of this sort of duty before the grand attack. It is very unpleasant duty. No glory in being shot by a picket behind a tree. It is regular Indian fighting. I have not been exposed much. I got a letter from you day before yesterday. I expect to hear the rattle of musketry every minute, but I am going to try and get some sleep. This is the hard part of a soldier's life; the battle would be a holiday as a relief from this. It will be pleasant to look back on this, if I ever get back, and hear the rain beat on the cupola and think of the nights I have lain out in it in the woods, listening to the pickets firing and the shells bursting, wet and dirty. When it doesn't rain it is very hot. Night before last, I lay in the woods under the sky, without anything over me except my overcoat. The great trouble here is from wood-ticks; they get on to you and bury their head in you, and you can't pull them out without pulling their heads off, which makes a bad sore. The only way is to cut them out. I have only had one fasten on me yet, although I have stopped four or five before they got hold. These trouble us a great deal more than the rebel bullets. I must stop here, as it is getting late. It is a certain thing that we shall be turned out under arms about the time I get to sleep.

Good night. Love to all.
W.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 39-40

Monday, April 20, 2015

Edward Everett to Charles Francis Adams, October 29, 1861

BosTON, 29 October, 1861.

MY DEAR MR. ADAMS, – I had much pleasure in receiving yours of the 5th of October by the last steamer. The fair prospect, to which you allude, as produced by the prosperous turn of things here, is a little clouded by the news, which this steamer will carry to you of another reverse to our arms near Leesburg. It seems to have been a sad blundering piece of business. There is a general willingness to lay the blame on poor Colonel Baker. Les morts, aussi bien que les absens, ont toujours tort. The great naval expedition has sailed from Fortress Monroe. Its success, if it fully succeeds, will be all important, — and its failure proportionately disastrous. Mr. de Stoeckel sat half an hour with me today. He talked in the sense of Prince Gortschakoff's letter; but rather gloomily of our cause. He distrusts the ability of McClellan to handle the large army under his command, and thinks General Scott, tho’ his faculties are unimpaired, pretty nearly “used up”; – I am sorry to use that cant phrase of the noble old chief. Stoeckel says that France and England have intimated to our Government, that the domestic interests of their subjects absolutely require, that the supply of cotton should not be much longer obstructed, and that if the present state of things continues, they shall be compelled, with great reluctance, to take measures for the relief of their subjects, who, according to Stoeckel, will otherwise starve or rebel; and of course the latter. He says he knows these intimations have been made. I read to Stoeckel a part of your letter, — not of course that which you wrote in confidence. He said, a propos of the European Complications, that Prince Gortschakoff wrote him that they were numerous and grave; that Russia could not prevent their existence, but thus far had been able to prevent their leading to war; and that as this season had passed without a rupture, and Winter was at hand, Peace was sure to be preserved, at least till next year. Baron Brunnow writes to Stoeckel, that John Bull affects to weep from sympathy, when brother Jonathan cries with the tooth-ache, but chuckles in his sleeve, as poor Jonathan's teeth, with which he is accustomed to bite so hard, are pulled out by his own doctors. Mr. Seward has requested me to come to Washington to confer on some public business (he does not say what) and I shall start on Wednesday. . . .

EDWARD EVERETT.

SOURCE: Massachusetts Historical Society, Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 45: October 1911 – June 1912, November 1911 Meeting, p. 78-9

Captain William Francis Bartlett to Harriet Plummer Bartlett, Saturday Night, October 25, 1861

Camp Benton,
Saturday Night, October 25, 1861.

My Dear Mother, — . . . . I have not had time or heart to write you, who had such good news to hear, when I thought of those who could not get anything but bad tidings. I have been very busy during the whole week (which seems like one long day, or rather night), being in command of the regiment nearly all the time. To my great joy Lieutenant-colonel Palfrey returned in safety with his men Wednesday night, when all the forces were withdrawn from the Virginia shore by order of McClellan, who was here.

General Lander was brought here wounded in the leg that day, and when I went up to headquarters, I heard that McClellan had just been up to see him. It was cheering news for me, for I knew that we had by this time got four thousand men across, below our battle ground, at Edwards' Ferry, and I was in hopes some General would come who could take command.

In your letter of Sunday, which I got Wednesday, you hoped I should have a day of rest; you little thought that I should be the other side of the Potomac at two the next morning. I had neither food nor sleep from Saturday night until I got back to camp Tuesday morning. We crossed the river, Caspar and I, under command of Colonel Lee, in all one hundred men, in a whale boat that would carry sixteen, and two small boats holding five and four respectively. I went over first, and found a steep bank one hundred and fifty feet high, with thick wood on it. There was not room enough to form ten men, and the banks were so slippery that you could not stand. I formed the men in single file up the path, waiting for the Colonel and the rest of the men.

After they were all over, we wound our way up this precipice and formed on the open space above. The detachment of the Fifteenth, three hundred men, now moved up the road leading from the top of the bank inland. We were to remain there to support them, and cover their retreat. We gave the men distinctly to understand that they must stand fast if the Fifteenth came running down the road, wait till they had passed, and then cover their retreat. It looked rather dubious. The Fifteenth might get across, but we must check the advance of the enemy and get cut to pieces. We sent out scouts in all directions; three men under a sergeant composed each party.

My First Sergeant Riddle went out on our right. At this time we did not know how many of the enemy there might be within gunshot of us. It was now about sunrise, when we heard three or four shots in rapid succession on our right. In a few minutes my First Sergeant (Riddle) was brought in, shot through the elbow. He was fainting from loss of blood. We tied a handkerchief around his arm and sent him down to the river. (I might as well finish with him here. It was a sad opening for me, he was the best sergeant in the regiment, a favorite of both the Colonel and General Lander, and perfectly invaluable to me. He is now at the hospital, and I am in hopes of saving his arm; the bone is shattered; he has great pain but good spirits.) It was nearly nine when we heard a splendid volley in the direction of the Fifteenth. We knew we were in for it then. Soon wounded men were brought down the road mentioned. How large a force they had met we did not know, but we learned from the wounded that the volley was from the enemy. We expected now to see the Fifteenth falling back on us. The firing ceased and we were in suspense, thinking that they might have been surrounded, and waiting to see the enemy come down that road and sweep our hundred men into the river. We were then deployed as skirmishers across the road, Company I on the right, Caspar on the left, an opening at the road to let the Fifteenth pass through to the river, and then check their pursuers until they could get across. I never expected to see Camp Benton again, then, and I remember being sorry that my bundle had not yet come from home before I left camp, and that there would be no one there to open it when it came. I wondered what you were thinking of at the time, and was glad that you little dreamed of our critical position.

At ten A. M. Colonel Devens with his men came down the road in good order. He reported that there were three to four regiments of the enemy, besides cavalry. Our case was looking rather unpleasant, to say the least We were not attacked, the enemy fearing that we might have a larger force. They seem to refuse a fight unless you give them odds. At eleven, the remainder of the Fifteenth came over, and they went back up the road again, six hundred in all. The rest of our regiment which crossed over on to the island with us the night before, — the island, Harrison's, is midway between the two shores, low and flat, — now came over to us, making with Caspar's company and mine three hundred and eighteen. The California Regiment, of Philadelphia, now began to get over, and the prospect for a more even fight looked better. But you can imagine what a long morning it was, waiting either for reinforcements or the order to withdraw, with nothing to eat since dinner the day before. My company being deployed as skirmishers, I had given the order “Lie down,” and I myself reclined on my elbow and dozed for half an hour. I woke up and found that nearly all my skirmishers lying down had taken the opportunity to go to sleep, poor fellows. I couldn't bear to wake them until the first volley of musketry was heard from the woods near us. It shows that the boys were either indifferent to danger, or were worn out with fatigue, to go to sleep on the field, where balls were occasionally dropping in.

General Baker arrived with his regiment (California it is called, composed of Philadelphia men). He disposed the troops under his command as follows: —

The Twentieth, three hundred and eighteen men, in the open space, their right up the river. The Fifteenth, six hundred, in the edge of the woods on the right. The California Regiment, part of it, on their left, touching at right angles our right.

A part of the Tammany Regiment was placed in front of us by Baker, but I am sorry to say that after the first volley there was nobody in front of us but the enemy; they broke and fell in behind us.

The following plan will show you our position after one or two volleys had been fired on us. [See Plan.]

Well the first volley came and the balls flew like hail. You can see from our position on the plan that we were exposed to their full fire. The whizzing of balls was a new sensation. I had read so much about being under fire and flying bullets that I was curious to experience it. I had a fair chance. An old German soldier told me that he had been in a good many battles, but that he never saw such a concentrated fire before. They fired beautifully, too, their balls all coming low, within from one to four feet of the ground. The men now began to drop around me; most of them were lying down in the first of it, being ordered to keep in reserve. Those that were lying down, if they lifted their foot or head it was struck. One poor fellow near me was struck in the hip while lying flat, and rose to go to the rear, when another struck him on the head, and knocked him over. I felt that if I was going to be hit, I should be, whether I stood up or lay down, so I stood up and walked around among the men, stepping over them and talking to them in a joking way, to take away their thoughts from the bullets, and keep them more self possessed. I was surprised at first at my own coolness. I never felt better, although I expected of course that I should feel the lead every second, and I was wondering where it would take me. I kept speaking to Little, surprised that he was not hit amongst this rain of bullets. I said two or three times “Why Lit., aren't you hit yet?” I remember Macy was lying where the grass was turned up, and I “roughed” him for getting his coat so awfully dirty. Lit. was as cool and brave as I knew he would be. The different companies began to wilt away under this terrible fire. Still there was no terror among the men; they placed implicit confidence in their officers (I refer to our regiment particularly), and you could see that now was the time they respected and looked up to them. We were driven back inch by inch, towards the top of the bank. The rifled cannon was not fired more than eight times; the last time, the recoil carried it over the bank, and it went crushing through the trees, wounding many. General Baker was standing near me about four o'clock; he seemed indifferent to bullets. He said it was of no use, it was all over with us. A few minutes after, he fell, struck by eight balls all at once; so you can judge by this how thick they flew. No one took command after he fell; in fact the battle was lost some time before. At this time I came on Captain Dreher; he was shot through the head in the upper part of his cheek. I took hold of him, turned his face towards me, thought that he could not live but a few minutes, and pushed ahead. When we fell back again, he had been taken to the rear, and was got across. He is now in a fair way to recovery, the ball not striking any vital part. Lieutenants Lowell and Putnam and Captain Schmitt were now down, but were carried to the bank and taken across.

Captain John Putnam, I forgot to say, was brought down by where we were from the right, where he was skirmishing, in the very first of the fight. I remember how I envied him at getting off with the loss of an arm, and I wished then that I could change places with him. For I knew then, that we should either be killed or taken prisoners. The field now began to look like my preconceived idea of a battle field. The ground was smoking and covered with blood, while the noise was perfectly deafening. Men were lying under foot, and here and there a horse struggling in death. Coats and guns strewn over the ground in all directions. I went to the Colonel and he was sitting behind a tree, perfectly composed. He told me there was nothing to be done but “surrender and save the men from being murdered.” Most of the men had now got down the bank. I thought it over in my mind, and reasoned that we might as well be shot advancing on the enemy, as to be slaughtered like sheep at the foot of the bank.

I called for Company I for one last rally. Every man that was left sprang forward, and also about six men (all who were left) of Captain Dreher's company, and ten men of Company H under Lieutenant Hallowell, all of whom followed me up the rise. As we reached the top, I found Little by my side. We came upon two fresh companies of the enemy which had just come out of the woods; they had their flag with them. Both sides were so surprised at seeing each other — they at seeing us coming up with this handful of men, we at seeing these two new companies drawn up in perfect order, — that each side forgot to fire. And we stood looking at each other (not a gun being fired) for some twenty seconds, and then they let fly their volley at the same time we did.

If bullets had rained before, they came in sheets now. It is surprising that any one could escape being hit. We were driven back again. I had to order sharply one or two of my brave fellows before they would go back. Everything was lost now.

One of the Philadelphia papers says, “After everything was given up as lost, a captain of the Fifteenth Regiment rallied the remnants of two companies, and charged gallantly up the rise, but was driven back by overpowering numbers, after delivering a well directed volley.” So far so good. Then it says, “but seeing the hopelessness of the case, he tied a white handkerchief on his sword and surrendered himself and the remnant of his regiment.”

The officer in question did not get quite so far as the last part of the story, nor did he belong to the Fifteenth Massachusetts, . . . .

When we got back to the bank, we induced the Colonel to go down and try to escape. The Adjutant took his left arm and I his right, and we got him down the bank unhurt. Here was a horrible scene. Men crowded together, the wounded and the dying. The water was full of human beings, struggling with each other and the water, the surface of which looked like a pond when it rains, from the withering volleys that the enemy were pouring down from the top of the bank. Those who were not drowned ran the chance of being shot. I turned back and left the Colonel, to collect the remnant of my company, and when I returned he was gone. I asked for him, and they told me that he, the Major, and Adjutant had got into a small boat and gone across safely. I looked, and saw a small boat landing on the other side, and took it for granted they were safe. I then, being in command, collected what I could of the regiment, and told those who could swim, and wished to, to take the water, it was the only means of escape. Nearly all my company could swim, and I made them stop and take off their clothes. We sent over reports and messages by them. Little and I thought it our duty to stay by those men who could not swim. I allowed Macy to go, hoping that one of us might get home to tell the story. Little sent his watch over by Kelly, the bravest boy in our company, and I told him to go to Boston, and go to you and tell you that your son was probably a prisoner. What should you have said to the news? Little did you think or know what was taking place on that Monday afternoon, when

Volleys on right of us,
Volleys on left of us,
Volleys in front of us,
Battled and thundered.

I now determined to get the men out of this fire, and surrender without any more loss. I started up the river, followed by about twenty men of the Twentieth Regiment, twenty of the Fifteenth, and forty of the Tammany and California regiments. Captain Tremlett, Company A, Twentieth, Lieutenant Whittier, ditto, and Little Abbott went with me. An officer of the Fifteenth also was with the party. We followed up the edge of the river, and came to an old mill which we knew was up in this direction. It was owned and run by a man named Smart, who lived in Leesburg, so the negro told me, whom I questioned as to who was there. We expected to stumble on a party of the rebels every step. I asked him where his boat was. He wondered how I knew that they had one, and said it was up in the mill-way.

I went up there and found a skiff under water, twenty rods away from the edge of the river. It was capable of holding five persons. Those with me declared it useless and impracticable, and proposed going into the mill, get a good night's rest, and give ourselves up in the morning. I thought, though, that if I only got one load of five over, it would be worth trying; so we got it down to the river and began the transportation, expecting every minute to be discovered and fired at by the rebels. When the boat was put into the water, the whole crowd made a rush for it. I had to use a little persuasion by stepping in front of it, drew my pistol (for the first time, this afternoon), and swore to God that I would shoot the first man who moved without my order. It was the only thing that saved them. They were obedient and submissive, and avoided being shot by me or taken prisoners by the enemy. I selected five men of my own company and sent them across first, with a man to bring back the boat. So, by degrees, I got those of the Twentieth, next those of the Fifteenth (whose officer, by the way, sneaked off, got across on a raft, and left his men on my hands), and lastly those of the Tammany and California regiments. I sent Lieutenant Whittier over in the second load, to look out for the men as they came over. It was a tedious job. At last I went over with Tremlett and Little, and was once more back on the island. We thus saved eighty men and three officers from being taken prisoners. I learned afterwards that the Colonel, Major, and Adjutant were ahead of me up the river, had been to the mill, found the boat, thought it impracticable, and went on. They were afterwards taken prisoners. Lieutenant Perry and Dr. Revere were with them. We went down to the hospital opposite our battle-field, where we found the wounded being cared for. They had heard, and believed, that I was shot, and the welcome that the men gave me brought the first tears to my eyes.

I got to the Maryland side with all that I could find of my company (five men) about twelve, midnight. Then we had still that long walk down the tow-path and up to our camp from the river, where we arrived at three A. M. I got to bed pretty well tired out at half past three. When I awoke there were several waiting at my tent door for me to awake, to welcome me and congratulate me on my safe return.

On waking, I sent telegraphs to Jane by mail to send to Boston; did you get them?

By the time I was up, Colonel Palfrey had started off with the only remaining company of the regiment (Company K) to cross the river at Edwards' Ferry. He got back safe, as I told you, and relieved me from the command of the regiment.

The first night that I was here in command, I thought it best to have a dress parade as usual, both to let the men see that everything was not broken up, and to cheer them with the music. It had a very good effect. I published to them that night the following order: —


Headquarters Twentieth Regt. Mass. Vols.,
Camp Benton, October 23.
General Order No.

It is the pleasant duty of the commanding officer to congratulate the men of the Twentieth Regiment on their admirable conduct in the late battle. Your courage and bravery under a galling fire for hours was only equaled by your coolness and steadiness throughout.

He laments, with you, the loss of so many brave officers and men; but hopes, with you, that the time may soon come when we may avenge that loss.

You have established your reputation for bravery, and gained honor, though you lost the victory.

By order Commanding Officer.


The men were quite affected, and the next time the Twentieth is engaged she will leave a mark that will not be lost sight of in history.

Out of twenty-two officers that were engaged, only nine returned safe. Of three hundred and eighteen men, one hundred and forty-six were killed, wounded, or missing; a loss which, in proportion to the number engaged, you seldom see. I send you a list of officers killed, wounded, and missing, and also of Company I, as they may send to you to learn.

Col. W. Raymond Lee, missing, prisoner (unhurt).
Major P. J. Revere, missing, prisoner (unhurt).
Dr. E. H. R. Revere, missing, prisoner (unhurt).
Adj. C. L. Peirson, missing, prisoner.
Lieut. G. B. Perry, missing, prisoner.
Lieut. Wesselhoeft, missing, probably drowned.
Capt. Babo, missing, probably drowned.
Lieut. W. L. Putnam, wounded, since died.
Capt. G. A. Schmitt, wounded badly, doing well.
Lieut. Lowell, wounded slightly (flesh), doing well.
Capt. Dreher, wounded in the head, doing well.
Capt. Putnam (John), wounded (lost right arm), doing well.
Lieut. Holmes (O. W.), wounded (breast), doing well.

A sad report, but it might have been worse.

Of Company I, forty-eight men were engaged, twenty (nearly half) were killed, wounded, or missing, as follows: —

Those that are missing were either shot or drowned in the river.

First Sergt. Riddle (W. R.), wounded, right arm shattered.
Corp. Thomas Hollis, wounded (finger shot off), doing well.
Private A. M. Barber, wounded (right arm), doing well.
A. Davis, killed, shot through heart.
Thomas Dolan, wounded, finger shot off.
Lewis Dunn, missing, probably shot.
W. F. Hill, missing, probably shot.
Albert Kelly, missing, probably shot.
M. V. Kempton, missing, probably a prisoner.
Sam. Lowell, missing, probably a prisoner.
Tete McKenna (my pet and pride), missing, took the water, probably shot.
G. C. Pratt, wounded badly (will recover).
Julius Strick, wounded (right arm).
James Seddon, wounded (heel), doing well.
Albert Stackpole, wounded, since died.
George G. Worth, missing, probably shot swimming.
Summerhays, wounded slightly in the hand.
O. Gammons, wounded, finger shot off.
E. V. Skinner, missing, perhaps a prisoner.
I. Barker, missing, perhaps a prisoner.

Killed and wounded, 11; missing, 9; total loss, 20.

Worth and McKenna were two noble fellows. I was saying to Little a day or two before, how sorry I should be to have any of these men killed, in whom we took such an interest! I send you a little piece of a knot of crape which went through the fight on Monday last. It was tied on to my sword hilt the day before. Caspar had a piece on his hilt, but said that he saw it when we were marching up the tow-path, and tore it off instantly. He and I were the only captains that had crape on our swords, and were the only two that were not hit. Captain Putnam is getting along finely. Captain Schmitt will recover. He has a great deal of pain, but bears it splendidly.

Well, mother, I have written a pretty long letter, but I guess you will be interested enough to read it through. I have written of course what I should not have done to any one else, and you must not show it . My official report to General Stone was in substance like this, except, of course, the parts relating to myself, which it did not become me to speak of to any one else but you at home. I have now been through my first battle, and it was a fierce one. If we should have a campaign of ten years, we could never get in such a place where we should lose so many men or be under such severe fire. General Stone told Colonel Palfrey last night that the rebels' official report made them lose three hundred men killed and wounded, and that they had five thousand troops engaged to our sixteen hundred.

W.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 19-36

Monday, April 13, 2015

Captain William Frances Bartlett to Brigadier-General Charles P. Stone, October 23, 1861

Camp Benton, October 23, 1861.

To Gen. Stone, Commanding Corps of Observation:

General, — I have to report that one hundred men of the Twentieth Regiment crossed from Swan's (or Harrison's) island on Monday morning, October 21st, to support the detachment of the Fifteenth and cover its retreat. We climbed the steep bank, one hundred and fifty feet high, with difficulty, and took post on the right of the open space above, sending out scouts in all directions. The detachment of the Twentieth consisted of two companies, I and D, in all one hundred and two men, under command of Colonel Lee.

A little after daylight, First Sergeant Kiddle of Co. I was brought in, shot through the arm by some pickets of the enemy on the right.

At 8 A. M., a splendid volley was heard from the direction of the Fifteenth (who had advanced half a mile up the road leading from the river), and soon wounded men were brought in towards the river. We were then deployed by Colonel Lee as skirmishers, on each side of the road mentioned, leaving an opening for the Fifteenth to pass through in retreat. They fell back in good order at about 10 A. M. At 11, the other companies of the Fifteenth arrived from the island, and Colonel Devens with his command moved inland again. At this time the remaining men of the Twentieth, under Major Revere, joined us. Major Revere had during the morning brought round from the other side of the island a small scow, the only means of transportation, excepting the whale boat holding sixteen and the two skiffs holding four and five respectively, with which we crossed in the morning. At 2 o'clock, the detachment of Baker's Brigade and the Tammany Regiment had arrived, and Colonel Baker, who disposed the troops under his command. The three hundred and eighteen men of the Twentieth were in the open space, the right up the river; the Fifteenth were in the edge of the woods on the right a part of the California (Baker's) Regiment on the left, touching at right angles our right.

One company of the Twentieth under Captain Putnam was deployed as skirmishers on the right in the woods, one under Captain Crowninshield on the left. Captain Putnam lost an arm in the beginning of the engagement, and was carried to the rear. His company kept their ground well under Lieutenant Hallowell. The Fifteenth had before this, after the arrival of General Baker, fallen back the second time, in good order, and had been placed by General Baker as above mentioned. The enemy now opened on us from the woods in front with a heavy fire of musketry, which was very effective. They fired low, the balls all going within from one to four feet of the ground.

Three companies of the Twentieth were kept in reserve, but on the open ground, exposed to a destructive fire. It was a continual fire now, with occasional pauses of one or two minutes, until the last. The rifled cannon was on the left, in the open ground, in front of a part of Baker's regiment, exposed to a hot fire. It was not discharged more than eight times. The gunners were shot down in the first of the engagement, and I saw Colonel Lee carry a charge to the gun with his own hand. The last time that it was fired, the recoil carried it down the rise to the edge of the bank. The men of the Twentieth Regiment behaved admirably, and all that were left of them were on the field, after the battle was declared lost by General Baker. They acted, at least all under my command, with great coolness and bravery, and obeyed every command implicitly, and even after the intimation had been given that we must surrender in order to save the men that had been left, they cheerfully rallied and delivered a well directed fire upon two companies which we met, which had just advanced out of the woods.

We were slowly driven back by their fire in return, and covered ourselves with the slight rise mentioned above. We tried to induce the Colonel to attempt an escape, and got him down the bank unhurt. I turned to collect the remnant of my company, and when I returned to the bank, they told me that the Colonel (Lee), Major, and Adjutant had got into a small boat, and were by this time safely across. Feeling at ease then about them, I collected all that I found of the Twentieth, and gave permission to all those who could swim and wished to, to take to the water, and sent over reports and messages by them. I then ordered those of the regiment who could not swim to follow up the river, in order to get them out of the murderous volleys which the enemy were pouring down upon us from the top of the bank. About twenty of the Twentieth Regiment, twenty of the Fifteenth, and forty of the Tammany and California regiments, followed us.

We went up as far as the large mill, where I found, by means of a negro there, a small sunken skiff in the mill-way, and induced him to get it out of water and down to the river. It was capable of holding five men, and I began to send them over, expecting every minute to be discovered by the enemy. In an hour they were all over, and I crossed with Lieutenant Abbott of my company, and Captain Tremlett of Company A, Twentieth. I reported with the men at the hospital on the island. They got across to this side during the night. They were obliged to stop at the ferry and sleep out, many of them without overcoats or blankets, till morning. Out of twenty-two officers that were with us in the engagement, thirteen are killed, wounded, or missing; of three hundred and eighteen men, one hundred and forty-six are killed, wounded, or missing. The Colonel (Lee), I learned at the island, had not crossed, but I have since learned that he and his companions went farther up the river, found the boat which I afterwards used, thought it impracticable, and went on. They were (by the report of one or two men who have since come in) taken prisoners. Colonel Lee, Major Revere, Adjutant Peirson, Dr. Revere, and Lieutenant Perry are supposed to have been together. I supposed it was my duty to make this report of that part of the regiment engaged, as senior officer of those saved.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 16-9

Sunday, April 12, 2015

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, October 24, 1861

Camp Near Conrad's Ferry, Md.,
October 24, 1861.

My last letter left off rather abruptly, and as a series of exciting events has taken place since then, I will try and detail them nearly as they occurred. I left off just as Captain Curtis got back from Banks' headquarters with the good news that we were to join our regiment and march at once towards the river.* We didn't stop to strike tents or pack the wagons, but left a small squad of weak men to do it. We packed our trunks and other traps and piled them up together in our tent. At half past eight P. M., the regiment marched by so quietly that one would not have known that there were more than ten men on the road; no drum or any other music. At nine, our company was ready and started. Before we were off, we could see, by the camp fires, that the whole division had marching orders. Going at quickest time, we caught the regiment at a halt; the night was cloudy, but the moon made it quite light. At twelve thirty we got to Poolsville, distance ten miles; here we began to hear rumors of the fight; men on guard told us that the Fifteenth Massachusetts and several other regiments had been cut to pieces in crossing the river near Conrad's Ferry; one said the Fifteenth had lost seven hundred men; we disbelieved them almost entirely.

As we got nearer to the river, the stories began to get more probable, and when within two or three miles of it, to confirm them, we met numbers of wounded who said that the Twentieth and Fifteenth Massachusetts and the California and Tammany regiments were in the fight and were all more or less cut up. At about five A. M., we reached the river, distance twenty-one miles from the camp, a splendid march, made with very few halts, the men all carrying their knapsacks.
Here, as daylight came on, we began to hear the terrible truth; the houses all about us were filled with dead and wounded, and down the river about a mile, there was a temporary hospital with over a hundred men in it. Of course, my first inquiries were for my friends in the Twentieth; I could hear nothing definite. Shortly afterwards, Captain Curtis received a message from Lieutenant Willie Putnam, a splendid young fellow, saying he would like to see him. From the Major, Captain C. and others, I learned, when they came back, the following: That Colonel Lee and Major and Doctor Revere were prisoners and probably carried to Leesburgh; that Lieutenant W. Putnam was mortally wounded by a shot through the body; Captain C. saw him and said he conversed as calmly about the events of the battle as if he had been a spectator instead of an actor; he said the wound was quite painful, but by his face you would not have known it. (He died this morning.) Captain John Putnam had his arm taken off close to the shoulder by a round shot; he was brought across the river and is in the hospital. Captain Crowninshield had just swam across the river; he had fought splendidly, others say, all through the battle, had been unable to retreat with the rest, and had hid over night. He was unhurt. Poor young Holmes was badly shot through the body and arm; he and Lieutenant Lowell saw Charley Peirson, the Adjutant, fall, and ran up to attempt to bring him off; as they lifted him from the ground, they were all three shot down, Lowell through the leg. Holmes is likely to recover, Lowell is doing well, Peirson is a prisoner. George Perry is missing. Harry Sturgis, Harry Tremlett and Charley Whittier, got off safely. All of these that I have mentioned were down at Fort Independence in the Guards, and Putnam, Peirson and Tremlett were in the same mess with me. Captain Schmidt, I believe, is badly shot through the body. I am not certain about it.

My understanding of the affair is this: — Brigadier-General Baker was ordered by Brigadier-General Stone to take a certain number of regiments and cross the river at Conrad's Ferry, while he, Stone, was crossing at Edward's Ferry, five miles below, with his force. The troops were all landed on an island first, I believe; their only means of conveyance was one flat boat. Four companies of the Fifteenth crossed first, and, without waiting for reinforcements, foolishly moved forward towards Leesburgh, of course stirring up the enemy's pickets and alarming the country.

Parts of the Twentieth, Fifteenth, California and New York regiments now followed, making the whole force over the river about fifteen or eighteen hundred men and two guns. The fight, at first, was skirmishing almost entirely, the enemy being out of sight in the woods; their firing was very heavy, and it was evident, from the first, that they had numbers of sharpshooters lodged in the trees and everywhere else, to pick off the officers. Those who were there say that the Massachusetts men fought splendidly, making no confusion, and falling back perfectly orderly to the river, which they were fairly driven into, numbers drowning, others swimming to the island and Maryland shore. Of course, the great mistake of the whole affair was trying to cross an unfordable river with an insufficient force, unsupported by artillery and with no means of retreat; any one of these things would almost be sure to cause defeat. It is almost fortunate that General Baker was killed, as he would have been constantly reproached by everybody and could have hardly kept his commission. How much General Stone was to blame, no one can yet say; his orders to Baker were to cross in a discreet manner.

About the detail of the loss of the Fifteenth, I cannot say, as I know no one in it. The Colonel of it told Mr. Quint last night that he had lost near half of his regiment and twelve of his commissioned officers. The Lieutenant-Colonel lost his leg. To go back to our regiment. We were left along between the canal and the river. Early in the morning, it commenced to rain, pouring, and continued till night; we had nothing but mud to stand in and were wet and uncomfortable. At about ten A. M., I was detailed by Colonel Gordon to take a dozen good men and get a small flat boat there was up the river, and cross with it to the island to bring off a number of our men who were beckoning for aid from there. We got the boat and crossed successfully. The men were from different regiments and had hidden over night; they were very glad of the chance to get back into a friendly State. Not a Secesher made his appearance. The current was strong but the water was not very deep.

Towards night, our regiment moved a little ways back into the woods, where we pitched tents, built fires, got dry, and changed stockings, besides getting something to eat for a change. Next morning, we changed camp, moving back about two miles to get out of reach of the enemy's shells. Five of our companies were out on picket the whole of the night before, in all the rain, without fires. On arriving in camp, our company was put on guard. Just before supper time, I saw a mounted officer ride fast into camp and go up to a group where Lieutenant-Colonel Andrews was standing, and whisper something to him. Two minutes afterwards, I received an order to have the “general” beaten, which is the signal for every man to be at his quarters and strike tents; twenty minutes afterwards, the “assembly” was beaten, the line formed and immediately put in motion towards Edward's Ferry. Although the regiment was jaded, it moved off in fine shape, every one thinking we were sure of a fight. Getting near the river, we were surprised to see the camp of a large army about their usual duties, no signs of a movement. We marched straight to the river and halted for orders. The first I heard was, “Countermarch by file right, march!” The Colonel came by and said to Captain Curtis, “Where do you suppose we are going?” “I don't know.” “Back to camp!” An attack on the other side had been expected and the order had been sent to us to come on. The alarm blew over, our orders were countermanded, but by some miserable mistake, were not transmitted. We had marched six miles for nothing. We started back at ten and got into camp at twelve.

Our dead on the other side of the river were treated shamefully; every pocket was slit down and rifled and every button and shoe taken off. Probably our company goes on picket to-night at the island; if it does not, I shall go over to the Twentieth. Just heard that Captain Schmidt got four balls in his leg and side. He only feels afraid he will not be able to fight them in the next battle. He is doing well. You had better direct to General Banks' division via Washington.
_______________

* Company B had been on detached service as Provost guard for about ten days.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 25-9

Monday, March 9, 2015

Diary of Major Rutherford B. Hayes: Tuesday Morning, October 29, 1861

Camp Tompkins.  — A bright, cold October morning, before breakfast. This month has been upon the whole a month of fine weather. The awful storm on Mount Sewell, and a mitigated repetition of it at Camp Lookout ten days afterward, October 7, are the only storms worth noting. The first was unprecedented in this country and extended to most of the States. On the whole, the weather has been good for campaigning with this exception. Camp fever, typhus or typhoid, prevails most extensively. It is not fatal. Not more than four or five deaths, and I suppose we have had four or five hundred cases. Our regiment suffers more than the average. The Tenth, composed largely of Irish laborers, and the Second Kentucky, composed largely of river men, suffer least of any. I conjecture that persons accustomed to outdoor life and exposure bear up best. Against many afflictions incident to campaigning, men from comfortable homes seem to bear up best. Not so with this.

I have tried twenty cases before a court-martial held in Colonel Tompkins' house the past week. One conviction for desertion and other aggravated offenses punished with sentence of death. I trust the general will mitigate this.

We hear that Lieutenant-Colonel Matthews, who left for a stay of two weeks at home about the 18th, has been appointed colonel of a regiment. This is deserved. It will, I fear, separate us. I shall regret that much, very much. He is a good man, of solid talent and a most excellent companion, witty, cheerful, and intelligent. Well, if so, it can't be helped. The compensation is the probable promotion I shall get to his place. I care little about this. As much to get rid of the title “Major” as anything else makes it desirable. I am prejudiced against “Major.” Doctors are majors and (tell it not in Gath) Dick Corwine is major! So if we lose friend Matthews, there may be this crumb, besides the larger one of getting rid of being the army's lawyer or judge, which I don't fancy.

Colonel Baker, gallant, romantic, eloquent soldier, senator, patriot, killed at Edwards Ferry on the upper Potomac! When will this thing cease? Death in battle does not pain me much. But caught surprised in ambush again! After so many warnings. When will our leaders learn? I do not lose heart. I calmly contemplate these things. The side of right, with strength, resources, endurance, must ultimately triumph. These disasters and discouragements will make the ultimate victory more precious. But how long? I can wait patiently if we only do not get tricked out of victories. I thought McClellan was to mend all this. “We have had our last defeat, we have had our last retreat,” he boasted. Well, well, patience! West Pointers are no better leaders than others.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 126-7

Monday, February 16, 2015

Brigadier-General Thomas J. Jackson to Margaret Junkin Preston, October 23, 1861

Centreville, Oct. 23d, 1861.

My Dear Maggie, — I am much obliged for your kind letter of the 19th, and for the arrangement respecting Amy and Emma1. Please have the kindness to go to Winny Buck's occasionally, and see that Amy is well cared for, and that not only she, but also Emma, is well clothed. I am under special obligations for the religious instruction that you have given Amy, and hope that it may be in your power to continue it. Remember me to her very kindly, on the first opportunity, and say that I hope she has rich heavenly consolation. This evening I expect our own pastor and Dr. McFarland. I will send some money by Dr. White for you to use as occasion may require for Amy and Emma, and I will so manage as to keep a supply in the Rockbridge Bank, or elsewhere, subject to your order.

I have this day received a letter from your dear husband at Craney Island. The letter has reference to his coming here, and I am anxiously expecting him, though am apprehensive that he will not reach here for a week or so yet.

I heard from A. a few days since; she was at her father's, and doing well. Give my kindest regards to Mrs. Cocke.

My oft-repeated prayer is for a speedy termination of the war, by an honorable and lasting peace. God has given us another glorious victory near Leesburg.

My prayer for you is that your path may be that of the just, which shineth more and more unto the perfect day. Who would not be a Christian!

Your affectionate friend,
T. J. Jackson.
_______________

1 Slaves owned by Jackson

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 129-30

Sunday, February 8, 2015

Charles Lawrence Peirson

Charles Lawrence Peirson. who died at Boston, Jan. 23, 1920, was born in Salem, Jan. 15, 1834, the son of Dr. Abel Lawrence Peirson and Harriet (Lawrence) Peirson. He studied engineering at the Lawrence Scientific School, and after receiving the degree of S.B. in 1853, practised in Minnesota the calling of a farmer and the profession of a civil engineer. At the outbreak of the Civil War, having returned to Boston, he volunteered for service and was commissioned first lieutenant and adjutant of the Twentieth Regiment, Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry. In the first engagement of the regiment, Oct. 20,1861, at Ball's Bluff on the Potomac River, he was taken prisoner and sent to Libby Prison, Richmond, where he was confined until late in the following January. He shared in the distinguished record of his regiment, including the battles from Yorktown to Malvern Hill, and served on the staff of General Dana and that of General Sedgwick. In August, 1862, he became lieutenant colonel of the Thirty-Ninth Massachusetts Volunteers, and in July, 1864, colonel of that regiment, taking part in the operations of the Wilderness, Spottsylvania, Petersburg and the Weldon Railroad, where he was severely wounded. In March, 1865, he was commissioned brevet brigadier general United States Volunteers. After the close of the war he formed with General Robert H. Stevenson the firm of Stevenson & Peirson, iron merchants, and continued a member of this firm and of its successor, Charles L. Peirson & Co., until his retirement from business, more than ten years ago. He was also for a period of years treasurer of the Lowell Machine Shop. In 1898 he received the honorary degree of A.M. from Harvard University. He married, in 1873, Emily Russell, daughter of George R. Russell of Boston. Mrs. Peirson died in 1908. There are no children.

SOURCE: The Harvard Graduates' Magazine, Volume 28: 1919-1920, No. 111, March 1920, p. 492-3

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: Thursday, October 24, 1861

An account reached us to-day of a severe fight last Monday (21st), at Leesburg — a Manassas fight in a small way. The Federals, under General Stone, came in large force to the river; they crossed in the morning 8,000 or 10,000 strong, under command of Colonel Baker, late Senator from Oregon. They came with all the pomp and circumstance of glorious war, and rushed on as if to certain victory over our small force. “But when the sun set, where were they?” They were flying back to Maryland, that her hills might hide and her rocks shelter them. They crowded into their boats, on their rafts; multitudes plunged into the water and swam over; any thing, any way, that would bear them from “old Virginia's shore.” Our men were in hot pursuit, firing upon them incessantly, until the blue waters of the Potomac ran red with blood. It was a “famous victory,” as old Caspar would say, and I am thankful enough for it; for if they come to kill us, we must kill or drive them back. But it is dreadful to think of the dead and the dying, the widows and the orphans. Mr. William Randolph, who brought us this account, says there were between five and six hundred prisoners, a number of wounded, and 400 killed and drowned—among them Colonel Baker killed. They had no business here on such an errand; but who, with a human heart, does not feel a pang at the thought that each one had somebody to grieve for him — somebody who will look long for the return of each one of the four hundred! The account goes on to state with exultation, that we lost but twenty-seven killed. There are but twenty-seven bereaved households in the length and breadth of this Confederacy from this one fight — a great disparity, and very few considering the violence of the fight; but it is difficult to think with composure of the lacerated hearts in those twenty-seven homes!

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 69-70

Saturday, November 29, 2014

Address of Reverend James Freeman Clarke at the Funeral of William Lowell Putnam, October 29, 1861

In the fatal battle a week ago, Putnam fell while endeavoring to save a wounded companion, — fell, soiled with no ignoble dust — “non indecoro pulvere sordidum. Brought to the hospital-tent, he said to the surgeon, who came to dress his wound, “Go to some one else, to whom you can do more good; you cannot save me,” — like Philip Sydney, giving the water to the soldiers who needed it more than himself. And still more striking, as showing his earnest conscientiousness, is the fact that he refused to allow Sturgis to remove him, saying: “It is your duty to leave me. It is your duty to go to your own men, and leave me here.” And his friend was obliged to carry him away in spite of this protest.

How hard that these precious lives should be thus wasted, apparently for naught, through the ignorance or the carelessness of those whose duty it was to make due preparation, before sending them to the field! How can we bear it?

We could not bear it, unless we believed in God. But it is not any blind chance, nor yet any human folly, which controls these events. All is as God wills, who knows what the world needs, and what we need, better than we can know it. And the death of Christ has taught us that it is God's great law that the best shall be sacrificed to save the worst, the innocent suffering for the good of the guilty. This is the law, ordained before the earth was made; and every pure soul sacrificed in a struggle with evil is another “lamb slain from the foundation of the world.”

And do we not see, in these great sacrifices, that the heroism itself is already a great gain? Is it not something to know that we do not belong to a degenerate race? Is it not a great blessing to know that we also, and our sons, are still as capable as our fathers were of great and noble sacrifices, — that Massachusetts still produces heroes, — that these boys of yours, trained perhaps in luxury, can, at the call of their country, die cheerfully for their land?

SOURCE: Edwin Everett Hale, Editor, James Freeman Clarke: Autobiography, Diary and Correspondence, p. 274-5

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Diary of Reverend James Freeman Clarke: October 21, 1861

Battle of Edwards' Ferry [Ball's Bluff]. Took telegram to Dr. Holmes about his son.

SOURCE: Edwin Everett Hale, Editor, James Freeman Clarke: Autobiography, Diary and Correspondence, p. 273

Diary of Reverend James Freeman Clarke: October 29, 1861

Funeral of William Lowell Putnam.1 I spoke.
_______________

1 Who had died in the battle of Ball's Bluff.

SOURCE: Edwin Everett Hale, Editor, James Freeman Clarke: Autobiography, Diary and Correspondence, p. 273

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Diary of Josephine Shaw Lowell: October 29, 1861

We heard today various things to make us proud of Massachusetts men. A man who saw the fight at Balls Bluff says that whenever one of their number fell, he was instantly brought within the lines by some of his comrades who rushed out to get him. The men fought all the way to the line and retired in excellent order. Alice Forbes writes to Mollie: “Wendell Holmes was knocked over, but, jumping up, he waved his sword and was cheering his men on when he received another wound which disabled him. Tell his friends of his gallantry.”

SOURCE: William Rhinelander Stewart, The Philanthropic Work of Josephine Shaw Lowell, p. 21