Captain William D. Sedgwick to his Cousin, June 5, 1862

Headquarters Division,

Near Fair Oaks Station, June 5, 1862.

My dear cousin:

The General asks me to write you a short account of our recent battle, he himself being too much engrossed by the various occurrences constantly demanding his attention as commanding officer to find time to write you at sufficient length. I do it very gladly, for though it is so long since I have seen you that my recollections of you, though very pleasant, are somewhat vague, both my Aunt Catherine's great affection for you, and my own well-deserved affection for your brother the General, lead me to regard the writing to you as a very pleasant task. Saturday, about noon, a firing heavier, closer, and more sustained than that which we have been so long accustomed to hear roused us all. General Kearny, who had just stopped to make a call on the General, remounted his horse and galloped off in great haste to his own command. After the interchange of a few despatches from Heintzelman to Sumner, and Sumner to headquarters, we got under arms and marched as rapidly as possible, crossing the Chickahominy River and swamp over a bridge we had recently built, but which recent heavy rains had in great part carried away. To get through our artillery seemed impossible. Men went in up to their waists; horses floundered and fell down. Three pieces only of the leading one of our four batteries could be dragged through in time to assist in resisting the first attack that awaited us.

About four o'clock, having marched about three and one half miles over roads which, when not swamp, were all deep mud, we formed line in a bog and pushed forward on to the crest of a higher piece of ground. Our regiments were soon ranged on two sides of a rectangle facing two sides of a wood. The enemy, who had previously utterly routed Casey's division on the other side of the railroad track, driving them out of their camp and capturing many guns, advanced upon us along and through the woods, and came up in great numbers and with their best troops, including their boasted Texas Brigade and Hampton Legion, North and South Carolinians, Georgians, Mississippians, and Tennesseeans. By a little before five o'clock our whole lines were blazing, the enemy having come up to within one hundred and fifty, and in some instances, in their endeavour to take our artillery, which was doing savage execution, up to within twenty yards.

Their attack was so fierce that for a few moments we were uneasy lest our men should give way; but they held their ground as steadily as veterans and fired better than the enemy, whose attention was divided by a regard for protection of their own persons by the cover of the woods, from which, indeed, they rushed out several times, but only to fall back again. We have buried about two hundred of their dead and attended, say, one hundred of their wounded prisoners, besides capturing a considerable number. These prisoners say that Davis, Lee, Johnston, Magruder, and Floyd were all on the field near Fair Oaks Station, and had assured their troops of an easy victory. They had declared it impossible that we should succeed in crossing with any of our artillery. Magruder recognized his old battery, now commanded by Lieutenant Kirby and beautifully worked (all the pieces came up during the fight), and swore he would have it, but finally gave it up, saying, “All hell can't stand such a fire as that!” Some of the prisoners were much afraid that we would butcher them, but the greater number appeared to have learned that their newspaper accounts of our cruelties were lies, and had no fears. I have seen a good many terrible sights, bad wounds, mangled bodies, but I dare say you would not thank me for giving you any details. A regiment of another division fighting alongside of us captured an omnibus and some buggies in which some “ladies” of Richmond had driven out to see the Yankees whipped.

The next morning we expected the enemy to renew the attack with strong reinforcements, and were up after bivouacking under a tree. In the meantime Richardson's division, which followed us, and the remainder of our artillery had come up. They did not attack as early as we expected, and when they did (about half-past seven) Richardson's division bore the brunt of the fight, assisted by only a portion of General Sedgwick's command. This second battle was fought chiefly on our left, and, though very fierce, lasted but a few hours. We again drove them back, and since then they have appeared disinclined to make any general attack, though they “feel” us occasionally, but very cautiously.

Heavy rains since Sunday have rendered all the bridges below us impassable, and we have to depend upon the railroad bridge. We have now got up pretty much all our stores and effects by rail to Fair Oaks, and are ready for future developments. The ground, just now, is so universally wet and heavy that I should say no grand movement is likely to be made on either side. I need not tell you that the General rode into and through showers of bullets as imperturbably as if they were so many hailstones. Looking at him half persuaded me that there was no danger, though it seemed, now and then, as if our not being touched was almost equivalent to riding through a hail-storm without encountering a pellet. Our men behaved so well that the General and General Sumner expressed the highest satisfaction with them. Hereafter he will feel much of the same confidence in them which they so justly repose in him.

Hoping that I may have an opportunity to become reacquainted with you after this war is over,

I am, very sincerely,

Your affectionate cousin,

Wm. D. Sedgwick

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 57-62

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: July 20, 1864

Called up early, this hot, muggy morning. The 6th Corps early on the move. Watching them cross the Shenandoah River at Snicker's Ford. No enemy in sight. We follow on after the 6th Corps. As we wade the river I think it was never known to rain harder. We were soaked from head to foot. Crossing the river we filed to the right, going down the river into camp on the battlefield of the 18th, two days before. Looking over the field we were surprised to see that the enemy had not decently buried our dead who fell into their hands. Our boys gave them a decent burial.

Camp in the woods that were occupied by the enemy during the battle. Raining very hard. We build a large campfire which helps to keep us more comfortable during the night.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 102

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: June 27, 1862 – 10 p.m.

Ten o’clock at Night.—Another day of great excitement in our beleaguered city. From early dawn the cannon has been roaring around us. Our success has been glorious! The citizens — gentlemen as well as ladies — have been fully occupied in the hospitals. Kent, Paine & Co. have thrown open their spacious building for the use of the wounded. General C., of Texas, volunteer aid to General Hood, came in from the field covered with dust, and slightly wounded; he represents the fight as terrible beyond example. The carnage is frightful. General Jackson has joined General Lee, and nearly the whole army on both sides were engaged. The enemy had retired before our troops to their strong works near Gaines's Mill. Brigade after brigade of our brave men were hurled against them, and repulsed in disorder. General Lee was heard to say to General Jackson, “The fighting is desperate; can our men stand it?” Jackson replied, “General, I know our boys — they will never give back.” In a short time a large part of our force was brought up in one grand attack, and then the enemy was utterly routed. General C. represents the valour of Hood and his brigade in the liveliest colours, and attributes the grand success at the close of the day greatly to their extraordinary gallantry. The works were the strongest ever seen in this country, and General C. says that the armies of the world could not have driven our men from them.

Another bulletin from the young surgeon of the Fortieth. That noble regiment has lost heavily — several of the "Potomac Rifles" among the slain—sons of old friends and acquaintances. E. B., dreadfully wounded, has been brought in, and is tenderly nursed. Our own boys are mercifully spared. Visions of the battle-field have haunted me all day. Our loved ones, whether friends or strangers — all Southern soldiers are dear to us — lying dead and dying; the wounded in the hot sun, the dead being hastily buried. McClellan is said to be retreating. “Praise the Lord, O my soul!”

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 125-6

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: June 2, 1862

A battle¹ is said to be raging round Richmond. I am at the Prestons’. James Chesnut has gone to Richmond suddenly on business of the Military Department. It is always his luck to arrive in the nick of time and be present at a great battle.

Wade Hampton shot in the foot, and Johnston Pettigrew killed. A telegram says Lee and Davis were both on the field: the enemy being repulsed. Telegraph operator said: “Madam, our men are fighting.” “Of course they are. What else is there for them to do now but fight?” “But, madam, the news is encouraging.” Each army is burying its dead: that looks like a drawn battle. We haunt the bulletin-board.

Back to McMahan's. Mem Cohen is ill. Her daughter, Isabel, warns me not to mention the battle raging around Richmond. Young Cohen is in it. Mrs. Preston, anxious and unhappy about her sons. John is with General Huger at Richmond; Willie in the swamps on the coast with his company. Mem tells me her cousin, Edwin de Leon, is sent by Mr. Davis on a mission to England.

Rev. Robert Barnwell has returned to the hospital. Oh, that we had given our thousand dollars to the hospital and not to the gunboat! “Stonewall Jackson's movements,” the Herald says, “do us no harm; it is bringing out volunteers in great numbers.” And a Philadelphia paper abused us so fervently I felt all the blood in me rush to my head with rage.

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¹ The Battle of Fair Oaks or Seven Pines, took place a few miles east of Richmond, on May 31 and June 1, 1862, the Federals being commanded by McClellan and the Confederates by General Joseph E. Johnston.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 171

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: May 17, 1862

With what different feelings do I make a record in this little note book today, from last Saturday! Last night my husband, almost without any warning, (none, except that we heard Jackson had relieved the corps from farther duty, and they were soon to return), stepped in upon us just as tea was over. What a welcome we gave him! I do thank God for his mercy in having fulfilled my petitions, as I would fain hope, in restoring to me safe my precious husband. He was not in the battle at McDowell, though they marched 40 miles in one day in order to come up in time. The fight was just over, but he was left in charge of the battle field, helped to bury the dead, and saw the wounded borne off the field; the Southerners lost some 60 or 70 killed, and some 280 wounded; about 340 he certainly thinks in all. What the Federal loss was he could not tell. The Confederates buried about 40 of them, and the country people around say that multitudes of wagon-loads of dead and wounded were carried away. As the Confederates pursued, they came upon many graves just filled up, but how many were in them of course they could not tell. It seemed awfully unfeeling to hear Mr. P. say that they took off the dead men's shoes before burying them, and in one instance a soldier applied to him for leave to wear them. He stopped one soldier who was cutting buttons off a dead Federal's coat. (Buttons are a scarce article in the Confederacy!) The corps of cadets could not get the permission of the Board of Visitors to continue in the service, or they would have gone on with Jackson's army, as he desired them to do. This accounts for their return.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 140-1

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, August 1, 1864

August 1, 1864

I waked at about six in the morning and heard the General say, “Very well, then, let the truce be from five to nine.” Whereby I knew that Beauregard had agreed to a cessation of hostilities for the burial of the dead and relief of the wounded. After struggling awhile with my indolence, I tumbled out of bed, waked Rosencrantz and ordered my horse. We speedily got ready and sallied forth to look at the field. We rode into a piece of pine woods, at the corner of which I was during the assault of the 18th of June. Some of the advanced camps were here, the danger of their position being plainly marked by the banks of earth put up by each tent. Getting out of the wood, we came on an open tract, a good deal elevated. Here, on the left, and by the ruins of a house was a heavy battery, known as the Taylor house battery. And here too begins the “covered way.” Before I saw real operations I never could understand the management of cannon. On the principle of your battle on “the great white plain,” I had an idea that all the guns were put in the front line: else how could they hit anybody? But really there are often no cannon at all there, all being placed in a second or a third line, or in isolated batteries in these relative positions. One of our heavy siege guns would sometimes have to fire as many as 1700 yards to hit the enemy's breastwork. You see that cannon-shot must rise high in the air to go any distance; so they fire over each other's heads. In practice this system is not without its dangers, owing to the imperfections of shells. In spite of the great advances, much remains to be done in the fuses of shells; as it is, not a battle is fought that some of our men are not killed by shells exploding short and hitting our troops instead of the enemy's, beyond. Sometimes it is the fuse that is imperfect, sometimes the artillerists lose their heads and make wrong estimates of distance. From these blunders very valuable officers have lost their lives. Prudent commanders, when there is any doubt, fire only solid shot, which do not explode, and do excellent service in bounding over the ground.

We got off our horses at the edge of the wood and took to the covered way (we might better have ridden). A covered way is singularly named, as it is open on top. It is simply a trench, about four feet wide, with the dirt thrown up on the side towards the enemy. It should be deep enough to cover a man standing upright. The great thing is, so to run it that the enemy cannot get a sight of it lengthwise, as they could then enfilade it. To this end the way is run zig-zag, and advantage is taken of every hollow, or knoll, that may afford shelter. I was not impressed with the first part of our covered way, as it could be shot into in many places, and was so shallow that it covered me no higher than the shoulders. Probably it was dug by a small officer who was spiteful against men of great inches. . . . We scrambled up the opposite steep bank and stood at the high breastwork of Burnside's advanced salient. The parapet was crowded with troops, looking silently at the scene of the late struggle. We got also on the parapet and at once saw everything. Opposite, and a little above us, distant about 350 feet, was the rough edge of the crater, made by the mine. There were piles of gravel and of sand, and shapeless masses of hard clay, all tumbled on top of each other. Upon the ridge thus formed, and upon the remains of the breastwork, stood crowds of Rebel soldiers in their slouched hats and ghostly grey uniforms. Really they looked like malevolent spirits, towering to an unnatural height against the sky. Each party had a line of sentries close to his works, and, in the midst, stood an officer with a white flag, where the burial parties were at work.¹ I jumped down and passed towards the enemy's line, where only officers were allowed to go, with the details for work. I do not make a practice of describing disagreeable spectacles, and will only say that I can never again see anything more horrible than this glacis before the mine. It did not take long to satisfy our curiosity, and we returned to camp, getting in just as the General was at breakfast. He takes his disappointments before Petersburg in an excellent spirit; and, when the “Herald” this morning said he was to be relieved and not to have another command, he laughed and said: “Oh, that's bad; that's very bad! I should have to go and live in that house in Philadelphia; ha! ha! ha!” The papers will tell you that Grant has gone to Washington. As I don't know what for, I can make Yankee guesses. I presume our father Abraham looks on his election prospects as waning, and wants to know of Ulysses, the warrior, if some man or some plan can't be got to do some thing. In one word he wants to know — WHY THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC DON'T MOVE. A month since there was a talk of putting Hancock at the head: that is, losing the most brilliant of corps commanders and risking (there is always a risk) the making of a mediocre army commander!

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¹ “The Rebels were meanly employing their negro prisoners in this work.” — Lyman's Journal.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 201-4

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, June 7, 1864

June 7, 1864

After extraordinary delays an armistice was concluded between six and eight P.M. this evening. It was very acceptable for burying the dead but the wounded were mostly dead too, by this time, having been there since the 3d. I fancy there were not many, for our men make extraordinary exertions in the night to get in their comrades, and those who were not thus reached usually had their sufferings shortened by some stray ball, among the showers that continually passed between the works. We here found the body of Colonel McMahon, brother of Sedgwick's Adjutant-General. He was wounded and sat down by a tree, where he was soon hit by two or three other bullets.  . . . Some extraordinary scenes occurred during the armistice. Round one grave, where ten men were laid, there was a great crowd of both sides. The Rebels were anxious to know who would be next President. “Wall,” said one of our men, “I am in favor of Old Abe.” “He's a damned Abolitionist!” promptly exclaimed a grey-back. Upon which our man hit his adversary between the eyes, and a general fisticuff ensued, only stopped by the officers rushing in. Our entrenchments were most extraordinary in their extent, with heavy traverses, where exposed to enfilade, and all done by the men, as it were, spontaneously. An officer told a man it was not worth while to go on with a little private bomb-proof he was constructing, as he would only be there two or three days. “I don't care,” replied he, “if we only stay two or three hours; I ain't going to have my head knocked off by one of them shells!" . . .

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 154

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: June 6, 1864

Up early this clear, hot morning. During the night the wounded had been removed and cared for, and the dead buried. Our company's loss, twenty killed and wounded. The loss in the regiment, one hundred and thirty killed and wounded. None taken prisoners. The color-sergeants and the guard were all killed or wounded except one. They were a part of our company, as we were the color company. Very sad over our loss. Such is the life of a soldier. Rations running very low.

This morning, fifty rounds of cartridges given to each man, forty for our boxes, ten for our pockets. Left the battle field. Again on the march, rather slow, through wood-land, wondering what was in store for us. After being under way for about two hours, suddenly, great cheering was heard. The regiment came to a halt as the cheers came nearer to us. Reports came to us by scouts that our cavalry was in possession of Staunton, where we expected to meet with stubborn resistance. We were soon pushing for the town, said to be twelve miles away, at the upper end of the Shenandoah Valley. The march takes us over a rough, stony, hilly road, sometimes through the lots, giving up the roads to the artillery and wagon train. As we marched along there was much to be seen by inquisitive Yankees. We entered the town from the north, passing through what seemed to be the main street, going into camp on the west side.

The scenery in this vicinity is grand. Town located on hills and hillsides. Reminds us somewhat of our home town, Norwich, Connecticut. We are soldiers, doing hard service for our country in a cruel war, but for all that we cannot help but take in the fine scenery. We are living close to the earth, as we eat and sleep on the ground. We try to improve every opportunity to take a bath, wash our clothes, and swim. At this time the weather is very hot, dry, and dusty, which seems to come very soon after the rain. Thunderstorms, in this valley, are very fierce at times.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 70-72

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: May 17, 1864

Near Cedar Creek. Took account of stock this morning. A requisition goes to the quartermaster for a supply of clothes, rubber blankets, shelter tents. Much of our luggage gets lost on the march and in battle. Captain Wm. L. Spaulding, Co. B, killed at Newmarket. Body brought along by members of his company. Buried today near Cedar Creek, with military honors, the regiment taking part. It is intended to send the body home later. I expect to sleep tonight in an army wagon, near camp.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 61-2

Robert Gould Shaw to Francis G. Shaw, September 21, 1862

maryland Heights, September 21, 1862.

Dear Father, — . . . We left Frederick on the 14th instant, marched that day and the next to Boonsborough, passing through a gap in the mountain where Burnside had had a fight the day before. On the 16th our corps, then commanded by General Mansfield, took up a position in rear of Sumner's, and lay there all day. The Massachusetts cavalry was very near us. I went over and spent the evening with them, and had a long talk with Forbes about home and friends there We lay on his blanket before the fire until nearly ten o'clock, and then I left him, little realizing what a day the next was to be, though a battle was expected; and I thought, as I rode off, that perhaps we shouldn't see each other again. Fortunately, we have both got through safely so far. At about eleven, P. M., Mansfield's corps was moved two or three miles to the right. At one in the morning of the 17th we rested in a wheat-field. Our pickets were firing all night, and at daylight we were waked up by the artillery; we were moved forward immediately, and went into action in about fifteen minutes. The Second Massachusetts was on the right of Gordon's brigade, and the Third Wisconsin next; the latter was in a very exposed position, and lost as many as two hundred killed and wounded in a short time. We were posted in a little orchard, and Colonel Andrews got a cross-fire on that part of the enemy's line, which, as we soon discovered, did a great deal of execution, and saved the Third Wisconsin from being completely used up. It was the prettiest thing we have ever done, and our loss was small at that time; in half an hour the brigade advanced through a corn-field in front, which until then had been occupied by the enemy; it was full of their dead and wounded, and one of our sergeants took a regimental color there, belonging to the Eleventh Mississippi. Beyond the corn-field was a large open field, and such a mass of dead and wounded men, mostly Rebels, as were lying there, I never saw before; it was a terrible sight, and our men had to be very careful to avoid treading on them; many were mangled and torn to pieces by artillery, but most of them had been wounded by musketry fire. We halted right among them, and the men did everything they could for their comfort, giving them water from their canteens, and trying to place them in easy positions. There are so many young boys and old men among the Rebels, that it seems hardly possible that they can have come of their own accord to fight us; and it makes you pity them all the more, as they lie moaning on the field.

The Second Massachusetts came to close quarters, i. e. within musket range, twice during the day; but we had several men wounded by shell, which were flying about loosely all day. It was the greatest fight of the war, and I wish I could give you a satisfactory account of everything I saw. . . .

At last, night came on, and, with the exception of an occasional shot from the outposts, all was quiet. The crickets chirped, and the frogs croaked, just as if nothing unusual had happened all day long; and presently the stars came out bright, and we lay down among the dead, and slept soundly until daylight. There were twenty dead bodies within a rod of me. The next day, much to our surprise, all was quiet, and the burying and hospital parties worked hard, caring for the dead and wounded

I never felt before the excitement which makes a man want to rush into the fight, but I did that day. Every battle makes me wish more and more that the war was over. It seems almost as if nothing could justify a battle like that of the 17th, and the horrors inseparable from it.

SOURCE: Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Editor, Harvard Memorial Biographies, Volume 2, p. 199-200

Diary of Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, May 26, 1863

It was quiet all along the line last night. The rebels came out with a flag of truce, asking permission to bury their dead, killed during the day. Our brigade started towards the right this morning, and arriving at McPherson's headquarters at the center, we went into bivouac for the night. Our march was over hot and dusty roads. Our guns commenced to shell the rebels again this afternoon.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 118

Diary of Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, October 12, 1862

We started early this morning and marching thirty miles arrived at Corinth just at dark. The soldiers are all very tired and worn, having marched about sixty-five miles over a heavy road in two days. We came into Corinth over the ground we had fought over in the battle of October 3d and 4th. This battlefield is a terrible sight and gives one a horrible picture of war. Our men having hurriedly gone in pursuit of the fleeing rebels, the burial of the dead was left to the convalescents, together with such negroes as could be found to do the job. Many of the dead bodies had become so decomposed that they could not be moved and were simply covered over with a little earth just where they lay.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 76

Diary of Alexander G. Downing: Pittsburg Landing, Tennessee, Thursday, April 10, 1862

We are still burying the dead. The lieutenant of Company F was buried today. Nearly all of the dead have been buried now, but there are some of the wounded still dying. I was detailed with two others to bury three of the rebels’ dead. We went out about a half mile north of the camp to a stony knoll where one body lay, and worked all forenoon, the ground being so hard and stony, to dig even a shallow grave into which we rolled the body and covered it the best we could. In the afternoon we dug a double grave for two who had died of mortal wounds.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 43-4

Diary of Alexander G. Downing: Pittsburg Landing, Tennessee, Wednesday, April 9, 1862

Fifteen hundred more of our troops arrived. We are still burying the dead. It rained again today. The ground is so thoroughly soaked that it is difficult to dig the graves deep enough and keep out the water. We bury our dead by companies, all of one company in one grave, and if only one of a company is killed, the body is placed in a grave by itself. The bodies of the rebels’ dead are placed side by side in long graves. The carcasses of horses are removed by burning them.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 43

Diary of Alexander G. Downing: Pittsburg Landing, Tennessee, Tuesday, April 8, 1862

We formed a line of battle early this morning and remained in line about two hours.¹ So many men throughout the camp were firing off their loaded rifles, preparing to clean them, that the officers thought a battle was in progress out in front. About 9 o'clock word came in from the front that there was no rebel in sight, and we were ordered back to our quarters. We spent the day in burying the dead, both our own and those of the rebels.

Our battle line had been at the south end of Jones’ Field, where a few days before we had cleared the timber for a review ground. This place was fought over so often by both armies and the dead lay so close that one could walk on dead bodies for some distance without touching the ground. There were over three thousand five hundred dead on the battlefield, and something like five hundred dead horses. Seven hundred bodies of the rebels were put into one grave. It is an awful sight to see the dead lying all about. It rained this forenoon, but cleared off this afternoon. The heavy rains have soaked the ground, making it very muddy. About five thousand of our forces arrived today.

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¹ It has been said by some that from General Grant down to the commonest private in the ranks of the entire Army of the Tennessee, all the men cared for on Monday afternoon, the second day of the battle of Shiloh, was to get back to their camps. I cannot believe the statement, for on Tuesday, the 8th, when we were ordered into line of battle, on that gloomy, rainy morning, and a cold wind blowing from the northwest, I know by the sentiment of the boys in my own company, that they would have gone to the front then if ordered to do so. We felt that the loss in our company was too great not to follow up the victory. — A. G. D.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 43