Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Saturday, May 24, 1862

Camp at Coal Harbor. Fighting is going on near the Chickahominy. The balloon is up.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 43

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Saturday, May 31, 1862

Commencement of the battles of the Seven Pines and Fair Oaks. At two o'clock P. M., the battle began on the south side of the Chickahominy. The enemy attacked Casey's division. The Second corps got ready immediately, the Second division, General Sedgwick, leading to the Chickahominy. We crossed at Grape Vine Bridge, built by the First Minnesota, Colonel Sully, Battery I, First United States Regulars, being the first artillery to cross, under great dificulties, the guns sinking in up to the axle. Our battery followed next. Great excitement seemed to prevail about getting artillery forward. But for the timely arrival of the Second and Thirty-fourth New York, Fifteenth Massachusetts, and First Minnesota Regiments, the day would have been lost especially, the two New York regiments, fought with great determination. Not until night set in, the battle ceased. Our battery stood in the middle of the road all night. The order was to be in line of battle by two o'clock A. M.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, pp. 44-5

Diary of Private William S. White, June 1, 1862

We cannot as yet procure the full particulars regarding the battle of "Seven Pines" fought yesterday and to-day. As well as I can learn the plan was this: the Yankees had crossed a large force on the south-side of the Chickahominy, and on the night of the 30th of May, we had a most terrific storm. Our Commander, General Jos. E. Johnston, concluding that the bridges were all washed away, and the river past fording, concluded to attack the Yankees on the south-side and crush them out before they could be reinforced. On account of the tardiness of General Huger the plan was not fully successful, though we surprised the enemy, capturing a large number of prisoners with several pieces of artillery. Our camp was on the main road leading to Seven Pines, but 'twas difficult to handle artillery and we received no orders to move. What a heart-rending scene it is to witness the wounded brought in from a terrible battle field. The people of Richmond turned out en masse to render aid to our wounded soldiers. Many a wounded soldier-boy from the sunny South will never cease to remember the fair form of the "city belle" as she soothed his aching brow or bound up his wounded limb. Too often do we hear our Southern allies cursing the people of Richmond as a set of speculators thriving on our misfortunes, but now many of them have been convinced that "in the hour of pain and anguish," Richmond can and will do all within her power to aid those who are seeking to uphold our cause.

'Tis undoubtedly true that Richmond has changed greatly since the war began, for it has, I am sorry to say, become the headquarters of all of the "fancy men" of the South—gentlemen of the Hebrew persuasion have made it their rendezvous to sell blockade goods, and countless numbers of Yankee spies, though outwardly swearing allegiance to our government, hold strong foothold in our city. Gambling hells, furnished with tinseled splendor are at every corner, to catch the unwary, and relieve them of their superabundant "Confederates."

Still there is enough of the old metal left, purified and refined, to make Richmond to me the sweetest, dearest spot on earth. General Johnston being wounded, General Robert E. Lee now commands our army.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, pp. 116-7

Diary of Private William S. White, June 29, 1862

Longstreet's and A. P. Hill's divisions crossed to the south side of the Chickahominy to-day, and have moved eastward down the Darbytown Road. These divisions have not been engaged to-day.

This afternoon I was sent back to Featherstone's Brigade Headquarters, near the city, for a farther supply of rations, as ours were left on the north side of the Chickahominy.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 122

Diary of Private William S. White, June 30, 1862

BATTLE OF WILLIS'S CHURCH, OR FRAYSER'S FARM, MONDAY, JUNE 30TH, 1862.

I was in the saddle from a little after sunrise yesterday morning until daybreak this morning, and then, after taking a nap of an hour, had to move on to find my company. McClellan, having been so terribly punished on his right flank by the fierce onslaughts of Lee and Jackson, has now concentrated his forces on this (the south) side of the Chickahominy, and is making his way to his gun-boats on the James River. We are following him up as rapidly as possible. Our two divisions moved a few miles farther down the Darbytown Road, when our advanced guard captured a Yankee picket, who reported their men to be but a short distance in advance.

Longstreet quickly disposed his troops, and advanced to meet the enemy; my battery was posted in an open field, but we could see no enemy, as a heavy wood was between us.

The enemy soon rained a storm of shot and shell upon us, and we returned the fire with vigor, but as soon as our infantry charged beyond us, as at Gaines's Mill, we were compelled to cease firing," our guns being of such short range.

Nevertheless, we were compelled to receive their fire, and, being unable to return it, it made our situation anything but pleasant. Nothing is more demoralizing to troops than to be subjected to a heavy fire from an unseen foe and to remain perfectly inactive. The wood completely shut us out from sight, yet shielded us but little from the shot and shell.

Here a member of my company (Edward F. Cullen) was struck upon the forehead by a piece of shell; we thought at first he was seriously wounded, but we were mistaken. I also made a very narrow escape, for a two ounce ball from a Belgian rifle passed through my gunner's-bag, which was, as is customary during an engagement, thrown over my shoulder. I had in this bag about 500 friction primers, each and every one a little miniature cannon of itself, filled with rifle and a poisonous fulminating powder, the explosion of one of which would have caused the explosion of the whole. The ball passed through three thick pleats of leather, breaking the fourth and last pleat. Had it not have been for this leather bag, I would have received this ball just below my heart. The fighting was still going on in our front at a terrific rate. Again and again our men charged the enemies' works, but were as often driven back. At one time Featherstone's brigade had to reform a few yards to the right of our battery, and could only muster 250 men. One more grand effort—a dashing charge and our men have carried the entrenchments. Kemper's men are holding their position without ammunition; Featherstone's brigade has melted away from 1,200 to 200; still our brave troops hold their position, and have captured many a piece of artillery. Night comes on, but still the fight continues—volley after volley of musketry pours its stream of death into our ranks, but our men cannot be driven back, and McClellan has to keep moving on. Our field of observation is so extremely limited, we can learn but little of the general plan of the battle or of the specific results. The wounded stragglers all pass through our battery and tell the same old tale of being "cut up," "badly whipped," etc., so that for a long time we were really in doubt whether we or the Yankees had been successful. The enemy fought bravely and contested the ground inch by inch. Our General, Featherstone, has been badly wounded. We have captured many prisoners and a number of pieces of artillery; also, a Brigadier-General by the name of McCall.

We spent the night on the field, and, for the season, it was bitterly cold.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, pp. 122-4

Richmond Campaign

Gen. Grant is still prosecuting the campaign against Richmond. Severe fighting is reported Saturday by Hancock, and that the rebels were defeated at Bottom’s Bridge (12 miles from Richmond) and the whole Federal army is on the south bank of the Chickahominy. Gen. Grant is occupying Gen. McClellan’s old ground, and being backed by the Administration with troops, he is gradually approaching Richmond.

In an expedition against Petersburg, Gen. Kautz, with his cavalry, forced a rebel line of intrenchments and dashed into the city; but, not being supported by the infantry under Gilmore, he was compelled to withdraw. Gilmore did not deem it prudent to attack, the rebel works being quite formidable and more strongly garrisoned than he had anticipated.

SOURCE: “Wounded,” Democratic Pharos, Logansport, Indiana, Wednesday, June 15, 1864, p. 2

Diary of 4th Corporal Bartlett Yancey Malone: June 1, 1862

The fight comenced a little before the sun rose And we was plast (placed) in a line of Battel And was expecting to go in to it evry minuet but we staid there all day and was not cauld on; General Longstreet divishion don the most of the fighting on Sunday And from that time till the 11th we stade in the Swamp down on Chickahominy River

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 20-1

Diary of 4th Corporal Bartlett Yancey Malone: June 11, 1862

we left Chickahominy And went to Richmond and taken the cars and went to the Junction that night And the next morning we left thar And about a hour befour the sun set we arived at Linchburg

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 21

Diary of 4th Corporal Bartlett Yancey Malone: June 26, 1862

we travield sloley down the Chickahominy River driving in the pickets as we went

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 22

Diary of 4th Corporal Bartlett Yancey Malone: June 30, 1862

we was rousted up about too oclock in the night and about day break we started out again And crost the Chickahominy River and marched untell we came to the York river Railroad 8 miles below Richmond And then we taken down the Railroad and about 2 hours befour sunset we come to a little creak whar the Yankees had burnt the bridg And left sum of thir peases thar to bumb us so we couldent build the bridge untell they could get thir armey futher along, And we never got the bridge built untell next morning about a half of a hour by sun

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 22

Diary of 4th Corporal Bartlett Yancey Malone: May 31, 1862

And the next morning which was the 30 we left and marched down toward Chickahominy And about three oclock in the eavning we was led in to the Battel field by Colonel Pender And we had a wright nice time of it from then tell dark

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 20

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 16, 1865

Clouds and sunshine; warm. Splendid rainbow last evening.

We have nothing new in the papers from any quarter. Sheridan's position is not known yet, though it must be within a short distance of the city. There was no battle yesterday. Sheridan reports the killing of Commodore Hollins, and says it was done because he attempted to escape at Gordonsville.

Sherman's march through South Carolina is reported to have been cruel and devastating. Fire and the sword did their worst. Congress, the House of Representatives rather, yesterday passed a bill suspending the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus. The Senate will concur probably. Also the President's suggestion amending the Conscript act has been passed. The President has the reins now, and Congress will be more obedient; but can they save this city? Advertisements for recruiting negro troops are in the papers this morning.

It is rumored that Sheridan has crossed the Chickahominy and got off without hinderance. If this be so, Gen. Lee will be criticised.

One P.M. It is ascertained that Sheridan has withdrawn to the York River, and abandoned any attempt on Richmond.

And it is supposed by high military authority that but for the providential freshet, Sheridan would have succeeded in crossing the James River, and cutting the Danville Railroad, which would have deprived Lee's army of supplies. The freshet rendered his pontoon bridge too short, etc. This may be claimed as a direct interposition of Providence, at a time when we were fasting, praying, etc., in accordance with the recommendation of the government.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 450-1

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, June 1, 1864

Between Chickahominy and Pamunky Rivers, Va.,

June 1, 1864.

Your letters of the 24th and 26th ult. both reached me last night. The mails seem to be more regular now than for some time past.

There was not much fighting yesterday. It was only skirmishing. A few men were wounded in our brigade, only one of them being in my regiment. About an hour ago I heard heavy musketry on the extreme right of our lines, but it was far to the right of our division. We have every confidence that we shall be able to hold Richmond this summer. General Lee has an enormous army here now, and we all hope that Grant will attack us as soon as possible.

Jack Teague wrote me that Jim Spearman had been conscripted and assigned to light duty. Jack is very anxious for me to return to South Carolina as soon as possible, but it is no use to hand in a resignation at such busy times as these. I may send it in, though, whenever we get quiet again, so that it will be attended to. The longer I delay it the more apt it is to be accepted.

I was glad to know that you have the wool for my suit. I was proud of my old brown suit of last winter, but when I get a Confederate gray I shall be proud of it, sure enough. I have not drawn any money since last January, but as soon as I do I will replenish your purse. I should like so much to see your catskin shoes.

The weather is becoming quite warm. The dust is very bad and we are needing rain again. I have not seen your brother for several days, but suppose he is well. I have nothing more of importance to write at present, but will write you again to-morrow.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 99-100

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, March 5, 1863

Camp near Rappahannock River, Va.,

March 5, 1863.

Edwin, Jim Allen and Ben Strother took dinner with me yesterday, and I think I gave them a pretty good dinner for camp. We had biscuit, excellent ham, fried potatoes, rice, light bread, butter, stewed fruit and sugar. They ate heartily, as soldiers always do. Edwin is not suffering from his wound, but on account of it he is privileged to have his baggage hauled.

A man was shot near our regiment last Sunday for desertion. It was a very solemn scene. The condemned man was seated on his coffin with his hands tied across his breast. A file of twelve soldiers was brought up to within six feet of him, and at the command a volley was fired right into his breast. He was hit by but one ball, because eleven of the guns were loaded with powder only. This was done so that no man can be certain that he killed him. If he was, the thought of it might always be painful to him. I have seen men marched through the camps under guard with boards on their backs which were labeled, "I am a coward," or "I am a thief," or "I am a shirker from battle," and I saw one man tied hand and foot astride the neck of a cannon and exposed to view for sixteen hours. These severe punishments seem necessary to preserve discipline.

We have no prospect of a fight now whatever, but if the weather continues dry and pleasant it may come soon. We are too well entrenched for them to attack us here, but it is hard to tell what these crazy, fanatical Yankees intend to do.

Our troops are all in fine health. We seldom send a man to the hospital now, but when we were on the Chickahominy River near Richmond we sent from five to twelve each day. I trust we will be exposed to no greater danger in the future than the bullets, for they do not compare in destructiveness with disease. Captain Hunt's company has lost seven men from bullets and twenty-five from disease, and in most of the companies the difference is greater than this.

The weather for the last three or four days has been very windy and blustering and characteristic of March. It was intensely cold last night, but to-day the sun broke out and it is pleasant.

I am anxious to see George. I know he is a charming little fellow.

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 44-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 13, 1864

Clear and cool.

Gen. Bragg sent to the Secretary of War to-day a copy of a letter from him to the President, yesterday, proposing to send 6000 more troops to Western Virginia, as Breckinridge has only 9000 and the enemy 18,000.

Lieut.-Gen Holmes sends from Raleigh, N. C., a letter from Hon. T. Bragg, revealing the existence of a secret organization in communication with the enemy, styled the “H. O. A.;" and asking authority to arrest certain men supposed to be implicated.

A letter was received from G. W. Lay, his son-in-law, by the Assistant Secretary of War, Judge Campbell, dated near Petersburg, stating that the Southern Express Company would bring articles from Charleston for him. That company seems to be more potential than ever.

Cannonading was heard far down the Chickahominy this morning. And yet Lieut.-Gen. Ewell marched his corps to-day out the Brooke Road, just in the opposite direction. It is rumored that he is marching away for Washington! If he had transportation, and could march in that direction, no doubt it would be the speediest way of relieving Richmond. Gen. Lee, however, knows best.

At the conclave of dignitaries, Hunter, Wigfall, and Secretary Seddon, yesterday, it is reported that when Mr. Seddon explained Grant's zigzag fortifications, Senator Hunter exclaimed he was afraid we could never beat him; when Senator Wigfall said nothing was easier—the President would put the old folks and children to praying at 6 o'clock A.M. Now if any one were to tell these things to the President, he would not believe him.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 230-1

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 16, 1864

Clear and pleasant weather, but dusty.

The Departmental Battalion marched away, last night, from the Chickahominy (guarding a ford when no enemy was on the other side!) for Chaffin's Farm, on the James River. They were halted after marching an hour or so, and permitted to rest (sleep) while the rest of the brigade passed on.

When Custis awoke he was alone, the battalion having left him; and he was ill, and knew not the road. So he set out for the city, with the intention of going down the river road this morning. But he grew worse after reaching home. Still, he resolved to go; and at 8 A.M., having marched all night nearly, he set out again, and met his sergeant—who had likewise diverged as far as the city—who said if he was really too ill to march, he would deliver the captain a surgeon's certificate to that effect, which would be a sufficient explanation of his absence. So, Surgeon C. Bell Gibson, upon an examination, pronounced him sick, and certified to the captain that he could not be fit for service for a week or ten days. At 3 P.M. he is in bed with a raging fever.

There was a fight at Malvern Hill yesterday, the enemy being repulsed.

There was also another assault on Petersburg, repulsed three times; but the fourth time our forces, two regiments, were forced back by overwhelming numbers from the outer line of defenses..

To-day it is reported that they are fighting again at Petersburg, and great masses of troops are in motion. The war will be determined, perhaps, by the operations of a day or two; and much anxiety is felt by all.

A letter from Hon. G. A. Henry, on the Danville Railroad, saying only 1000 men were there to defend it, with but two cannon without appropiate ammunition!

Soon after a dispatch came from Col. Withers, at Danville, stating it was reported 10,000 of the enemy were approaching the road, and only thirty-two miles distant. He called for reinforcements, but stated his belief that the number of the enemy was exaggerated.

I delivered these to the Secretary myself, finding him engaged writing a long letter to Gen. Kirby Smith, beyond the Mississippi!

In this moment of doubt and apprehension, I saw Mr. Randolph, formerly Secretary of War, and Mr. G. A. Myers, his law colleague, at the telegraph office eagerly in quest of news.

To-day the President decided that Marylanders here are “residents," or "alien enemies;" if the former, they must fight-if the latter, be expelled. A righteous judgment.

Last night, as Custis staggered (with debility) upon the pickets at the fortifications of the city, not having a passport, he was refused permission to proceed. He then lay down to rest, when one of the pickets remarked to him that he was not "smart, or he would flank them.” Custis sprang up and thanked him for the hint, and proceeded to put it in practice.

The Examiner to-day says that Col. Dahlgren, a month before his death, was in Richmond, under an assumed name, with a passport signed by Gen. Winder, to go whithersoever he would. think this probable.

At 3 P. M. the wires cease to work between here and Petersburg, and there are many rumors.

But from the direction of the wind, we cannot hear any firing.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 232-3

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: February 11, 1864

The Expedition.

The morning of February 6th found us in line on the parade ground, New York and Massachusetts shoulder to shoulder. Capt. Phillips, wanting a brave and valiant veteran on the left of his company, assigned me to that post of honor. I reckon the reason for it was that two of his sergeants were on the sick list. While standing in line, waiting the order to march, a scene is transpiring which to us of the 25th is altogether new and strange. The ladies living here in camp are all out, and wetting their handkerchiefs with their tears, are watching the preparations to leave. They are struggling under a fearful burden of anxiety which will not be removed until our return. Groups of men and women are standing around, taking each other by the hand and kissing their good-byes. Our Brooklyn friends are visibly affected, while the 25th boys look on stoically. While men and women with streaming eyes are bidding perhaps their last farewells, these roughened, hardened sons of Mars look with unpitying eye on this affecting scene and laugh. I confess I should have taken a greater interest in the thing and my sympathies would have flowed more freely if I could have taken a hand in the kissing.

We marched into town where the brigade line was formed, consisting of the 139th and 118th New York, two regiments of colored troops and one U. S. battery, (the 2d I think). The mounted rifles were to follow later. This comprised the whole force under command of Brig. Gen. Wistar, whoever he is. The line of march was taken up the country on the road towards Richmond. Arriving at the woods, about a mile from town, the column was halted and a detail made to act as skirmishers. The 139th being on the advance furnished the detail. In this detail the 25th was largely represented, and was under command of Major Mulcay. The major marched his command a few rods into the woods, formed his skirmish line and ordered them forward, the column following. I now began to hear plenty of talk about bushwhackers and business for the boys ahead. Capt. Phillips fell back to the rear of his company, marching by my side. I thought this a good opportunity to scrape an acquaintance, and commenced talking to him, but he did not seem to be in a mood for conversation and said as little as possible. He commenced a low, suppressed whistle of a single strain of Rally 'Round the Flag. I tried all means I could think of to draw him out, but finding I could do nothing with him, I turned my attention to the major and his skirmishers. He was as busy with them and as particular as if they were out for skirmish drill, and kept talking to them all the time about preserving their distances and alignments.

After a time, the boys started up a rabbit, and half a dozen of them gave chase, shouting and yelling till they were out of sight in the woods, where they waited for the major to come up. The major lectured them a little about charging without orders and warning them of the great danger they were in from bushwhackers. All the thanks he got from those heartless fellows for all his care and solicitude was: “Oh! damn the bushwhackers!” and as soon as another rabbit or squirrel was started up, away they would go again. Capt. Phillips, who meanwhile had kept up his whistle, suppressed it long enough to say: “Your boys are taking great risks in running off into the woods in that way; some of them will get shot by bushwhackers.” I said I thought our boys had very little fear of bush whackers, and would sooner have the fun of chasing them than rabbits, besides I thought there was little danger from bush whackers, for when a force like this was marching through they preferred keeping at a safe distance.

A little after noon the cavalry overtook us, and we halted to let them go past us. I was surprised to see such a force; there was a whole brigade, numbering between 3000 and 4000, under command of Col. Spear, who had been sent down from the army of the Potomac, landing at Yorktown, and had now overtaken us. I could now begin to see through a glass darkly. This is the raid on Richmond, of which I had heard some hints before. The cavalry of course are the principal actors, and we are simply the supporting column.

The cavalry past us, we again started. The general hurried us up, wishing to keep as near the cavalry as possible, but the major's skirmish line rather retarded us. It was finally thought that with a large cavalry force in advance the skirmish line was not absolutely necessary, and it was withdrawn. The march was forced till past the middle of the afternoon, when it began to tell on the Brooklyn boys, some of them giving out. They were unaccustomed to such severe marching, and it took hold of them severely. We made a halt of an hour for rest and lunch, and before starting, Col. Roberts made a short address. He thought we were on the eve of a severe battle, and he hoped and believed his regiment would stand up and quit themselves like soldiers, and if successful in our undertaking we should deserve end receive the plaudits of the country. In such a battle, there must necessarily be some victims, but just who, we are of course ignorant, but each one is hoping it will not be him. I laughed, and one of the boys asked what pleased me. I said if the colonel did not look out he would have us all whipped before we sighted the enemy. We pushed along till into the evening; the boys were getting pretty well played out and would make frequent halts without any orders.

There was one of the general's aids who seemed to take a great interest in getting us along, and his interest from some cause or other (probably his canteen) seemed to increase with the evening. The boys would be groping their weary way through the darkness, when some one would give a whistle and they would all squat in the road. This aid would ride up in a great passion and order them up, telling them if they didn't get along faster he would put a regiment of colored troops on the advance. The response to that threat would be: “Bring on your niggers!” This officer had another provoking habit which he came well nigh paying dearly for. There were occasional mud holes in the road caused by the rains; some of them two or three rods across. The boys would flank these to keep their feet from getting wet and sore, but this officer attempted to drive them through, saying it took up the time tanking them. At one of these places he was going to drive them through anyway or it would be the death of some of them. I was quietly going around, and halted to see how he made it work with them. He was swearing at them, wheeling his horse right and left among them, and making himself about as disagreeable as he could. Just then I heard the ominous click of rifle locks, and heard some one ask him if he was aware those rifles were loaded. He seemed to catch on to the idea, and got himself out of that as quickly as possible, and was heard from no more during the march. Soldiers are human, with feelings and passions like other men; they can and do stand a great deal, but they cannot stand everything any more than a stone drag.

The night wore on, the boys were well nigh exhausted and made frequent halts. The colonel would sympathize with them, and encourage them by saying he hoped the day's march was nearly over, telling them to keep up courage and a few miles more the end would be reached. At one of these halts the major showed some impatience, and riding up to the colonel said:

“Colonel, I really do not understand the meaning of this?”

“What's the matter now, major?"

“Why, every few moments this entire regiment will simultaneously sit down?”

“Oh, well, major,” the colonel replied, “the boys are tired; they have come a long way and are pretty well played out; change places with some of them, major, and you will understand it better.”

That seemed to be satisfactory to the major and he rode off, but it cheered the boys up wonderfully and they made quite a distance before halting again.

It is curious how sometimes the most trifling act or expression will raise up the almost exhausted energies of men and inspire hope when almost on the verge of despair. As an instance of this, the boys while marching along had for some time preserved a dead silence; not a word had been spoken, and all seemed to be absorbed in their own reflections, when suddenly I stumbled over a stump. Gathering myself up I exclaimed: “There, I know just where that stump is!" The effect was like magic; all within the sound of my voice broke out in a loud and hearty laugh, and for a time forgot their fatigue and trudged lightly along.

We reached the end of our day's tramp at New Kent sometime after midnight, having made a march of thirty miles. Many of the boys were so exhausted that they threw themselves down on the ground and were soon fast asleep. I prepared some coffee, and while it was boiling, washed myself up, and after drinking my coffee, rolled up in my blanket and was soon asleep.

We slept about three hours when we were routed up, and a little after daylight were again on the march. The boys were pretty stiff and sore, but a mile or two took the kinks out of their legs and limbered them up so they were about as good as new. Nothing transpired worthy of note luring the forenoon's march, unless it was that Capt. Phillips kept up his suppressed whistle of that same strain of Rally 'Round the Flag. I tried to rally him and get him to talking, but it was of no use; he was entirely absorbed in his own reflections, ruminating, as I thought, over the probable chances of leaving a widow and orphan children as a legacy to his country.

Before noon we reached what is called the Baltimore cross roads, about two miles from Bottom bridge which crosses the Chickahominy river. Here we met the cavalry coming back, and Col. Spear reported to Gen. Wistar that on reaching the river he found all the bridges up and a considerable force of the enemy, with infantry and artillery guarding the river. With our small force and only one battery he thought it would be useless to attempt to force the passage of the river. On learning this I felt relieved, for if we couldn't cross the river to them, they certainly couldn't cross it to us, and in all probability they had no desire to do so.

Presently an alarm was raised that the enemy was coming up the White House road. The 139th was ordered down the road to meet them. We went about a quarter of a mile and formed a line of battle. A few cavalry went down the road a couple of miles and when they returned reported no enemy in sight or hearing, a circumstance I did not regret. We then went back and were dismissed for dinner.

This Baltimore is the junction of several roads; the one we came up from New Kent extends on to Richmond, one runs south to Charles City, one northeast to White House, and another runs north over into Northumberland, where once lived a little boy who owned a little hatchet and couldn't tell a lie. It was fortunate for him and the country that he lived at that time for if he had lived in these times the chances are more than a thousand to one that he couldn't have told the truth. There are some half a dozen farm houses scattered round in sight, and also the convenient blacksmith shop is located here.

In the little square formed by the intersection of the roads stands an interesting old building—the church in which Gen. Washington was married. It is a long, low, rather narrow building, without belfrey or ornament of any kind outside or in. It is without paint or even whitewash, and shows the rough marks of age and neglect. It is divested of its seats, having been used for an army hospital. I entered this historic old church and found it half full of the boys cutting their monograms in the ceiling; I uncovered my head in profound reverence for the place and the distinguished parties who were here joined in the holy bonds of wedlock. Here George and Martha mutually pledged themselves each to the other, to share together their joys and sorrows along the pathway of life until death should bring a separation, and well they kept their vows, for I have never learned that either of them ever applied for a divorce, although it is said Martha in prosperous gales was something of a shrew. For this little bit of history I am indebted to one of my Brooklyn friends who had made a previous visit here.

After waiting here a couple of hours the column re-formed and marched back over the road we came nearly to the woods, where we halted to let the cavalry go past us. After passing us they halted to feed their horses and themselves, and while waiting for them an alarm was raised that the enemy were coming through the woods on our flank. Down came the fences and a regiment of darkies filed into the field, and deployed as skirmish

Every few moments they would look back to see where their support was, while their teeth and the whites of their eyes resembled bunches of tallow candles hanging in a dark cellar-way. The alarm of course was a false one, but the colored troops fought nobly.

We arrived back at New Kent about night, and bivouacked on a large field near the village. New Kent is the county seat, and is not much unlike other country places they call towns in Virginia. It contains a court house, jail, church, two or three stores, tavern, a small collection of houses and the inevitable blacksmith shop. There is no such thing in Virginia as a schoolhouse; they have no use for such things. All they want is law and gospel, and I have not been able to find out that these give them a great degree of culture and refinement. More than 200 years ago the colonial Gov. Berkley said: “I thank God there are no public schools in Virginia, and I hope there will be none for the next hundred years.” His hopes have been doubly realized, which probably accounts for the present state of affairs in Virginia.

Getting into camp we built fires, made coffee and began to make ourselves comfortable. Some time in the evening the major happened along where a few of us were standing around a fire of burning rails. He began to upbraid us for burning the rails, telling us if we wanted fires we must go into the woods and get our fuel. I said to the major I thought it was all right to burn the rails; as we were sort of guests on the gentleman's place, I presumed he would be entirely willing and glad to contribute a few rails for our personal comfort during the night. He went off muttering something about destruction of property while the boys added more rails to the fire.

Next morning the march was resumed, Capt. Phillips came out looking bright and pert as a wildcat, the low whistle was no longer heard and he was as full of orders to his company as a major-general. We arrived back on the afternoon of the 9th, and as we sighted Camp West, the ladies were all out on the parade ground, waving their handkerchiefs in greeting of our return. It was like the old Roman armies returning from conquest, when fair maidens, with white waving arms, would welcome their coming. Now another scene ensued; fair women and brave men close in the fond embraces of love and thanksgiving for their miraculous deliverance. I could but feel that the 25th boys were rather slighted in not receiving a share of the kisses, for who can tell that but for them their friends might not now be dwellers in the Hotel de Libby. On the whole we have had rather an interesting excursion, having seen some forty odd miles of the county. It was very woody and I think the poorest I have ever traveled in for chickens, applejack and peach and honey. But the chickens and applejack didn't matter so much as the orders in regard to foraging were very strict. These officers in command here seem to think the proper way to conduct a war is not to hurt anyone or damage their property. The result was not much different from what I expected, and reminds me of the old couplet:

The king of France with 50,000 men marched up the hill

And then marched down again.

I reckon we must have gone very near where Pocahontas befriended Capt. Smith. The history of that little romance is that Smith was captured while ascending the Chickahominy river, and taken higher up the river to Powhatan’s lodge, and that was said to be some twelve miles below where the city of Richmond now stands. So I reckon we must have been in the vicinity where that occurred; I should like to have stayed there two or three days, or at least long enough to have selected some romantic spot as being the place where that drama was enacted, and if possible gathered a few stones and erected some sort of rude monument to the memory of the young lady.

Before dismissing his regiment, Col. Roberts thanked them for their cheerful obedience to orders, endurance and good order while on the march, and especially his new allies, who throughout the long march neither faltered, complained or straggled.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 117-23

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 4, 1864

Showers and sunshine. It is believed Grant has lost 40,000 within the last week!

To-day there has been more or less cannonading along the line; but it is not known if any infantry were engaged.

The battalion to which Custis (my son) belongs is at Bottom's Bridge, some sixteen miles distant on the Chickahominy; and I learn that the enemy shelled it yesterday and last night, without injury, shells falling short.

It is suspected that Sherman will be ordered from Georgia to reinforce Grant! It seems Lincoln would give up his hopes of heaven, and plunge into hell, for the PRESIDENCY.

The Commissary-General says Lee must beat Grant before the latter is reinforced, “or we are gone;” for their destruction of the railroads, north and northwest, will ruin us—the southern roads being insufficient to transport stores for the army.

My nephew, Col. R. H. Musser, trans-Mississippi, I am told by Senator Clark, was complimented on the field of victory by Gen. Taylor. His brigadier-general having fallen, Col. M. commanded the brigade.

Last evening, about 6 P.M., a cloud nearly overhead assumed the shape of a section of our fortifications, the segment of a circle, with the triangle penetrating through from the north. These shapes were distinctly defined. Could the operations beneath have produced this phenomenon ? was it accidental? or a portent of the future? God knows!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 225-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 10, 1864

Clear and cool.

All quiet round the city; but Petersburg was assaulted yesterday and successfully defended.

The battalion of clerks still remains at Bottom's Bridge, on the Chickahominy. The pickets hold familiar conversation every day with the pickets of the enemy, the stream being narrow, and crossed by a log. For tobacco and the city papers our boys get sugar, coffee, etc. This intercourse is wrong. Some of the clerks were compelled to volunteer to retain their offices, and may desert, giving important information to the enemy.

I had snap beans to-day from my garden. I have seen none in market.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 228-9

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 29, 1864

Bright and quite cold.

There was skirmishing yesterday evening on the Chickahominy.

The armies are confronting each other, but Grant is moving gradually to the right of us, as if with an intention to reach the James River; but probably it is with the view of enveloping us with his superior numbers, and the GREAT BATTLE may occur at any hour. The train of cars, laden, in Broad Street, destined a few days ago to transport provisions, etc. to Gen. Lee's army, are visited hourly by wagons from the army, now in the immediate vicinity.

This morning the Secretary's time is occupied in giving audience to citizens who have fled from the vicinity of the enemy, but whose exaggerated accounts really furnish no reliable information. Of what benefit, in such a crisis as this, is the tale of desolation in the track of Grant's army, the destruction of crops, the robbery of children of their silver cups and spoons, etc.? And yet these are the things which occupy much time.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 221-2