Diary of John Hay: November 16, 1864

I started for Grant's headquarters. We left the Navy Yard at two o'clock in the afternoon. The party consisted of Fox, Dyer, Wise, M. Blair, Pyne, Ives, Forbes, Ives, Tom Welles Foster, a Chinese English merchant, and Reid of the Gazette . The day was sad, blowy, bleak, and a little wet.

We dined, and some played cards and all went to bed. When we got up in the morning, we were at Hampton Roads. We made no stay there, but after communicating with the Admiral D. D. Porter, we started up the James River, he following in his flagship, the Malvern. He overtook us about noon or a little after, and came on board with Captain Steadman of the Navy. Porter is a good-looking, lively man, a very off-hand talker, a man not impressing me as of a high order of talent, — a hale-fellow; a slight dash of the rowdy.

In the afternoon we passed by the island of Jamestown. On the low, flat, marshy island, where our first colony landed, there now remains nothing but ruins. An old church has left a solitary tower as its representative. A group of chimneys mark the spot of another large building. On the other side of the river, there is high, fine, swelling land. One cannot but wonder at the taste or judgment that selected that pestilential site in preference to those breezy hills. They probably wished to be near their boats, and also thought a river was a handy thing to have between them and the gentle savages that infested the shores of the James.

Fort Powhatan we saw also — where a battalion of negroes flaxed out Fitz Hughs command of the F. F. Vs.

We arrived at City Point at three o'clock. There are very few troops there but quite a large fleet lying in the river.

We went ashore; walked through the frame building standing in place of that blown up by the late fearful explosion. We climbed the steep hill, whose difficulty is mainly removed by the neat stairs that Yankee care has built since our occupation of the Point. At the top of the hill, we found a young sentry who halted us, and would not let us go further, till Porter, throwing himself on his dignity, which he does not use often, said: “Let that General know that Admiral Porter and Mr. Fox are here to see him.” He evidently impressed the sentry, for he said, after an instant's hesitation:— “Go ahead! I reckon it's all right.”

A common little wall-tent being indicated, we went up to beard the General. At our first knock he came to the door. He looked neater and more careful in his dress than usual; his hair was combed, his coat on, and his shirt clean, his long boots blackened till they shone. Everybody was presented.

After the conference was over we went back to the boat; the General accompanied us. We started down the river and soon had dinner. . . . . After dinner we all gathered around Grant who led the conversation for an hour or so. He thinks the rebels are about at the end of their tether, and said:— “I hope we will give them a blow this winter that will hasten their end.”

He was down on the Massachusetts idea of buying out of the draft by filling their quota with recruits at $300, from among the contrabands in Sherman's army. “Sherman’s head is level on that question,” he said in reply to some strictures of Mr. Forbes; “he knows he can get all these negroes that are worth having anyhow, and he prefers to get them that way rather than to fill up the quota of a distant State and thus diminish the fruits of the draft.” Sherman does not think so hopefully of negro troops as do many other Generals. Grant himself says they are admirable soldiers in many respects; quick and docile in a charge; excellent in fatigue duty. He says he does not think that an army of them could have stood the week's pounding at the Wilderness and Spottsylvania as our men did; “in fact no other troops in the world could have done it,” he said.

Grant is strongly of the belief that the rebel army is making its last grand rally; that they have reinforced to the extent of about 30,000 men in Virginia, Lee getting 20,000 and Early getting 10,000. He does not think they can sensibly increase their armies further. He says that he does not think they can recover from the blows he hopes to give them this winter.

He is deeply impressed with the vast importance and significance of the late Presidential election. The point which impressed him most powerfully was that which I regarded as the critical one — the pivotal centre of our history —the quiet and orderly character of the whole affair. No bloodshed or riot, — few frauds, and those detected and punished in an exemplary manner. It proves our worthiness of free institutions, and our capability of preserving them without running into anarchy or despotism.

Grant remained with us until nearly one o'clock at night — Monday morning — and then went to his own boat, the “Martin,” to sleep till day. Babcock, Dunn, and Badeau, of his staff, were with him.

. . . . We left Fort Monroe at 3½, and arrived at Washington Tuesday morning, the 15th, at 7 a. m.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 245-50; Michael Burlingame & John R. Turner Ettlinger, Editors, Inside Lincoln’s White House: The Complete Civil War Diary of John Hay, p. 249-51.

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Saturday, August 20, 1864

Arose early this morning and am feeling better; over-tired yesterday from hard marching and fatigue, I reckon, was all; took an early breakfast and soon learned my baggage was close at hand; put up my tent and got ready for work to-morrow provided we stay here; put in a requisition for clothing. Lieut. C. H. Reynolds, R. Q. M. has come from City Point; have written to Dr. J. H. Jones this evening; all's quiet.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 137-8

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: December 7, 1863

No news of importance. The rebels say a flag of truce boat has arrived at City Point and Commissioner Olds telegraphed for and undoubtedly will agree upon terms for an exchange of prisoners. Men receiving boxes from their friends at the north and am writing for one myself without much hope of ever getting it.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 16

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Wednesday, July 6, 1864

Our Division was ordered to move to City Point at daylight to take transports for Baltimore, Md., and thence by rail to Harper's Ferry, Md., or vicinity. I said we'd move shortly when ordered to fix camp on the second of July. We arrived at City Point about 3 o'clock p. m. after a hot dusty march and much suffering, and sailed about 4 o'clock p. m. It's quick work to load a boat in an hour, but Grant was there. The contrast from marching through sand ankle deep as dry as an ash heap with the air so thick with dust one a few steps away is invisible, and being on the cool river is a great transformation we much appreciate — Hallelujah!

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 93-4

Brigadier-General William F. Bartlett to Harriet Plummer, July 23, 1864

Headquarters First Brigade, First Division,

Ninth Army Corps.

Before Petersburg, Va., July 23, 1864. Evening.

My Dear Mother, — This is the first day since I left Washington that I have been able to write at all. Perhaps you will have thought that you ought to hear from me before this reaches you; but I have taken the first opportunity and have not forgotten your injunctions. I left Washington Tuesday P. M., reached here Wednesday P. M. Came from Fortress Monroe on despatch boat with General Ingalls, Chief Quartermaster of Army, with whom I dined at City Point, where his headquarters are. By chance found the Chaplain at the Point, and sent for my horses. Ned and Billy were both looking finely. After dinner started for the front. Got as far as my Quartermaster's camp, and as it began to rain, I stayed there all night with him. I slept very well my first night on the ground. In the morning a black snake over six feet long was killed within a few feet of my bed. After breakfast, rode on up to Division Hospital, where I found Dr. White, and several old letters, among them the Nut's of June 6, which I found time to read to-day. Afterwards went to Burnside's Headquarters to report for duty. He was not in. I dined with some of the staff; saw the General later. He was glad to see me. I am assigned, as I supposed, to the command of the First Brigade, First Division. General Ledlie commands the Division. There are now six Massachusetts regiments and one Pennsylvania in the brigade, not numbering more than 1,300 men altogether, present for duty. If the regiments were filled up it would be one of the largest and best brigades in the Army, being all Massachusetts troops. I am trying to get C. B. Amory, of Jamaica Plains, formerly of the Twenty-fourth Regiment, who has been appointed Assistant Adjutant-general, transferred to this brigade. I shall use for the present the staff that is here . . . . the surgeon, a Dr. Ingalls, of Boston, Fifty-ninth Regiment, who is very much of a gentleman. I slept last night and the night before at Division Headquarters with Adjutant-general Mills, Fifty-sixth. He was hoping that I would take the Division, but it seems Ledlie has withdrawn his resignation. The brigade is in two lines of breastworks, one hundred yards apart, in the front of the enemy's works and within two hundred yards in some places. Brigade Headquarters are two hundred and fifty yards in rear of the second line. Division Headquarters two hundred yards in rear of brigade; so you see all are in easy musket range of the enemy. We are in pine woods, the trees not very thick. The Headquarters have to be protected by a stockade of logs against bullets, which are constantly coming through here. Four officers of the Fifty-seventh have been hit since I got here, one killed, three very badly wounded, in the second line. Our stockade does not protect us against shells, which fall in front and rear of us, but have not hit the Headquarters yet. Some fall way in the rear of Division Headquarters, and some near Corps Headquarters, which are about one fourth of a mile in rear of Division. We have a stockade to protect the horses, too, but one of the orderlies' horses and one of General Ledlie's were killed the other day. A bullet goes whizzing over my tent every few minutes as I write, and goes thud into one of the trees near, with a sound that makes you think what a headache that would have given you if your head had been where the tree was. The bullets patter like rain at times against the outside of this stockade of logs, the inside of which my elbow touches as I write. It is a continual rattle of musketry, sometimes swelling into a roar along the line, and varied with the artillery and mortars. So you see we are liable at any moment to be struck, even while reading a paper or eating dinner. A bullet went through Dr. Anderson's table as he was eating breakfast this morning. You must be prepared to hear the worst of me at any time. God grant it may not come, for your sake, and for the sake of all I love and who love me at home. But you must be prepared for it. It is wearing to body and mind, this being constantly under fire. People at the North who are enjoying themselves and thinking of nothing but making money, little appreciate what this brave army is enduring every day and hour for them, and how much more cheerful and hopeful they are than people at home. I wish some of the patriotic (?) ones at home who are making speeches (and money), would just come out here and spend a week, even back here at my Headquarters. They would not care to go down to the lines where the men are day and night fighting for their security and safety. I came over here this morning and assumed command. Tomorrow I must go down and examine the lines, which is of course dangerous; but trust I shall get back safely. I shan't go there any oftener than is necessary, but it is my duty to visit them occasionally. To give you an idea of the firing that is going on constantly, I will count the shots in the next minute. It is more quiet than usual to-night. Eighty-one, and one heavy mortar shell, which burst in the air between here and second line, but sounded as if it were in the next tent. “There!” at that moment a bullet went whizzing through between mine and the one next, just above the stockade (which is a little higher than your head when sitting), and struck down somewhere between here and Division Headquarters, near where the horses are. So you see this letter is written literally under fire. I am feeling very well, my leg is better in the saddle than it was before. I have got my valise, etc., and shall be quite comfortable in a day or two (under the circumstances), if I am spared so long. I intend to have this stockade built higher to-morrow, so as to afford more protection from bullets. If the rebs knew just where our Headquarters are, they would shell us out from here in three minutes; but fortunately they don't, and can only guess. They guess inconveniently near at times. As I may not have time to write, you can let Frank Palfrey and Ben see this letter, if you see them, and if the Nut chooses to copy it she can, and send it to Aunt.

There goes another bullet. Frank Palfrey will readily understand and appreciate our position here. I hope I shall hear from you soon. The mail comes regularly every night. I will write as often as I can. Have other letters to write to-night, so will finish this. There is one pleasant thing to relieve the wear of this, — I have a good band here at Headquarters, and it plays at intervals through the day and evening, protected by a stockade. The rebs have the benefit of it as much as I do, but I can't help it. They favor us with a band sometimes. Tell the Nut and Miss Barnett that they just played “When Johnny comes Marching Home,” and “Faust.” “Thud;” there go two ugly bullets into a tree near by, one of them, George thinks, went through the upper part of the tent. How should you like to lie down and go to sleep with this going on all night? I expect to sleep soundly. I have for two nights. With much love to all,

Ever your affectionate son,

W. F. B.

Zip prrrrrr goes the last bullet you will hear, for I close this now. That one went over to Division Headquarters. Here's another before I could get my pen off the paper. Good-night.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 110-5

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, March 29, 1865

March 29, 1865

This has been a day of manoeuvre and not much fighting. To-morrow may see something more serious. It seems like old times to be once more writing on my knee and sitting in a tent without a board floor. I prefer it; there is novelty in seeing a new bit of country. Yesterday we had an interesting trip to City Point. General Meade said to me, to my great surprise: “I am going down to-morrow to see Sherman!” Which, as I supposed Sherman to be at that moment somewhere near Goldsboro’, seemed a rather preposterous idea! At an early hour we got to Grant's Headquarters and found le monde not yet up. Soon, however, they began to peer out of their log houses and General Meade marched in to visit the great Mogul. As I was looking in that direction, there suddenly issued from the house a tall figure who jerked himself forward, pulled suddenly up, and regarded the landscape with an inquisitive and very wrinkled expression. This was the redoubtable Sherman himself. He is a very remarkable-looking man, such as could not be grown out of America — the concentrated quintessence of Yankeedom. He is tall, spare, and sinewy, with a very long neck, and a big head at the end of the same. The said big head is a most unusual combination. I mean that, when a man is spare, with a high forehead, he usually has a contracted back to his head; but Sherman has a swelling “fighting” back to his head, and all his features express determination, particularly the mouth, which is wide and straight, with lips that shut tightly together. He is a very homely man, with a regular nest of wrinkles in his face, which play and twist as he eagerly talks on each subject; but his expression is pleasant and kindly. But he believes in hard war. I heard him say: “Columbia! — pretty much all burned; and burned good!” There too was “little Phil Sheridan," scarce five feet high, with his sun-browned face and sailor air. I saw Sherman, Grant, Meade, and Sheridan, all together. A thing to speak of in after years!

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 326-7

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, March 18, 1865

March 18, 1865

This morning I sent you a telegraph, which may be rather late, I fear, though I sent it at the earliest chance. It was to ask you to pay a day's visit here, and see the army, as a curiosity. Mrs. Meade is coming with a party in a special boat from Washington. . . .

You probably are aware that yesterday was the nativity of the Holy Patrick, in whose honor the Irish Brigade, of the 2d Corps, got up a grand race, with a printed programme and every luxury. The weather, which had been most evil the night before, unexpectedly cleared up and the day was fine, exceedingly. We found the course laid out near the Cummings house, in rear of what you remember as the noted Peeble house. There was a judge's stand, flaunting with trefoil flags, and a band beside the same, which had been accommodated with a couple of waggons, in lieu of orchestra. Then there were plenty of guards (there need be no lack of such) and a tent wherein were displayed plates of sandwiches. Alas! this was the weak point, the bitter drop in the Irish festa. The brigade, with an Irish generosity, had ordered a fine collation, but the steamer, bad luck to her, had gone and run herself aground somewhere, and poor Paddy was left to eat his feast the day after the fair. Nevertheless, we didn't allow such things to stand in the way, and the races proceeded under the august auspices of General Humphreys, who didn't look exactly like a turfman, and had a mild look of amusement, as he read out: “Captain Brady's grey mare.” —  Captain Brady bows. “Captain—, Hey? What is that name? I can't read the writing.” “Murphy,” suggests General Miles. “Oh, dear me, of course, yes; Captain Murphy's bay gelding.” “No! red,” suggests Miles. “Ah, yes, to be sure — red.” “Here,” says the long-expectant Murphy. Then a bugler blows at a great rate and the horses are brought to the line; the bugler blows at a great rate some more, and away they go. There were a good many different races, some of which were rather tiresome, by reason of the long waiting and the fact that none of the horses were really racers, but only swift officers' steeds, which were not enough trained to go round regularly, but often would balk at the hurdles and refuse to go round at all. Wherefrom we had tragic consequences: for one, scared by the crowd and by the brush hurdle, bolted violently and knocked down a soldier; and Colonel von Schack, in another race, had his horse, which had overleaped, fall on him heavily.  . . . Everything was extremely quiet and orderly, and no tipsy people about. . . .

[Mrs. Meade, with a large party, including Mrs. Lyman, arrived at City Point on the evening of March 22. The next two days were spent in visiting the front, and in excursions on the river. On the morning of the 25th, it was found that the Confederates had made an unexpected attack. The visitors were shipped back to Washington, and their hosts made for the front.]

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 321-2

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, March 11, 1865

From Grant we got a despatch that he would come up, with some ladies and gentlemen, to see our left and to review a few troops. The General rode down to the terminus of the railroad (which is not very far from Hatcher's Run), and soon after came the train, with Grant and his party. Among them was our old friend Daddy Washburn, the same who came to the Rapid Ann, last May, to behold Grant swallow Lee at a mouthful, and — didn't see it! Two divisions of the 2d Corps were turned out under the eye of the redoubtable Humphreys. They made a fine appearance, marching past; but I could have cried to see the Massachusetts 20th with only a hundred muskets or so, and commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Curtis, whom I used to see at Culpeper with a lieutenant's shoulder-straps. How changed from last spring, when they passed in review with full ranks, and led by Abbot! . . .

That evening we were invited to City Point, to see a medal given to General Grant. This medal had been voted by Congress in honor of him and his soldiers, after the battle and capture of Vicksburg. And you now see the rationale of the Hon. Washburn's presence. He was to present it. The Corps commanders with a few aides, and some division commanders, were all the General took with him in the special train. We arrived about 8.30 P.M. and at 9 the ceremony began, in the upper saloon of the steamer Martyn, lying at the wharf. The solemnities were these: General Grant stood on one side of a small table, with an expression as if about to courageously have a large tooth out. On the other stood Washburn, with what seemed an ornamental cigar-box. Whereupon W., with few words, remarked that the Congress of the United States of Amerikay had resolved to present him a medal, and a copy of their resolutions engrossed on parchment. “General” (unrolling a scroll), “this is the copy of the resolutions, and I now hand it to you.” (Grant looked at the parchment, as much as to say, “That seems all right,” rolled it up, in a practical manner, and put it on the table.) “This, General” (opening the ornamental cigar-box, taking out a wooden bonbonnière and opening that), “is the medal, which I also hand to you, together with an autograph letter from President Lincoln.” The “all-right” expression repeated itself on Grant's face, as he put down the bonbonnière beside the scroll. Then he looked very fixedly at Mr. Washburn and slowly drew a sheet of paper from his pocket. Everyone was hushed, and there then burst forth the following florid eloquence: “Sir! I accept the medal. I shall take an early opportunity of writing a proper reply to the President. I shall publish an order, containing these resolutions, to the troops that were under my command before Vicksburg.” As he stopped, Major Pell drew a long breath and said: “I thought we were sure of a speech this time, but now we never shall get one out of him.” The medal was of gold, three pounds in weight; on one side a bad likeness of Grant; on the reverse a goddess, in an impossible position, who, as General Meade remarked, “seemed to keep a general furnishing shop of guns and sabres.” “What is the meaning of the allegory?” he enquired of the Lieutenant-General. “I don't know,” replied Grant, with entire simplicity, “I don't know, but I am going to learn, so as to be able to explain it to people!” Then the distinguished militaries crowded round to gaze. Major-General Ord, who can't get over his Irish blood, said: “I believe, sir, you are the first man who medalled with his battalion.” To which Grant, not taking the point in the faintest degree, replied gravely: “I don't know but I was.” There was a heavy crowd of Hectors, I can tell you. Generals Meade, Warren, Wright, Parke, Humphreys, Ord, Gibbon, Ayres, Griffin, Rawlins, Ingalls, etc., etc. Very few ladies. After this a moderate collation, and so home to bed.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 318-20

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, March 8, 1865

March 8, 1865

Yesterday, as I hinted in my last, we had a toot, of much duration. At ten A.M. the General got a telegraph (one of those charming City Point surprises) saying that a train was just then starting, holding a dozen of women-kind and a certain force of the male sex; that they would arrive in an hour or so, and that we would please rather to entertain them pretty well! We telegraphed to the 5th Corps to turn out some troops, and to General Wright, to say we were coming that way, and ordered out ambulances to go to the station, and turned out officers to go over also. Your hub, not without growls of a private sort, girded hisself with a sash and ordered the charger saddled. In due time they kim: Colonels Badeau and Babcock to guide them. As sort of chief of the honorable committee of reception, I took off my cap and was solemnly introduced to twelve distinct ladies, whose names I instantly forgot (ditto those of distinguished gentlemen accompanying), all except Mrs. General Grant, who was, of course, too well known to slip from memory. However, at the end of the day, I began to have a flickering and vague idea who some of them were. . . . Then Miss Stanton — of course I was brilliant about her. After I had more or less helped her over puddles and into ambulances for an hour or two, it occurred to me that the name of the Secretary of War was also Stanton. Then, after a period of rest, my mind roused itself to the brilliant hypothesis that this young lady might be the daughter of the Stanton who was Secretary of War. Once on this track, it did not take me over thirty minutes to satisfy myself that I actually had been rendering civilities to the offspring of him who holds the leash of the dogs of war! She is not a roarer, like her paternal, but very subdued and modest, and reminded me of the ci-devant Newport belle, Miss L–– C––.  . . . Likewise, may we here mention Bradlee père, a dried-up lawyer of New Jersey, after the fashion of the countenance of Professor Rogers. He was valiant and stuffed his trousers in his boots and clomb an exceeding tall horse, which so pleased another old party, Judge Woodruff, that he did likewise, and subsequently confessed to me that his last equestrian excursion was in 1834; from which I infer, that, at this present writing, Judge Woodruff's legs are more or less totally useless to him as instruments of progression. He had a complement, his daughter, to whom I did not say much, as she had somebody, I forget who it was. Then we must mention, in a front place, the Lady Patroness, Mrs. H––, and the Noble Patron, Mr. H––. These two seemed to take us all under their protection, and, so to speak, to run the machine. Mrs. was plump, fair, and getting towards forty. Mr. was of suitable age, stout, looked as if fond of good dinners, and apparently very tender on Mrs., for he continually smiled sweetly at her. Also he is a large legal gun and part proprietor of the Philadelphia Enquirer. Then there was a pale, no-account couple, Dr. and Mrs. G––. The Doctor's sister was Mrs. Smith, to whom Rosie attached himself with devotion that threatened the tranquillity of the absent S. All these, and more, were carted over to the Headquarters, where the General bowed them into his tent and cried out very actively: “Now Lyman, where are all my young men? I want all of them.” So I hunted all that were not already on hand, and they were introduced and were expected to make themselves as agreeable as possible. Without delay we were again en voyage (I, being sharp, got on a horse, which tended much to my physical comfort, prevented my conversation from being prematurely played out) and took the party to see the glories of the engineer camp and the chapel thereof; after which, to the model hospitals of the 6th Corps, of which Dr. Holman is the Medical Director, who prides himself on doing everything without aid from the Sanitary, which he doubtless can do, when in winter quarters. It was like packing and unpacking so many boxes, to “aussteigen” and “einsteigen” all the females. We descended them, for the third time, at Fort Fisher, whence we showed them the Reb line and the big guns, and the signal tower of trestle work, 140 feet high. The next pilgrimage was a long one, as far as the 5th Corps Headquarters, on the left of the line. General Warren issued forth and welcomed the ladies to oranges, apples, grapes, crackers, cheese, ale, and cider, into the which the visitors walked with a vigor most commendable. By the time the males had made a considerable vacuum in the barrel of ale, Griffin's division was ready for review, and thither we all went and found the gallant Humphreys, whom I carefully introduced to the prettiest young lady there, and expect to be remembered in his will for that same favor! A review of Crawford's division followed, very beautiful, with the setting sun on the bayonets; and so home to an evening lunch, so to speak, whereat I opened my “pickles,” to the great delectation of both sexes. All this was dreamland novelty concentrated to the visitors, who departed with vehement thanks to us, well expressed by Mrs. Grant: “General Meade, I would far rather command an army, as you do, than live at City Point and have the position of Mr. Grant!” They were to have a dance that night on their boat at City Point, and politely and earnestly asked me to go down with them; but the point was not noticed by your loving hub.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 314-6

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, Friday, October 11, 1864

October 11, 1864

Did I tell you of the two spies, last night? There is a redoubt on our line which had no garrison except a sergeant and two or three men. Towards sunset appeared two officers, who attracted attention, the one by having three stars on his coat arranged somewhat like those of a Rebel colonel, the other by being much concealed by a high collar and a flap hat. They asked a number of questions about the work, which so increased the suspicion that word was sent to General Meade, who ordered a regiment at once to proceed to the spot, and the sergeant to be arrested for not seizing the persons. Who do you think they were? Why, Captain Craig and Rosencrantz, taking an evening stroll! Craig has no circulation and turns up his collar whenever the mercury falls below 70 degrees. Rosie has a Swedish coat with three stars indicating a captain; hence the alarm! This morning arrived a passing visitor, Major-General Doyle, commanding in Nova Scotia. He is a Pat and is favorable to us, for a wonder; gave up the Chesapeake to us, you know. He looks as funny as Punch; indeed just like Punch — a very red edition of him, with a stiff throttled aspect, caused by an apoplectic stock, five inches high. He was a jolly old buck and much amused by a lot of civilians, who also had come up from City Point. He called them T.G.'s, signifying “travelling gents,” and, whenever we came on a redoubt, with a good abattis, he would say to the T.G's: “What do you think, hey? How would you like to attack that, hey?” Upon which the T.G's, whose pantaloons were somewhat up their legs, would look dubious. As he beheld the wonders of the land, he would exclaim: “Oh, bless my soul! why, you know, we have no idea of this at home. Oh, bless my soul!” On the road we met a Rebel deserter, who chanced to be an Irishman, whereat the Doyle was highly delighted and asked him if he got much whiskey the other side. To which Pat replied with regret, that that strengthening beverage cost $30 a quart in Secessia. After trotting him all over creation and giving him a lunch, we put him on top of the Avery house, and let him look at Rebs through a telescope; but I am sure he saw nothing, though he exclaimed, “Bless my soul!” a great deal.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 244-5

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, Friday, October 7, 1864

October 7, 1864

There is a certain General Benham, who commands the engineers at City Point, and was up about laying out some works. Channing Clapp is on his Staff. You ought to see this “Ginral.” He has the face and figure of Mr. Briggs and wears continually the expression of Mr. B. when his horse sat down at the band of music. When he had got through all the explanations, which were sufficient to have laid out a permanent work of the first class, the Meade rose with weariness, and eased his spirit by riding out and looking at my new camp-ground, and inspecting those everlasting redoubts. Now that the camp is arranged, the Meade is dubious about moving: that's like him! When we got to the extreme left, he thought he would go out and take a peek at the picket line. First there was a little bunch of cavalry. They were of a jocose turn; they had found an old pair of wheels whereon they had mounted a keg, making a very good cannon, which pointed, in a threatening manner, down the road. Its ensemble was completed by a figure, closely resembling those that defend cornfields, and which was keeping steady guard with a small pole. A hundred yards beyond was the picket reserve, behind a barricade. Then, beyond, a couple of hundred yards more, the sentries, each standing and looking sharply to the front. The one in the road was a half-breed Indian, though he looked more like a Neapolitan. He had that taciturnity that clings to the last drop of blood. “Are you a picket here?” asked the General. “Yes.” “Is there anyone on your right and left?” “No.” “You are an Indian, are you not?” “Part.” All of which the red warrior delivered, without turning his gaze from the vista before him. Beyond this gentleman was a post of two cavalry videttes. From this place we could get a very good view of one of the Rebel lines of earthworks; but there seemed very few men behind it. I could only notice one or two. And so we rode back again past the perils of the keg cannon. General Warren has a short leave, and General Crawford commands the Corps, to the indignation, I presume, of old cocks like Griffin and Ayres; for C. was doctor in Fort Sumter, and thus got a star, and thus is an old brigadier, and thus ranks the regulars G. and A. General Grant was on a flying visit to Washington to-day. I like to have him down here: first, he gives a general balance and steadiness; then, what is most important, he can order — just order what groceries he pleases, and no questions asked behind the counter!

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 241-3

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, April 1, 1865

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, April 1, 1865.

We have been moving and fighting the last three days, and I have not gone to bed till after one and two in the morning, and then up at five. We have had considerable fighting with the enemy out of his works, into which we have invariably driven him; but when there he is too strong for us, and the farther we go round to our left, we still find a formidable entrenched line. I think, however, we will this time reach the Southside Railroad, and if we do so, I should not be surprised if Lee evacuated his Petersburg lines and withdrew north of the Appomattox. Should he remain in them, he will have to stretch out so far that we may find a chance to pierce him.

Your brother Willie was wounded yesterday, not dangerously, as I telegraphed you. He left this morning, and I sent George¹ to accompany him to City Point, and if necessary to Philadelphia. Jim Biddle arrived yesterday.

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¹ Son of General Meade.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 268-9

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, March 8, 1865

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, March 8, 1865.

Yesterday about 11 A. M.. Mr. and Mrs. George Harding, with a party of ladies and gentlemen, arrived at these headquarters. Mr. Harding had telegraphed me from City Point he was coming. I took them to see the camps and works, and turned out some of the troops for them to see. Then brought them back here and gave them a lunch, with some of Lyman's champagne, and sent them back to City Point, quite delighted with their trip and all they saw. The day was a beautiful one and the roads in fine order. Mrs. Grant accompanied them and seemed as much pleased as the rest. I was glad to have it in my power to be civil to Mr. Harding, as some slight return for all he has done for me.

You will have heard of Sheridan's success in the Valley, which I trust will be continued. We are now looking with interest for news from Sherman, and to know what force the enemy have been able to collect to confront him.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 266

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, February 28, 1865

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, February 28, 1865.

After writing to you yesterday I saw the Secretary, who was as usual very kind. He apologized for ordering me away when he did, and said he had forgotten dear Sergeant's sickness, and some telegrams coming from Ord he did not like, he thought, in Grant's absence, I had better be there. He wanted me to stay in Washington over night, but I declined, when he directed a special steamer to be got ready to take me at seven in the evening. From the Department I went to the Capitol, where I saw Mr. Cowan and Judge Harris. They both said they would see that the same number of copies of the proceedings of the court of inquiry were ordered to be printed as had been ordered of the committee's report.

I had a pleasant journey, there being no one on board but General Wheaton and myself. We reached City Point at 1 P. M. to-day. I spent two hours with General Grant, reaching my headquarters about half-past four this afternoon.

I find we have not been attacked, and Petersburg has not been evacuated, although I should judge there had been a stampede ever since I left, and that both contingencies had been expected. It has been raining, I am told, nearly all the time I have been absent, and the roads are in an awful condition.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 265

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, August 18, 1864

August 18, 1864

Last night I had got well into the first sound sleep, when images of war began to intrude on my dreams, and these, taking on a more corporeal form, gradually waked me enough to prove to my mind that there was a big racket going on. The noise of a few shells and many muskets I don't mind, as I am used to it, but, when it comes to firing heavy mortar shells in salvos, one is authorized to sit up in bed, even if it is one in the morning. Once awake, I recognized the fact that the largest kind of a cannonade was going on. The still, damp air was filled with the detonations of all sorts of big guns and projectiles. It was quite as extensive as the firing on the morning of the mine and sounded very much louder, in the night. Our side replied rather moderately, but the enemy kept up one roar of batteries for some two hours, and the air was full of the humming and bursting of the shells. At the end of that time they stopped, rather suddenly. We expended some 1500 rounds of ammunition and they must have fired much more, and all to kill and wound thirty men.  . . . The great joke of the matter was, that General Meade (who is a sound sleeper, and was a little deaf from a cold in the head) remained calmly in the arms of Morpheus, till a telegraph from Grant at City Paint, came in, asking what all that firing was about! It so happened that the General woke just at a lull in the cannonade; so he didn't understand the despatch, but called the officer of the night to know if he had heard any more firing than usual! You should have seen the deshabille parade of officers in the camp: such a flitting of figures in a variety of not much clothing! General Humphreys said: “Yes, perhaps it would be well to have the horses saddled; for,” he added with a hopeful smile, “we may have a scrimmage, you know.” But he was disappointed, and we all went to bed again.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 216-7

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, August 16, 1864

August 16, 1864

I have been well content to get your letter this afternoon. In regard to what you say for the troops for the assault,¹ it is true that General Meade should have ordered in the best — and so he did. Express orders were given to put in the best troops and have the division generals lead them if necessary. General Meade made examinations in person of the enemy's lines, and the orders drawn up by General Humphreys were more than usually elaborated. People have a vulgar belief that a General commanding a great army can, and ought to arrange in person every detail. This is not possible, nor is it desirable; the corps and division commanders would at once say: “Very well, if you have not enough confidence in me to let me carry on the ordinary business of my command, I ought to be relieved.” I see great discussion in the papers as to the conduct of the negroes. I say, as I always have, that you never, in the long run, can make negroes fight with success against white men. When the whole weight of history is on one side, you may be sure that side is the correct one. I told General Meade I had expressed myself strongly, at home, against the imported Dutchmen, to which he replied: “Yes, if they want to see us licked, they had better send along such fellers as those!” As I said before, the Pats will do: not so good as pure Yanks, but they will rush in and fight. There was a report at first that Colonel Macy of the 20th Massachusetts was mortally wounded, but I have since heard that it is not so. On Sunday, he had command of a brigade, and had his horse killed: he then came back, got another horse from Barlow and returned to the front. This horse either was shot or reared over with him, frightened by the firing, and crushed him badly. Let me see, I told you this before; never mind, you will be sure now to know it. Sometimes I get rather mixed because I write often a few words about a day, on the eve of the same, and then detail it more at length afterwards. The Rebels got well alarmed about Hancock and sent reinforcements, recalling troops that had started to help Early in the valley; an important point gained. Hancock had some hard fighting to-day, with considerable success, taking several hundred prisoners and driving the enemy. The Rebel General Chambliss was killed, and we found on him a valuable map containing the fortifications of Richmond. They also are said to have killed a General Gherrard; but I have an idea there is no such General in their service.² Perhaps he was a new appointment, or a colonel commanding a brigade. As to giving you an account of the engagement, it would be out of the question; as it is a perfect muddle to me. I only know that Gregg, with a cavalry division, went out on the Richmond road, to within six and one half miles of the city, and encountered a big crowd of infantry and had to come back. Barlow had to leave his division, sick, and go to friend Dalton, at City Point.

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¹ When the mine was exploded.

² It was Brig. Gen. Victor J. B. Girardey.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 214-6

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, August 9, 1864

August 9, 1864

In the forenoon, as we were sitting in camp, we heard a noise, like a quick, distant clap of thunder, but sharper. We concluded it must be an explosion, from the sound, and in a few minutes came a telegraph from Grant, at City Point, saying that an ordnance barge had blown up, with considerable loss of life. I think the number of killed will not exceed thirty-five; and, of the wounded, perhaps eighty; at first they thought there were many more. The greater part of the injured were negroes employed as wharf-laborers. To return to the explosion: Rosy, Worth, Cavada, and Cadwalader were at Grant's Headquarters, and they said it perfectly rained shells, shot, bullets, pieces of timber, and saddles (of these latter there was a barge load near by). Two dragoons were killed, close to them, and a twelve-pounder solid shot went smash into a mess-chest in the tent. The only man who, at the first shock, ran towards the scene of terror was Lieutenant-General Grant, which shows his kind of character very well. We dined very pleasantly with Dalton. You should see his town of tents, with regular streets — accommodation easy for 8000 patients. Everything as neat as a pin. Steam-engine to pump water from the river; every patient of the 4000 on a cot; the best of food for all; and the most entire cleanliness. When Dalton heard the explosion, he jumped on his feet, and, true to his instincts, cried out: “Harness the ambulances!”

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 209-10

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, February 1, 1865

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, February 1, 1865.

I reached City Point at twelve o'clock last night, having had a very comfortable journey via Annapolis. We found a good deal of ice in the Chesapeake Bay and considerable in the James River; but to-day has been so mild and pleasant I think the ice will disappear.

From all I can gather, the Secretary's telegram must have been based on something Ord sent to Washington; for Grant did not return till Monday night, and in ignorance of Mr. Stanton's telegram, sent me one himself, yesterday morning.

I found on my arrival, last night, that three distinguished gentlemen, Mr. Alexander Stephens (Vice President of the Confederacy), Mr. R. M. T. Hunter (formerly United States Senator from Virginia), and Mr. Campbell, of Alabama (formerly Judge United States Supreme Court), were in our lines, having been passed in by General Grant, on their expressing a wish to go to Washington. After Grant had admitted them, he received a telegram from Washington directing they be retained outside our lines until a messenger despatched from Washington could arrive. They are now awaiting this messenger. They do not profess to be accredited commissioners, but state they are informal agents, desiring to visit the President and ascertain if any measures are practicable for the termination of the war. I called this morning, with General Grant, on them, and remained after General Grant left, and talked very freely with them. I told them very plainly what I thought was the basis on which the people of the North would be glad to have peace, namely, the complete restoration of the Union and such a settlement of the slavery question as should be final, removing it forever as a subject of strife. Mr. Stephens suggested that, if we could stop fighting, the matter might be discussed. I told him promptly that was entirely out of the question; that we could not stop fighting unless it was for good, and that he might be assured any proposals based on a suspension of hostilities would not be received. Mr. Stephens then said they did not consider the slavery question as so formidable a difficulty, but they feared the difficulty would be to obtain such modification of the old Constitution as would protect the States, in case of other questions arising to produce strife. I said if you mean to propose a reorganization and change in our Government, I don't think you will meet with any success. We are satisfied with our Constitution, and you seem to be, since yours is identically ours, excepting the protection you give to slavery. Mr. Hunter then asked me what we proposed to do with the slaves after freeing them, as it was well known they would not work unless compelled. I replied this was undoubtedly a grave question, but not insurmountable; that they must have labor, and the negroes must have support; between the two necessities I thought some system could be devised accommodating both interests, which would not be so obnoxious as slavery. They then said they thought it a pity this matter could not be left to the generals on each side, and taken out of the hands of politicians. I answered I had no doubt a settlement would be more speedily attained in this way, but I feared there was no chance for this.

We then conversed on general topics. Judge Campbell asked after your family, and Mr. Hunter spoke of Mr. Wise, and said he had brought two letters with him, one of which I herewith enclose.

I judge from my conversation that there is not much chance of peace; I fear we will split on the questions of an armistice and State rights. Still, I hope Mr. Lincoln will receive them and listen to all they have to say, for if it can be shown that their terms are impracticable, the country will be united for the further prosecution of the war. At the same time the selection of three most conservative of Southern men indicates most clearly to my mind an anxiety on the part of Mr. Davis to settle matters if possible. All this I have written you must be confidential, as it would not do to let it be known I had been talking with them, or what I said.

I do most earnestly pray something may result from this movement. When they came within our lines our men cheered loudly, and the soldiers on both sides cried out lustily, “Peace! peace!” This was intended as a compliment, and I believe was so taken by them.

I am sorry I could not stay longer with you, but I don't believe I should have had any satisfaction, as every report brought in would have a recall telegram.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 258-60

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, August 4, 1864

August 4, 1864

This was quite a festal day for us. The General, accompanied by the Frenchies, Rosencrantz, Bache, Biddle and myself, paid a grand visit to Butler. Butler was in high feather. He is as proud of all his “fixin's” as a farmer over a prime potato patch. We first got on the Greyhound, an elegant steamer (Butler believes in making himself comfortable), and proceeded down the Appomattox, past City Point, and then bore up the James, passing Bermuda Hundred, with its flotilla of schooners and steamers.  . . . We had got a good bit above Bermuda Hundred and were paddling along bravely when we came in sight of two gunboats; that is, common steamers with some heavy guns on board. There are many in the river and they go up and down to keep it clear. As we drew near, I saw the men were at quarters and the guns run out. We passed between the first boat and the high wooded bank, when I beheld the gunboat captain dancing up and down on the paddle-box and roaring to us: “The left bank is lined with sh-a-a-rpshooters!” It would have edified you to have seen the swift dignity with which General Meade and his gallant Staff stepped from the open, upper deck to the shady seclusion of the cabin! Our skipper jingled “Stop her,” with his engine-room bell, and stop she did. Here was a chance for war-god Butler. “Hey? What? Sharpshooters? Pshaw! Fiddledeedee! Stop her! Who said stop her? Mr. DeRay, tell the Captain to go on, instantly!” And Butler danced out on the open deck and stood, like George II at Dettingen, in “an attitude of fence.” I, who looked for a brisk volley of musketry, fully expected to see him get a bullet in his extensive stomach. Meanwhile the Captain went on, and, as soon as we were clear, the naval party in the rear (or “astern,” we ought to say) let go one big gun, with a tremendous whang! and sent a projectile about the size of a flour barrel on shore, severely wounding a great many bushes and trees. The other gunboat went ahead of us and kept up a little marine combat, all on her own hook. Whether there really were sharpshooters, I know not: I only think, if there were, it would be difficult to say which party was the more scared. . . .

Finally we went on shore where our horses were waiting, for this is not over three and a half miles from the Appomattox, though it is fifteen or sixteen miles round by the river. From the top of the cliff we had a splendid view of the cultivated country towards Richmond. And so, after inspecting more of Benjamin's apple-pie batteries, we went home.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 204-6

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, July 20, 1864

July 20, 1864

Our camp was this morning taken by assault by a cavalcade which turned out to be Major-General Ben F. Butler and a portion of his Staff. He is the strangest sight on a horse you ever saw: it is hard to keep your eyes off him. With his head set immediately on a stout shapeless body, his very squinting eyes, and a set of legs and arms that look as if made for somebody else, and hastily glued to him by mistake, he presents a combination of Victor Emmanuel, Ӕsop, and Richard III, which is very confusing to the mind. Add to this a horse with a kind of rapid, ambling trot that shakes about the arms, legs, etc., till you don't feel quite sure whether it is a centaur, or what it is, and you have a picture of this celebrated General. Celebrated he surely is, and a man of untiring industry and activity. Woe to those who stand up against him in the way of diplomacy! Let the history of “Baldy” Smith be a warning to all such. It is an instructive one, and according to camp rumor, runs thus. It was said that Smith, relying on his reputation with Grant, had great ideas of shelving Butler, and Fame even reported that he had ideas also of giving Meade a tilt overboard. So what do we see but an order stating that Major-General Smith was to command the “forces of the field” of the Department, while Major-General Butler would continue to command the Department, with his “Headquarters at Fortress Monroe.” Next day everybody says: “So, Butler has gone.” Not exactly. Butler was still there, precisely as before. “As long as I command the Department, I command its troops; therefore, Headquarters where I please. I please here.” Off goes Smith to Washington, mysteriously. Down pounces Butler on City Point. Long confab with General Grant. Back comes Smith comfortably and is confronted by an order to “proceed at once to New York and await further orders!” Thus did Smith the Bald try the Macchiavelli against Butler the cross-eyed, and got floored at the first round! “Why did he do so?” asked Butler, with the easy air of a strong man. “I had no military ambition; he might have had all that. I have more important things in view!” Speaking of Butler's visit, he had sent him an aide without consulting him, and Benjamin thought it a good chance to hit Halleck over the aide's head. “Aide-de-camp, sir! Ordered on my Staff, sir! I 'm sure I do not know what you are to do. I have really nothing for you. All the positions are filled. Now there is General Halleck, what has he to do? At a moment when every true man is laboring to his utmost, when the days ought to be forty hours long, General Halleck is translating French books at nine cents a page; and, sir, if you should put those nine cents in a box and shake them up, you would form a clear idea of General Halleck's soul!”

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 192-3