Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: July 15, 1864

Came off picket very early. A fine morning. The army again on the march. Our regiment in the rear, waiting for orders. Passed through Knoxville, pushing on to Berlin, Maryland. Coming to a halt discovered the advance wading the Potomac River, over into Virginia, the Loudon Valley country. At this point there was a stony ridge running diagonal across the river. At low water it could be forded. At this time the water was about waist deep and the stones were very slippery. In order to keep our ammunition and rations dry we carried our equipments and haversacks fastened to the muzzle of our muskets, over our shoulder. Some of the boys lost their footing, went down under the water, getting a ducking. There was much laughing, joking, and shouting, in spite of the wetting we were all getting. On reaching the Virginia shore no time to halt, not even to stop and pour the water out of our shoes. Must push on in our wet clothes over dusty roads which soon formed a mud covering. After a time our clothes began to dry as we marched on in the hot sun, the dirt dropping off. By night our clothes were all dry and we were all in better spirits. Many reports are in circulation that we are following on after the rebs under the command of Jubal Early, who have been raiding into Maryland. Late tonight camp near Hillsborough.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 98-9

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Anna Jackson Lowell, June 5, 1863

Camp Brightwood, June 5, 1863.

I do not see what you and Mr. Child find to be so hopeful about, — I see no evidence of yielding on their part, and no evidence of greater vigour on ours; we are again on the defensive as we were last August, — are again idle for want of troops, — and Lee will again be in Maryland without a doubt. I do not think this at all a hopeless state of things, but I see no prospect of any immediate end, which, I suppose, is what you are looking for.¹ The people are of a more resolute temper than at this time last year, but, on the other hand, party lines are drawing more distinctly, and I should not be surprised to see exhibitions of disloyalty in some of our Northern cities; these will be put down, and in the end the Government will be the stronger for them, but meanwhile may not military operation be embarrassed and perhaps postponed? Do you remember, Mother, how soon another Presidential canvass is coming round? I seriously fear that that, too, will be allowed to delay very vigorous operations, — and all this time the South is growing stronger. However, we may get Vicksburg, and may cripple Lee, if he comes into Maryland. I think we are altogether too apt to forget the general aspect of affairs and regard single events as of entire importance: this makes any predictions useless, — it would operate for us in case of success as it has hitherto operated against us: but so far from feeling hopeful, I am sometimes inclined to believe that we are going to see a change: that whereas we have had few victories, but have been on the whole successful, we are now going to gain victories and find them comparatively useless.

_______________

¹ Professor Francis J. Child, the accomplished and genial scholar, Boylston Professor of Rhetoric and Oratory, later of English, at Harvard College, and remembered by his admirable editing of English and Scottish Ballads, was an ardent and useful patriot. His spirited collection, War Songs for Freemen, set to stirring tunes, were sung in the college yard by youths, many of whom soon left their studies for the front.

This letter shows surprising foresight in Lowell. Lee's invasion began immediately afterward, was checked at Gettysburg, and Vicksburg fell before Grant; but within a week draft riots in Boston and New York, dangerous and bloody, broke out and were sternly suppressed. In spite of the defeats, the Rebel power was not broken. The Presidential election was a great victory, and England did not dare to aid the Confederates; yet the war dragged slowly until Grant's advance on Richmond began, in May. In spite of his siege of Richmond, Washington was again endangered in July, 1864, and Maryland and Pennsylvania threatened by Early even later.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 253-5

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, August 11, 1864

August 11, 1864

Sheridan has been appointed to command all the upper Potomac forces, which is saying that he is to command all the troops to drive Early out of the Shenandoah Valley. He is a Major-General, and is an energetic and very brave officer. This command, however, is a very large one, larger than he ever before had. I have little doubt, that, for field-service, he is superior to any officer there. Things are cooking, and the Rebels will find they must fag away still, as well as we. I do not exactly know if Meade likes this appointment: you see they have taken one of his corps, added much of his cavalry and many other troops to it, and then given the command to his Chief of Cavalry, while he [Meade] is left, with a reduced force, at this somewhat negative Petersburg business. I rode out just at dark, and from an “elevated position,” as Smith would say, watched the flashes of the sharpshooters, and the fires of the camp.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 210-1

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, July 13, 1864

July 13, 1864

. . . I hear this evening that General Wright has been put in command of all forces to repel the invasion.¹ But our attempt to bag the raiders may be somewhat like the domestic rural scene of surrounding an escaped pig in the vegetable garden. Don't you know how half a dozen men will get in a circle about him, and then cautiously advance, with an expression of face between confidence and timidity? The piggie stands still in the midst, with a small and a treacherous eye. Suddenly, picking out the weakest man, he makes an unexpected rush between his legs, upsets him, and canters away midst an impotent shower of sticks! I suppose you think I take a very light view of things, but in reality I do not; only, after seeing so many fine men knocked over, this business of tearing up tracks and eating all the good wife's fresh butter seems of lesser consequence. Another thing is, I hope it will do us good, sting us to the quick, and frighten us into a wholesome draft. You must remember that this sort of raiding has been a continual and every-day thing in the southern country, though to us it seems to be so awful.

The mail man who came down to-night says they are in a great tremble at Washington, while down here we are pleasantly building bowers against the sun, and telling stories to wile away the time. To these last our French Colonel contributes many, of the Midi, which, with the peculiar accent, are very laughable. To illustrate the egotistical ideas of the Marseillais, he told of a father who was showing to his son a brigade of Zouaves who had just come from Italy and were marching through the streets. “Mon enfant! Vois-tu ces Zouaves? Eh bien, ils sont tous-e des Marseillais. II y avait des Parisiens, mais on les a mis dans la musique!” You remember that long, hot street there they call the Canebiere. A certain citizen, who had just been to see Paris with its present improvements, returned much gratified. “Ah,” said he, “Paris est une bien jolie ville; si, ça avait une Canebiere, ça serait un petit Marseille." As an offset to which we must have an anecdote of this region. Did I ever tell you of “Shaw,” the valet of Hancock (formerly of General French)? This genius is a regular specimen of the ne'er-do-weel, roving, jack-of-all-trades Englishman. I fancy from his manner that he has once been a head servant or butler in some crack British regiment. He has that intense and impressive manner, only to be got, even by Bulls, in years of drill. He is a perfect character, who no more picks up anything American, than a duck's feathers soak water. He is full of low-voiced confidence. “Oh, indeed, sir! The General rides about a vast deal in the dust, sir. I do assure you, that to-day, when he got in, his undergarments and his hose were quite soiled, sir!”

“That fellow,” said Hancock, “is the most inquisitive and cool man I ever saw. Now I don't mind so much his smoking all my cigars and drinking all my liquors — which he does — but I had a bundle of most private papers which I had hidden in the bottom of my trunk, and, the other day, I came into my tent and there was Mr. Shaw reading them! And, when I asked him what the devil he meant, he said: “Oh, General, I took the liberty of looking at them, and now I am so interested, I hope you will let me finish the rest!”

______________

¹ Early's advance on Washington.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 190-2

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, July 6, 1864

July 6, 1864

We have no rain here — never expect any; air hazy with a faint dust, finer than twice volted flour, which settles on everything — but that won't kill anybody. So Ewell is (or was — don't know his whereabouts at this precise moment) at Harper's Ferry. We knew he was poking up there somewhere. As to the A. of P., it is sitting here, trying to get some fresh cabbages, not very successfully, so far — the last issue, I am told, furnished one small one to every fifteen men. Old Uncle Lee is “in posish,” as General Williams would say, and seems to remark: “Here I am; I have sent off Ewell; now why don't you come on?” I suppose you think I speak flippantly of what the French call the “situation”; but one gets so desperate that it is no use to be serious. Last night, after I had got to bed, I heard the officer of the day go with a despatch into the General's tent and wake him up. Presently the General said: “Very well, tell General Wright to send a good division. I suppose it will be Ricketts's.” And he turned over and went asleep again. Not so Ricketts, who was speedily waked up and told to march to City Point, thence to take steamers for Washington, or rather for Baltimore. We do not appreciate now, how much time, and labor, and disappointment, and reorganization, and turning out bad officers, have to be done, before an army can be got in such condition that a division of several thousand men may be suddenly waked at midnight and, within an hour or so, be on the march, each man with his arms and ammunition ready, and his rations in his haversack. Now, nobody thinks of it. General Meade says, “Send Ricketts”; and turns over and goes to sleep. General Ricketts says, “Wake the Staff and saddle the horses.” By the time this is done, he has written some little slips of paper, and away gallop the officers to the brigade commanders, who wake the regimental, who wake the company, who wake the non-commissioned, who wake the privates. And each particular private, uttering his particular oath, rises with a groan, rolls up his shelter-tent, if he has one, straps on his blanket, if he has not long since thrown it away, and is ready for the word “Fall in!” When General Ricketts is informed that all are ready, he says: “Very well, let the column move” — or something of that sort. There is a great shouting of “By the right flank, forward!” and off goes Ricketts, at the head of his troops, bound for City Point; and also bound, I much regret to say, for the Monocacy,¹ where I fancy his poor men stood up and did all the fighting. From what I hear, I judge we had there about 10,000, of whom a good part were next to worthless. The Rebs had, I think, some 12,000, all good troops. This General Wallace is said by officers here to be no general at all, though brave; and General Tyler is the man whom General Humphreys had tried for cowardice, or some misbehavior in the presence of the enemy; and who has, in consequence, an undying hate for the Chief-of-Staff. I remember thinking to myself, as I went to sleep — “division — why don't they send a corps and make a sure thing?” Behold my military forethought!

_______________

¹ Monocacy Bridge — the scene of Early's defeat of Lew Wallace, which terrified Washington, and caused much consternation in the North.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 184-5

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

July 4, 1864

What shall I say of the Fourth? Our celebration could not well amount to much; the men have to stay too close in camp to do such things. The band came in the morning and serenaded, and there was saluting enough in the form of cannon and mortars from our right. This siege — if you choose to call it a siege — is a curious illustration of the customs of old soldiers. On the right — say from the Appomattox to a point opposite the Avery house — the lines are very close and more or less of siege operations are going on; so every finger, or cap, or point of a gun that shows above the works, is instantly shot at, in addition to which batteries and mortars are firing intermittently. Nothing could be more hostile! But pass to the division a little to the left of this, where our lines swing off from the enemy's, and you have a quite reversed state of things. There is not a shot! Behold the picket men, no longer crouching closely in their holes, but standing up and walking about, with the enemy's men, in like fashion, as near to them, in some places, as the length of the Brookline house. At one part, there was a brook between, and our pickets, or theirs, when they want water, hold up a canteen, and then coolly walk down to the neutral stream. All this truce is unofficial, but sacred, and is honorably observed. Also it is a matter of the rank and file. If an officer comes down, they get uneasy and often shout to him to go back, or they will shoot. The other day General Crawford calmly went down, took out an opera-glass and began staring. Very quickly a Reb was seen to write on a scrap of paper, roll it round a pebble and throw it over to our line. Thereon was writ this pithy bit of advice: “Tell the fellow with the spy-glass to clear out, or we shall have to shoot him.” Near this same spot occurred a ludicrous thing, which is true, though one would not believe it if seen in a paper. A Reb, either from greenness or by accident, fired his musket, whereupon our people dropped in their holes and were on the point of opening along the whole line, when the Rebs waved their hands and cried: “Don't shoot; you'll see how we'll fix him!” Then they took the musket from the unfortunate grey-back, put a rail on his shoulder, and made him walk up and down for a great while in front of their rifle-pits! If they get orders to open, they call out, “Get into your holes, Yanks, we are ordered to fire”; and their first shots are aimed high, as a sort of warning. Their liberties go too far sometimes, as when two deliberately walked up to our breastwork to exchange papers; whereat General Crawford refused to allow them to return, saying very properly that the truce was not official, and that they had chosen to leave their own works and come over to ours, and that now they could carry back information of our position. They expected an attack on the 4th of July — I suppose as a grand melodramatic stroke on Grant's part; but, instead thereof, the Maryland brigade brought up their band to the trenches and played “Hail Columbia”; upon which, to the surprise of everyone, a North Carolina regiment, lying opposite, rose as a man and gave three cheers! The news is not precisely cheery from Maryland.¹ With the preparations on foot, we ought to bag a large part of the Rebels; but I have a sublime confidence that the movements of our troops will, as usual, be a day too late. . . .

_______________

¹ Early’s invasion of Maryland and, advance upon Washington.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 181-2