Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, April 4, 1863

April 4.

Tomorrow I hear we are to pull up stakes and go on picket duty. This is not easy work, but work of any kind is preferable to inactivity. Dr. Minor is down with intermittent fever. I scarcely know how to spare him. I was obliged to send John Quincy to the Beaufort Hospital.

. . . Mrs. General Lander¹ drew up her splendid steed before my tent door this afternoon and assured me she would do all in her power for our General Hospital for colored soldiers, now being established in Beaufort.

It is yet undecided who the surgeon will be and I am somewhat solicitous about it. Very few surgeons will do precisely the same for blacks as they would for whites, and I know of no people more susceptible to the benign influence of kind words than these long-suffering blacks.

Mrs. Lander told me that the sixth Connecticut boys were full of praises of the bravery of our regiment.

_______________

¹ Jean Margaret Davenport, widow of Major-Gen. Frederick William Lander.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 385-6

Diary of John Hay: October 12, 1861

To-night the President went to Seward's, I with him. At the door a telegram was handed him from McClellan stating that the enemy was before him in force and would probably attack in the morning. “If they attack,” he added, “I shall beat them.” We went to Seward’s and talked of many things. Seward spoke of Lander’s restlessness and griefs at inaction; his offered resignation, and resolve to go West and begin again, — that watching the Potomac was not congenial, and other such. Gen. Scott was already fixing his orders for exactly the work he wanted to do.

Col. Scott came in with despatches from McCl., ordering Hooker’s Bladensburg Brigade in — one countermanding and one reaffirming. Scott then went out to order transportation for 6,000.

G. V. Fox came in and began to talk about the great expedition that is fitting at Annapolis. He wants, when they have sailed, to have 14,000 more men detached from the Army of the Potomac to be held in readiness awaiting the result of the expedition. If it causes a retreat of the rebels, then this additional force can be easily spared. The fleet will probably sail on Tuesday, and will have some work to do at Fernandina, Pensacola, Mobile. Gen'l Scott told Fox that 3,500 men would be enough to take Mobile, assisted by their ships. Fox himself seemed very confident that the expedition would succeed. His only nervousness was in relation to submarine batteries which modern science has rendered very destructive and entirely feasible.

Seward spoke also of Motley’s despatch which seems to contain a most cheering account of honest sympathy existing in the best class of English society towards us. Motley’s letter embraced free and cordial conversations with Earl Russell, Earl Grey, Cobden, Mr. Layard, Prince Albert and the Queen.

There was much talk of Daniel Webster, in which the financial sansouciism of the great man was strikingly prominent. Seward thought he would not live, nor Clay, a tithe as long as J. Q. Adams. The President disagreed with him, and thought Webster will be read forever.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 42-4; Tyler Dennett, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and Letters of John Hay, p. 27-8.

Diary of John Hay: October 10, 1861

To-night I went over to McClellan’s quarters with the Tycoon and Seward. Lander was with us part of the way. Lander was gasconading a little. He said he would like a good place to die in with a corporal's guard, to set the nation right in the face of the world after the cowardly shame of Bull Run. The President, as Lander walked off, said: — “If he really wanted a job like that, I could give it to him. Let him take his squad and go down behind Manassas and break up their railroad.” Seward said he disbelieved in personal courage as a civilised institution. He had always acted on the opposite principle, — admitting you are scared, and assuming that the enemy is. If this matter had been managed on his basis, it would have been arranged satisfactorily before now.

We came to McClellan’s quarters and met in the telegraph office a long and awkward youth who spoke in a high-pitched and rapid tone to Seward, “We are just in from a ride of all day.” Seward introduced him to me as Capt. Orleans. He went up-stairs to call McClellan, and the President said quietly: “One doesn't like to make a messenger of the King of France, as that youth, the Count of Paris, would be, if his family had kept the throne.”

McClellan came hurriedly in and began to talk with the President. They discussed the events of to-day and yesterday. McClellan was much pleased at the conduct of his men — no rowdyism or plundering to-day. He was merely to-day finishing yesterday's work. The rest of this week will be used in the same way. Says the President: —“We have gained a day on our sea expedition. The vessels will leave on the 14th, it is thought, instead of the 15th.”

As we left, McClellan said: — “I think we shall have our arrangements made for a strong reconnoissance about Monday, to feel the strength of the army. I intend to be careful and do as well as possible. Don't let them hurry me is all I ask.” “You shall have your own way in the matter, I assure you,” said the President, and went home.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 40-2; Tyler Dennett, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and Letters of John Hay, p. 26-7.

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Thursday March 6, 1862

Snow two or three inches deep on top of the mud. Dr. Webb and Adjutant Avery started for Raleigh in the storm, or rather on the snow and mud. There is no storm, merely snowing. P. M., with Captain McMullen and Lieutenant Bottsford rode out toward Bowyer's Ferry; horses “balled” badly; fired a few pistol shots. My Webby (new) shies some and was decidedly outraged when I fired sitting on his back. Practiced sabre exercise. Evening, heard the telegraphic news; General Lander's death, the only untoward event. How many of the favorites are killed! General Lyon, Colonel Baker, Major Winthrop, and now General Lander. I should mention Colonel Ellsworth also. He was a popular favorite, but by no means so fine or high a character as the others. Army in Tennessee “marching on.” The newspapers and the telegraph are under strict surveillance. Very little of army movements transpire[s]. On the upper Potomac a movement seems to be making on the enemy's left in the direction of Winchester. Night, very cold — very.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 203

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, March 5, 1862

Headquarters Co. B, Berryville Tollhouse,

Charlestown, Va., March 5, 1862.

You see by my elaborate heading that we have not moved since my last letter was written. General Banks has about eight thousand troops in town; General Sedgwick has about ten thousand at Harper's Ferry. I believe that ten or twelve thousand more are to join Banks from Williamsport, what was formerly Lander's division; then, I imagine, all will be ready for an onward movement to Winchester or elsewhere.

I sent, day before yesterday, a few papers I picked up in Andrew Hunter's office. This latter gentleman is some great man in the Confederate Senate; his office is occupied by some of our officers. He was the lawyer employed by the Government in the John Brown case, and those who had the first dip into his legal papers found some very interesting documents; such as a letter from Governor Wise to Mr. Hunter before the trial came on, saying that he had made up his mind not to pardon John Brown or any of his accomplices, but that every one should suffer death. There was another anonymous letter from Boston implicating T. W. Higginson, Sanborn and others; also letters from the different prisoners suing for pardon.

Three of our companies are quartered in the Court House; one is in a printing office, from which they have issued various bulletins, such as, “Confederate notes to be had at par;” “Hard bread to be exchanged for chickens;” “Gas wanted by Company D, for the Union Theatre.” Our mess has a room formerly occupied by a secesh confectioner; it still retains the smell of peppermint. I drank some rye coffee, the other day, and liked it very much; with cream and sugar, it makes a very good drink. Marching orders! I close for the present.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 40-1

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

Camp Benton,

Saturday Night, October 25, 1861.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Volleys on right of us,

Volleys on left of us,

Volleys in front of us,

Battled and thundered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Headquarters Twentieth Regt. Mass. Vols.,

Camp Benton, October 23.

General Order No. —

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

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

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

By order Commanding Officer.

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

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

Col. W. Raymond Lee, missing, prisoner (unhurt).

Major P. J. Revere, missing, prisoner (unhurt).

Dr. E. H. R. Revere, missing, prisoner (unhurt).

Adj. C. L. Peirson, missing, prisoner.

Lieut. G. B. Perry, missing, prisoner.

Lieut. Wesselhoeft, missing, probably drowned.

Capt. Babo, missing, probably drowned.

Lieut. W. L. Putnam, wounded, since died.

Capt. G. A. Schmitt, wounded badly, doing well.

Lieut. Lowell, wounded slightly (flesh), doing well.

Capt. Dreher, wounded in the head, doing well.

Capt. Putnam (John), wounded (lost right arm), doing well.

Lieut. Holmes (O. W.), wounded (breast), doing well.

A sad report, but it might have been worse.

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

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

First Sergt. Riddle (W. R.), wounded, right arm shattered.

Corp. Thomas Hollis, wounded (finger shot off), doing well.

Private A. M. Barber, wounded (right arm), doing well.

A. Davis, killed, shot through heart.

Thomas Dolan, wounded, finger shot off.

Lewis Dunn, missing, probably shot.

W. F. Hill, missing, probably shot.

Albert Kelly, missing, probably shot.

M. V. Kempton, missing, probably a prisoner.

Sam. Lowell, missing, probably a prisoner.

Tete McKenna (my pet and pride), missing, took the water, probably shot.

G. C. Pratt, wounded badly (will recover).

Julius Strick, wounded (right arm).

James Seddon, wounded (heel), doing well.

Albert Stackpole, wounded, since died.

George G. Worth, missing, probably shot swimming.

Summerhays, wounded slightly in the hand.

O. Gammons, wounded, finger shot off.

E. V. Skinner, missing, perhaps a prisoner.

I. Barker, missing, perhaps a prisoner.

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

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

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

W.

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

Captain William Francis Bartlett to Harriett Plummer Bartlett, September 25, 1861

Headquarters Twentieth Regiment Mass. Volunteers,

Camp Benton, Edwards' Ferry, Md.

September 24, 1861.

Dear Mother :—

September 25, 9 A. M. I had just sat down to write a long letter last eve. (my first opportunity for a week), when an orderly from General Lander brought me written orders to take command of a detachment for service down at the river. So I had to stop just where I was. I was disappointed, because I had made up my mind to seize this my first spare eve., and do nothing else but write.

I received five letters to-day from home, dated the 21st, 20th, 18th, 17th, and 16th, respectively. They have been lying in Washington. Also a Boston paper, 17th. There are so many questions in each one, that it would be useless to try and answer them separately, so I will continue my story from where I left off.

I was in command of a battalion of three companies and a section of the Third R. I. Battery, in an advance position on the banks of the Potomac. I also had with me a detachment of thirty sharpshooters under Captain Saunders. I was recalled with my command Saturday night, and marched home in a drenching rain six miles.

The last night I was there I suspected an attack. I doubled the guards, set an extra picket of sharpshooters on the shore of the river, and made every man in the command sleep on his gun with all his equipments on. I was up all night, round the camp and down at the river. We could see the lights of the pickets just across the river. About midnight, one of the boats on this side got loose and floated off. I had to strip and swim after it. It was a cold bath at that time of night. I did not take any cold. I am beyond that now. We saw nothing of the enemy. I lay down under a tree about 4 A. M. and slept an hour or two.

They are erecting a battery on the other side of the river here, a fortified camp. Sunday I had a little time to sleep, having been without it for so long.

Sunday night I was going to have a good sleep, when at half-past six orders came to march for the river, information having been received that the rebels had crossed in force a little way up. I was put in command of a battalion of three companies, and ordered to march to the ferry, and thence up the tow path of the canal about four miles. I marched them at single file, open order. I marched ahead with a few sharpshooters. We bivouacked on the path, where we halted. It was very wet before morning. We returned to camp by daylight, without having a skirmish. That night, Monday, I got some sleep. As I said before, I expected to write all last night, Tuesday. But at seven, orders came to fall in. I received command of half the regiment, all that was sent, five companies. I took Lieutenant Abbott as aide-de-camp. We marched quick time to the ferry. Then I sent Captain Tremlett up the tow path four miles with two companies, and retained three with me. I formed my detachment into a hollow square, stacked the guns, posted a guard, and let the men lie down where they were. I slept on the floor of a deserted double-roomed house which I made headquarters. I went to sleep, having a sentinel posted near me to wake me on the least alarm. I slept by intervals till four A. M., when I got the captains to get their companies under arms. I left before sunrise, and got back to camp at reveille. Reported at headquarters, and then lay down for a nap. I then thought that I ought to write, and have put off sleeping until night, when ten to one I may be sent off again on some midnight expedition. Yesterday I acted colonel, and received the dress parade. This is the first time I have ever had it. It would have looked queer at Readville to see me taking dress parade and have all the officers march up and salute me; but it comes more natural after having these captains under my command so many times. We shall have a mail carrier soon, so that we may get our letters more punctually. I am afraid my trunk is going to weigh too much according to the new orders. If it does, I shall have to send it home and get another one, a kind of camp trunk, price $8.00; then you can send me anything you wish, if it doesn't take up room, or is anything to eat. We live on hard bread and salt meat, and coffee or tea. But I don't care for anything else. I suppose I could buy pies and such things if I wanted. I drill the men now almost altogether as skirmishers.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 13-5

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, September 18, 1861

September 18, 1861.

I had the pleasantest time, yesterday, that I have had this long while. General Lander's Brigade, including the Twentieth Regiment, Massachusetts Volunteers, was on the march from Washington to Poolsville; they were to pass within about two miles of our camp, so Captain Curtis and I got permission to go off and see them. It was the first time I had left camp except for picket or other duty, since I left Camp Andrew; it seemed very much of a holiday. We met the Twentieth after about three-quarters of an hour's march. I tell you we were glad to see so many good fellows; at least a dozen of them were intimate friends; Charley Pierson, the Adjutant, Bill Bartlett, Caspar Crowninshield, John Putnam, Harry Tremlett, and lots of others. They were all looking well, dusty and sunburnt. Captain Schmidt seemed very glad to see me; he was very unchanged. After walking a mile or two with them, we returned to camp well pleased with our visit. Poolsville, where they are now encamped, is seven miles from us.

I have just made me a delicious cup of black coffee; it will keep me awake the rest of the night, I think, as it is now near one. I have been on court-martial for the last two or three days; Rufus Choate was Judge Advocate. The way we put cases through would have astonished a police court.

Captain Curtis went on to Washington, to-night, to rectify an error in the date of pay roll; he will be back some time to-morrow or next day. General McClellan is going to review General Banks' division Tuesday. It will be a great sight, if they can find a good place for it; fifteen thousand troops marching company front. Ellis has been made brigade commissary, a regular staff appointment. Sedgwick has received an appointment on some staff with the rank of major. Lieutenant Howard and Tom Robeson have been made signal officers, and are detached. Copeland has gone on to Banks' staff, and there is some talk of making Charley Horton or Steve Perkins ordnance officers of this division, so you see our roster of officers is quite reduced. If anybody is wanted for any purpose in this division, our regiment is sure to be called on to supply him; it is complimentary to us, to be sure, but it makes it rather hard for the rest. You asked me, in a letter some time ago, if I was trying to get a commission in the regular army. Not a bit of it! I shall try for one some of these days, likely, but not till I have seen some service. I should not care for anything less than a captaincy in the regular army, and it will be a good while before I can expect that. I suppose you notice by my talk that I don't think we have a short war before us; the more I think of it, the more I think it will be a long one. I saw a list of Tom Stevenson's officers, the other day. There are several very good companies, Bob Clark's, Bob Steve's and some others.

Captain Robert Williams, General Banks' Assistant Adjutant-General, has got a furlough from the regular army, and is going to take command of the cavalry regiment now raising in Massachusetts; rather singular that he, a Virginian, should be the Colonel of a regiment raised to fight his own State. He is a very fine officer, and I should think would be much liked; his present rank is that of captain.

You will hardly believe it when I tell you that the men of our regiment look better now as regards their rifles, accoutrements and dress, than they did at Camp Andrew. At dress parades and inspections, we insist on every man having his shoes and belts shining bright with blacking, also on every button and bit of brass about their firelock being polished, and, if on drawing the rammer from the barrel, there is enough rust or dirt on it to soil a white glove, the man who owns it is obliged to clean it (the rifle), immediately after parade, to the satisfaction of his officer. Their clothes are considerably worn, but the general effect is far better than ever before. We have earned the name of the “stuck up” Massachusetts Regiment, which amuses us considerably. Others think we cannot get along well with our men, as they never see them sitting around in our tents smoking and joking with us and enjoying themselves generally, as they are allowed to do in some regiments. We let them think so.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 22-4

Captain William Francis Bartlett: September 15, 1861

I have let one of my men copy this out of my journal, which I wrote after we got here Sunday night. Part of it was a letter to Ben. I am well and comfortable.

Camp Foster, September 15, 1861.

After three days' continual marching, we have arrived at the most magnificent spot I ever saw. To go back: I last wrote home from Camp Burnside, near Washington. We received orders on the 12th to move immediately across the river. We had heard firing all the day before, and every one was on the qui vive. We had tents struck, baggage packed, and knapsacks slung, and had reached the foot of the hill on which our camp was pitched, when an aide-de-camp of General Lander rode up at full speed, and asked for the Colonel. I directed him, and in a moment the word came down the line, “Column halt!” The order for crossing the river here had been countermanded, and we were ordered to start for Poolesville, up the river towards Harper's Ferry. We countermarched, and started up the main road. It was very hot but not dusty. We made about nine miles over an uneven road, and at night bivouacked under the starlit skies. The water was deep in the hollows of our blankets in the morning, and the dew-drops glistened on our noses and hair in the rising sun.

I caught no cold and never rose more refreshed. We fell in for the march about half past nine. To-day it was cooler on account of a fresh breeze from the west. I led the column at a smart step until the Colonel rode up and said that the men were complaining of having to march too fast, and asked for an easier gait. We slackened up. We marched on through a hilly country for some miles, when we struck off the main road to the left for Rockville. It now began to look more like my idea of an army on the march, now fording a shallow stream and now climbing a long, steep, and rocky hill. Being at the head of the column, I could look back as we reached the top, and see the bayonets glisten down the narrow road until the rear was lost in a cloud of dust.

We stopped two miles outside of Rockville for dinner, which consisted of hard bread and salt meat from our haversacks. The men have an idea that we live better than they do, wherever we are, but in many cases we do not fare so well. After a short rest we fell in at the beat of the drum, and struck Muddy Branch at sundown, passing through Rockville under the waving of Union flags. In talking with natives here they are strong Union, but this one and that one, their neighbors, are secession.

We bivouacked at Muddy Branch, on a steep hillside, where lying on the ground brought you to almost a perpendicular position. It was very wet before morning. The sensation is a new and not altogether unpleasant one, of opening your eyes and seeing the stars above you. Saturday morning we received orders from General Lander to take extra precautions, as the rebel cavalry had crossed the river in great numbers, and were intending to cut us off with our large baggage train and ammunition.

An advanced guard of picked men of Company I was sent forward under my command, with ten rounds of ball cartridges, rifles loaded and capped. Caspar Crowninshield, being second Captain, was given command of the rear guard, with an equal number of men. The regiment had cartridges distributed, but were not allowed to cap their pieces. We left Muddy Run at ten, with a faint hope in my mind of meeting anything like rebel cavalry, but the men were quite elated at the idea of having a brush. We had to halt several times to make the streams fordable for the wagons, and halted without adventure at Seneca Creek, six miles from Poolesville, for the noonday rest and meal.

We passed on our march within a mile of Gordon's regiment, which is in camp near the road, and saw Lieutenant Morse of the same. During our halt, Captain Abbott, Little's¹ brother, rode up, having heard of our approach. Of course we were glad to see him. All the fellows of their regiment are well and sent love.

Tom Robeson is at Washington on signal duty, telegraphing, etc. Ned Abbott rode on with us when we marched, as far as Poolesville, where we halted. The gradual rise to this place is imperceptible, until you see before you in the distance what appear to be clouds in the western horizon. They do not seem to change their shape, and you recognize them soon as mountains, the famous Blue Ridge of Virginia. But what is more surprising, you find yourself on a mountain, and looking across a valley of some sixty or seventy miles, through which the Potomac runs. Imagine yourself on the summit of Mount Washington, or higher if you please, and then have the summit stretched out into a flat tableland of fifty square miles, with nothing to obstruct the horizon, and you have a slight idea of our position and view. We were thousands of feet above the level of the sea, and still on every side it was perfectly level until your eye stretched across the surrounding valley and rested on the blue hills beyond. Towering above the others was the famous Sugar Loaf Mountain, from whose summit the signal fires tell the numbers and movements of the foe.

The scenery was appreciated even by the tired men, and exclamations of surprise would occasionally be heard from the ranks. Our bivouac here at Poolesville has surpassed all others. We are so high that very little dew falls, our blankets being only damp in the morning, and the air is so invigorating that a person is inclined to be pleased with everything. Although this was our third day on the march, and we had come farther than on any other day, the men were in better spirits and really not so tired as on the night of our first bivouac.

The river is but four miles from here, and our pickets there exchange shots daily with the rebels. To-day one of ours was killed. Sometimes the pickets will make friendly advances to each other across the river, and leaving their arms will meet half way on the ford, and chat in the most friendly manner. In one case they exchanged a Boston Journal for a Mobile paper. We have seen nothing of the Rebel cavalry, and before stacking I ordered the guns to be uncapped.

September 15, Sunday, we had looked forward to as a day of rest, literally, but at eleven we were ordered to have dinner as early as possible, as we must start again for a new camping ground two and a half miles nearer the river. The sun was broiling. I picked up a tin cup lying in the sun, without thinking, and dropped it as though it was red. I believe if my hand had been wet, it would have sizzled. We fell in at two, and passing the advanced regiment of Minnesota Volunteers, descended from our table-land towards the river, and are now in advance of everything in this direction. We have the post of honor. In the first advance into Virginia, our regiment, having the right of the brigade, leads; Company I, having the right of our regiment, also leads. The Minnesota regiment which is to support us is the same that behaved so well at Bull's Run, and was the last to leave the field, and in good order.

The Colonel considers it a great compliment, placing his regiment so well in advance. But we compare in appearance and drill certainly with any that I have seen since I left home. We reached our final camp ground about four o'clock, have got our camp laid out, our tents pitched, and guard mounted, and hope to stay here a week or two to get up again on our drill, etc., which must have lost something from our late irregularities. As soon as our brigade is full, we shall probably go on picket duty on the river, which they say is quite pleasant, having just enough danger to make it exciting. A whole company is detailed for a certain number of days, perhaps a week, when it is relieved by the next. I will write at the first opportunity, giving you some of my adventures and experience on picket.

The Colonel was down at the river to-day with General Stone, and got one of our pickets to make advances to his neighbor opposite, and draw him into conversation across the river. They kept in the back-ground, and listened to the dialogue, which of course wasn't in a whisper. The rebel said they had but two or three hundred cavalry there, and only one or two batteries. Of course their information goes for what it is worth. But it seems rather laughable, the whole thing. It is impossible for me to realize that we are so near the enemy. I shall, perhaps, when I hear a bullet whistle by my head.

I have written a good deal, considering we have been on the march for the last four days, but I do not feel tired in the least; the men are somewhat used up, it being their first march, but they have stood it very well, especially my company. I haven't had one straggler.

I must stop, not for want of matter but for brevity of candle. The air of the tent feels close and uncomfortable after living so long in the open air.

My next may be dated from the “Banks of the Potomac.”

_______________

¹ Little, here and elsewhere, is Henry L. Abbott, the accomplished officer who was killed in the Wilderness in May, 1864, as Major of his regiment. The story of his life is told in the Harvard Memorial Biographies.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 1-13

George Bancroft to Elizabeth Davis Bancroft, December 16, 1861

Monday, December 16, 1861.

MY DEAR WIFE,  . . . Keeping down my sorrow  at heart for the woes of our poor country, which under  incompetent hands is going fast to ruin, I have much  to say of my proceedings yesterday, more than I can  find time for. But here is the Outline. I breakfasted with Mr. Chase, which occupied from 8½ to l0¼. His views are good; his integrity and ability make him the  first man in the cabinet; but he cannot find money so  abundantly as to meet the extravagant and excessive  demands on the government. His constitutional views on the south go but a little beyond mine; he applies to all the states in rebellion what I think there is no doubt may be applied to those formed out of Louisiana.

I wished to see Lander,¹ and asked where he lived. Mr. Chase was so good as to offer to go with me. I found in Lander a man, if not of genius, of inspiration; brave, hardy, fearless, of immense executive ability; full of ideas, a poet and a very good one. He married about 14 months ago a person of whom he seemed very fond; and she in return, enters into his tales of battles and his zeal for desperate service. “The Lord thinks for me,” he said to me. He has written a poem which he calls “Inspiration,” in which he carries out the thought that underlies the remark I have just quoted. What he repeated of it to me I liked very much. He said he had not shown the poem to his wife till he had been married six months; but when he read or rather repeated it to her and she entered into his conception, she rose in his affection a hundred per cent. They seemed very happy: he is recovering from the bad wound he got at Edward's Ferry, and she was his companion, and nurse, and delight. I was so attracted that I remained with him till after one o'clock.

Just at three I went by appointment to the President. We discussed when we had met before: he remembered seeing me at Springfield, Illinois, but had forgotten our interview at Brady's. He wanted to know if I had seen Gen. McClellan. I said no. “I will take off my slippers,” said he, “and draw on my boots and take you over.”  I liked the novelty of the thing. He went through the processes of getting ready, and we walked to McClellan's. The President rang, and began asking the servant if he could see McClellan, and then checked that form of speech, and sent in word, who were waiting to see him. The general came in to us very soon, and we sat talking on indifferent things, the army, the prospect in Tennessee, the railroad recommended by the President from Kentucky south. Of all silent, uncommunicative, reserved men, whom I ever met, the general stands among the first. He is one, who if he thinks deeply keeps his thoughts to himself. However with what I knew before, I was able to extract something; and I shall probably see him again. The President is turning in his thoughts the question of his duty in the event of a slave insurrection; he thinks slavery has received a mortal wound, that the harpoon has struck the whale to the heart. This I am far from being able to see.

I invited myself to dine with the Hoopers. We had Sumner, and two others. In the evening young Lowell² came in, of whom by the way, I spoke at large to McClellan, giving him the praises that are his due. Sumner at once vindicates and censures the administration. After this I called on Gen. Heintzelman, one of the bravest and best soldiers in the army. He was in the Bull's Run fight. I wound up the evening with a long talk with the famous Griffin, of Griffin's batteries, who, if not overvalued by his superior Barry, would have saved the battle of Bull's Run. . . .

__________

¹ Gen. F. W. Lander, author of Rhode Island to the South and other war poems.

² Charles Russell Lowell

SOURCE: M. A. DeWolfe Howe, The Life and Letters of George Bancroft, Volume 2, p. 145-7

Brigadier General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, March 18, 1862

CAMP NEAR ALEXANDRIA, March 18, 1862.

I note all you write about McClellan. I fear it is all true, and that the most desperate efforts have been made and are still being made to take away his command and destroy him. Franklin told me that McClellan said to him, as they followed Lander's corpse, that he almost wished he was in the coffin instead of Lander. It is reported that they were about to introduce into the House of Representatives a vote of want of confidence in him, but were restrained by fearing it would not pass. It is said the President remains his friend.

McClellan is not the man to make himself popular with the masses. His manners are reserved and retiring. He was not popular either in Chicago or Cincinnati, when at the head of large railroad interests. He has never studied or practiced the art of pleasing, and indeed has not paid that attention to it which every man whose position is dependent on popular favor must pay, if he expects to retain his position. Now, you know long before the tide turned, I told you of ill-advised acts on his part, showing a disposition to gratify personal feelings, at the expense of his own interests. I have no doubt now that the enmity of Heintzelman, Sumner, McDowell and Keyes can all be traced to this very cause — his failure to conciliate them, and the injustice they consider his favoritism to others has been to them. So long as he had full swing, they were silent, but so soon as others had shaken the pedestal he stood on, they join in to lend their hands.

Don't you remember as early as last September, telling us how indignant Charles King was at the treatment of General Scott by McClellan, and that the General had said he would have arrested him for disrespect if he had dared to? In the selection of his staff he has not shown the judgment he might have done. There are too many men on it that are not worthy to be around a man with McClellan's reputation. Again, you know my opinion of his treatment of the Ball's Bluff affair, through personal regard for Stone. All these little things have combined, with his political foes, to shake his position. I think, however, it is pretty well settled that Old Abe has determined he will not cut his head off till he has had a chance, and as I wrote you before, all will depend now on the hazard of a die. Any disaster, never mind from what cause, will ruin him, and any success will reinstate him in public favor.

It is very hard to know what is going to be done, or what the enemy will do. My opinion is that they are concentrating all their available forces around Richmond, and that they will make there a determined and desperate resistance. Of course, this defense will be made at first in advance, as far as they deem it prudent to go, or as they can readily retire from, as for instance, the Rappahannock on the north, Fredericksburg and the Potomac on the east, Yorktown and Norfolk on the southeast. Where McClellan will attack them is not known, but before many days are over it will be settled, and we will have a fight either at Fredericksburg, Yorktown or Norfolk. For my part, the sooner we meet them the better. The thing has to be done, and there is nothing gained by delay. The morale is on our side; our recent victories, their retreat from Manassas, all combine to inspirit us and demoralize them; and if our men only behave as we hope and believe they will, I think before long we shall have Richmond.

I rode over this morning and saw Willie.¹ I found on my arrival that there was in camp a party of ladies and gentlemen, consisting of Mr. Charles King, of New York, and his daughter, Mrs. Captain Ricketts, and her sister, who is married to a son of Charles King, a captain in the Twelfth (Willie's) Regiment. These ladies had come out to see Captain King, accompanied by Colonel Van Rensselaer, who you remember married a niece of Charles King. They had prepared a lunch, and all the officers were partaking of it, and having, as is usual, a merry time. Soon after I rode up, Miss King recognized Kuhn, who was with me, and sent Captain Wister,² of the regiment after him, and in a few minutes Colonel Van Rensselaer came up to me, and, after the usual salutations, politely asked me to permit him to present me to the party. Of course I had to say yes, and went up with him and joined the party. Mrs. Ricketts, you know, was a Miss Lawrence. I had known her mother and family all my life. She is now a great heroine. After doing the civil to the party I retired.

__________

¹ William Sergeant, brother of Mrs. Meade.

² Francis Wister, captain 12th U. S. Infantry.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 1, p. 253-4

Flood in the Potomac

FREDERICK, Md., Jan 23. – Officers from Hancock yesterday report the Potomac as having risen nearly twenty five feet within the past few days.  There is no possibility of crossing at present.

Jackson is supposed to be still at Romney.

Lander has fallen back to the mouth of Patterson creek near Cumberland.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, February 1, 1862, p. 4

PRESIDENT'S GENERAL WAR ORDER, No. 2

EXECUTIVE MANSION,

Washington, March 8, 1862.

Ordered, 1. That the major-general commanding the Army of the Potomac proceed forthwith to organize that part of the said army destined to enter upon active operations (including the reserve, but excluding the troops to be left in the fortifications about Washington) into four army corps, to be commanded according to seniority of rank, as follows:

First Corps to consist of four divisions, and to be commanded by Maj. Gen. I. McDowell.

Second Corps to consist of three divisions, and to be commanded by Brig. Gen. E. V. Sumner.

Third Corps to consist of three divisions, and to be commanded by Brig. Gen. S. P. Heintzelman.

Fourth Corps to consist of three divisions, and to be commanded by Brig. Gen. E. D. Keyes.

2. That the divisions now commanded by the officers above assigned to the commands of army corps shall be embraced in and form part of their respective corps.

3. The forces left for the defense of Washington will be placed in command of Brig. Gen. James S. Wadsworth, who shall also be military governor of the District of Columbia.

4. That this order be executed with such promptness and dispatch as not to delay the commencement of the operations already directed to be undertaken by the Army of the Potomac.

5. A fifth army corps, to be commanded by Maj. Gen. N. P. Banks, will be formed from his own and General Shields' (late General Lander's) divisions.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series 1, vol. 5, p. 18

Columbus being Evacuated

WASHINGTON, March 2. – A dispatch was received to-day from Com. Foot saying that Lieut. Phelps, sent with a flag of truce to Columbus, has returned, and reports Columbus being evacuated.  He saw the rebels burning their winter quarters and removing heavy guns on the bluffs but leaving those in the water batteries.  The indications were that the town of Columbus together with the military stores, &c. had been burned.

Gen. Shields succeeds Gen. Lander in his command.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 8, 1862, p. 3

Washington News

WASHINGTON, March 2. – It is now said to be clearly understood between the allied powers that a monarchy will be the result of the present invasion of Mexico.  Notwithstanding assurances given the United States that they did not have any political object there, it is believed they will say the monarchy will be extended by the free will of the Mexican people, just as the empire was established in France.

The War Department refuses to transmit any letters to Southern States.

Reports received from all the military departments the past week represent the condition of troops as very good and having a patriotic desire for action.

Major General Hitchcock declines his appointment on the ground of ill health not permitting him to perform his duties.

Gen. Lander died to-day at Pawpaw Western Virginia, from dysentery, exposure and wounds received at Edwards Ferry.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 8, 1862, p. 3

Death Of Gen. Lander

The brave and chivalric Gen. Lander is no more.  Last evening the melancholy tidings reached us that he died during the afternoon at Paw Paw, in Western Virginia.  This intelligence will fall mournfully upon the country in its hour general rejoicing.  The nation could illy spare so good a man and so daring a soldier at this juncture.

Frederick W. Lander was born in Massachusetts, and was by profession an engineer.  In 1848-9 he surveyed the great wagon road to California, and soon after his return was brought prominently before the public as the second of Hon. John F. Potter, when he was challenged by that pink of Virginian chivalry, Roger A. Pryor.  By his judicious management of that case he enabled Mr. Potter to vindicate the representatives of the North against the braggarts of the South.  When Pryor declined to fight Potter with Bowie knives, Lander politely offered to espouse the case of his principal, and give the Virginian the choice of any weapon he please, but Pryor discreetly declined.  That affair put a stop to the insolence of the chivalry in the United States House of Representatives for some time, and taught them to mend their plantation manners.

When the Southern rebellion broke out, General, then Col. Lander, threw himself into the struggle in behalf of the Union, and was detailed to Western Virginia, under Gen. McClellan. – There he participated with Col. Kelley in the attack upon Philippi on the 3d of June, and distinguished himself throughout that brilliant campaign, which culminated in the victories of Rich Mountain, Laurel Hill, and Carrick’s Ford.  For his part in this campaign the President made him a Brigadier in July last.

Gen. Lander received his death-wound at Edward’s Ferry, where so many of his comrades from Massachusetts also met their fate.  The day after the butchery of Col. Baker, Lander was ordered to the scene of action, and while conducting a reconnoisance, received a painful wound in his leg.  From the debilitating effects of that wound, aggravated, no doubt, by his herculean efforts to free his department of the Rebels.

It will be remembered that this faithful officer conscious that he needed repose, after his late brilliant victory, asked to be relieved from duty; but the exigencies of the service were such that he did not press his request.  True to his trust, he remained at his post to the last, and died, like a soldier, with his harness on his back.  It is probable that he was not himself aware of his extreme danger, for we learn that it was not till five o’clock yesterday afternoon that his wife was summoned to his side.  Ere a special train could be prepared for her, the news of his decease was received.

Gen. Lander was a frank, bold, open-hearted man, of noble and generous nature, and commanding presence.  He looked the soldier, every inch of him, and scorned to ask his men to go where he himself would not cheerfully lead the way.  They knew this, and loved him as a brother.  Gen. Shields succeeds to his command. – {Tribune.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 8, 1862, p. 2

Anecdote of Gen. Lander

Gen. Lander is regarded as rather overbearing, strict in discipline, and severe to the last routine of military rule; but he is known to be just and truthful and is personally as brave as Julius Caesar.  He refuses serenades, and will not come out when they are tendered; yet he never visits an outpost or picket-guard, which his constant habit, without the men cheering him.  It shows that the bold soldier boys appreciate the fact that the stern, emphatic and rough General is loved, and will be followed to the last.  He is supposed to be quite a heathen.  One day a staff officer caught him with a Bible in his hand, and said:

“General, do you ever search the Scriptures?”

Gen. Lander replied, “My mother gave me a Bible which I have always carried with me. – Once in the Rocky Mountains I had only fifteen pounds of flour.  We used to collect grasshoppers at 4 o’clock in the day, to catch trout for supper at night.  It was during the Mormon War, and my men desired to turn back.  I was then searching for a route for the wagon road. ‘I will turn back if the Bible says so,’ said I, ‘and we will take it as an inspiration.’  I opened the book at the following passage:

“Go on, and search the mountain, and the gates of the city shall not be shut against you.”

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 8, 1862, p. 2

Mistakes Of Our Generals

We feel bound to express our regret at the injudicious and extraordinary zeal of our commanders.  General Lander, for instance, has recently marched his brigade forty miles, when the roads were not in a condition to allow any military movement.  It is well known that the roads in Virginia are wholly impassable, and that our main army is shut in by this cause near the Capital.  General Lander’s indiscretion ought to be rebuked.  Cannot some charges be got up against him?  Don’t he drink sometimes?  He must surely be intoxicated to drive the rebels into the snow at this inclement season.

Then there is Buell, too.  He seems to be insubordinate – moving direct upon Bowling Green with eighty thousand men, through snow and rain and mud; he does not stop to discipline his troops all winter, nor wait for more artillery.  Something will happen to him one of these days, unless he takes care; and then there will be trouble.  Buell should be placed under arrest at once, especially as we hear that he swears sometimes – particularly at needless, injurious and expensive delays.

Grant is another of these reckless Generals.  He too seems infected with the same disease of preternatural activity.  Not only does he move in the mud, regardless of cleanliness and propriety, but assails directly a strong fortified position and carries it.  There is no knowing where this restless zeal will carry him.

It is understood, however, that charges are to be presented against him for allowing Floyd to escape.  There is some hope, therefore that he too may be brought under, and things may move on more judiciously again.  As they are going now, there is great reason to fear that the war may be ended before our troops are fully disciplined to meet the enemy, and before the roads will permit them to move. –{N. Y. Evening Post.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 1, 1862, p. 3

The Social and Moral Condition of Washington

A Washington correspondent of the New York World answers the questions, “Have the Northern army and Northern supremacy benefited or injured Washington?  Have they brought to the Southern border the best or the worst of humanites?” as follows:

Something of the best certainly.  I have before written of the intellectual and social innovations storming Washington under convoy of a Republican dynasty and patriot army of occupation.  Of the misty departure, the gradual lessening and withdrawal from a thousand rented houses, of dresses gorgeous with gold and scarlet emblazonings, diamonds glistening on full imperious bosoms, wreaths, rioting, rampageous bluster, and other efflorescence of the Southern “Master-race.”  Of the substitution, in their stead, of modest and graceful fashions, neutral tints, figures, whose close bodiced whiteness must be guessed at from the stainless faces and golden hair above them the quiet tone of a higher breeding, the courtesies and charities and ease of the most civilized modern life.

Now are the metal revolutions less noteworthy.  “The old order changeth, yielding place to new,” and by favor of the latter our poets, scholars, and thinkers are having their time of political rule and remuneration.  It seems odd to find within the Ionic porches of the Government money factory such a gathering of bookmen, old and young, as I can name; to see the veteran Pierpont, and “Peter Schlemil,” and O’Connor – the talented Boston essayist and tale writer – and Piatt, who with Howells (now consul at Venice,) published the most promising volume of poems yet given us from the West – and Chilton, and Dr. Elder, et alii sim – all hopefully engaged in signing, cutting, or recording government notes and bonds, preparing tax schedules or in some other way laboring from 9 till 4 daily, Sundays excepted, in the joint behalf of Mercury and the republic.  Stepping across the yard, and entering the library of the State Department, one is assisted in his examination of parchment treaties and Puffendorff by J. C. Derby, so long in the front rank of New York publishers, now Mr. Seward’s librarian, and as ever, though not a soldier, bearded like the pard.  Already, on Pennsylvania Avenue, Fred. Cozzens’ store, to which Sparrow-grass has transported his catawbas and cabanas and genial self, is the lounging place of many of the afore-named gentry.  At the White house, of a morning, you will perhaps meet N. P. Willis in the reception room; but in Mr. Nicolay’s up-stair sanctum are sure to find John Hay, whose Atlantic papers are written with such purity of style and feeling, at his desk as under secretary to the President.  Then, among women writers, there is Mr. Prentice’s favorite contributor, nee Sallie M. Bryan, now wife of the aforesaid Piatt; and Mrs. Donn Piatt, otherwise “Bell Smith Abroad;” Mrs. Devereux Umstead and Mrs. Kirkland; and as of their male compeers, plenty of others whom I do not just now remember.  And of artists, there are Leutze, hard at work upon his twenty thousand dollar picture; Miss Lander, the sculptor, sister to Gen. Fred., who captured so many Colonels last Friday; and the Vermont sculptor, Larkin Meade, whose “Green Mountain boy” is now exhibiting at Philip & Solomon’s.  And the hall of the Smithsonian has yielded surprised echoes this winter to ringing utterances of the representative Northerns – Emerson, Taylor, Curtis, Holland, and Greeley.  Everywhere, intermingled with the varying phases of success, misfortune, valor and contrivance evolved by the present life struggle, the Northern mind and heart have exercised pervading influence at the Capital.

But this has nothing to do with the demoralization of Washington, and sounds curiously, I suppose, as a prelude to statements under such a caption.  The caption itself is paradoxical. – Washington life has so long been a synonym for dissipation, extravagance, finesse and fraud, that to talk of demoralizing it is presenting a converse to the proverb about gilding refined gold and painting the lily – it is to speak of corrupting an aged egg or making thick the water of the Ohio river.  Yet the truth is as I write it.  Even Washington has been lowered from its average standard of morals by a year of military occupation.  And it is high time that some attempt at reform should be made by those in power – from the Provost Marshal to the Municipal Police.

Bear in mind that the present condition of the city is in no wise chargeable to the influences mentioned above.  It has come in spite of them; as not so bad as it would be without them.  It is perhaps to a certain extent inseperable from an Army in Waiting.  Perhaps there is not so much vice here as has rioted in Vienna, Paris, Lisbon, Berlin or Brussels during the historic periods of their military occupation.  But these are larger cities.  Here, where 6,000 buildings and eight times as many resident people constitute the town, the amount of vice and crime brought with and bred among an army of one hundred and fifty thousand men is frightfully concentrated and apparent.  Licentiousness, debauchery, and gambling have raged like the typhoid and contagious fevers of the camps. – Worse, the latter flourish inversely with good weather, and the former seem to increase continuously, maintain a rising average through rain, hail, sleet, and sunshine.  I think the atmosphere is less tainted with the odor of fraudulent contracting, peculation and bribery than it was in A. D. 1861; but the pestilent fogs of vice are gathering in such noisome thickness as to indicate it well for the spiritual safety of our officers that active operations are close at hand.  With the motion of actual warfare comes a cleansing moral process, none but stagnant waters are spread with scum and slime.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 1, 1862, p. 3