Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: Saturday, August 6, 1864

A very pleasant ride down the James. Rounded Lighthouse Point. Soon passed Harrison's Landing, then Fort Powhatan and Wilcox's Landing. Here danger from reb guns ceased. The old Jamestown site on left bank, a few chimneys still standing. Newport near where the Merrimac fight came off, Cumberland and Congress sunk. Sewall's Point across, eight miles down Fortress Monroe. Went ashore. Everything carried on in the finest style. Splendid fort, having an armament of over 200 guns and “The Union” monster gun which fired a shot from Fort Monroe to Sewall's Point, 8 miles. Ripraps still progressing. A splendid fort built in center of stream on the shoals, Gov't prisoners at work on it. Through Hampton Roads into the Chesapeake and Atlantic. Passing Old Point Comfort, the bay is very wide. Saw an American and English frigate and a French gunboat. An English cutter manned by 8 or 10 fellows in white came ashore. Reached Point Lookout about sundown, the ironclad Roanoke lying off the point. Up the river, 12 miles, and anchored for the night. A most pleasant trip. Stormed enough to roughen the bay a little. Good fare upon the boat. Pass hundreds of boats, most of them making their way to City Point, I suppose. Phosphorus.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 126-7

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.

Major-General John A. Dix to A. R. Admiral Samuel P. Lee, July 7, 1863

Confidential.

Head-quarters, Department of Virginia, Seventh Army Corps,

White House, Va., July 7,1863.

A. R. Admiral S. P. Lee,

Commanding North Atlantic Blockading Squadron:

Admiral, — I have just received your confidential letter of the 6th instant. I have been under orders for several days to send to Washington all my force, except such as is absolutely necessary to defend Yorktown, Fort Monroe, and the new line of intrenchments near Norfolk. I have sent off three regiments to-day, and am only waiting for transports to send more. General Getty returned this morning. He could not destroy the Fredericksburg Railroad bridge over the South Anna, but he destroyed some six miles of the track between the bridge and Richmond, and the depot at Ashland. General Lee's communications with Richmond are cut off by the two railroads running north from that city, so that the valley of the Shenandoah can only be reached by way of Dansville, Lynchburg, and Charlottesville.

Unless I have other orders I shall move from this place to-morrow morning with my whole force. It pains me to do so, but I cannot remain long, if authorized, without re-enforcements, as the term of seventeen of my regiments is about expiring — several of them as early as next week. I mentioned in an unofficial letter last week that I wished to see you. I intended to propose to you a joint attack on Fort Powhattan, but it is now too late, as I am to be reduced so low in my numbers as to be able merely to hold a few prominent points.

If I evacuate this position to-morrow your gun-boats will be disposable for any purpose you may have in view, as I shall withdraw the troops from West Point also.

I am, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

John A. Dix, Major-general

SOURCE: Morgan Dix, Memoirs of John Adams Dix, Volume 2, p. 67-8

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

June 13, 1864

Last night, at dark, the whole army was in motion for "Charles City" on the James River (there is no "city" there, but I believe a house and a barn). . . . This morning we were on our way by 5.30 and, making a cut across the woods, we soon came on Barlow's division of the 2d Corps going rapidly toward the river, close to which we found Hancock, sitting on the grass and waiting for his Corps. At this point the Chickahominy is nothing of a stream, but, as it is bordered by considerable flats, it suddenly widens, during heavy floods, to perhaps half a mile, the water being just deep enough to stop waggons. This was a great trouble McClellan had: we have met with no such obstacle. This river is characteristic; a good drawing of this very scene at Long's Bridge might pass as the incarnation of malaria and swamp fever. Fancy a wide ditch, partly choked with rotten logs, and full of brown, tepid, sickly-looking water, whose slow current would scarcely carry a straw along. From the banks of dark mould rises a black and luxuriant vegetation: cypresses of immense size, willow oaks, and swamp magnolias, remind you that you are within the limits of a sub-tropical climate, and so does the unhealthy and peculiar smell of decaying leaves and stagnant water. A great contrast to this landscape, so suggestive of silence and loneliness, was the rumbling and clatter of Barlow's batteries, as they passed over the resounding pontoon bridge. We clattered over too, as soon as the last of the regiments had passed (which was about 10.30), designing to follow in rear of this division.  . . . We kept on, on the flank of the column, admiring its excellent marching, a result partly due to the good spirits of the men, partly to the terror in which stragglers stand of Barlow. His provost guard is a study. They follow the column, with their bayonets fixed, and drive up the loiterers, with small ceremony. Of course their tempers do not improve with heat and hard marching. There was one thin, hard-featured fellow who was a perfect scourge. “Blank you! — you—“ (here insert any profane and extremely abusive expression, varied to suit the peculiar case) “get up, will you? By blank, I'll kill you if you don't go on, double-quick!” And he looked so much like carrying out his threat that the hitherto utterly prostrate party would skip like the young lamb. Occasionally you would see a fellow awaiting the charge with an air of calm superiority, and, when the guard approached, pull out the aegis of a “surgeon's pass.” The column marched so fast that I was sent forward to tell General Barlow to go more gently. I found that eccentric officer divested of his coat and seated in a cherry tree. “By Jove!” said a voice from the branches, “I knew I should not be here long before Meade's Staff would be up. How do you do, Theodore, won't you come up and take a few cherries?” However, I could not stay, and so kept on till we came, somewhat suddenly, on well-cultivated fields with good crops of wheat, oats, and clover. I was speculating on the reason of this when somebody said we were within a mile of James River! and just after, General Meade ordered me to ride down and see what sort of a position there was and how the land lay.

It was about four o'clock in the afternoon that I caught the first sight of the water, as I cantered round the corner of a little grove. To appreciate such a sight you must pass five weeks in an almost unbroken wilderness, with no sights but weary, dusty troops, endless waggon-trains, convoys of poor wounded men, and hot, uncomfortable camps. Here was a noble river, a mile wide, with high green banks, studded with large plantation houses. In the distance, opposite, was Fort Powhatan, below which lay two steamers; and, what seemed strangest of all, not a Rebel soldier to be seen anywhere!  . . . There was a signal-man waving away with his flag to attract the attention of the steamers, to notify all concerned that the head of the Army of the Potomac had struck the James. We went to a field by the Tyler house for our camp — the birthplace of John Tyler, he of the big nose and small political principles — once Vice President, with Tippy-canoe and Tyler too. Nobody was there, save a lot of nigs, that were too funny; for there suddenly appeared among them one of our black servants, who had left that very place in McClellan's time. Such a “Lord a-a massy! is dat a-ar you? Wha-ar d'ge come from?” as never was heard, and great rejoicings over the distinguished traveller! What was more to the purpose, I got some green peas, a great coup; likewise milk, though “them a-ar infants” (meaning infantry) got the most of it.  . . . A pontoon bridge, 2000 feet long, was made in ten hours, and over this passed a train of waggons and artillery thirty-five miles long; more than half the infantry in the army and 3500 beef cattle; besides 4000 cavalry; all of which was chiefly accomplished within the space of forty-eight hours!¹ In civil life, if a bridge of this length were to be built over a river with a swift current and having a maximum depth of eighty-five feet, they would allow two or three months for the making of plans and collecting of materials. Then not less than a year to build it. This was a busy night on the river, messages going to City Point and Fort Monroe, and ferryboats and gunboats coming up as fast as possible to the neighborhood of Charles City. . . .

_______________

¹ As before stated, these letters were written after the events described.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 156