Marched at seven
o'clock A. M. Arrived at Adamstown by eleven o'clock A. M. General Banks was at
Harper's Ferry already. Troops were passing by railroad, en route for Harper's
Ferry, all the time. Our battery went in park, for the rest of the day, close
to the railroad. General McClellan passed through in a special train. Rain all
night.
SOURCE: Theodore
Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery,
p. 33
Rienzi. We were
aroused this morning with the same story of march and ordered to cook three
days' rations and be ready to march at 1 P. M., but did not go and all quieted
down again. The 3rd Section went out in the afternoon and stationed itself at
bastion No. 5 at 9 P. M. Dispatches were brought around to the effect that McClellan
had captured the rebel army of Virginia including General Lee. Nothing could
induce us to restrain our joy but the fear of its being false.
SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd
Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 5-6
We have remained
bivouaced all day, and there is talk of our moving our camp to this place
to-morrow. This will advance us another three miles in the direction of
Richmond. On the 8th of August we arrived in Washington two months ago
yesterday. We are now eight miles nearer Richmond than then. At this rate when
shall we reach that famous city? If we do not go faster, I fear Mr. President
Lincoln will never dine there at the head of his armies.
But these delays are
doubtless necessary on the start. War is new to us. Our armies had to be
organized and educated to war. Munitions had to be procured, and as most of
those belonging to the nation had been appropriated by the South, much of them
had to be manufactured. Our navy had to be called home from the four quarters
of the world, and innumerable other preparations had to be made, of which we
uninitiated are wholly ignorant. Gen. McClellan seems to be active, and we
doubt not that under the counsels of the veteran General Scott, matters will be
pushed forward as rapidly as circumstances will permit. True, many of us think
that Gen. McClellan's "Stand by me and I'll stand by you" speech was
not in refined taste—in about as good taste as Pope's proclamation—but as we do
not expect or desire exhibitions of delicate taste on the battle-field with an
unscrupulous enemy, we overlook the departure from it in our General, and accord
to him full confidence, as to both his will and ability to lead us to victory.
We are at present
within half a mile of the splendid mansion of the late Commodore Thos. Ap'
Catesby Jones. I visited that and his splendid grounds, found them deserted by
the whites; a few of the old and almost helpless negroes being left on the
place. The soldiers had entered, and made some havoc amongst books and papers.
The fine furniture stood in every room in the house, and the walls were covered
by the finest paintings, including the family pictures. But the strictest
orders, denouncing severe punishment to depredators, were posted about the
house, and a strong guard placed to enforce them. I picked up a few articles of
little value, except as relics from the home of this once happy and popular
family, now in rebellion against the Government to which they were indebted for
the favors and protection to which they owed their prosperity. I was strongly
inclined to take down the family pictures, and to remove them to where they
could be taken care of till happier times befall us, that they might then be
returned to the family, by whom they must be held in high estimation, but I
feared that the motive would be misconstrued, and that it would lead to
trouble.
SOURCE: Alfred L.
Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of
Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B.
McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day
January, 1863, p. 40-1
Sent off ambulances
to-day to commence bringing forward the sick of my regiment, and whilst they
were gone, after having put my hospital in good order for their reception, I
stepped over again to Commodore Jones' house to see how the guards stationed
there had succeeded in carrying out their orders. Till I entered the house, I
thought I had seen evidences of extreme vandalism, but the wanton destruction
here beggars everything I have before witnessed. Furniture broken; feather beds
opened, and their contents emptied over house and yard; even those beautiful
family pictures were ground to atoms and thrown to the winds. But I need not
describe here, for the impression is deeply stamped in memory, more durable and
more accurate than words and letters can ever make. Everything destructable was
destroyed.*
In handling over the
papers I picked up the Commodore's "Journal of a cruise in the U. S. ship
Relief-bearing the broad pennant of Commodore Jones-Thos. A. Downer, Esq.,
Commander," which I have preserved, and also a letter from a son of
Commodore Tatnall (late of the rebel Merrimac) to Commodore Jones, written from
the Meditterranean, asking to be relieved from duty there, and to be permitted
to return to America.†
As it will be a
matter of interest to me, in future, to study my predictions as to the course
and conduct of this war-to rejoice and be vain over those which prove correct,
and to laugh at or be ashamed of those which prove false, I shall continue to
record them as I have begun; and here I enter one in which I hope to take
interest a long time hence. As I have constantly predicted, we have had no
fight here nor shall we have; and I now very much doubt whether we shall have a
fight even at Manassas, and for this reason: "After all the feints of the
enemy here to draw Gen. Banks from Harper's Ferry had failed, they, seeing that
we have got foot-hold in North Carolina, will fall back on their fortifications
at Centerville and Manassas, and then presenting a bold front with a small
body, will cover the withdrawal of the larger part of their force, which they
will distribute in Kentucky, Missouri, Tennessee and Western Virginia, and I
very much doubt whether they will retain enough at Manassas to make a
respectable fight. Kentucky and Tennessee are to become the theatre of war; and
if I am not greatly mistaken, Kentucky will have trying times between this and
the first of January. I hope that Gen. McClellan is taking the same view of
things, and is preparing to meet it." What I have here marked as a
quotation is a copied from a letter this day written to a friend on the
prospects of the war.
_______________
* It is worthy of
remark here, that thus whilst this wanton destruction was going on, a half a
mile away, everything on the place of Mr. Johnson, (a loyalist, whose house and
garden were in the very midst of the encampments,) though unguarded was
unmolested; every article he had to dispose of was bought and paid for, at high
prices, by the soldiers. Even thus early could we read the soldier's aversion
to guarding, or having guarded the property of rebels.
† This letter I
handed to a lady connection of the Tatnall family, who was with me at the time,
and she found means of restoring it to them.
SOURCE: Alfred L.
Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of
Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B.
McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day
January, 1863, p. 42-3
It seems to me that
the destinies of this admirable people are in strange hands. Mr. Lincoln,
honest man of nature, perhaps an empiric, doctoring with innocent juices from
herbs; but some others around him seem to be quacks of the first order. I wish
I may be mistaken.
The press, the thus
called good one, is vacillating. Best of all, and almost not vacillating, is
the New York Evening Post. I do not speak of principles; but the papers
vacillate, speaking of the measures and the slowness of the administration.
The President's
message; plenty of good, honest intentions; simple, unaffected wording, but a
confession that by the attack on Sumpter, and the uprising of Virginia, the
administration was, so to speak, caught napping. Further, up to that day the
administration did not take any, the slightest, measure of any kind for any
emergency; in a word, that it expected no attacks, no war, saw no fire, and did
not prepare to meet and quench one.
It were, perhaps,
better for Lincoln if he could muster courage and act by himself according to
his nature, rather than follow so many, or even any single adviser. Less and
less I understand Mr. Lincoln, but as his private secretary assures me that
Lincoln has great judgment and great energy, I suggested to the secretary to
say to Lincoln he should be more himself.
Being tete-a-tete
with McDowell, I saw him do things of details which in any, even half-way
organized army, belong to the speciality of a chief of the staff. I, of course,
wondered at it. McDowell, who commands what in Europe would be called a large
corps, told me that General Scott allowed him not to form a complete staff,
such a one as he, McDowell, wished.
And all this, so to
speak, on the eve of a battle, when the army faces the enemy. It seems that
genuine staff duties are something altogether unknown to the military senility
of the army. McDowell received this corps in the most chaotic state. Almost
with his own hands he organized, or rather put together, the artillery.
Brigades are scarcely formed; the commanders of brigades do not know their
commands, and the soldiers do not know their generals—and still they consider
Scott to be a great general!
The Congress,
well-intentioned, but entangled in formulas, slowly feels its way. The Congress
is composed of better elements than is the administration, and it is ludicrous to
see how the administration takes airs of hauteur with the Congress. This
Congress is in an abnormal condition for the task of directing a revolution; a
formula can be thrown in its face almost at every bold step. The administration
is virtually irresponsible, more so than the government of any constitutional
nation whatever. What great things this administration could carry out!
Congress will consecrate, legalize, sanction everything. Perhaps no harm would
have resulted if the Senate and the House had contained some new, fresher
elements directly from the boiling, popular cauldron. Such men would take a
position at once. Many of the leaders in both Houses were accustomed for many
years to make only opposition. But a long opposition influences and disorganizes
the judgment, forms not those genuine statesmen able to grasp great events. For
such emergencies as are now here, terrible energy is needed, and only a very
perfect mind resists the enervating influence of a protracted opposition.
Suggested to Mr. Seward
that the best diplomacy was to take possession of Virginia. Doing this, we will
find all the cabinets smooth and friendly.
I seldom saw a man
with greater facility of labor than Seward. When once he is at work, it runs
torrent-like from
his pen. His mind is elastic. His principal forte is argument on any given
case. But the question is how far he masters the variegated information so
necessary in a statesman, and the more now, when the country earnestly has such
dangerous questions with European cabinets. He is still cheerful, hopeful, and
prophesies a speedy end.
Seward has no
Know-Nothingism about him. He is easy, and may have many genuine generous
traits in his character, were they not compressed by the habits of the, not
lofty, politician. At present, Seward is a moral dictator; he has Lincoln in
his hand, and is all in all. Very likely he flatters him and imposes upon his
simple mind by his over-bold, dogmatic, but not over-correct and logical,
generalizations. Seward's finger is in all the other departments, but above all
in the army.
The opposition made
to Seward is not courageous, not open, not dignified. Such an opposition
betrays the weakness of the opposers, and does not inspire respect. It is
darkly surreptitious. These opponents call Seward hard names, but do this in a
corner, although most of them have their parliamentary chair wherefrom they can
speak. If he is bad and mischievous, then unite your forces and overthrow him;
if he is not bad, or if you are not strong enough against him, do not cover
yourself with ridicule, making a show of impotent malice. When the Senate
confirmed him, every one throughout the land knew his vacillating policy; knew
him to be for compromise, for concessions; knew that he disbelieved in the
terrible earnestness of the struggle, and always prophesied its very speedy
end. The Senate confirmed Seward with open eyes. Perhaps at the start his
imagination and his patriotism made him doubt and disbelieve in the enormity of
treason he could not realize that the traitors would go to the bitter end.
Seemingly, Seward still hopes that one day or another they may return as
forlorn sheep. Under the like impressions, he always believed, and perhaps
still believes, he shall be able to patch up the quarrel, and be the savior of the
Union. Very probably his imagination, his ardent wishes, carry him away, and
confuse that clear insight into events which alone constitutes the statesman.
Suggested to Sumner
to demand the reduction of the tariff on certain merchandises, on the plea of fraternity
of the working American people with their brethren the operatives all over
Europe; by it principally I wished to alleviate the condition of French
industry, as I have full confidence in Louis Napoleon, and in the
unsophisticated judgment of the genuine French people. The suggestion did not
take with the Senate.
When the July
telegraph brought the news of the victory at Romney (Western Virginia), it was
about midnight. Mr. Seward warmly congratulated the President that "the
secession was over." What a far-reaching policy!
When the struggle
will be over, England, at least her Tories, aristocrats, and politicians, will
find themselves baffled in their ardent wishes for the breaking of the Union.
The free States will look tidy and nice, as in the past. But more than one
generation will pass before ceases to bleed the wound inflicted by the lies,
the taunts, the vituperations, poured in England upon this noble, generous, and
high-minded people; upon the sacred cause defended by the freemen.
These freemen of
America, up to the present time, incarnate the loftiest principle in the
successive, progressive, and historical development of man. Nations,
communities, societies, institutions, stand and fall with that principle,
whatever it be, whereof they are the incarnation; so teaches us history. Woe to
these freemen if they will recede from the principle; if they abandon human
rights; if they do not crush human bondage, this sum of all infamies. Certainly
the question paramount to all is, to save and preserve pure self-government in
principle and in its direct application. But although the question of slavery
seems to be incidental and subordinate to the former, virtually the question of
slavery is twin to the former. Slavery serves as a basis, as a nurse, for the
most infamous and abject aristocracy or oligarchy that was ever built up in
history, and any, even the best, the mildest, and the most honest oligarchy or
aristocracy kills and destroys man and self-government.
From the purely
administrative point of view, the principle whose incarnation is the American
people, the principle begins to be perverted. The embodiment of self-government
fills dungeons, suppresses personal liberty, opens letters, and in the reckless
saturnalias of despotism it rivals many from among the European despots.
Europe, which does not see well the causes, shudders at this delirium tremens
of despotism in America.
Certainly, treason
being in ebullition, the holders of power could not stand by and look. But
instead of an energetic action, instead of exercising in full the existing
laws, they hesitated, and treason, emboldened, grew over their heads.
The law inflicted
the severest capital punishment on the chiefs of the revolt in Baltimore, but
all went off unharmed. The administration one day willingly allows the law to
slide from its lap, and the next moment grasps at an unnecessary arbitrary
power. Had the traitors of Baltimore been tried by courtmartial, as the law
allowed, and punished, few, if any, traitors would then have raised their heads
in the North.
Englishmen forget
that even after a secession, the North, to-day twenty millions, as large as the
whole Union eight years ago, will in ten years be thirty millions; a population
rich, industrious, and hating England with fury.
Seward, having
complete hold of the President, weakens Lincoln's mind by using it up in
hunting after comparatively paltry expedients. Seward-Scott's influence
neutralizes the energetic cry of the country, of the congressmen, and in the
Cabinet that of Blair, who is still a trump.
The emancipation of
slaves is spoken of as an expedient, but not as a sacred duty, even for the
maintenance of the Union. To emancipate through the war power is an offence to
reason, logic, and humanity; but better even so than not at all. War power is
in its nature violent, transient, established for a day; emancipation is the
highest social and economical solution to be given by law and reason, and ought
to result from a thorough and mature deliberation. When the Constitution was
framed, slavery was ashamed of itself, stood in the corner, had no paws.
Now-a-days, slavery has become a traitor, is arrogant, blood-thirsty, worse
than a jackal and a hyena; deliberately slavery is a matricide. And they still
talk of slavery as sheltered by the Constitution; and many once anti-slavery
men like Seward, etc., are ready to preserve it, to compromise with the crime.
The existence of
nations oscillates between epochs when the substance and when the form
prevails. The formation of America was the epoch when substance prevailed.
Afterward, for more than half a century, the form was paramount; the term of
substance again begins. The Constitution is substance and form. The substance
in it is perennial; but every form is transient, and must be expanded, changed,
re-cast.
Few, if any,
Americans are aware of the identity of laws ruling the universe with laws
ruling and prevailing in the historical development of man. Rarely has an
American patience enough to ascend the long chain from effect to cause, until
he reaches the first cause, the womb wherein was first generated the subsequent
distant effect. So, likewise, they cannot realize that at the start the
imperceptible deviation from the aim by and by widens to a bottomless gap until
the aim is missed. Then the greatest and the most devoted sacrifices are
useless. The legal conductors of the nation, since March 6th, ignore this law.
The foreign
ministers here in Washington were astonished at the politeness, when some time
ago the Department sent to the foreign ministers a circular announcing to them
that armed vessels of the neutrals will be allowed to enter at pleasure the
rebel blockaded ports. This favor was not asked, not hoped for, and was not
necessary. It was too late when I called the attention of the Department to the
fact that such favors were very seldom granted; that they are dangerous, and
can occasion complications. I observed that during the war between Mexico and
France, in 1838, Count Mole, Minister of Foreign Affairs, and the Premier of
Louis Philippe, instructed the admiral commanding the French navy in the
Mexican waters, to oppose, even by force, any attempt made by a neutral
man-of-war to enter a blockaded port. And it was not so dangerous then as it
may be in this civil war. But the chief clerk adviser of the Department found
out that President Polk's administration during the Mexican war granted a
similar permission, and, glad to have a precedent, his powerful brains could
not find out the difference between then and now.
The internal routine
of the ministry, and the manner in which our ministers are treated abroad by
the Chief at home, is very strange, humiliating to our agents in the eyes of
foreign Cabinets. Cassius Clay was instructed to propose to Russia our
accession to the convention of Paris, but was not informed from Washington that
our ministers at Paris, London, etc., were to make the same propositions. When
Prince Gortschakoff asked Cassius Clay if similar propositions were made to the
other cosigners of the Paris convention, our minister was obliged to confess
his utter ignorance about the whole proceeding. Prince Gortschakoff
good-naturedly inquired about it from his ministers at Paris and London, and
enlightened Cassius Clay.
No ministry of
foreign affairs in Europe would treat its agents in such a trifling manner,
and, if done, a minister would resent it.
This mistake, or
recklessness, is to be credited principally to the internal chief, or director
of the department, and not to the minister himself. By and by, the chief
clerks, these routinists in the former coarse traditions of the Democratic
administrations, will learn and acquire better diplomatic and bureaucratic
habits.
If one calls the
attention of influential Americans to the mismanagement in the organization of
the army; to the extraordinary way in which everything, as organization of
brigades, and the inner service, the quartermaster's duty, is done, the general
and inevitable answer is, "We are not military; we are young people; we
have to learn." Granted; but instead of learning from the best, the
latest, and most correct authorities, why stick to an obsolete, senile, musty,
rotten, mean, and now-a-days impracticable routine, which is all-powerful in all
relating to the army and to the war? The Americans may pay dear for thus
reversing the rules of common sense.
General Scott
directs from his sleeping room the movements of the two armies on the Potomac
and in the Shenandoah valley. General Scott has given the order to advance. At
least a strange way, to have the command of battle at a distance of thirty and
one hundred miles, and stretched on his fauteuil. Marshal de Saxe, although
deadly sick, was on the field at Fontenoy. What will be the result of this
experimentalization, so contrary to sound reason?
Fighting at Bull
Run. One o'clock, P. M. Good news. Gen. Scott says that although we were 40-100
in disadvantage, nevertheless his plans are successful—all goes as he arranged
it-all as he foresaw it. Bravo! old man! If so, I make amende honorable of all that I said up to this minute. Two o'clock,
P. M. General Scott, satisfied with the justness and success of his strategy
and tactics-takes a nap.
Evening. Battle
lost; rout, panic. The army almost disbanded, in full run. So say the
forerunners of the accursed news. Malediction! Malediction!
What a horrible
night and day! rain and cold; stragglers and disbanded soldiers in every
direction, and no order, nobody to gather the soldiers, or to take care of
them.
As if there existed
not any military or administrative authority in Washington! Under the eyes of
the two commanders-in-chief! Oh, senility, imbecility, ignominy! In Europe, a
commander of a city, or any other military authority whatever, who should
behave in such a way, would be dismissed, nay, expelled, from military service.
What I can gather is, that the enemy was in full retreat in the centre and on
one flank, when he was reinforced by fresh troops, who outflanked and turned
ours. If so, the panic can be explained. Even old veteran troops generally run
when they are outflanked.
Johnston, whom
Patterson permitted to slip, came to the rescue of Beauregard. So they say. It
is en petit Waterloo, with
Blucher-Johnston, and Grouchy-Patterson. But had Napoleon's power survived
after Waterloo, Grouchy, his chief of the staff, and even Ney,1 for
the fault at Quatre-bras, would have been court-martialed and shot. Here these
blind Americans will thank Scott and Patterson.
Others say that a
bold charge of cavalry arrived on our rear, and threw in disorder the wagons
and the baggage gang. That is nothing new; at the battle of Borodino some
Cossacks, pouncing upon the French baggage, created a panic, which for a moment
staggered Napoleon, and prevented him in time from reinforcing Ney and Davoust.
But McDowell committed a fault in putting his baggage train, the ambulances
excepted, on a road between the army and its reserves, which, in such a manner,
came not in action. By and by I shall learn more about it.
The Congress has
made a worse Bull Run than the soldiers. Not a single manly, heroic word to the
nation and the army. As if unsuccess always was dishonor. This body groped its
way, and was morally stunned by the blow; the would-be leaders more than the
mass.
Suggested to Sumner
to make, as the Romans did, a few stirring words on account of the defeat. Some
mean fellows in Congress, who never smelt powder, abused the soldiers. Those
fellows would have been the first to run. Others, still worse, to show their
abject flunkeyism to Scott, and to humbug the public at large about their
intimacy with this fetish, make speeches in his defence. Scott broadly prepared
the defeat, and now, through the mouths of flunkeys and spit-lickers,2
he attempts to throw the fault on the thus called politicians.
The President
telegraphed for McClellan, who in the West, showed rapidity of movement, the
first and most necessary capacity for a commander. Young blood will be infused,
and perhaps senility will be thrown overboard, or sent to the Museum of the
Smithsonian Institute.
At Bull Run the
foreign regiments ran not, but covered the retreat. And Scott, and worse than
he, Thomas, this black spot in the War Department, both are averse to, and when
they can they humiliate, the foreigners. A member of Congress, in search of a
friend, went for several miles up the stream of the fugitive army; great was
his astonishment to hear spoken by the fugitives only the unmixed, pure
Anglo-Saxon.
My friend, J.
Wadsworth, behaved cool, brave, on the field, and was devoted to the wounded.
Now, as always, he is the splendid type of a true man of the people.
During the days
Poor, unhappy
McDowell! when he prepared the army, he was well aware that an eventual success
would be altogether attributed to Scott; but that he, McDowell, would be the
scapegoat for the defeat. Already, when on Sunday morning the news of the first
successes was known, Scott swallowed incense, and took the whole credit of it
to himself. Now he accuses the politicians.
Once more. Scott
himself prepared the defeat. Subsequent elucidation will justify this
assertion. One thing is already certain: one of the reasons of the lost battle
is the exhaustion of troops which fought and the number here in Washington is more
than 50,000 men. Only an imbecile would divide the forces in such a way as to
throw half of it to attack a superior and entrenched enemy. But Scott wished to
shape the great events of the country in accordance with his narrow, ossified
brains, and with his peculiar patriotism; and he did the same in the conduct of
the war.
I am sure some day
or other it will come out that this immense fortification of Manassas is a
similar humbug to the masked batteries; and Scott was the first to aggrandize
these terrible national nightmares. Already many soldiers say that they did not
see any fortifications. Very likely only small earthworks; if so, Scott ought
to have known what was the position and the works of an enemy encamped about
thirty miles from him. If he, Scott, was ignorant, then it shows his utter
imbecility; if he knew that the fortifications were insignificant, and did not
tell it to the troops, then he is worse than an incapable chief. Up to the
present day, all the military leaders of ancient and modern times told their
troops before a battle that the enemy is not much after all, and that the
difficulties to overcome are rather insignificant. After the battle was won,
everything became aggrandized. Here everybody, beginning with Scott, ardently
rivalled how to scare and frighten the volunteers, by stories of the masked
batteries of Manassas, with its several tiers of fortifications, the terrible
superiority of the Southerners, etc., etc. In Europe such behavior would be
called treason.
The administration
and the influential men cannot realize that they must give up their old,
stupid, musty routine. McClellan ought to be altogether independent of Scott;
be untrammelled in his activity; have large powers; have direct action; and not
refer to Scott. What is this wheel within a wheel? Instead of it, Scott, as by
concession, cuts for McClellan a military department of six square miles. Oh,
human stupidity, how difficult thou art to lift!
Scott will paralyze
McClellan as he did Lyon and Butler. Scott always pushed on his spit-lickers,
or favorites, rotten by old age. But Scott has pushed aside such men as Wool
and Col. Smith; refused the services of many brave as Hooker and others,
because they never belonged to his flunkeys. Send to McClellan a plan for the
reorganization of the army.
1st. True mastership
consists in creating an army with extant elements, and not in clamoring for
what is altogether impossible to obtain.
2d. The idea is
preposterous to try to have a large thus-called regular army. A small number,
fifteen to twenty thousand men, divided among several hundreds of thousands of
volunteers, would be as a drop of water in a lake. Besides, this war is to be
decided by the great masses of the volunteers, and it is uncivic and
unpatriotic to in any way nourish the wickedly-assumed discrimination between
regulars and volunteers.
3d. Good
non-commissioned officers and corporals constitute the sole, sound, and easy
articulations of a regiment. Any one who ever was in action is aware of this
truth. With good non-commissioned officers, even ignorant lieutenants do very
little harm. The volunteer regiments ought to have as many good sergeants and
corporals as possible.
4th. To provide for
this want, and for reasons mentioned above, the relics of the regular army
ought to be dissolved. Let us have one army, as the enemy has.
5th. All the rank
and file of the army ought to be made at once corporals and sergeants, and be
distributed as much as possible among the volunteers.
6th. The
non-commissioned regulars ought to be made commissioned officers, and with
officers of all grades be distributed and merged in the one great army.
For the first time
since the armaments, I enjoyed a genuine military view. McClellan, surrounded
as a general ought to be, went to see the army. It looks martial. The city,
likewise, has a more martial look than it had all the time under Scott. It
seems that a young, strong hand holds the ribbons. God grant that McClellan may
preserve his western vigor and activity, and may not become softened and
dissolved by these Washington evaporations. If he does, if he follows the
routine, he will become as impotent as others before him. Young man, beware of
Washington's corrupt but flattering influences. To the camp to the camp! A tent
is better for you than a handsome house. The tent, the fumes of bivouacs,
inspired the Fredericks, the Napoleons, and Washingtons.
Up to this day they
make more history in Secessia than here. Jeff. Davis overshadows Lincoln. Jeff.
Davis and his gang of malefactors are pushed into the whirlpool of action by
the nature of their crime; here, our leaders dread action, and grope. The
rebels have a clear, decisive, almost palpable aim; but here * *
_______________
1 That such would have been the presumed fate
of Ney at the hands of Napoleon, I was afterwards assured by the old Duke of
Bassano, and by the Duchess Abrantes.
2 Foremost among them was the editor of the
New York Times, publishing a long article wherein he proved that he had been
admitted to General Scott's table, and that the General unfolded to him, the
editor, the great anaconda strategy. Exactly the thing to be admired and gulped
by a man of such variegated information as that individual.
That little
villianish "article" had a second object: it was to filch subscribers
from the Tribune, which broke down, not over courageously.
SOURCE: Adam
Gurowski, Diary from March 4, 1861, to November 12, 1862, p. 60
John Van has been
over again and says his regiment is going into winter quarters in the city
outskirts. I hear the 128th has sailed for Fortress Monroe. The papers are all
headed, "Removal of McClellan," and everyone is giving his opinion of
the change. I say nothing because I know too little about it to venture an
opinion. I went out and treated myself to a good square meal to-day and begin
to think I was more hungry than sick, for I feel fit and ready for anything.
Chaplain Parker has been here to see his boys, as he calls them. Says he left
the regiment off Fortress Monroe on board the Arago. He reports them well and
in fine spirits.
SOURCE:
Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 59
This afternoon, when riding down to Huttonville, I met three or four hundred sorry-looking soldiers. They were without arms. On inquiry, I found they were a part of the secession army, who, finding no way of escape, had come into our lines and surrendered. They were badly dressed, and a hard, dissolute-looking lot of men. To use the language of one of the soldiers, they were "a milk-sickly set of fellows," and would have died off probably without any help from us if they had been kept in the mountains a little longer. They were on their way to Staunton. General McClellan had very generously provided them with provisions for three days, and wagons to carry the sick and wounded; and so, footsore, weary, and chopfallen, they go over the hills.
An unpleasant rumor is in camp to-night, to the effect that General Patterson has been defeated at Williamsport. This, if true, will counterbalance our successes in Western Virginia, and make the game an even one.
The Southern soldiers mentioned above are encamped for the night a little over a mile from here. About dusk I walked over to their camp. They were gathered around their fires preparing supper.
Many of them say they were deceived, and entered the service because they were led to believe that the Northern army would confiscate their property, liberate their slaves, and play the devil generally. As they thought this was true, there was nothing left for them to do but to take up arms and defend themselves. While we were at Buckhannon, an old farmer-looking man visited us daily, bringing tobacco, cornbread, and cucumber pickles. This innocent old gen[tle]man proves to have been a spy, and obtained his reward in the loss of a leg at Rich mountain.
SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 30-1
Officers and men are low-spirited to-night. The news of yesterday has been confirmed. Our army has been beaten at Manassas with terrible loss. General McClellan has left Beverly for Washington. General Rosecrans will assume command in Western Virginia. We are informed that twenty miles from us, in the direction of Staunton, some three thousand secessionists are in camp. We shall probably move against them.
SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 34
The Fourth has passed off quietly in the little town of Buckhannon and in camp.
At ten o'clock the Third and Fourth Regiments were reviewed by General McClellan. The day was excessively warm, and the men, buttoned up in their dress-coats, were much wearied when the parade was over.
In the court-house this evening, the soldiers had what they call a "stag dance." Camp life to a young man who has nothing specially to tie him to home has many attractions—abundance of company, continual excitement, and all the fun and frolic that a thousand light-hearted boys can devise.
To-night, in one tent, a dozen or more are singing "Dixie" at the top of their voices. In another "The Star-Spangled Banner" is being executed so horribly that even a secessionist ought to pity the poor tune. Stories, cards, wrestling, boxing, racing, all these and a thousand other things enter into a day in camp. The roving, uncertain life of a soldier has a tendency to harden and demoralize most men. The restraints of home, family, and society are not felt. The fact that a few hours may put them in battle, where their lives will not be worth a fig, is forgotten. They think a hundred times less of the perils by which they may be surrounded than their friends do at home. They encourage and strengthen each other to such an extent that, when exposed to danger, imminent though it be, they do not seem to realize it.
SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 13-4
On the 5th instant a scouting party, under Captain Lawson, started for Middle Fork bridge, a point eighteen miles from camp. At eight o'clock last night, when I brought the battalion from the drill-ground, I found that a messenger had arrived with intelligence that Lawson had been surrounded by a force of probably four hundred, and that, in the engagement, one of his men had been killed and three wounded. The camp was alive with excitement. Each company of the Third had contributed five men to Captain Lawson's detachment, and each company, therefore, felt a special interest in it. The messenger stated that Captain Lawson was in great need of help, and General McClellan at once ordered four companies of infantry and twenty mounted men to move to his assistance. I had command of the detachment, and left camp about nine o'clock P. M., accompanied by a guide. The night was dark. My command moved on silently and rapidly. After proceeding about three miles, we left the turnpike and turned onto a narrow, broken, bad road, leading through the woods, which we followed about eight miles, when we met Captain Lawson's detachment on its way back. Here we removed the wounded from the farm wagon in which they had been conveyed thus far, to an ambulance brought with us for the purpose, countermarched, and reached our quarters about three o'clock this morning.
I will not undertake to give the details of Captain Lawson's skirmish. I may say, however, that the number of the enemy killed and wounded, lacerated and torn, by Corporal Casey, was beyond all computation. Had the rebels not succeeded in getting a covered bridge between themselves and the invincible Irishman, he would, if we may believe his own statement, have annihilated the whole force, and brought back the head of their commanding officer on the point of his bayonet.
SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 14-5
This morning, at seven o'clock, our tents were struck, and, with General McClellan and staff in advance, we moved to Middle Fork bridge. It was here that Captain Lawson's skirmish on Saturday had occurred. The man killed had been buried by the Fourth Ohio before our arrival. Almost every house along the road is deserted by the men, the women sometimes remaining. The few Union men of this section have, for weeks past, been hiding away in the hills. Now the secessionists have taken to the woods. The utmost bitterness of feeling exists between the two. A man was found to-day, within a half mile of this camp, with his head cut off and entrails ripped out, probably a Union man who had been hounded down and killed. The Dutch regiment (McCook's), when it took possession of the bridge, had a slight skirmish with the enemy, and, I learn, killed two men. On the day after to-morrow I apprehend the first great battle will be fought in Western Virginia.
I ate breakfast in Buckhannon at six o'clock A. M., and now, at six o'clock P. M. am awaiting my second meal.
The boys, I ascertain, searched one secession house on the road, and found three guns and a small amount of ammunition. The guns were hunting pieces, all loaded. The woman of the house was very indignant, and spoke in disrespectful terms of the Union men of the neighborhood, whom she suspected of instigating the search. She said she "had come from a higher sphere than they, and would not lay down with dogs." She was an Eastern Virginia woman, and, although poor as a church mouse, thought herself superior to West Virginia people. As an indication of this lady's refinement and loyalty, it is only necessary to say that a day or two before she had displayed a secession flag made, as she very frankly told the soldiers, of the tail of an old shirt, with J. D. and S. C. on it, the letters standing for Jefferson Davis and the Southern Confederacy.
Four or five thousand men are encamped here, huddled together in a little circular valley, with high hills surrounding. A company of cavalry is just going by my tent on the road toward Beverly, probably to watch the front.
As we were leaving camp this morning, an officer of an Ohio regiment rode at break-neck speed along the line, inquiring for General McClellan, and yelling, as he passed, that four companies of the regiment to which he belongs had been surrounded at Glendale, by twelve hundred secessionists, under O. Jennings Wise. Our men, misapprehending the statement, thought Buckhannon had been attacked, and were in a great state of excitement.
The officers of General Schleich's staff were with me on to-day's march, and the younger members, Captains Hunter and Dubois, got off whatever poetry they had in them of a military cast. "On Linden when the sun was low," was recited to the hills of Western Virginia in a manner that must have touched even the stoniest of them. I could think of nothing but "There was a sound of revelry by night," and as this was not particularly applicable to the occasion, owing to the exceeding brightness of the sun, and the entire absence of all revelry, I thought best not to astonish my companions by exhibiting my knowledge of the poets.
West Virginia hogs are the longest, lankest, boniest animals in creation. I am reminded of this by that broth of an Irish lad, Conway, who says, in substance, and with a broad Celtic accent, that their noses have to be sharpened every morning to enable them to pick a living among the rocks.
Colonel Marrow informs me that an attack is apprehended to-night. We have sent out strong pickets. The cannon are so placed as to shoot up the road. Our regiment is to form on the left of the turnpike, and the Dutch regiment on the right, in case the secession forces should be bold enough to come down on us.
SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 16-8
From the best information obtainable, we are led to believe the mountains and hills lying between this place and Beverly are strongly fortified and full of men. We can see a part of the enemy's fortifications very plainly from a hill west of camp. Our regiment was ordered to be in readiness to march, and was under arms two hours. During this time the Dutch regiment (McCook's), the Fourth Ohio, four pieces of artillery, one company of cavalry, with General McClellan, marched to the front, the Dutchmen in advance. They proceeded, say a mile, when they overhauled the enemy's pickets, and in the little skirmish which ensued one man of McCook's regiment was shot, and two of the enemy captured. By these prisoners it is affirmed that eight or nine thousand men are in the hills before us, well armed, with heavy artillery planted so as to command the road for miles. How true this is we can not tell. Enough, however, has been learned to satisfy McClellan that it is not advisable to attack today. What surprises me is that the General should know so little about the character of the country, the number of the enemy, and the extent of his fortifications.
During the day, Colonel Marrow, apparently under a high state of excitement, informed me that he had just had an interview with George (he usually speaks of General McClellan in this familiar way), that an attack was to be made, and the Third was to lead the column. He desired me, therefore, to get out my horse at once, take four men with me, and search the woods in our front for a practicable road to the enemy. I asked if General McClellan had given him any information that would aid me in this enterprise, such as the position of the rebels, the location of their outposts, their distance from us, and the character of the country between our camp and theirs. He replied that George had not. It occurred to me that four men were rather too few, if the work contemplated was a reconnoissance, and rather too many if the service required was simply that for which spies are usually employed. I therefore spoke distrustingly of the proposed expedition, and questioned the propriety of sending so small a force, so utterly without information, upon so hazardous an enterprise, and apparently so foolish a one. My language gave offense, and when I finally inquired what four men I should take, the Colonel told me, rather abruptly, to take whom I pleased, and look where I pleased. His manner, rather than his words, indicated a doubt of my courage, and I turned from him, mounted my horse, and started for the front, determined to obey the order to the best of my ability, but to risk the lives of no others on what was evidently a fool's errand. After proceeding some distance, I found that the wagon-master was at my heels, and, together, we traced every cowpath and mountain road we could find, and passed half a mile beyond the enemy's outposts, and over ground visited by his scouts almost hourly. When I returned to make my report, I was curtly informed that no report was desired, as the plan had been changed.
A little after midnight the Colonel returned from head-quarters with important information, which he desired to communicate to the regiment. The men were, therefore, ordered to turn out, and came hesitatingly and sleepily from their tents. They looked like shadows as they gathered in the darkness about their chieftain. It was the hour when graveyards are supposed to yawn, and the sheeted dead to walk abroad. The gallant Colonel, with a voice in perfect accord with the solemnity of the hour, and the funereal character of the scene, addressed us, in substance, as follows:
"Soldiers of the Third: The assault on the enemy's works will be made in the early morning. The Third will lead the column. The secessionists have ten thousand men and forty rifled cannon. They are strongly fortified. They have more men and more cannon than we have. They will cut us to pieces. Marching to attack such an enemy, so intrenched and so armed, is marching to a butcher-shop rather than to a battle. There is bloody work ahead. Many of you, boys, will go out who will never come back again."
As this speech progressed my hair began to stiffen at the roots, and a chilly sensation like that which might ensue from the unexpected and clammy touch of the dead, ran through me. It was hard to die so young and so far from home. Theological questions which before had attracted little or no attention, now came uppermost in our minds. We thought of mothers, wives, sweethearts—of opportunities lost, and of good advice disregarded. Some soldiers kicked together the expiring fragments of a campfire, and the little blaze which sprang up revealed scores of pallid faces. In short, we all wanted to go home.
When a boy I had read Plutarch, and knew something of the great warriors of the old time; but I could not, for the life of me, recall an instance wherein they had made such an address to their soldiers on the eve of battle. It was their habit, at such a time, to speak encouragingly and hopefully. With all due respect, therefore, for the superior rank and wisdom of the Colonel, I plucked him by the sleeve, took him one side, and modestly suggested that his speech had had rather a depressing effect on the regiment, and had taken that spirit out of the boys so necessary to enable them to do well in battle. I urged him to correct the mistake, and speak to them hopefully. He replied that what he had said was true, and they should know the truth.
The morning dawned; but instead of being called upon to lead the column, we were left to the inglorious duty of guarding the camp, while other regiments moved forward toward the enemy's line. In half an hour, in all probability, the work of destruction will commence. I began this memoranda on the evening of the 10th, and now close it on the morning of the 11th.
SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 20-24
At 10 A. M. we were ordered to the front; passed quite a number of regiments on our way thither, and finally took position not far from the enemy's works. We were now at the head of the column. A small brook crossed the road at this point, and the thick woods concealed us from the enemy. A few rods further on, a bend in the road gave us a good view of the entire front of his fortifications. Major Keifer and a few other gentlemen, in their anxiety to get more definite information in regard to the position of the secessionists, and the extent of their works, went up the road, and were saluted by a shot from their battery. We expected every moment to receive an order to advance. After a time, however, we ascertained that Rosecrans, with a brigade, was seeking the enemy's rear by a mountain path, and we conjectured that, so soon as he had reached it, we would be ordered to make the assault in front. It was a dark, gloomy day, and the hours passed slowly.
Between two and three o'clock we heard shots in the rear of the fortifications; then volleys of musketry, and the roar of artillery. Every man sprang to his feet, assured that the moment for making the attack had arrived. General McClellan and staff came galloping up, and a thousand faces turned to hear the order to advance; but no order was given. The General halted a few paces from our line, and sat on his horse listening to the guns, apparently in doubt as to what to do; and as he sat there with indecision stamped on every line of his countenance, the battle grew fiercer in the enemy's rear. Every volley could be heard distinctly. There would occasionally be a lull for a moment, and then the uproar would break out again with increased violence. If the enemy is too strong for us to attack, what must be the fate of Rosecrans' four regiments, cut off from us, and struggling against such odds? Hours passed; and as the last straggling shots and final silence told us the battle had ended, gloom settled down on every soldier's heart, and the belief grew strong that Rosecrans had been defeated, and his brigade cut to pieces or captured. This belief grew to certain conviction. Soon after, when we heard shout after shout go up from the fortifications in our front.
Major Keifer with two companies had, early in the afternoon, climbed the hill on our right to look for a position from which artillery could be used effectively. The ground over which he moved was broken and covered with a dense growth of trees and underbrush; finally an elevation was discovered which commanded the enemy's camp, but before a road could be cut, and the artillery brought up, it was too late in the day to begin the attack.
Night came on. It was intensely dark. About nine o'clock we were ordered to withdraw our pickets quietly and return to our old quarters. On our way thither a rough voice cried: "Halt! Who comes there?" And a thousand shadowy forms sprang up before us. The challenge was from Colonel Robert McCook, and the regiment his. The scene reminded me of the one where
SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 24-6
Six or eight hundred Southern troops sent in a flag of truce, and surrendered unconditionally. They are a portion of the force which fought Rosecrans at Rich mountain, and Morris at Laurel Hill.
We started up the Valley river at seven o'clock this morning, our regiment in the lead. Found most of the houses deserted. Both Union men and secessionists had fled. The Southern troops, retreating in this direction, had frightened the people greatly, by telling them that we shot men, ravished women, and destroyed property. When within three-quarters of a mile of Huttonville, we were informed that forty or fifty mounted secessionists were there. The order to double-quick was given, and the regiment entered the village on a run. As we made a turn in the road, we discovered a squad of cavalry retreating rapidly. The bridge over the river had been burned, and was still smoking. Our troops sent up a hurrah and quickened their pace, but they had already traveled eleven miles on a light breakfast, and were not in condition to run down cavalry. That we might not lose at least one shot at the enemy, I got an Enfield rifle from one of the men, galloped forward, and fired at the retreating squad. It was the best shot I could make, and I am forced to say it was a very poor one, for no one fell. On second thought, it occurred to me that it would have been criminal to have killed one of these men, for his death could have had no possible effect on the result of the war.
Huttonville is a very small place at the foot of Cheat mountain. We halted there perhaps one hour, to await the arrival of General McClellan; and when he came up, were ordered forward to secure a mountain pass. It is thought fifteen hundred secessionists are a few miles ahead, near the top of the mountain. Two Indiana regiments and one battery are with us. More troops are probably following.
The man who owns the farm on which we are encamped is, with his family, sleeping in the woods tonight, if, indeed, he sleeps at all.
SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 27-8
Arrived at Edwards
Ferry by six o'clock A. M. Two thousand men were already landed on the Virginia
shore, opposite the ferry, others were continually crossing on canal boats.
Since daylight, rain fell incessantly. On the Virginia side, skirmishing was
going on all day. At five o'clock both lines of battle advanced. brisk fight
commenced. Two brass howitzers of Rickett's battery, First United States
Artillery, did good execution, being in position on the Virginia shore. While
the fight continued, the Twenty-eighth Pennsylvania, Col. Geary, the Twenty-ninth,
Col. Mury, and Van Allen's cavalry, were sent as reinforcements across the
Potomac. Fighting ceased an hour afterwards. Capt. Vaughan went to the enemy's
lines, under a flag of truce, to see about some of his wounded men in the hands
of the rebels. Gen. McClellan arrived at night.
SOURCE: Theodore
Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light
Artillery, p. 25
In camp at
Warrenton. Gen. McClellan left the army to-day, and Gen. Burnside was his
successor. He reviewed the troops before he left, and we fired a salute of
thirteen guns. Gen. McClellan was the father of the Army of the Potomac.
SOURCE: John Lord
Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second
Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light
Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 269
I cannot but feel
depressed at what seems to be great imbecility in the management of our
military affairs. By whose fault, I know not. Here we are with one hundred and
fifty thousand troops, and we can stand on our National Capitol and see the
rebels fortifying on Munson's Hill. I wonder if Gen. McClellan does not need a
rest to hold his glass steady whilst he looks at them.
We have just
received news of Dupont's having got a foothold in North Carolina. This places
us in rear of the enemy, and brightens our prospects wonderfully, if our army
there will only press their advantage.
SOURCE: Alfred L.
Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of
Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B.
McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day
January, 1863, p. 20
Part of the truth
relating to the story of yesterday's fight has come to light. The fact is,
these "great fights," "great victories,” “great number of
prisoners," "great numbers killed," are the greatest humbugs of
the times, and as a specimen I put on record here the stories with the facts of
yesterday. At 8 o'clock A. M. a body of soldiers passed up the turnpike. They
were followed by batteries of artillery, and a few companies of cavalry. What
does all this mean? was asked. And everyone wishing to be wise, an answer was
soon manufactured satisfactory "to all concerned." "Four
thousand infantry and artillery had passed (Lie No. 1, there were only 2,000),
to take a fort about seven miles off.” (Lie No. 2, there was no fort near.)
About 12 o'clock we began to hear frequent reports of artillery, and by 2 P. M.
the firing was brisk, and we could see the smoke of the shells exploding in the
air from four to five miles away. About 3 o'clock we got orders to march on
double-quick to the support of our troops, who were said to be retreating.
(Truth No. 1.) Off we went on a full run, all vieing to see who could get there
first. We had gone about a mile, when we were told to push forward, that one of
our regiments was surrounded and being cut to pieces. (Lie No. 3.) On we went
for another half mile, when "Halt, the rebels are retreating," (lie
No. 4,) and in a few minutes, "We must change our position, for the rebels
were flanking us." (Lie No. 5.) A few minutes later, our officers ordered
us back to camp; we had gained a great victory. (Lie No. 6.)
Now these are the
generalities of statements of the "great victory" of yesterday, which
are being proclaimed to-day loud-mouthed. Let me put here the particulars, that
in future when I hear of our great victories, I may refer to these, and draw
some conclusion as to the probability of their truth.
In the morning,
about two thousand men from Gen. Smith's division, with a few pieces of
artillery, passed up the pike to reconnoitre, in other words to examine the
country and to ascertain what they could of the whereabouts of the enemy. They
made their reconnoissance and started for camp. When they had marched about a
quarter of a mile on their return, the rebels opened fire on them from a masked
battery. Our artillery replied quickly and with spirit, our shot and shell
mowing down hazels, oak grubs and saplings. These were all the enemy they saw.
But above the heavy brush, in which the enemy's batteries were masked, the
smoke from their guns could be distinctly seen, and into this brush we fired
without knowing the effects of our shot, though it is said that we silenced
their battery. After about an hour thus spent our force retired, with the loss
of some twenty or thirty men in killed and wounded, without capturing the
battery which they had silenced, or without taking time to bring away even our
own killed and wounded! What a "glorious victory!" So glorious that
we must rush back to camp to announce it, leaving the enemy to look after our
killed and wounded! A few "such victories would ruin us." Gen.
McClellan visited us to-day; made a speech, and promised us the luxury of a
fight soon unless the rebels run. The appreciation of his kind promise was
manifested by most unmistakable signs of joy.
SOURCE: Alfred L.
Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of
Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B.
McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day
January, 1863, p. 28-30
It is half-past
eight o'clock, and we are still but eight miles from Clarksburg. We were
informed this morning that the secession troops had left Buckhannon, and fallen
back to their fortifications at Laurel Hill and Rich mountain. It is said
General McClellan will be here to-morrow, and take command of the forces in
person.
In enumerating the
troops in this vicinity, I omitted to mention Colonel Robert McCook's Dutch
regiment, which is in camp two miles from us. The Seventh Ohio Infantry is now
at Clarksburg, and will, I think, move in this direction to-morrow.
Provisions outside
of camp are very scarce. I took breakfast with a farmer this morning, and can
say truly that I have eaten much better meals in my life. We had coffee without
sugar, short-cake without butter, and a little salt pork, exceedingly fat. I
asked him what the charge was, and he said "Ninepence," which means
one shilling. I rejoiced his old soul by giving him two shillings.
The country people
here have been grossly deceived by their political leaders. They have been made
to believe that Lincoln was elected for the sole purpose of liberating the
negro; that our army is marching into Virginia to free their slaves, destroy their
property, and murder their families; that we, not they; have set the
Constitution and laws at defiance, and that in resisting us they are simply
defending their homes and fighting for their constitutional rights.
SOURCE: John Beatty,
The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 11-12
Two men in the guard-house.
We are improving. Baltimore whiskey got into the camp some way and these men
found it. At dress parade to-night, a dispatch was read to us saying a great
battle had been fought and a great victory won by McClellan. We gave three
cheers that must have reached the scene of battle. It has set us up
wonderfully.
SOURCE: Lawrence Van
Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p.
27
