Diary of Private Louis Leon: July 6, 1863

Our company was ordered out as skirmishers to-day, as our regular skirmish corps was broken up during the fight. We were the rear of the army, and therefore had a very hard job before us. Fighting all day in falling back we certainly had fun. We were close enough to the enemy to hear their commands. We would hold them in check and give them a few rounds, then fall back again. They would then advance until we would make a stand, fight again, and so it was until we reached Fairfield, six miles from Gettysburg. I don't think there were many lost on either side in this skirmish. We crossed South Mountain at Monteray Gap. When we came to the above town I pressed into service a citizen's coat, in this way: We were ordered to rest, and, as usual, we would sit on fences and lay about the road. Some of the boys jumped on an old hog pen. It broke

through. They fell in, and, lo and behold, there were boxes of clothing, dresses, shawls, blankets, and, in fact, everything in the line of wearing apparel. I, being a little fellow, crawled through some of the boys' legs and captured the coat. If the fool citizen would have left his things in his house they would have been safe, but to put it in our way was too much for us to leave behind. We also passed through Waterboro, and Waynesboro, Pa., where the Maryland line commences. We then passed through Latisburg, and halted in Hagerstown, Md., on the evening of the 7th. We marched yesterday and all night up to 11 o'clock-twenty-four miles.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 38-9

Diary of Private Louis Leon: June 19, 1863

Left at 8 A.M., and seven miles took us to Hagerstown, Md. Here the men greeted us very shabby, but the ladies quite the reverse. This town has 5,000 inhabitants, and is a very pretty town. We camped on the Antietam.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 32

Major-General Alfred Pleasonton to Major-General William H. French, July 5, 1863 – Received 11 a.m.

HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC, July 5, 1863.   

(Received 11 a.m.)

Major-General FRENCH:

GENERAL: Major-General Meade desires me to say that, in consequence of a large body of the enemy being concentrated in the road toward Hagerstown, beyond Fairfield, he has suspended his operations for the present. Indications go to show that he intends evacuating the Cumberland Valley, but it is not yet positively ascertained. Until so ascertained, the general does not feel justified in leaving here and moving down toward you.

I am, general, yours, &c.,

A. PLEASONTON,  

Major-general.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 27, Part 3 (Serial No. 45), p. 534

John Brown [alias Isaac Smith] to John H. Kagi, June 30, 1859

Chambersburg, Penn., June 30, 1859.

John Henrie, Esq.

Dear Sir, — We leave here to-day for Harper's Ferry, via Hagerstown. When you get there you had best look on the hotel register for I. Smith & Sons, without making much inquiry. We shall be looking for cheap lands near the railroad in all probability. You can write I. Smith & Sons, at Harper's Ferry, should you need to do so.

Yours, in truth,

I. Smith.

SOURCE: Franklin B. Sanborn, The Life and Letters of John Brown, p. 526

Diary of Gideon Welles: Tuesday, July 7, 1863

The President said this morning, with a countenance indicating sadness and despondency, that Meade still lingered at Gettysburg, when he should have been at Hagerstown or near the Potomac, to cut off the retreating army of Lee. While unwilling to complain and willing and anxious to give all praise to the general and army for the great battle and victory, he feared the old idea of driving the Rebels out of Pennsylvania and Maryland, instead of capturing them, was still prevalent among the officers. He hoped this was not so, said he had spoken to Halleck and urged that the right tone and spirit should be infused into officers and men, and that General Meade especially should be reminded of his (the President's) wishes and expectations. But General Halleck gave him a short and curt reply, showing that he did not participate and sympathize in this feeling, and, said the President, “I drop the subject.”

This is the President's error. His own convictions and conclusions are infinitely superior to Halleck's, — even in military operations more sensible and more correct always, — but yet he says, “It being strictly a military question, it is proper I should defer to Halleck, whom I have called here to counsel, advise, and direct in these matters, where he is an expert.” I question whether he should be considered an expert. I look upon Halleck as a pretty good scholarly critic of other men's deeds and acts, but as incapable of originating or directing military operations.

When I returned from the Cabinet council I found a delegation from Maine at the Department, consisting of Vice-President Hamlin, the two Senators from that State, and Senator Wilson of Massachusetts. These gentlemen had first waited on the President in regard to the coast defenses and protection of the fishermen, and were referred by him to me instead of the army, which claims to defend the harbors. At the moment of receiving this delegation I was handed a dispatch from Admiral Porter, communicating the fall of Vicksburg on the fourth of July. Excusing myself to the delegation, I immediately returned to the Executive Mansion. The President was detailing certain points relative to Grant's movements on the map to Chase and two or three others, when I gave him the tidings. Putting down the map, he rose at once, said we would drop these topics, and “I myself will telegraph this news to General Meade.” He seized his hat, but suddenly stopped, his countenance beaming with joy; he caught my hand, and, throwing his arm around me, exclaimed: “What can we do for the Secretary of the Navy for this glorious intelligence? He is always giving us good news. I cannot, in words, tell you my joy over this result. It is great, Mr. Welles, it is great!”

We walked across the lawn together. “This,” said he, “will relieve Banks. It will inspire me.” The opportunity I thought a good one to request him to insist upon his own views, to enforce them, not only on Meade but on Halleck.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 363-5

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Thursday, July 9, 1863

I left Hagerstown at 8 A.M., in my conductor's good buggy, after saying farewell to Lawley, the Austrian, and the numerous Confederate officers who came to see me off, and wish me good-luck. We passed the Confederate advanced post at about two miles from Hagerstown, and were allowed to pass on the production of General Lee's authority. I was now fairly launched beyond the Confederate lines for the first time since I had been in America. Immediately afterwards we began to be asked all sorts of inquisitive questions about the rebels, which I left to my driver to answer. It became perfectly evident that this narrow strip of Maryland is entirely Unionist.

At about 12 o'clock we reached the top of a high hill, and halted to bait our horse at an inn called Fairview. No sooner had we descended from the buggy than about twenty rampageous Unionists appeared, who told us they had come up to get a good view of the big fight in which the G—d d----d rebels were to be all captured, or drowned in the Potomac.

My appearance evidently did not please them from the very first. With alarm I observed them talking to one another, and pointing at me. At length a particularly truculent-looking individual, with an enormous mustache, approached me, and, fixing his eyes long and steadfastly upon my trousers, he remarked, in the surliest possible tones, “Them breeches is a d----d bad colour.” This he said in allusion, not to their dirty state, but to the fact of their being grey, the rebel colour. I replied to this very disagreeable assertion in as conciliating a way as I possibly could; and in answer to his question as to who I was, I said that I was an English traveller. He then said that his wife was an English lady from Preston. I next expressed my pride in being a countryman of his wife's. He then told me in tones that admitted of no contradiction, that Preston was just forty-five miles east of London; and he afterwards launched into torrents of invectives against the rebels, who had run him, out of Virginia; and he stated his intention of killing them in great numbers to gratify his taste. With some difficulty I prevailed upon him and his rabid brethren to drink, which pacified them slightly for a time; but when the horse was brought out to be harnessed, it became evident I was not to be allowed to proceed without a row. I therefore addressed the crowd, and asked them quietly who among them wished to detain me; and I told them, at the same time, that I would not answer any questions put by those who were not persons in authority, but that I should be most happy to explain myself to any officer of the United States army. At length they allowed me to proceed, on the understanding that my buggy-driver should hand me over to General Kelly, at Hancock. The driver was provided with a letter for the General, in which I afterwards discovered that I was denounced as a spy, and “handed over to the General to be dealt with as justice to our cause demands.” We were then allowed to start, the driver being threatened with condign vengeance if he let me escape.

After we had proceeded about six miles we fell in with some Yankee cavalry, by whom we were immediately captured, and the responsibility of my custody was thus removed from my conductor's shoulders. A cavalry soldier was put in charge of us, and we passed through the numerous Yankee outposts under the title of “Prisoners.”

The hills near Hancock were white with Yankee tents, and there were, I believe, from 8000 to 10,000 Federals there. I did not think much of the appearance of the Northern troops; they are certainly dressed in proper uniform, but their clothes are badly fitted, and they are often round-shouldered, dirty, and slovenly in appearance; in fact, bad imitations of soldiers. Now, the Confederate has no ambition to imitate the regular soldier at all; he looks the genuine rebel; but in spite of his bare feet, his ragged clothes, his old rug, and tooth-brush stuck like a rose in his button-hole,* he has a sort of devil-may-care, reckless, self-confident look, which is decidedly taking.

At 5 P.M. we drove up in front of the door of General Kelly's quarters, and to my immense relief I soon discovered that he was a gentleman. I then explained to him the whole truth, concealing nothing. I said I was a British officer on leave of absence, travelling for my own instruction; that I had been all the way to Mexico, and entered the Southern States by the Rio Grande, for the express purpose of not breaking any legally established blockade. I told him I had visited all the Southern armies in Mississippi, Tennessee, Charleston, and Virginia, and seen the late campaign as General Longstreet's guest, but had in no way entered the Confederate service. I also gave him my word that I had not got in my possession any letters, either public or private, from any person in the South to any person anywhere else. I showed him my British passport and General Lee's pass as a British officer; and I explained that my only object in coming North was to return to England in time for the expiration of my leave; and I ended by expressing a hope that he would make my detention as short as possible.

After considering a short time, he said that he would certainly allow me to go on, but that he could not allow my driver to go back. I felt immensely relieved at the decision, but the countenance of my companion lengthened considerably. It was, however, settled that he should take me on to Cumberland, and General Kelly good-naturedly promised to do what he could for him on his return.

General Kelly then asked me in an off-hand manner whether all General Lee's army was at Hagerstown; but I replied, laughing, “You of course understand, General, that, having got that pass from General Lee, I am bound by every principle of honour not to give you any information which can be of advantage to you.” He laughed and promised not to ask me any more questions of that sort. He then sent his aide-de-camp with me to the provost-marshal, who immediately gave me a pass for Cumberland. On my return to the General's, I discovered the perfidious driver (that zealous Southerner a few hours previous) hard at work communicating to General Kelly all he knew, and a great deal more besides; but, from what I heard, I don't think his information was very valuable.

I was treated by General Kelly and all his officers with the greatest good-nature and courtesy, although I had certainly come among them under circumstances suspicious, to say the least. I felt quite sorry that they should be opposed to my Southern friends, and I regretted still more that they should be obliged to serve with or under a Butler, a Milroy, or even a Hooker. I took leave of them at six o'clock; and I can truly say that the only Federal officers I have ever come in contact with were gentlemen.

We had got four miles beyond Hancock, when the tire of one of our wheels came off, and we had to stop for a night at a farmhouse. I had supper with the farmer and his labourers, who had just come in from the fields, and the supper was much superior to that which can be procured at the first hotel at Richmond. All were violent Unionists, and perfectly under the impression that the rebels were totally demoralised, and about to lay down their arms. Of course I held my tongue, and gave no one reason to suppose that I had ever been in rebeldom.

_______________

* This tooth-brush in the button-hole is a very common custom, and has a most quaint effect.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 298-303

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Tuesday, July 7, 1863

Lawley, the Austrian, and I drove into Hagerstown this morning, and General Longstreet moved into a new position on the Williamsport road, which he was to occupy for the present. We got an excellent room in the Washington Hotel on producing greenbacks. Public opinion in Hagerstown seems to be pretty evenly divided between North and South, and probably accommodates itself to circumstances. For instance, yesterday the women waved their handkerchiefs when the Yankee cavalry were driven through the town, and to-day they went through the same compliment in honour of 3500 Yankee (Gettysburg) prisoners whom I saw marched through en, route for Richmond. I overheard the conversation of some Confederate soldiers about these prisoners. One remarked, with respect to the Zouaves, of whom there were a few — “Those red-breeched fellows look as if they could fight, but they don't, though; no, not so well as the blue-bellies.”

Lawley introduced me to General Stuart in the streets of Hagerstown to-day. He is commonly called Jeb Stuart, on account of his initials; he is a good-looking, jovial character, exactly like his photographs. He has certainly accomplished wonders, and done excellent service in his peculiar style of warfare. He is a good and gallant soldier, though he sometimes incurs ridicule by his harmless affectation and peculiarities. The other day he rode through a Virginian town, his horse covered with garlands of roses. He also departs considerably from the severe simplicity of dress adopted by other Confederate generals; but no one can deny that he is the right man in the right place. On a campaign, he seems to roam over the country according to his own discretion, and always gives a good account of himself, turning up at the right moment; and hitherto he has never got himself into any serious trouble.

I rode to General Longstreet's camp, which is about two miles in the direction of Williamsport, and consulted him about my difficulties with regard to my leave. He was most good-natured about it, and advised me under the circumstances to drive in the direction of Hancock; and, in the event of being ill-treated on my way, to insist upon being taken before the nearest U.S. officer of the highest rank, who would probably protect me. I determined to take his advice at once; so I took leave of him and of his officers. Longstreet is generally a very taciturn and undemonstrative man, but he was quite affectionate in his farewell. His last words were a hearty hope for the speedy termination of the war. All his officers were equally kind in their expressions on my taking leave, though the last sentence uttered by Latrobe was not entirely reassuring—viz., "You may take your oath he'll be caught for a spy."

I then rode to General Lee's camp, and asked him for a pass to get through his lines. We had a long talk together, and he told me of the raid made by the enemy, for the express purpose of arresting his badly wounded son (a Confederate Brigadier-General), who was lying in the house of a relation in Virginia. They insisted upon carrying him off in a litter, though he had never been out of bed, and had quite recently been shot through the thigh. This seizure was evidently made for purposes of retaliation. His life has since been threatened, in the event of the South retaliating for Burnside's alleged military murders in Kentucky. But few officers, however, speak of the Northerners with so much moderation as General Lee; his extreme amiability seems to prevent his speaking strongly against any one. I really felt quite sorry when I said good-bye to so many gentlemen from whom I had received so much disinterested kindness.

I am now about to leave the Southern States, after travelling quite alone throughout their entire length and breadth, including Texas and the trans-Mississippi country, for nearly three months and a half, during which time I have been thrown amongst all classes of the population — the highest, the lowest, and the most lawless. Although many were very sore about the conduct of England, I never received an uncivil word from anybody, but, on the contrary, I have been treated by all with more than kindness.* I have never met a man who was not anxious for a termination of the war; and I have never met a man, woman, or child who contemplated its termination as possible without an entire separation from the now detested Yankee. I have never been asked for alms or a gratuity by any man or woman, black or white. Every one knew who I was, and all spoke to me with the greatest confidence. I have rarely heard any person complain of the almost total ruin which has befallen so many. All are prepared to undergo still greater sacrifices, — they contemplate and prepare to receive great reverses which it is impossible to avert. They look to a successful termination of the war as certain, although few are sanguine enough to fix a speedy date for it, and nearly all bargain for its lasting at least all Lincoln's presidency. Although I have always been with the Confederates in the time of their misfortunes, yet I never heard any person use a desponding word as to the result of the struggle. When I was in Texas and Louisiana, Banks seemed to be carrying everything before him, Grant was doing the same in Mississippi, and I certainly did not bring luck to my friends at Gettysburg. I have lived in bivouacs with all the Southern armies, which are as distinct from one another as the British is from the Austrian, and I have never once seen an instance of insubordination.

When I got back to Hagerstown, I endeavoured to make arrangements for a horse and buggy to drive through the lines. With immense difficulty I secured the services of a Mr ——, to take me to Hancock, and as much farther as I chose to go, for a dollar a mile (greenbacks). I engaged also to pay him the value of his horse and buggy, in case they should be confiscated by either side. He was evidently extremely alarmed, and I was obliged to keep him up to the mark by assurances that his horse would inevitably be seized by the Confederates, unless protected by General Lee's pass in my possession.

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* The only occasion on which I was roughly handled was when I had the misfortune to enter the city of Jackson, Mississippi, just as the Federals evacuated it. I do not complain of that affair, which, under the circumstances, was not to be wondered at.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 292-7

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Friday, June 26, 1863

I got up a little before daylight, and, notwithstanding the drenching rain, I secured our horses, which, to my intense relief, were present. But my horse showed a back rapidly getting worse, and both looked “mean” to a degree. Lawley being ill, he declined starting in the rain, and our host became more and more surly when we stated our intention of remaining with him. However, the sight of real gold instead of Confederate paper, or even greenbacks, soothed him wonderfully, and he furnished us with some breakfast. All this time M'Laws's division was passing the door; but so strict was the discipline, that the only man who loafed in was immediately pounced upon and carried away captive. At 2 P.M., the weather having become a little clearer, we made a start, but under very unpromising circumstances. Lawley was so ill that he could hardly ride; his horse was most unsafe, and had cast a shoe; — my animal was in such a miserable state that I had not the inhumanity to ride him; — but, by the assistance of his tail, I managed to struggle through the deep mud and wet. We soon became entangled with M'Laws's division, and reached the Potomac, a distance of nine miles and a half, at 5 P.M.; the river is both wide and deep, and in fording it (for which purpose I was obliged to mount) we couldn't keep our legs out of the water. The little town of Williamsport is on the opposite bank of the river, and we were now in Maryland. We had the mortification to learn that Generals Lee and Longstreet had quitted Williamsport this morning at 11 o'clock, and were therefore obliged to toil on to Hagerstown, six miles farther. This latter place is evidently by no means Rebel in its sentiments, for all the houses were shut up, and many apparently abandoned. The few natives that were about stared at the troops with sulky indifference.

After passing through Hagerstown, we could obtain no certain information of the whereabouts of the two generals, nor could we get any willing hospitality from any one; but at 9 P.M., our horses being quite exhausted, we forced ourselves into the house of a Dutchman, who became a little more civil at the sight of gold, although the assurance that we were English travellers, and not Rebels, had produced no effect. I had walked to-day, in mud and rain, seventeen miles, and I dared not take off my solitary pair of boots, because I knew I should never get them on again.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 239-41

Wilder Dwight to Elizabeth White Dwight, Saturday, July 13, 1861

in Camp, Martinsburg, Saturday, July 13, 1861.

Voici que nous sommes arrivés. I am in my tent, on the high ground, south of the town of Martinsburg. Our regiment is a part of what is called General Patterson's column, and we are on the advance post. It would have done your pride good to have seen us form the regiment, and start on our march from Hagerstown. My own responsible position, in rear of the column, led me to watch its progress, to return to give orders to the rear-guard and wagons, and, in general, to be lively. I am very well, and, though living under high pressure, getting my load along. At about half past six on Thursday afternoon we reached the bank of the Potomac, passing down from the high ground on which Doubleday's battery stood two weeks ago. We camped on the bank, without crossing the river. It was a long job getting the men into camp, and getting their supper into the men. At four the next (yesterday) morning we were up striking tents and getting breakfast. Then the battalion formed, and then came our first regular undress parade. At the command, the men prepared to ford the Potomac. In a few moments, the regiment was without its pantaloons. The vulgar prejudices of society, I am aware, are on the side of these appendages, but society does not cross the Potomac on foot in the freshness of the morning. The column moved forward in regular order. The band advanced into the stream playing a confident march, and so we passed the river gayly. Then came a long march, — thirteen miles. We were told that the enemy's cavalry were on the hills on the Virginia bank of the river, but we saw nothing of them, though the regiment marched with loaded muskets. The march was a new experience, — it was an interesting one. The morning was fresh and cool; the horses and wagons were our chief source of delay. One balky horse jumped up, leaped over the wheel-horses, fell, and hooked himself to the pole. He was left behind. One team spent a long time in the river. Still, at last, the train moved on. With frequent halts, we reached Martinsburg at three in the afternoon. We marched with music playing, and amid some attention of thousands of troops, to our camping-ground. Then we pitched our tents, and, in the midst of a violent thunder-storm, mounted our guns, got supper, and then I suppose you expect me to say went to bed. Not so, however, the Major. Instead of bed, which I desired, I went about in the pouring rain to visit sentinels, see that the men had supper, &c., &c.  At twelve o'clock I crept under cover. At five this morning, got up, put on wet boots, and went on duty again. To-day I have been attending drills, &c. I see clearly that there is no rest in this life. With care, I can keep well, I think, and I hope can do well for the men. But the care is a very great one. I have written this note in the midst of interruptions of every kind, and I have no more time now. We are under orders to move on Monday somewhither. We are in a beautiful country; everything here is new under the sun, or rather under the clouds. That, in itself, is spicy and cheering. In great haste.  . . . with much love to all.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 47-8

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: September 27, 1863

Left Hagerstown, leaving a detail for provost duty in town. Marched through Williamsport, wading the Potomac, over into Virginia, pushing along in our wet clothes over very rough roads. After a march of about ten miles, we reached the town, going into camp on the west side. Here we erected our camp and began duty. Provost guard in town, picket, and guard duty, drilling, dress parade. When off duty, allowed to visit town on a pass from the company commander.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 29

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: August 15, 1863

A field hospital and camp was established to the north on the Chambersburg road, about two miles from town. A fine location. Plenty of good, clear, running water. The change was not only good for us but very beneficial to all the prisoners, and they enjoyed it very much. Good air and grounds for them to walk about. A provost guard was on duty in town to preserve the peace and protect the town. We were on the alert all the time. Reports of cavalry raids from Virginia into Maryland caused us to turn out in the night and double the line of pickets on the road to Williamsport, near the ford crossing the Potomac. We have very pleasant recollections of Hagerstown. Nothing very serious happened while we were there. Some of the people were very strongly in sympathy with the South. The 4th Connecticut Regiment was at that town a year before we were. They left a good impression there and were well spoken of by the people. We became well acquainted in Hagerstown and vicinity. We traded with farmers coffee, sugar, and hardtack, for eggs, butter, and vegetables. We lived well at that place. All things come to an end. Marching orders received. The prisoners were ordered to be sent to Chambersburg, Penn. At this camp we conquered the army of the pedicules, and became free of the pest.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 28-9

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: July 24, 1863

Marching orders. Broke camp. After a short march, go into camp on high ground near the Potomac River. Plenty of water here where we could bathe and wash our clothes, hang them on the bushes and wait for them to dry. We also used the river water to drink and make coffee. The current ran very swift at this point.

(During my army life I drank, made coffee, fished, bathed, washed my clothes, waded through, its blue waters. When clear it was blue as one looked at it. When storms came it was yellow, the color of Virginia and Maryland mud.)

We only enjoyed our camp near the Potomac for a few days, when marching orders were received, to report at Hagerstown, Maryland, about ten miles from Sharpsburg, or about eight from our camp. At Hagerstown the Seminary and the grounds were used for a rebel prison and hospital, where we were to do guard and picket duty. Many of the poor fellows confined there died from wounds and disease. While the duty was not very laborious, it was not very pleasant. This is a fine section of Maryland, scenery fine. A large spring, walled in, in the center of the city, from which we obtained water. Quite a large number were confined here as prisoners of war. Here we also came in contact with an army of pedicules, which kept us very busy fighting them. Our boys claimed they bore on their backs the letters C. S. A., Confederate States America. The Seminary and grounds covered quite a tract of land. Our camp was placed as far as could be and still be on the grounds enclosed.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 27-8