Showing posts with label Hanover Junction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hanover Junction. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 3, 2024

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: Sunday, October 12, 1862

Relay House Station, on the Northern Central R. R. Just where that is I haven't yet found out. We stood up or laid down in the street from noon yesterday until 3 a. M. this morning, when cars came and we went on board. They are box cars, no seats, but they have a roof, and that is what we most needed. We shivered and shook so our teeth chattered when we first got on board, and it was 5 A. M. before the train started. We were no longer curious to know where we were going. We were wet, cold, hungry and thirsty, and from lying on the pavements were so stiff we could hardly get on our feet. The major had to give it up—his leg was hurt worse than he thought. We are sorry not to have him along, for next to Colonel Smith, he is the most soldierly soldier in the regiment. Our two days' rations are gone and we are wondering when we will get another feed.

Noon. We are at Hanover Junction, Pa. We now feel sure we are after the rebel horse thieves, but unless we get a faster move on than this, they will get away with all the horses in the country before we get there. We are waiting for further orders from General Wool. The 144th N. Y. just stopped here, on their way to Baltimore. They are just out, and to hear them complain about being kept on the cars a whole day and night made us laugh.

5 p.m. We are full once more. Doesn't seem as if we could ever get hungry again after the feed we have just had. We are at Hanover, Pa. As the train stopped it seemed as if the whole population were standing beside the track, and nearly everyone had a basket of eatables or a pail of coffee. Men, women and children were there and they seemed to enjoy seeing us eat, even urging us to eat more, after we had stuffed ourselves, and then told us to put the rest in our haversacks. But they are terribly scared at the near approach of the rebel cavalry. We told them to fear no more. We were there, and the memory of the feast we had had would make us their special defenders. They distributed tracts among us, some of them printed sermons, and wound up by asking us to join them in singing the long-meter doxology. We not only sang it, we shouted it; each one took his own key and time, and some, I for one,—got through in time to hear the last line from the others. We left them with cheers and blessings that drowned the noise of the train, and I prayed that if I ever got stranded it might be in Hanover.

GETTYSBURG, PA. Night. The train has stopped outside the village, and a citizen says the Rebs are just out of the village on the opposite side. It is pitch dark and the orders are to show no lights and to keep very still. I have a candle and am squatted in the corner of the car trying to keep my diary going.

The officers are parading up and down along the train trying to enforce the order to be quiet. I am hovering over my candle so it won't be seen, for I must write, for fear I won't get a better chance.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 48-50

Thursday, January 27, 2022

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: July 15, 1864

Clear and cool; subsequently cloudy.

The Washington Chronicle of the 12th, received yesterday, indicates that Washington or Baltimore, or both, were in danger of falling into our possession.

Lieut.-Col. G. W. Lay said, this morning, in my office, that Grant would not leave—that he held a most important position—that he would not fail in his campaign; that our operations beyond the Potomac were not of sufficient magnitude to produce important results; and, finally, that Germany and Ireland would replenish the armies of the United States, while our last reserves were now in the field.

The colonel had come into my office more than a month ago and said Grant had outgeneraled Pemberton, and would capture Vicksburg. I reminded him of this to-day, and asked his opinion on the present aspect of affairs. He has been recently on Gen. Beauregard's staff, and is irritated at the supposed hard treatment which that general receives from the President. He is a little bitter against the President, and is no special admirer of Lee, who, he thinks, committed a blunder in not fighting Grant at Hanover Junction. And he thinks, if Gen. Johnston forbears to fight Sherman, in pursuance of orders from Richmond, disaster will ensue. But neither he nor any one is capable of sounding the profound plans of Lee. Grant's forces are now far away from Washington.

2½ o'clock P.M. An officer just from Petersburg, arrived at the War Department with the intelligence that a Washington paper of the 13th inst. had been received at headquarters, announcing the capture of BALTIMORE by our troops! The inhabitants within, or a large proportion of them, co-operated with our army! Our people are in ecstasies! This is the realization of the grand conception of a great general, and Lee is immortalized if it only be true.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 248-9