Showing posts with label Newspaper Reports. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Newspaper Reports. Show all posts

Saturday, June 13, 2015

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: Monday Night, September 22, 1862

Probably the most desperate battle of the war was fought last Wednesday near Sharpsburg, Maryland. Great loss on both sides. The Yankees claim a great victory, while our men do the same. We were left in possession of the field on Wednesday night, and buried our dead on Thursday. Want of food and other stores compelled our generals to remove our forces to the Virginia side of the river, which they did on Thursday night, without molestation. This is all I can gather from the confused and contradictory accounts of the newspapers.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 156-7

Friday, June 12, 2015

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: Saturday, September 20, 1862

An official account in the morning's paper of the surrender of Harper's Ferry to our men on Sunday last. Colonel Miles, the Federal commander, surrendered, unconditionally, to General Jackson, 11,000 prisoners, 50 pieces of artillery, 12,000 stand of arms, ammunition, quartermaster and commissary stores in large quantities. McClellan attempted to come to the rescue of Harper's Ferry. A courier was captured, sent by him to Miles, imploring him to hold out until he could bring him reinforcements. General Lee ordered General D. H. Hill to keep McClellan in check, and, for this purpose, placed him on the road near Boonesborough. It is said that McClellan had a force of 80,000 men, and that General Hill, on Saturday and Sunday, kept him in check all day — General Longstreet getting up at night. Next day they attacked him, repulsed and drove him five miles. The details of the battle have not yet appeared. We have further rumours of fighting, but nothing definite. It is impossible for me to say how miserable we are about our dear boys.

The body of Brigadier-General Garland was brought to this, his native city, and his home, yesterday for interment. He was killed in the battle near Boonesborough. This event was a great shock to the community, where he was loved, admired, and respected. His funeral yesterday evening was attended by an immense concourse of mourning friends. It made my heart ache, as a soldier's funeral always does. I did not know him, but I know that he was “the only child of his mother, and she is a widow;” and I know, moreover, that the country cannot spare her chivalric sons.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 155-6

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Captain William D. Sedgwick to his Cousin, June 5, 1862

Headquarters Division,
Near Fair Oaks Station, June 5, 1862.
My dear cousin:

The General asks me to write you a short account of our recent battle, he himself being too much engrossed by the various occurrences constantly demanding his attention as commanding officer to find time to write you at sufficient length. I do it very gladly, for though it is so long since I have seen you that my recollections of you, though very pleasant, are somewhat vague, both my Aunt Catherine's great affection for you, and my own well-deserved affection for your brother the General, lead me to regard the writing to you as a very pleasant task. Saturday, about noon, a firing heavier, closer, and more sustained than that which we have been so long accustomed to hear roused us all. General Kearny, who had just stopped to make a call on the General, remounted his horse and galloped off in great haste to his own command. After the interchange of a few despatches from Heintzelman to Sumner, and Sumner to headquarters, we got under arms and marched as rapidly as possible, crossing the Chickahominy River and swamp over a bridge we had recently built, but which recent heavy rains had in great part carried away. To get through our artillery seemed impossible. Men went in up to their waists; horses floundered and fell down. Three pieces only of the leading one of our four batteries could be dragged through in time to assist in resisting the first attack that awaited us.

About four o'clock, having marched about three and one half miles over roads which, when not swamp, were all deep mud, we formed line in a bog and pushed forward on to the crest of a higher piece of ground. Our regiments were soon ranged on two sides of a rectangle facing two sides of a wood. The enemy, who had previously utterly routed Casey's division on the other side of the railroad track, driving them out of their camp and capturing many guns, advanced upon us along and through the woods, and came up in great numbers and with their best troops, including their boasted Texas Brigade and Hampton Legion, North and South Carolinians, Georgians, Mississippians, and Tennesseeans. By a little before five o'clock our whole lines were blazing, the enemy having come up to within one hundred and fifty, and in some instances, in their endeavour to take our artillery, which was doing savage execution, up to within twenty yards.

Their attack was so fierce that for a few moments we were uneasy lest our men should give way; but they held their ground as steadily as veterans and fired better than the enemy, whose attention was divided by a regard for protection of their own persons by the cover of the woods, from which, indeed, they rushed out several times, but only to fall back again. We have buried about two hundred of their dead and attended, say, one hundred of their wounded prisoners, besides capturing a considerable number. These prisoners say that Davis, Lee, Johnston, Magruder, and Floyd were all on the field near Fair Oaks Station, and had assured their troops of an easy victory. They had declared it impossible that we should succeed in crossing with any of our artillery. Magruder recognized his old battery, now commanded by Lieutenant Kirby and beautifully worked (all the pieces came up during the fight), and swore he would have it, but finally gave it up, saying, “All hell can't stand such a fire as that!” Some of the prisoners were much afraid that we would butcher them, but the greater number appeared to have learned that their newspaper accounts of our cruelties were lies, and had no fears. I have seen a good many terrible sights, bad wounds, mangled bodies, but I dare say you would not thank me for giving you any details. A regiment of another division fighting alongside of us captured an omnibus and some buggies in which some “ladies” of Richmond had driven out to see the Yankees whipped.

The next morning we expected the enemy to renew the attack with strong reinforcements, and were up after bivouacking under a tree. In the meantime Richardson's division, which followed us, and the remainder of our artillery had come up. They did not attack as early as we expected, and when they did (about half-past seven) Richardson's division bore the brunt of the fight, assisted by only a portion of General Sedgwick's command. This second battle was fought chiefly on our left, and, though very fierce, lasted but a few hours. We again drove them back, and since then they have appeared disinclined to make any general attack, though they “feel” us occasionally, but very cautiously.

Heavy rains since Sunday have rendered all the bridges below us impassable, and we have to depend upon the railroad bridge. We have now got up pretty much all our stores and effects by rail to Fair Oaks, and are ready for future developments. The ground, just now, is so universally wet and heavy that I should say no grand movement is likely to be made on either side. I need not tell you that the General rode into and through showers of bullets as imperturbably as if they were so many hailstones. Looking at him half persuaded me that there was no danger, though it seemed, now and then, as if our not being touched was almost equivalent to riding through a hail-storm without encountering a pellet. Our men behaved so well that the General and General Sumner expressed the highest satisfaction with them. Hereafter he will feel much of the same confidence in them which they so justly repose in him.

Hoping that I may have an opportunity to become reacquainted with you after this war is over,

I am, very sincerely,

Your affectionate cousin,
Wm. D. Sedgwick

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 57-62

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: July 1, 1863

The papers are full of the accounts of the advance of the Confederate army into Penna. I trust this army will not be guilty of the outrages which have everywhere characterized the Federal armies in Virginia. It is perhaps well that those who still keep up this terrible war should have some short experience of what war is. But this will not give it to them. The country would have to be overrun for two years before the Pennsylvanians could know what the Virginians know of war. Our town is so full of refugees, people who have fled from their homes, that I scarcely know anybody I meet. . . .

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 167-8

Monday, March 10, 2014

Major General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, January 23, 1863

CAMP NEAR FALMOUTH, VA., January 23, 1863.

I have not written to you for several days, for the reasons that I have had no opportunity, and that I was aware all letters from the camp were stopped in Washington, so that there was no use in writing. On the 19th, in the night, we received orders to move the next day. On the 20th, the whole army moved from their camp to a position four miles up the river, where crossing places had previously been selected. Everything went off very well up to about 8 P. M. of the 20th. The army reached its position. The pontoons, artillery and all other accessories were up in time, and we all thought the next morning the bridges would be thrown over and we should be at it. But man proposes and God disposes. About 9 P. M. a terrific storm of wind and rain set in and continued all night. At once I saw the game was up. The next day the roads were almost impassable; the pontoons, in attempting to get them to the water's edge, stuck on the bank, and a hundred men could not budge them. Instead of six bridges being thrown over by 8 A. M., it was found late in the day that the materials for one only could be got to the water's edge. Burnside visited us, and soon saw the state of the case. Still in hopes something might happen, he directed we should remain in position. All that night, the 21st, and the next day, the 22d, it continued to rain, and the roads to get into such a condition, that early yesterday, the 22d, I had to turn out the whole of my corps, fifteen thousand men, and go to work and bridge with logs, or corduroy, as it is called, nearly the whole road from our camp to the crossing place, eight miles. The men worked cheerfully at this, which was accomplished by early this morning, and Burnside having recalled the army to its old camp, we have been all day getting our artillery back, and to-morrow the infantry will return, thus consuming two days to get back, when it took only a few hours to get there. I never felt so disappointed and sorry for any one in my life as I did for Burnside. He really seems to have even the elements against him. I told him warmly, when I saw him, how sorry I felt, and that I had almost rather have lost a limb than that the storm should have occurred. He seemed quite philosophical, said he could not resist the elements and perhaps it was as well, for that his movement had been most strongly opposed and some of his generals had told him he was leading the men to a slaughter pen; and I am sorry to say there were many men, and among them generals high in command, who openly rejoiced at the storm and the obstacle it presented. We were very much amused to see in the papers to-day, flaming accounts of our crossing, of the battle, and of Hooker being mortally wounded. I hope you did not attach any importance to these absurd reports, which, when I saw, I feared you might have been anxious. I presumed the truth had been telegraphed and that you would know the storm had frustrated our plans. The plan was based on the presumption that we would take the enemy unawares, at least so far as the place of crossing was concerned, and I believe, but for the storm, we should have succeeded in this. What will be done now I cannot imagine, the mud is at present several feet thick wherever any wagons pass over a road, and if the weather from this time, should at all resemble that of last year, it will effectually stop all operations for two months to come.

I did not see George1 during our fiasco, though I was at one time bivouacked near a part of his regiment, but his company was not with that part.

Doubleday has been assigned to the Reserves, which is a good thing for me, for now they will think a great deal more of me than before.
__________

1 Son of General Meade.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 1, p. 348-9