Lieutenant Colonel Charles Fessenden Morse: July 31, 1864

Near Atlanta, July 31, 1864.

The evening of the 29th, I went on duty as Field Officer of the day of this brigade. After posting my picket and seeing that all was right, I lay down to take a little sleep.

I must now explain our position. The right of our brigade rests on the Chattanooga Railroad and connects with the left of the Fourteenth Corps; the picket line was about one hundred and fifty yards in advance of the line of works. The rebel rifle pits extended along a crest about two hundred and fifty yards in front of their works, which consist of strong redoubts connected by a heavy line of breastworks ; at a point about in front of the centre of my picket, the ridge rose into a prominent mound. It was swept by the guns of two forts and several batteries, and appeared to be untenable even if taken.

About half-past two A. M., on the 30th, I received an order to advance and take the rifle pits in my front, if possible, and then hold the position. I was told that the pickets on my right and left would advance with me and protect my flanks. My picket consisted of one hundred and sixty-one men and five officers. At a given signal, just at dawn, the whole line rose up and moved out of their little works; for fifty yards not a shot was fired, then the enemy discovered us and opened their fire. I gave the order, “Double-quick,” and in a moment we were upon them; in less than two minutes we had captured seventy-two prisoners, including four captains and three lieutenants. I caught one fellow by the collar as he was making off; he seemed almost frightened to death. Says he, “Don't kill me, — I surrender, I surrender.” I told him that I wouldn't kill him, but he must tell me truly if there was anything between the pits and the works. He said no, but that there were lots of men and guns in the works. On my left, the picket had come up well, refusing its left so as to connect with our old line. On my right, as I soon learned, the Fourteenth Corps picket, seeing that we were being peppered a good deal, thought they would stay where they were, so I had to bend my right away round to cover my flank. The mound was now ours; the question was, could we hold it? The instant that we were fully in possession, I set to work fortifying. The men were in high spirits, knowing that they had done a big thing, and I felt confident that they would fight well. In a very few minutes we had rails piled along our whole front, and bayonets and various other articles were in requisition for entrenching tools.

As soon as the rebels were fully aware of our proximity, and just as it was becoming fairly daylight, they opened on us along our front with musketry and artillery, throwing enough bullets, cannister and shell for a whole corps instead of an insignificant picket detail.

Work, of course, was now suspended. Our greatest annoyance was the fort, which mounted heavy guns, and these were so near that they seemed almost to blaze in our faces and were doing a great deal of damage. I ordered part of the men to fire into the embrasures. In less than five minutes, heavy doors were swung across the openings, and the fort closed up business for the day; the other batteries were out of sight, and kept up their fire. After about an hour of this kind of work, I found that I had lost a good many men, and the others were much exhausted. I sent off an orderly with the report that I must have reinforcements, if I was expected to hold my position. Word came back that I should have more men, and that General Thomas said that the position must be held. Shortly after, three companies reported to me, and about six A. M., the old “Second” came up.

All the men who could be spared from their muskets were kept at work digging, so that every minute we were becoming stronger, and the danger was growing less; still the artillery fire was terrible. At ten o'clock, Colonel Coggswell sent in word that his men could stand it no longer; they had fired over a hundred rounds of cartridges apiece; they were perfectly exhausted and must be relieved. The Thirteenth New Jersey came out and the Second went in; this regiment was under command of a captain, so that it came under my control. At eleven the fire began to decrease, and from then till two P. M., as the rebels found we were to hold on, it continued to subside. A little after two, an officer was sent out to relieve me. My loss was forty-nine killed and wounded, at least half having been hit by solid shot and shell.

I had a whole chapter of wonderful escapes. One shell burst within ten feet of me, throwing me flat by its concussion and covering me with dirt. As I was trying to eat a little breakfast, a rifle bullet struck the board on which was my plate, and sent things flying; but it seemed that my time to be hit had not come.

Our regiment lost three killed and seven wounded. George Thompson was slightly wounded by a piece of shell, nothing serious. The recruits behaved well, without exception.

The best news we have is that General Slocum is coming back to this corps.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 182-5

Major Charles Fessenden Morse: July 25, 1864

In The Trenches,

One And A Half Miles From Atlanta,

July 25, 1864.

Considerable has been accomplished since my last. On the 17th, I was on picket on the north bank of the Chattahoochie; late in the afternoon I was ordered to withdraw my line, as the army was moving to cross the river a few miles above. As my sentinels left, over the river bank, the rebels called out, “Have you got marching orders, Yanks? We are off at six.” I joined the brigade about ten that night, crossing on pontoons.

The next day, we marched to Peach Tree Creek, about four and a half miles from Atlanta, our second division securing a crossing. On the 20th, all of Thomas's army was over and in position fronting Atlanta. McPherson and Schofield, with the Fifteenth, Sixteenth, Seventeenth and Twenty-third Corps, by a flank movement, had crossed the Charleston Railroad and pushed up quite near Atlanta; about noon, our pickets and theirs connected. We were busily at work strengthening our position, when, without a word of preparation, the rebels in heavy force burst upon our picket line. Our brigade was in the second line. The first line advanced and breasted the shock in fine style. The fighting was quite severe till dark, when the enemy were repulsed and retired to their works. Our corps lost sixteen hundred killed and wounded, and buried five hundred and eighty-one rebels in front of its line. The loss in the regiment was trifling, —  Captain Sawyer severely wounded and three men not severely. Skirmishing continued throughout the 21st.

On the 22d the enemy retreated to their main line of works around Atlanta; we are now encircling them closely. The Macon Railroad is still in possession of the rebels, but it is the only one left to them. Operations now bear the character of a siege; there is constant cannonading going on from each side night and day, and consequently we have to stay in the trenches all the time. A few minutes ago a shell burst in the Third Wisconsin on our left, severely wounding three officers who were together in a tent. Just above us is a twenty-pound Parrott battery, which has fired, with hardly an intermission, for forty-eight hours; every shell is supposed to drop in the city. Since we have been here, there have been three or four assaults on our line, but they have all been repulsed without difficulty. We are now strong enough to resist anything.

I was told the following story, which was brought in by a citizen who lives in the outskirts of the city, in a fine house in plain sight of our line. He says that a few days before our arrival here, Davis, Johnston, Bragg, and other officers met at his house for consultation. After considerable talk, Davis expressed himself very much dissatisfied with Johnston for his constant retreats. Johnston said he had done what, in his opinion, was for the best; that he had brought off his army intact, but that he had not felt strong enough, at any time, to offer or accept battles; in conclusion, he said that if the President thought there was any officer who could manage his army better than he could, he would at once tender his resignation. Upon this, Johnston was relieved and the command offered to Hardee; he declined the honor, saying that he had perfect confidence in Johnston, and if, in his (Johnston's) opinion, Atlanta couldn't be held, he was bound to agree with him. The army was then offered to Hood, who jumped at it and said he would have Sherman on his way north in twenty-four hours. Hood believes in fighting, and has probably lost ten thousand men since he assumed command; but, as yet, we continue to look towards the Gulf.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 180-2

Major Charles Fessenden Morse: July 9, 1864

Near Vining's Station, Ga.,

July 9, 1864.

The 2d of July, Saturday, I was Field Officer of the day, and had charge of the brigade picket. That night I received notice that the enemy were expected to leave very soon, and to watch them closely. I went out to the picket line, intending to stay there till morning; the night was pretty dark, and though only about three hundred yards of open field lay between our line and the rebels', yet nothing could be seen at that distance. Occasionally, shots were fired. At one in the morning I ordered three men and a corporal, whom I knew to be cool, brave men, to crawl up within a few yards of the nearest rebel picket post, if possible, and see if they were still there. In about an hour they returned, and reported that they had been near enough to hear the enemy talking, and had been fired upon twice; however, from general appearances, I made up my mind that they were going, and so reported.

At a little before daylight, the whole picket line was ordered forward. We advanced and got into the enemy's works without opposition, taking quite a number of prisoners. These works were the most formidable I have yet seen, — more of the nature of permanent fortifications than ordinary field works. The breastworks were of the strongest kind; then about ten yards in front was a chevaux de frise of a double row of pointed rails, and in front of this, an almost impenetrable abattis about one hundred yards wide.

I got into Marietta among the first with my skirmishers. I found it to be a beautiful place, though now almost deserted by its inhabitants. We drove out the rear guard of cavalry and artillery; among them could be seen numbers of citizens, men and women, running off like fools, leaving their property to be destroyed. For the first time in the South, I saw here pretty, neat country places, like those of Jamaica Plain and Brookline, with green lawns and hedges, and ornamental shrubs and trees about them; the houses appeared to be well furnished, but I suppose before this, the riff-raff of the army has rifled them of all worth taking. The Military Academy was a fine building, with gymnasium, etc., about it; it has been converted into a hospital. By sunrise the whole army was moving and on the heels of Johnston. We were right on him when he got into another of his lines of works. My skirmishers took about fifty prisoners; judging from that, the army must have taken at least one or two thousand.

July 4th, nothing occurred except a few changes of position. On the morning of the 5th, the enemy were gone from our front; we followed them up, and found them in their next line, about three miles off.

From one part of our line I had a distant view of Atlanta, the spires and towers rising in plain sight above the everlasting forests, which seemed to extend without a break, excepting an occasional corn-field, from Tullahoma to this place. We are now in front of the rebel position, their two flanks resting on the Chattahoochie, as do ours. We are told that we shall be here a few days, so I suppose there can be no obstacle to the enemy crossing the river whenever they want to do so. In my limited sphere of observation, I can give you for facts only what I see; the causes are all beyond me, as I know nothing of any movements beyond our own corps.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 173-5

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: September 12, 1864

Cold cloudy morning. Ordered to the east side of the town, to make camp. Shelter tents put up. Picket line established out near the Shenandoah River. The fords must be guarded. Must keep a sharp lookout for Mosby and his guerillas. They know every foot of this country and all the fording places, so it is reported to us. A cold rain has come. I am detailed for picket. Have charge of the outpost, near the river. Captain Tiffany in command of our regiment. The town and vicinity in command of our Brigade Commander, Colonel Rodgers, 2d Maryland Regiment. Many army wagons are parked here.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 124

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Thursday, March 10, 1864

A lovely morning with a gentle south breeze; formed line at 9 a. m. for picket. Captain H. R. Steele in command of the detail from our brigade; commenced raining about 11 a. m. and continued all day. Our regiment is on the reserve. Lieutenant-Colonel Egbert of the Third Brigade, a fine man, is officer of the day.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 25

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Monday, February 29, 1864

Am feeling better this morning; weather gloomy; chilly south wind; considerable cannonading to-day towards Madison Court House; reported General Kilpatrick has captured a portion of Lee's picket line and penetrated to Orange Court House; pickets ordered to be vigilant, etc.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 22

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: August 31, 1864

Camp in the woods. Called up very early. Our regiment detailed for picket duty. We advance towards the west, near Smithfield and the Opequon Creek. A strong picket line maintained. While everything is quiet with us, must keep a good lookout. Cannot tell what an hour may bring forth. We have been in the service for over two years on this the last day in August.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 119

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Saturday, February 6, 1864

I was awoke at 5 a. m. by the long roll; was soon directed to report to Col. A. B. Jewett's headquarters and ordered to break camp and march for the Rapidan, which is no pleasant thing to do at this season; were ordered to march at 7 a. m. but didn't till near 4 p. m.; marched to the picket line and bivouacked; has rained some all day but not hard; considerable firing towards night at Jacob's ford.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 16

Major-General John A. Dix to Major General Henry W. Halleck, April 19, 1863

FORT MONROE, VA., April 19, 1863.

I deem it due to the forces at Suffolk to notice briefly their gallant conduct during the last six days. On Tuesday General Peck's right was attacked and the enemy's advance was gallantly met by Colonel Foster's light troops, driving him back to the line of his pickets; Anderson's division was engaged at the same time on the water front with our gunboats and batteries, and suffered materially. On Wednesday a rebel battery of 20-pounder rifled guns was effectually silenced, and an attack on the Smith Briggs, an armed quartermaster's boat, was repulsed. Repeated attempts have been made on our lines but have all been foiled. The storming of the enemy's battery near the West Branch of the Nansemond by General Getty and the gunboats under Lieutenant Lamson of the Navy, and the capture of six guns and 200 prisoners closes the operations of the six days against the enemy's large force very satisfactory.

 JOHN A. DIX,

Major-General.

Maj. Gen. H. W. HALLECK,

General-in-Chief.

SOURCES: Morgan Dix, Memoirs of John Adams Dix, Volume 2, p. 56; The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 18 (Serial No. 26), p. 268

Major Wilder Dwight: Friday Evening, October 25, 1861

Camp Near Conrad's Ferry, October 25,

Friday Evening.

I shall try to send you some, pictures, though I am too tired to-night for anything but sleep.

Scene, our old camp; time, evening. The regiment just getting into marching array under crisp starlight. The men gay with singing and laughter. The camp one huge bonfire of old bedding and tent-floors. Every man in fine marching condition. Again: Scene, the bank of the canal at Conrad's Ferry; time, eight o'clock the next morning. The regiment huddled in dripping groups, under a driving rain. The men tired and silent. Ambulances of wounded men passing by. Blankets swung on poles, covering the bodies of the slain, and borne along with that heavy, dull tread which betokens the presence of death. Jaded stragglers from the river hurrying back, cold and half naked, to their camps; the interchange of greetings and tidings. The Colonel and other field-officers huddled under an apple tree, breakfasting upon a hard-boiled egg, and shivering over a feeble fire, questioning stragglers about the fight. Up comes a Yankee-looking fellow, clad only in an overcoat, with that peculiar hunched-up movement which indicates shuddering cold. Dialogue between Colonel Gordon and Yankee. Colonel G. Where do you come from? Y. The river. G. What regiment? Y. Massachusetts Fifteenth. G. Did you fight? Y. Wal, I guess we did some. G. How many times did you fire? Y. Thirty or forty. G. What did you do during the day? Y. Wal, at first we was skirmishing along, and I got behind a tree, and I was doing first rate. I come out once, but I see a feller sightin' at me, and so I got in again suddin. Then, arter a while, the cavalry came down on us. I see there wa'n't much chance, and so I just dropped into a hole there was there, and stayed still. Pretty soon we retreated towards the river. We got together there, and formed a kind of a line, and then the fitin' really began. Some fellers came out near us, and says they, “We 're Colonel Baker's men.” “Guess not,” says I. “Yes we are,” says they. “I know better,” says I. “Let 'er rip, boys!” and we fired on 'em. But 't wa'n't no kind o' use. Baker got killed, and we couldn't see the enemy, and they raked us like death. I finally come down the bank with the rest on 'em. I see Colonel Devens there. Says I, “Colonel, wot's to be done now?” “Boys,” says he, “you must take care of yourselves.” “All right, Colonel,” says I. And the way my 'couterments come off was a caution. I swum the river. But I tell you there was a sight on 'em didn't get across.” G. Do you want to go back again? Y. Wal, not till I get rested. G. You 're cold, ain't you? Y. I tell you, I just am. G. Don't you want some whiskey? Y. Don't I? (Yankee takes a pull at the Colonel's flask, and expresses himself only by a long, silent, intensely meaning wink.) Yankee then turns and sees a shivering figure approaching. “Hullo, John; I never expected to see you again. Wal, I guess we'd better go to camp,” and off he moves. The drollery of the scene I cannot give. I just indicate an outline of the cool, circumstantial narratives that every other man would give you. We found none so amusing as this, which relieved our tedious breakfast. But the men showed no fear, and, only by an occasional allusion, any sense of the terrors through which some of them had passed. Their only idea seemed to be, If there only had been more of us, how we would have licked 'em! All accounts agree that the two Massachusetts regiments fought splendidly, as far as individual daring and coolness go.

I sent you off a letter yesterday; for I must continue my story without a formal introduction of each picture. I mailed the letter with the ink wet upon it, and went off on my duty to the river, to take charge of my picket-line along the canal. But as tattoo is now beating, and as I put on my clothes in Washington on Monday morning and have not yet taken them off this Friday night, I will tell the rest of my story to-morrow.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 123-4

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Wednesday, January 6, 1864

Chilly and cloudy but the weather is moderating very fast; got cheated out of my breakfast this morning on account of going on picket; formed line at 7.45 and so remained till nearly 10 a. m. when the officer of the day came and started us for the picket line; got on the wrong road and did not find the line until 3 p. m. It has been quite pleasant all day, but looks likely to storm before morning. No mail to-day.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 4

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, December 14, 1864

December 14, 1864

General Winthrop [in speaking of Warren's operations] said his brigade bivouacked in a cornfield; it blew, snowed and sleeted all night, and when reveille beat in the morning, you could only see what seemed a field full of dead bodies, each covered with a rubber blanket and encased with ice. Some of the men had to kick and struggle, they were so hard frozen down. Yet, despite this, I have not learned that it has caused much sickness. How would you like to carry forty or fifty pounds all day, be wet through, have your feet soaked with mud and snow-water, and then go to sleep in a cornfield, with a drifting sleet coming down on you all night? This is what twenty-five thousand men did, for more than one night, on that expedition. This is what our poor slovenly ragamuffins can do; and this it is to be a good soldier. The Rebels are still tougher, if anything. Being still in love with the new picket line, which has been established in our rear, I again went down what is called the Church road, until I struck the infantry pickets, near a Colonel Wyatt's house. This once was a well-to-do establishment. The house is large and a huge cornfield testifies that he (or our cavalry) had gathered a good harvest that very year. There were the usual outbuildings of a well-to-do southern farmer: little log barns, negro huts, and odd things that might be large hencoops or small pigstyes. The Virginians have a great passion for putting up a great lot of diminutive structures as a kind of foil to the main building, which, on the contrary, they like to have as extensive as possible; just as the old painters added importance to a big saint by making a number of very small devotees, kneeling below him. A stout old gent, in a shocking bad beaver, who was walking about in the back yard was, I presume, the distinguished Colonel. Having stared at the house and been in turn stared at by a pretty little girl who threw up a window, to have a more clear view of the Yank, I went, still along the Church road, till I got to the Weldon road.

A picket line is always one of the most picturesque sights in an army, when it runs through woods and fields. You know it consists of a string of “posts,” each of half a dozen men, or so, and, in front of these, a chain of sentries who are constantly on the alert. The squads of men make to themselves a gipsy bough-house in front of which they make a fire in cool weather. They must always have their belts on and be ready to fight at a moment's notice. In the woods, you follow along from one rustic shelter to another, and see the sentries, out in front, each standing behind a good tree and keeping a sharp lookout for Rebel scouts, bushwhackers and cavalry. A short distance in the rear you from time to time come on a “reserve,” which is a large body, perhaps of fifty or a hundred, who are concealed and who are ready to come to the assistance of the posts, if they are attacked. Picket duty is, of all others, that which requires most individual intelligence in the soldiers. A picket line, judiciously posted, in woods or swamps, will oppose a formidable resistance, even to a line of battle. There was careful Mr. Corps, officer of the day, with his crimson scarf across his shoulder, inspecting his outposts and reserves; each one falling in as he came along and standing at a shoulder.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 300-2

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, November 30, 1864

November 30, 1864

Did you hear how the Hon. Nesmith, whom I have mentioned, discovered the real cause of the defeat at the first Bull Run? He was in Washington at the time, and the military wiseacres, as soon as they got over the scare, were prolific in disquisitions on the topic. One evening Nesmith found a lot of them very verbose over a lot of maps and books. They talked wisely of flank movements and changes of front, and how we should have won a great victory if we had only done so and so; when he remarked solemnly: “Gentlemen, I have studied this matter and I have discovered the real reason of our defeat.” They were all ears to hear. “Well,” said Nesmith with immense gravity, “well, it was them darned Rebels!” . . .

Last night the 2d Corps picket line was relieved by the 9th — a delicate job in face of the enemy, who are pretty close up; but it all was done in entire quiet, to the relief of General Humphreys, who feels the new honor of the 2d Corps. That worthy officer stopped on his way to his new Headquarters and honored me by taking a piece of your plum cake. He was much tried by the noisy ways of Hancock's late Headquarters. “They whistle of mornings,” said the fidgety little General, “and that Shaw, confound the fellow, amuses himself with imitating all the bugle-calls! Then the negroes turn out at four in the morning and chop wood, so that I am regularly waked up. But I shall stop it, I can tell you.” And I have no doubt he will, as he is wont to have his own way or know the reason why. I rode out with him to his new Headquarters and followed the line afterwards, and was much amused to see them drilling some of the worthless German recruits, in a polyglot style: “Steady there! Mehr heraus — more to the front. Shoulder arms! Eins, zwei! One, two!” etc.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 284-5

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, Friday, October 7, 1864

October 7, 1864

There is a certain General Benham, who commands the engineers at City Point, and was up about laying out some works. Channing Clapp is on his Staff. You ought to see this “Ginral.” He has the face and figure of Mr. Briggs and wears continually the expression of Mr. B. when his horse sat down at the band of music. When he had got through all the explanations, which were sufficient to have laid out a permanent work of the first class, the Meade rose with weariness, and eased his spirit by riding out and looking at my new camp-ground, and inspecting those everlasting redoubts. Now that the camp is arranged, the Meade is dubious about moving: that's like him! When we got to the extreme left, he thought he would go out and take a peek at the picket line. First there was a little bunch of cavalry. They were of a jocose turn; they had found an old pair of wheels whereon they had mounted a keg, making a very good cannon, which pointed, in a threatening manner, down the road. Its ensemble was completed by a figure, closely resembling those that defend cornfields, and which was keeping steady guard with a small pole. A hundred yards beyond was the picket reserve, behind a barricade. Then, beyond, a couple of hundred yards more, the sentries, each standing and looking sharply to the front. The one in the road was a half-breed Indian, though he looked more like a Neapolitan. He had that taciturnity that clings to the last drop of blood. “Are you a picket here?” asked the General. “Yes.” “Is there anyone on your right and left?” “No.” “You are an Indian, are you not?” “Part.” All of which the red warrior delivered, without turning his gaze from the vista before him. Beyond this gentleman was a post of two cavalry videttes. From this place we could get a very good view of one of the Rebel lines of earthworks; but there seemed very few men behind it. I could only notice one or two. And so we rode back again past the perils of the keg cannon. General Warren has a short leave, and General Crawford commands the Corps, to the indignation, I presume, of old cocks like Griffin and Ayres; for C. was doctor in Fort Sumter, and thus got a star, and thus is an old brigadier, and thus ranks the regulars G. and A. General Grant was on a flying visit to Washington to-day. I like to have him down here: first, he gives a general balance and steadiness; then, what is most important, he can order — just order what groceries he pleases, and no questions asked behind the counter!

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 241-3

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, June 25, 1864

I can only say that I have “sweltered” to-day — that is the word; not only has it been remarkably broiling, but this region is so beclouded with dust and smoke of burning forests, and so unrelieved by any green grass, or water, that the heat is doubled. We have had no drop of rain for twenty days, and but a stray shower for over a month. It is hardly necessary to say that neither army is what it was: the loss of a large proportion of the best officers, the nervous prostration of the men, the immense destruction of life, all tend to injure the morale and discipline and skill of both parties. As to the next step, I do not know; Grant is as calm and as apparently sure as ever. I have got from the region of fighting now, to the realm of lying idle, and it will not be so easy to fill a daily sheet. General Meade asked me to show the Gauls somewhat about; so I clapped them on their two horses, which they had from General Grant, and took them by easy stages to General Wright near by. The good General was comfortably in the woods. I say comfortably, because everything is relative. I mean he had his tents pitched and had iced water, two important elements. He speaks no French — De Chanal no English — so they smiled sweetly at each other. Old D. C. ought to be ashamed of himself. He married an American wife, but, like a true Gaul, utterly refused to learn a word of English. It is ever a part of a Frenchman's religion to speak no language but his own. Little grasshopper Guzman chirped away and made up for two. Then Colonel Kent rode out with us, as a matter of politeness (for I knew that part of the line as well as he), and we showed them how our men made breastworks of rails, logs, and earth; how they lived and cooked; and all sorts of things. After which I took them out towards the picket line and showed them the country, and a tract of dense, young pines, through which our men advanced in double lines — a feat which I can never understand, but which is performed nevertheless. By this time, both distinguished foreigners being powdered a. la marquise, I took them home, only showing them, before coming in, one more thing, only too characteristic of our war — the peculiar graves of our soldiers, marked each by a piece of cracker-box, with the man's name in pencil, or hastily cut with a knife. I recollect sitting on the high bank of the Rapid Ann, at Germanna Ford, and watching the 5th and 6th Corps as they marched up from the pontoon bridges; and I remember thinking how strange it would be if each man who was destined to fall in the campaign had some large badge on! There would have been Generals Sedgwick, Wadsworth, and Rice, and what crowds of subordinate officers and of privates, all marching gaily along, unconscious, happily, of their fate.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 178-80

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Sturgis Russell*, May 16, 1863

Camp E. Of Capitol, Washington, D. C.

May 16, '63.

Started precisely at 12 M. Tuesday (427 men and officers, 437 horses), reached boat at 5 P. M. (start earlier and feed on pier): boat too small for so many horses, delay in loading, finally started from wharf at ½ A. M. Wednesday — reached Jersey City at 9 A. M. — terrible confusion watering and loading horses, did not leave by train till 5 P. M.: lost ten men here: had to handle all our own baggage here, as also the night before at Stonington. Reached Camden (opposite Philadelphia) at 1 A. M., Thursday; waited two hours while R. R. men handled baggage and transshipped horses, crossed to Philadelphia by ferry, got an excellent breakfast at the Volunteer Relief Rooms;¹ left by train at 6 A. M., arrangements excellent. Reached Baltimore at 3 P. M., horses and baggage dragged through city without transshipment; gave men coffee and dinner at Union Relief Rooms (164 Eutaw St., close to Depot). Left Baltimore at 5 P. M. and, after much delay, arrived in Washington at 2 A. M. Friday — breakfast ready for men at barracks near Depot; immediately-after, commenced unloading horses and traps, and at 9 A. M. had horses fed and watered and on picket lines (saddles, &c, by them and company and Quartermaster property in wagons); at 12 M. started for camp, which I selected, and before 6 P. M. officers and men were all in tents, and horses all at permanent lines, — total loss 11 deserters and 1 dead horse,—gain 6 horses! On the whole I recommend this route highly.

I had a very strong guard detailed (70 men and officers) and kept it on duty for the trip — every door (to cars and yards) was guarded before the command entered.

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* Captain Henry S. Russell, of the Second Massachusetts Infantry, had been detailed to help in preparing for the field the Second Cavalry, of which he was to be second in command. He had been left behind to secure and forward recruits to the regiment. I copy the following from Mr. John M. Forbes's Reminiscences: “Harry had distinguished himself in the Second Infantry, under Gordon, as a good soldier, reaching the rank of captain, and then had suffered himself to be captured at the battle of Cedar Mountain, under Banks, where he stood by his mortally wounded friend James Savage, and passed some months in prison.  . . . He left the Second Massachusetts Cavalry, where he was lieutenant-colonel, to recruit the Fifth (coloured) Cavalry, as colonel. This regiment got its first impetus from a telegram which I received one day, when on a visit to Washington, from Governor Andrew, directing me to see Secretary Stanton, and apply for leave to recruit a regiment of coloured cavalry. It was a time when recruiting was beginning to flag, and, taking the message in my pocket, I soon got access to the Secretary, with whom I was always on good terms, and within five minutes of showing the message leave was given to go ahead; and Harry gave up his easier place of lieutenant-colonel in a splendid white regiment to build up the Fifth Massachusetts Cavalry (coloured), which, however, was destined to do most of its work unmounted.” Colonel Russell was wounded, but survived the war. A man of courage and decision, and with a natural dignity and military habit in dealing with men, he was singularly kind and modest. He served the city of Boston to much purpose and with honourable fidelity, first as Commissioner of Police, and later of the Fire Department, for many years.

¹ The bounteous hospitality extended to all regiments and soldiers passing through this city, by the Philadelphia Volunteer Relief Association during the war, is held in grateful remembrance.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 239-40, 416-7

Diary of Private Alexander G. Downing: Saturday, January 16, 1864

The weather has been warm and pleasant for a week. We have our regular daily drills and dress parade. It came my turn to go on the picket line again. The Thirteenth Iowa received their muster rolls, and when they are filled out, the regiment will be sworn into the United States service as a veteran regiment.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 163

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: May 9, 1864

Nothing important has transpired since the last date. Our regiment was kept on the advance picket line. Orders to march. The army again on the march. Pushing on up the valley. Getting farther from our base of supplies as we march over the old pike where we have marched before, while doing scouting duty. Our cavalry on the advance are continually skirmishing with the enemy's cavalry who try to contest every mile as our advance pushes on. Marched through Newtown and Middletown. Hot dusty marching. Much suffering from the extreme heat. Every time we halt, run for water. Many good springs in this section. Once in a while we find a sulphur spring. Don't like the taste of it but are obliged to drink it in order to quench our thirst. I am in the best of health. Rugged enough for this kind of life. Thankful that I am so well. Our advance are continually skirmishing with the enemy. Sometimes it sounds as though there was a hot time. We are looking for a battle as we advance. Notice and talk about the points of interest as we go marching on. Fine country is this Shenandoah Valley. Blue Ridge Mountains on our left. Came to a halt on the north bank of Cedar Creek, about three miles from the town of Strasburg. Make camp here for the night. Pleased when we halt for the night.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 57-8

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: April 12, 1864

Nothing important has taken place. Our regular routine of duty goes on from day to day. A strong picket guard is kept up owing to the guerillas in these mountains. Mosby is the chief among them. This seems to be the rainy season, judging by the way it comes down. Mud, mud, sticky Virginia mud. At every step one must lift a load of it, as it sticks to our army shoes. It helps to add misery to our camp life. Well, we are Uncle Sam's soldiers, doing our duty from day to day.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 52

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, October 26, 1863

Headquarters Army Of Potomac

October 26, 1863

Ah! we are a doleful set of papas here. Said General Meade: “I do wish the Administration would get mad with me, and relieve me; I am sure I keep telling them, if they don't feel satisfied with me, to relieve me; then I could go home and see my family in Philadelphia.” I believe there never was a man so utterly without common ambition and, at the same time, so Spartan and conscientious in everything he does. He is always stirring up somebody. This morning it was the cavalry picket line, which extends for miles, and which he declared was ridiculously placed. But, by worrying, and flaring out unexpectedly on various officers, he does manage to have things pretty ship-shape; so that an officer of Lee's Staff, when here the other day, said: “Meade's move can't be beat.” Did I tell you that Lee passed through Warrenton and passed a night. He was received with bouquets and great joy.  . . . The last three nights have been cool, almost cold, with some wind, so that they have been piling up the biggest kind of camp-fires. You would laugh to see me in bed! First, I spread an india-rubber blanket on the ground, on which is laid a cork mattress, which is a sort of pad, about an inch thick, which you can roll up small for packing. On this comes a big coat, and then I retire, in flannel shirt and drawers, and cover myself, head and all, with three blankets, laying my pate on a greatcoat folded, with a little india-rubber pillow on top; and so I sleep very well, though the surface is rather hard and lumpy. I have not much to tell you of yesterday, which was a quiet Sunday. Many officers went to hear the Rebs preach, but I don't believe in the varmint. They ingeniously prayed for “all established magistrates”; though, had we not been there, they would have roared for the safety of Jeff Davis and Bob Lee! . . .

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 38-9