Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Friday, November 25, 1864

Our brigade marched out early this morning and relieved the First Brigade at the railroad bridge across the Oconee river, the rebels being just beyond. We burned the bridge and after waiting there a short time, got orders to march back to Toomsboro, which place we reached by 7 p. m. From there we started for Hawkins Ford, some ten miles distant, and after marching six miles went into bivouac. The Fitteenth Corps came in on the same road in order to cross the river by our pontoon bridge, which the engineers commenced to build late in the evening, after our men had driven the rebels from the river — they had to leave or be taken prisoners.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 231-2

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Friday, November 18, 1864

We were on the road by 8 o'clock and after marching ten miles, lay by until 10 p. m., when we were ordered to fall in again. After an hour's march we came to the Ockmulgee river, which we crossed by pontoons at Ockmulgee Mills. The entire Seventeenth Corps came together again here and at 1 o'clock in the night we went into bivouac on the east side of the river. The Fifteenth Corps crossed the river by the same pontoon bridge. There is fine water power here and there are large mills. The country is very rough.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 229-30

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Saturday, October 29, 1864

We were routed out at 2 o'clock this morning and at daybreak took up our march. We covered fifteen miles and went into bivouac near Spring creek. We reached Cedar Bluffs by 10 o'clock, where the Fifteenth Army Corps passed us, turning on a road to the right. About noon we crossed the Coosa river on a pontoon bridge and marched all the afternoon through a miserable swamp. The country is heavily timbered with white oak, and is thinly settled.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 225

Captain Richard F. Halstead to Miss Sedgwick, May 13, 1863

Headquarters 6th Corps,

Camp Near White Oak Church,

May 13, 1863.

My dear Miss Sedgwick:

The General has just informed me that you were quite anxious to learn some of the particulars of our late movement on the other side of the Rappahannock, and asked me if I would like to make the attempt to give you an idea of what the 6th Corps had done. I am sure that I feel a great pleasure in doing anything I can to give you all that I know, but I am also sure that, however hearty my efforts may be, I shall fall far short of reality, very far short, I fear, of making the matter interesting. It requires one of two things to be able to do this well, neither of which do I possess, namely, long experience or genius. I am neither a Russell nor a Smalley. Do you remember the latter's remarkable description of the battle of Antietam, published in the “Tribune,” and so very extensively copied?

When this late campaign began the General — I mean your brother — had quite a little army under his command. General Hooker sent about four corps to cross the river at United States Ford, leaving the General in command of three corps, the 1st, 3rd, and his own, amounting to about fifty thousand men. The general plan was that we, i.e., these three corps under the General, should make a strong demonstration just below Fredericksburg, at and below the place where Franklin made his crossing under Burnside, while Hooker was to make the main attack, if possible, on their rear and left flank. Our action depended entirely on the movements of the enemy. He might force us to convert our feigned attack into a real one, and for this reason a strong force was left here. The previous movements of our cavalry under Stoneman were, as you will have already learned from the newspapers, to prepare for the total defeat of the army under Lee by cutting or interrupting his communications.

It was, I think, on the 28th of April (dates have been so confused in my mind lately that I shall have to trust to you to make obvious corrections) that the order — the final order — to move came to us. Generals Sickles (3rd Corps) and Reynolds (1st) were to report to the General. It was a dismally rainy day. One large brigade, known as the “Light Division,” was sent to the pontoon train to carry the boats about two miles to the bank of the river, a most fatiguing and, some of us thought, a very unnecessary proceeding.

The ground on this side of the river is for about a third of a mile a perfect flat, evidently an old water bottom. Then comes a range of low hills, cut here and there by ravines — just the ground in and by which to conceal large numbers of men. Behind and quite near were woods, in and behind which the corps encamped the first night. The pontoon train was moved up as far by the teams as was safe from observation by the enemy. Luckily there was something of a fog, which increased as night came on. At eleven P.M. the men detailed for the purpose were to begin carrying the pontoons to the place of crossing. At a given point other men from General Brooks's division (the 1st of our corps) were to meet the boats in parties of sixty to each boat, to cross the river and take possession of the opposite bank. I do not know how many men it required to carry each boat; it was so dark I could not see, although many times close to them. I should think not less than twenty-five. Poor devils! they had a hard task. The approach to the river was very slow. Before daylight about twenty boats had been placed in the water. Everything on the other side was perfectly quiet; nothing unusual was observed. The fog was quite dense, but before the boats began to arrive the enemy's pickets were occasionally heard talking among themselves or singing. The boats were carried with as little noise as possible, but the distance to the other side — about four hundred feet — was too small to prevent some noise being heard. At the last, however, it became useless to attempt a longer concealment of the mere noise. Then matters were rushed through with a will. All this time the dense fog continued. Finally, at the first dawn of light, the boats, about fifteen in number, I think, — I could not see them well enough to count them, — were manned by the engineer soldiers who were to row them and were filled by the designated troops, which were of General Russell's brigade, and, as nearly as possible, they all pushed off together. Not a sound was heard from the other side. Officers on our side and some in the boats were giving orders and directions in loud tones. The boats moved on in the dim light, and in a very few seconds faded away into faint, uncertain shadows. We could hear the oars, we could even hear the beaching of the boats on the opposite bank; the noise became a little fainter, and we felt sure that they must have landed; another moment of suspense, and then there shone out through the fog just one bright spark of fire, followed instantly by the report of a musket, and then succeeded a volley, a rattling volley, from about a regiment of men in the rifle-pits near the bank. But their firing was wild. The most of the bullets came whistling over the heads of the men on the bluff on this side, not less than fifty feet above the level of the water. Very few men in the boats were injured, one killed and eight wounded. After the, first volley by the enemy there was no further interference with our possession of the position occupied. The boats were at once brought back, refilled with men, and sent to the other side, until two brigades were on that bank. Then the work of constructing two bridges was at once begun. Artillery was posted on this side in such manner as to support the troops thrown over. The bridges being completed, the rest of General Brooks's division passed over and strengthened their position as soon as possible by means of rifle-pits.

Meanwhile General Reynolds, who was to effect a crossing about half a mile below, had been unsuccessful in making lodgment on the south bank. I think that it was not till the afternoon that he effected his purpose, with a loss considerably heavier than at the crossing of the 6th Corps. He also began to put himself in a position to hold the ground, and by his making rifle-pits finally drew upon himself the fire from a strong, well-posted battery within good range. To this fire our heavy batteries on this side replied, though without apparent effect, the distance being too great. General Reynolds lost a few men, less than half a dozen, I think, by this fire.

Having effected our lodgment on that side of the river, and finding that the enemy was disposed not to try to drive us back, General Hooker took from us the 3rd Corps, and the following day, if I remember rightly, ordered General Reynolds also to join him near Chancellorsville. This left the 6th Corps alone in its glory. Reynolds's bridges were taken up, and we awaited orders. These came to us so irregularly from defects in the telegraph that it was impossible to execute some of them. General Brooks's men had made themselves comfortable on the other side. His skirmishers were within little more than pistol-shot of those of the enemy. Their line of battle was distinctly visible in the line of the railroad, and the only disposition they had shown to be at all disagreeable was by a harmless artillery fire at intervals, entirely unprovoked on our part.

Lying thus in suspense, an order came to us to pursue the enemy on the Bowling Green Road (south from Fredericksburg), that they were flying, routed to Richmond. Then came another order to march to Chancellorsville, to unite with Hooker, crushing and destroying any force which we might find opposed to us. This was Saturday night. At about one o'clock A.M. the head of the column was in motion toward Fredericksburg. We had information from Butterfield, Hooker's Chief of Staff, that there were but three regiments in front of us, in the works on the heights. The road was bad for artillery, and our progress was slow. At daybreak the head of the column was halted at the entrance to the town, General Newton not wishing to run the risk of anything like a panic through a surprise. About sunrise the General and his staff came up to where the first troops were halted. There had been, I should have said, some skirmishing nearly all the way to the town, losses not large. A movement upon the enemy's works was at once ordered. The regiments sent up could not see a sign of a rebel. They were quite near the first line of works when they were saluted by a heavy musketry and artillery fire, and repulsed; i.e., they did not gain the works, but they remained on the ground, lying down, protected by a slight elevation. Immediately batteries were ordered into position to shell the works; but it was all, or nearly all, uphill work, and not much damage could have been done. All it did accomplish was to make the enemy keep his head out of sight. One or two of our regiments were sent into the town, to prevent anything like a surprise on our flank. We then found that our engineers had already commenced a bridge directly opposite the town, over which, as soon as completed, General Gibbon of the 2nd Corps was to march his division. An hour or so elapsed before his men came into the town, and then he reported to the General, who directed him to move to the right, to try to obtain a position that would command the works directly in front of us. General Gibbon moved his men up, crossed a canal in rear of the town, but found his further progress impeded by a second canal, over which there was no bridge or other means of crossing. The rifle-pits in front of him were also well manned, and his movements unsuccessful, as they were not made without loss. Finding this plan fail, as did also an attempt to make a similar attack on the left, in front of General Howe, commanding our 2nd Division, and for a similar reason, the General finally organized a strong attack at about the centre of the works. In front of this point — which, by the way, can scarcely be called a point, for it was not less than three to four hundred yards in extent — was a slope almost entirely free from obstructions, and therefore completely under the enemy's fire, both of artillery and infantry. Then came a sunken road, lined on each side by a stone wall about four feet high, thus forming a strong and effective covering for the defenders. Beyond this was a short but somewhat steep slope to the crest of the heights, in which were the batteries. All these works were commanded and protected by each other, so that the position was a very strong one. The storming columns were formed, partly in column and partly in line, and ordered to move up at double-quick without firing a shot. Our artillery was ordered to open the hottest kind of a fire the instant our storming party should move. This fire was directed from each flank, and kept up as long as possible with safety to our own men. General Howe was directed to move upon the position in front of him, on the extreme left, in conjunction with the attack at the centre. At last everything was arranged, and the storming party began at a given signal to move from the streets where the different regiments were formed. The artillery opened a tremendous fire. As soon as the head of the columns made their appearance on the long slope, the enemy's fire opened upon them very heavily, both from guns and infantry, and, with the exception of one regiment, the whole force moved on steadily, magnificently, without firing a shot, the men dropping like leaves in autumn. Their approach to the works seemed, from where we stood watching, terribly slow. Every second that the dreadful fire continued diminished the strength of the attacking party by scores. One portion of the force almost seemed to come to a halt just on the edge of the sunken road of which I spoke. It was a very anxious moment; but it was only a moment, for the very next saw our men climbing the steep slope beyond the road, directly in front of the batteries. One single color (that of the 6th Maine) never for one second faltered until the very crest of the heights was gained, and it became a sign of victory and a rallying-point for the men who had met more obstacles in their way. There were only a few of us gathered about the General at this moment, but a cheer, weak as it was, could not be refused. The entire line of the works on those fearful heights was gained. General Howe had watched his opportunity, and carried the rifle-pits and batteries in his front in a very spirited manner. General Gibbon, at the earliest moment, brought his men through the town to our support, following the approach we had made.

The enemy fled in large numbers from his works, leaving many dead and wounded, fifteen pieces of artillery, and a considerable number of small arms. Our loss was, I think, about one thousand. The three rebel regiments which Butterfield told us occupied the position were found to be, upon inquiry of prisoners, five brigades. We captured between three and four hundred men; but of the fifteen guns taken, there were unfortunately but nine sent in. The others were retaken on the following day. This was no fault of the 6th Corps, which, in order to execute the order received to march to join General Hooker, could spare not a man or horse to send in the guns. General Gibbon, whose division remained in the town, should have attended to the matter, and, indeed, if he could have foreseen the events of the following day would, no doubt, have brought in all captured property of any value.

The heights once gained, our force moved on very steadily to a line of hills still higher, and distant about half or three quarters of a mile. Our broken line was reformed, our batteries brought up, and everything prepared to move forward. Our line of march was the plank road leading from Fredericksburg nearly due west to Chancellorsville, where, as Hooker informed the General, we would find the enemy's right flank entirely exposed to our attack. We moved on cautiously, skirmishers well in the advance. The enemy had succeeded in carrying off a couple of guns, by means of which he caused us not a little annoyance. He would take advantage of every good position, which was by no means seldom, to throw a few shells at our advancing column. Then it became necessary to dislodge them, which could be done only by artillery, which had first to be brought into proper position to reply. Artillery cannot march across country as infantry can, prepared at any moment to deliver its fire. All this took time, valuable time. The ground was undulating, and here and there slightly wooded. We went on slowly but carefully, so as not to be drawn into any trap. At last we approached a wood which covered the whole of the ground over which we were to advance. There we met their infantry in force, and there we had a very hard fight. Some of our regiments were broken into the merest fragments. Our approach had been slow enough to allow them, the enemy, to bring up reinforcements from Banks's Ford, distant from our right flank only about a mile, and also from the force in front of Hooker. At all events, wherever it came from, the force was sufficient to check us effectively until night came on. Thus finished Sunday. At daybreak on the morning of Monday the General sent me in to see General Butterfield, to tell him the position we were in, and to try to get communication with General Hooker, then not more than five or six miles distant from us. If we could only crash through, if Hooker would only cooperate with us, all might be well. I heard all Butterfield had to say, and rode on, crossed the river, passed through Fredericksburg, and had gone about half a mile beyond the town when I found a very serious obstacle to my further progress, in the shape of quite a large force of the enemy coming from the southwest directly toward the town, thus placing themselves between the town and the rear of our corps. I was thus prevented from joining the General, and turned back to try to make my way to him by way of Banks's Ford, but getting astray, did not succeed until about eleven at night, so that of the operations of our corps on that day (Monday) I can give you only what I have heard from those who were on the ground. The General had early notice of the movement of the enemy upon his rear, and he quickly made the necessary preparation to meet an attack from that direction. After taking possession of the very heights we had captured, the evident intention of the enemy was to cut the corps off from its only remaining line of retreat, namely, Banks's Ford. For this purpose a very heavy force was led by General Lee in person from the position in front of Hooker around our left, to fall upon what he supposed would be our rear and right flank. But the General had already established a portion of the corps in a new line of battle facing to the rear, and although the attack made by Lee was, according to all the accounts of those who saw it, the most furious of the war, it was most gallantly met and repulsed by a far inferior force.

It has been estimated that the force which Lee brought in this attack was not less than twenty thousand. Even supposing the number to have been no more than twelve to thirteen thousand, it was brought to bear upon very little more than two brigades of ours — not more than six to seven thousand men. This attack took place late in the afternoon, and, like the action of the previous day, was brought to a close by night setting in. During the evening the corps was moved to a position near to the bridges which had been laid at Banks's Ford, and before daylight the whole command had recrossed the river, and the bridges were taken up, the crossing and removal of the bridges being effected under an annoying but harmless artillery fire.

Several men — I heard of two or three — died from mere exhaustion before the corps recrossed the river. The day had been very hot, and the night even was unseasonably warm. It is by no means a pleasant thing for us — of the 6th Corps, I mean—to look back at the results of our short campaign; to think of the will with which the troops went to their work, and the fruitless results. I say fruitless; just look at it. Here we are just where we started from; we have lost nearly five thousand men, and what have we gained? Nothing, surely, in our position. We took about fifteen hundred prisoners and fifteen guns minus six, and we inflicted upon the enemy a loss in killed and wounded certainly not less than that sustained by ourselves; it is estimated by every one as greater, for our artillery made sad havoc in their dense attacking masses on Monday afternoon.

How different everything might, nay, would have been, if we had had the cooperation of even a small part of the immense force with Fighting Joe Hooker! Why did he not keep Lee occupied so that he would not have dared to turn his back to Chancellorsville, to fall upon us? Or if, finding that he had so left him, why did he not know it and act accordingly; fall upon the rear of his column as it came down upon us? What was Hooker there for? To entrench himself, with six corps under his command, and expect and even order one single corps to march right through the enemy, to “crush and destroy,” were the words of his order to the General, “any force which might oppose itself to” our march? Would it not have been quite as reasonable an undertaking for him to have marched with his force to join us, say, upon the heights of Fredericksburg, which we could so easily have held? You never saw a more bitter set of men than we were when we saw the way things were going. I saw General Hooker myself on Monday afternoon. I took considerable trouble to see him, thinking it might be some satisfaction to him to communicate with some staff-officer of the General's; but when I told him of the hard fight the corps had had the previous day, he said, in a very disagreeable way, that he had heard of it, and then added: “There were very few troops in front of you, however.” My reply was very short, and I left him. And now look at the order he issues congratulating the army on its achievements:

"If it [the army] has not accomplished all that was expected, the reasons are well known to the army. It is sufficient to say they were of a character not to be foreseen or prevented by human sagacity or resource.” Indeed, the “reasons” are very well known to the army. And if he had not sufficient sagacity to meet and overcome greater obstacles than he found, the best thing he can do is to resign. He says: “We have taken from the enemy five thousand prisoners captured and brought off seven pieces of artillery,” etc., when the only artillery taken was by our corps, a command so disconnected from him that he wrote to the General: “You are too far for me to direct.” He says nothing of all the artillery which he lost; and the “splendid achievements” of which he boasts in a previous order are as yet quite unknown to us. If he had but left us either one of the two corps — the 1st or 3rd — which were under the General's command when we first began operations, we could have gone through anything. If the rest of the army had fought as this corps did, we should have been in Richmond before this time.

After we returned to our old camps, and the pickets had resumed their old positions on the banks of the river, the rebel pickets called out to ours, saying that none of our army could ever cross that river again except “the fellows who took those heights.”

General Hooker was at first disposed to make this corps the scapegoat for his failure, but he soon found that he stood alone in his estimate of what had really been accomplished by it. The army — so far as we could learn, the whole army — stood to endorse the General, and to uphold him even against Hooker. It has, take it all together, been a magnificent opportunity thrown away — such an one as we can scarcely ever hope to have again. At no time did Hooker have more than one single corps engaged. Two of the corps with him did not fire a shot. Corps commanders begged for permission to attack, but were kept back. Hooker seemed to have just lost his head entirely.

I wish I could tell you of the thousand incidents of our short campaign. One sees so much that it is impossible to remember. In such times one lives on excitement. Eating and drinking is too insignificant a matter to think about. As for sleep, a few minutes thrown in here and there seem to be quite sufficient for the needs of nature, although, of course, such a state of things cannot last many days.

One of our staff, a volunteer aide, Mr. Farrar of Maine, was captured. Lieutenant-Colonel Kent, our Inspector-General, was slightly wounded. These are our only accidents.

I am very respectfully yours,

R. F. Halsted.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 110-29

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: December 13, 1862

Our hearts are full of apprehension! A battle is going on at or near Fredericksburg. The Federal army passed over the river on their pontoons night before last. They attempted to throw the bridges over it at three places; from two of these they were driven back with much slaughter; at the third they crossed. Our army was too small to guard all points. The firing is very heavy and incessant. We hear it with terrible distinctness from our portico. God of mercy, be with our people, and drive back the invaders! I ask not for their destruction; but that they may be driven to their own homes, never more to put foot on our soil; that we may enjoy the sweets of peace and security once more. Our dear boys — now as ever — I commit them into Thy hands.

Night. — Passengers report heavy skirmishing before they left Fredericksburg this morning, but cannonading tells us of bloody work since. A few wounded men were carried by to-night. We went to the depot to see if there were any particular friends among them, but found none.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 174-5

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, March 2, 1862

Headquarters Co. B, 2d Mass. Reg't,

Charlestown, Va., March 2, 1862.

I wrote in my last that we had received marching orders and were liable to be off at any moment. We remained in a state of uncertainty till Wednesday afternoon, when we had the following order: “Reveille at four Thursday morning; march at five; take cars from Frederick at seven.”

These orders were complied with on a dark, cloudy, muddy morning, except that we had to wait till half-past seven on the railroad track before we started for Sandy Hook. Our whole brigade went on this train. After a hard ride of about four hours, we arrived at Sandy Hook. We disembarked as soon as possible, and formed line along the canal. Everything looked as natural as if we had only left the day before, except the lower part of Harper's Ferry, which, you know, Colonel Geary destroyed by burning. We marched down to the ferry, across which there had been a pontoon bridge constructed. We had to cross this in single file to avoid much jarring. It is a beautiful bridge, built in this manner: at intervals of every twenty feet are the pontoons, which look like common flat-bottomed scows, and are connected together by planking about eight feet wide. The whole arrangement is connected to the shore by a system of ropes. The bridge must be at least eight hundred and sixty feet long.

After crossing, we marched through Harper's Ferry, which seemed perfectly full of troops; we went down the Shenandoah road about a mile and quartered the regiment in some empty houses we found. The weather had changed since morning, and the night was very cold, with a perfect gale of wind. Captain Williams, Lieutenant Oakey and myself, found a very good room which we occupied together. At four o'clock next morning, we were awakened by the “officer of the day” ordering us to have our men get their breakfasts. As the regiment was going to move in light marching order at daylight, I got up and hunted for some coffee. I was lucky enough to find one house pretty well supplied, and engaged them to make me ten gallons for our company. We were very fortunate in getting this, as it enabled the men to start off feeling warm and comfortable, which is a great thing.

At seven, our line was formed, and then we learned that we were to form part of a reconnoitering force, to consist of four squadrons of cavalry, four pieces of artillery and two regiments of infantry, the whole under command of Colonel Gordon. As this was a very good specimen of a reconnoissance in force, perhaps you would like to know how it was conducted.

First, a few cavalry skirmishers to scour the roads and fields; then the main body of cavalry; then two pieces of artillery supported by a company of infantry, followed by two more supported similarly; then on each side of the road, a platoon of skirmishers covering near a third of a mile each way; these protect the advance of the main body of infantry; the flanks are protected by skirmishers deployed as flankers. I had the second platoon of our company deployed on the left of the road to drive in any pickets that might be out, or obtain other information; every house we came to, I had a man search from top to bottom, for arms or anything else that might be hidden in them.

Our cavalry skirmishers met those of the enemy just this side of Charlestown, and drove them into their main body; our cavalry then came up at the gallop and sent the enemy flying out of town and a couple of miles into the countiy, many of them throwing away their arms in their hurry. We followed along and took quiet possession of the town, probably as thoroughly secesh a place as any in Virginia. People scowled at us from their windows, but did not venture much into the streets; those who did seemed almost frightened to death, every one thinking we were going to burn the town. The guns were put in position at once, commanding the Winchester roads. The cry was suddenly set up, “The General is coming!” Ranks were formed and dressed. Presently, Generals McClellan, Banks, and Hamilton, with their staffs and guards, rode by; we saluted, and the General took off his cap to us; he is a splendid looking man, though not much like his pictures. They rode out about two miles and returned. He was so well satisfied with the movement that he decided to have our force remain and occupy the town. Most of our regiment are quartered at the Court House; our company occupies the toll-house of the Charlestown, Berryville and Winchester turnpike, a short distance from the town, supporting a section of Hampton's battery; very comfortable quarters.

We were reinforced, Friday night, by two regiments and a regular battery. That night, our cavalry was several times driven in by the enemy's cavalry; we lost four horses and three men by these attacks, and captured one of the enemy. One of the sentinels of our company shot a cavalry horse through the neck while on picket last night, about a half a mile from our house; the picket fired three times and drove them back.

The only currency here in town is the Southern shinplaster, dreadful mean looking stuff; I will send you a five cent bank bill in a day or two. Coffee costs four dollars a pound here and hard to be had at that. We shall be off from here in a day or two for Winchester, but I do not believe we shall have to fire a gun to take it; then for Richmond via Manassas. This is a little better than sticking in the mud at Frederick. Direct to General Banks' Division, War Department, Washington.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 36-9

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, December 10, 1864

December 10, 1864

Miles, with the troops which had been sent to reinforce him, maintained a threatening attitude near Hatcher's Run till afternoon, when he was ordered to withdraw again to our lines. The enemy undertook to follow up a little, but the rear guard faced about and drove them away. — There was I seized with a fearful sleepy fit last night and went to bed; thus missing a letter home to you. However, I have not before missed one in a very long time; and, if I followed Duane's advice, I should miss much oftener. “Lyman,” says this ancient campaigner, “you are foolish to write so much. Now I write only once a week, so my letters are valued. You write every day, and probably Mrs. Lyman puts them in her pocket and pays no attention to them.” Ah! I was speaking of Miles, and had got him with all his forces, and put him inside the works, all right. We had to pay farewell respects to Riddle, for his resignation has been accepted and he goes to-morrow. For a long time he has been in miserable health and, in warm weather, is seldom well enough for hard duty. He has been twice wounded, at Antietam and on the Peninsula, and was taken prisoner, but got away from Libby and arrived, after many hardships, within our lines. He is a very good officer and quite a superior person, whom we shall miss on our Staff. The kind-hearted Woolsey invited us all to take oysters in his honor (for you must know that there is a log house where one may have a “fancy roast,” “plain stew,” or “one fried,” just across the road). We gathered in the greatest force, for oysters attracted, even if Riddle didn't, and had a high festival. We had songs, whereof I sang several, with large applause. “You don't drink,” said Duane, “but it don't make any difference, because you look as if you had been drinking, and that's all that is necessary.”

Before I finish this day I must go back to tell of the beginning and progress of the Weldon road expedition. Last Wednesday, General Warren, with his own Corps, Mott's division of the 2d Corps, and nearly the whole of Gregg's division of cavalry, started in the morning and marched down the Jerusalem plank road, striking across to the Nottoway River, at Freeman's Bridge, a distance of from fifteen to seventeen miles. There a pontoon bridge was thrown and the whole command got over before daybreak the next morning, the advance getting that night to Sussex Court House. Meantime the enemy, getting [wind] of the move, sent off A. P. Hill's Corps, that evening, twelve hours after Warren. Hill went to Dinwiddie Court House, but what became of him thereafter, I have not yet learned. Their place in the lines was taken, I presume, by some of Early's men, who were nearly all come down from the valley and are helping Lee now. On Thursday Warren continued his march and struck the Weldon road, a little south of the Nottoway, in the afternoon, and immediately went to destroying the track and burning the river bridge. The work went on systematically: the line being halted on the road, the men stacked arms, and went at the track. Sleepers were torn up, and these, with fence-rails, made great bonfires, on which the rails were laid. Soon the iron would wax red-hot, when the weight of the ends would bend the rails. Some of the men, however, were so enthusiastic as to take rails and twist them round trees, which could be done while the ends were cool and the middle hot. As soon as a brigade had finished its work, it marched down to a new piece, passing the other men who were destroying; and so they kept on till midnight, when they had got to Jarrott's station and there halted. Next day, Friday, the column kept on, as before, the cavalry preceding them, who, when they arrived at Meherrin Bridge, found strong earthworks on the opposite side and some ten guns, which immediately opened on them. . . .

This night was a very severe one, with its high wind and snow, sleet and rain; but it was rendered tolerable by the big fires that the soldiers lighted to heat rails with. General Warren did not deem proper to cross the Meherrin, as it would take a day to flank the Rebels' works, and he started with but six days' provisions. Next day, Saturday to wit, he began his return march and the head of the column got as far as Sussex C.H. On this march the people of the country had the bad judgment to “bushwhack” our troops: that is, to kill any stragglers or small parties they could catch. This is against the rules of war. I will not say it is surprising, because the stragglers of an army always steal and plunder and exasperate the people. Colonel Sergeant told me he himself saw five of our men shot and stripped nearly naked. The troops were so enraged by such cases, that they fired every house on their march, and, what made them worse, they found a great amount of apple-brandy in the country, a liquor that readily intoxicates. The superior officers destroyed a great deal of it, but the men got some and many were drunk. The people make this brandy on account of its great price. It sells for $1500 a barrel. Colonel Wainwright told me he found two tithing-bills in one house, one a year old, the other recent; in the old one wheat was valued at $10 a bushel, in the recent, at $40, showing that it has quadrupled in price within a year. It was on this day that a cavalry reconnaissance that pushed out on the Vaughan road reported heavy artillery firing in the direction of Jarrott's station. This made Grant so uneasy that he directed aid to be sent Warren. Accordingly Potter, with 9000 men, marched that night, and arrived next morning at five A.M. at the Nottoway, at Freeman's Bridge. A wretched march indeed! in slush and mud and a damp cold; but his men followed on very well and arrived with little straggling, which surprised me. .

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 293-6

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Monday, June 6, 1864

It is quite warm. We started early this morning, and crossing the Coosa river on a pontoon bridge, passed through Rome for Kingston, about fourteen miles distant. We arrived at Kingston about 4 o'clock in the afternoon and went into camp. Kingston is on the railroad running from Chattanooga to Atlanta. Our forces routed the rebels from here about ten days ago. A large force of our men is stationed here. There is no news from the front. We are still in mountainous country, but there are some very nice farms in the valley with fine dwelling houses.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 193

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Friday, May 27, 1864

We remained in bivouac until 2 o'clock waiting for rations. After getting our rations we crossed the Tennessee river by pontoon bridges and started on our way for Rome, Georgia. The railroad bridge of the Memphis & Ohio, here at Decatur, was destroyed by our gunboats soon after the battle of Shiloh. It took seventy-two pontoon boats to make our bridge. Our road today lay through a large swamp which it took some time for the artillery and provision trains to cross; besides we had some very rough country to cross, and did not get into bivouac until midnight.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 191

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, July 22, 1864

July 22, 1864

I had one of the most amusing excursions that I have had during the campaign — really quite a picnic. Colonel de Chanal, Rosy, and myself made the party. The distance to Butler's Headquarters, whither we were bound, is about eight miles, and the road all the way was either through the woods or shaded by trees, and the dust had not yet had time to show its head after the rain. It was a new part of the country to me and very interesting. We struck the Appomattox at the Point of Rocks, where the river appears double by reason of a long, swampy island in the middle. The width, between the two steep, high, gravelly banks, cannot be less than 350 yards. Here is a pontoon bridge, and, near each end of it, on the top of the bank, a fort for its defence. Below it, too, lies a gunboat. Crossing this, we soon came to the Great Ben's, who received us very hospitably, and exhibited a torpedo and a variety of new projectiles, the virtues of which in the destruction of the human race I explained in pure Gallic to the Colonel. During dinner he said to me: “They spoiled a good mechanic when they made me a lawyer, and a good lawyer when they made me general.” He delivered a long exposition (which I translated) on the virtues of a huge powderboat, which he would explode between Moultrie and Sumter, by clockwork, and not only flatten both forts, but Charleston into the bargain! De Chanal replied (citing examples) that no such result would follow and that the effect would be limited to a very small radius. “No effect!” cried B., suddenly bursting into French, "mais pourquoi non?” “Ah,” said De C, with his sharp French eye, “mais pourquoi si?” . . .

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 193-4

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

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, June 15, 1864

Headquarters Army Of Potomac

June 15, 1864

Of course, the first thing was to visit the great bridge. The approach to it lay along the river border, under the bank, and had been prepared with much labor, for, a day or two previous, it had been covered with great cypresses, some of them at least three and a half feet in diameter, and these had to be cut close to the ground, and the debris carefully cleared away; in a portion of the road too there was a muddy swamp, which had to be laboriously spanned by a causeway; but there was the whole thing, finished, and of course a photographer making a "picture" of it. It was very simple: you have only to fancy a bridge of boats, thirteen feet wide and 2000 long, the while looking so light as scarcely to be capable of bearing a man on horseback. In the middle of the river were anchored two schooners, which gave greater stability to the bridge, by being attached to it with ropes. What added to the strangeness of the scene was the ci-devant Rebel iron-clad Atlanta, lying there, like a big mud-turtle, with only its back exposed. The group was completed by two or three gunboats and several steamers anchored near by. It was funny to run against the marine in this inland region, and to see the naval officers, all so smug and well brushed in their clean uniforms. Admiral L____ came to visit the General – a pleasant old lady apparently. While we were at dinner came Colonel Babcock, from Grant at City Point, with news that Baldy Smith had marched thence before daylight, engaged the enemy at five A.M., and was driving them towards Petersburg. Orders were immediately given to halt the waggon-train, now passing the bridge, and allow the 9th Corps to pass over and push on towards Petersburg (by the same route that Hancock had been following, during the day), and there form on his left. Smith, meantime, had hit the enemy, some three or four miles from City Point, in a wood, near where the main road crossed the rail.  . . . How many there were I do not know, but they made a considerable fight with help of field batteries. Harry,¹ with 300 of his men, had the extreme left, and was wounded in this wood, early in the engagement. A soldier told me he held on for an hour after he was hit; and I was further told his men did remarkably well. Within about two and a half miles of the town, Smith ran on the strong works long since constructed for its defence. These consist of a series of redoubts, with regular ditches and barbettes for guns, and connected in a chain by a heavy infantry parapet. The line was defended by Wise's men¹ (who look to me just like other Confederate soldiers) and by the local militia. What a difference that makes!! Their batteries opened a well-directed fire as our people advanced; but no sooner did the lines of battle debouch from the woods and push over the open ground, than the militia got shaky behind their works and, when our troops charged, they broke and ran, leaving sixteen guns and 300 or 400 prisoners in our hands. Everyone gives great credit to the negroes for the spirit they showed. I believe there is no question their conduct was entirely to their credit. . . .

I shall never forget meeting, on the City Point road, five Confederate soldiers, under guard of nigs! . . . Three of the prisoners looked as if they could have taken off a tenpenny nail, at a snap. The other two seemed to take a ludicrous view of the matter and were smiling sheepishly. As to the negroes, they were all teeth, so to speak, teeth with a black frame. Hancock got up that evening and joined the 18th Corps. Their troops were all exhausted, but, oh! that they had attacked at once. Petersburg would have gone like a rotten branch. In war there is a critical instant — a night — perhaps only a half hour, when everything culminates. He is the military genius who recognizes this instant and acts upon it, neither precipitating nor postponing the critical moment. There is thus good reason why great soldiers should be so rare that generations pass without producing a single one. A great soldier must have, in addition to all usual traits of intellect, a courage unmoved by the greatest danger, and cool under every emergency, and the quickness of lightning, not only in conceiving, but in enforcing an order. . . .

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¹ Mrs. Lyman's brother.

² "Wise's Legion."

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 160-3

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, June 13, 1864

June 13, 1864

Last night, at dark, the whole army was in motion for "Charles City" on the James River (there is no "city" there, but I believe a house and a barn). . . . This morning we were on our way by 5.30 and, making a cut across the woods, we soon came on Barlow's division of the 2d Corps going rapidly toward the river, close to which we found Hancock, sitting on the grass and waiting for his Corps. At this point the Chickahominy is nothing of a stream, but, as it is bordered by considerable flats, it suddenly widens, during heavy floods, to perhaps half a mile, the water being just deep enough to stop waggons. This was a great trouble McClellan had: we have met with no such obstacle. This river is characteristic; a good drawing of this very scene at Long's Bridge might pass as the incarnation of malaria and swamp fever. Fancy a wide ditch, partly choked with rotten logs, and full of brown, tepid, sickly-looking water, whose slow current would scarcely carry a straw along. From the banks of dark mould rises a black and luxuriant vegetation: cypresses of immense size, willow oaks, and swamp magnolias, remind you that you are within the limits of a sub-tropical climate, and so does the unhealthy and peculiar smell of decaying leaves and stagnant water. A great contrast to this landscape, so suggestive of silence and loneliness, was the rumbling and clatter of Barlow's batteries, as they passed over the resounding pontoon bridge. We clattered over too, as soon as the last of the regiments had passed (which was about 10.30), designing to follow in rear of this division.  . . . We kept on, on the flank of the column, admiring its excellent marching, a result partly due to the good spirits of the men, partly to the terror in which stragglers stand of Barlow. His provost guard is a study. They follow the column, with their bayonets fixed, and drive up the loiterers, with small ceremony. Of course their tempers do not improve with heat and hard marching. There was one thin, hard-featured fellow who was a perfect scourge. “Blank you! — you—“ (here insert any profane and extremely abusive expression, varied to suit the peculiar case) “get up, will you? By blank, I'll kill you if you don't go on, double-quick!” And he looked so much like carrying out his threat that the hitherto utterly prostrate party would skip like the young lamb. Occasionally you would see a fellow awaiting the charge with an air of calm superiority, and, when the guard approached, pull out the aegis of a “surgeon's pass.” The column marched so fast that I was sent forward to tell General Barlow to go more gently. I found that eccentric officer divested of his coat and seated in a cherry tree. “By Jove!” said a voice from the branches, “I knew I should not be here long before Meade's Staff would be up. How do you do, Theodore, won't you come up and take a few cherries?” However, I could not stay, and so kept on till we came, somewhat suddenly, on well-cultivated fields with good crops of wheat, oats, and clover. I was speculating on the reason of this when somebody said we were within a mile of James River! and just after, General Meade ordered me to ride down and see what sort of a position there was and how the land lay.

It was about four o'clock in the afternoon that I caught the first sight of the water, as I cantered round the corner of a little grove. To appreciate such a sight you must pass five weeks in an almost unbroken wilderness, with no sights but weary, dusty troops, endless waggon-trains, convoys of poor wounded men, and hot, uncomfortable camps. Here was a noble river, a mile wide, with high green banks, studded with large plantation houses. In the distance, opposite, was Fort Powhatan, below which lay two steamers; and, what seemed strangest of all, not a Rebel soldier to be seen anywhere!  . . . There was a signal-man waving away with his flag to attract the attention of the steamers, to notify all concerned that the head of the Army of the Potomac had struck the James. We went to a field by the Tyler house for our camp — the birthplace of John Tyler, he of the big nose and small political principles — once Vice President, with Tippy-canoe and Tyler too. Nobody was there, save a lot of nigs, that were too funny; for there suddenly appeared among them one of our black servants, who had left that very place in McClellan's time. Such a “Lord a-a massy! is dat a-ar you? Wha-ar d'ge come from?” as never was heard, and great rejoicings over the distinguished traveller! What was more to the purpose, I got some green peas, a great coup; likewise milk, though “them a-ar infants” (meaning infantry) got the most of it.  . . . A pontoon bridge, 2000 feet long, was made in ten hours, and over this passed a train of waggons and artillery thirty-five miles long; more than half the infantry in the army and 3500 beef cattle; besides 4000 cavalry; all of which was chiefly accomplished within the space of forty-eight hours!¹ In civil life, if a bridge of this length were to be built over a river with a swift current and having a maximum depth of eighty-five feet, they would allow two or three months for the making of plans and collecting of materials. Then not less than a year to build it. This was a busy night on the river, messages going to City Point and Fort Monroe, and ferryboats and gunboats coming up as fast as possible to the neighborhood of Charles City. . . .

_______________

¹ As before stated, these letters were written after the events described.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 156

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, June 12, 1864

June 12, 1864^l

General Grant has appeared with his moustache and beard trimmed close, giving him a very mild air — and indeed he is a mild man really. He is an odd combination; there is one good thing, at any rate — he is the concentration of all that is American. He talks bad grammar, but he talks it naturally, as much as to say, “I was so brought up and, if I try fine phrases, I shall only appear silly.” Then his writing, though very terse and well expressed, is full of horrible spelling. In fact, he has such an easy and straightforward way that you almost think that he must be right and you wrong, in these little matters of elegance.  . . . At 3 P.M. tents were struck and we all rode to Despatch Station, where we turned up to the left and went as far as Moody's house.  . . . We halted in a field hard by and waited for the train, an operation that required much patience: for the waggons undertook to go over a sort of mill-dam, and tumbled down a bank and had many mishaps, so that they arrived only at ten. General Grant, however, had made a big fire, got a piece of board, lain down on it, with a bag under his head, and was fast asleep. At eleven, before getting to bed; we had news that Wilson's cavalry had forced the passage of the Chickahominy at Long's Bridge (the bridge was long since burnt) and that the pontoon was going down for the passage of the 5th Corps. Fain would I write more, but I am so stupid and sleepy that I am not equal to it.

_______________

¹ On this date the army began its march to the James River.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 156

Diary of Private Alexander G. Downing: Saturday, February 6, 1864

Our army did not move until in the afternoon, because of having to lay the pontoons across the Pearl river. The rebels had burned the bridges, twenty-eight in all, after crossing. I was detailed this morning as special guard at the Seventeenth Corps headquarters while out on this expedition. Things are quiet in the rear.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 166

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: June 4, 1864

Saturday morning. Up early and on the march, going on through the town. About ten miles up the pike is Mount Crawford, at which point the Shenandoah River crosses the pike. The enemy have the mount strongly fortified, a commanding position. About three miles out of Harrisonburg we file to the left over a dirt road. The intention seems to be to flank the mount. We are now making for Port Republic, near which we were obliged to cross the Shenandoah River. Owing to the recent heavy rains it was very high, running swift. A canvas pontoon bridge was made by drawing canvas over boat frames which had been made and brought along. The boats were made and placed in the river, when the bridge was completed like any pontoon bridge, except the canvas boats. (The first and only ones I ever saw, and was the only time I ever saw that one used.) It was a frail thing for an army to cross on. General Hunter sat on his horse very close to the frail bridge, anxiously watching us cross, and shouting, “Men, break step.” That would divide the weight while we were on the bridge. That seemed to be a duty that the General would not trust to any one else. (I well remember that scene.) As far as I know the army all passed over in safety. The cavalry crossed at some other point. A young cavalryman attempted to swim his horse across the river near the bridge, slipped or fell from his horse and was drowned. Many boys jumped in and dove for him. The high, swift-running, dirty water was too much for them. The Shenandoah River was his grave, as it was the grave of many other Union soldiers. Some were members of our regiment, the 18th Connecticut. The enemy was driven out of Port Republic, losing a large wagon train filled with supplies, captured by our cavalry. The supplies were distributed to us. A number of packages of coffee came to our company, which gave to us a great surprise as they were put up in our home town by Selden & Willard, Norwich, Conn. Here we were, one hundred miles from our base of supplies, in the enemy's country. It has often been reported that there are people in the North getting rich by running supplies through the blockade. These people are anxious to prolong the war when they should remember that every battle kills a soldier, and by the help they give to the foes. These soldier boys have dear friends at home. Passed on through Port Republic, camping near the town. Hunter forced the enemy to leave Mount Crawford and change front. Judging from what we can learn the enemy is in strong force in our front. Night sets in dark and raining.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 66-7

Diary of Private Alexander G. Downing: Wednesday, February 3, 1864

We started this morning at 8 o'clock and marched to the Black river, where we bivouacked for the night. Our brigade was train guard for the provision train. Our entire expedition is supposed to have about twenty-five thousand men, composed of infantry, artillery and cavalry, with one engineers' corps in charge of a pontoon bridge. The weather is fine for marching. General Crocker's Division has started ahead.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 166

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, November 9, 1863

Headquarters Army Of Potomac

November 9, 1863

We have once more moved our Headquarters. . . . Reveille was beaten so early that, when I popped my sleepy head out of the tent, there were the stars, most magnificent, especially Venus who sat above the moon and looked like a fire-ball. The moon was but a little one, but her circle was completed by that kind of image you often see, only the figure of the Man-in-the-Moon was plainly reflected on this image, a thing I never noticed before. These were the astronomical observations of Lyman, as he stood in the sharp air, clad in a flannel shirt and drawers. A sense of coldness about the legs roused me to a sense of my position, and I speedily added more warm garments. Breakfast was ready by the time it was light; and, every mouthful of beef I stowed away, I expected to hear the cannon that would announce the opening of the great battle. The General was confident of a battle and remarked cheerfully that “he meant to pitch right into them.” The idea was that they would take a chosen position, near Brandy Station, and there await our attack, for which they would not have been obliged to wait long. The bulk of the army was therefore crossed at Kelly's Ford, so as to advance with undivided force; General Sedgwick, however, with nearly his whole corps, held the redoubt he had taken on the north side, and, at the proper moment, was ready to throw his bridges, cross the river and take them in the flank. An hour wore away, and there was no sound of battle; so we all mounted, and rode to a small house on Mt. Holly. This is a low, steep hill, close to Kelly's Ford and commanding it. . . . Presently there appeared a couple of dragoons, with five fresh prisoners.  . . . “How were you taken?” quoth the Provost-Marshal. “Well, we were on guard and we went to sleep, and, when we woke up, the first thing we seed was your skirmish line” (which was only a roundabout way of saying they were common stragglers). “Where is the rest of your army?” “All gone last night to the breastworks behind the Rapidan!” And this was the gist of the matter. We passed Ewell's Headquarters, a little while after, and there I learned that, when news of the capture of the redoubt was brought him, he exclaimed with some profanity, “Then it's time we were out of this!” and immediately issued orders to fall back, along the whole line, after dark. There we crossed on a pontoon bridge, and found the 5th Corps massed, on the other side. As the cavalcade trotted by, the men all ran to the road and cheered and yelled most vociferously for General Meade. Soon we came up with General Warren. He looked like a man of disappointed hopes, as he gazed round the country and said, “There's nobody here — nobody!” And so we passed on, and beheld our English friends, with the Staff of General Webb. They had a very bewildered air, which seemed to say: “Oh, ah, where are these Rebel persons? pray could you tell me where they are?” Near Brandy Station we met good “Uncle John” Sedgwick, who said it was a cool day, as if there was nothing particular on hand, and he hadn't been doing anything for a week or two. It was now late on this Sunday afternoon and the troops were massing, to bivouac. There seemed really no end of them; though but part of the army was there; yet I never saw it look so big, which is accounted for by the fact that the country is very open and rolling and we could see the whole of it quite swarming with blue coats.  . . . We recrossed the Rappahannock at the railroad, and saw the fresh graves of the poor fellows who fell in the assault of the redoubt. The Rebel officers said it was the most gallant thing they had seen. Two regiments, the 6th Maine and 7th Wisconsin, just at sundown, as the light was fading, charged up a long, naked slope, in face of the fire of a brigade and of four cannon, and carried the works at the point of the bayonet.  . . . I think it no small praise to General Meade to say that his plans were so well laid out that our loss in all is but about 400. No useless slaughter, you see, though there was plenty of room for a blunder, as you would have known had you seen the lines of breastworks the fellows had; but we took part of them and scared them out of the rest.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 44-6

Diary of Charles H. Lynch: June 16, 1863

Up very early this morning. All Major Peale could muster of the 18th Regiment was only thirty members. The rest of those who escaped were with Captain Matthewson, they taking a different route from Major Peale who followed the route taken by General Milroy.

After breakfast of hardtack and coffee, the Major marched us on through Harper's Ferry, crossing the Potomac River on a pontoon bridge. On, up Maryland Heights, halting under low pine trees, well up to the top of the Heights. Here we were allowed to remain for rest and sleep. General Dan Tyler, a Connecticut man, was in command of a large force at this point. From the top of the Heights we could see the enemy crossing the Potomac River at Williamsport into Maryland. Our detachment was detailed for headquarters guard at the quarters of General Tyler. The duty was easy and made very interesting about all the time.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 22-3

General John Bell Hood to Brigadier-General William H. Jackson, October 10, 1864 – 8 a.m.

CAVE SPRING, October 10, 1864. – 8 a.m.

Brigadier-General JACKSON, Commanding Cavalry:

General Hood desires me to inform you that the pontoon at Quinn's Ferry, on the Coosa River, will be taken up this evening, and you must put on a line of couriers to that place to connect with a line on the other side. They will meet at the ferry and must continue to keep some there or near there to take dispatches over the line. Day after to-morrow (12th), unless you are otherwise engaged, General Hood desires you will move on Rome and make considerable of a demonstration from your side of the river, but be careful not to fire into the town. Communicate fully and frequently about all movements of the enemy.

 A. P. MASON,

 Assistant Adjutant-General.

SOURCES: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 39, Part 2 (Serial No. 79), p. 811; John Bell Hood, Advance and Retreat, p. 261