Diary of Private Louis Leon: July 23, 1863

Left at 5 this morning, went through Front Royal—seventeen miles to-day. Waded the south and north prongs of the Shenandoah River. We then took the road to Mananas Gap, marched three miles, when we met the enemy and had brisk firing until dark. Their line is very strong. They advanced in two lines in very fine order. When they got within range of our guns we opened on them, and they scattered like bluebirds. We had a beautiful view of this fight, as we are on the mountain. Neither of the armies can move without being seen by the other. Our corps of sharpshooters has been formed again since a few days ago. We were sent to the support of the other corps. We were within twenty yards of the enemy's line until midnight, when we fell back in good order.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 42

Diary of Private Louis Leon: June 12, 1863

Left at 5 A.M., marched over part of the Blue Ridge, and crossed the head of the Rappahannock River-eighteen miles to-day. We marched through Front Royal, where the ladies treated us very good. Camped one mile north side of town, and waded the Shaninoar, both prongs.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 30

Diary of Gideon Welles: Monday, September 19, 1864

Grant has gone up to the Shenandoah to see Sheridan. I had advised Porter and Fox to visit Grant on James River, but this prevented, and yesterday it was said at the War Department he would be here to-day. We now learn he has already returned to the Army of the Potomac, so P. and F. left this P.M. to visit him and arrange particulars. Grant has not yet decided or made known what general he shall select for this service.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 2: April 1, 1864 — December 31, 1866, p. 150-1

Diary of Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: July 17—20, 1864

[The Diary for the last few months of 1864 is for the most part hardly more than a line a day, entered in a pocket memorandum book, "The Southern Almanac for 1864," which Hayes's orderly, William Crump, had got hold of at Middlebrook, Virginia, early in June. Many of the entries were originally made with a pencil and subsequently inked over. Usually the entries give only a bald statement of the movement of the day. In some cases entries are omitted here entirely; in other cases several are combined in a single paragraph.]

                                

Sunday afternoon, July 17, [the] Fifth [Virginia] and Twenty-third [Ohio] [marched from Martinsburg] to near Charlestown. Slept in a farmyard. Twelve miles. The next day, march toward Harpers Ferry and [the] Shenandoah at Keys Ferry. Whole brigade together. Fine river and valley. Skirmish all P. M. Heavy cannonading at Snickers Ford. Twenty-three miles. Spent Tuesday (19th) skirmishing with Bradley Johnson's Cavalry between camp on Bull Skin and Kabletown. Rodes' Division try to take us in and fail after a brisk fight. Six miles. Wednesday (20th), back to Keys Ferry and Harpers Ferry [and] thence to Charlestown; ordered to join General Crook. Ten miles.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 483-4

Major-General Philip H. Sheridan to Brevet Major-General Wesley Merritt, November 2, 1864

HEADQUARTERS MIDDLE MILITARY DIVISION,               

November 27, 1864.

Bvt. Maj. Gen. WESLEY MERRITT,

Commanding First Cavalry Division:

GENERAL: You are hereby directed to proceed to-morrow morning at 7 o'clock with the two brigades of your division now in camp to the east side of the Blue Ridge, via Ashby's Gap, and operate against the guerrillas in the district of country bounded on the south by the line of the Manassas Gap Railroad as far east as White Plains, on the east by the Bull Run range, on the west by the Shenandoah River, and on the north by the Potomac. This section has been the hotbed of lawless bands, who have, from time to time, depredated upon small parties on the line of army communications, on safe guards left at houses, and on all small parties of our troops. Their real object is plunder and highway robbery. To clear the country of these parties that are bringing destruction upon the innocent as well as their guilty supporters by their cowardly acts, you will consume and destroy all forage and subsistence, burn all barns and mills and their contents, and drive off all stock in the region the boundaries of which are above described. This order must be literally executed, bearing in mind, however, that no dwellings are to be burned and that no personal violence be offered to the citizens. The ultimate results of the guerrilla system of warfare is the total destruction of all private rights in the country occupied by such parties. This destruction may as well commence at once, and the responsibility of it must rest upon the authorities at Richmond, who have acknowledged the legitimacy of guerrilla bands. The injury done this army by them is very slight. The injury they have indirectly inflicted upon the people and upon the rebel army may be counted by millions. The Reserve Brigade of your division will move to Snickersville on the 29th. Snickersville should be your point of concentration, and the point from which you should operate in destroying toward the Potomac. Four days' subsistence will be taken by the command. Forage can be gathered from the country through which you pass. You will return to your present camp, via Snicker's Gap, on the fifth day.

By command of Maj. Gen. P. H. Sheridan:

JAS. W. FORSYTH,             

Lieutenant-Colonel and Chief of Staff.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 43, Part 1 (Serial No. 91), p. 679

Lieutenant-General Ulysses S. Grant to Major-General Philip H. Sheridan, August 16, 1864—1:30 p.m.

CITY POINT, August 16, 1864—1.30 p.m.              

(Received 6.30 a.m. 17th.)

Major-General SHERIDAN,

Commanding, &c., Winchester, Va.:

Fitz Lee's division is not in the Valley. We took quite a number of prisoners from it yesterday north of the James. Kershaw's division has gone to the Valley, and probably two brigades of Wilcox's division. Some cavalry has gone, but I do not know whose. I would not advise an attack on Early in an intrenched position, but would watch him closely with the cavalry, and if he attempts to move north follow him. The 100-days' men will have to be discharged at the expiration of their time unless there is a pressing necessity for detaining them for a few days on account of immediate active hostilities. The families of most of Mosby's men are known, and can be collected. I think they should be taken and kept at Fort McHenry, or some secure place, as hostages for the good conduct of Mosby and his men. Where any of Mosby's men are caught hang them without trial.

U. S. GRANT,                                   

Lieutenant-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 43, Part 1 (Serial No. 90), p. 811

Diary of Captain Luman Harris Tenney: February 28, 1865

Reveille at 4 A. M. Brigade moved out in advance at 6. Waited at the Shenandoah for the pontoons to come up. Most of our brigade forded. One 3rd N. J. man drowned. Our regt. did nicely. Camped at Lacey's Springs.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 146

Abraham Lincoln to Major-General Irvin McDowell, May 24, 1862 – 5 p.m.

WAR DEPARTMENT,

May 24, 1862 — 5 p.m.

Major-General McDOWELL,

Fredericksburg:

General Frémont has been ordered by telegraph to move from Franklin on Harrisonburg to relieve General Banks, and capture or destroy Jackson's and Ewell's forces.

You are instructed, laying aside for the present the movement on Richmond, to put 20,000 men in motion at once for the Shenandoah, moving on the line or in advance of the line of the Manassas Gap Railroad. Your object will be to capture the forces of Jackson and Ewell, either in co-operation with General Frémont or, in case want of supplies or of transportation interferes with his movements, it is believed that the force with which you move will be sufficient to accomplish this object alone. The information thus far received here makes it probable that if the enemy operate actively against General Banks you will not be able to count upon much assistance from him, but may even have to release him.

Reports received this moment are that Banks is fighting with Ewell 8 miles from Winchester.

A. LINCOLN.

[Indorsement]

Order General Shields to take up his line of march to-morrow for Catlett's.

I. McD.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 12, Part 3 (Serial No. 18), p. 219

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Monday, July 18, 1864

Marched at 4 o'clock a. m., passed through Snickersville on a narrow stony road, and arrived at Snicker's Gap about noon. We went through the gap, but on arriving at the Shenandoah river at Island Ford about 6 o'clock p. m. found that some of Crook's force had crossed and was skirmishing; did not fight very well; fell back to the river in a stampede, plunged in and some were drowned; probably green troops. Mosby's guerillas have been in our rear all day and robbed some of our stragglers. The artillery shelling this evening made us feel uncomfortable, as the shells landed right among us.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 124-5

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: June 28, 1865

Harper's Ferry. A fine morning. Early on board train, waiting for it to move. At 8 A. M. the train began to move slowly along the banks of the Shenandoah River, on over the iron bridge across the Potomac River, into Maryland. The cheering was loud, with shouts of “Good-bye old Virginia.” The cheering echoed and re-echoed between the mountains of Maryland and Virginia. I knew all the points of interest in this vicinity. We are in passenger cars, running along the banks of the Potomac River. At the Point of Rocks, about ten miles from Harper's Ferry, the road turns to the left, headed to the north. At this point we bid farewell to the old Potomac. No more picket duty along its banks in all kinds of weather, watching for the enemy, and looking at the turkey buzzards as they go sailing through the air. Many times have I waded the old Potomac, swam in its water, drank it, made coffee, fished in it. When clear its waters appeared blue, or yellow from the storms. Either blue or yellow we were obliged to use it and make the best of it.

The country looked fine with its summer dress on, as we passed through it. Arrived in Baltimore this afternoon. Marched from the Camden Street station, across the city to the Philadelphia Railroad station. Passed through Pratt Street, the point where the 6th Massachusetts Regiment was attacked in April 1861. Soon on board train where hilarity continued. No one allowed to go to sleep. All are in good spirits and very happy as we go speeding on towards Philadelphia, bound for home.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 157-8

Major Wilder Dwight, April 29, 1862

camp Near Harrisonburg, April 29, 1862.

I believe I wrote you a short letter since our arrival here. Written in a northeast storm, perhaps it had a little of the gloom of the sky that overhung it. Let me try what brighter skies may inspire. Sunday morning last broke; yes! broke, and the spell — of weather which had held us so long yielded at last. The snows which we found on the field vanished.

In the midst of our morning inspection an order came to march at once on a reconnoissance towards Jackson's position in the Swift Run Gap on the Blue Ridge. We got off at about eleven o'clock, with the Twenty-seventh Indiana Regiment. It was our duty to support the cavalry and artillery under General Hatch. We went out on the “mud pike” to Magaugheysville, or rather toward that euphonious town. Such a road! We toiled out eleven miles. The cavalry pushed beyond Magaugheysville and had a brisk little skirmish, in which we took two prisoners and lost one. The Rebels have the bridge that crosses the Shenandoah full of brush and combustibles, ready to burn when we press them. It is reported that Jackson is reinforced by a brigade or more, and that he will make a stand in the gap. If this is so, perhaps we may get a little fight out of him. But I am still of the persuasion which I have always held. Our problem in this valley has always been, the movement and subsistence of our army. The enemy has always been a secondary consideration, though he has kept up a vigorous resistance.

In the ripeness of time we must cross the ridge and find ourselves close on the flank of that army that resists McClellan at Yorktown. This is certainly the right way.

What politics or jealousy or a divided command may confuse us into blundering, I cannot say.

We have reduced our baggage, and I send home a trunk. The hard pan is what we come down to, and miss only the opportunity to drive twice our force of Rebels from any position they may take.

I rejoice in the capture of New Orleans, and believe that the 1st of June will show the Rebellion crushed and bleeding.

Yesterday I was busy all day on outpost duty. On Sunday our regiment marched twenty-two miles between eleven o'clock and sunset: good work. We have met one misfortune since our arrival here. A corporal of Company H, who was a capital man, and a good soldier, marched into our present camp with the regiment, was taken sick the next day of typhus fever, and died within forty-eight hours. This morning he was buried, and I could not help thinking how little of the soldier's reward he would receive, yet how much he deserves.

We are all well, and hoping to move on toward Richmond.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 242-3

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 8, 1862

The European statesmen, declining intervention in our behalf, have, nevertheless, complimented our President by saying he has, at all events, “made a nation.” He is pleased with this, I understand. But it is one of the errors which the wise men over the water are ever liable to fall into. The “nation” was made before the President existed: indeed, the nation made the President.

We have rumors of fighting near the month of the Shenandoah, and that our arms were successful. It is time both armies were in winter quarters. Snow still lies on the ground here.

We have tidings from the North of the trinmph of the Democrats in New York, New Jersey, etc. etc. This news produces great rejoicing, for it is hailed as the downfall of Republican despotism. Some think it will be followed by a speedy peace, or else that the European powers will recognize us without further delay. I should not be surprised if Seward were now to attempt to get the start of England and France, and cause our recognition by the United States. I am sure the Abolitionists cannot now get their million men. The drafting must be a failure.

The Governor of Mississippi (Pettus) informs the President that a Frenchman, perhaps a Jew, proposes to trade salt for cotton — ten sacks of the first for one of the latter. The Governor says he don't know that he has received the consent of "Butler, the Beast" (but he knows the trade is impossible without it), but that is no business of his. He urges the traffic. And the President has consented to it, and given him power to conduct the exchange in spite of the military authorities. The President says, however, that twenty sacks of salt ought to be given for one of cotton. Salt is worth in New Orleans about one dollar a sack, cotton $160 per bale. The President informed the Secretary of what had been done, and sends him a copy of his dispatch to Gov. Pettus. He don't even ask Mr. Randolph's opinion.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 184-5

Major Wilder Dwight: April 4, 1862

Camp Near Edinburg, Virginia, April 4, 1862.

We make life musical these hot sunny days with the screeching whir of shells or the sharp buzz and sping of rifle-balls. But the enemy keep at a respectful distance, for the most part, and our own shameful mismanagement about supplies, or some large wisdom affecting other forces, keeps us quiet. Our tents came up yesterday, and we are now in camp again. This morning Colonel Andrews and I have been out “prospecting” round, as they say in this country.

The Rebel pickets are in plain sight, just beyond the river, but there is no evidence of any force there, and when we conclude to go on, on we shall go without difficulty. Our advance to this point was made by our regiment in fine style. The men skirmished over a distance of fifteen miles, and did their work well. Neither the musketry nor the artillery delayed or embarrassed our progress, which was as rapid as an ordinary day's march. The impetus and stimulant of pursuit spurred on the march, over a difficult and broken country. At the “Narrow Pass,” where the Shenandoah and a creek crossing the pike a little below almost come together, but are kept asunder by a piece of rock, over which the road passes with just the width of a carriage path, was the sharpest conflict. It was mainly an “artillery duel,” as the phrase is. Our skirmishers had learned, however, before this, that, to their deployed line, the shell, though assailing the ear with terror, were sound and fury signifying nothing. Their effect was aimed at the reserves or our artillery, and it really had an unpleasant sound as it whizzed or spanged near us. It is high time that being “under fire” should be among our “has beens.” I am quite satisfied that the order and discipline of the regiment will tell there as it has everywhere else, and our recent experience is a proof of it. I suppose you must have read General Shields's “private” letter about the battle at Winchester. A more barefaced series of Irish romances I never read. The man actually has the effrontery to connect his fortunate blunders into a chain of shrewd stratagems, and with after-event wisdom to glorify himself. The idea of a man in bed, with a broken arm, four miles from the field, not knowing of the enemy's force or positions till four, P. M., directing and guiding a battle that commenced at once and closed in two hours!! Pshaw! It is like Sir Lucius O'Trigger or Mickey Free.

“An attack having many of the elements of a surprise,” says General Banks in his order, praising the courage and constancy of the soldiers.

“Och, sure,” says our Irish general, turning with a shrewd wink to the public; “but it was a sthratagim o' me own. It's the clivir bye that I am, be dad! Troth, but I decaved 'em. And I, too, with only twelve thousand men to me back, and only a brigadier. It's I should be major-general at laste, then ye would see. Gineral Banks, indade! Och, he's a foine man intirely, and thrates me well. But it's I that inwents the sthratagims!”

Possibly there will be truth in history hereafter; there is none in the present record.

I advise you to subscribe for or buy regularly the Congregationalist newspaper. It contains our Chaplain's letters, which I consider very clever and entertaining.

Is it not about father's birthday? At any rate, I may wish him a happy return next year, and may I be there to see.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 225-7

Major Wilder Dwight: Monday, March 24, 1862

winchester, Virginia (again), March 24, Monday.

I've only a minute in which to send you greeting. Again are we hurried by a forced march, over rough roads, to see the dregs and debris of a battle, — heaps of wounded, dying, and dead. Well, again fortune is against us. We left here on Saturday morning for Centreville. The bridge across the Shenandoah broke, and luckily delayed us. Back we were ordered at midnight of last night. An angry, bitter, well-fought fight followed, yesterday afternoon, upon an artillery duel which had occupied nearly all day. So little did any one know it was coming, that General Banks went up to Harper's Ferry at three, P. M., and the sharp fight commenced at four! The battle-ground was that on which my pickets had been posted until we left town. It seems to have been an exhibition of dogged courage by unruled and undisciplined soldiers.

So we go The lees and flatness of the sparkling goblet of victory are all that we taste. Jackson and Ashby are clever men. We are slow-w-w!

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 215-6

Major Wilder Dwight: March 21, 1862

camp Near Winchester, Virginia, March 21, 1862.

If you had looked upon our camp at sunrise reveillé, this morning, you would have seen a dreary, wintry picture. The mules gathered closely about their wagons in the scourging snow-storm with sullen endurance, their tails drawn tightly down, and standing in a vicious attitude of expectant kicking. The horses crossly laying back their ears with half-closed eyes and hanging necks. The soldiers standing up to their roll-call in the attitude of the traveller in the spelling-book, against whom the wind is striving to gain the victory of the fable. The ground whiter than the morning's early light, but only serving to darken the tents into a cheerless and gloomy hue. The air itself thick with snow and sleet. The camp-fires just beginning to smoke, and men hopelessly endeavoring to allure a blaze from black coals and dripping wood. The camp-kettles and mess-pans crusted with ice, suggestive of anything else than a warm breakfast. Would you not expect every mind of the thousand men, remembering also their two thousand wet feet, to be in harmony with the scene? Yet, I know not how it is, from some inherent perverseness perhaps, I was in excellent spirits.

The order has now come to march. Our destination is Centreville, en route, perchance, for the enemy. At any rate, I have grown philosophical again.

I buried hope yesterday, had a glorious wake, and resolved to sink every other wish in the absorbing one of the progress of the war without or with the Massachusetts Second, as it may happen.

We cross the Shenandoah at Snicker's Gap. The march is one of about sixty miles, and will occupy at least four days.

General Banks, who has just returned from Washington, seems in good spirits. He gives, however, a depressing account of the Congressional and political folly which continues to assail McClellan. If McClellan were all they charge him to be, their lips should be sealed.

Every good man will now seek to strengthen the hand and animate the purpose of the General under whose guidance the decisive campaign begins

The weather is breaking away, and promises no very severe penance for our march, though it is not fun that is before us next week. No news yet of Howard, I suppose. It is clear that he has been in one of the hottest battles of the war. You will not hear from me again till Centreville probably.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 214-5

Major Wilder Dwight: Saturday, March 8, 1862

Charlestown, Virginia, March 8, 1862, Saturday.

We are quite at home in Charlestown now. We went into camp on Wednesday. On Thursday I was detailed as brigade officer of the day.

That kept me in the saddle all day and until night. And now I have a story of a midnight march for you. It is midnight of Thursday night. It may have begun to be Friday morning. I am sleeping in my tent; my nose alone apprising me that it is bitter cold. The rattle of an orderly is heard galloping into the camp. Soon, again, my reviving wakefulness hears the voice of Major Perkins, General Banks's Chief of Staff, talking to the Colonel in the next tent.

At last I am called. “Get the regiment under arms at once, Major,” is the order, “and move down on the Berryville Pike.” Colonel Maulsby, who is at Kabletown, near the Shenandoah, with part of his regiment, is reported to have been attacked by Rebel cavalry, and “cut to pieces.” A force of cavalry, artillery, and two regiments of infantry, under Colonel Gordon, is to move at once, cautiously, to his relief. It is dark, and so cold. A discussion of the best route ensues. The regiment is turned out. I mount my horse and ride down to take command. In the darkness, it is difficult to see whether the regiment is facing one way or another. We move down upon the road. The Sixteenth Indiana follows us.

After proceeding a mile upon the pike, we turn off upon the “Dirt Road,” so called, toward Kabletown. Over rocks, through ruts and mire, half frozen, we make a slight headway. The artillery cannot proceed. It is too dark for even safe progress by infantry. “Halt! Build fires, and bivouac till daylight.” In fifteen minutes, from our position at the head of the line to the rear of it is a succession of bright fires, with groups of men gathered round them. Down the hill, and along the winding road is one blaze of camp-fires. The sight is a fine one. At last the morning star rises, like a flame, and the day follows her. We move again, with flankers and advance guard. As we had been sitting about the fire, waiting for day, a teamster of Colonel Maulsby's regiment, who was our guide, had told his story, how the cavalry charged upon them, cut them down, and “now,” said he, “Colonel Maulsby and all his officers are either dead or on their way to Richmond.”

As we drew near to Kabletown we saw pickets and outposts. A company of our regiment, deployed as skirmishers, went down on the field toward them. They withdrew; but suddenly it appears that they are part of Colonel Maulsby's Home Guard!

We advance again, when, at a turn in the road, the quiet camp of Colonel Maulsby appears in tranquil unconsciousness. The teamster opens his eyes in blank amazement. We halt. I go on and find Colonel Maulsby, delighted and surprised to see me.

Then come the explanations. A patrol of our cavalry lost its way, last night, came rapidly in on the camp by the wrong road. Maulsby's men fired, and so did the cavalry. The teamsters and a few of the outposts were panic-stricken, and their terror drew a picture which had little resemblance to the reality.

In the unlucky blunder, a horse and man were shot. The fugitive teamsters and outposts had led us a pretty chase. The joke and collapse were ridiculous. “Come in to breakfast,” said Colonel Maulsby. Ha! ha! ha! We are the heroes of Kabletown! On our return, I told General Banks that Kabletown should be inscribed on our banners!

We had a night march, and at ten o'clock in the morning we got back to our camp, after fourteen miles of marching over the worst road in the world. Well! what of it? There is no harm done, and perhaps this wretched cavalry has learnt a lesson.

I am writing in the Provost Marshal's office in the Charlestown jail. Colonel Andrews is still Provost Marshal. John Brown's cell, on the opposite side of the entry, is full of contrabands, fugitives within our lines, most of them to be sent to work at Harper's Ferry. Again I give you an odd retribution from the whirligig of events.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 203-5

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: September 17, 1864

Pleasant morning. Detailed for picket duty. Located northeast of town, between the Harper's Ferry Pike and the Shenandoah River, on the ground where old John Brown was hung in 1859. About noontime saw a company of cavalrymen come flying down the pike from Harper's Ferry. Wondered what it meant. Later we learned that General Grant and General Sheridan were in town. Caused much excitement and comment as they held a conference at a large house just southeast of town. The company I saw from our picket post was General Grant and his escort. All is quiet tonight.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 125

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

Captain Charles Fessenden Morse, September 26, 1862

Maryland Heights, September 26, 1862.

In my last letter, I wrote that we had orders to march the next morning. Our whole corps was routed out before daylight; our division, under command of General Gordon, marched to Maryland Heights, our brigade occupying our old last year's camping ground. Green's division crossed the Potomac and now occupies London Heights, the other side of the Shenandoah. Sumner's corps is encamped on Bolivar Heights. I think at last we are going to have a little rest; I can't tell. Everything seems about as it did last year up here; we have as splendid views and fine sunsets as ever. We have been very busy making up our pay rolls for the last two days. They are now a month behind time; there is any quantity of other papers which have been accumulating for the last six weeks, which will keep us hard at work for a week at least.

One of the men of my company killed at Sharpsburgh, the other day, lived in Brookline, and had been out here only about six weeks; his name was Thomas Dillon, and he was a good, faithful fellow. He was buried by two men in my company who volunteered to do it. A letter came for him two days after his death, which I think, under the circumstances, was one of the most affecting things I ever read, and yet it is only one instance among thousands. I do not know of anything that has brought the horrors of the war more plainly before me than this letter. I have written to the father of Dillon, telling him of his son's death.

You remember, don't you, of my speaking of a young boy named Stephens, who was killed at Winchester; his brother was wounded at Cedar Mountain, and has since died; they were their poor father's and mother's only sons; it is one of the hardest cases I have known.

I have talked with a number of the rebel prisoners. You have no idea what innocent, inoffensive men most of them seem to be; a great many are mere boys; there are some old men, too, with humped backs. Scarcely any of them seem to have any idea of what they are fighting for, and they were almost all forced into the army. I talked with one -poor little fellow from Georgia who had received a severe wound; he could not have been more than sixteen years old. He said that all he wanted was to get into one of the hospitals at the North; that he had been abused and knocked around ever since he had been in the army, and that the first kind treatment he had received and the first kind words he had heard were from our men. He expected to be bayoneted as soon as we came up. The more I see of battle fields convinces me that instances of cruelty to the wounded are extremely rare, and that they are treated, almost universally, with kindness by the men of both sides. When we crossed the field, we drove the rebels from where their wounded were lying everywhere; but our men took the greatest pains not to touch them or hurt them in any way, although sometimes it was almost impossible to avoid it. And when we halted, the men gave almost every drop from their canteens to the poor rebels. The idea that a soldier could ever bring himself to bayoneting a wounded man, strikes me now as almost absurd; it may have been done during this war, but I don't believe it.

Our wounded at Cedar Mountain were treated with the greatest kindness by the rebels; they gave them plenty of water and built shelters to protect them from the sun in many cases. This making out the Southerners to be a lot of cut throats is perfect nonsense; their leaders give a great many harsh orders, but the soldiers are not responsible for them.

I wonder if R. knows that his class-mate and friend, Breck Parkman, was killed at the battle of Sharpsburgh, the other day. He was on some general's staff and was probably killed by the fire of our brigade. Charley Horton saw a rebel surgeon who told him of it.

I believe that we are in quite a permanent camp now. It must be so, I think, for the whole army has endured a hard campaign of six months and must have rest; neither men nor horses can hold out forever. Then we have our recruits to make soldiers of, and the new regiments need any amount of drill. But there is another thing also true, that we have only got two months more in which any work can be done before we go into winter quarters.

The best news that we have heard lately is that Harry Russell is at liberty and exchanged; we hope soon to have him back here with us. There is no one I feel more pity for than Major Savage; we heard that he had lost a leg and would probably lose one arm; I don't believe he can live through it. He is one of the finest men I ever knew; nothing coarse or rough about him. He had a very delicate constitution, but was so plucky that he would do his work when a great many in his situation would have been on the sick list. He was one of my intimate friends, and had been particularly so during the last few months before Cedar Mountain.

Captain Quincy is at last heard from, it seems, badly wounded and a prisoner at Staunton. I doubt whether he or Major Savage ever will rejoin the regiment again to do duty with it; if that is the case, Captain Cogswell will become Lieutenant-Colonel, and Mudge will be Major. I shall be third Captain and shall have the colors. No one in our regiment can complain that he has not had promotion enough to satisfy him during the last few months. You will be pleased, I think, to know that a few of us have now got a first-rate “mess” in working order. It consists of Bob Shaw, Lieutenants Oakey, John Fox, Tom Fox, Abbott and myself. We have a really good cook, who can make good coffee, cook eggs in any way very nicely, and also make pies and puddings; to roast and broil or stew is child's play to him, and although our cooking materials are of the most limited description, we have not, since we have been this side of the Potomac, had a poor meal.

We found it, in our last campaign, to be an unmistakable fact, that a horse couldn't stand as much marching as a man; it got to be a common remark among the men on our march from Culpepper here, as we passed the dead or dying animals which had been abandoned, “There, we've killed one more horse; bring on some fresh ones, we're good for a few more yet.”

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 90

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, July 12, 1862

Camp Near Warrenton,

July 12, 1862.

Last Sunday our division broke camp, and after a tedious day's march, accomplished only about five miles, the whole day being used up getting the wagon train across the Shenandoah. The weather was fearfully hot, equal to the famous eighth, last July. When we formed line before going into camp, many men fell fainting in the ranks.

Monday, we made an early start, and crossed the Blue Ridge through Chester Gap. The scenery was beautiful, but the weather was fearful; we camped for the night in a fine wood near the village of Flint Hill. Next morning we went on, five miles farther, to near Amesville. We stayed there until yesterday, when we marched to this camp, two miles west of Warrenton. All along our route, the men have almost subsisted on cherries and blackberries, both growing in the greatest profusion here; the men would fill their quart dippers in less than ten minutes.

We have got into a new country in appearance; the mountains have entirely disappeared and given place to splendid, great rolling hills and valleys, with beautiful woods scattered over them. The views that you get in this State are certainly wonderful in their extent. From the top of a comparatively slight elevation you can see for a distance of twenty miles all about you. I think that there is to be a large army concentrated here, and that, then, we are to move “On to Richmond,” by the present indications; there is already considerable force here and it is increasing.

I rode into Warrenton yesterday with Bob Shaw and Dr. Stone; we found the place a great improvement on most southern towns. There are some very pretty houses and well kept lawns and gardens in the vicinity. We took tea at the “Warren Green Hotel,” regaling ourselves on iced milk and corn-bread, finishing the evening by smoking our cigars on the piazza. Just as we were coming away, Charley Horton arrived with his General; it was a great mutual surprise to us and a very pleasant one. We have received orders to-day to turn in all tents except a limited number for the officers, to send away all trunks, each officer to keep only a small valise and roll of blankets. Regiments, etc., are also to keep constantly on hand ten days' rations, so you see we are all ready for a long march; don't care how soon it comes if it carries us towards Richmond! I am acting Adjutant for the present, but shall not be appointed, as Colonel Andrews says the time will be too short before I get my promotion, to make it worth while.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 70-2