Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Thursday, May 26, 1864

At 7 o'clock, another man had been shot, lay near the creek. Brisk showers in the night; the day is steadily hot. Rumor that 4,000 are to be sent to Cahawba, Ala. Some of Siegel's men arrived reporting a fight with Breckenridge, in the Shenandoah Valley, in which we got the worst. Another sentinel fires into camp this morning with what effect I do not learn.

About 125 negroes are here who were taken in the battle of Oolustee, Fla. When brought here there were 200, 75 of whom have died since March. Five hundred white Union soldiers were taken at the same time. The white officers commanding the negroes were not allowed the usual courtesies of war and were turned in here. The most prominent of these was Albert Bogle, a major in the 8th U. S. colored regiment to which they belonged. He was severely wounded. No attention was paid to the wound by Confederate surgeons who claimed to be acting under military orders. While on his way, between here and Macon in a box car, suffering from his wound, at one of the stations a Confederate officer fired two shots into the car seemingly designed for him. He is an intelligent young man and bears these abuses with a dignified composure; is still suffering from his wound, but is now improving. He regards their attitude towards him as a fair exhibition of the insane vindicativeness of some Southerners and their extreme rashness on the negro question. These 200 colored men were put into squads and put under charge of white Unionists taken at the same time and had been doing Rebel work outside, which, it is claimed, was to keep up the prison, but some of which is said to be on fortifications. Major Oberly says that none of the negroes who were wounded when taken, received medical attention, and died rapidly after being put in. The Confederates boast a fine rifle battery planted on the ridge commanding this prison, captured at the same time. A few days ago a white sergeant, while waiting at the gate to go out with a squad of negroes on Rebel detail, was shot by the guard, and immediately killed, the guard pressing his gun against his victim's breast, there being no apparent provocation for the outrage.

This Southern insanity on the color question is their sole reason for refusing exchange of prisoners. These negroes appear to have an intelligent understanding of the issues involved in this contest, often more so than some of our own people; for I must confess that here are men of every type of ignorance, vicious and innocent, that can exist under Northern civilization, as well as the better class; some of the meanest outlaws found in our cities, renegades from Canada, a plenty who are fit tools in the hands of scoundrels at the head of raiding gangs who seek to perpetuate damnable careers; some who are naturally good but are easily duped, under existing conditions, to join in evil pursuits. In an assemblage like this, promiscuously drawn from a large country, if all were honest men it would be strange indeed. But as I have thus spoken I will say that in no community of like number is there more patriotic zeal, manhood, virtue and intelligence than exist here.

The raiders are out tonight before dark; assaulted a man near the gate and robbed him, it is said, of a $100. Others interfere in his behalf and a desperate fight ensues which is checked by the guard who threatened to fire into the crowd and the thieves got away with the cash. Another hub-bub soon occurs.

A fellow is caught stealing a pair of shoes and after a squabble, is tied up. No rations today.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 62-4

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 16, 1861

I am still at Barnum's, and having transferred my sick to the charge of Mr. S., I have a little more time to think, and to journalize my thoughts. I have looked around a little to-day, and my observations have almost made me wish I had no country. When every right which freemen hold dear is at stake, to see men calculating the pecuniary cost of preserving them, sickens the heart, and shakes our confidence in human nature. When the poorer classes are laboring day and night, and exposing their lives in the cause of that government on which the rich lean for protection in the possession of their wealth, to see these loud mouthed patriotic capitalists cheating them in the very clothes they wear to battle, the soul revolts at the idea of human nature civilized into a great mass of money-makers. May we not expect, ere long, that these same patriots will be found opposing the war because it will require a tax on the riches which they shall have amassed from it, to defray its expenses? We shall see.

There must be great imbecility too, somewhere, in the management of our affairs. We are 20,000,000 of people fighting against 6,000,000.* We boast that we are united as one man, whilst our enemies are divided. Congress has voted men and money ad libitum. We boast of our hundreds of thousands of soldiers in the field, whilst the rebel army is far inferior. Yet Sumter yielded to the superiority of numbers. Pickens dares not venture out of her gates, on account of the hosts surrounding her. At Big Bethel we fought against great odds in numbers. At Martinsburg we were as one to three. At Bull Run the united forces of Beauregard and Johnston bore down on and almost annihilated our little force; whilst even in the west we see the brave Lyon sacrificed, and Sigel retreating before superior numbers. And yet we seem insecure even in the defences of our great cities. We are in daily apprehension of an attack on Washington. Baltimore is without an army. St. Louis is in danger, and even Cairo defended by a handful of men compared to the number threatening to attack her. Surely the god of battles cannot have made himself familiar to our leaders.

_______________

* I assume that the slave population are not of those against whom we fight.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 15-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: July 19, 1864

A steady, gentle rain from 8 A.M. till 4 P.M.

A dispatch from Gen. Hood, who relieves Gen. Johnston, was received to-day. It was in cipher, and I did not learn the contents.

I strove in vain to-day to buy a few cabbage seed!

The following is a copy of a letter received from Gen. Lee, his locality not indicated, but from the date, he must be near the city:

HEADQUARTERS, ARMY NORTHERN VIRGINIA,        

17th July, 1864.

Hon. SECRETARY OF WAR, RICHMOND.

SIR:— I have received a dispatch from Gen. Early, dated at Leesburg on the 15th inst. On the 8th he crossed South Mountain, leaving Sigel at Maryland Heights. On the 9th he reached Frederick, and in the afternoon attacked and routed the enemy, ten thousand strong, under Wallace, at Monocacy Junction. The next day he moved on Washington, and arrived in front of the fortifications around that city on the 11th. The defenses were found very strong, and were not attacked. After a reconnoissance on the night of the 12th, he withdrew, and crossed the Potomac at White's Ford on the 14th, bringing off everything safely and in good order. He reports the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad to have been cut in several places, and severely damaged. The bridges over Gunpowder River, Northern Central and Philadelphia Railroads were burned, and the connection between Washington and Baltimore cut by Johnson's cavalry. The 6th corps (Federal) had arrived at Washington, and it was reported that other parts of Grant's army had reached there, but of the latter he was not certain. Hunter had passed Williamsport, and was moving toward Frederick. Gen. Early states that his loss was light.

I am, with great respect,

Your obed't servant.

[Not signed.]

Custis walked with Lieut. Bell last evening a mile from Hanover Junction to the battle-field of last month (just a month ago), and beheld some of the enemy still unburied! They fell very near our breastworks.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 251-2

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: July 9, 1864

Dry and pleasant.

We have a rumor to-day of the success of a desperate expedition from Wilmington, N. C., to Point Lookout, Md., to liberate the prisoners of war (20,000) confined there and to arm them. If this be confirmed, the prisoners will probably march upon Washington City, and co-operate with Gen. Early, who has taken Martinsburg (with a large supply of stores), and at last accounts had driven Sigel back to Washington, and on the 6th inst. was (by Northern accounts) at Hagerstown, Md. Much excitement prevails there. Lincoln has called for the militia of the surrounding States, etc.

We have British accounts of the sinking of the ALABAMA, near Cherbourg, by the United States steamer Kearsarge, but Semmes was not taken, and his treasure, etc. had been deposited in France.

 SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 246

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 16, 1864

Warm-sunshine and light showers.

Memorable day-not yet decided at 2 P.M. Early this morning Gen. Beauregard attacked the enemy on the south side of the river, and by 9 A.M. he had sent over to the city Gen. Heckman and 840 prisoners, the entire 27th Massachusetts Regiment. Subsequently it is said 400 were sent over. By 12 m. the firing had receded out of hearing from the city, and messengers report that the enemy were being driven back rapidly. Hon. Geo. Davis, Attorney-General (from North Carolina), told me that Gen. Whiting was coming up from Petersburg, in the enemy's rear, with 13,000 men. So, at this hour, the prospects are glorious.

Gen. Pickett has been relieved—indisposition. Brig.-Gen. Barton has also been relieved, for some cause arising out of the failure to capture the raiders on this side the river.

Gens. Bragg and Pemberton made an inspection of the position of the enemy, down the river, yesterday, and made rather a cheerless report to the President. They are both supposed to be inimical to Gen. Beauregard, who seems to be achieving such brilliant success.

The President rode over to Beauregard's headquarters this morning. Some fear he will embarrass the general; others say he is near the field, prepared to fly, if it be lost. In truth, if we were defeated, it might be difficult for him to return to the city.

Gen. Breckenridge has defeated Sigel in the Shenandoah Valley.

Gen. Lee dispatches that he had no fighting Saturday and Sunday. To day Grant is retiring his right wing, but advancing his left east of Spottsylvania Court House, where Lee's headquarters are still established.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 212-3

Lieutenant-General Ulysses S. Grant to Major-General George G. Meade, April 9, 1864

CULPEPER COURT-HOUSE, VA.,                       

April 9, 1864.

Maj. Gen. G. G. MEADE,

Commanding Army of the Potomac:

For information, and as instructions to govern your preparations for the coming campaign, the following is communicated confidentially, for your own perusal alone:

So far as practicable, all the armies are to move together and toward one common center. Banks has been instructed to turn over the guarding of the Red River to General Steele and to the navy, to abandon Texas with the exception of the Rio Grande, and to concentrate all the force he can—not less than 25,000 men—to move on Mobile. This he is to do without reference to any other movements. From the scattered condition of his command, however, he cannot possibly get it together to leave New Orleans before the 1st of May, if so soon.

Sherman will move at the same time you do, or two or three days in advance, Joe Johnston's army being his objective point and the heart of Georgia his ultimate aim. If successful, he will secure the line from Chattanooga to Mobile, with the aid of Banks.

Sigel cannot spare troops from his army to re-enforce either of the great armies, but he can aid them by moving directly to his front. This he has been directed to do, and is now making preparations for it. Two columns of his command will move south at the same time with the general move, one from Beverly, from 10,000 to 12,000 strong, under Major-General Ord; the other from Charleston, W. Va., principally cavalry, under Brigadier-General Crook. The former of these will endeavor to reach the Tennessee and Virginia Railroad about south of Covington, and if found practicable will work eastward to Lynchburg and return to its base by way of the Shenandoah Valley or join you. The other will strike at Saltville, Va., and come eastward to join Ord. The cavalry from Ord's command will try to force a passage southward; if they are successful in reaching the Virginia and Tennessee Railroad, to cut the main lines of the road connecting Richmond with all the South and Southwest.

Gillmore will join Butler with about 10,000 men from South Carolina. Butler can reduce his garrison so as to take 23,000 men into the field directly to his front. The force will be commanded by Maj. Gen. W. F. Smith. With Smith and Gillmore, Butler will seize City Point and operate against Richmond from the south side of the river. His movement will be simultaneous with yours.

Lee's army will be your objective point. Wherever Lee goes, there you will go also. The only point upon which I am now in doubt is whether it will be better to cross the Rapidan above or below him. Each plan presents great advantages over the other, with corresponding objections. By crossing above, Lee is cut off from all chance of ignoring Richmond and going north on a raid: but if we take this route all we do must be done while the rations we start with hold out; we separate from Butler, so that he cannot be directed how to co-operate. By the other route, Brandy Station can be used as a base of supplies until another is secured on the York or James River. These advantages and objections I will talk over with you more fully than I can write them.

Burnside, with a force of probably 25,000 men, will re-enforce you. Immediately upon his arrival, which will be shortly after the 20th instant, I will give him the defense of the road from Bull Run as far south as we wish to hold it. This will enable you to collect all your strength about Brandy Station and to the front.

There will be naval co-operations on the James River, and transports and ferries will be provided, so that should Lee fall back into his intrenchments at Richmond Butler's force and yours will be a unit, or at least can be made to act as such.

What I would direct, then, is that you commence at once reducing baggage to the very lowest possible standard. Two wagons to a regiment of 500 men is the greatest number that should be allowed for all baggage, exclusive of subsistence stores and ordnance stores. One wagon to brigade and one to division headquarters is sufficient, and about two to corps headquarters.

Should by Lee's right flank be our route, you will want to make arrangements for having supplies of all sorts promptly forwarded to White House, on the Pamunkey. Your estimates for this contingency should be made at once. If not wanted there, there is every probability they will be wanted on the James River or elsewhere.

If Lee's left is turned, large provision will have to be made for ordnance stores. I would say not much short of 500 rounds of infantry ammunition would do. By the other, half the amount would be sufficient.

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 33 (Serial No. 60), p. 827-9

Diary of Gideon Welles: Wednesday, July 6, 1864

Admiral Porter called on me to-day direct from his command. Had a long interview on his affairs.

Received dispatches to-day from Captain Winslow of the Kearsarge relative to sinking the Alabama. Wrote congratulatory letter. There is great rejoicing throughout the country over this success, which is universally and justly conceded a triumph over England as well as over the Rebels. In my first draft, I made a point or two, rather too strong perhaps, against England and the mercenary, piratical spirit of Semmes, who had accumulated chronometers.

While our people generally award me more credit than I deserve in this matter, a malevolent partisan spirit exhibits itself in some, which would find fault with me because this battle did not sooner take place. These assaults disturb me less, perhaps, than they ought; they give me very little uneasiness because I know them to be groundless. Violent attacks have been made upon the Department and myself for the reason that our naval vessels were not efficient, had no speed; but in the account of the battle, the Kearsarge is said, by way of lessening the calamity, to have had greater steaming power than the Alabama, and to have controlled the movement. Our large smooth-bore guns, the Dahlgrens, have been ridiculed and denounced by the enemies of the Navy Department, but the swift destruction of the Alabama is now imputed to the great guns which tore her in pieces.

A summer raid down the valley of the Shenandoah by the Rebels and the capture of Harper’s Ferry are exciting matters, and yet the War Department is disinclined to communicate the facts. Of course, I will not ask. A few words from Stanton about “cursed mistakes of our generals," loss of stores that had been sent forward, bode disaster. General Sigel is beaten and not the man for the command given him, I apprehend. He is always overwhelmed and put on the run. It is represented that the Rebel army is in large force, 30,000 strong, under Ewell. We always have big scares from that quarter and sometimes pretty serious realities. I can hardly suppose Ewell there with such a command without the knowledge of Grant, and I should suppose we would hear of the movement of such a body from other sources. But the military authorities seem not to know of them.

I have sometimes thought that Lee might make a sudden dash in the direction of Washington or above, and inflict great injury before our troops could interfere, or Grant move a column to protect the city. But likely Grant has thought and is prepared for this; yet he displays little strategy or invention.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 2: April 1, 1864 — December 31, 1866, p. 67-8

Captain Charles Francis Adams, Jr., to Charles Francis Adams Sr., August 5, 1864

H.Q. Cav’y Escort, A. of P.               

Before Petersburg, August 5, 1864

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

PHYSICALLY, since I last wrote, I'm glad to say I have picked up amazingly. I have at last shaken off my jaundice and have recovered a white man's looks, my appetite is amazing and I am building up. In fact I have weathered my danger and do not look for any further trouble. Ward Frothingham too has been sent home. His regiment was smashed all to pieces in the assault the other day. The Colonel, Gould, had a thigh shattered, the Lieutenant Colonel killed, and so on. As for Ward, it was the hardest kind of work helping him, for he could n't help himself. Finally however he was sent down to City Point and there gave Dalton my note, and Dalton had him shipped to New York before he could make up his mind as to whether he wanted to go there or not. So he's safe and at home.

Here since I last wrote, too, Burnside has exploded his mine and we have again just failed to take Petersburg. The papers, I see, are full of that mishap and every one is blaming every one, just as though it did any good to cry and quarrel over spilled milk. I did not see the mine exploded, though most of my officers did and they describe it as a most beautiful and striking spectacle — an immense column of debris, mixed with smoke and flame, shooting up in the form of a wheat sheaf some hundred and fifty feet, and then instantly followed by the roar of artillery. At first, and until ten o'clock, rumors came in very favorably — we had carried this and that and were advancing. At about ten I rode out to see what was going on. The fight then was pretty much over. I rode up to the parallels and dismounted and went towards the front. The heat was intense and they were bringing in the wounded, mostly blacks, in great numbers. Very little firing was going on, though occasionally shot went zipping by. Very speedily I began to be suspicious of our success. Our soldiers didn't look or act to my mind like men who had won a victory. There was none of that elation and excitement among the wounded, none of that communicative spirit among the uninjured which always marks a success. I was very soon satisfied of this and so, after walking myself into a tremendous heat and seeing nothing but a train of wounded men, I concluded that I didn't like the sound of bullets and so came home.

My suspicions proved correct. As you know we had been repulsed. How was it? In the papers you'll see all kinds of stories and all descriptions of reasons, but here all seem to have settled down to certain results on which all agree, and certain others on which all quarrel. It is agreed that the thing was a perfect success, except that it did not succeed; and the only reason it did not succeed was that our troops behaved shamefully. They advanced to the crater made by the explosion and rushed into it for cover and nothing could get them out of it. These points being agreed on then begins the bickering. All who dislike black troops shoulder the blame onto them — not that I can find with any show of cause. They seem to have behaved just as well and as badly as the rest and to have suffered more severely. This Division, too, never had really been under fire before, and it was a rough breaking in for green troops of any color. The 9th Corps .and Burnside came in for a good share of hard sayings, and, in fact, all round is heard moaning and wrath, and a scape-goat is wanted.

Meanwhile, as I see it, one person alone has any right to complain and that person is Grant. I should think his heart would break. He had out-generaled Lee so, he so thoroughly deserved success, and then to fail because his soldiers wouldn't fight? It was too bad. All the movements I mentioned in my last turned out to be mere feints and as such completely successful. Deceived by Grant's movement towards Malvern Hill, Lee had massed all his troops in that vicinity, so that when the mine exploded, the rebels had but three Divisions in front of the whole Army of the Potomac. Grant ordered a rapid countermarch of his cavalry from Malvern Hill to the extreme left, to outflank and attack the enemy at daylight, simultaneously with the assault in front. The cavalry did not reach here until the assault had failed. The march was difficult, but it was possible and it was not accomplished. Whose fault was this? Then came the assault, which was no assault, and once more Lee, completely outgeneraled, surprised and nearly lost, was saved by the bad behavior of our troops as in June, and on the same ground and under the same circumstances, he was almost miraculously saved by the stubborn bravery of his own. I find but one satisfaction in the whole thing. Here now, as before in June, whether he got it or no, Grant deserved success, and, where this is the case, in spite of fortune, he must ultimately win it. Twice Lee has been saved in spite of himself. Let him look to it, for men are not always lucky.

If you are curious to know where I myself place the blame, I must freely say on Burnside, and add, that in my own opinion I don't know anything about it. For the whole thing, Burnside's motions and activities deserve great credit. While others were lying idle, he was actively stirring round to see what he could do. The mine was his idea and his work, and he carried it through; no one but himself had any faith in it. So far all was to his credit. Then came the assault. Grant did his part of the work and deceived Lee. Burnside organized his storming column and, apparently, he couldn't have organized it worse. They say the leading brigade was chosen by lot. If so, what greater blunder could have been committed? At any rate a white brigade was put in to lead which could not have been depended on to follow. This being so, the result was what might have been expected. In such a case everything depended on the storming party; for, if they would lead, the column would follow. Volunteers might have been called for, a picked regiment might have been designated; but, no, Burnside sent in a motley crowd of white and black, heavy artillery and dismounted cavalry, and they wouldn't come up to the scratch. So endeth the second lesson before Petersburg.

As to the future, expect no light from me. I do not expect that anything will be done here for six weeks to come. Grant must hold his own, defend Washington and see what Sherman can accomplish, before he really attempts anything heavy here. The news from Sherman is so good, and Hood seems so completely to be playing our game that I think the rebel strength in that region bids fair to be used up. Lee can hold us in check, but, unless we blunder egregiously, he cannot replenish his ranks, and by autumn Grant can resume operations with deadly effect from this base. This I fear is the best view which can be taken of the present attitude of affairs. We have been so unfortunate here and our military lights about Washington — Hunter, Wallace, Halleck, Sigel and the rest — have made such a mess of our affairs in their region, that I don't see but what the army here must, for the present, be reduced to one purely of observation. . . .

As to my new regiment, I see myself gazetted but have as yet received no commission or official announcement. Meanwhile I am maturing my plans for the regiment and shall develop them in a somewhat stately paper distinguished by unusual ability even for me and addressed to Governor Andrew, the which I shall tackle as soon as I have disposed of you. For the rest, I wait here and kill time. There is nothing more for me to do here. This squadron is as contented, as well disciplined and in as good order as I know how to put it, and accordingly I must move or stand still. . . .

SOURCE: Charles Francis Adams, A Cycle of Adams Letters, 1861-1865, Volume 2, p. 170-5

Major-General Henry W. Halleck to Major-General George B. McClellan, December 2, 1861

CONFIDENTIAL.]

SAINT LOUIS, MO., [December 2,] 1861.

Maj. Gen. GEORGE B. MCCLELLAN,

Commander-in- Chief, Washington, D.C.:

GENERAL: As stated in a former communication, Brig. Gen. W. T. Sherman, on reporting here for duty, was ordered to inspect troops (three divisions) at Sedalia and vicinity, and if, in the absence of General Pope, he deemed there was danger of an immediate attack, he was authorized to assume the command. He did so, and commenced the movements of the troops in a manner which I did not approve, and countermanded. I also received information from officers there that General S[herman] was completely "stampeded" and was "stampeding" the army. I therefore immediately ordered him to this place, and yesterday gave him a leave of absence for twenty days to visit his family in Ohio. I am satisfied that General S[herman's] physical and mental system is so completely broken by labor and care as to render him for the present entirely unfit for duty. Perhaps a few weeks' rest may restore him. I am satisfied that in his present condition it would be dangerous to give him a command here. Can't you send me a brigadier-general of high rank capable of commanding a corps d'armée of three or four divisions? Say Heintzelman, F. J. Porter, Franklin, or McCall. Those of lower grades would be ranked by others here. Grant cannot be taken from Cairo, nor Curtis from this place at present. Sigel is sick, and Prentiss operating against insurgents in Northern Missouri. I dare not intrust the "mustangs" with high commands in the face of the enemy.

Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

 H. W. HALLECK,               

Major-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 52, Part 1 (Serial No. 109), p. 198

Diary of William Howard Russell: July 8, 1861

I hired a horse at a livery stable, and rode out to Arlington Heights, at the other side of the Potomac, where the Federal army is encamped, if not on the sacred soil of Virginia, certainly on the soil of the District of Columbia, ceded by that State to Congress for the purposes of the Federal Government. The Long Bridge which spans the river, here more than a mile broad, is an ancient wooden and brick structure, partly of causeway, and partly of platform, laid on piles and uprights, with drawbridges for vessels to pass. The Potomac, which in peaceful times is covered with small craft, now glides in a gentle current over the shallows unbroken by a solitary sail. The “rebels” have established batteries below Mount Vernon, which partially command the river, and place the city in a state of blockade.

As a consequence of the magnificent conceptions which were entertained by the founders regarding the future dimensions of their future city, Washington is all suburb and no city. The only difference between the denser streets and the remoter village-like environs, is that the houses are better and more frequent, and the roads not quite so bad in the former. The road to the Long Bridge passes by a four-sided shaft of blocks of white marble, contributed, with appropriate mottoes, by the various States, as a fitting monument to Washington. It is not yet completed, and the materials lie in the field around, just as the Capitol and the Treasury are surrounded by the materials for their future and final development. Further on is the red, and rather fantastic, pile of the Smithsonian Institute, and then the road makes a dip to the bridge, past some squalid little cottages, and the eye reposes on the shore of Virginia, rising in successive folds, and richly wooded, up to a moderate height from the water. Through the green forest leaves gleams the white canvas of the tents, and on the highest ridge westward rises an imposing structure, with a portico and colonnade in front, facing the river, which is called Arlington House, and belongs, by descent, through Mr. Custis, from the wife of George Washington, to General Lee, Commander-in-Chief of the Confederate army. It is now occupied by General McDowell as his head-quarters, and a large United States flag floats from the roof, which shames even the ample proportions of the many stars and stripes rising up from the camps in the trees.

At the bridge there was a post of volunteer soldiers. The sentry on duty was sitting on a stump, with his firelock across his knees, reading a newspaper. He held out his hand for my pass, which was in the form of a letter, written by General Scott, and ordering all officers and soldiers of the army of the Potomac, to permit me to pass freely without let or hindrance, and recommending me to the attention of Brigadier-General McDowell and all officers under his orders. “That'll do; you may go,” said the sentry. “What pass is that, Abe?” inquired a non-commissioned officer. “It's from General Scott, and says he's to go wherever he likes.” “I hope you'll go right away to Richmond, then, and get Jeff Davis's scalp for us,” said the patriotic sergeant.

At the other end of the bridge a weak tete de pont, commanded by a road-work farther on, covered the approach, and turning to the right I passed through a maze of camps, in front of which the various regiments, much better than I expected to find them, broken up into small detachments, were learning elementary drill. A considerable number of the men were Germans, and the officers were for the most part in a state of profound ignorance of company drill, as might be seen by their confusion and inability to take their places when the companies faced about, or moved from one flank to the other. They were by no means equal in size or age, and, with some splendid exceptions, were inferior to the Southern soldiers. The camps were dirty, no latrines — the tents of various patterns — but on the whole they were well castrametated.

The road to Arlington House passed through some of the finest woods I have yet seen in America, but the axe was? already busy amongst them, and the trunks of giant oaks were prostrate on the ground. The tents of the General and his small staff were pitched on the little plateau in which stood the house, and from it a very striking and picturesque view of the city, with the White House, the Treasury, the Post-Office, Patent-Office,' and Capitol, was visible, and a wide spread of country, studded with tents also as far as the eye could reach, towards Maryland. There were only four small tents for the whole of the head-quarters of the grand army of the Potomac, and in front of one we found General McDowell, seated in a chair, examining some plans and maps. His personal staff, as far as I could judge, consisted of Mr. Clarence Brown, who came over with me, and three other officers, but there were a few connected with the departments at work in the rooms of Arlington House. I made some remark on the subject to the General, who replied that there was great jealousy on the part of the civilians respecting the least appearance of display, and that as he was only a brigadier, though he was in command of such a large army, he was obliged to be content with a brigadier's staff. Two untidy-looking orderlies, with ill-groomed horses, near the house, were poor substitutes for the force of troopers one would see in attendance on a General in Europe, but the use of the telegraph obviates the necessity of employing couriers. I went over some of the camps with the General. The artillery is the most efficient-looking arm of the service, but the horses are too light, and the number of the different calibres quite destructive to continuous efficiency in action. Altogether I was not favorably impressed with what I saw, for I had been led by reiterated statements to believe to some extent the extravagant stories of the papers, and expected to find upwards of 100,000 men in the highest state of efficiency, whereas there were not more than a third of the number, and those in a very incomplete, ill-disciplined state. Some of these regiments were called out under the President's proclamation for three months only, and will soon have served their full time, and as it is very likely they will go home, now the bubbles of national enthusiasm have all escaped, General Scott is urged not to lose their services, but to get into Richmond before they are disbanded.

It would scarcely be credited, were I not told it by General McDowell, that there is no such thing procurable as a decent map of Virginia. He knows little or nothing of the country before him, more than the general direction of the main roads, which are bad at the best; and he can obtain no information, inasmuch as the enemy are in full force all along his front, and he has not a cavalry officer capable of conducting it reconnoissance, which would be difficult enough in the best hands, owing to the dense woods which rise up in front of his lines, screening the enemy completely. The Confederates have thrown up very heavy batteries at Manassas, about thirty miles away, where the railway from the West crosses the line to Richmond, and I do not think General McDowell much likes the look of them, but the cry for action is so strong the President cannot resist it.

On my way back I rode through the woods of Arlington, and came out on a quadrangular earthwork, called Fort Corcoran, which is garrisoned by the Sixty-ninth Irish, and commands the road leading to an aqueduct and horse-bridge over the Potomac. The regiment is encamped inside the fort, which would be a slaughter-pen if exposed to shell-fire. The streets were neat, the tents protected from the sun by shades of evergreens and pine boughs. One little door, like that of an icehouse, half buried in the ground, was opened by one of the soldiers, who was showing it to a friend, when my attention was more particularly attracted by a sergeant, who ran forward in great dudgeon, exclaiming “Dempsey! Is that you going into the ‘magazine’ wid yer pipe lighted?” I rode away with alacrity.

In the course of my ride I heard occasional dropping shots in camp. To my looks of inquiry, an engineer officer said quietly, “They are volunteers shooting themselves.” The number of accidents from the carelessness of the men is astonishing; in every day's paper there is an account of deaths and wounds caused by the discharge of firearms in the tents.

Whilst I was at Arlington House, walking through the camp attached to head-quarters, I observed a tall, red-bearded officer seated on a chair in front of one of the tents, who bowed as I passed him, and as I turned to salute him, my eye was caught by the apparition of a row of Palmetto buttons down his coat. One of the officers standing by said, “Let me introduce you to Captain Taylor, from the other side.” It appears that he came in with a flag of truce, bearing a despatch from Jefferson Davis to President Lincoln, countersigned by General Beauregard at Manassas. Just as I left Arlington, a telegraph was sent from General Scott to send Captain Taylor, who rejoices in the name of Tom, over to his quarters.

The most absurd rumors were flying about the staff, one of whom declared very positively that there was going to be a compromise, and that Jeff Davis had made an overture for peace. The papers are filled with accounts of an action in Missouri, at a place called Carthage, between the Federals commanded by Colonel Sigel, consisting for the most part of Germans, and the Confederates under General Parsons, in which the former were obliged to retreat, although it is admitted the State troops were miserably armed, and had most ineffective artillery, whilst their opponents had every advantage in both respects, and were commanded by officers of European experience. Captain Taylor had alluded to the news in a jocular way to me, and said, “I hope you will tell the people in England we intend to whip the Lincolnites in the same fashion wherever we meet them,” a remark which did not lead me to believe there was any intention on the part of the Confederates to surrender so easily.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, Vol. 1, p. 393-7

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Horace Barnard, September 28, 1862

79th Regiment,

Near Antietam Creek,

Sept. 28th, 1862.

My dear Horace:

Here we are, still resting at the mouth of this muddy little stream now famous and historical. Ten days have gone since the battle and yet there are no signs of bustle and busy preparation aiming at the destruction of our dirty foes on the other side of the river. I say, “Forward!” To think of hesitating before such a pitiful crew as those we have so lately beaten! You perceive our recent successes are making us forget Manassas. But McClellan is cautious, and, without intending any disparagement, does not possess that lightning rapidity which characterized the “old Napoleon.” Yet we of the Army are jealous of McClellan's reputation and fear the possibility of losing him. Not indeed because we believe him equal to the command of 600,000 men — we believe him simply the best general we have got, and do not trust the judgment of old Abe in the selection of a new one. Pope, Sigel, Fremont, and the whole batch of our political Generals are objects of honest terror to every soldier in the Union Army. Stevens was a better man than McClellan. His judgment was unerring, his foresight marvellous, his prophecies sure of fulfilment. He had a power to electrify troops, and lift them at the critical moment to a degree of enthusiasm that was inspiration. He could be cautious and crafty, as well as daring. He felt himself born to hold the reins of authority, and grasped them so that the steady hand was felt by the commonest soldier of his command. Soldiers all loved him, and recognized his strength as it were by instinct. He knew how to deal a hard blow, and deal it with rapidity. He never underestimated a difficulty, but his estimates were forestallments of history. What he possessed in an eminent degree was Power — and Power composed of rude strength and natural vigor. What he lacked was comeliness. This, culture could not give him. He needed a grand sphere in which to move. Then he would have been grand. Confined, one could detect what was gnarled and ungainly. The oak is the monarch in the midst of the forest, not in the garden. Among flowers, neat trimmed box shows to the best advantage. There was something about Stevens that offended little souls, and there were many little souls who hated him. He had such a galling way of expressing his detestation at what deserves contempt, that many felt themselves offended thereby. He had many enemies and many friends, but those who knew him best mourn his loss most deeply. The neglect and injustice shown him in his life time broke his heart. He is dead now and at peace.

To-day I received nine letters, the first I have seen in many a day. Some of them are very old, but they afforded a rare treat for all that. In one of them my mother writes she had received a letter from you, in which you wrote that I had glory enough at twenty-four to last me for a life time. Ah, my dear Horace, there was rare irony in that! I acknowledge it. I have had “glory” enough to last me for a life time. I am satisfied with what I've had of the article and am willing in future to dispense with any further accessions. See what a valuable thing it is! A few days ago I enjoyed high favor, I went into fresh battles, and the records show fresh praises from my Commanding Officers. Christ, who commanded a Brigade of five Regiments in the recent battles writes in his report: “While the officers of my command in general conducted themselves well, my special thanks are due to Capt. Lusk for the valuable services he rendered me.” Now for the rewards of service. I have to-day the command of 14 men, six of them old soldiers that grumble, and eight raw recruits who are learning the mysteries of the goose-step. Sic itur ad astra. There's glory for you. I acknowledge I have had enough to satisfy me for the rest of my life. I have not been persecuted in any way. The whole thing is the result of natural causes which could not be avoided. Fortune simply played me a sorry trick. Friends say, “Resign.” But I am not willing to be petulant. If disgusted with “glory,” I believe in a better word, and that is — duty. So I have turned to, tried to stop the grumbling of the old soldiers, and get the recruits to do the goose-step creditably. I want the fighting to go on though. I can't stand it, lying still. I want to fight the thing through, and get out of a mortifying position. After sixteen months of service I trudge around with a corporal's guard, while old friends who have been waiting favorable opportunities at home until now, prancing by me in new regimentals at the heads of Regiments, nod to me familiarly perhaps, or probably pass me unnoticed. There are no vacancies at present in the Field of the 79th Regiment, and yet any day there may be. I am the next eligible candidate at present in the Regiment for promotion, and might get the next vacancy if friends at home were only alive to the necessity of vouching for me in some way, to those who have the power to dispense Commissions. Here I see miners, tailors, carpenters and all sorts of petty tradesmen, who find no difficulty in getting friends to mention their names, and because successful, boast much of their political influence, and yet I, a gentleman with plenty of friends, cannot boast of enough to secure me my just dues in the regular order of seniority. I do not want to be querulous. I do want Uncle Phelps though, if he knows Gov. Morgan, to remind him occasionally that he has a nephew whom Gov. Morgan might remember, &c. Well, my dear Horace, I will say no more. Verhum sat sapienti. I hope one of these days to get home with my duty done, and then I can laugh at my present comical situation. Do write me a long letter. I have heard nothing from you for some months, though this is my third letter. I suppose either yours or mine have been lost. Love to Cousin Lou, Hattie, your mother and the good people on the Hill.

Affec'y. but sadly,

Will.

79th Regt. 1st Brig. 1st Div. gth Army Corps, Washington.

(To be forwarded)

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 214-7

Captain Charles Wright Wills: May 7, 1863

Camp 103d Illinois Infantry, Lagrange, Tenn.,

May 7, 1863.

Isn't the Grierson "raid" glorious? Two other expeditions started from this point and were gone respectively five and ten days each. Although they made good long marches and took about 40 prisoners and 500 animals, still we forget them in looking after Grierson. We have the Rebels well scared in this country. Five thousand men could sweep everything north of Jackson, if they could only hold it. Papers to-day give us the news on the Rappahannock up to the 4th of May, which includes the route of Siegel's Dutchmen and leaves Hooker in what seems to me a close place. Well, he can at worst but fail. What a consolation. General Oglesby wrote to Hurlbut to detail me on his staff General Hurlbut referred the letter through division and brigade headquarters for the letter of my company and on its return to Hurlbut, General Smith objected to my being detailed out of his command. He thought Oglesby might find his staff in his own command. All right! I would like to have been with Old Dick though. I'm on a General Court Martial now. Confound the Court Martials.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 174-5

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, September 4, 1862

Headquarters 1st Div. Reno's Command,

Near Alexandria, Sept. 4th, 1862.

Dear Mother:

Once more, after a lapse of nearly five weeks, am I able to write you again. During this time we have been cut off from all communication with our friends, we have been busily employed, and have suffered much. I have lost my good friend, Genl. Stevens, who has been sacrificed by little men who can poorly fill his place. Whenever anything desperate was to be performed, Stevens and Kearny were always selected, with this difference though, that Stevens rarely was credited with what he did, while Kearny's praises were properly published. On Monday's fight, the General's son and I were walking together in the rear of the 79th Regiment, when Capt. Stevens was wounded. Finding that young Stevens was able to move off without assistance, I continued to follow the Regiment. Soon the General came up on foot. “Have you seen your son?” I asked him. “Yes,” said he, “I know he is wounded,” and then added, “Capt. Lusk, I wish you would pass to the left of the line, and push the men forward in that direction.” I did as I was ordered, and on my return, found the General had been killed, and the troops badly slaughtered. The General you have read was shot while holding the flag of the 79th Regiment in his hand.

There were five shot holding the same flag in about twenty minutes time. I found the sixth man standing almost alone at the edge of some woods still clinging hopelessly to the colors. I drew him back to the crest of a hill a couple of hundred yards back and gathered a few of the 79th about it. Kearny then came riding up, and asked the name of the little band. On being told, he said, “Scotchmen, you must follow me.” They told him they had not a round of ammunition left. “Well,” said he then, “stand where you are and it may be you will be able to assist my men with the bayonet.” The soldierly form moved on, and it too soon was dust. Stevens was a great man and Kearny a courageous soldier. It is not every man of whom this last can be said, though the country may have placed him high in power. I suppose I must not tell all I have seen in the last few days fighting, but I have seen enough to make it no matter of wonder at the extent of our disaster. I have read little truth as yet in the papers, though I see the people are beginning to feel the truth. So long as the interests of our country are entrusted to a lying braggart like Pope, or a foolish little Dutchman like Sigel, we have little reason to hope successfully to compete with an army led by Lee, Johnston and old "Stonewall" Jackson. Carl Schurz, our lately returned minister to Spain, I found blundering horribly. Schenck was a laughable instance of incompetence, and so with others. You must be careful to whom you repeat these things, and yet there is much which it were better were known, for our soldiers are not deceived by lying reports. They feel whom they can trust, and are not willing to fight for men like McDowell and that ilk. McClellan's reappointment gives great satisfaction to the soldiers. Whether right or wrong they believe in him.

I expect to get my back letters to-day, and then what a treat. I am still very much fatigued by the last month, and like to rest all I can.

Good-bye. Kisses and love to all.

Affec'y.,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 180-1

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, August 19, 1862

Headquarters Stevens's Div.

9th Army Corps,

Fredericksburg, Aug. 19th, 1862.

My dearest Mother:

Here we are, occupying a fine house in the pleasant town of Fredericksburg, with the thermometer standing ever so high in the shade among a people whose glances are at zero in the hottest of this summer sunshine. I have seen nothing like this before, except in the single City of Venice where the feeling is so intense toward the German soldiery. Yet it is not strange when one thinks that there are few left beside women. The men are away fighting in the pride of sons of the Old Dominion, and many a family here is clad in sombre colors, for the loss of dear friends who have lost their lives at the hands of “Yankee Invaders.” So a military occupation of a disaffected town is less pleasant than the tented field. We will not remain a great while though. We are now on the eve of great events. God only knows what the morrow has in store for us. I cannot say where I may be when I next write, but continue to direct to Stevens' Division, 9th Army Corps, and the letters will reach me. I am sick at heart in some respects, and utterly weary of the miserable cant and whining of our Northern press. It is time that we assumed a manlier tone. We have heard enough of rebel atrocities, masked batteries, guerillas, and other lying humbugs. Pope's orders are the last unabatable nuisance. Are we alone virtuous, and the enemy demons? Let us look at these highly praised orders of Pope which are to strike a death-blow at rebellion. We are henceforth to live on the enemy's country, and to this as a stern military necessity, I say “Amen!” But mother, do you know what the much applauded practice means? It means to take the little ewe-lamb — the only property of the laborer — it means to force from the widow the cow which is her only source of sustenance. It means that the poor, and the weak, and the helpless are at the mercy of the strong — and God help them! This I say is bad enough, but when papers like the ——, with devilish pertinacity, talk of ill-judged lenity to rebels and call for vigorous measures, it makes every feeling revolt. We want vigorous measures badly enough to save us in these evil times, but not the measures the urges. The last thing needed in our army is the relaxing of the bands of discipline. And yet our Press is urging our soldiers everywhere to help themselves to rebel property, and instead of making our army a glorious means of maintaining liberty, would dissolve it into a wretched band of marauders, murderers, and thieves. If property is to be taken, let the Government take it. That is well — but I would have the man shot who would without authority steal so much as a fence rail, though it were to make the fire to cook his food. I would have no Blenkers and Sigels with their thieving hordes, but a great invincible army like Cromwell's, trusting in God and marching on to victory.

Well, Mother, it is late. I am thankful we are under a commander who is a noble, high-minded, chivalrous man. Honor to Burnside! He is as generous as he is brave! Honor to my own dear commander too, who has a heart to pity as well as the nerve to strike.

Kisses and love in liberal doses, prescribed in liberal doses to his absent loving friends,

By your most Affec.

Dr. Lusk.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 176-8

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: May 30, 1864

Another thousand came to day and from the eastern army. Prison crowded. Men who came are from Siegel's corps in the Shenandoah Valley. The poor deluded mortals never heard of Andersonville before. Well, they hear of it now. Charlie Hudson, from some part of Ohio, took his canteen an hour ago and went to the swamp for water. He has not returned for the very good reason that he was shot while reaching up under the dead line to get the freshest water. Some one has pulled the body out of the water on to dry land where it will stay until to-morrow, when it will be piled with perhaps forty others on the dead wagon, carted off and buried like a dog, And this is the last of poor Charlie, who has enlivened us many an evening with his songs and stories. The Astor House Mess is very sad to-night.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 62

1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: June 9, 1862

Rienzi, Tishomingo Co., Miss., June 9, 1862.

Saturday morning the 5th inst. the colonel and myself started for a little pleasure ride as a relaxation from the many cares and troubles people in this profession are incident to. We started for Corinth, as neither of us had yet visited the place, and plodded along through dust in air and heat — words can't tell how oppressive. We stopped at General Rosecrans about 1 p. m. and stayed and dined with him. The general was in his most pleasant mood and I thought him very engaging and winning in his manner. He told a number of amusing stories and 'twas all very pleasant, until somebody happened to mention General Fremont's name. General Granger was also at the table and the two generals commenced and each tried to outdo the other in — yes, reviling the “bumble-bee catcher.”

They changed the subject over the wine and General Rosecrans became quite enthusiastic and prophetic in his conviction in regard to the war question, settlement thereof, etc. But I couldn't see any remarkable difference between him and the rest of mankind, and the same remark will apply to all that I know of the other generals here. I remember he said that he considered “slavery a vile blot on the face of the earth,” and that unadulterated abolitionism alone was its equal; but I don't claim that the speech showed any remarkable talent. We left him swearing at his A. Q. M. and journeyed on. We luckily met an old acquaintance of the colonel's, a captain in the 1st Regular Infantry, and went with him to his quarters for the night. All the regimental officers quartered together in a very fine house that belongs to a secesh colonel. They were a jolly set of men, and the empty bottles lying around loose when we retired testified strongly thereto. I remember seeing one of them at Point Pleasant, Mo., have a couple of little fights (he commanded a two-gun battery of siege pieces) with a Rebel battery on the opposite shore.

We left Corinth early next morning for Farmington, and as we passed I saw where Major Applington fell. It was as I supposed about one-half mile from Corinth (hardly that) and what I did not know, was within 400 yards of the strongest part of the Rebel fortifications. We lunched at 10 a. m and paid an old lady the modest sum of 50 cents for a piece of cornbread and a glass of buttermilk. She complained bitterly of some of Buell's soldiers killing three of her chickens without paying for them, and just the day before her husband had been to Corinth and received meat, flour, etc., free from the aid society. She had three sons in the Southern Army. At 12 m. we drew rein 25 miles from Corinth at Iuka.

There are a couple of splendid springs in Iuka. One chalybeate, and the other sulphur water, and the town is the neatest I have seen in the country. Snuff-dipping is an universal custom here, and there are only two women in all Iuka that do not practice it. At tea parties, after they have supped, the sticks and snuff are passed round and the dipping commences. Sometimes girls ask their beaux to take a dip with them during a spark. I asked one if it didn't interfere with the old-fashioned habit of kissing. She assured me that it did not in the least, and I marveled. There was only one regiment at Iuka, and they were expecting an attack from the hordes of guerrillas that infest the country all along our front from Memphis to Florence. I stayed at the hotel in town and had just retired (about 11) when crack, crack, two guns went, only about 60 rods from the house. There was a general shaking of the whole building, caused by the sleepers rising en masse and bouncing out on the floors. I thought if there was no fight I wouldn't be fooled, and if there was I couldn't do any good, so I kept cool. 'Twas only a little bushwhacking. A soldier policeman having been shot at from the brush, and he returned the favor by guess. This infantry always thinks the enemy is just out of gunshot of them, and they are three-fourths scared to death all the time. At noon of Monday we left Iuka, rode to Burnsville, a place that I have spoken of in my letters before, as we scouted through it while lying before Corinth. None of our soldiers have camped there yet, and we were the only ones there while we stayed. The colonel took a nap to recover from the heat and fatigue of riding, and I strolled down town to look up some acquaintances I made while scouting. They treated me pretty well, and made me a letter carrier, as many of them had letters to send to their friends who are prisoners. At dark we started for Jacinto, ten miles south, but for so many hills had a splendid ride. 'Twas through the woods, all the way, and over real young mountains. We got to Jacinto at 10 p. m. and concluded to stay all night. I laid down an hour or two, but the fleas were so bad that I got up and stayed up the rest of the night. I walked around the town and stopped at headquarters of the guard and talked with the boys. (They were of Jeff C. Davis's division, of Pea Ridge, Ark., and Siegel.) They all think that Siegel is the only man and hate Davis like the devil. I waked the colonel at 4 p. m. and we started for home. The road from Jacinto, home, was lined with infantry, the whole left wing of our corps being on it. They had no tents but seemed to be preparing the ground for a camp. We got home in time for a little nap before breakfast, both of which I enjoyed very much. We found the garrison much excited about an attack that was expected every hour. The 2d Brigade of Cavalry had been about eight miles in front doing outpost duty, and having been alarmed by rumors had abandoned their camp and retreated to this place. Their sutler gave up his goods to the boys, preferring they should have them free, rather than the enemy. The next day (yesterday morning) a scout was sent out and found their camp just as they had left it. All of which was considered quite a joke on the 2d Brigade. The enemy may come up here and may whip us out, we are scattered so much, but they will have a riotous time of it. All told we had a very pleasant ride, but if we are gobbled up some of these times when riding around without an escort you must not be surprised. I don't think it just the straight way of doing such business, but Charles can go where the colonel dares to, and my preference is for riding as far from a column as possible on several accounts. The colonel is a very interesting companion on such a trip, full of talk, and he has had six years experience on the frontier. I induced a very young lady with a well cracked piano to favor me with some music at Iuka. She sang "The Bonny Blue Flag That Bears a Single Star." It was as near the music we used to hear in the old Presbyterian church at home as you could think, and that's all that kept me from laughing in her face. We celebrated the capture of Richmond on the 4th, but are now trying to forget that we made such fools of ourselves. Damn the telegraphs. We have awful news from Richmond to-day. It would make me sick to write it. I would rather have the army whipped than McClellan.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 98-101

1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: May 11, 1862

Corinth and Hamburg Road, Miss., May 11, 1862.

You remember that in my last I spoke of a reconnoisance our people made on the 8th inst. On the 9th Beauregard returned it with interest, driving our advance back some two miles and almost scaring this wing of the Eagle. He appeared on our left flank, where I think Pope thought it impossible for him to reach, and drove Paine's division from the front like a drove of sheep. Tis said that a charge made by the 2d Iowa Cavalry was the salvation of both of Paine's brigades. The charge, if we hear correctly, was one of the most gallant things of the war. One of our battalions was out yesterday examining our left to see if the Rebels were still there. They found no signs of them, but on their return to camp were fired into by some of General Buford's artillery, and one man killed by a 6-pound solid shot from Company A. There is almost incessant firing along the front but too light and scattering to forbode an immediate fight of itself, although 'twould surprise no one to hear of the dance commencing at any hour. Corinth is a tremendously strong place, very difficult to approach, and holding a force that our officers think much superior to our own. This is kept from the army, though I don't think now that we have more than 80,000 fighting men here. They must have over 100,000, and this conscription act is pouring in reinforcements to them by thousands. But, notwithstanding this, I think the superior discipline of our men will give us a victory when the fight does come. The strongest evidence that I see of Halleck's weakness is his delaying the battle so long We are in distance to strike any day; roads splendid, army in better condition every day than it will be the next day, weather becoming too hot for men to endure much longer, and yet we wait. What for, I don't know, unless 'tis for reinforcements. They say Curtis and Siegel are coming. I hope they'll get here to-night and finish the thing up to-morrow. The weather is taking the vim out of the men remarkably. To-day there is a good stray breeze, and yet a man can hardly get enough of the rarified stuff they call air here to fill his lungs. Plenty of chestnuts in this country. Plenty of hills and plenty of woods but a great scarcity of about everything else. There is no more soil on the earth here than you'll find on any Illinois school house floor, and 'tis a question which would grow the best crops.

The colonel is anxious to have the regiment in the battle when it comes off, while your brother thinks if they can do the work without us he won't be at all angry. I like skirmishing pretty well but am dubious about the fun showing itself so strongly in a battle. I guess I had a dozen shots thrown at me individually on the 8th at from 100 to 450 yards, and I got my return shot nearly every time and some extra ones, but rather think they all got off as well as I did. The carbines are not very correct shooters, and your brother is a ditto, so I have the satisfaction of knowing that I haven’t killed anybody yet.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 88-9

Diary of John Hay: April 28, 1864

Had considerable talk with the President this evening. He understands that the day arranged for Grant’s movement is to be the 2d prox. — Monday. Sherman has asked for a little more time, says that he can't fully come up to his part in the programme before the 5th. Sigel is at work on his.

The stories of Grant’s quarrelling with the Secretary of War are gratuitous lies. Grant quarrels with no one.

The President told a queer story of Meigs. “When McClellan lay at Harrison’s Landing, Meigs came one night to the President and waked him up at the Soldiers' Home to urge upon him the immediate flight of the army from that point — the men to get away on transports, and the horses to be killed, as they could not be saved. Thus often,” says the President, “I, who am not a specially brave man, have had to restore the sinking courage of these professional fighters in critical times.

“When it was proposed to station Halleck in general command, he insisted, to use his own language, on the appointment of a General-in-Chief who should be held responsible for results. We appointed him, and all went well enough until after Pope’s defeat, when he broke down, — nerve and pluck all gone, — and has ever since evaded all possible responsibility, — little more, since that, than a first-rate clerk.”

Granville Moody was here this evening and told a good story about Andy Johnson and his fearful excitement when Buell was proposing to give up Nashville to the enemy. He found him walking up and down the room, supported by two friends. “Moody, I'm glad to see you,” he said. The two friends left, and he and Moody were alone. “We're sold, Moody, we're sold;” fiercely reiterating. “He's a traitor, Moody,” and such. At last, suddenly, “Pray, Moody!” And they knelt down and prayed, Andy joining in the responses like Methodists. After they had done, he said: — “Moody, I feel better. Moody, I'm not a Christian,—no church,—but I believe in God,—in the Bible,—all of it — Moody, but I’ll be damned if Nashville shall be given up.”

The President was much amused by a story I told him of Gurowski.

The venomous old Count says:— “I despise the anti-Lincoln Republicans. I say I go against Lincoln, for he is no fit for be President; dé say dé for one term (holding up one dirty finger) bimeby dé beat Lincoln, den dé for two term (holding up two unclean digits): dé is cowards  and Ass!”

A despatch just received from Cameron stating that the Harrisburgh convention had elected Lincoln delegates to Baltimore properly instructed. The President assents to my going to the field for this campaign if I can be spared from here.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 186-8; See Michael Burlingame and John R. Turner Ettlinger, Editors, Inside Lincoln’s White House,: the complete Civil War Diary of John Hay, p. 191-2 for the full entry.

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Sardis Birchard, September 8, 1862

Camp Fifteen Miles North Of Washington, In

Maryland, September 8, 1862.

Dear Uncle: — I write you about a difficulty I had yesterday .with Major-General Reno, not because it gives me any trouble or anxiety but fearing that false and partial accounts of it may get into the Eastern papers and give you trouble.

As we were camping last night, the general rode into my regiment in a towering passion, using most abusive language to my men for taking a little straw to put on the hard, rough, ploughed ground they were to lie on. I defended the men and in respectful language gave him my opinion of the matter. He gradually softened down and the affair seemed to end pretty well. But the men cheered me, and this he seems to lay up against me. He couples this with a remark I made that, “I trusted our generals would exhibit the same energy in dealing with our foes that they did in the treatment of their friends,” and has talked of putting me in irons, as is said. General Cox, Colonel Scammon, and all the Ohio colonels and troops sustain me fully and justify the cheering, saying the men have the same right to cheer their colonel that they have to cheer General McClellan. I think it will stop where it is, except in the newspapers. Whatever is reported, you may feel safe about the outcome. They are doing some hasty things at Washington, but I have no doubt in any event that Governor Chase and the President will see justice done at the end to all our Ohio men.

We are supposed to be here in readiness to operate against the enemy invading Maryland. At present we are in General Reno's Corps, General Cox's Division, Colonel Scammon's Brigade, of General Burnside's Army. On the march, the Ohio troops have shown the best discipline and the most endurance of any body. New England furnishes the next best. Some of the Yankee troops are capital, all are good. The Middle States (New Jersey, New York, and Pennsylvania) are many of them abominable.

I have seen Colonel Ewing, who called on General Reno. He says General Reno was “cut to the quick” by the remark I have quoted, and is exceedingly “bitter” about it. Well, it's all in a lifetime. General Cox means to get us transferred if possible to General Sigel's Corps, on the ground that General Reno has given such offense to the Ohio troops that they will serve under him with reluctance.

Things have a bad look just now, but I still think they will mend before any crushing calamity comes. They will, if proper system and energy is adopted.

Sincerely,

R. B. Hayes.

P. S. — You may send this to Platt to set him right if he hears any lies about it. — [R.]

S. Birchard.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 348-9

Diary of John Hay: April 24, 1864

To-night Gen. Burnside came up with me from Willard's to see the President.  They talked about the opening campaign more than anything else. . . . He gave some interesting reminiscences of the siege of Knoxville (Tad laughing enormously whenever he saw his father's eye twinkle, though not seeing clearly why).

Burnside and Sigel are the only ones in motion in accordance with the Order for a general movement on the 23d.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 182-3; Michael Burlingame and John R. Turner Ettlinger, Editors, Inside Lincoln’s White House,: the complete Civil War Diary of John Hay, p. 188.