Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Tuesday, March 28, 1865

Working parties return at daylight at which time the ball opens again The Enemy were reinforcing last night from Mobile, a little bolder & give us a shell occasionally & quite a no of minnie balls fly over our heads, one of the 35th Iowa is killed in camp near us while packing his Knapsacks At 9.30 Cos. "G" & "B" ordered out as sharpshooters & skirmishers had to advance 100 yds through fallen timber exposed to the fire of the enemy, while advancing, Martin Walraven was wounded in the right fore arm. gain our position within 100 yds of the Fort & throw up earth works to protect us, were relieved at 3.30 by co K, in coming away John Mety, is wounded in the left shoulder & Jo. Dungan in the back passing into the thigh, K Co is to stay until morning. Our Gunboats get up close enough to lift a few shells into the main fort this P. M. When this is seen the boys raise a shout for we all depend a great deal on the Monitors. All the Regts build earthworks from 6 to 10 ft. high to camp behind, 1 man of the 50th Ind Killed by a shell while in camp some guns in our camp broken by a shell. The 1st Ind heavy artillery is reported to have arrived at the landing with 72. Mortors & heavy Parrot guns. It is rumored that our gunboats sunk one & disabled one transport for the enemy. 4 rockets sent up from the fort & it is rumored that the Infty is being transported to Mobile.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 581

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Wednesday, March 29, 1865

E. Co relieves K. before daylight. The enemy & our skirmishers talked all night. Rebs say their torpedos had sunk one of our Monitors & would sink the rest of them. Rains part of the day. We strengthen our protection. I learn that the Monitor which was sunk is the Milwakee she is not destroyed & will probably be raised soon, another the Osage was sunk today by a torpedo name Osage. The Pioneer Corps have taken out of the road 18 more torpedos made of 64 lb percussive shells, barely buried, the weight of a man on them will explode them. The Gunboatman have raised several from the Bay are out in skiffs hunting them. The enemy shell the skirmish line sharply all day.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 581

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Friday, March 31, 1865

Rested tolerably last night, At 8. A M. The batteries open on the Forts & keep up a vigorous shelling for 3 hours. P. M. the felled timber front of the forts where our skirmish line is gets on fire. Rebs open on them with shell & small arms. Could not see how the skirmishers could stand the heat & firing but they did it nobly, firing became so heavy at 6. P. M. the men were ordered to arms Co G. was ordered to the forward rifle pits to reinforce Co. B as a support to the skirmishers, Capt Ledyard was on duty as Brig off of the day, which left me in comd of the co. I took them down on the double quick although almost too week to stand. The bullets whistled thick arond but no one was struck. At 11. P. M. the heavy firing ceased & I reed orders to keep my co in the pits all night. I hear of several men being killed but none from our Regt, hear a report that on our right Smith with some of the heavy Parrots disables one of the Enemy's gunboat & drives another off 2 miles, one battery of heavy guns on our left is silenced by the fire save the main Fort. It is rumored that Thomas has made connection with Steele. The Gunboats advance slowly taking out the torpedos, advanced about 100 yds and that Genl Maury commands at Mobile & Genl Gibson at Spanish Fort. We rec mail today one from cous John who is with Thomas & says under date of 10th Feb that the comd was preparing for an expedition against Mobile.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 582

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Sunday, June 5, 1864

It rained nearly all the forenoon, but the skirmishers didn't seem to mind it, but kept on fighting. It was cloudy and sultry all this afternoon, but there was no rain. The enemy tried to assault about dark last night, but gave it up as our artillery had an enfilading fire on them. There was a very heavy rolling musketry fire on our distant right about midnight, but I don't know the reason of it. The enemy tried to carry our left flank about dark by storm, but failed. The roll of artillery and musketry fire was appalling for about a half hour, and the slaughter must have been great. Golly! this is stubborn fighting again! I'm proud of both armies. I wonder what the Johnnies think of us as fighters now? I'm sure they fight hard enough for me.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 76

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Colonel Eliakim P. Scammon: Sunday, May 11, 1862

Camp At Adair's, Near Narrows Of New River,

May 11, 1862.

Sir: — Yesterday morning, 10th inst, at dawn, our mounted pickets three miles south of Parisburg [Pearisburg] gave notice that the enemy was approaching in order of battle. It was soon discovered that his force was from twenty-five hundred to three thousand, and that he had a battery of five pieces. In pursuance of your order and according to a plan previously arranged, the following disposition of my command was made. All our teams and all the teams we could press were loaded and started for the Narrows of New River. The cavalry under Captain Gilmore, numbering thirty-five, and detachments of two companies of the Second Virginia V. C. [Volunteer Cavalry] under Captains Emmons and Scott respectively were dispatched to the front with instructions to harrass and delay the enemy. Company H, Captain Drake, and Company B, Captain Sperry of the Twenty-third Regiment O. V. I. were assigned a similar duty. The remaining seven companies (Company C not having joined the regiment) of the Twenty-third Regiment were drawn up in line of battle on a ridge in the rear of the village and about a half a mile in rear of our skirmishers. My whole force did not exceed six hundred men.

The enemy on approaching the first line of skirmishers halted and opened upon it with their artillery. The enemy, soon after the firing commenced, sent detachments right and left to flank our skirmishers. The skirmishers slowly and in good order withdrew keeping up a constant and galling fire upon the advancing lines. The enemy continued to press forward slowly and occasionally halting until they reached the seven companies of the Twenty-third Regiment in line of battle. Our whole force was gradually pushed back, the enemy following with his whole force, halting frequently to place his guns in position. In this way the fight was kept up four or five hours when we reached the Narrows of New River five and a half miles north of Parisburg [Pearisburg]. Here we were able to take advantage of the narrow pass and brought the enemy to a stand. He made no serious effort to enter the Narrows in the face of the force I had posted at the extreme southern entrance of the Narrows at Wolf Creek Bridge.

After perhaps two hours' delay the enemy succeeded in getting two guns on the opposite bank of New River and at a distance of two hundred and fifty or three hundred yards began to throw shell into the detachment defending the pass. Our force drew back to a new position out of range. The enemy again advanced his guns, and thus gradually we were forced to the lower entrance of the Narrows. No part of the enemy's force succeeded in getting through the Narrows. About the time the enemy ceased to push forward, the cavalry under your command came up. The fighting lasted seven or eight hours during which time the detachment under my command retreated about seven miles.

Our loss was two killed and ten wounded and six missing. Of these the Twenty-third O. V. I. lost Private Hoyt C. Tenney, Company B, killed; and Privates Thomas Redmond, Company I, John Leisure, Company D, and Henry Ward, Company B, missing and probably taken prisoners. The wounded are all doing well. Sergeant-Major Eugene L. Reynolds was hit in the head by a fragment of shell while fighting in the front line of skirmishers and knocked down. He had a narrow escape, but was not seriously hurt. A severe wound was received by Sergeant O. H. Ferrell, Company H. The other wounds are all slight. The names of the injured in the Second Virginia Cavalry have not been sent in.

We brought off our prisoners taken when we entered Parisburg [Pearisburg] and carried away all our quartermaster stores and ammunition. We lost the provisions we had previously captured from the enemy (except what we had consumed), of which there was a large quantity. The enemy's loss in killed and wounded is not known.

The officers and men of Captain Gilmore's Cavalry behaved with the greatest gallantry during the entire day. The two companies of the Second Virginia Cavalry rendered important service when dismounted and acting as skirmishers on the right of our line in the morning. The Twenty-third Regiment, officers and men, were cool and steady and the whole retreat in the face, and for the most part under the fire, of an overwhelming superior force was conducted without the slightest confusion or haste on their part.

It is much to be regretted that reinforcements which I had so frequently and urgently requested could not be sent in time to save Parisburg [Pearisburg], as the loss of position and property is very serious.*

Respectfully,

R. B. HAYES

Lieutenant-colonel 23D'regiment O. V. I.,

Commanding.

Copy [of] report to Colonel Scammon of retreat from Giles C. H. May 10, submitted May 11.

_______________

* [This paragraph] erased before signing on request of Colonel Scammon — not because I did not deem it true, but because he wished it, and I did not want to embarrass him.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 263-5

Diary of Sergeant George G. Smith: May 27, 1863

Early in the morning before sunrise the First Louisiana was ordered into line of battle. Companies B, H, and E, were ordered “as skirmishers.” My company was well posted in the skirmish drill, and I had no fear about them. A dense forest in which was hidden a powerful foe lay between us and his strong fortification, the fearful nature of whose armament we had already been made sensible by the destructive missiles he had previously hurled crashing through the trees at us. But not much time was allowed for these reflections. We were quickly deployed, and Lieutenant Gardner being in command of Company E gave the command of the first platoon to me, and the second to Lieutenant Koblin. Colonel Holcomb was acting Brigadier General and he quickly gave the command “Forward.” Flushed as we were with success, having been continually seeing the enemy fleeing before us for the last two months whenever we came up with them, victory had come to be almost a matter of course with us. So the boys expected a real “picnic,” and it may as well be said that they got it before the day was over. We had not proceeded more than two hundred yards before the grey coats of our enemies appeared among the trees, and they made their presence further known by a shower of bullets. The men returned the fire with interest and a sharp fight was kept up for a few minutes when the rebs gave way. I ordered the men to move forward as rapidly as possible, and not halt to load, but to load and fire as they marched. They had practiced this on the drill ground and knew how. In the excitement of the moment we entirely overlooked the necessity of keeping in line with the rest of the skirmishers and we soon found ourselves alone with one platoon of soldiers. The woods were so dense I could not see the length of my platoon. I was afraid to be in the rear for the danger of firing into them, and if we were forward of them they would fire into us. I could see no remedy, so we kept on our way, loading and firing into the bushes ahead as rapidly as possible, I could hear the stentorian voice of Colonel Holcomb as he gave the command, “Forward on the right!”

This I expected was intended for Company H as I feared they were in my rear: So I reiterated the command and kept up a continual fire into the woods in front. I think when I reiterated the command to “Forward on the right” it drew the fire of the whole rebel picket line on us, immediately in our front. But our fire soon silenced them and they disappeared entirely. This gave us a clear passage so far as the rebels were concerned. But we kept up the fire and pushed forward as fast as the nature of the ground would admit. We continued our course in this way for about a mile and a half, when we arrived at a small creek known as Thompsons creek, crossing this, we ascended a steep bluff. About half way up I halted the skirmishers and myself and another sergeant crept to the top to reconnoiter. About two hundred yards from the top of the bluff across an old cotton field was the rebel breast works. To the right was a deep basin of about seventy-five acres of felled timber commanded by a battery of two guns. Everything was silent and scarcely a man was to be seen, I believed the enemy was concealed behind the breastworks and did not deem it prudent to approach any nearer until support arrived. I told the sergeant next in rank to remain there and I would see if I could find any of the rest of the skirmishers. At the foot of the bluff I found Colonel Holcomb sitting on the bank wounded and Captain George, Company F, near by in command of the reserve. The Colonel said to me, “Sergeant where are your skirmishers?” I saluted him and said “Colonel they are up there (pointing up the bluff). We are in front of the rebel breast works and cannot go further until we have reinforcements.” He said, “I am wounded and cannot go further. A piece of shell struck me on the hip and I am disabled. But you go and tell Captain Parsons to charge on that gun that is firing down on us and take it.” “Very well,” I said, I went out to the right in the direction Captain Parson ought to be but could find nothing of him. I did not look long, and returned to report to the Colonel. But he had gone to the rear. I then returned to my command. I found the remainder of the line of skirmishers had arrived and taken up their positions along the bluff. We had not been there long when the enemy seeing we were not going to make a charge, opened upon us with a terriffic volley of grape canister and musketry splitting the limbs of the trees above our heads into splinters. I had my men stationed in a gully cut out from the side of the bluff by the action of the water, so that the fire of the enemy could not reach us. One poor fellow carelessly exposed himself and was shot through the brain and fell at my feet. I looked down at him. He gasped once, and was dead. His comrades took him away. The firing ceased and I looked round and discovered we were alone. I said to the men, “What does this mean?” One of them said somebody started a report that the rebels had come out from their works and were flanking us.” I said it was all nonsense. “The rebels dare not come out from there works; and we will hold the position until we are compelled to leave it. It has cost us too much hard fighting to abandon it.” So I said to one of the men, “How many cartridges have you got?” “One,” he replied, “besides the one in my gun.” I asked another, and he said, “Four.” This I found was the average number among the men. I said to them, “This is a bad state of things, but I think we can deceive them for a while at any rate.” I told them that there was no possible danger of being captured if we only kept a good lookout so that they could not surprise us. I told them further to fire occasionally when a good mark presented itself, so as to keep the enemy informed that we were there. I then went around to the right of where Company H was posted and found Captain Parsons of Company I and Lieutenant Jenner of Company D with their commands. I told them of my condition and that we were out of ammunition. Lieutenant Jenner generously gave me a few packages of cartridges and I returned to our heroic little band, after promising Captain Parsons and Lieutenant Jenner that I would hold the position to the last extremity. The sight of the cartridges inspired the men, and whenever a mark presented itself it was attended to. The retreat happened at about 12 m. We held the position until 2 p. m., when they returned. Company H, B, and the second platoon of Company E retreated. They had been back to our starting point in the morning. They all felt chagrined that they had retreated so rashly, the officers in particular. One said, “Sergeant Smith, where have you been?” I replied that I had been right there all the time. He said, “You have not.” I replied that I had, and appealed to the men of my command to prove my statement. He became convinced, and said, “Well, by G—d, I would give a thousand dollars to be in your boots.” I did not know before that I was doing anything more than my duty. They brought a supply of ammunition, and I believe some grub, but I don't quite remember about the last. At 5 p. m. a flag of truce was displayed from the breastworks of the enemy. A tremendous cheering was heard all along the line, and contending parties of both sides laid aside their arms and rushed out to see each other as though they had been friends long parted. Two officers met, the flag of truce was found to be a mistake, the two disappointed armies retired behind their breastworks, and the firing begun again. But the truce showed me that I was right in my calculation that there was a large force behind the breastworks in front of us, where we charged up the bluff; for no sooner was the truce proclaimed than the rebel soldiers swarmed out on the parapet like ants on an ant hill. If all the forces in that immediate vicinity had combined and attempted to charge across that plateau, there was force enough there to have swept it away like chaff from the summer threshing floor, or ever they could possibly reach the breastworks. I have thought sometimes that it was a blessing in disguise that Colonel Holcomb was disabled on that morning, or that I failed to find Captain Parsons to deliver his message.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 58-66

Diary of Sergeant George G. Smith: May 25, 1863

[In the morning] we marched three miles further round towards the enemy's right, in the rear of some woods where the 91st New York deployed as skirmishers, and the First Louisiana fell into line as a reserve. The skirmishers had penetrated the woods but a short distance when they encountered the enemy's pickets and a sharp engagement was commenced, but the enemy soon gave way before advancing skirmishers. After pursuing them about half a mile, they obtained our range with three heavy guns from their works and we were obliged to fall back to their old encampment. We were not yet out of range, but the ground falling off in the opposite direction, his shot and shells flew harmlessly, hissing over our heads. After dark a serious catasttrophe happened on our left. The 31st Massachusetts stationed there mistook the 91st N. Y. on picket guard for the enemy, and fired into them. It cost the life of a captain of the 31st Massachusetts, but none of the 91st New York was injured.

The union line of investment was said to be seven miles long, from the river above Port Hudson to the river below. General Banks had most all the forces in the Department of the Gulf there; and were all stationed ready to invest the works preparatory to an assault. One in my position could not of course be expected to know much more than what was transacted directly under his own observation, so that those who desire a more extended view of the operations of the army during this siege must consult those who had better opportunities for observation than the writer of these pages.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 56-8

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: April 2, 1862

camp Near Edinburg, Virginia, April 2, 1862.

I promised not to write you till our monotony ceased. It has done so; yet the story is a short one. Our regiment started yesterday morning (April 1) to advance. A few shots, as we started, from some of our Parrott guns, scattered the enemy's vedettes, and five of our companies, deployed as skirmishers, led the way. The other three companies were the reserve, four hundred yards in rear, and were under my command. The occasional interchange of shots now and then, a rapid rattle of rifle-shots from our skirmishers as they came upon a retreating line of the enemy's cavalry, kept us in excitement till we got near Woodstock. When we came over the hill to that town, spang! went a gun from the opposite hill, and whirr-r-r came a shot over my reserve; the men ducked their heads a little, and I drew them under the shelter of a bank. Here there was a rapid interchange of cannon-shot; and when we had shelled out their battery, our skirmishers again advanced, driving their cavalry before them. Just beyond the town we came upon their burning camps, which they had set on fire and deserted. Again we advanced, and came to the “Narrow Pass” (so called). Here the bridge over the creek was burning. Our skirmishers put it out.

The pass is a strong position for the Rebels, and we were not surprised to hear another “spang,” and the rushing of more shells. Our batteries got into position, and there was a brisk interchange of shots over our heads, the reserve being in the hollow, and getting an occasional bursting shell near it from each side. Here one of our skirmishers came back shot in the breast. As luck would have it, however, his brass plate turned the ball, so that he was not dangerously hurt. Again we went on till we came to this place. Here both bridges, the turnpike, and railroad were burning. We halted a little while before entering the town, and when we pushed on the inevitable “spang” assailed us. Our skirmishers drove the enemy across the river, and back into the woods. Our batteries silenced theirs. One poor fellow, in a regiment in rear of our reserve, had his head taken off by a shell. These were the only casualties on our side. Here we paused and went into bivouac; and, after fourteen miles' skirmishing in heavy-trim knapsacks, all our tired regiment went to sleep. This morning there has been a little more shelling. We halt for supplies. We are in bivouac, our tents having been left behind.

I hope Jackson will make a stand, but fear he will not. Yesterday was quite a brisk, exciting day. The regiment did splendidly, as all agree. I am very well, and recovering my spirits. Love to all.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 224-5

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

Major Charles Fessenden Morse: July 9, 1864

Near Vining's Station, Ga.,

July 9, 1864.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Major Charles Fessenden Morse: June 24, 1864

Near Marietta, Ga., June 24, 1864.

My letter of the 19th brought our operations up to that date, and closed just as we were about to start on a fresh move. An advance of a few hundred yards brought us to their works, — a line so strong that if decently well held, I don't think it could be carried by assault by the best infantry in the world. We pushed on by the flank about a mile, then struck the enemy. All this movement was in a pouring rain (from the 1st to the 21st, inclusive, eighteen of the days were rainy), which finally came in such torrents that we were obliged to halt for two or three hours before making our dispositions.

The enemy was found entrenched on a ridge in our front. We began, just before night, to throw up a slight line of works to protect us from sharpshooters. I had the extreme right of the division. One of our men, First Sergeant Lord, of Company K, was mortally wounded while constructing breastworks; he was a splendid fellow, and had been recommended for a commission.

At five o'clock on the 20th, our division was relieved by Wood's Division, Fourth Corps. We moved gradually along the line to the right, connecting at night with the left of the Twenty-third Corps; this gained us a position pretty well on the enemy's left flank. On the 21st our line was slightly changed; on the 22d, our corps swung forward on its left in a north-easterly direction, the Twenty-third Corps following our movement, except that its right was well refused. The object of the movement was to take possession of the Powder Spring road, an important highway leading from Marietta. By stretching out our division into a single line, and connecting some parts of it with a line of skirmishers, its right just reached this road, and connected with the left of the Twenty-third Corps.

Before the troops were all in line, word was sent in from the skirmishers that the enemy was massing for an attack on our centre and left. We were just ready and nothing to spare, when Hood's Corps came out of the woods in our front (to my left, the length of about two regiments), and advanced, with their usual yell, in four lines. The division opened upon them with musketry and artillery, and before their first line had gotten within fifty yards, they were all broken and repulsed; their loss was very heavy, as they were in entirely open ground. I think three or four hundred will cover our division's loss. I had only two men wounded. Towards the close of the attack our situation was very critical; our ammunition was nearly exhausted, and not a single support was near. If there had only been one line behind us, we could have advanced at once and taken large numbers of prisoners. As soon as support did arrive, we advanced our skirmish line, but the enemy had gone, leaving their dead and hundreds of small-arms on the ground. I enclose you a fragment of the Fifty-third Virginia's flag, which was captured by the Fifth Connecticut.

I think our division has a right to brag a little on this tight, for if a single regiment had misbehaved, our line would have been broken. We are still in the same position as on the 21st, but there is a constant movement of troops to our right, threatening, you see, all their lines of communications and retreat. They still hold Kenesaw Mountain, which is due north from here. If they can only be forced to attack us, I think we can use them up completely. On the 21st, we took prisoners from three divisions, comprising the whole of Hood's Corps, which forms at least one quarter of their entire army.

I will give the Western army credit for their superior use of artillery. Wherever infantry goes, the batteries follow right in line, and in this way guns can be used continually at very short range, producing, of course, deadly effect. At Gettysburg, every colonel in our brigade besought the chief of artillery to put some guns in position in our line, but we were told that it couldn't be done, as the gunners would be picked off by sharpshooters. Here they have to take the same chances as an infantry man.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 171-3

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: August 23, 1864

Sun shining bright this morning. Skirmishing firing began at daylight. A number of the enemy's sharpshooters are up in high trees. They annoy us very much. Not safe to show one's head above the rifle pits. Saw General Sheridan pass quickly along the line, just as a shell dropped inside our intrenchments. No damage from it, as it exploded just beyond our line. We are on the watch, as the skirmishers are kept very busy.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 116

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: August 26, 1864

This morning finds us still in line at Halltown. A large force of skirmishers ordered outside the rifle pits. Must charge on the enemy, drive them back. The enemy in strong force, well posted. The skirmish was hot while it lasted. A number of our boys were wounded, carried inside our lines. Late in the day all became quiet. I am detailed for picket duty tonight. The boys are sleeping tonight with equipments on, ready for a sudden call to duty. We are often obliged to sleep with our guns in our arms.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 117

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, March 21, 1865

We advanced our line of battle a half mile, driving in the rebel skirmishers. Our loss was quite large in killed and wounded. All our artillery was brought into action and at times this afternoon the roar of cannon was fearful; but the rebels made no reply. Their loss in killed and wounded was large. There was some hard skirmishing on both sides. The Fifth and Twenty-fourth Corps under command of General Ord joined us this afternoon, thus reinforcing General Sherman's army. The army is in fine spirits for all that the men are poorly clothed and short of rations; but anything that General Sherman wants done now, they are willing to do. All know that when we gain this battle, we will have a short rest and a chance to draw some clothing, besides securing rations, for forage is scarce.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 263

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Saturday, March 4, 1865

We remained in bivouac all day. The Fifteenth Corps just came in on a road to our left and is to cross the Pedee ahead of the Seventeenth. The rebel skirmishers are just across the river and our skirmishers are keeping up a lively fusillade. Our engineers cannot lay the pontoons so long as the rebels are on the opposite bank of the river and the plan is to send a detachment above or below and cross the river after dark, and flank them. The foragers of the Seventeenth Corps were put in command of the colonel of the Ninth Illinois today and sent out on a raid to Society Hill, fifteen miles south of Cheraw on the railroad. They captured and destroyed two trains of cars loaded with ammunition and provisions, and then tore up the tracks for some miles and burned everything in town that would burn.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 258

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Monday, December 19, 1864

Weather pleasant. Reveille sounded at 1 a. m. and at 2 o'clock our brigade started for the rifle pits in front of Savannah. The first brigade was left at the bridge to guard the landing and to unload the boats. A little before daylight, unnoticed by the rebels, we passed over the same causeway that we went down on, and after marching about nine miles we formed a line of battle and sent out skirmishers. We soon drove the rebels across the swamp. They used grape and canister on us, but did little harm. At all the points where they have the roads blockaded, we have planted sixty-four-pounders, which keep their guns silent. There is some heavy cannonading and brisk skirmishing all along the lines.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 238-9

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Friday, December 9, 1864

It is cloudy with a strong northeast wind. We started early again this morning and after laying off ten miles went into bivouac. The Twenty-fifth New Jersey was on the skirmish line today, skirmishing commencing at 10 o'clock and continuing till dark. They lost four men killed and fifteen wounded. The First Division of our corps was in the front, and their quartermaster was killed by a ten-pound solid shot fired from a small cannon on a flat car which the rebels ran up and down the railroad. Our way today was through one continuous swamp, but we had a fine road, a high causeway which runs to Savannah. Our camp tonight lies within ten miles of Savannah.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 235-6

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, June 14, 1862

Camp Near Newtown,

June 14, 1862.

After about eighteen days' absence, here we are back again in Virginia, camped on the identical piece of ground where the fight raged the fiercest on Saturday night, the 24th of May. We crossed the Potomac the 10th, Tuesday, and bivouacked on this side of the river; the next morning we started early, six o'clock, and marched to Bunker Hill, twenty-two miles, camping there that night; the next day we marched twenty miles to this place. Our march through Winchester was with closed ranks, band playing “John Brown,” “Yankee Doodle” and “Dixie,” and our old Harper's Ferry flag flying, almost torn to pieces by the bullets of the Twenty-fourth and Twenty-fifth. People scowled as we marched through town.

As I said before, our camp is on the ground occupied by us in the first skirmish of Saturday night, and what is a still more striking coincidence, our mess tent is pitched on the exact piece of ground that our skirmishers rallied on when they poured in such a deadly fire to the rebel cavalry. The last man of ours that was killed here was buried close by, by a citizen. Yesterday afternoon, I rode back to Winchester and over the battle field. The effects of the artillery were still very apparent; stone walls and fences knocked to pieces, trees cut off, etc. Near where our right was, are three graves of our men who were killed there.

I had a very pleasant visit to the hospital where our wounded are; they are mostly looking very well. It does one good to see how they brighten up when one of their officers comes into the room where they are. I believe I spoke in one of my last letters about a private named Stevens, in our company, whom I saw wounded, first by a piece of shell, then by a bullet. The poor fellow is dead; I could not find out any particulars about him yesterday, only that he died in hospital June 4th. He was a very good boy, not more than eighteen years old; he was one of the recruits that joined us last fall; he always did his duty faithfully, and was a brave little fellow. It seems sadder about him because he had an older brother in the company, who always took care of him when anything was the matter. He has been very anxious since the fight, and now the first news he has received is of his death. It is a severe shock, but he bears it bravely, and says he feels happy that his brother never showed himself a coward.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 68-9

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, April 7, 1862

Camp Near Edinburgh, April 7, 1862.

As I write less often now, you must expect me to be more voluminous, and I shall stick to my form of journal, as it may be interesting to me as well as you, some of these days, to have a connected history of our small share in this campaign.

The Saturday following my last letter, our whole regiment was ordered to go on outpost duty. We started about four o'clock and relieved the Twenty-ninth Pennsylvania. By the way, at this time our regiment consisted of only eight companies, Company G being on provost marshal and off at Centreville, and Company A being at Snicker's Ferry guarding the bridge over the Shenandoah. I had command of Company D, Captain Savage was sick. Three companies were held in reserve, the other five, B, D, E, H, and K, formed the pickets, furnishing the outposts and sentinels. We did not get our men posted till dark, and then it began to storm, raining, hailing, thundering and lightening. My company did not have the slightest shelter, and at the outposts no fires were allowed. The rain froze as fast as it fell, giving everything a coating of ice; altogether it was what might be called a pretty tough night. Morning came at last, and then I found that we were within a hundred yards of a big barn full of hay and straw; of course I moved the company right into it and had big fires built in front of the door, making things seem quite comfortable. The next thing to do was to push out the outposts and sentinels; this I did in connection with the other officers, until we came in sight of the enemy's vedettes. They do all their outpost duty in our neighborhood with Ashby's cavalry. It is an interesting sight to see their line of horsemen slowly walking back and forth on a ridge, standing full out against the sky.

About nine o'clock, Company F was sent out to make a reconnoissance of their position, but was driven back by a large force of cavalry. In the afternoon, they ran a gun down to within a mile of us and fired a few shells; one of them burst within a few yards of one of my men, but did no damage. We were relieved in the afternoon by the Third Wisconsin.

Monday night, we were waked up to draw and cook rations, and received orders to march in the morning. At nine next morning, our line was formed; our brigade had the advance of all. As soon as we came in sight of the enemy's vedettes, the column was halted; five of our companies were deployed as skirmishers, H, C, F, B, and I, forming a line a mile or more wide. As we advanced within rifle range, they fell back: wherever they had any woods to take advantage of, they would stay on the edge and fire at us as we came across the open, but they shot very badly, most of their bullets going over our heads. One of Company I received a bullet in his breast-plate, bending it all up and passing through his overcoat, dress coat and shirt, inflicting a slight wound. Occasionally they would give our men a chance to fire, but very seldom, though we managed to kill several of their horses, and, I think, wound some of their men. Going through Woodstock was very lively; the rebels planted their battery in the middle of the street, and shelled away at our main body until our skirmishers almost flanked them. One of our shells went straight through a church steeple and through one wall of the jail.

We marched thirteen miles, the shelling and firing continuing the whole way. The enemy burnt their bridges as they retreated; there were four splendid railroad bridges burned in this way. We almost caught them at Edinburgh; the two bridges across Stony Creek had not been on fire fifteen minutes when we arrived. The enemy, knowing we could not ford that stream, took up a position and shelled away at us, but our battery silenced them in less than a quarter of an hour, firing with great accuracy right into the middle of them. One of the Third Wisconsin was killed here, and three or four others slightly wounded. It seemed impossible that we should get off with so small a loss; the shells seemed to strike everywhere except where our men were. My good boy Hogan knocked one of their cavalry out of his saddle at nearly five hundred yards; he is quite a hero now in the company. As night came on, the firing ceased and we went into bivouac near by. The day was a very exciting one, and though it really amounted to nothing as a fight, on account of none of our men being hurt, yet it was good practice for us and gave us confidence under fire. Our pickets along the river are in sight of the enemy's all the time.

Last Friday our company was detailed to accompany some signal officers up one of the mountains of the Blue Ridge, to establish a signal station. We had a hard climb of it; the mountain was very steep, the view on top superb. You could see up and down the Shenandoah valley for miles; could see some of Jackson's camps and a section of a battery within a short distance of our outposts; most of his force is concealed by woods. That night we bivouacked about half-way down the mountain. Our position was so isolated that we didn't dare to have any fires, but we did not mind much, as the night was warm and the moon bright. I thought, as I lay down, how impossible it would have been for me to conceive of being in such a position a year ago. It was the wildest place we have ever been in, the nearest house being a mile or more off.

Towards morning I was awakened by hearing the pleasant sound of rain-drops pattering around my head; a delightful sound, you know, when you have a roof over you, but not so pleasant when there is nothing between you and the clouds. There was nothing to do but pull my blanket over my head and sleep until daylight. No signalling could be done that day, so we marched down the hill and put the company in the nearest barn; we officers took a room in an adjoining house. Sunday was a beautiful day, and we again ascended the mountains. Monday I returned to camp.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 48-52