Diary of Private William S. White, October 16, 1862

If I am not mistaken, this is the anniversary of John Brown's celebrated crazy raid into Virginia, which cost the poor crazy fool his life. The writer of this being a member of the Richmond Howitzers at the time, participated in the scenes that followed that raid, and stood guard over his gallows the night before he was hung. Bob Ward and Lawyer W. F. Watson, he that sung the "Cruiskeen Lawn" so heartily, were his guardmates on that memorable night; and I remember right well, as we saw the shooting stars darting athwart the mid-night heavens, we thought them beacon lights calling together the Abolition rescuers. In memory of that day, and to gratify public opinion, McClellan has made another advance; but he is a very cautious General, and has none of the Napoleonic dash of Jackson about him, though he certainly is a good officer, notwithstanding his government does not and never will give him a hearty support. We have received sad news to-day; our two rifled-guns (Parrots) have been stationed at Charlestown some two or three weeks, on picket duty, and a week ago the Federals made a slight demonstration in their neighborhood, but were easily driven back. Today they returned with a much stronger force, and although our boys fought gallantly, yet we were driven back with some loss. Our Captain, B. H. Smith, Jr, was severely wounded in the foot. Our first Lieutenant, Henry C. Carter, was slightly wounded in the shoulder; had his cravat untied and split in half by a cannon shot. Private James E. Cassiday was mortally wounded, and Private R. Burley Brown killed. Captain Smith and Cassiday were left in Charlestown, and Burley Brown was buried there. Private L. W. Redd was left with Captain Smith, to take charge of him. About sundown my section was ordered to "hitch up, strike tents, and prepare to move," as the enemy were reported to be advancing. Our horses remained harnessed all night; it rained very hard the first part of the night, but, after midnight, cleared off.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, pp. 135-6

Diary of Private William S. White, October 28, 1862

Broke camp at Bunker Hill and started on a march to some unknown point with Jackson's corps, to which we are now attached. Presume we will cross the Shenandoah and move towards Leesburg, as the main body of the Yankee army will very likely cross the Potomac near that place. It is evident that we will have to move somewhere nearer railroad communication, and we may possibly winter on the Rappahannock, though if the Yankees should move on Richmond either from the south side of the James or via the Peninsula, we will be compelled to fall back nearer our metropolis. Heaven forbid that another spring may find old Richmond so closely encompassed by her enemies as she was before the terrible battles of last June and July!

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, pp. 136-7

Diary of Private William S. White, November 29, 1862

Left "Montpelier" this morning, marched eight or nine miles and passed through Orange Courthouse, taking the road to Fredericksburg. Nearly all of our horses are suffering with a disease called "grease heel," and if we continue much longer on the march we will have to leave many of them on the roadside. My old nag has "gone up," and now I will have to depend upon my legs to keep up with Jackson.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 142

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Friday, June 27, 1862

Fair Oaks. Battle of Gaines' Mills. Stonewall Jackson opened the battle this morning with overpowering numbers against General Porter. We could see from our position how the rebels drove Porter's troops from one position to the other. They are already fighting near Coal Harbor. General McClellan ordered General Sumner to hold his position at all hazards. By twelve o'clock A. M. we were attacked by the rebels with great determination. Four batteries opened on our centre and Smith's division, but were finally repulsed. General Porter is utterly defeated. Meagher's Irish brigade went to cover his retreat. Troops are marching and countermarching all night. Great cheering within the rebel lines.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, pp. 48-9

Diary of Private William S. White, September 4, 1862

Reached Gainsville, Fauquier, about 1 o'clock and as it was a good place for our horses we halted for the night. This village being only some two and a half miles from the battlefield of Manassas, and as I had an abundance of time, I rode over to the battlefield. Oh, what a scene of horror it was! Hundreds and thousands of dead and dying Yankees strewn all over the field—the dead, putrefied and swollen even to bursting, made the air redolent with a smell so nauseous and disgusting that it seemed to thicken the very air. Although nearly a week had passed since the battle, the wounded were still lying on the field, and none were buried save our own men. This seems, at first glance, wholly unchristian, yet one must remember that we are contending against a powerful enemy and for our very existence; therefore, we cannot spare the time to bury the enemy's dead, nor care for his wounded, when all medical stores have been declared "contraband of war" and we are destitute of them. Ten thousand Yankees lie unburied upon the field, and every moment of time is worth millions of money to us. The wounded, we have cared for as well as circumstances would permit, though we are much in want of proper stores for our own men.

General Lee most humanely allowed the Federal Government permission to send an ambulance train from Washington City, attended by proper surgeons, to look after the Federal wounded and give them proper treatment.

I conversed for some time with a citizen of Washington and he seemed very sanguine of the ultimate success of the Federal arms—by this time, however, he has found out how terribly in earnest we are. In this Second Battle of Manassas the positions of both Federal and Confederate armies were almost exactly reversed from that of the First Battle of Manassas of last year, and yet we whipped them again. Our left wing under Stonewall Jackson, swung around upon the Federal right and struck the mighty Pope en reverse before he was aware of the Confederate movement. But, danger of dangers, Lee's army was separated and if Pope could succeed in keeping Longstreet south of Thoroughfare Gap, Jackson would be isolated and would fall an easy prey to the countless thousands of that boasting Army of the Potomac, "the finest army the world ever saw." The vainglorious boaster who had never seen anything but the "backs of his enemies," and whose "head-quarters were in the saddle," was not equal to the emergency and Longstreet quietly and easily drove away the Federal brigade guarding a gap that a corps ought to have held, whilst he, hurried on to join that Achilles of the South, the ever present Jackson, and all the while Fitz John Porter doubting whether or not he must fight or wait. He who doubts loses, the combined corps of Jackson and Longstreet make one grand dash and the dismayed Federals were swept from the field.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, pp. 128-9

Diary of Private William S. White, September 14, 1862

Firing to-day towards Middletown, in our rear. Left camp to reinforce our troops, who are sharply engaging the enemy at Boonsboro'. We moved on towards that place when we met a portion of our troops returning; they report the enemy to be falling back.

Camped near Boonsboro'. The Yankees now begin to understand our plans, and are making strenuous efforts to save their troops penned up in Harper's Ferry by Stonewall Jackson, but "Old Jack" is bound to "gather them in."

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 131

Diary of Private William S. White, September 15, 1862

In some way McClellan succeeded in getting his hands upon one of General Lee's orders, which gave him a pretty correct idea of the disposition of our forces, and thinking he could throw a heavy force upon D. H. Hill, at Boonsboro', cut our army in two and get to Harper's Ferry in time to save the Federal forces stationed there and now penned up by Jackson, he made a heavy attack upon Hill. Hill made a desperate resistance with his gallant troops, but it remains to be seen whether or not he held out long enough.

Certain it is that Hill has had to fight against very heavy odds, and has lost many men.

The Yankees having pushed us so closely at Boonsboro' it becomes necessary for us to gather up our forces before we can offer McClellan battle. The larger portion of our troops moved last night, and this morning, towards Sharpsburg, whilst my artillery command moved on to Williamsport, on the Potomac, to guard the ford—had neither infantry nor cavalry support, and we were smartly excited on getting within a few miles of that place to find the Yankees had possession of it and had destroyed a good many of our ordnance wagons. It seems that a body of Yankee cavalry had escaped from Harper's Ferry, and from the clutches of the rapacious Jackson, and had made their way to Williamsport. Crossing the Potomac at that place they came upon our ordnance train, which being unprotected was completely at their mercy. Our artillery regiment was also unprotected, and had the Yankees been aware of it, we could have been easily captured; but war is a game of chance and I presume they concluded that they had accomplished enough for one day escaped from Jackson at Harper's Ferry and captured a Confederate ordnance train. They beat a hasty retreat, and we entered Williamsport without opposition, crossing the Potomac and bringing our guns "into battery" once more upon Virginia soil. So far, our march into Maryland has resulted in but little good to our cause, and has lasted but a single week. There is no doubt of this fact (and 'tis useless to attempt to conceal it) the people, or at least the larger portion of them, are against the South, and that, too, most bitterly.

Confederate money, in most places, was not current, and as we had nothing else, we made but few purchases.

We remained on the Potomac until dark, then marched six or seven miles and camped for the night.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, pp. 131-2

Diary of Private William S. White, September 17, 1862

Camped near Shepherdstown last night. This morning we can faintly see, far over towards Sharpsburg that another great battle is commencing.

McClellan very well knew that the time to attack Lee was when Jackson was absent, and the bloody battle of Sharpsburg is the consequence.

This little village is filled with our sick and wounded, and the citizens are straining every nerve to render them comfortable. Jackson has gained a glorious victory at Harper's Ferry, and that, too, without loss. His troops have passed through Shepherdstown on the way to Sharpsburg.

This little village of Shepherdstown is the most intensely Southern place I ever saw, and what makes it more surprising is its proximity to Maryland.

Our battery has just received orders to move, not to Sharpsburg, as we supposed, but to Williamsport.

In order to relieve Lee at Sharpsburg, General J. E. B. Stuart is to recross the Potomac at Williamsport, and make a diversion. McClellan, not knowing Stuart's force and fearing a flank movement, will withdraw, possibly, a large force to watch or catch him.

Camped near Martinsburg.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 132-3

Private John C. West to Miss Decca Stark, June 23, 1863

CAMP NEAR MILLWOOD, TWENTY MILES                

WEST OF HARPER'S FERRY        ,

JUNE 23RD, 1863.

To Miss Decca Stark, Columbia, South Carolina:

DEAR DECCA: Yours of the 6th inst., with one from Miss Nannie Norton of the same date reached me about eight days ago, and I have not had a moment since to answer you, and even now cannot tell whether I shall be interrupted before I am half done this. I am writing on my knee, with everything packed ready to move at the sound of the bugle. I wrote you last on the 6th of June from near Culpepper Court House. On that day we took a hard march of eighteen miles through the rain, and on very muddy roads. We halted about 10 o'clock at night. I was wet and very tired.

There was an order against making fires, as we were near the enemy, being on the same ground on which Stuart fought them a few days afterwards. Of course I slept; a soldier, if he knows his own interest, will sleep whenever opportunity offers, but there were 10,000 or 12,000 men huddled on the side of the road in a promiscuous mass, just as you have seen cattle about a barn lot; no one knowing how much mud or filth he reposed in until the generous light of day revealed it. It rained a good deal during the night and kept me thoroughly soaked. The next morning we were ordered back to the camp near Culpepper, and marched over the same road by 1 o'clock and remained there until the 9th, when early in the morning about 5 o'clock we heard heavy firing of artillery. This was the opening of Stuart's cavalry fight. We formed and marched to Lookout Mountain, about three miles from Stephenburg, and lay in line of battle upon it until the fortune of the day was decided and then returned to camp.

Colonel Frank Hampton was killed in or near Stephenburg by a pistol shot. He was in a hand to hand encounter, it is said. On the 13th we received orders to be ready to march or fight, but it turned out to be only a march of five miles, which we accomplished in an hour and reached Cedar Run, the scene of one of Stonewall Jackson's battles last August. There were a great many unburied skeletons, presenting a very ghastly appearance. There were forty-nine skulls in one little ditch; the bodies were torn to pieces and scattered about, having been taken from their shallow graves by hogs or other animals. A hand or a foot might be seen protruding from the earth, here and there, to mark the last resting place of the patriotic victims of this horrible war.

We left this camp on the 15th and marched through Culpepper towards Winchester. This was one of the hottest days and one of the hottest marches I have yet experienced. Over 500 men fell out by the road side from fatigue and exhaustion, and several died where they fell; this was occasioned by being overheated and drinking cold water in immoderate quantities, and the enforcement of the order requiring us to wade through creeks and rivers up to our waists without the privilege of even taking off our shoes. I felt quite sick and giddy with a severe pain in my head as I was climbing the hill after wading the Rappahannock, but it passed off, and I kept with the company, though I saw two dead men during the time and several others fall.

Oh! how I would have enjoyed one of mother's mint juleps then as we rested in "the shade of the trees." I slept gloriously that night on a bed of clover and blue grass and thought of the little "pig that lived in clover and when he died he died all over." On the 16th we marched twenty miles without so much suffering, though the day was very warm, and many fell by the way, and like the seed in the parable, “on stony ground," for we were getting towards the mountains. Camped that night near Markham station in another field of clover, though not so comfortable, for I was very cold and slept little. On the 17th marched fourteen miles up hill and down dale through a beautiful, mountaineous region and camped in a splendid grove of oak and hickory about one mile from Upperville, and the neighborhood of some of the most beautiful family mansions I ever saw, All the country we have passed through is perfectly charming, and I cannot see why any Virginian ever leaves Virginia. All that I have seen so far fills my ideal of the "promised land." On the 18th we marched to the Shenandoah, ten miles, and waded it with positive orders not to take off any clothing. The water was deep and cold. I put my cartridge box on my head. The water came to my arm pits. We camped about a mile beyond the river. A tremendous rain drenched us before night, so we were reconciled to the wading. My blankets and everything that I had was soaked, except Mary's daguerreotype, which Colonel B. F. Carter took charge of for me. I slept in clothes and blankets soaked wet. On the 19th we marched down the river about ten miles over a very muddy road, and crossed several little streams about knee deep, and then re-crossed the Shenandoah and marched up through Sniggers Gap to the top of the mountain, and here about dark we experienced the hardest storm of wind and rain I ever saw. It seemed to me as if the cold and rain, like the two-edged sword of holy writ, penetrated to the very joints and marrow.

I laid down but did not sleep a wink until about an hour before day, and woke up cold and stiff. More than half the soldiers spent the night in a desperate effort to keep the fire burning, which was done with great difficulty.

I took off my clothes, one garment at a time, and dried them, and baked myself until I felt tolerably well; but truly a soldier knows not what a day may bring forth. Just as I was thoroughly dried, up came another cloud and soaked us again, and then came an order to fall into line "without arms." We were then marched about half a mile from camp and ordered to build a stone fence about half a mile long. This, several thousand men accomplished in about two hours; though it worked me pretty hard to carry and roll stones weighing from 50 to 200 pounds. After my morning's work I dined with Captain Bachman, who had an elegant dinner, consisting mainly of cow-pea soup. After dinner, while we were taking a sociable smoke and chat, an order came to get ready to leave immediately. I hurried to my company and we started back down the mountain, and it was only after getting into the valley, where the sun was shining, that we discovered that we had been encamped in a cloud on the mountain top, right in the heart of the rain factory, the summer resort of Æolus himself. The division again crossed the Shenandoah, but this time I mounted one of Captain Bachman's caissons and rode over, thus escaping the chill of the waters, though the rain had wet me thoroughly before. I would like for Mrs. Bachman to paint such a scene. It was one of the most splendid for a picture I ever witnessed, 25,000 or 30,000 men, with the wagons and artillery, and horses, all crowding into the stream; a perfect living mass, with towering mountains looking down upon us, and the old stone mill reminding one of the halcyon days of peace and a hundred other incidents which I have not the ability to describe correctly; all united to form one of the most picturesque and wonderful sights my eyes ever beheld.

We camped on this side of the river two nights and one day, and on yesterday morning marched for this place, where for the first time, since the reception of your letter, I have had an opportunity to answer it, for the captain carries my paper for me, and frequently, when we stop, the wagon which carries his baggage is not near to us. I have not written to Mary for ten days, and must ask of you the favor of writing to her for me and giving her the principal items of my journey, for I shall hardly ever get an opportunity of sending a letter by hand from here, and the mails are so uncertain that there is little satisfaction in writing. I am glad she does not know of the privations I am suffering, for it would give her more pain than I have felt in enduring them. I saw Captain Bachman again yesterday. He is well and in fine spirits. I have seen James Davis and all the Camden boys and old friends, and schoolmates in McLaws division. They each hold an office of some kind.

They are very lucky in having friends on good terms with the appointing power. I think I could get a place above the ranks, but I doubt my qualifications for a higher place. I can march and shoot, and I love my musket next to my wife and my country, and this constitutes my qualifications for military service. I have quite a severe cold, though I am better to-day than I was yesterday. Don't write this to Mary. I hope we will soon get through our demonstrations and come to the fighting part of the drama.

I have not heard from home yet, though it is more than two months since I left Texas, and there are several letters in the regiment of recent date. I understand there is a large mail for our brigade at the Texas depot, in Richmond, awaiting an opportunity to be sent to us. My love to all, and tell "Theo" to study hard and get his lessons well, for an educated man can make a better soldier, a better ditcher, or well digger, and a more perfect gentleman than an uneducated one.

Your brother, truly,

JOHN C. WEST.

SOURCE: John Camden West, A Texan in Search of a Fight: Being the Diary and Letters of a Private Soldier in Hood’s Texas Brigade, pp. 73-9

Diary of Private William S. White, August 10, 1862

Five brigades of Longstreet's division leave today for Jackson's command, in the Valley.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 126

Diary of Private William S. White, June 30, 1862

BATTLE OF WILLIS'S CHURCH, OR FRAYSER'S FARM, MONDAY, JUNE 30TH, 1862.

I was in the saddle from a little after sunrise yesterday morning until daybreak this morning, and then, after taking a nap of an hour, had to move on to find my company. McClellan, having been so terribly punished on his right flank by the fierce onslaughts of Lee and Jackson, has now concentrated his forces on this (the south) side of the Chickahominy, and is making his way to his gun-boats on the James River. We are following him up as rapidly as possible. Our two divisions moved a few miles farther down the Darbytown Road, when our advanced guard captured a Yankee picket, who reported their men to be but a short distance in advance.

Longstreet quickly disposed his troops, and advanced to meet the enemy; my battery was posted in an open field, but we could see no enemy, as a heavy wood was between us.

The enemy soon rained a storm of shot and shell upon us, and we returned the fire with vigor, but as soon as our infantry charged beyond us, as at Gaines's Mill, we were compelled to cease firing," our guns being of such short range.

Nevertheless, we were compelled to receive their fire, and, being unable to return it, it made our situation anything but pleasant. Nothing is more demoralizing to troops than to be subjected to a heavy fire from an unseen foe and to remain perfectly inactive. The wood completely shut us out from sight, yet shielded us but little from the shot and shell.

Here a member of my company (Edward F. Cullen) was struck upon the forehead by a piece of shell; we thought at first he was seriously wounded, but we were mistaken. I also made a very narrow escape, for a two ounce ball from a Belgian rifle passed through my gunner's-bag, which was, as is customary during an engagement, thrown over my shoulder. I had in this bag about 500 friction primers, each and every one a little miniature cannon of itself, filled with rifle and a poisonous fulminating powder, the explosion of one of which would have caused the explosion of the whole. The ball passed through three thick pleats of leather, breaking the fourth and last pleat. Had it not have been for this leather bag, I would have received this ball just below my heart. The fighting was still going on in our front at a terrific rate. Again and again our men charged the enemies' works, but were as often driven back. At one time Featherstone's brigade had to reform a few yards to the right of our battery, and could only muster 250 men. One more grand effort—a dashing charge and our men have carried the entrenchments. Kemper's men are holding their position without ammunition; Featherstone's brigade has melted away from 1,200 to 200; still our brave troops hold their position, and have captured many a piece of artillery. Night comes on, but still the fight continues—volley after volley of musketry pours its stream of death into our ranks, but our men cannot be driven back, and McClellan has to keep moving on. Our field of observation is so extremely limited, we can learn but little of the general plan of the battle or of the specific results. The wounded stragglers all pass through our battery and tell the same old tale of being "cut up," "badly whipped," etc., so that for a long time we were really in doubt whether we or the Yankees had been successful. The enemy fought bravely and contested the ground inch by inch. Our General, Featherstone, has been badly wounded. We have captured many prisoners and a number of pieces of artillery; also, a Brigadier-General by the name of McCall.

We spent the night on the field, and, for the season, it was bitterly cold.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, pp. 122-4

Diary of Private John C. West, Monday, May 11, 1863

Reached Montgomery this afternoon about 5:30, just too late for the cars, hence must be detained another night on the road. I walked up town a little while ago and met Mr. John A. Elmore; inquired about Culp, my old college chum, and found he was a lieutenant in the army at Vicksburg; his family is with his father-in-law. Heard here of "Stonewall" Jackson's death; it is a sad calamity for the south, but I doubt not God will raise up other great spirits to aid us with their counsels and to fight our battles for us. I wrote a letter on the steamboat, which I intended to hand to some one to mail across the Mississippi, or else mail it in Augusta.

SOURCE: John Camden West, A Texan in Search of a Fight: Being the Diary and Letters of a Private Soldier in Hood’s Texas Brigade, p. 37

Richard Brooke Garnett

Nephew of James Mercer Garnett (q. v.), and Robert Selden Garnett (q. v.); born in Virginia, in 1819; graduated from the United States Military Academy in 1841. He entered the army as second lieutenant, and served in the Florida war, and subsequently in the west. He was made first lieutenant in 1847, and later captain. He aided in quelling the Kansas disturbances in 1856-57; was engaged in the Utah expedition. He entered the Confederate service as major of artillery in 1861, and was promoted to brigadier-general the same year. He served in the Shenandoah Valley under Jackson, and at the battle of Kernstown commanded the Stonewall brigade. During and after the Maryland. campaign he commanded Pickett's brigade, which he finally led at Gettysburg, where he fell dead, shot from his horse in the midst of action. He died July 3, 1863.

SOURCE: Encyclopedia of Virginia Biography, Vol. 3, p. 53

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, May 15, 1863

May 15.

We get reports from rebel sources that Hooker has got into Richmond, that Stonewall Jackson was killed and Lee taken prisoner. Were all this true you might expect some of us home within a few months, but it is too good to believe.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 392

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, June 12, 1863

Hospital near Hamilton's Crossing, Va.,        

June 12, 1863.

Our corps is lying in line of battle in the trenches, and has been for six days. The Yankees are still on this side of the river. The picket lines are within speaking distance of each other and we exchange newspapers with them every day. I went there this morning and was never before so close to the enemy when in a hostile attitude. I saw the New York Illustrated News, and will try to get a copy to send to you. I stay out on the field with the troops during the day, but come back to the hospital at night.

Chaplain Beauchelle messes with Dr. Tyler and me while his messmates are out in the line. He and Tyler sleep together. Tyler is one of the most wicked and profane men I ever knew, but he is a very intelligent man and is generous and high-minded. His father educated him for the ministry, and he and the chaplain argue on Scripture at night. It is highly amusing, for he is hard to handle in an argument on Scripture.

I am told that all of our army has gone in the direction of Manassas except our corps (A. P. Hill's), which was formerly Stonewall Jackson's. It consists of Pender's, Heath's and Anderson's divisions, and is about twenty-five or thirty thousand strong. We can take care of any Yankee force which may come at us in our present position. I have not seen Edwin in two days, and suppose he is strengthening the entrenchments here and there where they may chance to be defective.

My father wrote me that George was the liveliest child he ever saw, and that it was a matter of rejoicing when you and George were seen coming.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 53-4

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, April 5, 1863

Camp near Rappahannock River, Va.,        

April 5, 1863.

The weather has been more disagreeable since the beginning of April than at any previous time this winter. The wind has blown almost incessantly and furiously at times. To-day is one of the windiest and most disagreeable that I ever saw. It is awful. I hope the wind will subside by night, or I am afraid it will blow my tent down. Yesterday when it was nearly night snow began falling, and with it there was a hurricane of wind, which continued through the night, and was terrific at times. I expected the tent to come down on Billie and me every moment, but it stood the gale finely, although it kept up a horrible flapping all night. The wind is still blowing to-day and the snow is several inches deep. Such weather as this will delay “Fighting Joe” Hooker's movements for some time, and it is so much the better for us.

There is now some scurvy in the army, which is caused by a lack of a vegetable diet. It is not serious yet and is easily cured if the men can get vegetables to eat.

We received orders from General Lee to be ready for an active campaign on the first of the month, by getting rid of all our surplus baggage. About one week ago I saw a Yankee balloon up on the other side of the river, and was told that General Lee had one up at the same time, but I did not see it. I do not believe we shall have so severe a campaign this spring and summer as we had last year, but I am more than willing to endure all the hardships again to be as victorious as we were then. You need have no apprehension that this army will ever meet with defeat while commanded by General Lee. General Jackson is a strict Presbyterian, but he is rather too much of a Napoleon Bonaparte in my estimation. Lee is the man, I assure you.

Dr. Kilgore and a great many others are extremely tired of this war, and he has succeeded in getting transferred to Macon, Ga. The surgeon who has taken his place is Dr. Tyler, a son of the former President of the United States. When the Thirteenth Regiment was formed there were six doctors and two bookkeepers in the medical department, and now every one of them has gone but myself.

I am glad that George is so bright and intelligent.

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 46-8

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, June 26, 1862

Camp near Richmond, Va.,        

June 26, 1862.

I returned to camp on Monday because we expected to have a fight. Our brigade was ordered away last night with two days' rations, but I am left behind with the sick. There are a great many sick men in the hospitals and they are dying by the thousands. Our regiment has lost about one hundred men since we came to Virginia.

The enemy threw shells all about our camp yesterday and killed two horses, but only one man. It was a great day between our batteries and those of the enemy. They fired all day long, but as it was all at long taw little damage was done. I went out this morning to view the enemy, and could see them and their breastworks very distinctly.

Since I began writing this letter I hear a terrific cannonading on the left wing of our army, and I believe the battle has opened. I am informed that General Jackson is about there and that a fight will certainly take place this week.

You must be cheerful and take things easy, because I believe the war will soon be ended.

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch , A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 14

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, June 29, 1862

Camp near Richmond, Va.,        

June 29, 1862.

I was correct in my last letter to you when I predicted that the great battle had commenced (Chickahominy or Gaines Mills). The conflict raged with great fury after I finished writing, and it lasted from three o'clock until ten that night. The cannonading was so continuous at one time that I could scarcely hear the musketry at all. There was one incessant boom and roar for three hours without any cessation. Next morning (28th) the battle began anew, but there was not nearly so much cannonading, because our men rushed upon the Yankees and took their cannon. The musketry, though, was terrific. It reminded me of myriads of hailstones falling upon a house top. I could see the smoke and the bombs burst in the air, and could hear the shouts of our men as they would capture the Yankee batteries.

Our brigade took the advance in the morning when the battle commenced, and after we routed them we did not get a chance to fight them again until we had driven them about eight or ten miles from where we started them. They rallied there and made a stand, but our troops rushed at them again and drove them to—God only knows where! A Yankee officer (a prisoner) told me they had no idea General Jackson was anywhere about here, and he acknowledged that General McClellan was completely outwitted. I tell you the Yankee "Napoleon” has been badly defeated.

Our colonel surprised his men by his bravery. My brother Billie is greatly mortified because he was too sick to be in the fight. He is still hardly able to walk. Our regiment had eight killed and forty wounded. Orr's Regiment and the First South Carolina were badly cut up in an attempt to capture a battery. (The former had 81 killed and 234 wounded, and the latter 20 killed and 125 wounded).

I was on the ground yesterday (Saturday) where some of the hardest fighting took place. The dead were lying everywhere and were very thick in some places. One of our regiments had camped in some woods there and the men were lying among the dead Yankees and seemed unconcerned.

The most saddening sight was the wounded at the hospitals, which were in various places on the battlefield. Not only are the houses full, but even the yards are covered with them. There are so many that most of them are much neglected. The people of Richmond are hauling them away as fast as possible. At one place I saw the Yankee wounded and their own surgeon attending to them. There are no crops or fences anywhere, and I saw nothing which had escaped the Yankees except one little Guinea fowl. I thought our army was bad enough, but the country over which the Yankees have been looks like some barren waste. On my way to the battlefield I met a negro who recognized me and told me that your brother Edwin was wounded in the breast and had gone to Richmond. I fear there is some truth in it.

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 15-7

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, August 12, 1862

Near Orange Court House, Va.,        

August 12, 1862.

While we are resting a little I will endeavor to write you a few lines. We have been moving about continuously since I wrote to you on the 8th inst., and have had some hard times, I assure you. Most of our hard marching has been during the night, but much of it has been in the heat of the day. We have had nothing to eat but crackers and bacon, and not nearly enough of that.

We first (on the 9th inst.) marched up into Culpeper County, and were within two miles of the battlefield (of Cedar Mountain). It was a brilliant victory for us, as two of their dead to one of ours were left on the field. On the way we met a great many prisoners, who were lively and jocose and seemed glad they were taken.

The weather has been fine, although very hot. We had one hard shower of rain, and everybody stood and took it, as there was nothing else we could do. Tell your brother he should be glad he was wounded, for it has saved him many great hardships. I never murmur at these trials, though, as long as I can have good health.

Last night we began falling back. I suppose it was some strategic move and that we will continue these active operations until a decisive fight takes place. General Jackson will not be outgeneraled, and I believe he is sure to defeat Pope. I saw him (Jackson) this morning. He is a very ordinary looking man.

I would like to write you a longer letter, but have not the time. We are now drawing rations, and as soon as we get our meat boiled will start again. I must close, as preparations are being made to leave, so good-by for this time.

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 17-9

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, August 18, 1862

Orange County, Va.,        

August 18, 1862.

On leaving our last camp we first went back five miles in a northerly direction to Orange Court House, and we thought Jackson intended to take us over the same road we had fallen back on a few days before; but from there we took the road to Fredericksburg. Then everyone said we were going to Fredericksburg. That was a mistake also, for after going about ten miles we turned to the left and went three miles toward the Rapidan River, and have stopped at this place. It is believed that Jackson intended to cross the river and flank Pope, and that the Yankees got wind of it. They were on a mountain and may have seen our large force moving. Jackson is a general who is full of resources, and if he fails in one plan he will try another.

The men stood the march better than at any previous time. The health of the brigade has improved since we are where we can breathe the pure mountain air. This beautiful country, with its mountains and rolling hills, is enough to make any sick man feel better. We all sleep out in the open air—officers as well as privates—although the weather is becoming quite cool and signs of autumn begin to appear. The crops of corn are magnificent and are almost matured, but wherever our army goes, roasting ears and green apples suffer. I have often read of how armies are disposed to pillage and plunder, but could never conceive of it before. Whenever we stop for twenty-four hours every corn field and orchard within two or three miles is completely stripped. The troops not only rob the fields, but they go to the houses and insist on being fed, until they eat up everything about a man's premises which can be eaten. Most of them pay for what they get at the houses, and are charged exorbitant prices, but a hungry soldier will give all he has for something to eat, and will then steal when hunger again harasses him. When in health and tormented by hunger he thinks of little else besides home and something to eat. He does not seem to dread the fatiguing marches and arduous duties.

A wounded soldier who has been in Jackson's army for a long time told me his men had but one suit of clothes each, and whenever a suit became very dirty the man would pull it off and wash it and then wait until it dried. I believe this to be a fact, because when I see Jackson's old troop on the march none have any load to carry except a blanket, and many do not even have a blanket; but they always appear to be in fine spirits and as healthy and clean as any of our men.The force we have here now is a mammoth one. I am told that Lee and Johnson are both here, and I am anxious for our army to engage Pope. Whenever we start on a march I am impatient to go on and fight it out, for we are confident we can whip the enemy.

We are now cooking up two days' rations and are ordered to have them in our haversacks and be ready to move at sundown, but we may not go at that time, because we sometimes receive such orders and then do not leave for a day or two. I will write again whenever I have a chance.

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 19-21