Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Saturday, May 3, 1862

Camp 5, Princeton. — The Forty-fifth Regiment had marched twenty miles through the rain to reach here, were very tired and straggled badly. They were regularly stampeded, panic-stricken, and routed. They report three killed in one party of stragglers. They had a cannon drawn by six horses, but our men “yelled so” and “fired so fast” that it was no place for cannon; so they wheeled it about and fled with it All queer! Company C killed eleven, Colonel Jenifer burned Rocky Gap (four houses) and continued his flight towards Wytheville. The Rebels report us two thousand cavalry and eight thousand infantry!! Got our tents today; got into a good camp overlooking the town.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 247-8

Diary of Dolly Lunt Burge: November 20, 1864

This is the blessed Sabbath, the day upon which He who came to bring peace and good will upon earth rose from His tomb and ascended to intercede for us poor fallen creatures. But how unlike this day to any that have preceded it in my once quiet home. I had watched all night, and the dawn found me watching for the moving of the soldiery that was encamped about us. Oh, how I dreaded those that were to pass, as I supposed they would straggle and complete the ruin that the others had commenced, for I had been repeatedly told that they would burn everything as they passed.

Some of my women had gathered up a chicken that the soldiers shot yesterday, and they cooked it with some yams for our breakfast, the guard complaining that we gave them no supper. They gave us some coffee, which I had to make in a tea-kettle, as every coffeepot is taken off. The rear-guard was commanded by Colonel Carlow, who changed our guard, leaving us one soldier while they were passing. They marched directly on, scarcely breaking ranks. Once a bucket of water was called for, but they drank without coming in.

About ten o'clock they had all passed save one, who came in and wanted coffee made, which was done, and he, too, went on. A few minutes elapsed, and two couriers riding rapidly passed back. Then, presently, more soldiers came by, and this ended the passing of Sherman's army by my place, leaving me poorer by thirty thousand dollars than I was yesterday morning. And a much stronger Rebel!

After the excitement was a little over, I went up to Mrs. Laura's to sympathize with her, for I had no doubt but that her husband was hanged. She thought so, and we could see no way for his escape. We all took a good cry together. While there, I saw smoke looming up in the direction of my home, and thought surely the fiends had done their work ere they left. I ran as fast as I could, but soon saw that the fire was below my home. It proved to be the gin house [cotton gin] belonging to Colonel Pitts.

My boys have not come home. I fear they cannot get away from the soldiers. Two of my cows came up this morning, but were driven off again by the Yankees.

I feel so thankful that I have not been burned out that I have tried to spend the remainder of the day as the Sabbath ought to be spent. Ate dinner out of the oven in Julia's [the cook's] house, some stew, no bread. She is boiling some corn. My poor servants feel so badly at losing what they have worked for; meat, the hog meat that they love better than anything else, is all gone.

SOURCE: Dolly Lunt Burge, A Woman's Wartime Journal, p. 32-6

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Tuesday, May 19, 1863

The landlord of the Bowmont House gave a breakfast at 7 A.M. to General Gist and his Staff, to which I also was invited.

Shortly afterwards I was given a seat in a curious little vehicle belonging to Lieutenant Martino, a Spaniard, in the Confederate army. This vehicle caused considerable merriment amongst the soldiers, who called it a chicken-waggon.

We left Jackson with the leading troops about 8 A.M., amidst a great waving of handkerchiefs and showers of flowers, thrown by the few remaining ladies who were still left in that dilapidated place.

The corps under General Gist consisted of three weak brigades, the leading one composed of Georgians and South Carolinians; the next were Texans, under General Ector; and the last were Arkansians, under General M'Nair. General Gist had twelve good-looking Napoleon guns with him (twelve-pounders). The horses were fine animals, and were in wonderful good condition, considering that they had been ten days in the railroad coming from South Carolina.

The troops were roughly but efficiently clothed; their boots were in good order, and all were armed with Enfield rifles.

The weather was very hot, and we were halted to bivouac for the night, at a spot about seventeen miles from Jackson, on the road towards Vicksburg.

The straggling of the Georgians was on the grandest scale conceivable; the men fell out by dozens, and seemed to suit their own convenience in that respect, without interference on the part of the officers. But I was told that these regiments had never done any marching before, having hitherto been quartered in forts and transported by railroad.

The country is much covered with woods, and is sandy, with very little water.

I did not consider that the troops were marched judiciously; they were halted too long at a time, and not often enough. The baggage was carried on country carts pressed into the service.

We bivouacked in the woods near a very pretty house, belonging to a planter called Colonel Robinson. These immense woods make admirable bivouacs.

General State Rights Gist is a South Carolinian, only thirty-two years of age, and although not educated as a soldier, he seems easily to have adapted himself to the military profession. He looks a determined man, and he takes responsibility very coolly. In the early part of the day he was very doubtful as to the exact whereabouts of General Johnston; but about noon a courier arrived, from whom he received important and satisfactory information, otherwise General Gist had made up his mind for some “nasty work” before the junction could be effected. He told me that the present expedition was rather inconvenient to him, as he had only been married three days before he left Charleston. He lent me a magnificent rug, and I slept very comfortably in the open air for the first time since I was in Texas.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 112-4

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Monday, February 8, 1864

Chilly and cloudy; don't feel very well to-day, nor does anyone else; all stiff and lame; don't wonder at it for we had to march through mud and water ankle deep or more last night from the Rapidan without a rest. The regiments were completely disorganized; officers and men all got lost from their commands and both struggled and straggled into camp as best they could. It was a mob and a disgrace to the Third Corps.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 16-7

Memoranda of John M. Forbes: Minor Reforms Needed, September, 1862.

Minor Reforms Needed. September, 1862.

1st. Drunken officers. The public, rightly or wrongly, attribute part of the mischief at Bull Run to one, Colonel M., commanding the reserve. . . . If there be no time for courts-martial, why not quietly shelve every drunkard?

2d. Skulkers. The President found at Harrison's Bar half his army unaccounted for. The papers tell of crowds of stragglers helping to make panics in each battle. The enemy shoot their stragglers. We might at least drop, if not from a tree by a rope, at least from the army list, every skulking officer. . . . The inclosed cutting gives a hint of where the record can be found (the Marshall House and City Hotel, Alexandria) of the doings of 135 officers on Sunday, August 31, when our army was in its greatest peril. Why not call on each to account satisfactorily for his being there on that day? In short, why not have an efficient police system to correct this crying evil?

3d. Spies. The spies have thus far slain more than any other arm of the enemy. We hear of one, a famous guerilla, being condemned to die in Missouri; but it looks like a mere excuse for punishing other crimes. Several have been imprisoned, some compelled to take the oath!! but not one choked to death, — they probably being practised in swallowing hard oaths! We see accounts from Norfolk of three rebel mail carriers caught passing our lines “with private letters only, nothing of public interest,” and these will doubtless be leniently dealt with! Who can say what dangerous cipher those private letters carried? or whether the real object of their mission — a short military dispatch — was not swallowed or destroyed? . . . Shall we encourage spies and informers by continued leniency toward mail carriers from our lines to the enemy's? Washington thought it necessary to hang the noble André. Can it be doubted that the enemy destroy without any compunction any of our spies or “mail carriers”? We hang a man for the doubtful military crime of hauling down a flag, and we let pass free, or punish lightly, men who, by all military usages, and by the dictates of common sense, deserve the heaviest punishment. Half a dozen spies hanged would have saved as many thousand lives, and have given confidence to our own people and soldiers in the earnestness of their leaders, civil and military. It is not too late to begin.

4th. Robbers, in the shape of contractors, and of army officers receiving commissions [on purchases or sales for the government]; in short, the army worms of our military wheat. Of course, eternal vigilance is the only remedy for this disease. How would it do, as a sort of scarecrow at least, to insert a clause in each contract, that the contractor becomes by signing it subject to martial law, both as to his person and property? Without legislation it would not be binding, but many, nay, most of the new contracts will run beyond the meeting of the next Congress, when we may have a law for it, and by signing such a contract, agreeing to be amenable, the party could not complain that the law was ex post facto.

We who are paying taxes feel that the army contractors and the commission-receiving officers are eating us up. The soldier feels it in his bare feet and back, and sometimes in his empty stomach, and a hint from the Department would surely give us such a law during the first week of the session. The enemy does not tolerate drunken generals, stragglers, spies, or thieving contractors. Let us remember the old proverb, “Fas est et ab hoste doceri.”

SOURCE: Sarah Forbes Hughes, Letters and Recollections of John Murray Forbes, Volume 1, p. 328-31

Major Wilder Dwight: Friday Evening, October 25, 1861

Camp Near Conrad's Ferry, October 25,

Friday Evening.

I shall try to send you some, pictures, though I am too tired to-night for anything but sleep.

Scene, our old camp; time, evening. The regiment just getting into marching array under crisp starlight. The men gay with singing and laughter. The camp one huge bonfire of old bedding and tent-floors. Every man in fine marching condition. Again: Scene, the bank of the canal at Conrad's Ferry; time, eight o'clock the next morning. The regiment huddled in dripping groups, under a driving rain. The men tired and silent. Ambulances of wounded men passing by. Blankets swung on poles, covering the bodies of the slain, and borne along with that heavy, dull tread which betokens the presence of death. Jaded stragglers from the river hurrying back, cold and half naked, to their camps; the interchange of greetings and tidings. The Colonel and other field-officers huddled under an apple tree, breakfasting upon a hard-boiled egg, and shivering over a feeble fire, questioning stragglers about the fight. Up comes a Yankee-looking fellow, clad only in an overcoat, with that peculiar hunched-up movement which indicates shuddering cold. Dialogue between Colonel Gordon and Yankee. Colonel G. Where do you come from? Y. The river. G. What regiment? Y. Massachusetts Fifteenth. G. Did you fight? Y. Wal, I guess we did some. G. How many times did you fire? Y. Thirty or forty. G. What did you do during the day? Y. Wal, at first we was skirmishing along, and I got behind a tree, and I was doing first rate. I come out once, but I see a feller sightin' at me, and so I got in again suddin. Then, arter a while, the cavalry came down on us. I see there wa'n't much chance, and so I just dropped into a hole there was there, and stayed still. Pretty soon we retreated towards the river. We got together there, and formed a kind of a line, and then the fitin' really began. Some fellers came out near us, and says they, “We 're Colonel Baker's men.” “Guess not,” says I. “Yes we are,” says they. “I know better,” says I. “Let 'er rip, boys!” and we fired on 'em. But 't wa'n't no kind o' use. Baker got killed, and we couldn't see the enemy, and they raked us like death. I finally come down the bank with the rest on 'em. I see Colonel Devens there. Says I, “Colonel, wot's to be done now?” “Boys,” says he, “you must take care of yourselves.” “All right, Colonel,” says I. And the way my 'couterments come off was a caution. I swum the river. But I tell you there was a sight on 'em didn't get across.” G. Do you want to go back again? Y. Wal, not till I get rested. G. You 're cold, ain't you? Y. I tell you, I just am. G. Don't you want some whiskey? Y. Don't I? (Yankee takes a pull at the Colonel's flask, and expresses himself only by a long, silent, intensely meaning wink.) Yankee then turns and sees a shivering figure approaching. “Hullo, John; I never expected to see you again. Wal, I guess we'd better go to camp,” and off he moves. The drollery of the scene I cannot give. I just indicate an outline of the cool, circumstantial narratives that every other man would give you. We found none so amusing as this, which relieved our tedious breakfast. But the men showed no fear, and, only by an occasional allusion, any sense of the terrors through which some of them had passed. Their only idea seemed to be, If there only had been more of us, how we would have licked 'em! All accounts agree that the two Massachusetts regiments fought splendidly, as far as individual daring and coolness go.

I sent you off a letter yesterday; for I must continue my story without a formal introduction of each picture. I mailed the letter with the ink wet upon it, and went off on my duty to the river, to take charge of my picket-line along the canal. But as tattoo is now beating, and as I put on my clothes in Washington on Monday morning and have not yet taken them off this Friday night, I will tell the rest of my story to-morrow.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 123-4

General Joseph E. Johnston to Senator Louis T. Wigfall, January 26, 1863

Chattanooga, Jany. 26th, 1863.

My dear Wigfall:

I have asked the government by telegraph if any additional troops, new or old, can be furnished for Bragg's Army, but have had no reply. Will you suggest to Mr. Seddon that we are in a very critical condition in Tennessee? The enemy has fully supplied his losses, I am officially informed, while our army has received stragglers and exchanged prisoners amounting to about a third of our killed and wounded. Such being the case, if there is any truth in arithmetic, another battle must drive us still farther back. If driven across the Cumberland Mountains we can not hold East Tennessee and once in possession of that country Rosecranz may choose his point on our South Eastern or Eastern frontier from Richmond to Mobile. It is of the utmost importance therefore to reinforce Bragg. The conscription is operating very slowly. Can no mode of expediting its enforcement be adopted? I cannot draw upon Pemberton, for his force is far too small now. I proposed the bringing to him 18,000 or 20,000 troops from Arkansas, none of whom ever came. The enemy is again at Vicksburg, too, in heavier force, and doubtless with a different plan — probably to attempt to attack from below instead of from the Yazoo.

Bragg has done wonders, I think — no body of troops has done more in proportion to numbers in the same time. At Murfreesboro’ he killed, wounded and took 17,000 and within the three weeks preceding 7,500. His own loss in all that time about 9,000. My own official position does not improve on acquaintance. It is little, if any, better than being laid on the shelf. I have endeavored to explain this to the President, but he thinks it essential to have one here who can transfer troops from this department to Pemberton's and vice-versa. That would be extremely well if either department could possibly spare troops, even for a short time, but that is not the case, each having too few for immediate purposes and the distance and character of the intermediate country such as completely prevents them from aiding each other, except an occasional cavalry movement. It is an attempt to join things which cannot be united. It would require at least a month to send 10,000 men from one of the two armies to the other. Each department having its own commander and requiring—indeed having room but for one. You perceive how little occupation I can find. I can not unite the two armies — because they are too far apart, and each is required where it is. Nor can I take command of one because each has its proper commander, and yet the country may hold me responsible for any failure between North Carolina and Georgia and the Mississippi, for I am supposed to be commanding in all that country. After commanding our most important, and I may add, best army for a year, it is hard to lose that command for wounds in battle and to receive a nominal one. I must confess I cannot help repining at this position. The President, however, evidently intends that I shall hold a high position and important one; but I think he mistakes the relation between Tennessee and Mississippi.

I flatter myself that I have never been so garrulous before and won't be so again.

We rarely see Richmond papers, so I don't know what you are doing for us. My cordial regards to Mrs. Wigfall and the young ladies.

If you can help me out of my present place I shall love you more than ever. It will require diplomacy and cunning, however, and I don't think you strong in the latter.

Yours truly,

J. E. Johnston.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 121-3

General Joseph E. Johnston to Senator Louis T. Wigfall, December 15, 1862

chattanooga, Dec. 15, 1862.

My dear Wigfall:

On my return from Murfreesboro' a day or two ago I had the pleasure to find your letter, and the President. The latter is on a military tour, and has taken immediate command in this country. Unless he is greatly mistaken Mr. Seddon has not carried our point and reinforced Pemberton with Holmes's troops. On the contrary he says that H. has not had orders on the subject — requests or suggestions instead — which he thinks himself unable to comply with and therefore will not comply with. Pemberton must be reinforced. I have no other resource than the troops on this front, and must draw upon them. This has blown away some tall castles in the air. I have been dreaming of crushing Grant with Holmes's and Pemberton's troops, sending the former into Missouri, and with the latter, Bragg and Kirby Smith, marching to the Ohio. Our troops beyond the Mississippi seem to be living in great tranquillity.

Bragg's troops are in fine condition. Healthy looking and well clothed. In fine spirits too. I see no evidence of the want of confidence and dissatisfaction of which we heard so much in Richmond.

A great mistake has been made in the arrangement of my command. Mississippi and Arkansas should have been united to form it. Not this state and Mississippi, which are divided by (to us) an impassable river and impracticable country. The troops in Middle Tennessee could reach Fredericksburg much sooner than Mississippi. Then Genl. Holmes's communications depend upon our possession of the Mississippi. It is certainly his business to at least assist in the maintenance of his communications. The troops in Arkansas, as having a common object, could be naturally united.

You perhaps see no special object on my part in troubling you with this, and in truth I have no other than putting my troubles before one, who has a head to comprehend grand war, and a heart to sympathize with me.

I start, this afternoon, to Pemberton's Army. About 9,000 men are ordered from Bragg's — and I hope to bring back a great many stragglers who are scattered over the country S. W. of us.

A telegram from the War Department to the President gave us information of the fighting at Fredericksburg on Saturday. What luck some people have. Nobody will ever come to attack me in such a place.

Mrs. J. wrote to Mrs. Wigfall a day or two ago. This mild climate is very favorable to her. She is in excellent health and spirits.

I hope that you have good accounts of Halsey — of his health, I mean, for professionally there can be no doubt. Present me cordially to Mrs. Wigfall and the young ladies.

Very truly yours,

J. E. Johnston.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 104-6

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: July 30, 1864

This morning opens up very hot. Having a rest. Trying to break in my new shoes. A bad job for the feet, which are very sore. Early this afternoon, marching orders received. Confederate cavalry reported to be raiding into Pennsylvania and upper Maryland. Ordered to make a forced march. Fearful hot as we break camp and begin the march. Pushing on over Bolivar Heights down through Harper's Ferry, over the railroad bridge into Maryland. Many of the boys are dropping out on account of the severe heat, the sun beating down on us, and no air. New shoes, woolen stockings, sore feet, make me about sick, while pushing along. I was obliged to drop out by the roadside. A member of our company, George W. Cross, said he would drop out and stick to me. After the sun went down we pushed along. Came to a brook of good cold water. Gave my feet a good bath, after which I was able to push on. Found the regiment in camp for the night, after making a forced march of sixteen miles. Glad to get my shoes and stockings off for the night and get a little rest.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 107-8

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: Sunday Morning, July 31, 1864

Sunday morning, but hot and dusty. Early on the march. About 9 A. M. we marched through Middletown, a fine place. There are many people in this town, dressed in their good clothes, watching us as we pass on, a dusty crowd. They all have a sad look in their faces. Keep very quiet, not a smile nor a cheer. We cannot tell whether they are in sympathy with us or are against us. We are reminded of our old homes in good old Connecticut. We soon passed through the town, out on the dusty hot roads. Between the hot sun and the dust many of the boys are giving out, dropping by the roadside. Some are picked up by the Ambulance Corps. Those who need a little rest, push on. This is a fine section of Maryland. Night coming on we go into woodland to camp. Don't know the location, but believe we must be near the Pennsylvania state line. It is estimated we have marched about fifteen miles.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 108-9

Major Wilder Dwight: Friday, August 23, 1861

Buckeyestown, August 23, 1861, Friday, in Camp.

I began a letter before breakfast this morning, but my pen dragged so that I tore it up. Now I have a short time, and perhaps not a long story, but certainly a good breakfast to tell it on. And this same matter of a good breakfast is not a small one. The foraging on a march is not easy. Chickens and eggs and bread and butter and milk, &c, all have to be extemporized by our darkies, as we go along. Sometimes we do well; sometimes, badly. This morning, being bent on eggs, I sent my little English groom off on horseback. He went to a farm-house, into a hen-yard, and waited for cackling. Presently he returned, and said : “I've an egg for ye, sir. I waited till the hen laid it, and then brought the hen and the egg.” That is close work, I think.

I sent you a letter Wednesday morning. Immediately after came marching orders. I hurried off on horseback to call in our scattered forces. First, I went to Harper's Ferry, and found Colonel Andrews destroying our friend Herr's mill. Herr was very sombre. His little boy, with whom I have a friendship, rushed up to me, and said chokingly: “It is too bad to destroy the mill; but it's the secessionists that's the cause of it, isn't it, Major?” I told him, Yes. Andrews was breaking the buckets of the turbine wheel, and smashing the gearing of the mill. He had Company A, from Lowell, who are the mechanics of our regiment. He was sorry to be interrupted, but there was no remedy, and so off he came.

Then I went back and off on to Battery Hill to get the artillery off; then again to recall an outlying picket on top of the mountain; then galloped back to camp to see about rations; then, at last, the regiment got in marching array. The day was bright and cool, — the regiment moved off at twelve o'clock. Hard bread in haversacks, and hoping for something better. Money in pocket, and, 1 am sorry to say, an occasional excess of whiskey in a guilty canteen. Pay-day has its evils, as I thought when directing two drunken men to be tied and put in a wagon.

We made a brisk march of twelve miles to Jefferson. There we spent the night. The next morning, after a tedious delay in a depressing rain to get our wagons mended, we again moved on up, up, up a long hill in a close, muggy dog-day. The men's knapsacks pulled on them, and when we came on to our present camping-ground, at four o'clock, there was a long trail of lame ducks behind. They soon came in, and now are looking forward to another tramp.

The panic-stricken women and children pursued us, as we came away from Harper's Ferry, not daring to remain without our protection. The Rebels are foraging all through the country there; but nothing more than that appears to be done anywhere, though rumor is trumpet-tongued with reports of armies large enough to conquer the hemisphere. Mark my prophecy. Beauregard lacks transportation. He cannot move one hundred thousand men across the Potomac. This has prevented and will prevent his active operations. But it is not improbable that there will be skirmishes along the river.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 81-2

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, March 31, 1865

March 31, 1865

The rain held up about ten A.M. and the sun once more shone. By this time our lines, running east and west, had been moved due north, till they rested their right on Hatcher's Run, north of the Crow house, and their left on the Boydton plank, near the entrance of the Quaker road. For this purpose Ayres's and Crawford's divisions were pushed forward and Griffin held in reserve. We rode out, towards the left (our Headquarters were near the Vaughan road close to Gravelly Run), stopping some time to consult with Grant. About 10.30 we heard a brief fusillade on the right of our line (a demonstration to divert our attention), followed by heavy musketry towards the White Oak road. As we came to Warren's old Headquarters, high up on the Quaker road, I could see something had gone wrong. A cavalry officer galloped up and said: “I must have more men to stop these stragglers! the road is full of them.” And indeed there were those infernal drummers, and pack-mules, and not a few armed men, training sulkily to the rear. I required no one to tell me what that meant. The enemy had tried on Griffin, two days since, without success, but this time they had repeated the game on Ayres and Crawford, with a different result. As these two divisions were moving through the thick woods, they were suddenly charged, broken, and driven back towards the Boydton plank road; but some batteries being brought to their aid, the men were rallied behind a branch of Gravelly Run. Griffin took up a rear line, to ensure the position. General Meade at once ordered Miles to go in, to the right of the 5th Corps, and Griffin to advance likewise. The General rode out in person to give Humphreys the necessary orders about Miles's division, and found him at Mrs. Ramie's, at the junction of the Quaker road and the plank. There was a wide open in front, and I could see, not far off, the great tree where we got such an awful shelling, at the first Hatcher's Run fight. Miles was in the open, forming his troops for the attack. Just then the enemy opened a battery on us, with solid shot, several of which came ricocheting round us. I recollect I turned just then and saw Charlie Mills sitting on horseback, near General Humphreys. He nodded and smiled at me. Immediately after, General Meade rode to a rising ground a couple of hundred yards from the house, while General Humphreys went a short distance to the front, in the field. Almost at that instant a round shot passed through Humphreys' Staff and struck Mills in the side, and he fell dead from his horse. He was indeed an excellent and spirited young man and beloved by us all.  . . . When I rode that evening to the hospital, and saw the poor boy lying there on the ground, it made me think of Abbot, a year ago. It is the same thing over and over again. And strange too, this seeing a young man in full flush of robust health, and the next moment nothing that we can make out but the broken machine that the soul once put in motion. Yet this is better than that end in which the faculties, once brilliant, gradually fade, month after month.

About noon, Miles and Griffin went in, with sharp firing, drove the enemy back, and made a lodgment on the White Oak road. Meantime, Sheridan, after all sorts of mud toils, got north of Dinwiddie, where he was attacked by a heavy force of infantry and cavalry and forced back nearly to that place. Not to forgo our advantage on the northwest, we immediately sent the whole 5th Corps by night to Dinwiddie to report to General Sheridan and attack the enemy next morning — a hard march after the two days' fighting in the storm!

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 330-2

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

December 12, 1864

Clear and cold we have had it this day, blowy this morning but still in the evening. Last night it blew in a tremendous manner. My tent flapped in a way that reminded one of being at sea, and my chimney, for the first time got mad and actually smoked. My only consolation was that the General's smoked a great deal worse. He made quite a bon-mot at breakfast, despite the smoke: “Grant says the Confederates, in their endeavors to get men, have robbed the cradle and the grave; if that is the case, I must say their ghosts and babies fight very well!” I did not fail to ride out and see the raiders come in. The head of the column arrived about noon, or an hour before. I was much amused by a battery, the first thing that I met; one of the drivers was deeply intent on getting his pair of horses over a bad bridge, but, midst all his anxiety and pains on this head, he did not fail to keep tight hold of a very old rush-bottomed chair, which he carefully held in one hand! How far he had brought it or what he meant to do with it, I know not, but his face wore an expression which said: “You may take my life but you can't have this very old rush-bottomed chair which I have been at much pains to steal.” Then came the infantry, with a good deal of weary straggling, and looking pretty cold, poor fellows; then another battery spattered with mud; then a drove of beef cattle, in the midst of which marched cows, calves, and steers that never more will graze on Rebel farms. Finally a posse of stragglers and ambulances and waggons, all putting the best speed on to get to a camping-place. I pitied the poor bucks who, for six days, had endured every fatigue and hardship.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 297-8

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

December 10, 1864

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

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

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

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

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, December 9, 1864

Miles's division of the 2d Corps was sent to aid the cavalry in forcing Hatcher's Run. They marched out early and found several regiments holding the crossing; a severe skirmish followed; our poor men went into the icy water up to their armpits and drove off the Rebels, though not without some loss to us. I know the cavalry Lieutenant, whom I saw bringing in all those stragglers last night, was killed there. Then Miles built a bridge and sent over the cavalry, which went as far as within sight of the Boydton plank, where they found the enemy in their works. They captured a Rebel mail-carrier and from him learned that A. P. Hill was yesterday at Dinwiddie. General Meade had to read all the letters, of course, and said there was one poor lover who promised to marry his sweetheart when the war was over, but “how could he support her now, on $12 a month?” We sent out another body of infantry and our own “red-legs” and the engineers, to support Miles, who we thought would be attacked. They all spent the night midst a wretched snow, sleet and rain, and raw wind.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 292-3

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, December 8, 1864

December 8, 1864

There came down an elephant of a young Englishman, who, if there be brains in his skull, they are so well concealed that nobody has found them hereabout. To entertain him is like rolling a barrel of potatoes up a steep hill. Nevertheless, he is a Lieutenant of Engineers. I should think he might construct an earthwork in, say, a century. I fancy he has played out all his intellect in trying to spell and pronounce his own name which is the euphonious one of S-tt-rthw—t; you will find it gives you a cramp in your tongue to pronounce it. Query — would it not be for the best interests of the human race to drown all Englishmen? Gibbon's division of the 2d Corps got in a towering passion, because, having erected log huts just a little way outside the line of parapet, they were ordered to pull them all down and come inside, for of course these huts would give cover to an attacking enemy. This was what I call a stupid thing all round. Stupid in the infantry commanders to allow it; stupid in the inspectors not to see it; stupid in the artillerists and engineers not to stop it — in fact, stupid all round. Gibbon came over and pitched into Duane, who received the attack with stolidity; so Gibbon thought he would get good-natured. At evening I had the greatest sight at a lot of stragglers that ever I did. It is always customary, when possible, to sweep the path of a column and gather up all stragglers, but I never before had a chance to see the leavings of a large force, marching by a single road. When Warren got to the Nottaway, he took up his pontoons behind him, so that the laggards, who were toddling leisurely behind, as well as those who really had no intention of catching up till their rations were out, were all caught on the north side. General Warren sent back about 100 cavalry to sweep the whole road and bring the men back to the lines: and after dark, they arrived, looking, in the dusk, like a large brigade. Schuyler, the Provost-Marshal, put them in ranks, had them sorted and counted, and there proved to be 856! Their way was not made soft to them. They were marched three miles more, making twenty in all, and were then put out on picket in a right frosty night. This seems a large number, and it is more than it ought to be, a great deal; but, in reality it only made four and a half men out of every 100 in Warren's force. That they were able to go on is proved by the fact that they were able to come back, though some did limp merrily, and others were so stiff that, when once down, they could scarcely get up. A force of a few hundred cavalry was sent in the afternoon down the Vaughan road to reconnoitre, and see if they could see that any troops were moving against our rear, or against Warren. They got at dusk to Hatcher's Run, where the opposite bank was held by the enemy in a breastwork; and, after losing half a dozen men, our cavalry came back.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 291-2

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, April 3, 1865

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, April 3, 1865.

The telegraph will have conveyed to you, long before this reaches you, the joyful intelligence that Petersburg and Richmond have fallen, and that Lee, broken and dispirited, has retreated towards Lynchburg and Danville. We have had three glorious days, the fighting not so severe as much we have done before, but in the results. We are now moving after Lee, and if we are successful in striking him another blow before he can rally his troops, I think the Confederacy will be at an end.

George¹ is quite well, having left his uncle at City Point, where it was deemed advisable he should stop for awhile. Willie² was doing very well, and is not considered in any danger.

Markoe Bache arrived this morning just in time to march into Petersburg with us.

The strong demonstration we made on Lee's right caused him so to attenuate his lines that, notwithstanding their strength, we broke through his left, and poured in such a force that he had to fly to save himself. He was fortunate in keeping us out of the town till dark, which enabled him to get over the Appomattox what remained of his army. The last estimate of our prisoners amounted to fifteen thousand, and deserters and stragglers are being picked up by the thousands. Let us hope the war will soon be over.

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¹ Son of General Meade.

² Brother of Mrs. Meade.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 269

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

August 13, 1864

. . . I rode over to make some enquiry about Colonel Weld, of Loring, at Burnside's Headquarters. As I drew near, I heard the sound as of minstrelsy and playing on the psaltry and upon the harp; to wit, a brass band, tooting away at a great rate. This was an unaccustomed noise, for Burnside is commonly not musical, and I was speculating on the subject when, on entering the circle of tents, I beheld a collection of Generals — not only Burnside, but also Potter, Willcox, and Ferrero. Speaking of this last, did you hear what the negro straggler remarked, when arrested by the Provost-Guard near City Point, on the day of the assault, and asked what he was doing there. “Well, saar, I will displain myself. You see, fus’ I was subjoined to Ginral Burnside; an' den I was disseminated to Ginral Pharo. We wus advancing up towards der front, an' I, as it might be, loitered a little. Presently I see some of our boys a-runnin’ back. ‘Ho, ho,’ sez I, ‘run is your word, is it?’ So I jes separates myself from my gun and I re-tires to dis spot.”

Well, there was “Ginral Pharo” taking a drink, and an appearance was about as of packing. Whereat I presently discovered, through the joyous Captain Pell (who asked me tauntingly if he could “do anything for me at Newport”), that Burnside and his Staff were all going on a thirty-day leave, which will extend itself, I fancy, indefinitely, so far as this army goes. On my return I found two fat civilians and a lean one. Fat number one was Mr. Otto, Assistant Secretary of the Interior; Fat number two, a Professor Matile, a Swiss of Neufchatel, and friend of Agassiz (you perhaps remember the delicious wine of that place). The lean was Mr. Falls, what I should call Mr. Otto's “striker,” that being the name of an officer's servant or hanger-on. Mr. Falls was very chatty and interrogative, following every sentence by “Is it not?” So that finally I felt obliged always to reply, “No, it isn't.” I scared him very much by tales of the immense distances that missiles flew, rather implying that he might look for a pretty brisk shower of them, about the time he got fairly asleep. Professor Matile was bright enough to be one of those who engaged in the brilliant scheme of Pourtales Steiger to seize the chateau of Neufchatel on behalf of the King of Prussia. Consequently he since has retired to this country and has now a position as examiner at the Patent Office. Mr. Otto was really encouraging to look at. He did not chew tobacco, or talk politics, or use bad grammar; but was well educated and spake French and German. General Butler, having a luminous idea to get above the Howlett house batteries by cutting a ship canal across Dutch Gap, has called for volunteers, at an increased rate of pay. Whereupon the Rebel rams come down and shell the extra-pay volunteers, with their big guns; and we hear the distant booming very distinctly. I think when Butler gets his canal cleverly through, he will find fresh batteries, ready to rake it, and plenty more above it, on the river. The Richmond papers make merry, and say it will increase their commerce.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 211

Lieutenant Colonel Ely S. Parker to Major General George G. Meade, April 2, 1865

GRANT'S HEADQUARTERS,

April 2, 1865.

Major-General MEADE:

The following just received:

Brigadier-General RAWLINS:

General Sheridan desired me to inform you that the Second Corps is marching up the Boydton road toward Petersburg, and that Lee and his forces are moving, this direction. We have come up to their rear guard, about two miles on the Claiborne road from their works in front of that road probably; but few stragglers.

P. T. HUDSON,

Aide-de-Camp.

11 A.M.

Miles has carried all the main works on the Claiburne road. We are following the enemy up that road. The enemy evacuated the works about 10 o'clock. Will send particulars as soon as heard.

P. T. HUDSON,

Aide-de-Camp.

E. S. PARKER,

Lieutenant-Colonel and Acting Assistant Adjutant-General.

SOURCE: Arthur Caswell Parker, The Life of General Ely S. Parker, p. 123; The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 46, Part 3 (Serial No. 97), p. 457

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

July 12, 1864

I sent off a detail of fifty men at daylight to prepare the ground for the new camp, and at eight o'clock, the waggons moved off with all our worldly effects, and the Staff remained under the shade of the abandoned gourbis.¹ We live very much after the way of Arabs, when you think of it — nomadic, staying sometimes a day, sometimes a month in a place, and then leaving it, with all the bowers and wells that cost so much pains. Afterwards most of the officers went to the new camp, while the General, with two or three of us, went down the road, towards the Williams house. There was an odd group at Hancock's temporary Headquarters, by a little half-torn-to-pieces house, on whose walls some fellow had inscribed “the Straggler's Rest.” Hancock lay, at full length, in a covered waggon, which had been placed under a weeping willow, one of the few green objects midst the desert of dust. He was attired in a white shirt and blue flannel pantaloons, quite enough for the intensely hot day. He lies down as much as he can, to give his wounded leg rest. General Meade mounted on the front seat, put his feet on the foot-board and lighted a cigar; and we all knew he was fixed for an hour at least. When he gets down with Hancock they talk, and talk, and talk, being great friends. Hancock is a very great and vehement talker but always says something worth hearing. Under the ruined porch was Barlow, in his costume d’été — checked shirt and old blue trousers, with a huge sabre, which he says he likes, because when he hits a straggler he wants to hurt him. He immediately began to pump the Captain Guzman, for he never neglects a chance to get information. After we had been well fried and dusted, General Meade rose to go, but I budged not, for I knew he would sit down again. He always rises twice or three times before he finally leaves Hancock. By the time we got to camp, it was all ready and looked quite neat.

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¹ An Algerine word for a bower over a tent.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 189-90