Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Saturday, July 9, 1864

The rebels left their rifle pits in the night and crossed the Chattahoochee river.¹

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¹ General Sherman always moved his army by the right or left flank when he found the Confederate fortifications in front too strong to make a charge, and in that way the enemy had to fall back, leaving their strong position. — A. G. D.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 204

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, June 26, 1864

There was very little cannonading and skirmishing today. We drew two days' rations with orders to be ready to march at a moment's warning. Several brigades of the Fifteenth Army Corps are moving out to the rear, but we do not know their destination. The health of the troops is fine, although they are much fatigued. We have a great many wounded at the hospital, but it is reported that they are getting along fine.

May God hasten the day when this cruel war will be brought to a close, so that our nation may enjoy peace once more. May He hasten the day when the rebels will lay down their arms and return again to their homes. But we must remember that there may be many men yet who will fall for their country before it is free from this accursed secession. May God be with us and help us as we stand in need, for He is a God of battles.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 201

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Wednesday, June 22, 1864

It has cleared off and is quite warm today. The rebels commenced shelling us this morning, but did little damage, as their shells fell short of our lines, on account of their insufficient charges of powder, we suppose, and because their guns are too small to stand heavier charges. Our batteries opened up and exchanged shots with them for about two hours. Our men commenced throwing up heavy earthworks this evening. Company C went out on picket this evening. There have been no trains coming in to Big Shanty for the last two days on account of the rebels' destroying the railroad on this side of Chattanooga; but it will be repaired in a few days. Our army draws full rations with the exception of meat, of which we are allowed but three-fifths rations.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 200

Diary of Gideon Welles: Saturday, September 6, 1862

We have information that the Rebels have crossed the Potomac in considerable force, with a view of invading Maryland and pushing on into Pennsylvania. The War Department is bewildered, knows but little, does nothing, proposes nothing.

Our army is passing north. This evening some twenty or thirty thousand passed my house within three hours. There was design in having them come up from Pennsylvania Avenue to H Street, and pass by McClellan's house, which is at the corner of H and 15th. They cheered the General lustily, instead of passing by the White House and honoring the President.

Have unpleasant information concerning privateers, which are getting abroad by connivance of the British authorities. Am trying to get Wilkes off as speedily as possible. Wrote out his orders and instructions this evening to cruise with a squadron in the Bahamas and West Indies for certain vessels of no recognized nationality that were preparing to prey on our commerce. Will get them copied and in his hands on Monday. As an additional hint, told him to-day I wished he could get off on Monday.

McClellan and his partisans have ascendency in the army, but he has lost ground in the confidence of the country, chiefly from delays, or what the President aptly terms the “slows.”

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 111

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, December 14, 1864

December 14, 1864

General Winthrop [in speaking of Warren's operations] said his brigade bivouacked in a cornfield; it blew, snowed and sleeted all night, and when reveille beat in the morning, you could only see what seemed a field full of dead bodies, each covered with a rubber blanket and encased with ice. Some of the men had to kick and struggle, they were so hard frozen down. Yet, despite this, I have not learned that it has caused much sickness. How would you like to carry forty or fifty pounds all day, be wet through, have your feet soaked with mud and snow-water, and then go to sleep in a cornfield, with a drifting sleet coming down on you all night? This is what twenty-five thousand men did, for more than one night, on that expedition. This is what our poor slovenly ragamuffins can do; and this it is to be a good soldier. The Rebels are still tougher, if anything. Being still in love with the new picket line, which has been established in our rear, I again went down what is called the Church road, until I struck the infantry pickets, near a Colonel Wyatt's house. This once was a well-to-do establishment. The house is large and a huge cornfield testifies that he (or our cavalry) had gathered a good harvest that very year. There were the usual outbuildings of a well-to-do southern farmer: little log barns, negro huts, and odd things that might be large hencoops or small pigstyes. The Virginians have a great passion for putting up a great lot of diminutive structures as a kind of foil to the main building, which, on the contrary, they like to have as extensive as possible; just as the old painters added importance to a big saint by making a number of very small devotees, kneeling below him. A stout old gent, in a shocking bad beaver, who was walking about in the back yard was, I presume, the distinguished Colonel. Having stared at the house and been in turn stared at by a pretty little girl who threw up a window, to have a more clear view of the Yank, I went, still along the Church road, till I got to the Weldon road.

A picket line is always one of the most picturesque sights in an army, when it runs through woods and fields. You know it consists of a string of “posts,” each of half a dozen men, or so, and, in front of these, a chain of sentries who are constantly on the alert. The squads of men make to themselves a gipsy bough-house in front of which they make a fire in cool weather. They must always have their belts on and be ready to fight at a moment's notice. In the woods, you follow along from one rustic shelter to another, and see the sentries, out in front, each standing behind a good tree and keeping a sharp lookout for Rebel scouts, bushwhackers and cavalry. A short distance in the rear you from time to time come on a “reserve,” which is a large body, perhaps of fifty or a hundred, who are concealed and who are ready to come to the assistance of the posts, if they are attacked. Picket duty is, of all others, that which requires most individual intelligence in the soldiers. A picket line, judiciously posted, in woods or swamps, will oppose a formidable resistance, even to a line of battle. There was careful Mr. Corps, officer of the day, with his crimson scarf across his shoulder, inspecting his outposts and reserves; each one falling in as he came along and standing at a shoulder.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 300-2

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

December 13, 1864

As the Rebels have known the fact for some time, and as the newspapers have hinted at it in unmistakable terms, I conceive there is no impropriety in my saying that we have now with us the 6th Corps once again. A week ago Sunday night the first division came from City Point on the cars, having come straight from the neighborhood of Winchester by car and boat. The next morning we were treated to the sight of the familiar red crosses, and soon General Wheaton rode up, to see the General and report. . . . Very loath were the Sixth Corps bucks to leave the valley (where they had plenty of sheep and chickens and victories, and no fighting except in the regular battles), and come to a place with which they only connected more or less fighting, day and night (rather more than less), much dust, heat, and drought, and no particular victories. However, they find things better now, and will doubtless get contented in time. What must have gratified them was that they relieved Crawford's division of the 5th Corps, on the line, and took possession of their very nice log huts, which had been carefully constructed uniformly in all the brigades. Crawford's people by no means saw the thing in the same light. They took down their canvas roofs and rolled them up with dudgeon, and marched off to take a temporary camp, previous to the Weldon road expedition. I rode along the breastworks as the red crosses marched into the deserted camps, and observed the aspect of grim satisfaction with which the new comers went about, looking into the abandoned huts. The luxurious Crawford had his nice log cabin taken down and carted to his new locality. “However,” said Wheaton, “I slept in Crawford's kitchen, and that was good enough for me.” On Tuesday came the 3d division, also with a new commander, for brave General Ricketts lies at Washington, still suffering from his wound; and General Seymour, he who was taken the second day of the Wilderness, has the command. Seymour is a fiery and irrepressible sort of party, and enraged the inhabitants of Charlottesville beyond measure. When they told him they had had most extraordinary victories over Grant, he made them a speech, in which he said it didn't make any sort of difference how many victories they had, it wouldn't do them any sort of good; that in every battle we killed off a good many of them, and that we intended to keep piling up men indefinitely, until they knocked under, or were all shot! This enraged them much, and they invited him to air himself for sixteen miles on foot, after it.  . . . It was only last Monday that the 2d division got here, under Getty, and with it came General Wright, commanding the corps. Good General Wright, though always pleasant, is, I think rather in low spirits. He has had poor luck, on numerous occasions, and it culminated at Cedar Creek, where he chanced to have command of the army when it was surprised. He had rallied it, when Sheridan arrived on the field; but of course Sheridan had the credit of the victory, and indeed he deserved it. All the officers say that Wright made prodigious exertions and rode along all parts of the line in the hottest fire.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 298-300

Diary of Gideon Welles: Friday, September 5, 1862

We have a report this morning that the Rebels have crossed the Potomac at Edwards Ferry, but the War Department says the report wants confirmation and that we have no stragglers from there, as we should have if the rumors were true.

Wilkes claims that he ought to have the position of Acting Admiral. There is reason in his claim, though some are opposed to it. He is not in favor with his professional brethren, has given great trouble and annoyance to the Department heretofore and will be likely to give us more trouble, but I believe it best to give him under the circumstances the position with the squadron.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

The question of publishing the report of General Pope was before us. Some little discussion took place. I did not consider it strictly a report, for it was not accompanied by the reports of the other officers, or any statistics of killed, wounded, losses, or captures, but a statement from an officer in command, who felt himself aggrieved and who expressed himself in a manner to give offense. Much was said, and all concurred or acquiesced in non-publication for the present, especially as there is to be an inquiry into the subject-matter reported upon.

There is a good deal of demoralization in the army; officers and soldiers are infected.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 110-1

Diary of Josephine Shaw Lowell: September 8, 1862

The Rebels are in Frederick, Jamestown and Poolesville. There's no hope of our cutting them off because they never go anywhere without leaving means of retreat, and we are so slow we never catch anybody.

SOURCE: William Rhinelander Stewart, The Philanthropic Work of Josephine Shaw Lowell, p. 33

Diary of Josephine Shaw Lowell: September 5, 1862

Naushon. It doesn't seem very pleasant, after eighteen months of anxiety, loss and sorrow, to be back in the forts around Washington with the Rebel Army besieging us, but such is the case. There have been sundry battles, skirmishes, etc., and that's the result, — we've got into such a custom of masterly retreat, that we don't know how to advance. Of course, all our friends are constantly in danger now, because the army is concentrated in front of Washington, and besides that, things look dark enough, for the Rebels are very energetic.

SOURCE: William Rhinelander Stewart, The Philanthropic Work of Josephine Shaw Lowell, p. 33

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, June 23, 1864

June 23, 1864

All were up at an early hour and ready for an advance, which had been ordered. On the right, towards the Gregory house, we were already against them, and I suppose my friend there, Major Crow, had seen us under more hostile circumstances.  . . . By 4.30 General Meade started for General Wright's Headquarters at the Williams house, where he ordered me to stay, when he left at seven.  . . . I rode about with General Wright, who visited his line, which was not straight or facing properly. That's a chronic trouble in lines in the woods. Indeed there are several chronic troubles. The divisions have lost connection; they cannot cover the ground designated, their wing is in the air, their skirmish line has lost its direction, etc., etc. Then General Meade gets mad with the delay. The commanders say they do as well as they can, etc. Well, Ricketts ran one way and Russell another; and then the 2d Corps — how did that run? and were the skirmishers so placed as to face ours? and what would General Birney do about it? How long was the line? could it advance in a given direction, and, if so, how? All of which is natural with a good many thousand men in position in a dense wood, which nobody knows much about. All this while the men went to sleep or made coffee; profoundly indifferent to the perplexities of their generals; that was what generals were paid for. When General Wright had looked a great deal at his line, and a great deal more at his pocket compass, he rode forth on the left to look at the pickets, who were taking life easy like other privates. They had put up sun-shades with shelter-tents and branches, and were taking the heat coolly. . . .

About this time a Vermont captain (bless his soul!) went and actually did something saucy and audacious. With eighty sharpshooters he pushed out boldly, drove in a lot of cavalry, and went a mile and a quarter to the railroad, which he held, and came back in person to report, bringing a piece of the telegraph wire.  . . . Some time in the morning, I don't exactly know when, the signal officers reported a large force, say two divisions, marching out from the town, along the railroad, whereof we heard more anon. At noon there still had been no advance, and General Wright went to General Birney to arrange one. There was General Meade, not much content with the whole affair. They all pow-wowed a while, and so we rode back again, through the dreary woods, through which fires had run. It was after two when we returned. Now then — at last — all together — skirmishers forward! And away they go, steadily. Oh, yes! but Rebs are not people who let you sit about all the day and do just as you like; remember that always, if nothing else. There are shots away out by the railroad — so faint that you can scarce hear them. In comes a warm sharpshooter: “They are advancing rapidly and have driven the working party from the railroad.” Here come the two divisions, therefore, or whatever they are. “Stop the advance,” orders General Wright. “General Wheaton, strengthen that skirmish line and tell them to hold on." The remainder of Wheaton's division is formed on the flank, and begins making a breastwork; more troops are sent for. The fire of the skirmishers now draws nearer and gets distinct; but, when the reinforcement arrives, they make a stout stand, and hold them.  . . . All the while the telegraph is going: “Don't let 'em dance round you, pitch into them!” suggests General Meade (not in those exact words). “Don't know about that — very easy to say — will see about it,” replies the cautious W.; etc., etc. Pretty soon the cavalry comes piling in across the Aiken oat-field; they don't hold too long, you may be certain. This exposes the flank of the picket line, which continues to shoot valiantly. In a little while more, a division officer of the day gallops in and says they have broken his skirmishers and are advancing in line of battle. But the Rebels did not try an approach through the open oat-field: bullets would be too thick there; so they pushed through the woods in our rear. I could hear them whooping and ki-yi-ing, in their peculiar way. I felt uncomfortable, I assure you. It was now towards sunset. Our position was right in the end of the loop, where we should get every bullet from two sides, in event of an attack. General Grant, of the Vermont Brigade, walked up and said, in his quiet way: “Do you propose to keep your Headquarters here?” “Why not?” says Ricketts. “Because, when the volleys begin, nothing can live here.” To which Ricketts replied, “Ah?” as if someone had remarked it was a charming evening, or the like. I felt very like addressing similar arguments to General Wright, but pride stood in the way, and I would have let a good many volleys come before I would have given my valuable advice. A column of attack was now formed by us, during which the enemy pushed in their skirmishers and the bullets began to slash among the trees most spitefully; for they were close to; whereat Wright (sensible man!) vouchsafed to move on one side some seventy yards, where we only got accidental shots. And what do you think? It was too dark now for us to attack, and the Rebs did not — and so, domino, after all my tremendous description! Worse than a newspaper isn't it? I was quite enraged to be so scared for no grand result.¹

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¹ “I look on June 22d and 23d as the two most discreditable days to this army that I ever saw! There was everywhere, high and low, feebleness, confusion, poor judgment. The only person who kept his plans and judgment clear was General Meade, himself. On this particular occasion Wright showed himself totally unfit to command a corps.” — Lyman's Journal.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 173-6

Diary of Private Alexander G. Downing: Thursday, March 3, 1864

We got into motion early this morning and marched twenty miles. We bivouacked for the night within twenty-six miles of Vicksburg and not far from our forces at Big Black river bridge. The rebels ceased following us today. The weather and roads were fine for marching.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 171

Diary of Private Alexander G. Downing: Monday, February 29, 1864

The rebels drove in our pickets again last night and there was some skirmishing, but when we commenced cannonading they fell back. General McPherson has his headquarters here in a fine residence, and I am one of three men who have to walk the beat in front of his headquarters; we had the same duty the entire expedition, when his headquarters was in a residence or in his tent in bivouac.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 170-1

Charles Eliot Norton to George William Curtis, August 24, 1861

Newport, 24 August, 1861.

. . . I do not agree with you that the war is likely to be short. Its issue may soon become certain, but it will be long before we can lay down our arms. Nor am I ready yet to share in any gloomy prognostications. I believe the people will save the country and the government in spite of all the weakness and mismanagement and corruption at Washington. Nor am I afraid of the effect of another defeat, — if another should come. It will indeed bring to the surface an immense show of cowardice, and meanness; but we have no right yet to believe that the temper of our people is so low that it will not rise with the trial and [sic] of calamity. I bate nothing of heart or hope, and I grieve to think that you should ever feel out of heart or despondent. We have not yet more than begun to rouse ourselves; we are just bracing to the work; but we are setting to it at last in earnest.

The practical matter to be attended to at this moment seems to me to be the change in the Cabinet. A change must be made, — and it will be made, if not by the pressure now brought to bear, then by a popular revolution. We shall have public meetings of a kind to enforce their resolves in the course of a few days, if Cameron, Welles and Smith are not removed, or the best reason given for retaining them. Mr. Seward ought to understand that it is not safe for him that they should any longer remain in the Cabinet. If another reverse were to come and they still there, the whole Cabinet would have to go; — and then let Mr. Lincoln himself look out for a Committee of Safety. . . .

Let me hear from you again soon, — and above all do not begin to doubt our final success.

If the fortunes of war go against us, if all our domestic scoundrels give aid to the cause of the rebels, — we still shall not fail, and the issue will be even better than our hopes.

Most affectionately

Yours,

Charles E. N.

SOURCE: Sara Norton and  M. A. DeWolfe Howe, Letters of Charles Eliot Norton, Volume 1, p. 241-2