Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, July 14, 1863

Jackson.—We took position in the ditches early in the morning of the 9th, and have been here ever since, under fire of the enemy's sharpshooters, and occasionally of their batteries. The opening shots of the second siege of Jackson were heard on the Clinton road on the morning of the 9th, where Jackson's Cavalry were disputing the advance of Grant's army, and in the course of the day the firing grew nearer. A number of citizens abandoned their homes for a place of safety, and we had free access to their houses. The regiment was posted in a yard under fine shade trees, and nearly every man had a book, while some were seated in rosewood chairs. At ten o'clock General Johnston and staff rode along the trenches, and seemed in fine spirits. We drew crackers and bacon, and had our water hauled to us. Early on the morning of the 10th, it was reported that the enemy was advancing to storm our works, and at eight o'clock skirmishing and canonading were lively at the center. At 4 P. M. firing began on our wing, (the right). Several prisoners were brought in during the afternoon, and it was reported that a Louisiana regiment had charged a battery, and captured two of its pieces. After nightfall several fine residences, outside of the lines, were set on fire to prevent the enemy's sharpshooters from taking shelter behind them, and the vicinity was soon brilliantly lit up. Sharpshooting was kept up until late at night. At daylight on the morning of the 11th, the Yanks opened fire on our front from a clump of trees on a slight eminence, and their long-range guns enabled them to keep us in hot water, while very few of our guns could reach them. The firing was pretty constant all along the lines during the morning. Private Estes, of Captain Cunningham's Company, was wounded in the temple, while looking over our breastworks, and another (name unknown) wounded in the hand. A call for fifty volunteers from the regiment, to act as sharpshooters, was promptly responded to. While on this service, in a cornfield, Private Renegar, of Captain Little's Company, was killed, and Corporal W. C. Gracy, of Captain Feeney's Company, severely wounded. This evening the Yanks made two vigorous charges on our right wing, and were badly repulsed. At 6 P. M. the artillery firing on the extreme left was very heavy. The Forty-first was ordered on picket, to remain twenty-four hours.

At 5 A. M., on the morning of the 12th, heavy skirmishing began along the entire line, and continued until nine o'clock, when the artillery opened, and rained on our works a terrible shower of shot and shell for the space of an hour. Our skirmishers were driven in by this fire, and we fully expected a charge to follow, but were doomed to disappointment. Throughout the day shells came at regular intervals, our guns replying slowly. About 9:30 A. M. fifty skirmishers from each regiment went out to recover the lost ground, which they succeeded in doing after a sharp battle. At 11 o'clock heavy firing was heard on the left, and news soon came that Breckenridge's Division had signally repulsed the enemy with heavy loss to them in killed, wounded and prisoners, besides two stands of colors. This was soon confirmed by the appearance of the captured flags, which were borne along the entire line of our works. The casualties in the Forty-first, in this day's operations, were three men wounded. On July 13th skirmishing began in front of Gregg's Brigade before daylight, and continued briskly all day. Barrett and Robinson, of Captain Cunningham's Company, came in off picket and said they had killed a Yank. Some of the boys afterwards went to the spot they pointed out, and brought off the body, when it proved to be a member of the Third Tennessee. He was in advance of the line, and hence this mistake.

On the 14th there was very little change in the state of affairs. At one o'clock a truce of three hours was held, to enable the enemy to bury his dead. There was quite a mingling of the Gray and the Blue during the cessation of hostilities on this part of the line. Two or three casualties occurred in the regiment during the day, among them Private Goodrum, wounded in the head, while seated at the bottom of the ditch. 

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 217-9

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: September 2, 1864

 I REJOIN MY REGIMENT.

About a week ago my brigade, Gen. Stannard commanding, left the trenches and was ordered into camp at Cobb's Hill; all the convalescents belonging to it were ordered to rejoin it. When I was about leaving, all my darkies gathered around me to give me their blessing and say their goodb-yes. They were earnest in their thanks for the kind treatment they had received and expressed their regrets at my leaving them. I told them to be good boys and do their duty, and they would surely receive their reward. It is possible the poor devils will miss me, as I have been to them not only ward-master, but doctor, nurse and attendant. I think I have been very successful with them in the little time I have had charge of them, having lost by death only three and I think there is small chance of any more of them dying at present, unless they should happen to be struck by lightning

Our brigade musters scarcely 1000 men for duty, and in a few weeks will be still further reduced by the expiration of the terms of service of those not re-enlisting. I learn that in a few days we go to Newbern, N. C., to relieve a full brigade which is ordered up here. Our old lines here are now nothing more than skirmish lines on either side, with a few pickets between. There is no firing from either side, and all is still and quiet as Sunday. The pickets keep up a truce between themselves, and although against orders, trading and communicating are carried on between them. I called on my old friend Lieut. McCarter of company B. He is now on Gen. Stannard's staff, and is serving as brigade commissary, which gives him a fine opportunity to entertain his friends. It has been several months since I saw Mac, but he is the same genial, good-natured fellow as ever.

Of course greetings were cordial. He says the job is more to his liking than dodging shell at Cold Harbor, and the only disagreeable thing about it is in lugging water to make his accounts balance.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 147-8

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, February 16, 1862

This morning we still occupy the position gained last evening. There is no firing this morning. Why this quiet? Why this stillness? The enemy may be preparing for a more determined resistance. But no, there is a truce! Grant is now holding communication with the rebel General Buckner. Buckner gives terms upon which he will surrender. Grant says, “No, I demand an unconditional surrender. I propose to move immediately upon your works.” He waits for an answer. All are in suspense now. Go with me to yonder elevation; look eastward; the sun is far on its journey, while over the broad land church bells are ringing; and while the loyal people are breathing a prayer to heaven for the army and navy, fifty thousand warriors are being drawn up in line of battle. Away yonder in the woods, we see the General moving, followed by his staff, and in the language of Campbell in his description of the battle of the Baltic,

“As their war steeds went surging on their path,

There was silence deep as death,

And the boldest held his breath

       For a time.”

But hark! what mean those shouts that come rolling down the line? “Fort Donelson is ours!" The rebel flag has been lowered, and afar we see the white flag waving. An unconditional surrender has been made of the whole rebel force and munitions of war. With colors flying and drums beating, we pass into Fort Donelson. Our quarters to-night are those lately occupied by the rebels. The Seventh feels good, knowing that they have helped to gain a brilliant victory, adding new glory to the old flag.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 35-6

Diary of 5th Sergeant Osborn H. Oldroyd: May 25, 1863

Burying the dead that had lain between the Union and Confederate
lines for three days.

Pemberton sent a flag of truce to Grant at two P. M., and the cessation of hostilities thus agreed on, lasted till eight o'clock in the evening. It made us happy, for we fancied it was a sign they wanted to surrender—but no such good luck. It was simply to give both sides a chance to bury their dead, which had been lying exposed since the twenty-second. Both armies issued from their respective fortifications and pits, and mingled together in various sports, apparently with much enjoyment. Here a group of four played cards—two Yanks and two Rebs. There, others were jumping, while everywhere blue and gray mingled in conversation over the scenes which had transpired since our visit to the neighborhood. I talked with a very sensible rebel, who said he was satisfied we should not only take Vicksburg, but drive the forces of the south all over their territory, at last compelling them to surrender; still, he said, he had gone into the fight, and was resolved not to back out. He said they had great hope of dissension in the north, to such an extent as might strengthen their cause. There have been grounds for this hope, I am sorry to say, and such dissensions at the north must prolong the war, if our peace party should succeed in materially obstructing the war measures of government. From the remarks of some of the rebels, I judged that their supply of provisions was getting low, and that they had no source from which to draw more. We gave them from our own rations some fat meat, crackers, coffee and so forth, in order to make them as happy as we could. We could see plainly that their officers watched our communications closely.

SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 35-7

Lieutenant-General Ulysses S. Grant to Major-General Winfield Scott Hancock, April 19, 1865 — 5:30 p.m.

WASHINGTON, April 19, 1865 — 5.30 p.m.

 Major-General HANCOCK,  Winchester, Va.:

If Mosby does not avail himself of the present truce end it and hunt him and his men down. Guerrillas, after beating the armies of the enemy, will not be entitled to quarter.

U.S. GRANT,

Lieutenant-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 46, Part 3 (Serial No. 97), p. 839

Gustavus V. Fox to Virginia Woodbury Fox, April 29, 1861

Annapolis, M'd

April 29 '61

D. V.

We reached Old Point yesterday without incident, and I dined with the Domicks in the Fort — who soon leave for Fort Hamilton. Com0 Pendergrast in the Cumberland is blockading at Hampton Roads. Fort Monroe is preparing for the crisis and will permit no batteries to be erected near it. It is a magnificent work but should have more troops. The communication is open thanks to the Mass^tts troops. The famous N. Y. 7th declined a duty because an overwhelming force were said to be in advance, declined the order in writing. So the Mass^tts troops took the rejected duty FOLLOWED by the 7th. Don't say anything about this because there must be no quarrels now. Maryland has refused to secede so Washington is safe. We hear of a truce but it must not be until Richmond and Norfolk are occupied. Then it will take us until frost to get ready for great movements. There will be no difficulty about getting our folks from Washington. My old schoolmate Gen. Butler is in command here and will give me .troops transportation anything for them and sends off a train for my especial benefit this P.M. The Yankee will remain here until I return and probably go to Com^o Pendergrast who wishes her in Hampton Roads, I shall remain in Washington long enough to get them out and probably return with them.

It is delightful to find Mass^tts troops occupying all prominent points, familiar faces carrying the glorious flag through to the Capital.

God bless my own dear wife and give her strength and health.

Aff

Gus

SOURCE: Robert Means Thompson & Richard Wainwright, Editors, Publications of the Naval Historical Society, Volume 9: Confidential Correspondence of Gustavus Vasa Fox, Assistant Secretary of the Navy, 1861-1865, Volume 1, p. 41-2

Diary of 1st Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Tuesday, May 2, 1865

The 2d Brigade starts at 7 A. M. with 4 days rations & in light marching order are accompanied by one battery of 6 guns & 30 empty wagons, about an hour after was surprised to see the whole column returning to camp. I learn the cause to be that at the picket post was met a Liuet & 15 men with a flag of truce who reports that there is a cessation of hostilities in this Department for 30 days he had with him an order purporting to be from Genl Dick Taylor with his name attached forbidding any demonstrations of hostilities for 30 days. The Div Adjt goes out to see him and asks by whose authority he comes with a flag of truce to our lines, says by no other authority than his own. The Adjt tells him to get inside of his own lines as speedily as possible & not to come again without clothed with proper authority. This is talk, but there is other talk no more reasonable. That the flag brought a sealed dispatch which was sent to Mobile unbroken, there being no other boats here the Octorara (Gunboat) was dispatched immediately. I think there is more of it than the authorites would wish the soldier to know, for there must be something important or the brigade would not have turned back neither would the Octorara the only Gunboat here have been sent to Mobile. I spend the forenoon reading, about noon Mr. Rush is in & brings our mess some pickles, he says that he saw a Capt Foster just from Mobile yesterday morning who says there is an armistice of 30 days & that Genls Granger & Taylor have been in conference at 8 mile creek near Whistler for some 4 days, P. M. spend napping. After supper Lt Laughridgc & self take a walk to the river, take a boat ride in a canoe returning towards camp stop at Lt Corys quarters, are soon joined by Maj Boydston. Spend about an hour here smoking & talking. The Maj tells us that it is a truth strange as it may seem that the pickets of both armies occupy Citroville amicably & the Reb army are repairing the R. R. from C — to Meridian, & our army repairing it from C — to Mobile, also thinks the paroles are made out & signed by this time for all of Taylors men, weather warm dust almost in tolerable, & fleas “thicker than the hair on a dogs back” as Brass band serenades Brig Hd. Qtrs, tonight.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 597-8

Diary of Sergeant George G. Smith: May 28, 1863

At 3 a. m. another tremendous storm of shot and shell. But all except the guard lay sleeping behind the bluff, so that the torrent of lead and iron passed harmlessly over our heads.

At noon another truce was agreed upon until 7 p. m., to bury the dead. Our forces occupied the time in strengthening their works along the bluff, so that when hostilities began again we had very nice breastworks and could stand up and fire, whereas before, in many places, the men had to lie down to fire in order to avoid exposure. At 7 p. m. a rebel gun on the left (an 8 inch Parrot, called the Lady Davis) proclaimed the truce at an end. Now the conflict began with redoubled fury.

A laughable occurrence happened about this time. A shell burst in close proximity to our line, throwing stones and dirt all over us, at the same time knocking down little Pat Murphy. He jumped up, exclaiming, “Be jobbers, an ’twas the strongest wind I ever filt.”

Firing ceased at 8 p. m.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 66-7

Lieutenant-General Winfield Scott to Abraham Lincoln, March 12, 1861

The President has done me the honor to propose certain military questions, concerning Fort Sumter to which he desires replies.

“1st.” To what point of time can Major Anderson maintain his position at Fort Sumter without fresh supplies or reinforcements?

Answer. In respect to subsistence he has bread, flour, and rice for about 26 days, and salt meat (pork) for about forty eight days. Without additional supplies of provisions he may hold out some forty days without much suffering from hunger.

The besiegers are understood to be about 3,500 men, now somewhat disciplined, and they have four powerful batteries on land, and one floating battery, all mounting guns and mortars of large calibre and of the best patterns, bearing on Fort Sumter. Supposing Major Anderson not to be reinforced and the means of the assailants to be skilfully and vigorously employed – Fort Sumter being defended by less than 100 men, including common laborers and musicians – it might be taken, at any time, by a single assault, and easily, if previously harassed, perseveringly, for many days and nights; the assailants having the ability (by the force of numbers) of converting one out of every three or four of those demonstrations, into a real attack.

“2d.” Can you, with all the means now in your control, supply or reinforce Fort Sumter within the period you specify as the time, within which Major Anderson may hold out without fresh supplies?”

Answer. No, not within many months; But not to speak of October or November, when the proposition was first made, and repeated, in writing, the third time, December 30th – it would have been easy to reinforce Fort Sumter, with war vessels, down to about the 12th of February. In this long delay, twice that time, Fort Moultrie has been re-armed and greatly strengthened, in every way, and many powerful new land batteries (besides rafts) have been constructed. Hulks have also been sunk in the principal channel, so as to render access to Fort Sumter, from the sea, impractical, without first carrying all the batteries of the secessionists. The difficulty of reinforcing has thus, by delay, been increased 1[0] or 12 fold. First, the late President refused to allow any attempt to be made, because he was holding negotiations with South Carolina Commissioners. Afterwards, Secretary Holt and myself endeavored to obtain a ship of war for the purpose; but failing in this we were obliged to employ the steamer Star of the West. That vessel, but for the hesitation of the commander, might then have landed, it is generally believed, men and subsistence. That attempt having failed, I next, before the late Cabinet, submitted, orally, either that succor be sent by ships of war, fighting their way to the Fort, or, that Major Anderson should ameliorate his condition by the muzzles of his guns; that is, enforcing supplies by bombardment, and by bringing-to merchant vessels and helping himself (giving orders for payment) or else should be allowed to surrender, as, sooner or later, had then become inevitable.

But before any resolution was taken – the late Secretary of the Navy making difficulties about the want of suitable vessels; – another commissioner from South Carolina arrived, causing further delay. When that had passed away, Secretaries Holt & Toucy, Capt. Ward of the Navy and myself, with the knowledge of President Buchanan, settled upon the employment, under the Captain (who was eager for the expedition) of four or more small steamers belonging to the Coast Survey.- At that time, I have no doubt Captain Ward would have suceeded with all his vessels. But he was kept back by something like a truce established between the late President and a number of principal seceders, here, in the Senate, & from South Carolina, Florida, Louisiana &c., and this truce continued to the termination of that administration. That plan and all others like it, are now pronounced, from the change of circumstances, impracticable, by Major Anderson Captain Foster and all the other officers of the Fort, as well as by Brig. General Totten, Chief of the Corps of Engineers: and, in this opinion, I fully concur. The three or four steamers would have been obliged to attempt to make their way past the hostile batteries in an obstructed channel. Possibly one of them might have reached the fort, with (being small) a few days subsistence, but would, certainly probably, have been destroyed on arriving at the entrance (by the concentrated fire of three or four powerful batteries), before landing a man or a ration. In this opinion Captain Ward finally concurred.

“3d.” If I could not supply or reinforce Fort Sumter, within the time specified, with all the means in my control, then what amount of means and of what description, in addition to that already at my control, would enable me to supply and reinforce the fortress within that time.”

Answer. I should need a fleet of war vessels and transports which, in the scattered disposition of the Navy (as understood) could not be collected in less than four months; – 5,000 additional regular troops, and 20,000 volunteers – that is, a force sufficient to take all the batteries both in the harbour (including Ft. Moultrie) as well as in the approach or outer bay. To raise, organize and discipline such an army (not to speak of necessary legislation by Congress, not now in session) would require from six to eight months. As a practical military question, the time for succoring Fort Sumter, with any means at hand, had passed away nearly a month ago. Since then a surrender under assault, or from starvation, has been merely a question of time.

It is, therefore, my opinion and advice that Major Anderson be instructed to evacuate the Fort – so long gallantly held by him and his companions – immediately on procuring suitable water transportation, and that he embark, with his command, for New York.

I have the honor to return, herewith, the reports and communications of Major Anderson and his officers, submitted to me by the President. These papers of themselves demonstrate how the Fort has become untenable during the delays I have described above.

Respectfully Submitted.

Winfield Scott.

Head Qrs. of the Army

Washington, March 12, 1861.

SOURCE: Abraham Lincoln Papers at the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: August 25, 1864

Last night, under cover of darkness, a detail was made, about twenty men, ordered to advance and intrench, to try and dislodge the enemy's sharpshooters who were up in high trees and making trouble for us, shooting at the boys, by improving every chance they could get. When the opportunity came, our boys were to give them a volley. They did so, but did not harm the rebs. I heard them call out, as soon as our boys fired on them, “How are you Horace Greeley?” showing that no harm came to them. It made quite a laugh at the time. The rebs often called to us “How are you Horace Greeley? Does your mother know you are out?”

Late in the afternoon all firing ceased and everything became quiet. We could hear the enemy's drum corps and they could no doubt hear ours. Our boys and the Johnnies on the skirmish line entered into an agreement not to fire on one another. For proof they fixed bayonets on their guns, sticking them in the ground, butts up. Both sides could see. Agreements made at such times were kept. Both sides kept outside the earthworks. Sometimes the boys would meet between the lines, exchange tobacco for coffee. The rebs were always very anxious to get hold of New York papers. Night coming on, both sides would resume duty. A hard shower came late this afternoon.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 116-7

A Woman's Diary Of The Siege Of Vicksburg: July 4, 1863

It is evening. All is still. Silence and night are once more united. I can sit at the table in the parlor and write. Two candles are lighted. I would like a dozen. We have had wheat supper and wheat bread once more. H––– is leaning back in the rocking-chair; he says:

"G–––, it seems to me I can hear the silence, and feel it, too. It wraps me like a soft garment; how else can I express this peace?" But I must write the history of the last twenty-four hours. About five yesterday afternoon, Mr. J–––, H–––'s assistant, who, having no wife to keep him in, dodges about at every change and brings us the news, came to H––– and said:

“Mr. L–––, you must both come to our cave to-night. I hear that to-night the shelling is to surpass everything yet. An assault will be made in front and rear. You know we have a double cave; there is room for you in mine, and mother and sister will make a place for Mrs. L–––. Come right up; the ball will open about seven."

We got ready, shut up the house, told Martha to go to the church again if she preferred it to the cellar, and walked up to Mr. J–––'s. When supper was eaten, all secure, and ladies in their cave night toilet, it was just six, and we crossed the street to the cave opposite. As I crossed a mighty shell flew screaming right over my head. It was the last thrown into Vicksburg. We lay on our pallets waiting for the expected roar, but no sound came except the chatter from neighboring caves, and at last we dropped asleep. I woke at dawn stiff. A draught from the funnel-shaped opening had been blowing on me all night. Every one was expressing surprise at the quiet. We started for home and met the editor of the “Daily Citizen.” H––– said:

“This is strangely quiet, Mr. L–––.”

“Ah, sir,” shaking his head gloomily, “I'm afraid (?) the last shell has been thrown into Vicksburg.”

“Why do you fear so?”

“It is surrender. At six last evening a man went down to the river and blew a truce signal; the shelling stopped at once.”

When I entered the kitchen a soldier was there waiting for the bowl of scrapings (they took turns for it).

“Good-morning, madam,” he said; “we won't bother you much longer. We can’t thank you enough for letting us come, for getting this soup boiled has helped some of us to keep alive, but now all this is over.”

“Is it true about the surrender?”

“Yes; we have had no official notice, but they are paroling out at the lines now, and the men in Vicksburg will never forgive Pemberton. An old granny! A child would have known better than to shut men up in this cursed trap to starve to death like uselessvermin.” His eyes flashed with an insane fire as he spoke. “Haven't I seen my friends carted out three or four in a box, that had died of starvation ! Nothing else, madam! Starved, to death because we had a fool for a general”

“Don't you think you're rather hard on Pemberton? He thought it his duty to wait for Johnston.”

“Some people may excuse him, ma'am. Bit we'll curse him to our dying day. Anyhow, you'll see the blue-coats directly.”

Breakfast dispatched, we went on the upper gallery. What I expected to see was files of soldiers marching in, but it was very different. The street was deserted, save by a few people coming home bedding from their caves. Among these was a group taking home a little creature, born in a cave a few days previous, and its wan-looking mother. About eleven o'clock a man in blue came sauntering along, looking about curiously. Then two followed him, then another.

“H–––, do you think these can be the Federal soldiers?”

“Why, yes; here come more up the street.” Soon a group appeared on the court-house hill, and the flag began slowly to rise to the top of the staff. As the breeze caught it, and it sprang out like a live thing exultant, H––– drew a long breath of contentment.

“Now I feel once more at home in mine own country.”

In an hour more a grand rush of people setting toward the river began, —foremost among them the gentleman who took our cave; all were flying as if for life.

“What can this mean, H–––?Are the populace turning out to greet the despised conquerors?"

"Oh," said H–––, springing up. “look. It is the boats coming around the bend.”

Truly, it was a fine spectacle to see that fleet of transports sweep around the curve and anchor in the teeth of the batteries so lately vomiting fire. Presently Mr. J––– passed and called:

“Aren't you coming, Mr. L–––? There's provisions on those boats: coffee and flour. ‘First come, first served,’ you know.”

“Yes, I'll be there pretty soon,” replied H–––.

But now the new-comers began to swarm into our yard, asking H––– if he had coin to sell for greenbacks. He had some, and a little bartering went on with the new greenbacks. H––– went out to get provisions. When he returned a Confederate officer came with him. H went to the box of Confederate money and took out four hundred dollars, and the officer took off his watch, a plain gold one, and laid it on the table, saying, “We have not been paid, and I must get home to my family.” H––– added a five-dollar greenback to the pile, and wished him a happy meeting. The townsfolk continued to dash through the streets with their arms full, canned goods predominating. Towards five Mr. J––– passed again. “Keep on the lookout,” he said; “the army of occupation is coming along,” and in a few minutes the head of the column appeared. What a contrast to the suffering creatures we had seen so long were these stalwart, well-fed men, so splendidly set up and accoutered. Sleek horses, polished arms, bright plumes, — this was the pride and panoply of war. Civilization, discipline, and order seemed to enter with the measured tramp of those marching columns; and the heart turned with throbs of added pity to the worn men in gray, who were being blindly dashed against this embodiment of modern power. And now this “silence that is golden” indeed is over all, and my limbs are unhurt, and I suppose if I were Catholic, in my fervent gratitude, I would hie me with a rich offering to the shrine of “our Lady of Mercy.”

SOURCE: George W. Cable, “A Woman's Diary Of The Siege Of Vicksburg”, The Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine, Vol. XXX, No. 5, September 1885, p. 774-5

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, April 16, 1865

The weather is warm and pleasant. We remained in bivouac all day. All is quiet in the front and both armies are resting under a flag of truce. Neither army is allowed to change its position while the agreement is in force.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 268

Captain Charles Fessenden Morse, August 13, 1862

On Picket Near Culpepper,

August 13, 1862.

At last I believe I have a chance to write you an account of our doings during the last few days, and to relieve all your anxiety about myself. Last week Wednesday, our army corps marched from Washington, making about fourteen miles under a terribly hot sun; the next day, we went on five miles further to Hazel River. Friday night we made a moonlight march to Culpepper. Saturday morning, we started away again at ten o'clock towards the Rapidan River, leaving everything behind us, knapsacks and all, taking only two days' rations and plenty of ammunition.

We were ordered to the front to support General Crawford's brigade; following our brigade was General Augur's division, consisting of two small brigades, the whole making up Banks' army corps; we formed line of battle about six miles from Culpepper in a very strong position, our brigade on the right and Augur's division on the left. Nothing occurred until about half-past three in the afternoon, when a cannonading gradually began, increasing every minute until our entire left became engaged. From our position, we could see all that was taking place, and it was a sight that I shall never forget, to see two lines of infantry gradually approach each other across an almost level plain, both under a heavy artillery fire. As they drew near enough, we could see them exchange volley after volley of musketry; then everything became enveloped in smoke and we could see only whether our line advanced or retreated by watching the colors. It was easy to see that the men were falling fast by the constant lines of ambulances that we saw going and returning from the field.

About five o'clock, Crawford's brigade moved up in front of us and became engaged. The firing of musketry now became tremendous. We could see nothing of it in front on account of an intervening bill. At about six o'clock, our brigade (Second Massachusetts, Third Wisconsin, and Twenty-seventh Indiana), was ordered up on the double quick to relieve Crawford, his brigade having been literally cut to pieces by the terrible fire of the rebels. After going about a mile over the hardest kind of swampy and wooded ground, we reached the edge of the woods and came under fire. We marched steadily along, our whole flank being exposed, and took a position behind a low rail fence, the men being ordered to lie down. I will give you an idea of how things stood at the time. General Augur's division had been obliged to fall back to their original position and was now disengaged. Of General Crawford's brigade which went into the fight two thousand strong, twelve hundred had been killed, wounded or taken prisoners; the small remainder was rallying at some distance from the field, so there was nothing left to fight the rebels with but our three small regiments. Crawford met with his great loss in charging across the open field lying between the woods. General Gordon was ordered by Banks to do the same thing with our brigade; Gordon protested against it as an impossibility without supports, and finally gained his point.

At first, we sustained a fire from the rebels only in the woods, which was not very severe, but soon the enemy made their appearance in an oblique line and commenced a cross fire which was perfectly fearful. The Twenty-seventh Indiana gave way almost at once; the Third Wisconsin stood it nobly and did not fall back until the enemy was almost in their rear. In our regiment, not a shot was fired until Colonel Andrews gave the order “Commence firing!” which was not until the rebels were within two or three hundred yards of us. The effect was tremendous; we actually tore great gaps through their ranks, and their whole right was wavering; if we could have had any support at that time, we might have charged and driven their line like sheep, but that wasn't in Banks' programme. Meanwhile, the roar of musketry was perfectly deafening; the noise of the bullets through the air was like a gale of wind; our poor men were dropping on every side, yet not one of them flinched but kept steadily at his work.

Sergeant Willis of my company (I forgot to say I was in command of Company I), who was acting first sergeant, stood directly in front of me; he received a ball in his head and fell back into my arms saying, “Lieutenant, I'm killed!” and almost instantly died; he was a very handsome young fellow, and as he expired his face had a beautifully calm expression. I laid him down gently on the ground beside me and had hardly done so, when one of my corporals named Pierson, who was touching me on the left, was shot almost in the same place, but not killed. It is impossible to relate all the incidents that took place; it seemed as if only a miracle could save any one. I received two bullets through my trousers, but wasn't scratched. Colonel Andrews was splendid! He kept riding from one end of the line to the other, giving his orders coolly, as if on drill; his horse was wounded twice.

I never was more surprised in my life than when I heard the order to retreat. I did not know what had taken place on our right, and could not understand what it was for. With Lieutenant Abbott's assistance, I managed to help Lieutenant Oakey off the field to the hospital; he was quite severely wounded. Our regiment formed behind the hospital, about a quarter of a mile from the field, the rest of the brigade joining us. It was not until I saw the regiment in line that I began to appreciate our loss. Major Savage had been left severely wounded on the field; Captain Abbott, dead; Captains Carey, Goodwin, Williams and Quincy, Lieutenants Perkins and Miller, wounded and left behind; Lieutenants Robeson, Grafton, Oakey, Browning and Surgeon Leland, wounded and brought off, and Captain Russell missing, and our regimental line was not more than half its usual length. The only officers left were Andrews, Adjutant Shelton, Captain Bangs, Lieutenants Pattison, Choate, Fox, Abbott and myself. Our colors, those which the Boston ladies gave us, had five bullet holes through them; the eagle was shot off and the staff was shot through by a minié ball, splintering it into two pieces; our color-bearer, Sergeant George, brought off the whole of it. This is the second flag we have had honorably used up in battle.

Soon after forming our second line, I was detailed by the Colonel to go to the hospital to take charge of sending off the wounded. A house with quite a large yard had been taken for hospital use; the scene in and about it was very painful. Soldiers lying in all directions, with every variety of wounds. I took hold and worked hard, loading the ambulances, for about an hour, when our regiment moved and I was ordered to join it.

Our brigade now took up a position on the left of the line of battle, to do picket duty, Ricketts' division being on the right. Our sentinels were close to the rebels and we had continual skirmishes throughout the night. We had one man killed, and took several of the rebel cavalry prisoners. Once the enemy crept down on us, as they did that night at Newtown, and poured a volley over us, which, luckily, was too high and did no harm. Morning came at last, after, to tell the truth, a pretty nervous, disagreeable night. Daylight showed us that large reinforcements had arrived and that we were now in a condition to fight, but the day wore on, still no attack was made by the enemy. Banks' division was in reserve.

The battle I do not consider a victory to either side; we held our original position and they theirs, the ground between being neutral. Our brigade was withdrawn from the field about noon and bivouacked in a wood near by. I was sent into Culpepper on official business for Colonel Andrews. The town seemed to be one great hospital, every hotel and private house, almost, being used for that purpose. I saw Robeson, Grafton, Oakey and Browning; they were all suffering considerably from want of attention; the first is wounded in the wrist, the second in the forehead, the third in the hip, and last in the thigh, a very severe, dangerous wound. I got back to camp early in the evening. Soon after, Lieutenant Abbott, Mr. Quint and a burial party, left for the battle field to perform the last duties for our poor men. Abbott returned early in the morning and brought the shocking and sad intelligence that Captains Abbott, Carey, Goodwin and Williams and Lieutenant Perkins, were lying dead on the field, and that a number of our wounded were still there. I was sent right off with all our ambulances to the field. The scene there was too awful to attempt to describe; very few of the dead had been buried, and they were lying thick in every direction. Captain Carey had lived nearly twenty-four hours and looked as natural as if alive.

I had the bodies of all the officers put into the ambulances and sent them back to the regiment; the wounded also were all cared for. I then went over to the rebel lines with Bob Shaw, under a flag of truce, to see what could be heard of Harry Russell, the Major, Captain Quincy and Lieutenant Miller. We met some very pleasant rebel officers who were very gentlemanly and kind, and found out from them and some other sources, that Russell was unhurt and a prisoner, Quincy and Miller wounded and prisoners; we managed to get some money to Savage and Russell.

Our loss, as it stood yesterday morning, was as follows:—

5 Commissioned officers killed,	8 wounded,	1 prisoner.
25 Enlisted men killed,	97 wounded,	33 missing.
30 killed,	106 Wounded,	34 missing,	Total 169.*

We carried into action twenty-two commissioned officers and four hundred and seventy-four enlisted men, a little more than one out of three meeting with some casualty. In Company I, there are, one sergeant killed, one sergeant wounded, one corporal wounded, nine privates wounded and one missing. Yesterday afternoon, Banks' army corps moved back to Colpepper to reorganize. I was sent out on picket immediately after arriving last night, and am taking the opportunity to write this long letter. I have not had my clothes off since last Thursday night, so you can imagine I am not very pretty to look at. I am a full-fledged Captain now, and have got my commission. I shall be assigned to Company B, if possible.

Poor Captain Williams! I saw him standing perfectly erect only a few minutes before he was shot, and ran over and spoke to him. His was the next company to mine. He will be a great loss to us all.

_______________

* The actual loss was 58 killed and mortally wounded, 101 wounded, 15 prisoners not wounded. Total loss 174.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 75-81

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, April 9, 1865

April 9, 1865

We all were up, according to habit, about daylight, with horses saddled, having staid near Stute's house for the night. In reply to a summons from Grant, Lee has sent in a note to say that he would meet Grant at ten A.M. to confer on measures for peace. The Lieutenant-General answered that he had no authority in the premises and refused the interview; but repeated his offer to accept the army's surrender on parole. Indeed, we suspected his affairs were from bad to worse, for last night we could hear, just at sunset, the distant cannon of Sheridan. He, with his cavalry, had made a forced march on Appomattox Station, where he encountered the head of the Rebel column (consisting, apparently, for the most part of artillery), charged furiously on it, and took twenty cannon and 1000 prisoners; and checked its progress for that night, during which time the 24th and 5th Corps, by strenuous marching, came up and formed line of battle quite across the Lynchburg road, west of Appomattox C.H. Betimes this morning, the enemy, thinking that nothing but cavalry was in their front, advanced to cut their way through, and were met by the artillery and musketry of two corps in position — (Ah! there goes a band playing "Dixie" in mockery. It is a real carnival!) This seems to have struck them with despair. Their only road blocked in front, and Humphreys's skirmishers dogging their footsteps! Well, we laid the General in his ambulance (he has been sick during the whole week, though now much better) and at 6.30 A.M. the whole Staff was off, at a round trot — (90 miles have I trotted and galloped after that Lee, and worn holes in my pantaloons, before I could get him to surrender!). An hour after, we came on the 6th Corps streaming into the main road from the upper one. A little ahead of this we halted to talk with General Wright. At 10.30 came, one after the other, two negroes, who said that some of our troops entered Lynchburg yesterday; and that Lee was now cut off near Appomattox Court House. This gave us new wings! An aide-de-camp galloped on, to urge Humphreys to press the pursuit, and all waggons were ordered out of the road, that the 6th Corps might close in immediately on his rear. Away went the General again, full tilt, along the road crowded by the infantry, every man of whom was footing it, as if a lottery prize lay just ahead! A bugler trotted ahead, blowing to call the attention of the troops, while General Webb followed, crying, “Give way to the right! Give way to the right!” Thus we ingeniously worked our way, amid much pleasantry. “Fish for sale!” roared one doughboy. “Yes,” joined in a pithy comrade, “and a tarnation big one, too!” The comments on the General were endless. “That's Meade.” “Yes, that's him.” “Is he sick?” “I expect he is; he looks kinder wild!” “Guess the old man hain't had much sleep lately.” The heavy artillery firing we had earlier heard, now had suddenly ceased, and there was a perfect stillness — a suspicious circumstance that gave us new hope. Somewhat before noon we got to General Humphreys, some five miles east of the Court House and at the very head of his men. He reported that he had just struck the enemy's skirmish line, and was preparing to drive them back. At that moment an officer rode up and said the enemy were out with a white flag. “They shan't stop me!” retorted the fiery H.; “receive the message but push on the skirmishers!” Back came the officer speedily, with a note. General Lee stated that General Ord had agreed to a suspension of hostilities, and he should ask for the same on this end, of the line. “Hey! what!” cried General Meade, in his harsh, suspicious voice, “I have no sort of authority to grant such suspension. General Lee has already refused the terms of General Grant. Advance your skirmishers, Humphreys, and bring up your troops. We will pitch into them at once!” But lo! here comes now General Forsyth, who had ridden through the Rebel army, from General Sheridan (under a flag), and who now urged a brief suspension. “Well,” said the General, “in order that you may get back to Sheridan, I will wait till two o'clock, and then, if I get no communication from General Lee, I shall attack!” So back went Forsyth, with a variety of notes and despatches. We waited, not without excitement, for the appointed hour. Meantime, negroes came in and said the Rebel pickets had thrown down their muskets and gone leisurely to their main body; also that the Rebels were “done gone give up.” Presently, the General pulled out his watch and said: “Two o'clock — no answer — go forward.” But they had not advanced far, before we saw a Rebel and a Union officer coming in. They bore an order from General Grant to halt the troops. Major Wingate, of General Lee's Staff, was a military-looking man, dressed in a handsome grey suit with gold lace, and a gold star upon the collar. He was courageous, but plainly mortified to the heart. “We had done better to have burnt our whole train three days ago”; he said bitterly. “In trying to save a train, we have lost an army!” And there he struck the pith of the thing. And so we continued to wait till about five, during which time General Humphreys amused us with presents of Confederate notes, of which we found a barrel full (!) in the Rebel waggons. It was a strange spectacle, to see the officers laughing and giving each other $500 notes of a government that has been considered as firmly established by our English friends!

About five came Major Pease. “The Army of Northern Virginia has surrendered!” Headed by General Webb, we gave three cheers, and three more for General Meade. Then he mounted and rode through the 2d and 6th Corps. Such a scene followed as I can never see again. The soldiers rushed, perfectly crazy, to the roadside, and there crowding in dense masses, shouted, screamed, yelled, threw up their hats and hopped madly up and down! The batteries were run out and began firing, the bands played, the flags waved. The noise of the cheering was such that my very ears rang. And there was General Meade galloping about and waving his cap with the best of them! Poor old Robert Lee! His punishment is too heavy — to hear those cheers, and to remember what he once was! My little share of this work is done. God willing, before many weeks, or even days, I shall be at home, to campaign no more!

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 355-8

John M. Forbes to Nassau W. Senior, December 10, 1861

Boston, December 10,1861.

My Dear Me. Senior, — I have yours of the 20th ulto. I shall read with much interest your article upon the nature of our government, and am glad you came to the same conclusion which everybody here long since arrived at except Calhoun and his gang of conspirators.

I don't blame Lord Russell for being puzzled at any question which you say has two sides to it; but I do blame him for jumping at his conclusions in such hot haste that he could not await the arrival of our new minister, whose explanation might have given him some light.

You don't blame the doctor (Medico) when, called to a serious case, he happens to take the dark view of it, and sentences the patient to “dissolution;” but you do think him a blunderer if he hastens to tell the victim that he has only to make his arrangements for his funeral!

Louis Napoleon, by quietly holding back his opinions and then uttering them covered up with sugared words, puts himself, with the masses of our people, where England was a few months since, our natural ally! Of course it is an enormous humbug, and thinking men are not gulled by it, but none the less [the situation] operates to inflame the old animosities that had grown out of two wars and that had been just forgotten.

Another thing must not be forgotten. The French press has not the chance, even when it has the will, to do the mischief that yours and ours has. We hardly read anything from the French papers; they still less read American papers, and this makes the grand difference between our situation as relating to the two countries.

You read our New York “Herald” edited by a renegade Scotchman . . . and you take it for the representative of American journalism! The “Herald” is really the organ of the seceders, it was so openly until after Sumter surrendered; and only came over nominally to the Northern side under the terrors of mob law. It has since served its masters still better by sowing the seeds of dissension between us and England.

We, with perhaps equal blindness, permit the “Times” and half a dozen other papers to stand for “England.” I look for a grand paper duello upon the Trent question, and shall be relieved if it goes no further. Should the questions assume a warlike aspect, we shall only be driven the sooner to our last desperate resort, emancipation. We are now only divided into two parties at the North, viz.: those who would use the negro when we can see no other way of conquering; and secondly, those who would use the negro at once, wherever he can be used to strengthen us or weaken the enemy! The logic of events has been from day to day settling this question, and if our talking men in Congress can only be patient or self-denying in the outpouring of patriotic words, we shall go on fast enough. . . .

You cannot believe we shall subjugate ten millions of people. Nor I; but classify these ten millions and all is changed. At least two are avowed loyalists in the border States; four more are blacks ready to help us when we will let them; three more are poor whites whose interests are clearly with us and against their would-be masters. How long will it be before the avowals of their masters, aided by the suffering of the war, will open their eyes?

This leaves one million, of all ages and sexes, who, through owning slaves and connection with slaveholders, may think they have a class interest in the success of the rebellion. This class we can crush out— or what will be left of them after the war debt of the rebels reaches its proper value — whenever we can divide the four million of poor whites, by an operation upon their eyes!

But if I underrate the difficulty, the necessity for doing it now is all the greater! If hard now, how much harder will it be after we shall have, as you desire, permitted them to separate. Now they have no manufactures, no foreign alliances, no warlike stores except what they stole from us, and these rapidly diminishing. They have missed their first spring in which lies the strength of a conspiracy; while our cold Anglo-Saxon blood is just getting roused from the lethargy of a long peace and of overmuch prosperity. We are just ready to begin to fight. We all feel that what is now a war between the people and a small class would, after a separation, become a war of sections. As for peace, nobody believes it possible; a truce we might have, to give them time to gather breath! It is only a question between war to the end now and a chronic state of war with two standing armies, two navies, two corps of diplomatists seeking alliances in every court in Europe, to end in another death struggle. There is no peace for us, unless we either conquer the arrogant slave-owner classes who have so long ruled us and bullied you, or permit them by a compromise to continue and extend their combination with our baser class and to drag us into a grand slave empire which shall absorb the West Indies and Mexico and Central America.

A bold stand at the polls by the North in 1850 would have given us the victory peacefully; now we must fight for it, or yield to the basest faction that ever ruled a country. Better a ten years' war than this; but it will not be a long war.

The conspirators counted upon an early success in arms and a division of the North. Foiled in this, their only hope is in foreign intervention. I have no doubt what you tell me is true of Louis Napoleon, still less that he secretly gave the rebels hopes of aid, nor that they have construed your course to favor them. Had you squarely taken the same ground that we did towards your Canadian rebels, this hope would have been extinguished; and now, if you want cotton, if you want trade, if you want to pave the way to a real alliance with the only free nation besides yourselves on the globe, you ought to help us in all legitimate ways. You should encourage our loan, you should sharpen your police to detect the outfit of hostile vessels, you should hold the Nashville strictly accountable for her acts of pillage and destruction, giving her the experience of a long trial in your courts, if only to discourage other pirates from being their own judges of what property they may appropriate.

Do this and the war will be short. Four months ago an offer from you to do what we should have readily done when your Indian empire was threatened, had it seemed necessary or proper, would have ended the war before this, — namely, to throw open to us for purchase your armories and your ironclad shipyards. We might not have accepted the offer, but it would have destroyed the rebels' last hope. I don't complain of your not doing it, but simply indicate what for the sake of both countries I wish might have been your policy!

As for the Sault Ste. Marie, the pine lands must wait for the prairie farmers to build again; but the developments in our mineral lands are said to be magnificent, and to promise results next summer.

Very truly yours,

J. M. Forbes.

SOURCE: Sarah Forbes Hughes, Letters and Recollections of John Murray Forbes, Volume 1, p. 253-7

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 11, 1861

We did hear cannon to-day. The woman who slandered Mrs. Davis's republican court, of which we are honorable members, by saying they — well, were not young; that they wore gaudy colors, and dressed badly — I took an inventory to-day as to her charms. She is darkly, deeply, beautifully freckled; she wears a wig which is kept in place by a tiara of mock jewels; she has the fattest of arms and wears black bead bracelets.

The one who is under a cloud, shadowed as a Yankee spy, has confirmed our worst suspicions. She exhibited unholy joy, as she reported seven hundred sick soldiers in the hospital at Culpeper, and that Beauregard had sent a flag of truce to Washington.

What a night we had! Maria had seen suspicious persons hovering about all day, and Mrs. Preston a ladder which could easily be placed so as to reach our rooms. Mary Hammy saw lights glancing about among the trees, and we all heard guns. So we sat up. Consequently, I am writing in bed to-day. A letter from my husband saying, in particular: “Our orders are to move on,'” the date, July 10th. “Here we are still and no more prospect of movement now than when I last wrote to you. It is true, however, that the enemy is advancing slowly in our front, and we are preparing to receive him. He comes in great force, being more than three times our number.”

The spy, so-called, gave us a parting shot: said Beauregard had arrested her brother in order that he might take a fine horse which the aforesaid brother was riding. Why? Beauregard, at a moment's notice, could have any horse in South Carolina, or Louisiana, for that matter. This man was arrested and sent to Richmond, and “will be acquitted as they always are,” said Brewster. "They send them first to Richmond to see and hear everything there; then they acquit them, and send them out of the country by way of Norfolk to see everything there. But, after all, what does it matter? They have no need for spies: our newspapers keep no secrets hid. The thoughts of our hearts are all revealed. Everything with us is open and aboveboard.

“At Bethel the Yankees fired too high. Every daily paper is jeering them about it yet. They’ll fire low enough next time, but no newspaper man will be there to get the benefit of their improved practise, alas!"

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 79-81

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, August 1, 1864

August 1, 1864

I waked at about six in the morning and heard the General say, “Very well, then, let the truce be from five to nine.” Whereby I knew that Beauregard had agreed to a cessation of hostilities for the burial of the dead and relief of the wounded. After struggling awhile with my indolence, I tumbled out of bed, waked Rosencrantz and ordered my horse. We speedily got ready and sallied forth to look at the field. We rode into a piece of pine woods, at the corner of which I was during the assault of the 18th of June. Some of the advanced camps were here, the danger of their position being plainly marked by the banks of earth put up by each tent. Getting out of the wood, we came on an open tract, a good deal elevated. Here, on the left, and by the ruins of a house was a heavy battery, known as the Taylor house battery. And here too begins the “covered way.” Before I saw real operations I never could understand the management of cannon. On the principle of your battle on “the great white plain,” I had an idea that all the guns were put in the front line: else how could they hit anybody? But really there are often no cannon at all there, all being placed in a second or a third line, or in isolated batteries in these relative positions. One of our heavy siege guns would sometimes have to fire as many as 1700 yards to hit the enemy's breastwork. You see that cannon-shot must rise high in the air to go any distance; so they fire over each other's heads. In practice this system is not without its dangers, owing to the imperfections of shells. In spite of the great advances, much remains to be done in the fuses of shells; as it is, not a battle is fought that some of our men are not killed by shells exploding short and hitting our troops instead of the enemy's, beyond. Sometimes it is the fuse that is imperfect, sometimes the artillerists lose their heads and make wrong estimates of distance. From these blunders very valuable officers have lost their lives. Prudent commanders, when there is any doubt, fire only solid shot, which do not explode, and do excellent service in bounding over the ground.

We got off our horses at the edge of the wood and took to the covered way (we might better have ridden). A covered way is singularly named, as it is open on top. It is simply a trench, about four feet wide, with the dirt thrown up on the side towards the enemy. It should be deep enough to cover a man standing upright. The great thing is, so to run it that the enemy cannot get a sight of it lengthwise, as they could then enfilade it. To this end the way is run zig-zag, and advantage is taken of every hollow, or knoll, that may afford shelter. I was not impressed with the first part of our covered way, as it could be shot into in many places, and was so shallow that it covered me no higher than the shoulders. Probably it was dug by a small officer who was spiteful against men of great inches. . . . We scrambled up the opposite steep bank and stood at the high breastwork of Burnside's advanced salient. The parapet was crowded with troops, looking silently at the scene of the late struggle. We got also on the parapet and at once saw everything. Opposite, and a little above us, distant about 350 feet, was the rough edge of the crater, made by the mine. There were piles of gravel and of sand, and shapeless masses of hard clay, all tumbled on top of each other. Upon the ridge thus formed, and upon the remains of the breastwork, stood crowds of Rebel soldiers in their slouched hats and ghostly grey uniforms. Really they looked like malevolent spirits, towering to an unnatural height against the sky. Each party had a line of sentries close to his works, and, in the midst, stood an officer with a white flag, where the burial parties were at work.¹ I jumped down and passed towards the enemy's line, where only officers were allowed to go, with the details for work. I do not make a practice of describing disagreeable spectacles, and will only say that I can never again see anything more horrible than this glacis before the mine. It did not take long to satisfy our curiosity, and we returned to camp, getting in just as the General was at breakfast. He takes his disappointments before Petersburg in an excellent spirit; and, when the “Herald” this morning said he was to be relieved and not to have another command, he laughed and said: “Oh, that's bad; that's very bad! I should have to go and live in that house in Philadelphia; ha! ha! ha!” The papers will tell you that Grant has gone to Washington. As I don't know what for, I can make Yankee guesses. I presume our father Abraham looks on his election prospects as waning, and wants to know of Ulysses, the warrior, if some man or some plan can't be got to do some thing. In one word he wants to know — WHY THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC DON'T MOVE. A month since there was a talk of putting Hancock at the head: that is, losing the most brilliant of corps commanders and risking (there is always a risk) the making of a mediocre army commander!

_______________

¹ “The Rebels were meanly employing their negro prisoners in this work.” — Lyman's Journal.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 201-4

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, July 4, 1864

July 4, 1864

What shall I say of the Fourth? Our celebration could not well amount to much; the men have to stay too close in camp to do such things. The band came in the morning and serenaded, and there was saluting enough in the form of cannon and mortars from our right. This siege — if you choose to call it a siege — is a curious illustration of the customs of old soldiers. On the right — say from the Appomattox to a point opposite the Avery house — the lines are very close and more or less of siege operations are going on; so every finger, or cap, or point of a gun that shows above the works, is instantly shot at, in addition to which batteries and mortars are firing intermittently. Nothing could be more hostile! But pass to the division a little to the left of this, where our lines swing off from the enemy's, and you have a quite reversed state of things. There is not a shot! Behold the picket men, no longer crouching closely in their holes, but standing up and walking about, with the enemy's men, in like fashion, as near to them, in some places, as the length of the Brookline house. At one part, there was a brook between, and our pickets, or theirs, when they want water, hold up a canteen, and then coolly walk down to the neutral stream. All this truce is unofficial, but sacred, and is honorably observed. Also it is a matter of the rank and file. If an officer comes down, they get uneasy and often shout to him to go back, or they will shoot. The other day General Crawford calmly went down, took out an opera-glass and began staring. Very quickly a Reb was seen to write on a scrap of paper, roll it round a pebble and throw it over to our line. Thereon was writ this pithy bit of advice: “Tell the fellow with the spy-glass to clear out, or we shall have to shoot him.” Near this same spot occurred a ludicrous thing, which is true, though one would not believe it if seen in a paper. A Reb, either from greenness or by accident, fired his musket, whereupon our people dropped in their holes and were on the point of opening along the whole line, when the Rebs waved their hands and cried: “Don't shoot; you'll see how we'll fix him!” Then they took the musket from the unfortunate grey-back, put a rail on his shoulder, and made him walk up and down for a great while in front of their rifle-pits! If they get orders to open, they call out, “Get into your holes, Yanks, we are ordered to fire”; and their first shots are aimed high, as a sort of warning. Their liberties go too far sometimes, as when two deliberately walked up to our breastwork to exchange papers; whereat General Crawford refused to allow them to return, saying very properly that the truce was not official, and that they had chosen to leave their own works and come over to ours, and that now they could carry back information of our position. They expected an attack on the 4th of July — I suppose as a grand melodramatic stroke on Grant's part; but, instead thereof, the Maryland brigade brought up their band to the trenches and played “Hail Columbia”; upon which, to the surprise of everyone, a North Carolina regiment, lying opposite, rose as a man and gave three cheers! The news is not precisely cheery from Maryland.¹ With the preparations on foot, we ought to bag a large part of the Rebels; but I have a sublime confidence that the movements of our troops will, as usual, be a day too late. . . .

_______________

¹ Early’s invasion of Maryland and, advance upon Washington.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 181-2

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, June 19, 1864

June 19, 1864

It having been represented to General Meade that there were some wounded and a good many dead between the lines, he determined to send a flag to get a short armistice, as at Cool Arbor. I was again selected, as the man having good clothes, to undertake the mission. This time I determined to have a bugler, and so I did, and very spruce he was, with a German-silver key-bugle. Likewise was there a tall sergeant, in Sunday best, with General Seth Williams's new damask tablecloth, on an appropriate staff! Thus equipped, and furnished with a large letter, I rode forth.  . . . We crossed the rail near Colonel Avery's, rode into the woods and immediately came on the picket reserves of cavalry, where we got a man to guide us to the extreme left of the infantry picket line. We floundered through a little swampy run, brushed through some brush, and came on a little clearing, at the other side of which was a gentleman, with a cocked musket, eyeing us suspiciously, but who withdrew on seeing our color. There we came on what is always a pretty sight, a picket line in a wood. The men are dotted along, ten or fifteen feet apart, with stronger parties on the roads; and you see them indistinctly, as they stand, half-hidden among trees and bushes. I found there Captain Thatcher in command of the picket line. There was some delay here, in sending word to the division commander, and to a battery that was firing. As soon as they were notified, Captain T. and myself, with the flag about five paces ahead, and the bugler behind, walked along the wood-road. Thatcher is a brisk, black-eyed little man, and kept peeping about, through the dense pines, and saying: “We are getting somewhere pretty near them. Wave your flag, Sergeant!” As for myself, I looked with some confidence for a salutation of two or three bullets; but made no observation, as being superfluous under the circumstances. Presently the flag-bearer, who, you may be sure, kept an extremely bright look-out, said: “There's one of 'em!” and immediately waved the emblem of peace in a truly conscientious manner. I looked and saw the main road, and, in an open field beyond, stood a single grey-back, looking dubiously at us, with his rifle ready for any emergency. I told the bugler to blow a parley, which he did in very good style, while I advanced to call to the solitary sentry; but the effect of the bugle was most marvellous — quite as when “he whistled shrill and he was answered from the hill.” In an instant, a line of some seventy-five men rose, as if out of the ground. It was their pickets, who had been concealed in little holes, dug in the slope of the gentle hill. One of them laid down his musket and came forward, when I asked for an officer; whereat, he touched his hat (probably awestruck by my cotton gloves) and returned to fetch one. Then came a red-faced captain, who received my despatch, and a bundle of letters from Rebel prisoners, and promised a speedy answer. So the flag was stuck up on a fence and we waited. In a few minutes the commander of the pickets hastened out to do me honor — Major Crow, of Alabama, a remarkably bright, nice-looking man. We exchanged compliments and newspapers, and he entertained me with an amusing account, how he had gone on a “leave” to north Alabama, and how our cavalry suddenly rushed into the town, whereupon he ascended briskly into the belfry of the court-house, through the slats of which he beheld a large number of his friends gobbled up and marched off, while he himself nearly froze to death with the extreme cold! By this time we had the variety of a visitor on horseback, Colonel Ring, a handsome man, who was curious about the negro troops and said, with an honesty unmistakable, that he would not be a bit afraid to fight them, one against two. They, however, said nothing at all unpleasant or rude. The next comer was apparently a Staff officer, a young man of rather a sour countenance, with a large pair of spurs. He brought a message that we should immediately retire from the lines, and hostilities would then recommence, till the answer was ready, when they would put a white flag on their rifle-pit. This amused me, for I had already seen all that could be seen and knew just where their position was just at that point! I returned whence I came, and waited at a wretched, deserted house. ... At seven in the evening I got the reply and carried it in. The sum of it was: “Have the honor to acknowledge your favor. As to your proposition — Ah, don't see it!”^l And so there was no armistice. Our poor wounded fellows, I believe, we got off that night, all of them, or all but a very few. And thus ended my second diplomatic mission. Since then, General Williams has caused a regular white flag to be made, ready for use in future.

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¹ “It was signed by Beauregard, and was a specimen of his mean Creole blood. ‘He did not know there had been any fight of consequence and should therefore refuse. After any engagement of real moment, he should be glad to extend the courtesies of war!’ He lied; for he knew full well that there had been heavy fighting and that we at least had lost some thousands. But he wished to show his dirty spite. Lee does not do such things.” — Lyman's Journal.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 170-3

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, June 7, 1864

June 7, 1864

After extraordinary delays an armistice was concluded between six and eight P.M. this evening. It was very acceptable for burying the dead but the wounded were mostly dead too, by this time, having been there since the 3d. I fancy there were not many, for our men make extraordinary exertions in the night to get in their comrades, and those who were not thus reached usually had their sufferings shortened by some stray ball, among the showers that continually passed between the works. We here found the body of Colonel McMahon, brother of Sedgwick's Adjutant-General. He was wounded and sat down by a tree, where he was soon hit by two or three other bullets.  . . . Some extraordinary scenes occurred during the armistice. Round one grave, where ten men were laid, there was a great crowd of both sides. The Rebels were anxious to know who would be next President. “Wall,” said one of our men, “I am in favor of Old Abe.” “He's a damned Abolitionist!” promptly exclaimed a grey-back. Upon which our man hit his adversary between the eyes, and a general fisticuff ensued, only stopped by the officers rushing in. Our entrenchments were most extraordinary in their extent, with heavy traverses, where exposed to enfilade, and all done by the men, as it were, spontaneously. An officer told a man it was not worth while to go on with a little private bomb-proof he was constructing, as he would only be there two or three days. “I don't care,” replied he, “if we only stay two or three hours; I ain't going to have my head knocked off by one of them shells!" . . .

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 154