I do not see our
future on the Presidential question. The recent declaration of Toombs seems
ominous of a break-up, in which I should rejoice. I long to see men who really
think alike on national politics acting together. The Whigs [in Massachusetts]
are in despair. They confess that they are badly beaten. The coalition has been
sustained and its candidate.
SOURCE: Edward L.
Pierce, Memoir and Letters of Charles Sumner, Vol. 3, p. 256
Sumner takes his
last dinner with us. In a few days he will be gone to Washington for the
winter. We shall miss him much. He passed the night here as in the days of long
ago. We sat up late talking.
SOURCE: Edward L.
Pierce, Memoir and Letters of Charles Sumner, Vol. 3, p. 258
We had a solitary dinner, missing Sumner very much. He is now in Washington, and it will be many days before we hear again his footsteps in the hall, or see his manly, friendly face by daylight or lamplight.
SOURCE: Edward L.
Pierce, Memoir and Letters of Charles Sumner, Vol. 3, p. 258
Your farewell note
came safe and sad; and on Sunday no well-known footstep in the hall, nor sound
of cane laid upon the table. We ate our dinner somewhat silently by ourselves,
and talked of you far off, looking at your empty chair. . . As I stand here by
my desk and cast a glance out of the window, and then at the gate, I almost
expect to see you with one foot on the stone step and one hand on the fence
holding final discourse with Worcester.1
1 Author of the "Dictionary of the
English Language,"—a neighbor of Longfellow, and a good friend of Sumner.
SOURCE: Edward L.
Pierce, Memoir and Letters of Charles Sumner, Vol. 3, p. 258
MY VERY DEAR JULIA,
— Your parting benediction and God-speed, mingling with mother's, made my heart
overflow. I thank you both. They will cheer, comfort, and strengthen me in
duties where there are many difficulties and great responsibilities. For
myself, I do not desire public life; I have neither taste nor ambition for it;
but Providence has marked out my career, and I follow. Many will criticise and
malign; but I shall persevere. Good-by. With constant love to mother and
yourself,
CHARLES.
SOURCE: Edward L.
Pierce, Memoir and Letters of Charles Sumner, Vol. 3, p. 259
DEAREST LONGFELLOW, —
I could not speak to you as we parted, — my soul was too full; only tears would
flow. Your friendship, and dear Fanny's, have been among my few treasures, like
gold unchanging. For myself, I see with painful vividness the vicissitudes and
enthralments of the future, and feel that we shall never more know each other
as in times past. Those calm days and nights of overflowing communion are gone.
Thinking of them and of what I lose, I become again a child. From a grateful
heart I now thank you for your true and constant friendship. Whatever may be in
store for me, so much at least is secure; and the memory of you and Fanny will be
to me a precious fountain. God bless you both, ever dear friends, faithful and
good! Be happy, and think kindly of me.
SOURCE: Edward L.
Pierce, Memoir and Letters of Charles Sumner, Vol. 3, p. 259
DEAREST HOWE, Three
times yesterday I wept like a child, — I could not help it first in parting
with Longfellow, next in parting with you, and lastly as I left my mother and
sister. I stand now on the edge of a great change. In the vicissitudes of life
I cannot see the future; but I know that I now move away from those who have
been more than brothers to me. My soul is wrung, and my eyes are bleared with
tears. God bless you ever and ever, my noble, well-tried, and eternally dear
friend!
SOURCE: Edward L.
Pierce, Memoir and Letters of Charles Sumner, Vol. 3, p. 259
Returned to Bethel
Church where we remained until the 22d.
SOURCE: William S.
White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 107
Returned to Young's
Mill.
SOURCE: William S.
White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 107
Having but a limited
supply of underclothing with me at this camp, I doffed my garments and turned
washerman for the nonce, intending to seat myself on the sunny side of the mill
pond and wait patiently until my clothes were sundried thoroughly. Only one
shirt, one pair of drawers and one pair of socks. As a washist, I never have
been a success, but clear water and a good will accomplishes much,—when all at
once the drum beats to "fall in"—on went my wet clothes and away we
marched to Yorktown, reaching that place thoroughly chilled through and
through.
SOURCE: William S.
White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 107
Our Captain, Robert
C. Stanard, died to-day at Camp Deep Creek, of disease contracted in the army.
He was a man of warm impulses and generous heart.
Remained in
Williamsburg about ten days, when I concluded to call on my Gloucester friends
once more, as it would be worse than folly to return to my command in such ill
health.
Hired a buggy in
Williamsburg and went to "Bigler's Wharf," on the York River; there
hired a boat and crossed over the river to Cappahoosic Wharf. At this place I
found a member of my company who lived some half a mile from the wharf.
Remained at his
father's, Captain Andrews, (a Captain of artillery in the war of 1812) for
several days, eating oysters and rolling ten-pins.
Captain Andrews is a
jolly specimen of an old Virginia gentleman, whose motto seems to be
Dum Vivimus Vivamus.
From Captain
Andrews's I went to "Waverly," where I most pleasantly spent ten
days, after having been joined by my brother, Rev. Thomas W. White, who
insisted on my getting a discharge from the army. Concluded to return to my
command, he and I going to Cappahoosic Wharf, he taking the up boat for West
Point and I waiting for the down boat for Yorktown. Whilst on the wharf, I was
again taken with a severe chill, and remembering my friend, Captain Andrews, I
crawled, rather than walked, to his house. I was then seriously ill, but had
every attention possible; my physician being Dr. Francis Jones, brother of the
owner of Waverly. Dr. Frank, seeming to take a fancy to me, told me if I would
come to his house, where he could pay me especial attention, he would promise
to get me all right in a week. As soon as I could sit up, I took him at his
word, and he put me through a regular course of medicine, watching carefully
everything I eat. Kind hearted old Virginian; I wonder if it will ever be in my
power to repay him and other dear friends in this good old county for
kindnesses to me? When I commenced improving, I felt a longing desire to get
back to camp, and accordingly returned to Yorktown in the latter part of
November. My company officers now are: Captain, Edgar F. Moseley; First
Lieutenant, John M. West; Senior Second Lieutenant, Benjamin H. Smith; Junior
Second Lieutenant, Henry C. Carter.
Found they were
stationed some twenty miles from Yorktown, and next day started to hunt them
up. Hearing they were at Young's Mill, I went to that place, but found the
First and Second detachments had returned to their camp, at Deep Creek, on the
east side of Warwick River, whilst the Third and Fourth detachments were on
picket duty at Watt's Creek, six miles from Newport News. Joined them at that
place, having been absent three months. None of the boys ever expected to see
me again, and they wondered but the more when I told them that since I had left
them I had swallowed enough quinine pills to reach from Newport News to Bristol,
Tennessee, were they to catch hold hands.
We remained at
Watt's Creek very quietly for a few days, but one night the Yankees brought up
a gun-boat and gave us a terrific shelling; when we got up and
"dusted."
My mess, composed of
Andrew, Dick and Mac. Venable, Gordon McCabe, Clifford Gordon, Kit Chandler,
and myself, owned a stubborn mule and a good cart, driven by a little black
"Cuffee" whose appellative distinction was "Bob." Now,
"Bob" and the mule came into our possession under peculiar
circumstances in fact, we "pressed" them into service on some of our
trips and kept them to haul our plunder. Bob was as black as the boots of the
Duke of Inferno and as sharp as a steel-trap; consequently, we endeavored to
give his youthful mind a religious tendency: yet Bob would gamble. Not that he
cared for the intricacies of rouge et noir, ecarté, German Hazard, or King
Faro, or even that subtlest of all games, "Old Sledge." No, no; he de
voted his leisure time to swindling the city camp cooks out of their spare change
at the noble game of "Five Corns."
George Washington
(Todd) had never heard of that little game, or there would have been a Corn
Exchange in Richmond long before the war.
It seems that they
shuffled the corns up in their capacious paws and threw them on a table or
blanket, betting on the smooth side or pithy side coming uppermost.
Night reigned—so did
"Bob," surrounded by his sable satellites, making night hideous with
their wrangling.
Say dar, nigger,
wha' you take dem corns for? My bet. I win'd dat."
Boom!-boom!—and two
nail-keg gunboat shells come screaming over our heads, disappearing into the
woods, crashing down forest oaks and leaving a fiery trail behind them.
"Hi -what dat?
Golly!" and up jumped Bob, leaving his bank and running into our tent.
"Say, Marse Andrew, time to git, ain't it?"
"We must wait
for orders, Bob.”
"I woodd'n wate
for no orders, I woodd'n; I'd go now," said Bob, as he tremblingly slunk
back into his house. But the Demon of Play had left Bob and grim Terror held
high carnival within his woolly head.
Boom! Boom!! Boom!!!
and as many shells came searching through the midnight air in quest of
mischief.
And Bob knelt him
down and prayed long and loud: "O-h! Lord, Marse, God'l Mity, lem me orf
dis hear one time, an' I'll play dem five corns no more. Mity sorry I dun it
now." And Robert ever afterward eschewed the alluring game. Returned to
our camp at Land's End, on the west side of Warwick river.
SOURCE: William S.
White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 107-10
Our Third and Fourth
Detachments are camped for the winter at Land's End, under the command of
Lieutenant John M. West, and supported by the Fourteenth Virginia Infantry,
Colonel Hodges commanding. The third gun is stationed immediately on the James
River where the Warwick empties into it, and the fourth gun one-and-a-half
miles up the Warwick River, supported by Company "K," Fourteenth
Virginia Infantry, Captain Claiborne, of Halifax county, Va., commanding. We
have comfortable log cabins, built by our own men, with glass windows, plank
floors, kitchen attached, etc., and our cuisine bears favorable comparison with
home fare. Time does not hang very heavily on my hands, for I am now drilling a
company of infantry from Halifax county, Captain Edward Young's, in artillery
tactics, previous to their making a change into that branch of the service.
Then we get up an occasional game of ball, or chess, or an old hare hunt, or
send reformed Bob to the York River after oysters, we preferring the flavor of
York River oysters to those of Warwick River.
Fortunately we have
managed to scrape up quite a goodly number of books, and being in close
communication with Richmond, we hear from our friends daily.
Soon the spring
campaign will open, and then farewell to the quiet pleasures of "Rebel
Hall," farewell to the old messmates, for many changes will take place
upon the reorganization of our army during the spring. No more winters during
the war will be spent as comfortably and carelessly as this[.] Soon it will be
a struggle for life, and God only knows how it will all end.
My health has but
little improved, but I had rather die in the army than live out.
SOURCE: William S.
White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 110
During the latter
part of February we were ordered with the Fourteenth Virginia Infantry
to fall back to the left flank of Mulberry Island, some four or five miles in
rear of our former position.
Mulberry Island is
the nearest water battery on the north side of the James River to Newport News,
and mounts seven or eight heavy guns. It is supported by the Day's Point
battery, on the south side of the James, mounting seventeen guns. Magruder, as
soon as we reached this place, sent us six hundred negroes to throw up heavy
fortifications. Our position here is quite a strong one; on our left flank is
the Warwick River, on our right is a deep marsh and the heavy battery at
Mulberry Island; in our front is a broad, open field, our guns commanding it.
Reinforced by the Fifth Louisiana Infantry.
SOURCE: William S.
White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 111
MY DEAR SIR—I have
received your note of the 15th ultimo, and have caused a very careful
examination to be made of all the files in the time of Mr. Lawrence, and no
such lease or paper as that mentioned in the order of Mr. Clark can be found. I
look forward with peculiar pleasure to my return to the United States, which I
trust may take place in the month of October. Although I cannot complain of the
manner in which I have been treated here, yet I am tired of my position, which has
proved to be far more laborious and confining than I had anticipated.
With my kindest
remembrance to Mrs. Dickinson, and the agreeable anticipation of meeting you
both after my return,
SOURCE: John R.
Dickinson, Editor, Speeches, Correspondence, Etc., of the Late Daniel
S. Dickinson of New York, Vol. 2, p. 488-9
BINGHAMTON, October 28, 1855.
MY DEAR GOVERNOR—I
am such a political heretic in the estimation of many of your friends, that if
I were to congratulate you upon your election they would question your
orthodoxy, and I therefore think it more safe to omit it. In the Senate we were
so far separated upon the leading questions that we had nothing to disturb our
private friendship; and I recur with pleasure to the recollections of our
official and social intercourse.
The immediate object
of this note, is to introduce to your acquaintance, and crave your kind offices
in behalf of my friend, J. Hunt, jr., of your State. His present political
associations I do not know, but I commend him as a gentleman of character and
attainments, and evidently worthy of your confidence and regard.
SOURCE: John R.
Dickinson, Editor, Speeches, Correspondence, Etc., of the Late Daniel
S. Dickinson of New York, Vol. 2, p. 490
Another hard night;
one of a few very cold and disagreeable ones. We left the ranks early for
rails, and after carrying them two or three miles, found, on arriving at camp,
there were plenty on hand and not accounted for. We got our supper and tried to
sleep, but it was almost impossible. We would have suffered severely had it not
been for our woollen blankets; as it was, when we woke up this morning, many of
us found the water in our canteens frozen, said canteens having been used as
pillows during the night.
WHITEHALL.
After starting at
seven o'clock, we kept halting continually until nine. We had travelled not
more than four or five miles when we heard heavy firing in our immediate front.
Our brigade being a head, our regiment was sent in about the first. We left the
main road, taking the one over the hill on the left, and were immediately under
fire. Here we came upon two men of "A" who had been killed by a shot
or shell. We dropped our knapsacks and filed along a line of fence, coming to a
halt in front of the Neuse, with the rebels on the opposite shore.
We fired several
volleys by company, then the order came, "At will," which was easier.
We had an old rail-fence in front, and beyond that a few barrels of pitch or
turpentine, then a slope, and the water, and the rebels beyond. We received a
good share of their bullets, and hoped ours did better execution, as we were
fortunate in not losing a man. There were several narrow escapes, however. The
flag was immediately behind our company, and a part of the time the flag of the
9th New Jersey was unfurled behind us also, which might have drawn an extra
amount of fire; but we did not suffer any loss, while some of the companies
lost several. "A," four killed and seven wounded; "B," one
wounded; "C," three killed; "K," one killed; "D,"
two wounded; "F," one wounded; "G," two wounded;
"H," two wounded. We were on the rebels' right. We stayed there about
an hour and a half and then were ordered back, and started directly across the
field in line of fire for cover, where we could see other regiments flat on the
ground. All the protection we had there, was by hugging mother earth and
folding our arms back of our heads, the bullets whistling close to us in a
neighborly fashion. Here we waited, and those who had hard-tack munched it; but
we kept up a thinking all the while whether the muscles of our arms would stop
a bullet from going through our heads. Soon Belger's battery took our old place
and opened on the rebels, who treated them pretty severely for a time, as we
could see good R. I. material dropping constantly. The battery boys came for
the water we had in our canteens, with which to cool their guns, the firing
having been quite brisk. After two hours of very steady work, the rebels
concluded to give up the fight. As they had destroyed the bridge yesterday, we
could not chase them, so fell in and started again for Goldsboro, and about
eight o'clock camped in a field at the junction of two roads.
SOURCE: John Jasper
Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass.
Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 26-7
GOLDSBORO.
There was no time
this morning to cook coffee, so we started on a cold-water breakfast, after
another cold night, with little good sleep, and marched without incident until
four P.M., when we heard the usual cannonade at the front. As soon as the noise
of the cannon was heard, then commenced the usual straggling. All have some of
course. The attention of our boys was called to a scene upon which we looked
with surprise, and which many of our company will never forget. As we passed
from the main road to take position on the hill, we saw a man, or what was
dressed as a man, in Uncle Sam's clothes, importuned by another to join his
command. He would not budge; and the concluding words we heard as we passed by,
were: "Damn it, man! just look here: look at this regiment going in; there
is not a man there; they are all boys with no hair on their faces, and you
afraid!" We pitied the fellow, and often wondered if he joined his
company. His pride had evidently gone on a furlough. We halted on a high hill,
from which we could see all that was going on, and soon found we were in
reserve, which pleased us all. After getting turnips and sweet potatoes,—of
which we found a plenty (all planted for us),—we straggled to the edge of the
bluff and watched the fight. In a tree close to where we stood was a signal
station, and by that we supposed Gen. Foster was near. On the left we could see
the railroad which leads into Goldsboro, and the fighting over it; to the
right, the bridge; while in front, close to the river, there seemed to be a
continuous sheet of flame from our advance and the rebels. Some of our men
worked their way to the mill; and a story was told by one of the 17th Mass.
Vols., who reached the bridge on his own account, that he saw a train of cars
stop there, and, just as it halted, a shot from one of our batteries struck the
engine in the head-plate, smashing the engine badly. He could see men jump from
the cars in all haste. (This story was told several years after the action; and
the fact of those men coming as they did, and perhaps others behind, may have
been the reason we left so suddenly, and went to New Berne.)
About seven o'clock
Gen. Foster rode past our line, saying: "The object of the expedition [the
burning of the bridge and partially destroying the connection between the Gulf
States and Richmond] is accomplished. We are going to New Berne."
We were immediately
formed, and started on the back track with cheers for the general; but we had
not gone three miles before we found we were not "out of the woods."
Orders came to countermarch, so we turned about, wondering what all the
artillery firing meant. We tramped back about two miles or so through the
woods, on fire on both sides of the road, turned to the left down hill, and
formed line in silence, waiting. We were not allowed to speak or light our
pipes, but waited, it seemed, for two hours. The regiment was formed in
division column closed in mass; the company behind us being only a few feet
away, and in front nothing but the pickets and supposable rebels. After staying
here a while we heard the artillery go along the road, and soon followed. We
reached camp about ten o'clock, tired and hungry, but no chance to get anything
to eat, and a man missing. He turned up afterwards, having settled himself for
a nap when we were in the woods. Not finding any one near when he awakened, he
concluded to strike out for himself—happily remembering that old broken caisson
beside the road, and recollecting on which side he left it on going in, he soon
came Russelling" into camp with the rest of us.
SOURCE: John Jasper
Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass.
Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 27-8
We started for home
about five this morning, expecting to make easy marches, but have been
disappointed so far, as we have tramped just about the same gait as when going
up, making about twenty miles to-day and camping in the same field we did the
night out of Kinston, about five miles from Whitehall.
SOURCE: John Jasper
Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass.
Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 28-9
We were up and at it
at the usual time this morning, on the home tramp, which kept up the spirits of
many. About ten o'clock we came in sight of our first day's fighting ground. We
found that several of the graves of our men had been opened by the rebels.
After repairing them we kept on, taking the Neuse Road, which we steered clear
of in coming up on account of the heavy entrenchments and barricades the rebels
had placed on it. Every little while we had to leave the road and take to the
woods to get by their obstructions, which continued for four or five miles from
Kinston; some of them were very formidable.
About three o'clock
we marched into a large field on the left of the road to receive rations, which
we understood had been brought to us on the cars from New Berne, and it was
about time; our larder was getting low. We received a little bread, but not
enough to satisfy both stomach and haversack, so we filled the former and
stowed away the crumbs that were left in the latter. The report is that the
bread and beef were left at New Berne, and soap and candles shipped to us,—an
explanation which did not soothe our feelings entirely.
We marched about
five miles farther and then camped for the night.
SOURCE: John Jasper
Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass.
Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 29
After some trouble
we managed to get to bed last night about eleven o'clock; but for a long time
after that the mules kept us awake; perhaps they were hungry also. The weather
was clear and not cold, so we got a little rest. At six o'clock this morning we
were ordered on, after a very light breakfast, excepting for a few who may have
foraged. There were a few chickens and a little applejack about our mess.
To-day has been the hardest of any day of the tramp, and there has been more
straggling. The company organization was in the line, but thinned out terribly.
We had no noon-rest; but at two o'clock we filed from the road to a field, came
to the front, and received a good scolding. Our regiment looked as if it had
been through two Bull Runs; only about 150 left, and the rest not
"accounted for." In fact there were very few left of those who should
do the accounting. The colonel stormed a little, but that did not bring up the
men; so, as he was probably as hungry, if not as tired, as we were, he let us
go to eating, which was a decided farce. Our haversacks were as flat as our
stomachs. We found a few grains of coffee and tobacco-crumbs in the bottom of
our bags, and succeeded in digging a few sweet potatoes, which we ate raw. We
were told they were very fullsome. We waited here two hours or so for the
stragglers, who finally came along. They had been having a fine time, plenty of
room to walk, and two hours more to do it in than we had; and, more than that,
they were in the majority, so nothing could be done but "Right shoulder
shift" and put the best foot forward. About sundown we saw, in crossing a
bridge, a wagon-load of hard-tack bottom side up in the creek. Some of the boys
sampled the bread, but it was not fit to eat. Shortly after a signboard indicated
fourteen miles to New Berne. That was encouraging! The walking was fearful, the
roads full of water, in some places waist deep, and covered with a skimming of
ice. At last we met a wagon loaded with bread, and after much talk with the
driver we got what we wanted. Next we met a man who said it was only twelve
miles to New Berne. They either have long miles or else some one made a
mistake; we seemingly had been walking two hours or more from the fourteenth
mile post, and now it was twelve miles. We came to the conclusion not to ask
any more questions, but "go it blind.”
We at last reached
the picket-post, seven miles out, and halted to rest and allow the artillery to
go through. Here Col. Lee told us we were at liberty to stay out and come into
camp Sunday; but most of "E" thought of the letters and the supper we
would probably get, and concluded to stand by the flag. After a rest we started
again, and at last began to close up and halt often, so we knew we were coming
to some place or other.
The writer has no
very distinct idea of those last seven miles, excepting that he was trying to
walk, smoke, and go to sleep at the same time, and could only succeed in
swearing rather faintly, and in a stupid sort of manner, at everything and
every one. It was dark and foggy, but finally we saw what appeared to be the
headlight of a locomotive a long way off. Then the fort loomed up, and we were
passing under an arch or bridge, and in a few minutes we reached
"E's" barrack, and our troubles were all forgotten. Now we were wide
awake; gave three hearty cheers for every one; had all the baked beans and
coffee we could stagger under; and then the captain's "Attention for
letters" brought us to our feet. Some had as many as a dozen. They had to
be read at once, and, notwithstanding our fatigue and the lateness of the hour,
read they were.
SOURCE: John Jasper
Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass.
Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 29-30
