Following the American Civil War Sesquicentennial with day by day writings of the time, currently 1863.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Camp near Mouth East River, Giles County, May 14, 1862. Wednesday. — Rained violently last night; not a bad morning, however. Rumors of defeat of General Milroy up northeast by Stonewall Jackson. Don’t believe it. If true, it is not very important, if the taking of Norfolk holds out. We ought to catch the whole Rebel army near Richmond. With gunboats at West Point up York River, up James River, and so on, we must have that whole region soon. We now have a base of operations close up to the enemy’s right. — Rain in violent storms during the day two or three times.

No bread; men want crackers. Transportation insufficient. But for the large quantities of bacon we get in this neighborhood, we should suffer. General Cox with Second Brigade is at Napoleon French’s, six or seven miles from here. Will be here tomorrow. General McClellan within twenty miles of Richmond! The crisis is now at hand. If no serious disaster occurs in the next ten days, the Rebel cobhouse tumbles speedily and forever!

May 14.—The anxiety of all classes for the safety of Richmond is now intense, though a strong faith in the goodness of God and the valour of our troops keeps us calm and hopeful. A gentleman, high in position, panic-struck, was heard to exclaim, yesterday: “Norfolk has fallen, Richmond will fall, Virginia is to be given up, and to-morrow I shall leave this city, an exile and a beggar.” Others are equally despondent, and, as is too frequently the case in times of trouble, attribute all our disasters to the incompetency and faithlessness of those entrusted with the administration of public affairs. Even General Lee does not escape animadversion, and the President is the subject of the most bitter maledictions. I have been shocked to hear that a counter-revolution, if not openly advocated, has been distinctly foreshadowed, as the only remedy for our ills. The public authorities of Richmond, greatly moved by the defenceless condition of the city, appointed a committee, and appropriated funds to aid in completing the obstructions at Drury’s Bluff. The Legislature also appointed a committee to wait upon the President and ascertain the progress of the work. A member of this committee, a near connection of mine, has given me an account of their interview with Mr. Davis. He received them, as is his invariable custom, with marked cordiality and respect. The subject was opened by the chairman of the Senate Committee, who stated the object of the mission, and made appropriate inquiries for information. The President proceeded to give a distinct narrative of the progress of the work, expressed his great desire for its early completion, and regretted, that the natural difficulties arising from frequent freshets in the river, which the efforts of man could not overcome, had rendered the progress of the work slow. He said he had just returned from a visit to the Bluff, accompanied by General Lee; and having heard complaints against the man in charge of the work, he had discharged him, and had appointed another, strongly recommended for efficiency. That the flood was now subsiding, and he thought he could assure the committee that the obstruction of the river would be complete in twenty-four hours. At this point the door-bell rang, and General Lee was announced. “Ask General Lee in,” said the President. The servant returned, saying that the General wished to see the President for a few moments in the ante-room. The President retired, met General Lee and the Secretary of the Navy, and soon returned to the committee. The conversation being renewed, some further inquiry was made with regard to Drury’s Bluff. The President replied: “I should have given you a very different answer to your question a few moments ago from that which I shall be compelled to give you now. Those traitors at Norfolk, I fear, have defeated our plans.” “What traitors ?” asked nearly every member of the committee at the same moment. He then proceeded to give a detail of the desertion of the captain and crew of a steamer engaged in transporting guns from Norfolk to Drury’s Bluff, who had gone over to the enemy with vessel and cargo, and full information as to the unfinished condition of the works. A member of the committee asked: “Can nothing be done to counteract these traitors?” The President replied: “Every thing will be done, I assure you, which can be done.” The member continued: “But, Mr. President, what will be done?” The President politely declined to answer the question, saying there were some things that it was not proper to communicate. The member again pressed for the information, saying: “This is a confidential meeting, and, of course, nothing transpiring here will reach the public.” The President, with a smile on his countenance, said: “Mr. _____, I think there was much wisdom in the remark of old John Brown at Harper’s Ferry: ‘A man who is not capable of keeping his own secrets is not fit to be trusted with the business of other people.'” There was no unpleasant feeling manifested in the committee, and the parting was kind and cordial on both sides; yet, next morning, it was rumoured on the streets that the President had been rude to the committee, and that the meeting had been extremely unpleasant. On the night of this meeting the river was obstructed by the sinking of the steamer Patrick Henry, and other vessels, in the channel. This, it is supposed, was the plan agreed upon by Mr. Davis and General Lee in their short interview. Several days have passed since this interview, and I trust that all is now safe. How thankful I am that I knew nothing of this until the danger was passed! The Legislature is in almost constant session during these dark days. It contains many gentlemen of great intelligence and of ardent zeal in the public cause. The whole body is as true as steel, and its constant effort is to uphold the hands of the President, to fire the popular heart, and to bring out all the resources of Virginia in defence of the liberty and independence of the South. I am told that day after day, and night after night, “thoughts that breathe and words that burn” are uttered in that hall, which, in other days, has often rung with the eloquence of the noblest statesmen, patriots, and orators of the land. These proceedings are all in secret session, and, for prudential reasons, are withheld from the public; but are they never to see the light? Is no one taking note of them? I trust so, indeed, that the civil history of Virginia, during this great struggle, may not be lost to posterity.

MAY 14TH.—Our army has fallen back to within four miles of Richmond. Much anxiety is felt for the fate of the city. Is there no turning point in this long lane of downward progress? Truly it may be said, our affairs at this moment are in a critical condition. I trust in God, and the chivalry and patriotism of the South in the field.

The enemy’s fleet of gun-boats are ascending James River, and the obstructions are not completed. We have but one or two casemated guns in battery, but we have brave men there.

Wednesday, 14th—We cleaned up our camp today and had company drill twice. There was some heavy musketry firing on the front lines, and the artillery was in action on both sides, but not much damage was done.

May 14th. We weighed anchor early for Vicksburg; at noon we came upon an island which divided the river into two channels. We took the right and pushed along within three rods of the trees, and could hear the birds singing in them. Nothing of note occurred until two o’clock P. M., when in making a short turn we ran aground, but by properly disposing of the crew we were soon afloat and passing along as gaily as ever; we ran on till eight P. M., when in trying to lay the ship to out of the current she was run high aground; the night was occupied in trying to get her afloat, but without success.

May 14th.

I am beginning to believe that we are even of more importance in Baton Rouge than we thought we were. It is laughable to hear the things a certain set of people, who know they can’t visit us, say about the whole family. . . . When father was alive, they dared not talk about us aloud, beyond calling us the “Proud Morgans” and the “Aristocracy of Baton Rouge” . . . But now father is gone, the people imagine we are public property, to be criticized, vilified, and abused to their hearts’ content. . . .

And now, because they find absurdities don’t succeed, they try improbabilities. So yesterday the town was in a ferment because it was reported the Federal officers had called on the Miss Morgans, and all the gentlemen were anxious to hear how they had been received. One had the grace to say, “If they did, they received the best lesson there that they could get in town; those young ladies would meet them with the true Southern spirit.” The rest did not know; they would like to find out.

I suppose the story originated from the fact that we were unwilling to blackguard — yes, that is the word — the Federal officers here, and would not agree with many of our friends in saying they were liars, thieves, murderers, scoundrels, the scum of the earth, etc. Such epithets are unworthy of ladies, I say, and do harm, rather than advance our cause. Let them be what they will, it shall not make me less the lady; I say it is unworthy of anything except low newspaper war, such abuse, and I will not join in.

I have a brother-in-law in the Federal army whom I love and respect as much as any one in the world, and shall not readily agree that his being a Northerner would give him an irresistible desire to pick my pockets, and take from him all power of telling the truth. No! There are few men I admire more than Major Drum, and I honor him for his independence in doing what he believes right. Let us have liberty of speech and action in our land, I say, but not gross abuse and calumny. Shall I acknowledge that the people we so recently called our brothers are unworthy of consideration, and are liars, cowards, dogs? Not I! If they conquer us, I acknowledge them as a superior race; I will not say that we were conquered by cowards, for where would that place us? It will take a brave people to gain us, and that the Northerners undoubtedly are. I would scorn to have an inferior foe; I fight only my equals. These women may acknowledge that cowards have won battles in which their brothers were engaged, but I, I will ever say mine fought against brave men, and won the day. Which is most honorable?

I was never a Secessionist, for I quietly adopted father’s views on political subjects without meddling with them. But even father went over with his State, and when so many outrages were committed by the fanatical leaders of the North, though he regretted the Union, said, “Fight to the death for our liberty.” I say so, too. I want to fight until we win the cause so many have died for. I don’t believe in Secession, but I do in Liberty. I want the South to conquer, dictate its own terms, and go back to the Union, for I believe that, apart, inevitable ruin awaits both. It is a rope of sand, this Confederacy, founded on the doctrine of Secession, and will not last many years — not five. The North Cannot subdue us. We are too determined to be free. They have no right to confiscate our property to pay debts they themselves have incurred. Death as a nation, rather than Union on such terms. We will have our rights secured on so firm a basis that it can never be shaken. If by power of overwhelming numbers they conquer us, it will be a barren victory over a desolate land. We, the natives of this loved soil, will be beggars in a foreign land; we will not submit to despotism under the garb of Liberty. The North will find herself burdened with an unparalleled debt, with nothing to show for it except deserted towns, burning homes, a standing army which will govern with no small caprice, and an impoverished land.

If that be treason, make the best of it!

14th. Wednesday. Left Carthage at 8. Most of the boys footed it. My horse was well enough but I thought I would fare as the rest did. Stopped to graze our horses at ten miles. I was very tired. Got my haversack and gave my horse into Tom’s care. I went to a little bush and ate a lunch in sight of my horse. Soon fell asleep and when I awoke, could not find my horse. Baggage wagons were going on. One of the boys said he saw the horse go ahead. Hurried on to see. Tom rode all about the field and prairie vainly. I got a horse and another man and went back and searched thoroughly and vainly. Reached Lamar in the evening.

14th.—At White House. Marched here to-day. It is known as the “Custis Estate,” and is now owned by the rebel General Lee, nephew of the wife of General Washton, and has on it a large family of negroes, about 300. ‘Twas here that General Washington overstaid his leave, the only time during his eventful life that he was known to be guilty of a breach of military discipline. Here he courted and married his wife. It is a most beautiful place on the banks of the Pamunkey river. It consists of about 5,000 acres and we now pasture our horses in a field of 1,000 acres of the prettiest wheat I ever saw. ‘Tis waist high, thick on the ground, just heading out, and stretches away down the river as far as the sight can reach. By the side of it is an immense plain of rich and luxuriant clover, on which is encamped our army of about 80,000, with all the concomitants of horses, mules, ambulances, transportation wagons, &c.

Close by our encampment runs the Pamunkey River, up and down which a crowd of transports, gun boats, steamers, schooners, and all manner of water craft, are constantly passing. And here again we get another view of the blasting influence of the institution of Slavery—the most beautiful country on earth, with a fine navigable stream opening to it the markets of the world, and yet in its whole course of 100 miles, it has not, in two hundred and fifty years, built up a town of one thousand inhabitants.

We found and captured on this farm five thousand bushels of corn and seven thousand bushels of wheat. On this place, too, crosses the railroad from Richmond to West Point, making it a strong strategic point.

One circumstance occurred on our arrival here this morning, showing the distance between officers and men, and so characteristic is it of the man, that I cannot refrain from recording it in my journal, as “food for thoughts” hereafter. We found some negroes drawing a seine in the river here. Some soldiers made a bargain to make a draw for them, fixing price and paying for it. The men had been on short rations of hard bread and salt meat for several days. Being compelled to carry their provisions in their haversacks, they can carry nothing but this simple food, whilst the officers, having transportation at command, take with them all the comforts of the country. Well, the net was cast, and whilst the drawing was going on, General H______ rode down to the beach and watched the operation with much apparent interest. The draught was nearly at shore; the hungry mouths, and watching eyes of the soldiers were being gratified by the anticipations of a joyous feast, for it was now beyond doubt that the net was cast at a propitious moment, and was coming in loaded with herring, shad and eels. But what right had common soldiers to indulgences like these? The General’s mouth watered too. The instant the draught was brought to land, the bayonets of the General’s guard bristled all around, and the General’s capacious bags received every fish. Off they were carried for himself and friends, without even a nod in acknowledgement. How ungrateful common soldiers must be not to love their commanders! How abject common soldiers are when compelled to submit to indignities like this, and dare not murmur! Now there was scarcely a soldier on that beach who would not have deemed it a pleasure to relinquish his right to what he so much coveted, at the request of his General, but to be driven from his rights by the bayonets of his legitimate protector!

Rains hard this P. M.

“Wilson Small,” May 14.

Dear Friend, — Last evening we parted from all our poor fellows, except Captain Curtis, the extensive hero, who is said to-day to have a chance for life. Our men were put on board the “Elm City,” which has been detailed to the Commission. She filled up this morning with four hundred and forty patients, and sailed for Washington. Mrs. George Strong takes charge of the women’s department, and Miss Whetten goes with her. I was sent on board this morning to assist them, and remained there till the boat sailed. The “Elm City” is a large river-steamboat, with wide spaces on all her decks, where badly wounded men can be laid in rows on cots and mattresses, — they could not be put in bunks or berths. She cannot make a sea-passage, and is therefore sent up the Potomac to Washington.

It is an immense piece of work to get the patients (many of them very low, or in great agony) on board and into their .beds, and stimulated and fed and made comfortable. So much is needed, — quick eyes and ears, and, above all, some one to keep severe order in the pantry, or rather the kitchen for the sick-food. Mrs. Griffin is magnificent at that. I never saw her hurried or worried for a moment; consequently she saves time and temper, and does the very best that can be done. She spent this morning on the “Elm City” watching over three men until they died, receiving their last wishes, which she is now writing to their wives.

You will get little public information from me. I am told we went some way up the Pamunky River yesterday. Mr. Olmsted landed, and went over the Williamsburg battle-field with incredible difficulty and jolting. It is two and a half miles long, with the fences all broken down. The enemy are expected to make a desperate stand at Bottom Bridge — wherever that may be. The army is now making its way along the banks of the Pamunky; great regret is felt that General McDowell was not allowed to co-operate at Gloucester. The spirit of our men, their confidence in their leaders, their pride in belonging to McClellan and the Army of the Potomac, is splendid, so far as I see it; and everybody says the same. Many fine traits of character come out,—such as their self-forgetfulness and tenderness in caring for sick comrades, their endurance of suffering, and even contempt for it. A poor little boy of seventeen, shot through the lungs, was so unwilling to speak of himself, never murmuring, but roused into excitement on the arrival of the New York papers with accounts of the battles. I began to read to him about the battle of Williamsburg, where he was wounded; but he gurgled out: “Not that! I know all about that. What did our boys do next?”

The fire we saw on our way across the Chesapeake was the burning of the Navy-yard at Norfolk, and the dull explosion which we heard was the blowing up of the “Merrimac.”

Fort Barnard, Va., May 14, 1862.

Dear Mother:

We have had great news for the week past, but are a little anxious about Halleck; afraid he will be whipped and that will be a stunner. Norfolk has been taken. You will have heard of it before this reaches you; however, it is good news. I can scarcely hear myself think, the drums are beating so like the old Harry.

Roll-call. Bed-time.

Tuesday morning, 6 a.m.

Just answered to the roll-call and now can write a line. We had mortar firing the other day. The shell can be seen in the air; it goes to an immense height and then comes down on the object smash. The shell weighs 91 lbs. It would be a good thing if a fellow had got to die, to have it drive him in; but he would want it taken off afterwards, because it would make a fellow’s head ache.

Yours,

L. Bradley, Jr.