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

Friday, August 10, 2012

August 10 — This morning when I awoke the wounded Federals were still lying on the field. Little after sunrise we started with Ashby’s old brigade of cavalry, now commanded by General Robinson, on a general reconnoissance to the right of Pope’s army. We moved off to the right of the battle-field and passed around the end of Cedar Mountain to the east side, then moved out on a beautiful level plain traversed by the Orange and Alexandria Railroad. After we went about three miles we struck the railroad and followed it about a mile and a half. We were then near General Pope’s army, and some of our cavalry that were scouting through the woods not very far from where we halted with the battery ventured unawares near Pope’s headquarters. I do not know whether our scouting party was discovered by the enemy or not, nor how close we were to the Yanks; but we were ordered to go into position with as little noise as possible and were even not allowed to talk above a whisper. Danger must have lurked near; however, I did not see it.

When we fell back from the advanced position we did it by sections; one section remained in battery until the other one retired and went into position. There must have been something dangerously close around that caused such a silent and cautious movement. When we had fallen back about a mile we remained in battery about half an hour, then returned to the hill south of the battle-ground where we were yesterday when the battle opened. We did not come back over the same route we went this morning, but flanked farther east and had to cross Cedar Mountain to get back, as the Yankee cavalry were looking and feeling for us along our morning track. I heard this morning that General Pope is getting heavy reinforcements from the direction of the Rappahannock.

I know now that the main object of our reconnoissance was to ascertain what is transpiring in Pope’s rear just at this particular time, after receiving his first military object lesson as taught by Stonewall Jackson.

We are camped this evening on a hill south of and overlooking yesterday’s fighting ground.

Unidentified young sailor in Union uniform

Library of Congress image:

Unidentified young sailor in Union uniform with American flag in front of backdrop showing naval scene.

Donated to the Library of Congress 2010 by Tom Liljenquist; Liljenquist Family Collection of Civil War Photographs.

The Last Full Measure: The Liljenquist Family Collection.

On the 10th August, Commander Wainwright died, after an illness of two weeks. His remains were placed in a metallic coffin and sent on board the U. S. steamer Miami, which steamer carried them to Washington, D. C.

Headquarters Porter’s Corps,
Camp near Harrison’s Landing [Aug., ’62].

Dear Father, — Here I am, thank Heaven, under the Stars and Stripes again, ready and willing to go at my duty. I reached here this morning at 7.30 o’clock, having left Aiken’s Landing on the James River at 4 o’clock A.M., coming down on board the steamer Ariel.

After many disappointments and delays we left the Libby Prison at Richmond yesterday at 12 o’clock. Though the sun was at its hottest heat, and pouring down its literally burning rays, and although we had to march fifteen miles on foot, I doubt if there was one officer among the one hundred and fifty who was not glad and willing to start at that precise moment in preference to any other, and undergo the fatigue and labor of the march for the sake of getting away from that vile prison. We started off at a smart pace, too much so indeed, but every one was anxious to get away as soon as possible. We marched steadily for three miles and then made a halt at a bridge. Almost every one was tired out by that time, and several were even in danger of being sun-struck. After going a quarter of a mile farther, the officer in charge found it necessary to halt at a house surrounded by trees, the officers being completely used up. He determined luckily to wait until five o’clock before starting again, by which time the sun would be less powerful. The field officers and the sick, who were in wagons, soon caught up with us, and got out to enjoy the shade. We waited till 3.30, when the sun became clouded, and the air cooler. I was completely used up, the skin being worn off my foot by the chafing of my boot. I got into one of the wagons and off we started again. Soon a strong wind came up, completely enveloping us in a cloud of dust, of a thicker and dirtier nature than I have ever known before. Soon, however, rain came, and made the travelling quite pleasant. We went by the Drewry’s Bluff road, and passed by some dozen works on that road alone, besides seeing as many more on the other side of the river. Our route lay along the river part of the way, although we were led some four miles away from our course, in order that we might not see some new works they were making. The country was rich and fertile, and was planted entirely with corn, which was in very good condition. By eight o’clock we reached Aiken’s Landing, and were transferred to the steamer without giving any parole, and without any conditions. Our exchange is complete at 12 o’clock to-day. We slept on board the steamer and started early this morning. I walked up to headquarters and was very kindly welcomed by the general and staff. The general has been very kind to me, having written me that you were all well, and relieved of all anxiety for me. He also sent me $25.50, which was very acceptable. $12.50 was in gold, worth about $25.00 in Confederate notes.

In regard to my treatment in Richmond, I met with very kind treatment from the officer in charge, Lieutenant Trabue. The first officer who had charge of us, Captain William Read, was as conceited a puppy as ever lived. He was impudent to the officers, and was consequently removed. Trabue then had charge of us and was very kind and obliging. He was removed, however, on account of the escape of five officers, three of whom made good their escape, and two were recaptured. We then were more strictly guarded and the privilege of getting spring water refused us, although this was partially restored to us again. Most of the officers who had anything to do with us, treated us personally in a very kind manner, but their government treated us quite harshly. The only food furnished us was sour bread, meat, and salt, and at times a little vinegar. The meat was made into greasy soup, entirely unfit for a human being’s stomach. If we had not had some money, we should have starved. I had only one dollar when I reached Richmond, but I met with an officer who lent me twenty-two dollars, and when that was used up, I sold my rubber coat, which cost me $6, for $15. Then I also received $25 from the general, $9.50 of which I gave to Harry Russell,[1] who was taken prisoner by Ewell or Jackson last Saturday. All Pope’s officers, 30 in number, taken on Saturday, were treated shamefully. They live in a room with the privates and are allowed nothing but bread and meat, and are not permitted to buy anything outside. No blankets are given them, but when I went away I sent Harry Russell my bed and blanket. I was not allowed to see him, but received a short note from him, in which he said he was well, and I also heard that he was well and uninjured from officers who saw him. I shall write Mr. Shaw about his being captured. Harry R. said in his note to me that Major Savage was wounded in arm and leg and taken prisoner. When I went away I sent Russell all the money I had. I will enclose the note, which I received from him. His order on Mr. Shaw was his own idea, of course, and not mine. I shall write Mr. Shaw and let him know that Harry is well.

I send you a list of the prices of articles of food in Richmond. Butter, $1 per lb. Apples, $.50 to $1.00 a doz. Eggs, $1.00 per doz. Molasses, $.75 per pint. Sugar, $.75 per lb. Cherries, 50 cts. per quart. Potatoes, 30 cts. per quart. Coffee, $2.50 per lb.; and rye coffee, $.75 per lb. Tea, $16.00 per lb.

On my way from Richmond I saw Merrimac No. 2, lying at the Rockets just below. She must be very nearly finished. She was covered like the roof of a house and will be a formidable antagonist if she ever succeeds in getting out. We were kept in the Libby Prison for a week, and were then moved to a building on 18th St., where there were splendid opportunities for escaping. I bought me a Secesh uniform and should have tried it if we had not received the news of the exchange. There were five or six Union families within a stone’s throw of our prison, and we used to converse with them by the dumb alphabet and by writing on boards, etc. The officers frequently went out nights through a hole made in a fence separating another building from ours, and came back again after walking about the city. I will give you an account of my imprisonment at greater length, in a few days.

General Porter has been away all the day and will not return till morning. Even if he should offer me a furlough I should not take it while there was any chance of a move. I think we shall move in a few days, but I think it will be towards Fortress Monroe. . . .

 


[1] The late Col. Henry S. Russell, for many years Fire Commissioner of Boston.

August 10th, Sunday.

Is this really Sunday? Never felt less pious, or less seriously disposed! Listen to my story, and though I will, of course, fall far short of the actual terror that reigned, yet it will show it in a lukewarm light, that can at least recall the excitement to me.

To begin, then, last evening, about six o’clock, as we sat reading, sewing, and making lint in the parlor, we heard a tremendous shell whizzing past, which those who watched, said passed not five feet above the house. Of course, there was a slight stir among the unsophisticated; though we, who had passed through bombardments, sieges, and alarms of all kinds, coolly remarked, “a shell,” and kept quiet. (The latter class was not very numerous.) It was from one of the three Yankee boats that lay in the river close by (the Essex and two gunboats), which were sweeping teams, provisions, and negroes from all the plantations they stopped at from Baton Rouge up. The negroes, it is stated, are to be armed against us as in town, where all those who manned the cannon on Tuesday were, for the most part, killed; and served them right! Another shell was fired at a carriage containing Mrs. Durald and several children, under pretense of discovering if she was a guerrilla, doubtless. Fortunately, she was not hurt, however.

By the time the little émeute had subsided, determined to have a frolic, Miss Walters, Ginnie, and I got on our horses, and rode off down the Arkansas Lane, to have a gallop and a peep at the gunboats from the levee. But mother’s entreaties prevented us from going that near, as she cried that it was well known they fired at every horse or vehicle they saw in the road, seeing a thousand guerrillas in every puff of dust, and we were sure to be killed, murdered, and all sorts of bloody deaths awaited us; so to satisfy her, we took the road about a mile from the river, in full view, however. We had not gone very far before we met a Mr. Watson, a plain farmer of the neighborhood, who begged us to go back. “You’ll be fired on, ladies, sure! You don’t know the danger! Take my advice and go home as quick as possible before they shell you! They shot buggies and carriages, and of course they won’t mind horses with women! Please go home!” But Ginnie, who had taken a fancy to go on, acted as spokeswoman, and determined to go on in spite of his advice, so, nothing loath to follow her example, we thanked him, and rode on. Another met us; looked doubtful, said it was not so dangerous if the Yankees did not see the dust; but if they did, we would be pretty apt to see a shell soon after. Here was frolic! So we rode on some mile or two beyond, but failing to see anything startling, turned back again.

About two miles from here, we met Mr. Watson coming at full speed. The ladies, he said, had sent him after us in all haste; there was a report that the whole coast was to be shelled; a lady had passed, flying with her children; the carriage was ordered out; they were only waiting for us, to run, too. We did not believe a word of it, and were indignant at their credulity, as well as determined to persuade them to remain where they were, if possible. When told their plan was to run to the house formerly used as a guerrilla camp, we laughed heartily. Suppose the Yankees fired a shell into it to discover its inhabitants? The idea of choosing a spot so well known! And what fun in running to a miserable hole, when we might sleep comfortably here? I am afraid rebellion was in the air. Indeed, an impudent little negro, who threw open the gate for us, interrupted Ginnie in the midst of a tirade with a sly “Here’s the beginning of a little fuss!”

We found them all crazy with fear. I did not say much; I was too provoked to trust myself to argue with so many frightened women. I only said I saw no necessity. Ginnie resisted; but finally succumbed. Mr. Watson, whom we had enlisted on our side also, said it was by no means necessary, but if we were determined, we might go to his house, about four miles away, and stay there. It was very small, but we were welcome. We had in the mean time thrown off our riding-skirts, and stood just in our plain dresses, though the others were freshly dressed for an exodus. Before the man left, the carriage came, though by that time we had drawn half the party on our side; we said we would take supper, and decide after, so he went off.

In a few moments a rocket went up from one of the boats, which attracted our attention. Five minutes after, we saw a flash directly before us. “See it? Lightning, I expect,” said Phillie. The others all agreed; but I kept quiet, knowing that some, at least, knew what it was as well as I, and determined not to give the alarm — for I was beginning to feel foolish. Before half a minute more came a tearing, hissing sound, a sky-rocket whose music I had heard before. Instantly I remembered my running-bag, and flew upstairs to get it, escaping just in time from the scene which followed on the gallery which was afterwards most humorously described to me. But I was out of hearing of the screams of each (and yet I must have heard them); neither saw Miss Walters tumble against the wall, nor mother turn over her chair, nor the general mêlée that followed, in which Mrs. Walters, trying to scale the carriage, was pulled out by Uncle Will, who shouted to his plunging horses first, then to the other unreasoning creatures, “Woa, there! ‘T ain’t safe! Take to the fields! Take to the woods! Run to the sugar-house! Take to your heels!” in a frenzy of excitement.

I escaped all that, and was putting on my hoops and hastily catching up any article that presented itself to me in my speed, when the shell burst over the roof, and went rolling down on the gallery, according to the account of those then below. Two went far over the house, out of sight. All three were seen by Mr. Watson, who came galloping up in a few moments, crying, “Ladies, for God’s sake, leave the house!” Then I heard mother calling, “Sarah! You will be killed! Leave your clothes and run!”— and a hundred ejaculations that came too fast for me to answer except by an occasional “ Coming, if you will send me a candle!” Candle was the same as though I had demanded a hand-grenade, in mother’s opinion, for she was sure it would be the signal for a bombardment of my exposed room; so I tossed down my bundles, swept combs and hairpins into my bosom (all points up), and ravished a candle from some one. How quickly I got on, then! I saved the most useless of articles with the greatest zeal, and probably left the most serviceable ones. One single dress did my running-bag contain — a white linen cambric with a tiny pink flower — the one I wore when I told Hal good-bye for the last time. The others I left.

When I got down with my knapsack, mother, Phillie, and Mrs. Walters were —

 

August 10, 1862, Sunday. The last two days have been excessively warm. Thermometer on the north porch at 100 on each day. A slight breeze from the west makes this day somewhat more comfortable. News unimportant from the army, and but little from the Navy. Shall have something exciting within a few days. Sensation items are the favorite ones of the press. Alarming predictions delight their readers. Am sorry that better progress is not made in the war upon the Rebels. Our squadrons are paralyzed everywhere by the inactive and dilatory movements of the army. Vicksburg should have been taken by the first of June, but no adequate cooperating military force was furnished, and as a consequence our largest squadron in the Gulf and our flotilla in the Mississippi have been detained and injured. The most disreputable naval affair of the War was the descent of the steam ram Arkansas through both squadrons till she hauled in under the batteries of Vicksburg, and there the two flag officers abandoned the place and the ironclad ram, Farragut and his force going down to New Orleans, and Davis proceeding with his flotilla up the river. I have written them both, briefly but expressively, on the subject of the ram Arkansas. I do not blame them in regard to Vicksburg, though had Farragut obeyed his original orders and gone up the river at once after the capture of New Orleans, I think things might have been different. Butler would not, I presume, give sufficient support from the army, for he has proved prompt as well as fearless.

We have sensation articles in yesterday’s New York papers that the steamer Fingal at Savannah has been clad with iron and threatens our army and vessels. Have no word from Admiral Du Pont, who is watchful but slow to express apprehension. Am inclined to believe there is truth in the rumor that the boat has been clad with armor, but have my doubts if there is any immediate intention to attempt to pass outside. She is probably designed for river defense of the city against our gunboats; but may, if there is opportunity, assume the offensive. In the mean time the sensationalists will get up exciting alarms and terrify the public into distrust and denunciation of the Navy Department.

We have similar sensations every few days in regard to Merrimac No. 2, an armored boat at Richmond. As yet she has made no attempt to pass below the obstructions, though two or three times a week we are assured they are in sight, — “Smoke from half a dozen steam-stacks visible.” Wilkes writes he is fully prepared for her and her associates at any time, and Rodgers[1] writes to the same effect. But in a day or two some changes will take place that may affect operations on James River.

Have had to write Wilkes pretty decisively. He is very exacting towards others, but is not himself as obedient as he should be. Interposes his own authority to interrupt the execution of the orders of the Department. Wrote him that this was not permissible, that I expected his command to obey him, and it was no less imperative that he should obey the orders of the Department. He wrote for permission to dismiss from service a class of officers if they did not suit him, and as he thought them inefficient. I told him the suggestion could not be entertained, that the Department must retain the administrative control of the Navy. I have not heard from him in reply, or explanation. It is pretty evident that he will be likely to cause trouble to the Department. He has abilities but not good judgment in all respects. Will be likely to rashly assume authority, and do things that may involve himself and the country in difficulty, and hence I was glad that not I but the President and Secretary of State suggested him for that command. It is the first time that either has proposed a candidate for a command, since taking Stringham from the office of detail in 1861 to go to Pensacola. Seward’s intrigue. It was almost a necessity that something should be done for Wilkes. His act, in taking Mason and Slidell from the Trent, had given him éclat, — it was popular with the country, was considered right by the people, even if rash and irregular; but when and how to dispose of Wilkes was an embarrassment to me, until the command of the James River Flotilla was suggested. He was, however, unwilling to report to Goldsborough, and to have done so would have caused delay. But giving him an independent command caused Goldsborough to take offense, and he asked to resign the command of the squadron. To this I had no objection, for he was proving himself inefficient, — had done nothing effective since the frigates were sunk by the Merrimac, nor of himself much before.

The State Department is in constant trepidation, fearing our naval officers do not know their duties, or that they will transcend them. Both points are marked weaknesses in the management of our foreign affairs. We are insulted, wronged, and badly treated by the British authorities, especially at Nassau, and I have called the attention of the Secretary of State repeatedly to the facts, but he fears to meet them. After degrading ourselves, we shall be compelled to meet them. I am for no rash means, but I am clearly and decidedly for maintaining our rights. Almost all the aid which the Rebels have received in arms, munitions, and articles contraband have gone to them through the professedly neutral British port of Nassau. From them the Rebels have derived constant encouragement and support, from the commencement of hostilities. Our officers and people are treated with superciliousness and contempt by the authorities and inhabitants, and scarcely a favor or courtesy is extended to them while they are showered upon the Rebels. It is there that vessels are prepared to run the blockade and violate our laws, by the connivance and with the knowledge of the Colonial, and, I apprehend, the parent, government.

In reorganizing the Department there are some difficulties. I am assailed for continuing Lenthall as Naval Constructor at the head of the bureau. He has not much pliability or affability, but, though attacked and denounced as corrupt and dishonest, I have never detected any obliquity or wrong in him. His sternness and uprightness disappointed the jobbers and the corrupt, and his unaffected manner has offended others. There is an intrigue to prevent his confirmation, in which very great rogues and some honest and good men are strangely mixed up, the last being the dupes, almost the willing victims, of the former.

Admiral Foote reported for duty on Thursday, but his rooms were not prepared, and I advised him, as he was yet lame and on crutches, to delay active duty for a month or so. It is some forty years since we were school-boys together in the quiet town of Cheshire, and it has been a pleasant opportunity to me to bring out the qualities of my early friend. He left yesterday for a few weeks.

Mr. Faxon, Chief Clerk, is absent, and I am somewhat embarrassed in relation to the true disposition of the clerical force. It seems not to have occurred to Admiral Foote that he could not appoint whom he pleased in his bureau, regardless of the claims and capabilities of older and more experienced clerks on less pay. I told him I wished him to have the selection of his chief or at least one confidential clerk, but that I could not displace old and worthy employees. This he said he did not wish, though he was, I think, a little disappointed.

Davis continues in command of the flotilla on the Mississippi. Had he captured the Arkansas, I would have had him come on immediately and take charge of the Bureau of Navigation.

In reorganizing the Navy under the late act, there were nine admirals to be appointed on the retired list. The names of nine were presented, but the Senate failed to confirm or act upon them. After the adjournment of Congress, commissions were sent them under executive appointment. Of course the men superseded were dissatisfied. Aulick was the first who called, complaining that injustice was done, and desiring to know wherein his record was defective and why he had been set aside. I told him that had it been the intention of Congress that the nine senior officers should be the admirals, the act would doubtless have so stated; that as regarded himself, while, personally, our relations had been pleasant if not intimate, he had not made himself known or felt by the Department or the Government in the hour of peril; that he had, just as the Rebellion commenced, applied for six months’ leave to visit Europe, on account of alleged illness of his daughter; that he left about the time of the assault on Sumter; that he remained abroad until notified that his leave would not be extended, and never had made a suggestion for the country, or expressed any sympathy for the cause. Under these circumstances I had felt justified in advising the President to omit his name. He said he had supposed it was other influences than mine which had done him this injustice, that we had been long and well acquainted. I told him I shunned no responsibility in the case, and yet it was due to candor to say that I never had heard a word in his behalf from any one.

Commodore Mervine writes me of his disappointment, feels hurt and slighted. By the advice of Paulding, chiefly, I gave the command of the Gulf Squadron to Mervine in the spring of 1861; but he proved an utter failure. He is not wanting in patriotism, but in executive and administrative ability; is quite as great on little things as on great ones. He was long in getting out to his station, and accomplished nothing after he got there. When I detached him and appointed McKean, he was indignant and applied for a court of inquiry; but I replied that we had not the time nor men to spare, that I had called him to promote the public interest, and recalled him for the same purpose. He is a man of correct deportment and habits, and in ordinary times would float along the stream with others, but such periods as these bring out the stronger points of an officer, if he has them. I had no personal, or political, or general, feeling against him, but as there were other officers of mark and merit superior to him, they were selected. Yet I felt there could not be otherwise than a sense of slight that must be felt by himself and friends, which I could not but regret. Yet any person with whom I consulted commended the course I pursued in regard to him.

Commodore Samuel Breese was a more marked case than Mervine’s, but of much the same character. Nothing good, nothing bad, in him as an officer. A gentleman of some scholarly pretensions, some literary acquirements, but not of much vigor of mind. Paulding was his junior, and the slight, as he conceived it, almost broke poor Breese’s heart. He came immediately to Washington, accompanied by his wife, a pleasant woman, and called on me, sad and heartsore, his pride wounded, his vanity humiliated to the dust. For three nights he assured me he had not closed his eyes; morning and evening the flag of Paulding was always before him. He said Read would not live long and implored that he might have the place.

Charles Stewart, first on the list and the oldest officer in the service, wrote, requesting the permission of the President to decline the appointment. It is a singular letter, and required a singular answer, which I sent him, leaving the subject in his hands.

The Advisory Board, which had to pass on subordinate active appointments, have completed their labors the past week. I am not altogether satisfied with their action, and perhaps should not be with any board, when so much was to be done, and so many men to pass under revision. The omission of Selfridge and Porter (W. D.) were perhaps the most marked cases, and the promotion of Fleming and Poor the most objectionable.

In the action of this board I have taken no part, but scrupulously abstained from any conversation with its members, directly or indirectly. I did say to Assistant Secretary Fox that I regretted the action in the case of the elder Selfridge and Walke, and I think he must have intimated these views in regard to W., for the action of the board was subsequently reversed. But I know not how this may have been.

Had a letter last evening from Lieutenant Budd, stating that he presented me with a chair rumored to have belonged to General Washington, which was captured on the Steamer Memphis, and asking me to accept it. Admiral Paulding had written me there was such a chair, which he had carried to his house, and asking what should be done with it. The chair was private property and sent by a lady to some one abroad, for friendly feeling to the Rebels. I sent word to Admiral P. that the captors could donate it or it might be sold with the other parts of the cargo. It is, I apprehend, of little intrinsic value. If it really belonged to Washington, it seemed to me impolitic to sell it at auction as a Rebel capture; if not Washington’s, there should be no humbug. My impressions were that it might be given to Admiral P. or to the Commandant’s House at the navy yard, and I am inclined to think I will let it take the latter course, at least for the present.

Governor Buckingham was here last week, and among other matters had in view the selection of Collectors and Assessors for our State. There was great competition. The State ticket was headed by Howard, and the Congress ticket headed by Goodman. While personally friendly to all, my convictions were for the State ticket, which was moreover much the ablest. The Secretary of the Treasury gave it the preference but made three alterations.

I met Senator Dixon the next day at the Executive Mansion, he having come on to Washington with express reference to these appointments. He has written me several letters indicating much caution, but I saw at once that he was strongly committed and exceedingly disappointed. He promised to see me again, but left that P.M. to get counter support.

Intelligence reaches us this evening that the Rebel ironclad ram Arkansas has been destroyed. We have also news of a fight yesterday on the Rapidan by forces under General Pope, the Rebels commanded by Stonewall Jackson.

Was told confidentially to-day that a treaty had been brought about between Thurlow Weed and Bennett of the Herald, after a bitterness of twenty years. A letter was read to me giving the particulars. Weed had word conveyed to Bennett that he would like to make up. Bennett thereupon invited Weed to Fort Washington. Weed was shy; sent word that he was engaged the evening named, which was untrue. Bennett then sent a second invitation, which was accepted; and Weed dined and stayed for the night at Fort Washington, and the Herald directly changed its tune.


[1] Captain, afterwards Rear-Admiral, John Rodgers.

Sunday, 10th—We had company inspection this morning. We received orders to sweep the camp twice a day from now on. Our new chaplain, Chauncey H. Remington, conducted preaching services in the evening on the regimental parade ground.

Sunday, August 10, 1862, 9:30 A. M. — Captain Drake and Gilmore’s Cavalry have returned. The infantry are bathing in Bluestone. The expedition was completely successful, and was of more importance than I supposed it would be. They reached the salt well about 2:30 A. M.; found the works in full blast — a good engine pumping, two pans thirty feet long boiling, etc., etc. The salt is good; considerable salt was on hand. All the works were destroyed by fire. A canoe found at Crump’s was taken to the ferry.

I spent an anxious night. Jackson, Major Comly’s scout, reported that the salt well was guarded. This came to me after was in bed and too late to send the word to the expedition. I anticipated trouble there and felt anxious enough. I slept little, was up often. But luckily all went well. Not a man was in sight. This morning, as they were returning, the cavalry were bushwhacked, horses wounded, clothes cut, but no man hurt.

Received a “secret” order to be ready to move on one-half hour’s notice. Rode post to the ferry; set the men to preparing for one of General Pope’s minute and practical inspections.

10th. Sunday. In the morning received a little treasure from Fannie at Richfield. Finished the story of the “Woman in White,” so well told. Like the style. Inspection at ten A. M. Our staff did not go. I went to the creek and bathed. Issued rations for five days. Delos came up from town and went with me to see Charlie. Had a good visit. Heard Will’s journal read. Received a good photograph of Will. Glad to get it. Chaplain preached in the evening, on the parade. Large numbers out to hear him. Good remarks, especially in reference to his visits at home. Enjoyed it.

Cedar Mountain, Va. Family group before the house in which Gen. Charles S. Winder (C.S.A.) died.

Cedar Mountain, Va. Family group before the house in which Gen. Charles S. Winder (C.S.A.) died

Cedar Mountain, Virginia. Photo taken by Timothy H. O’Sullivan.

Library of Congress image.

 

Charles Sidney Winder (October 18, 1829 – August 9, 1862), was a career United States Army officer and a Confederate general officer in the American Civil War. On August 9, 1862, Winder led his men into battle at Cedar Mountain, on the left flank of the Confederate line. He did so despite having been ill for several days, and in defiance of a surgeon’s order to rest. He was personally directing the fire of a battery when a Union shell struck him in his left side, horribly mangling him. Borne to the rear on a stretcher, Winder died later that evening.  (Wikipedia)