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

Friday, July 25, 2014

Monday, July 25. — This morning weather cleared off, and we prepared for our review. Had dress-parade.

Monday, July 25th.

We were to-day ordered back to the Second Corps, but, upon the representation of Capt. Mendall of the Engineers, the order was countermanded.

25th. Monday. Waited till 10 o’clock and saw John off Started for home. We envy him. Would we could go too. Got home about noon. In the evening marched to left of the army and relieved a brigade of the 2nd Div. on picket. Our regiment on the right of the brigade.

July 25th.—Now we are in a cottage rented from Doctor Chisolm. Hood is a full general. Johnston[1] has been removed and superseded. Early is threatening Washington City. Semmes, of whom we have been so proud, risked the Alabama in a sort of duel of ships. He has lowered the flag of the famous Alabama to the Kearsarge.[2] Forgive who may! I can not. We moved into this house on the 20th of July. My husband was telegraphed to go to Charleston. General Jones sent for him. A part of his command is on the coast.

The girls were at my house. Everything was in the utmost confusion. We were lying on a pile of mattresses in one of the front rooms while the servants were reducing things to order in the rear. All the papers are down on the President for this change of commanders except the Georgia papers. Indeed, Governor Brown’s constant complaints, I dare say, caused it—these and the rage of the Georgia people as Johnston backed down on them.

Isabella soon came. She said she saw the Preston sisters pass her house, and as they turned the corner there was a loud and bitter cry. It seemed to come from the Hampton house. Both girls began to run at full speed. “What is the matter?” asked Mrs. Martin. “Mother, listen; that sounded like the cry of a broken heart,” said Isabella; “something has gone terribly wrong at the Prestons’.”

Mrs. Martin is deaf, however, so she heard nothing and thought Isabella fanciful. Isabella hurried over there, and learned that they had come to tell Mrs. Preston that Willie was killed—Willie! his mother’s darling. No country ever had a braver soldier, a truer gentleman, to lay down his life in her cause.


[1] General Johnston in 1863 had been appointed to command the Army of the Tennessee, with headquarters at Dalton, Georgia. He was to oppose the advance of Sherman’s army toward Atlanta. In May, 1864, he fought unsuccessful battles at Resaca and elsewhere, and in July was compelled to retreat across the Chattahoochee River. Fault was found with him because of his continual retreating. There were tremendous odds against him. On July 17th he was superseded by Hood.

[2] Raphael Semmes was a native of Maryland and had served in the Mexican War. The Alabama was built for the Confederate States at Birkenhead, England, and with an English crew and English equipment was commanded by Semmes. In 1863 and 1864 the Alabama destroyed much Federal shipping. On June 19, 1864, she was sunk by the Federal ship Kearsarge in a battle off Cherbourg. Claims against England for damages were made by the United States, and as a result, the Geneva Arbitration Court was created. Claims amounting to $15,500,000 were finally awarded. This case has much importance in the history of international law.

July 25.—Heavy fighting is reported at the front. Drs. Henderson, Devine, and Reesse are on their way there. Dr. H. has spent the week at the Gamble Hospital with Dr. Wildman. Dr. W. is an Englishman. Last Monday our surgeons made up their minds that Dr. Henderson had been sent here by Dr. Foard to “spy out the nakedness of the land.” It was in vain I protested that I believed such was not the case. In going into the wards I found the nurses all busy, getting ready for the great inspector, as they called him. I did not try to undeceive them, as I knew the wards could not be injured by a little extra cleanliness. The next day the nurses were sadly disappointed, as no inspector had been round to see how nicely they had put on their comforts and set their little bottles in military array.

July 25th. Bunker Hill. A very severe rain storm set in last night. We are wet through. Orders to march on to Martinsburg. My feet keep me reminded of the rough roads, stubs and briers in the lots. We reach Martinsburg after a march of ten miles. After holding the enemy in check for a while we are again on the march. I picked up a pair of old boots, no doubt discarded by some cavalryman. They were much too large for me, and not having stockings I could not wear them as they galled my feet, making them worse. Was obliged to throw them away.

After a very tedious march we reached Williamsport on the Potomac River, twenty miles from Bunker Hill. Will remain here for the night. Foot-sore, weary, glad to lie down for the night on the wet ground for rest and sleep. Often wonder how the men can keep so patient. Sometimes we are made to feel that much of our trouble is brought on to us by jealousy and mismanagement on the part of our officers high up in rank. Our boys are always ready for any kind of duty. We have made marches over this Williamsport Pike before. Like all the pikes it is hard marching over the rough stones, up and down hill. That’s our experience.

July 25 — We had preaching in camp this evening at early candlelight. Text, “Behold I stand at the door and knock.”

July 25, 1864.

We moved up to the rear of the corps on the 21, and had just got comfortably fixed for the night when orders came that we should report back to the brigade on the front line. Just as we started a heavy rain set in, and continued while we marched one and one-half miles to the left, where we stacked arms in rear of a line of work occupied by the 6th Iowa. The Rebel line lay in plain sight, just across an open field, and the bullets made us keep pretty close.

At sunset we were ordered to extend, or rather build a line of works to hold our regiment, between the 6th Iowa and 40th Illinois. We had fairly commenced, and the boys were scattered everywhere, bringing rails, logs, etc., when the Johnnie’s bugle sounded “forward,” and the Rebels raised a yell and fired a couple of volleys into us. There was a lively rush for our guns, but we saw through it in a minute, and in three minutes were at work again. Only two men were hurt in the regiment, one from Company C, and Wm. Nicholson of my company had the small bone of his leg broken just above the ankle. We got our works in shape about daylight, and about 8 a.m. I heard a cheer from our skirmishers, and saw the Rebel skirmishers run right over their works like deer. Our line followed them and took possession of their works, and no Rebel or works being in sight, and our boys knowing they were only two miles from Atlanta, thought sure they had the town, and all started on the “double quick” for it, yelling, “potatoes” or “tobacco,” or what he particularly hankered for. They got along swimmingly until within about three-quarters of a mile from town, when they ran against a strong line of works and were brought up standing, by a volley therefrom. They deployed immediately, and by the time their officers got up had a good line established, and were whacking away at the fort apparently as well satisfied as if they had got their tobaco.

McPherson had an idea that all was not right, for our line was allowed to advance no further than the one the Rebels had left, and we were set to work changing its front. At dinner when we were about leaving “the table,” Captain Smith mentioned hearing some heavy skirmishing in our rear as we came to our meal. That was the first any of us knew of the battle. In a few minutes we all heard it plainly, and from our works could see exactly in our rear a body of grey coats, advance from a wood and the battle opened, although we did not know what troops of ours were engaged. Have since heard it was a portion of the 16th Corps who were moving out to extend the line. Their being just in that position was a piece of luck, as it saved the trains of the Army of the Tennessee, and, perhaps, the whole army. I should think they fought an hour before the battle swung around toward us. During the battle, our regiment changed position three times, facing east, west and south. We helped repulse four charges, took 115 prisoners, and helped take 400 more. Also ran the enemy out of a line of works they had taken from our 3d brigade, and the best of it is, we lost only ten men. I cannot for my life see how we escaped so well. General Blair is reported to have said that the Army of the Tennessee is eternally disgraced for going outside of all precedent, in refusing to be whipped when attacked in flank and rear, as well as in front. Hood confines his strategy to maneuvering troops for battle, and pretends to be emphatically a “fighting cock.” He attacked Thomas on the 20th and 21st, away on the right, and on the 22d walked into us. He got his comb badly cut, and if I am any prophet at all, will not attempt another fight soon. Sherman estimates the enemy’s loss in the three days’ fighting at 12,000. Our loss in the same time is less than 3,500. I am surprised that we have not attacked them in return before this, but am far from anxious to charge their works. Although I do know that if we charge with two lines as good as our brigade, and don’t go too fast, we can take any ordinary works. The prisoners we got the other day were run down. When our regiment drove the Rebels out of the works of the 3d brigade, a man shot through the thigh, asked me for water as I passed him. I asked him if the Rebels robbed him, he said, no, but they killed a man in the ditch with a spade right in front of him. I looked where he pointed and found a 97th Indiana boy with his thigh broken by a pistol shot, and three cuts in his face by a spade. He was not dead, he knew me, and reached out his hand smiling. He said an officer rode up with some footmen and told him to surrender, when he shot the officer and ran his bayonet through one of the men. Another shot him, and the man he bayoneted used the spade on him. McPherson was killed early in the fight. The Rebels had his body a few minutes, but the 16th Corps charged and retook it. Altogether, it was the prettiest fight I ever saw.

The Rebel plan of attack was excellent, and if their assaulting columns had charged simultaneously, there is no telling what might have been the upshot. As it was, part of 17th Corps changed position in their breastworks three times, that is, repulsed an assault from one side, and being attacked from the rear, jumped over and fought them the other way. I was up to where the 20th and 31st Illinois fought. The dead Rebels lay about as thick on one side of the works as the other, and right up to them. Two more fights like this, and there will be no more Rebel army here. We lost about 600 prisoners, and took 2,000.

Garrard’s cavalry division went out to Covington on the Augusta road. Am just going on picket.

Thursday (21st), marched to near Snickers Ford. Camped near Colonel Ware’s. Fifteen miles. The next day, marched to Winchester. A fine town before the war. Eleven and one-half miles. Saturday (23d), enemy reported in force approaching Winchester. Skirmished all day. Small force of Rebel cavalry fool ours. Seven miles. Sunday (24th), defeated badly at Winchester near Kernstown by Early with a superior force. My brigade suffered severely. Rebels came in on my left. Poor cavalry allowed the general to be surprised. Seven miles. All [that] night marching, twenty-two miles, to Martinsburg. My brigade covered the retreat. Retreated from Martinsburg; turned on Rebels and drove them out. Monday night to Potomac at Williamsport, [Maryland], twelve miles, a severe, sleepy job. Camped on Antietam near battle-ground.

July 25—Left Point Lookout at 8 o’clock this evening in the frigate Victor for New York. There are 700 prisoners on board.