Sunday, April 10.—Mrs. Newsom’s sister is here, and we had a hearty laugh at dinner, as I told them it was an extra one. Our corn-bread had in it lard, soda, and a whole egg. Mrs. Newsom told us of a friend of hers, now living in Marietta, who could scarcely get enough of corn meal for herself and children.
Friday, April 10, 2015
On picket, Raleigh road, three miles from Nahanta
Station, on Weldon and Goldsboro railroad,
April 10, 1865.
Our division moved north to-day along the Weldon railroad to Nahanta, where we crossed and took a main Raleigh road. Our 1st brigade had the advance and had light skirmishing all day. Wheeler’s cavalry is opposing us. Our regiment is on picket to-night, and the enemy shot a little at us before dark, but all is quiet just now. Passed through a very fine country to-day. It has rained all day. Some cannonading on our left. I think the whole army moved to-day. The 20th corps passed us near town this morning in exactly opposite direction to ours. The whole army, mules, wagons, bummers and generals have come out new from Goldsboro. The whole machine looks as nicely as an army can look. Our 1st brigade took a swamp crossing from the enemy to-day, that our brigade could hold against a corps. A bullet passed miserably near to me as I was arranging our picket line this evening.
April 10th.—Raining. I was startled in bed by the sound of cannon from the new southside fort again. I suppose another hundred guns were fired; and I learn this morning that the Federals declare, and most people believe, that Lee has really surrendered his army—if not indeed all the armies.
My Diary is surely drawing to a close, and I feel as one about to take leave of some old familiar associate. A habit is to be discontinued—and that is no trifling thing to one of my age. But I may find sufficient employment in revising, correcting, etc. what I have written. I never supposed it would end in this way.
Ten A.M. It is true! Yesterday Gen. Lee surrendered the “Army of Northern Virginia.” His son, Custis Lee, and other generals, had surrendered a few days previously. The men are paroled by regimental commanders, from the muster rolls, and are permitted to return to their homes and remain undisturbed until exchanged. The officers to take their side-arms and baggage to their homes, on the same conditions, etc. There were 290 pieces of artillery belonging to this army a few weeks ago. This army was the pride, the hope, the prop of the Confederate cause, and numbered, I believe, on the rolls, 120,000 men. All is lost! No head can be made by any other general or army—if indeed any other army remains. If Mr. Davis had been present, he never would have consented to it; and I doubt if he will ever forgive Gen. Lee.
Monday, 10th—Had an all-day rain. The entire army moved forward today, some starting at 8 a. m. We packed our knapsacks early this morning, but did not start until 10 o’clock. While we were waiting, some of the Twenty-fourth Iowa Regiment which had arrived at Goldsboro came over to our “ranches” for a visit. We boys had a visit from Homer Curtis of Company C, Twenty-fourth Iowa. We marched ten miles today. The Fifteenth and Seventeenth Corps form the right wing, the Twenty-third Corps, in command of General Schofield, the center, and the Fourteenth and Twentieth Corps form the left wing. Some heavy cannonading off on the left.
10th. Camped last night side by side with Lee’s army. A great jubilee among the boys. Soon after sunrise moved out. Sheridan passed us. Cheered him as he passed. Camped at Prospect Station.
Charles Francis Adams, Jr., to his father
H.Q. 5th Mass. Cav’y, Sutherland St., near
Petersburg, April 10, 1865
Grant’s great movement was already under way and General Weitzel, to whom I reported, ordered me to get out to the front with no delay. The regiment was unarmed, lumbered up with surplus baggage and all disorganized by the rapid move from an old, permanent camp. Arms were to be drawn, stores turned in and the regiment forced to the front in a moment. To add to the trouble it rained incessantly all the two next days — bad enough for me; but that was nothing compared with the anxiety we all felt for the jeopardy in which the grand movement was placed. Thoroughly wet and knee deep in mud the work went on somehow and every official gave us all possible aid. Wagons, animals and arms were procured somehow. I went out to the front and selected a camp and the morning after I landed sent out one battalion. Friday noon it cleared away.
Meanwhile confusion in affairs regimental had become worse confounded and it needed all the head I had to keep things straight at all; but keeping cool and the assistance of first rate officers brought things round and Friday evening, having got ten companies sent forward, I broke up the receiving camp and moved out to the front. Here, in the deserted camp of the 1st N.Y. I found myself very comfortable on Saturday night, and the next evening the balance of the regiment arrived, and once more we were all together. I now found myself in command of all the Cavalry detachments north of the James — some two thousand men in all, of whom about 1000 were mounted. All Sunday reports of Grant’s successes were coming in and we were anxious and expectant. I felt sure that Richmond would be abandoned as Atlanta had been, but Generals Weitzel and Devens treated my suggestion to that effect so lightly that they quite put me out of conceit with it. However, the day, bright and warm, passed away and at night orders came to be ready to move at a moment’s notice. The miscellaneous Brigade of which I had charge was the hardest body to handle of which I had any experience, being made up of all sorts of detachments and being without any staff or organization. I went to bed anxious, weary and disgusted enough.
At dawn I received a dispatch from my picket line that the enemy was not to be seen, and immediately after an order to move my command to the Darbytown road “and there await further orders.” Then came vexations, for, without a staff, I had to get a column in motion. At seven o’clock, after fretting, fuming and chafing for an hour, I had the satisfaction of getting in motion at last. I had about one thousand mounted men and a battery. I got out to the Darbytown road, and by this time heavy explosions were heard towards Richmond, like the sound of heavy, distant fighting. Finding the enemy’s lines deserted and no orders coming I concluded something was up and it was best to push ahead; so we went through the lines and took the Richmond road. Then came an exciting march, not without vexations; but nine o’clock found me in the suburbs of Richmond. Of my march through the city I have written the details to John and he will doubtless forward the letter to you. I am still confounded at the good fortune which brought me there. To have led my regiment into Richmond at the moment of its capture is the one event which I should most have desired as the culmination of my life in the Army. That honor has been mine and now I feel as if my record in this war was rounded and completely filled out.
Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday we lay near Richmond picketing all the roads. My impressions of the city and its people I sent to John; but I also had to ride round a portion of the line of defences, crossing the celebrated Chickahominy swamp and visiting the scene of McClellan’s old operations. The rebel earthworks are the strongest I ever saw and the city is wonderfully defensible. There, at last, however were those works, the guns still mounted and unspiked, with the ammunition beside them, taken at last without the loss of a man, flanked by great marches in Georgia.
Thursday afternoon I was surprised by an order to report with my regiment to General Hartsuff in Petersburg. I called in my pickets and made a moonlight flitting, leaving my camp at midnight. The regiment marched through Richmond at ten o’clock and found that conquered city quiet and silent as a graveyard. I believe I saw but one living being in the streets — a single sentry on his beat and I did not hear a sound. In fact all through the occupation the behavior of our Army has been wonderful. I have not seen or heard of any riot, blood-shed or violence. Of drunkenness there necessarily was a great deal; for, with an insane idea of propitiating our soldiers, the citizens actually forced liquor on them in the streets; but now those two cities are as quiet and orderly as any cities of the North. As for the usual scenes which have accompanied such captures abroad, there were absolutely none of them.
We found the slaves and the poor whites pillaging freely, but that was put a stop to and the soldiers, so far as I could see, behaved admirably. I got to Petersburg at nine o’clock and reported to General Hartsuff. He gave me until next morning to get the regiment together and rest it, and then sent me out here to cover the South Side Railroad.
Here I am on classic ground and see a good deal of the inhabitants. The rumor today is that Lee has surrendered. If this is so the fighting is over. Johnston must follow suit and there will hardly be another skirmish. Even if the rumor is false, however, I am persuaded the war is really over. For the first time I see the spirit of the Virginians, since these last two battles, completely broken; the whole people are cowed —whipped out. Every one is now taking the oath of allegiance. By the first of June you will not be able in these parts to find any confederates. The war is really over. These indications are new to me. In all former times these people might be broken, but they would not bend. Now they cower right down before us.
My present line runs right through both camps of the two armies. It is a curious region of desolation. I have ridden all through it and it seems to have been swept with the besom of destruction. All landmarks are defaced, not only trees and fences, but even the houses and roads. It is one broad tract, far as the eye can reach, dotted here and there with clumps of trees which mark the spot where some Head Quarters stood, and for the rest covered with a thick stubble of stumps of the pine. You ride through mile after mile of deserted huts, marking the encampments of armies, and over roads now leading from nowhere, nowhither. Large houses are gone so that even their foundations can no longer be discovered. Forts, rifle-pits and abattis spring up in every direction, and in front of Petersburg the whole soil is actually burrowed and furrowed beyond the power of words to describe. There it all is, freshly deserted and as silent as death; but it will be years and years before the scars of war disappear from this soil, for nature must bring forth new trees and a new race of men must erect other habitations.
So much for my experiences, so far in the most interesting bit of campaigning it has yet been my fate to take part in. As you will imagine I have been and am happy and contented enough. This continual change and movement, without the crush and drive of a fierce campaign, is most delightful. It is also most fortunate; for to have been forced into the field at once would have utterly ruined my regiment. As it is, it has now an excellent chance. In a word, my usual good fortune has accompanied me. I seem once more to have landed on my feet in just the right moment and at just the right place. . . .
April 10th. The firing of heavy field guns at midnight aroused everybody. Great rejoicing when we learned that General Lee has surrendered to our Grant. Crowds of people began to come to town very early to hear the latest news. It was hard for some to believe it. We hope the four years of struggling with death and destruction are at an end. As the people returned to their homes, informed me that they would again have an open road, and not be stopped to answer questions and show a pass. They won’t be any more pleased about it than these same soldiers who are very anxious to return to our homes in Yankee land. This is a fine country. We are happy over the prospects that the war is coming to an end. Passed a very pleasant time in charge of the picket post, out on the Tuscaror road.
Chattanooga, Monday, April 10. Wet and muddy day, but no one knew it for we had such good news. 11 A. M. a bit of paper no bigger than my hands was distributed with the words
“Lee has surrendered his army on terms which I dictated.”
U. S. Grant.
It was enough.
1 P. M. the cannons spoke in thunder tones. Two hundred guns fired in rapid succession, around us on all sides, which mingled with the huzzahs of troops, reminded me very forcibly of more stirring scenes which I have witnessed. God grant that we may know no more such. How the thought of peace; and tranquility throbs in each soldier’s breast when he thinks of the home and associates he left so reluctantly to follow the path of duty, soon to be restored to him. No wonder his spirits should be exuberant, aye, even intoxicated with delight. But pen and paper is altogether too tame on such occasions. I’ll write no more.
Monday, April 10. — “Whether I am in the body, or out of the body, I know not, but one thing I know,” Lee has surrendered! and all the people seem crazy in consequence. The bells are ringing, boys and girls, men and women are running through the streets wild with excitement; the flags are all flying, one from the top of our church, and such a “hurrah boys” generally, I never dreamed of. We were quietly eating our breakfast this morning about 7 o’clock, when our church bell commenced to ring, then the Methodist bell, and now all the bells in town are ringing. Mr. Noah T. Clarke ran by, all excitement, and I don’t believe he knows where he is. No school to-day. I saw Capt. Aldrich passing, so I rushed to the window and he waved his hat. I raised the window and asked him what was the matter? He came to the front door where I met him and he almost shook my hand off and said, “The war is over. We have Lee’s surrender, with his own name signed.” I am going down town now, to see for myself, what is going on. Later—I have returned and I never saw such performances in my life. Every man has a bell or a horn, and every girl a flag and a little bell, and every one is tied with red, white and blue ribbons. I am going down town again now, with my flag in one hand and bell in the other and make all the noise I can. Mr. Noah T. Clarke and other leading citizens are riding around on a dray cart with great bells in their hands ringing them as hard as they can. Dr. Cook beat upon an old gong. The latest musical instrument invented is called the “Jerusalem fiddle.” Some boys put a dry goods box upon a cart, put some rosin on the edge of the box and pulled a piece of timber back and forth across it, making most unearthly sounds. They drove through all the streets, Ed Lampman riding on the horse and driving it.
Monday evening, April 10.—I have been out walking for the last hour and a half, looking at the brilliant illuminations, transparencies and everything else and I don’t believe I was ever so tired in my life. The bells have not stopped ringing more than five minutes all day and every one is glad to see Canandaigua startled out of its propriety for once. Every yard of red, white and blue ribbon in the stores has been sold, also every candle and every flag. One society worked hard all the afternoon making transparencies and then there were no candles to put in to light them, but they will be ready for the next celebration when peace is proclaimed. The Court House, Atwater Block, and hotel have about two dozen candles in each window throughout, besides flags and mottoes of every description. It is certainly the best impromptu display ever gotten up in this town. “Victory is Grant-ed,” is in large red, white and blue letters in front of Atwater Block. The speeches on the square this morning were all very good. Dr. Daggett commenced with prayer, and such a prayer, I wish all could have heard it. Hon. Francis Granger, E. G. Lapham, Judge Smith, Alexander Howell, Noah T. Clarke and others made speeches and we sang “Old Hundred” in conclusion, and Rev. Dr. Hibbard dismissed us with the benediction. I shook hands with Mr. Noah T. Clarke, but he told me to be careful and not hurt him, for he blistered his hands to-day ringing that bell. He says he is going to keep the bell for his grandchildren. Between the speeches on the square this morning a song was called for and Gus Coleman mounted the steps and started “John Brown” and all the assenibly joined in the chorus, “Glory, Hallelujah.” This has been a never to be forgotten day.
Cumberland, Maryland, April 10, 1865.
Dear Judge: — I am told that my application for leave has come back without approval. I am sending it again today. At this rate it will be ten days before I see it again. The War Department wants to know my business. They mustn’t be too crotchety or I’ll get naughty on their hands.
I hope this cruel war is over. I shall resign probably in about six weeks.
Sincerely,
R. B. Hayes.
[Judge William Johnston (?),
Washington.]
