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

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Camp Hayes, Raleigh, Virginia, Friday, March 14, 1862.— A fine pleasant morning. About 11 A. M. Captain Gilmore of Company [C, First] Pennsylvania [Virginia] Cavalry, came in, saying, “My scouts sent out this morning have all been killed or captured”; two only returned. It turned out that eight cavalry patrols of his company, who left here about 8:30 A. M., this morning, were fired upon by a gang of men concealed in the woods about seven miles from here on the Princeton Road near Hunly’s. Two were killed, two wounded, one taken prisoner. One of the wounded men and two unhurt galloped into camp, having taken a circuitous route over the hills and through the woods. At this writing our loss is two killed and one taken prisoner.

I think the manner of this scouting or patrolling very objectionable. Six to ten men every morning about the same hour have been in the habit of riding out six to ten miles on this road. Nothing was easier than to lay an ambush for them. I suspect that the enemy fled instantly, that they are bushwhackers or militia. I sent out the whole cavalry company under Captain Gilmore and Companies B, H, and K, under Captain Drake, to get the bodies of the dead and the wounded man. Hunly is suspected to communicate intelligence to the enemy. None of these people are perfectly reliable. They will do what is necessary to protect their property.

Henderson, of Company H, taken prisoner last January, returned last night. He was exchanged and left Richmond February 23. He is called “Cleveland” by his company from the place of his enlistment. Others call him the “Pet Lamb,” from his delicate and youthful appearance. He is a quiet, observing, enterprising youngster; slender, sickly-looking, amiable; runs all risks, endures all hardships, and seems to enjoy it. A scout in fact, he is in constant danger of being taken for a spy. I must watch him. I suspect he is a genius. His father and mother died when he was a child.

New Madrid, “by Jingo;” March 14, 1863.

Charles Wright WillsNight before last we received four heavy guns from Cairo and two or three of these infantry regiments planted them during the night within a half mile of the enemy’s main fort and within three-fourths of a mile where their gunboats lay. The seceshers discovered it at daylight and then the fun commenced. Their gunboats and forts, about 30 or 40 pieces in all, put in their best licks all day. We had two regiments lying right in front of our guns to support them against a sortie, and several other regiments behind ready for a field fight The enemy kept in their works though and it was altogether an artillery fight. Our regiment was in the saddle all the a.m., but in the p.m. we lay around our quarters as usual with not a particle more of excitement perceptible than the quietest day in Cairo showed. In the evening the colonel and Major Case and myself went out in the country for our regular little mush, and milk, but that hasn’t anything to do with the story. The firing ceased about an hour after sunset and we turned in for the night with all quiet in camp. About 2 o’clock this morning three Rebel regiments made a little sortie with the intention of doing some devilment, but they ran against a field battery of ours that sent them back kiting. This morning the fort and town were found to be evacuated. I rode down, through what is left of the town, for the Rebels burned many houses to give their guns a better chance at the approaches, and cut down nearly all of the shade trees. There was not an inhabitant left in town, they all moved out before we came here, and every door was open. The Rebels I think plundered the town after the citizens left; anyway our boys grumbled a good deal about the people’s leaving nothing in their houses. They went away very badly scared and in an awful hurry, for there were tables with wine on, and cards and beds that had been used last night and blankets, and they left all their heavy artillery. They must have had all of their light artillery with the horses hitched to it and harnessed, and a lot of horses saddled and tied, for the halters cut with the ties left on the posts, showed that they were in too much of a hurry to untie. They also left all their tents, some 500, standing, most all of them as good as the best of ours, and barracks for several regiments, quarters in all for probably 10,000 men, the generals say, but I don’t think they will hold so many. I think we got 40 guns, 24’s and larger, besides some field pieces. We also get a big lot of amunition, lots of mules and wagons, and the boys are now fishing out of the river whole boxes of quartermaster’s goods—clothing, blankets, etc., that the secesh rolled in as they ran. The general is better satisfied than if he had taken them prisoners. Coming back from the town and fort I rode over the ground where the balls lit thickest yesterday. They had scratched things around considerably—barked trees, knocked fences, busted a house or two, plowed ground like everything, and by the way, knocked six of our men for keeps, and wounded horribly about 15 more. That was all that was done yesterday. ‘Tis astonishing that no more of our men were killed but you must recollect that these infantrymen that were supporting our batteries lay in trenches and were all killed while well covered, comparatively. One ball struck square in the trench and relieved one man of two legs and another man of one. I saw one man who had been struck by a falling 25-pound solid shot in the centre of his breast and went down and out at the small of his back. That was a pretty hard sight. While they were firing the hottest our boys would jump on their little dirt piles in front of the rifle pits and trenches and swing their hats and cheer and drop back into their ditches very rapidly. A shell 18 pounds fell about 20 feet in front of the ditches, and a boy of 12 or 14 years jumped out and grabbed it up while the fuse was still burning. A soldier saw it and hollered at him to drop it and scoot, but he hadn’t time to get away, so he dropped it and threw himself flat with his feet toward it and almost then it burst, but harmlessly. Well, we’ve got Madrid and enough to pay us for our trouble. I think that our loss will be covered by 20 killed and 35 or 40 wounded in the whole two weeks. That’s a large estimate. What the next move will be have no idea, but some say that we’ll cross the river and operate with Grant in a southerly direction of course. I’d rather be in this down-the-river movement than any other part of the army. Have thought so ever since I joined the army. This cavalry business is bully. We have all the running around and fun and little skirmishing without much of the heavy work and tall fighting. The loss of the enemy we don’t know but there are about 40 fresh graves at the fort and we found several dead bodies there this morning. Also found a half dozen men that were left by some means.

March 14th.—Thank God for a ship! It has run the blockade with arms and ammunition.

There are no negro sexual relations half so shocking as Mormonism. And yet the United States Government makes no bones of receiving Mormons into its sacred heart. Mr. Venable said England held her hand over “the malignant and the turbaned Turk ” to save and protect him, slaves, seraglio, and all. But she rolls up the whites of her eyes at us when slavery, bad as it is, is stepping out into freedom every moment through Christian civilization. They do not grudge the Turk even his bag and Bosphorus privileges. To a recalcitrant wife it is, “Here yawns the sack; there rolls the sea,” etc. And France, the bold, the brave, the ever free, she has not been so tender-footed in Algiers. But then the “you are another” argument is a shabby one. “You see,” says Mary Preston sagaciously, “we are white Christian descendants of Huguenots and Cavaliers, and they expect of us different conduct.”

Went in Mrs. Preston’s landau to bring my boardingschool girls here to dine. At my door met J. F., who wanted me then and there to promise to help him with his commission or put him in the way of one. At the carriage steps I was handed in by Gus Smith, who wants his brother made commissary. The beauty of it all is they think I have some influence, and I have not a particle. The subject of Mr. Chesnut’s military affairs, promotions, etc., is never mentioned by me.

March 14.—An order was unanimously adopted, in the Massachusetts House to-day, authorizing the construction of one or two iron-clad steamers, on the plan of Ericsson’s Monitor, for the protection of the harbors of the State.

—Gen. Stoneman, Chief of Cavalry, with a force of about fifteen hundred cavalry and eight hundred infantry, made a reconnoissance this day, extending from Manassas up the Orange and Alexandria Railroad to Cedar Run. At that point they came across the rebel pickets, whom they drove over the run to a large force of the insurgents, who made no attempt to follow Gen. S., on his return toward Manassas. The rebels had burnt the Cedar Run bridge, and the bridge at Bristow, but not otherwise injured the railroad. The roads travelled over by the reconnoitring force were found strewed with hats, caps, muskets, blankets, ammunition, knapsacks, broken and abandoned loaded wagons, etc., confirming all other evidence that the retreat of the rebels was made under a panic.—(Doc. 92.)

—Early this morning, after several days’ skirmishing, and a number of attempts, by the rebel gunboats, to dislodge Gen. Pope, at Point Pleasant, Mo., the rebels evacuated their works at New-Madrid, leaving all their artillery, field-batteries, wagons, mules, and an immense quantity of other property of the greatest value. The rebels abandoned their works so hurriedly as to leave all the baggage of the officers, and knapsacks of the men, behind. Their dead were unburied. Their suppers were on their tables, and their candles were burning in their tents. The operations of Gen. Pope’s army, which led to the evacuation, were as follows: A heavy battery was established during the night of the twelfth inst, within eight hundred yards of the enemy’s works, and opened fire at daylight on the thirteenth inst. During the whole day the National lines were drawn closer around the works of the enemy, under a furious fire of sixty pieces of artillery, and the fear of an assault upon their works at daylight induced them to flee during the night. Many prisoners were taken, and the colors of several Arkansas regiments. The National loss during the siege was about fifty killed and wounded.—(Doc. 93.)

—Gen. McClellan issued a brief, spirited, and most telling address to the Army of the Potomac. He tells his troops, and through them the people, the purpose of their inaction. They were to be disciplined, armed and instructed, and the formidable artillery they now have created, and other armies were to move on and accomplish certain results, in order that the Army of the Potomac might give the death-blow to the rebellion. These preliminary results are now accomplished, and the Army of the Potomac is pronounced a real army—”magnificent in material, admirable in discipline and instruction, excellently equipped and armed,” with commanders all that the General-in-Chief could wish. The period of inaction is passed, and the General promises to place his troops face to face with the rebels. He will gain success with the least possible loss, but does not disguise the fact that they have brave foes to meet. Further, he says that he will demand of the army heroic exertions, rapid and long marches, desperate combats and privations: The patience they have shown is wonderful, and their confidence in their General is unbounded. He trusts in them to save their country.—(Doc. 94.)

—The battle of Newbern, North-Carolina, was fought this day between a combined land and naval force of the United States under Gen. Burnside and Commodore Goldsborough, and a rebel force under the command of Gen. Lawrence O’B. Branch.

Day before yesterday, the National fleet left Roanoke Island, and entering the mouth of the Neuse River, landed the troops under cover of the gunboats yesterday morning at Slocum’s Creek. The men then marched some twelve miles up the river, and bivouacked for the night on the railroad, while the gunboats proceeded further up, and shelled a rebel battery.

This morning the march was again resumed, and the troops had proceeded but a short distance when the rebels were discovered. Their works consisted of a series of strong batteries, extending over a distance of two miles, and defended by about ten thousand men, with twenty-one guns in position, besides a formidable array of field artillery. The batteries of the enemy were taken one after the other—the last and most formidable one, where the rebels had concentrated their whole strength, by a gallant bayonet-charge, in which the Massachusetts Twenty-first and the Pennsylvania Fifty-first figured conspicuously. The rebels then fled across the Trent River, destroying the bridges behind them, and having a sufficiency of cars at hand, made their escape in the direction of Goldsborough, leaving everything behind them, and about three hundred of their number as prisoners. They attempted to burn the town of Newborn before leaving it, but succeeded in doing very little damage, the citizens extinguishing the fires as fast as kindled. The Neuse River was obstructed by sunken vessels and chevaux-de-frise, which interfered with the operations of the gunboats. The rebels also had scows filled with tar and turpentine, at Newbern, to send down the river to burn the fleet, but the tide did not serve them as they desired, and the project failed. The National troops captured three light batteries of field-artillery, forty-six heavy siege-guns, large stores of fixed ammunition, and three thousand stand of small arms, and among the prisoners were one colonel, three captains and four lieutenants. They left a number of dead on the field, but as they carried off a large part of their dead and wounded, their loss cannot be known. The National loss is from ninety to one hundred killed, and about four hundred wounded.—(Doc. 95.)