June 19.—Our cousin, Ann Eliza Field, was married to-day to George B. Bates at her home on Gibson Street. We went and had an elegant time. Charlie Wheeler made great fun and threw the final shower of rice as they drove away.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
JUNE 19TH.—To-day so many applications were made to the Secretary himself for passports to the armies, and beyond the lines of the Confederate States, that, forgetting the revocation of his former order, he sent a note into the Assistant Secretary, saying he thought a passport agent had been appointed to attend to such cases; and he now directed that it be done. Bledsoe came to me immediately, and said: “Jones, you’ll have to open a passport office again—I shall sign no more.”
June 19th.
Miriam and I have disgraced ourselves! This morning I was quietly hearing Dellie’s lessons, when I was startled by mother’s shrieks of “Send for a guard — they’ve murdered him!” I saw through the window a soldier sitting in the road just opposite, with blood streaming from his hand in a great pool in the dust. I was downstairs in three bounds, and, snatching up some water, ran to where he sat alone, not a creature near, though all the inhabitants of our side of the street were looking on from the balconies, all crying “Murder!” and “Help!” without moving themselves. I poured some water on the man’s bloody hand, as he held it streaming with gore up to me, saying, “The man in there did it,” meaning the one who keeps the little grog-shop, though it puzzled me at the time to see that all the doors were closed and not a face visible. I had hardly time to speak when Tiche called loudly to me to come away, —she was safe at the front gate, — and looking up, I found myself in a knot of a dozen soldiers, and took her advice and retreated home. It proved to be the guard Miriam had roused. She ran out as I did, and seeing a gentleman, begged him to call the guard for that murdered man. The individual — he must have been a “patriot” — said he didn’t know where to find one. She cried out they were at Heroman’s; he said he did n’t believe they were. “Go! I tell you!” she screamed at last; but the brave man said he did n’t like to, so she ran to the corner and called the soldiers herself. O most brave man! Before we got back from our several expeditions, we heard mother, Lilly, Mrs. Day, all shouting, “Bring in the children! lock the doors!” etc. All for a poor wounded soldier!
We after discovered that the man was drunk, and had cursed the woman of the grog-shop, whereupon her husband had pitched him out in the street, where they found him. They say he hurt his hand against a post; but wood could never have cut deep enough to shed all that gore. I don’t care if he was drunk or sober, soldier or officer, Federal or Confederate! If he had been Satan himself lying helpless and bleeding in the street, I would have gone to him! I can’t believe it was as criminal as though I had watched quietly from a distance, believing him dying and contenting myself with looking on. Yet it seems it was dreadfully indecorous; Miriam and I did very wrong; we should have shouted murder with the rest of the women and servants. Whereas the man who declined committing himself by calling one soldier to the rescue of another, supposed to be dying, acted most discreetly, and showed his wisdom in the most striking manner.
May I never be discreet, or wise, if this is Christian conduct, or a sample of either! I would rather be a rash, impetuous fool! Charlie says he would not open his mouth to save a dozen from being murdered. I say I am not Stoic enough for that. Lilly agrees with him, Miriam with me; so here we two culprits stand alone before the tribunal of “patriotism.” Madame Roland, I take the liberty of altering your words and cry, “O Patriotism! How many base deeds are sanctioned by your name!” Don’t I wish I was a heathen! In twenty-four hours the whole country will be down on us.
O for a pen to paint the slaves
Whose “country” like a deadly blight
Closes all hearts when Pity craves
And turns God’s spirit to darkest night!
May life’s patriotic cup for such
Be filled with glory overmuch;
And when their spirits go above in pride,
Spirit of Patriotism, let these valiant abide
Full in the sight of grand mass-meeting — I don’t
Want you to cuss them,
But put them where they can hear politics,
And yet can’t discuss them!
(I can’t say worse than that!)
Thursday, 19th—Drill is now all dispensed with on account of the hot weather. But the men are kept busy at fatigue and picket duty.
Camp Jones, Flat Top Mountain, June 19, 1862. Thursday. — Cold, dull, and P. M., rainy. Drilled A. M. Rode with Adjutant Avery and practiced pistol firing in the P. M.
Lieutenant-Colonel Paxton of the cavalry called to see me about Lieutenant Fordyce. Would he do for captain? Is he not too fond of liquor? My reply was favorable. He says he has three vacancies in the regiment. Captain Waller seduced Colonel Burgess’ daughter; had to resign in consequence. I recommended both Avery and Bottsford for captains of cavalry; both would make good captains. Only one will probably be commissioned. While I dislike to lose either, I feel they are entitled to promotion and are not likely to get it here.
19th. Thursday. Went to the Commissary as usual at 9 A. M. Archie got thrown from his horse. Wrote to Fannie. Went bathing with Nettleton and Brownell. Talked Minnie and Professor. Two letters. Home and Fannie.
Thursday, 19th.—Came orders for regimental baggage to be sent to Loudon. Not being able to go, was sent to hospital on College Hill.
(Note: picture is of an unidentified Confederate soldier.)
Headquarters 5th Prov. Army Corps,
Camp near New Bridge, June 19, 1862.
Dear Father, — . . . I do not have as much to do as I did before the two new aides came, but still General Porter gives me things to do. Yesterday he heard that the enemy had left the vicinity of New Bridge, and sent me down with an order to the battery there to fire 12 rounds at a work the enemy had erected in the woods opposite the bridge, and to see if they could not wake them (the enemy) up. We had erected a small earthwork there to protect our guns, and there I went. We fired about three rounds, when bang went one of their guns, and a shot flew whizzing over our heads. The officers told us to lie down in the trench, whenever we saw a gun fired, and kept a man on the watch, who called out “fire” when he saw a gun go off, and down we would all go. They fired splendidly at us, planting the shell in the battery and all around it. My horse was tied to a tree behind the battery, and I thought his chance of escaping was pretty small. I had to stay till the 12 shots were fired, to tell the general the result, and was glad when they were all fired. Our firing was indifferent. I waited till the enemy had fired two shots in succession, and then made a rush for my horse with a lieutenant from Weeden’s Battery whom I met there. It did not take us long to get out of range. The enemy were 1000 yards distant.
I had a narrower escape the other day than I thought for. The enemy’s infantry were near Mrs. Brockenborough’s house, and a body of their cavalry followed down soon after I went down that road, by Mrs. B.’s house. Then, too, I should have been shot by our own cavalry had they seen me in the woods, for they had orders to shoot any one they saw in the woods, no matter who he was. This was necessary as they were the outpost picket. I refer to the party I mistook for rebels.
Captain Mason is a very pleasant fellow, and I like him very much. He is always kind and polite to me.
I hope General McClellan will receive all the troops he wants. General McCall’s division has arrived, and is on this side of the river. It is under General Porter for the present. He and all his staff came near being captured by the rebel raid the other day.
General Franklin’s corps has passed over the river, and now we are the only corps on this side. . . .
All reports confirm the scarcity of food at Richmond. A darkey who came in this evening said that the rebels were conveying all their specie to Danville, N. C. They seem, however, afraid to trust it all in one place, and are pretty anxious about it.
Don’t place any confidence in newspaper reporters. They are all rascals.
From Library of Congress:
Title: Seven Pines, Va. Twin houses on battlefield, with 32-pdr. field howitzer in foreground.
(Note — the title description of the artillery piece is likely wrong. Please see first comment below.)
June 1862
Photographer: George N. Barnard
Photograph from the main eastern theater of war, the Peninsular Campaign
Civil War glass negative collection. Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division Washington, D.C. 20540 USA
Record page for this image: http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/cwp2003000069/PP/
June 19th. Returned from the works at 8 A. M. this morning, tired out, but in good spirits, as we indulged in a good deal of sport when the firing slacked. Had a good dinner, the sutler having finally found his way to camp. Lieutenant-Colonel Parisen returned from sick leave to-day, looking very well. We were all pleased to have him back with us.
McCall’s division, of Pennsylvania reserves, from McDowell’s army, joined to-day, and were placed in position near Mechanicsville.
