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

July 2012

July 7.—The steamer Emilie, formerly the Wm. Seabrook, of Charleston, S. C, was captured off Bull’s Bay, S. C, by the United States steamer Flag and the bark Restless.—At New Orleans, La., the system of distributions and sales of provisions to the poor of that city went into operation.—The Anglo-rebel steamer Adela was captured off Abaco, by the National gunboat Quaker City.—Official Reports.

—The Common Council of Buffalo, N. Y., appropriated eighty thousand dollars for the purpose of raising a new regiment, giving seventy-five dollars bounty for each recruit.—Gen. Burnside’s army arrived in the James River, Va.

—The battle of the Cache, Ark., was fought this day by the National forces, under Col. C. E. Hovey, and over two thousand rebel troops, commanded by Albert Rust, resulting in the defeat and rout of the latter with a severe loss.—(Doc. 82.)

JULY 6TH.—Thousands of fathers, brothers, mothers, and sisters of the wounded are arriving in the city to attend their suffering relations, and to recover the remains of those who were slain.

Sunday, 6th—It is very hot today. We had company inspection this morning. No news of importance.

Camp Jones, Flat Top Mountain, July 6, 1862. Sunday. — . . . It seems on reflection that McClellan has been forced back in seven days — six of them days of fighting — about fifteen to twenty-five miles; that he has probably not lost very heavily in artillery or stores; that the weight of the attacks on him have [has] been too heavy and have [has] forced him back. Well, then, our columns must be rapidly made heavier. We shall see!

. . . Nothing new from Richmond today. What is the condition there? Is our army merely pushed back by superior numbers or has it been defeated?

6th. Sunday. Overslept and wakened at “forward.” Hurried along. Rode a little obstinate pony. Passed the other brigade and encamped at two miles distant. Saw some Confederate papers, very neat. Warmest day of the season. Bathed in Grand River. Wrote a little, read two or three chapters in Philippians. I wish it were easier to be good, or rather I wish I were a better boy and doing some good.

July 6th. I was present at an interesting conversation between General French and Zook, regarding the campaign just closed. Both of them admitted it had been a complete failure, in spite of the gallant and meritorious conduct of the troops. From the time the army first started for Manassas, until the second day of July, its movements, except in retreat, have been timid, vacillating, and indecisive. In no instance has it initiated the fighting, although organized for that purpose. When attacked, it has shown itself capable of great deeds, and has invariably succeeded in defeating its opponent, but never was allowed to take advantage of the fact. Upon landing before Yorktown, that stronghold could, as is well known now, have been captured by a coup-de-main, with almost no loss, the enemy being in small force, and wholly unprepared for defence. That plan, however, never seems to have occurred to the general commanding, his brain being filled with the idea of a great siege, like Sebastopol, in the Crimea. Having decided on the siege, everything else was neglected and the slow, laborious operation of digging entrenchments, and erecting batteries went along just as in the sieges of the Middle Ages, every one taking his time, and only careful to do things regularly. When the enemy evacuated the place, through lack of alertness on our part, they were able to move everything of value, and make an orderly and secure retreat, not a single wagon being abandoned. The advance and operations at Williamsburg were of the most perfunctory order, ill advised, indifferently carried out, and wholly without result. While the general commanding ostensibly undertook to cut off part of the enemy’s force at West Point, or near there, the movements of the Army of the Potomac were so sluggish that the enemy easily got out of the way. Our army met with no resistance on the advance to West Point, and yet was nearly ten days in getting there. The advance from the White House to the Chickahominy was extraordinarily slow and hesitating, the troops not averaging more than five miles a day. Arriving at the Chickahominy, the grave military error of isolating a part of the army by a treacherous and difficult stream, was inexcusable, and has lost us much prestige. On the first of June everything was propitious, the army concentrated, the men anxious for a trial of their strength, and all abundantly supplied. At the very outset we forgot our plans; our theory, and our duty, and instead of taking the initiative with the combined army, and attacking the enemy, we awaited his attack and contented ourselves throughout the entire day with simply repulsing his efforts and holding our ground. Was there ever so great a miscarriage before? That a general attack would have resulted in success, and possibly an overwhelming victory, was the opinion of almost every officer in the field with whom I talked. But the general commanding seemed to be satisfied with holding his ground. Why we should have remained at Fair Oaks passes understanding. If we could not advance and attack advantageously, on the first of June, how could we do so subsequently, when the enemy had fortified himself? Fortifying ourselves on the southern, or right bank of the Chickahominy, we remained constantly under fire, powerless and inactive. How long this state of things would have lasted, had not the enemy renewed the fighting, is hard to guess. Gaines’ Mills afforded one more capital chance for carrying out our plans. The enemy concentrated his army, and made a powerful attack on our right, a formidable position, which might have been held had troops enough been sent to support Porter’s command, but in arranging for their attack, the enemy withdrew nearly all his troops in front of Sumner, Franklin, and Heintzleman’s splendid corps, which lay inactive behind impregnable earthworks. As we knew, at least in front of our corps negroes were marched about their lines, beating drums, and making a noise, to deceive us with the belief that the troops were still there. Zook ascertained they were not there, and begged for permission to attack. If late in the afternoon, when Lee was concentrating all his forces, and pushing the fighting against Porter’s corps, Sumner had made a dash for the works in front, they would certainly have been carried, and our advance moved to within shelling distance of Richmond, which would have been a position worth obtaining. In any case, we should inevitably have drawn off the force attacking Porter, and probably had the chance to fight them in rear of their own works. Admitting the retreat was conducted superbly, the general’s Fourth of July address to the contrary, there was an immense amount of all kinds of material destroyed. At Savage Station, while we lay there, a heavy train loaded with stores, was set on fire and sent under full headway over the burning bridge across the Chickahominy, to plunge headlong into the stream, where all was absolutely destroyed. The fight at Malvern Hill was entirely favorable to our side, the enemy lost enormously, while we suffered very little, and at the close of the fight, the rebel troops were dispirited and thoroughly exhausted; our corps, and the troops on the right were mostly fresh, excepting two brigades of our division. If a grand attack in force, of the entire army, well led, had been ordered immediately after the repulse of the enemy’s last attack, who can doubt the result? But the same timid methods continued and the army was withdrawn, exactly as though it had sustained an overwhelming defeat. With such a commander, we can’t hope for success, at least in anything more than a defensive warfare. Such certainly is the opinion of a great many of our brightest officers.

July 6.—The steamer Juniata, while aground about four miles from Harrison’s Landing, on the James River, was fired into by the rebels, from the opposite shore, and one man wounded.

—A fight took place at Grand Prairie, near Aberdeen, Ark., between a body of Union infantry, under the command of Col. Spicely, and a superior force of rebel cavalry, resulting in the rout of the rebels with great loss.—(Doc. 146.)

JULY 5TH.—Gen. Lee is bringing forward the conscript regiments with rapidity; and so large are his powers that the Secretary of War has but little to do. He is, truly, but a mere clerk. The correspondence is mostly referred to the different bureaus for action, whose experienced heads know what should be done much better than Mr. Randolph could tell them.

July 5th

• • • • • • • • • • •

Think, that since the 28th of May, I have not walked three squares at a time, for my only walks are to Mrs. Brunot’s!

It is enough to kill any one; I might as well be at Ship Island, where Butler has sentenced Mrs. Phillips for laughing while the corpse of a Federal officer[1] was passing — at least, that is to be the principal charge, though I hope, for the sake of Butler’s soul, that he had better reasons. Shocking as her conduct was, she hardly deserved two years’ close confinement in such a dreadful place as that, because she happened to have no sense of delicacy, and no feeling.

“The darkest hour is just before the day”; we have had the blackest night for almost three months, and I don’t see the light yet. “Better days are coming —” I am getting skeptical, I fear me.

I look forward to my future life with a shudder. This one cannot last long; I will be “up and doing” before many months are past. Doing what? Why, if all father left us is lost forever, if we are to be penniless as well as homeless, I’ll work for my living. How, I wonder? I will teach. I know I am not capable, but I can do my best. I would rather die than be dependent; I would rather die than teach. There now, you know how I feel! Teaching before dependence, death before teaching. My soul revolts from the drudgery. I never see a governess that my heart does not ache for her. I think of the nameless, numberless insults and trials she is forced to submit to; of the hopeless, thankless task that is imposed on her, to which she is expected to submit without a murmur; of all her griefs and agony shut up in her heart, and I cry Heaven help a governess. My heart bleeds for them and —

1 o’clock P.M.

Thus far had I reached when news came that our forces were attacking the town, and had already driven the pickets in! I am well now.

We all rushed to make preparations instantly. I had just finished washing my hair, before I commenced writing, and had it all streaming around me; but it did not take a minute to thrust it into a loose net. Then we each put on a fresh dress, except myself, as I preferred to have a linen cambric worn several times before, to a clean one not quite so nice, for that can do good service when washed. The excitement is intense; mother is securing a few of father’s most valuable papers; Lilly running around after the children, and waiting for Charlie who cannot be found; Miriam, after securing all things needful, has gone downstairs to wait the issue; and I, dressed for instant flight, with my running-bag tied to my waist, and knapsack, bonnet, veil, etc., on the bed, occupy my last few moments at home in this profitable way.

Nobody knows what it is. A regiment has been marched out to meet our troops, some say commanded by Van Dorn, which I doubt. The gunboats are preparing to second them; we hear the Garrison drum and see people running, that is all. We don’t know what is coming. I believe it will prove nothing, after all. But —! The gunboat is drawn up so as to command our street here; the guns aimed up the street just below, and if a house falls, ours will be about the first. Well! this time next year, we will know all of which we are now ignorant. That is one consolation! The house will either be down or standing, then.

6 P.M.

We have once more subsided; how foolish all this seems! Miriam and I laughed while preparing, and laughed while unpacking; it is the only way to take such things, and we agree on that, as on most other subjects. “They say” the affair originated from half a dozen shots fired by some Federal soldiers through idleness, whereupon the pickets rushed in screaming Van Dorn was after them at the head of six thousand men. I have my reasons for doubting the story; it must have been something more than that, to spread such a panic; for they certainly had time to ascertain the truth of the attack before they beat the long roll and sent out their troops, for if it had been Van Dorn, he would have been on them before that. Whatever it was, I am glad of the excitement, for it gave me new life for several hours; I was really sick before. Oh, this life! When will it end? Evermore and forevermore shall we live in this suspense? I wish we were in the Sandwich Islands.


[1] Note by Mrs. Dawson in 1906: DeKay, our relative.

Saturday, 5th—There is nothing of importance. Everything seems quite dull. There are but few whites left in Corinth and we seldom see white natives anywhere. There are some colored people in town, women and children, but the able-bodied men have all been taken off with the rebels. Some colored men are coming into camp from the plantations.