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

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Post image for Diary of a Southern Refugee, Judith White McGuire.

Diary of a Southern Refugee, Judith White McGuire.

September 25, 2012

Diary of a Southern Refugee During the War by Judith White McGuire

25th.—The tables were turned on Saturday, as we succeeded in driving a good many of them into the Potomac. Ten thousand Yankees crossed at Shepherdstown, but unfortunately for them, they found the glorious Stonewall there. A fight ensued at Boteler’s Mill, in which General Jackson totally routed General Pleasanton and his command. The account of the Yankee slaughter is fearful. As they were recrossing the river our cannon was suddenly turned upon them. They were fording. The river is represented as being blocked up with the dead and dying, and crimsoned with blood. Horrible to think of! But why will they have it so? At any time they might stop fighting, and return to their own homes. We do not want their blood, but only to be separated from them as a people, eternally and everlastingly. Mr.—— , Mrs. D., and myself, went to church this evening, and after an address from Mr. K. we took a delightful ride.

A letter from B. H. M., the first she has been able to write for six months, except by “underground railroad,” with every danger of having them read, and perhaps published by the enemy. How, in the still beautiful but much injured Valley, they do rejoice in their freedom! Their captivity—for surrounded as they were by implacable enemies, it is captivity of the most trying kind—has been very oppressive to them. Their cattle, grain, and every thing else, have been taken from them. The gentlemen are actually keeping their horses in their cellars to protect them. Now they are rejoicing in having their own Southern soldiers around them; they are busily engaged nursing the wounded; hospitals are established in Winchester, Berryville, and other places.

Letters from my nephews, W. B. N. and W. N. The first describes the fights of Boonesborough, Sharpsburg, and Shepherdstown. He says the first of these was the severest hand-to-hand cavalry fight of the war. All were terrific. W. speaks of his feelings the day of the surrender of Harper’s Ferry. As they were about to charge the enemy’s intrenchments, he felt as if he were marching into the jaws of death, with, scarcely a hope of escape. The position was very strong, and the charge would be up a tremendous hill over felled timber, which lay thickly upon it—the enemy’s guns, supported by infantry in intrenchments, playing upon them all the while. What was their relief, therefore, to descry the white flag waving from the battlements! He thinks that, in the hands of resolute men, the position would have been impregnable. Thank God, the Yankees thought differently, and surrendered, thus saving many valuable lives, and giving us a grand success. May they ever be thus minded!

Post image for “In fact this whole subject of battle is misunderstood at home.”–Adams Family Letters, Charles Francis Adams, Jr., to his mother.

“In fact this whole subject of battle is misunderstood at home.”–Adams Family Letters, Charles Francis Adams, Jr., to his mother.

September 25, 2012

Adams Family Civil War letters; US Minister to the UK and his sons.

Sharpsburg, Md.
September 25, 1862

Next morning my only good horse was fairly done up and in the name of humanity I had to leave her at Frederick to take my chance of ever seeing her again, and with her, as I could not burden my other horse, I had to leave all my baggage and left everything including my last towel, my tooth-brush, my soap and every shirt and this, alas! was a fortnight ago! As soon as I left her I followed the regiment and had hardly left the town when the sound of artillery in the front admonished me that now we were practically in the advance. I pressed forward and rejoined the column some three miles from the town at a halt and with sharp artillery practice in front. Here we stood three hours resting by the side of the road and waiting for it to be opened for us. Now and then the shot and shell fluttered by us, reminding me of James Island. Some of them came disagreeably near and at last some infantry came up and for a moment sat down to rest with us. I told a Captain near me that the enemy had a perfect range of the road and he’d better be careful how he drew their fire and just as I uttered the words, r-r-r-h went a round shot through the bushes over my head, slid across Forbes and Caspar as they lay on the ground some thirty yards further on and took off the legs of three infantry men next to them. After that it did n’t take long for the infantry to deploy into the field and leave us in undisturbed possession of the road. Still the infantry did it and the enemy soon limbered up and were off, having delayed our pursuit some three hours. Then we followed and pushed over the hills wondering at the strength of the enemies’ position. As we got to the top we pushed on faster and faster until we went down the further side at a gallop. The enemy were close in front and now was the time. Soon we took to the fields and then, on the slope of a hill, with the enemy’s artillery beyond it, formed in column. More shelling, more artillery, and the bullets sung over our heads in lively style, and then “forward” as fast as we could go, over the hill, pulling down fences, floundering through ditches, struggling to outflank them. But the fences were too much for us and we had to return to the road, all losing our tempers and I all my writing materials, the one thing I had clung to. We made the road, however, in time to witness some of the humbug of the war. As we clattered into the town the Illinois cavalry, commanded by Colonel Farnsworth, not unknown to my father, were in front of us and, having hurried into the town were cracking away with their carbines and giving to me, at least, the idea of a sharp engagement in process. We followed them and got our arms all ready, but, as I rode through the single street of the pretty little town, a little excited and pistol in hand, I was somewhat surprised at the number of women who were waving their handkerchiefs, hailing us with delight as liberators and passing out water to our soldiers. For now we were in the truly loyal part of Maryland and everywhere were greeted with delight. It certainly did n’t look to me much like a battle, and yet there were those carbines snapping away like crackers on the 4th of July. In vain I looked for rebels, nary one could I see and at last it dawned on my mind that I was in the midst of a newspaper battle — “a cavalry charge,” “a sharp skirmish,” lots of glory, but n’ary reb.

Here we paused, while I thought we should have pressed forward, and our artillery battered away from the hill to see if any one was there. Meanwhile the rebels burned the bridge before us and made off for the range of hills on the other side of the valley. Presently we followed, forded the stream and followed them up the road, through the most beautiful valley I ever saw, all circled on three sides with lofty wooded ranges surrounding a beautiful rolling valley highly cultivated and blooming like a garden. A blazing bridge and barn in the middle of it suggested something unusual. We hurried through the valley and up the hills on the other side and there we made a pause, brought to a dead stand. It did n’t look like much, but we did n’t like to meddle with it. It was only a single man on horseback in the middle of the road some few hundred yards before us, but it stopped us like a brick wall. We stood on the brow of one hill, with a straight road running through the valley below and disappearing in a high wooded range on the other side. We did n’t know it then, but we were looking on what next day became the battle field of South Mountain. In the road below us were a few rebel videttes and on the hill beyond were posted, hardly to be distinguishable even with our glasses, a battery of artillery. We stood and looked and debated and at last our leaders concluded that it was n’t healthy to go forward, and so we went back. We went into camp on a hill-top and passed a tedious night. It was very cold, and we were hungry, but still we slept well and in the morning feasted on an ox we killed the night before.

At seven o’clock we moved forward to our position of the day before, struggling along to the front through a dense advancing army corps. We got there and took up our position in support of a battery and soon our artillery opened and after about an hour the enemy began to answer. Presently we were moved far to the front and of course a blunder was made, and we found ourselves drawn up in a cornfield in front of our most advanced battery and between it and the enemy, with the shells hurtling over us like mad, and now and then falling around us, but fortunately doing us no harm save ruffling our nerves. Here we sat on our horses for two hours, doing no good and unpleasantly exposed. At last we were moved from there and sent round to our left to support some infantry and there we passed the afternoon, listening to the crackle of musketry and the roar of artillery till night, when it ceased and the men lay down in ranks and slept, holding the bridles of the horses. This was all we saw of the battle of South Mountain, which at the time we supposed to be a heavy skirmish….

Here we lay all that day and I think the next, with a continual spattering of shells around, some of which injured other commands adjoining but all spared ours, and, at last, one day we were ordered early to the rear and we knew there was to be a big fight. Then came the battle of Antietam Creek and we saw about as much of it as of that at South Mountain. We were soon brought hurriedly to the extreme front and posted in support of a battery amid the heaviest shelling and cannonade I ever heard. It was a terrific artillery duel, which lasted where we were all day and injured almost no one. At first, as we took up position, we lost a horse or two, and the storm of artillery, the crashing of shells and the deep reverberations from the hills were confusing and terrifying, and yet, so well were we posted and so accustomed to it did we become, that ten minutes after the imminent danger was over and we were ordered to dismount, I fell sound asleep on the grass and my horse got away from me.

In fact this whole subject of battle is misunderstood at home. We hear of the night before battle. I have seen three of them and have thought I saw half a dozen when the battle did n’t come off, and I have never yet seen one when every officer whom I saw did not seem, not only undisturbed, but wholly to fail to realise that any thing unusual was about to occur. In battle men are always frightened on coming under fire, but they soon get accustomed to it, if it does little execution, however heavy it may be. If the execution is heavy they’re not nearly so apt to go to sleep, and I can’t say I have ever yet fallen in with that lust for danger of which I have read….

Post image for Journal of Surgeon Alfred L. Castleman.

Journal of Surgeon Alfred L. Castleman.

September 25, 2012

Journal of Surgeon Alfred L Castleman.

25th—Well, Gen. Lee is, safely to himself, out of Maryland, into which he came in the confident expectation of adding at least fifty thousand men to his army, but which he left with fifteen thousand less than he brought in.

My hand is excessively painful, though all constitutional symptoms have left. Suppuration has fairly set in, and I no longer feel any uneasiness as to results.

Post image for Three Years in the Confederate Horse Artillery — George Michael Neese.

Three Years in the Confederate Horse Artillery — George Michael Neese.

September 25, 2012

Three Years in the Confederate Horse Artillery — George Michael Neese.

September 25 —This morning we were ordered up the Berryville pike. We went about three miles toward Berryville, then came right back to camp. After we got back we moved camp to Leetown, which is seven miles from Charlestown, on the Smithfield and Shepherdstown road.

Post image for Diary of Gideon Welles.

Diary of Gideon Welles.

September 25, 2012

Diary of Gideon Welles

September 25, Thursday. Had some talk to-day with Chase on financial matters. Our drafts on Barings now cost us 29 percent. I object to this as presenting an untrue statement of naval expenditures, — unjust to the Navy Department as well as incorrect in fact. If I draw for $100,000 it ought not to take from the naval appropriation $129,000. No estimates, no appropriations by Congress, embrace the $29,000 brought on by the mistaken Treasury policy of depreciating the currency. I therefore desire the Secretary of the Treasury to place $100,000 in the hands of the Barings to the credit of the Navy Department, less the exchange. This he declines to do, but insists on deducting the difference between money and inconvertible paper, which I claim to be wrong, because in our foreign expenditures the paper which his financial policy forces upon us at home is worthless abroad. The depreciation is the result of a mistaken financial policy, and illustrates its error and tendency to error.

The departure from a specie standard and the adoption of an irredeemable paper currency deranges the finances and is fraught with disastrous consequences. This vitiation of the currency is the beginning of evil, — a fatal mistake, which will be likely to overwhelm Chase and the Administration, if he and they remain here long enough.

Had some conversation with Chase relating to the War. He is much discouraged, thinks the President is, believes the President is disposed to let matters take their course, deplores this state of things but can see no relief. I asked if the principal source of the difficulty was not in the fact that we actually had not a War Department. Stanton is dissatisfied, and he and those under his influence do not sustain and encourage McClellan, yet he needs to be constantly stimulated, inspired, and pushed forward. It was, I said, apparent to me, and I thought to him, that the Secretary of War, though arrogant and often offensive in language, did not direct army movements; he appears to have something else than army operations in view. The army officers here, or others than he, appear to control military movements. Chase was disturbed by my remarks. Said Stanton had not been sustained, and his Department had become demoralized, but he (C.) should never consent to remain if Stanton left. I told him he misapprehended me. I was not the man to propose the exclusion of Stanton, or any one of our Cabinet associates, but we must look at things as they are and not fear to discuss them. It was our duty to meet difficulties and try to correct them. It was wrong for him, or any one, to say he would not remain and do his duty if the welfare of the country required a change of policy or a personal change in any one Department. If Stanton was militarily unfit, indifferent, dissatisfied, or engaged in petty personal intrigues against a man whom he disliked, to the neglect of the duties with which he was intrusted, or had not the necessary administrative ability, was from rudeness or any other cause offensive, we ought not to shut our eyes to the fact. If a man were to be brought into the War Department, or proposed to be brought in, with heart and mind in the cause, sincere, earnest, and capable, who would master the generals and control them, break up cliquism, and bring forward those officers who had the highest military qualities, we ought not to object to it. I knew not that such a change was thought of. Without controverting or assenting, he said Stanton had given way just as Cameron did, and in that way lost command and influence. It is evident that Chase takes pretty much the same views that I do, but has not made up his mind to act upon his convictions. He feels that he has been influenced by Stanton, whose political and official support he wants in his aspirations, but begins to have a suspicion that S. is unreliable. They have consulted and acted in concert and C. had flattered himself that he had secured S. in his interest, but must have become aware that there is a stronger tie between Seward and Stanton than any cord of his. C. is not always an acute and accurate reader of men, but he cannot have failed to detect some of the infirm traits of Stanton. When I declined to make myself a party to the combination against McClellan and refused to sign the paper which Chase brought me, Stanton, with whom I was not very intimate, spoke to me in regard to it. I told Stanton I thought the course proposed was disrespectful to the President. Stanton said he felt under no obligation to Mr. Lincoln, that the obligations were the other way, both to him and to me. His remarks made an impression on me most unfavorable, and confirmed my previous opinion that he is not faithful and true but insincere.

The real character of J. P. Hale is exhibited in a single transaction. He wrote me an impertinent and dictatorial letter which I received on Wednesday morning, admonishing me not to violate law in the appointment of midshipmen. Learning from my answer that I was making these appointments notwithstanding his warning and protest, he had the superlative meanness to call on Assistant Secretary Fox, and request him, if I was actually making the appointments which he declares to be illegal, to procure on his (Hale’s) application the appointment of a lad for whom he felt an interest. This is after his supercilious letter to me, and one equally supercilious to Fox, which the latter showed me, in which he buttoned up his virtue to the throat and said he would never acquiesce in such a violation of the law. Oh, John P. Hale, how transparent is thy virtue! Long speeches, loud professions, Scriptural quotations, funny anecdotes, vehement denunciations avail not to cover thy nakedness, which is very bald.

The President has issued a proclamation on martial law, — suspension of habeas corpus he terms it, meaning, of course, a suspension of the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus. Of this proclamation, I knew nothing until I saw it in the papers, and am not sorry that I did not. I question the wisdom or utility of a multiplicity of proclamations striking deep on great questions.

Post image for Downing’s Civil War Diary.–Alexander G. Downing.

Downing’s Civil War Diary.–Alexander G. Downing.

September 25, 2012

Diary of Alexander G. Downing; Company E, Eleventh Iowa Infantry

Thursday, 25th—Our knapsacks and tents arrived today by train from Corinth, and it will be more like living now. We have excellent water here, and there are large hotels for invalids, this having been a health resort for Southern people. There are quite a number of mineral springs here, some of sulphur and others of iron.

Post image for War Diary of Luman Harris Tenney.

War Diary of Luman Harris Tenney.

September 25, 2012

War Diary of Luman Harris Tenney.

Thursday, 25th. In the morning went to town and did some chores for the Capt. Made out a requisition and got corn. Helped Chamberlain get some clothing and issue it. Got me a blue overcoat, pants and lariat. Wrote brief letter to Fannie A. In P. M. detachment started for Mt. Vernon. Encamped at “Little York,” 10 miles. Stayed behind with Porter and a few men and drew rations. I couldn’t but notice the difference between the business officers here and at most posts. All pleasant and accommodating. Last night Capt. Nettleton promised me a place in his company as sergeant if I wanted after being mustered out. I was delighted. I should like it well. Overtook the command about an hour after camping. Became quite cold. Frightened a girl—called to inquire our way and surprised them. All seemed frightened.

Post image for Robert M. Magill—Personal Reminiscences of a Confederate Soldier Boy.

Robert M. Magill—Personal Reminiscences of a Confederate Soldier Boy.

September 25, 2012

Robert M. Magill—Personal Reminiscences of a Confederate Soldier Boy, 39th Georgia Regiment of Infantry

Thursday, 25th.—Started on after regiment early; walked about four miles and called at house for breakfast; would not take any pay; overtook regiment one and one-half miles west of Paris. Only four of Company F present when stacked arms last night. This gives some idea as to how nearly worn out the whole army was. Started at 10:30 A. M. Passed through Paris 11 A. M. Took Mount Sterling Road; marched six miles and halted on the banks of a beautiful stream and cooked rations. Started at 8 P. M., and marched four miles.

Pinkerton at Antietam.

September 25, 2012

Library of Congress,Miscellaneous document sources

Antietam, Md. Allan Pinkerton (E. J. Allen) of the Secret Service on horseback

Antietam, Md. Allan Pinkerton (“E. J. Allen”) of the Secret Service on horseback; photograph by Alexander Gardner.

Library of Congress image.

Post image for Rebel War Clerk

Rebel War Clerk

September 25, 2012

A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, By John Beauchamp Jones

SEPTEMBER 25TH.—Blankets, that used to sell for $6, are now $25 per pair; and sheets are selling for $15 per pair, which might have been had a year ago for $4. Common 4-4 bleached cotton shirting is selling at $1 a yard.

Gen. Lee’s locality and operations, since the battle of Sharpsburg or Shepherdstown, are still enveloped in mystery.

About one hundred of the commissioned officers of Pope’s army, taken prisoners by Jackson, and confined as felons in our prisons, in conformity to the President’s retaliatory order, were yesterday released on parole, in consequence of satisfactory communications from the United States Government, disavowing Pope’s orders, I presume, and stating officially the fact that Pope himself has been relieved from command.

We have taken, and paroled, within the last twelve or fifteen weeks, no less than forty odd thousand prisoners! The United States must owe us some thirty thousand men. This does not look like progress in the work of subjugation.

Horrible! I have seen men just from Manassas, and the battle-field of the 30th August, where, they assure me, hundreds of dead Yankees still lie unburied! They are swollen “as large as cows,” say they, “and are as black as crows.” No one can now undertake to bury them. When the wind blows from that direction, it is said the scent of carrion is distinctly perceptible at the White House in Washington. It is said the enemy are evacuating Alexandria. I do not believe this.

A gentleman (Georgian) to whom I gave a passport to visit the army, taking two substitutes, over forty-five years of age, in place of two sick young men in the hospitals, informs me that he got upon the ground just before the great battle at Sharpsburg commenced. The substitutes were mustered in, and in less than an hour after their arrival, one of them was shot through the hat and hair, but his head was untouched. He says they fought as well as veterans.

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