26th.—Another quiet day in camp. I applied to-day for a furlough, which I doubt not will be granted. I have worked hard and constantly for sixteen months, and as I am now for a time disabled, I can conceive of no reason why I may not be relieved for a few weeks. No attempted solution yet of the question “Why did not McClellan crush or capture the rebel army after the battle of Antietam?” This question is made peculiarly pertinent by the fact, now ascertained, that we had on the ground the morning after the battle, a force of men (not one of whom had been in the battle of the day before) nearly if not quite equal to Lee’s entire army.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Sarah Morgan. X.
September 26th, Friday.
My mark finds me at Linwood, though I had not the slightest idea that it would. Wonder where twenty pages beyond will find me? At home, I hope and pray, though I am as happy here as I could possibly be in any place on earth.
Stirring news from our armies comes pouring in. Sunday, Colonel Breaux told me of Wool’s defeat, and the great number of prisoners, cannon, and the large supplies of stores and ammunition that we had captured. Then Tuesday we heard of three great battles in Maryland, the third one still continuing; but no particulars of any of them. Yesterday came tidings of our having recrossed the Potomac, and to-day we hear that McClellan’s army has been cut to pieces; but whether it is the same old fight or a new one, I cannot as yet learn; for reliable information is not easily obtained in America at this period.
Did I ever record how little truth there was in any of that last Clinton news? It speaks for itself, though. Not a boat lay at Baton Rouge; Camp Moore was not even threatened; Ponchatoula Station was burned, but the one battery was retaken by our men the same night.
But still these false reports cannot equal the Yankees’. Take, for instance, the report of the Captain of the Essex. I give General Carter as my authority. The Captain reports having been fired on by a battery of thirty-six large guns, at Port Hudson, some weeks ago, when he opened fire and silenced them, one after the other, from the first to the last. Not a shot from the “rebel” batteries reached them, and not a casualty on their side occurred. But the loss of the Confederates must have been awful. He came within — I forget how many — yards from the shore, and there was not a live man to be seen. He did not mention if there were any dead ones! Now for the other side. There were but four guns mounted there at the time. Shot and shell from those four certainly reached something, for one was seen to enter a porthole, from whence issued frightful shrieks soon after, and it is well known that the Essex is so badly injured by “something” as to be in a sinking condition, and only kept afloat by a gunboat lashed on either side. If she is uninjured, why did she not return and burn Natchez as she announced? In leaving Port Hudson, where “not a live man was to be seen” (nor a dead one to be found), she stopped at Mr. Babin’s, just below Dr. Nolan’s, where she remained the rest of the day. After she left, being curious to discover the reason of her short stay, Mr. Babin walked to the place where she had been, and discovered sixteen fresh graves on the bank. If they buried them as they did at Baton Rouge and Vicksburg, four in a grave, how many would they be? But granting there were but sixteen, would that prove the veracity of the Captain? Poor man! Perhaps he is related to Pope, and cannot help himself.
September 26, Friday. At several meetings of late the subject of deporting the colored race has been discussed. Indeed for months, almost from the commencement of this administration, it has been at times considered. More than a year ago it was thrust on me by Thompson and others in connection with the Chiriqui Grant, a claim to title from the Government of Central America of a large part of Costa Rica. Speculators used it as a means of disposing of that grant to our Government. It was a rotten remnant of an intrigue of the last administration. The President, encouraged by Blair and Smith, was disposed to favor it. Blair is honest and disinterested; perhaps Smith is so, yet I have not been favorably impressed with his zeal in behalf of the Chiriqui Association. As early as May, 1861, a great pressure was made upon me to enter into a coal contract with this company. The President was earnest in the matter; wished to send the negroes out of the country. Smith, with the Thompsons, urged and stimulated him, and they were as importunate with me as the President. I spent two or three hours on different days looking over the papers, — titles, maps, reports, and evidence, — and came to the conclusion that there was fraud and cheat in the affair. It appeared to be a swindling speculation. Told the President I had no confidence in it, and asked to be released from its further consideration. The papers were then referred to Smith to investigate and report. After a month or two he reported strongly in favor of the scheme, and advised that the Navy Department should make an immediate contract for coal before foreign governments got hold of it. Mr. Toucey had investigated it. Commodore Engle had been sent out to examine the country and especially in relation to coal. The President was quite earnest in its favor, but, satisfied myself it was a job, I objected and desired to be excused from any participation in it. Two or three times it has been revived, but I have crowded off action. Chase gave me assistance on one occasion, and the scheme was dropped until this question of deporting colored persons came up, when Smith again brought forward Thompson’s Chiriqui Grant. He made a skillful and taking report, embracing both coal and negroes. Each was to assist the other. The negroes were to be transported to Chiriqui to mine coal for the Navy, and the Secretary of the Navy was to make an immediate advance of $50,000 for coal not yet mined, — nor laborers obtained to mine it, nor any satisfactory information or proof that there was decent coal to be mined. I respectfully declined adopting his views. Chase and Stanton sustained me, and Mr. Bates to an extent. Blair, who first favored it, cooled off, as the question was discussed, but the President and Smith were persistent.
It came out that the governments and rival parties in Central America denied the legality of the Chiriqui Grant and Thompson’s claim, — declared it was a bogus transaction. The President concluded he ought to be better satisfied on this point, and determined he would send out an agent. At this stage of the case Senator Pomeroy appeared and took upon himself a negro emigrating colonization scheme. Would himself go out and take with him a cargo of negroes, and hunt up a place for them, — all, professedly, in the cause of humanity.
On Tuesday last the President brought forward the subject and desired the members of the Cabinet to each take it into serious consideration. He thought a treaty could be made to advantage, and territory secured to which the negroes could be sent. Thought it essential to provide an asylum for a race which we had emancipated, but which could never be recognized or admitted to be our equals. Several governments had signified their willingness to receive them. Mr. Seward said some were willing to take them without expense to us.
Mr. Blair made a long argumentative statement in favor of deportation. It would be necessary to rid the country of its black population, and some place must be found for them. He is strongly for deportation, has given the subject much thought, but yet seems to have no matured system which he can recommend. Mr. Bates was for compulsory deportation. The negro would not, he said, go voluntarily, had great local attachments but no enterprise or persistency. The President objected unequivocally to compulsion. Their emigration must be voluntary and without expense to themselves. Great Britain, Denmark, and perhaps other powers would take them. I remarked there was no necessity for a treaty, which had been suggested. Any person who desired to leave the country could do so now, whether white or black, and it was best to leave it so, — a voluntary system; the emigrant who chose to leave our shores could and would go where there were the best inducements.
These remarks seemed to strike Seward, who, I perceive, has been in consultation with the President and some of the foreign ministers, and on his motion the subject was then postponed, with an understanding it would be taken up to-day. Mr. Bates had a very well prepared paper which he read, expressing his views. Little was said by any one else except Seward, who followed up my suggestions. But the President is not satisfied; says he wants a treaty. Smith says the Senate would never ratify a treaty conferring any power, and advised that Seward should make a contract.
The Governors of the loyal States called to-day on the President. They have had a meeting at Altoona, for what purpose I scarcely know. It was an unauthorized gathering of State Executives, doubtless with good intent; but I dislike these irregular and extraordinary movements. They must tend to good or evil, and I see no good. These officials had better limit their efforts within their legitimate sphere.
Admiral Gregory came to see me in relation to the ironclads which are being constructed under his superintendence. Enjoined upon him to have them completed by November at farthest. A demonstration is to be made on Charleston, and it will not do to depend upon the army even for cooperation there.
It is now almost a fortnight since the battle near Sharpsburg [Antietam]. The Rebels have recrossed the Potomac, but our army is doing nothing. The President says Halleck told him he should want two days more to make up his mind what to do. Great Heavens! what; a General-in-Chief!
Friday, 26th—I was on fatigue duty down in town today, helping to dismount the guns and load them with the ammunition upon the cars to be shipped to Corinth. We are preparing to leave Iuka as soon as possible, but it is slow work, as the railroad is in bad shape, and there is only one train a day.
Middletown, Maryland, September 26, 1862.
Dear Uncle : — Lucy is here and we are pretty jolly. She visits the wounded and comes back in tears, then we take a little refreshment and get over it. I am doing well. Shall, perhaps, come home a little sooner than I expected to be able to. I am now in a fix. To get me for the Seventy-ninth, some of its friends got an order to relieve me from the Twenty-third from the War Department. So I am a free man, and can go or come as I see fit. I expect, however, to stay with [the] Twenty-third.
Shall probably start home in ten days or so. I got your letter of the 18th. You need have no anxiety about me. I think I shall come home by way of Cleveland and Fremont, stopping a few days with you. Love to all.
H.
S. BIRCHARD.
Friday, 26th. Renewed our march at sunrise after breakfast. Our course lay mostly through the woods, a little over rough prairie. After 25 miles march, reached Mt. Vernon at 4 P. M. Gen Brown’s command here mostly Mo. troops, one Arkansas regiment. Made requisition and drew corn. Pretty little town. Took supper with teamsters. Sold my old overcoat to Noah Long for $4, to be paid pay day. News came from Sarcoxie about a fight. Gen. Salomon. Good prospects ahead for a fight. Order to muster out staff has come.
Written from the Sea islands of South Carolina.
[Diary] 26th.
“Secesh” spies have been taken lately on Port Royal Island, and it is said there is every probability of an attack some fine night.
I have patients from Cat Island and all about. My hands are full indeed.
Friday, 26th.—Passed through North Middleton, at 7 A. M. Halted at 3 P. M., two miles from Mount Sterling. Rumored now that we were sent here to intercept Federal General Morgan on his retreat from Cumberland Gap, but Morgan didn’t come this way.
Camp near Sharpsburg, Md.,
Friday, September 26, 1862.
Dear Brother and Sister:—
Nothing of interest has occurred since I wrote. We are guarding this ford and “All is quiet along the Potomac” The impression prevails that the rebel army is not far off on the other side of the river, and some morning you may hear of another great battle.
I must answer some of your questions. On the march from the Rappahannock to Manassas, we were surrounded by the rebels most of the time. They got in Pope’s rear at Culpeper and then they kept there, going back between him and Washington as far as Centreville and Fairfax. They followed up in our rear and cut off our supply train, and were continually hovering round our left, waiting an opportunity to attack us. If a fire was kindled, the smoke in the day or the light at night would reveal our position and invite a shell, and we were not allowed to make any. Do you see? But I guess “nobody was hurt.”
You ask what good McClellan accomplished by his campaign on the Peninsula, and add that he has but few friends in your neighborhood. Now I might ask you, what has anyone done on our side towards crushing the rebellion? Is the end of the war apparently any nearer than it was last spring? Have not the rebels a larger army to-day than they had last spring? And are they any less determined to continue the war?
In its leading object, the capture of Richmond, the campaign was a failure. Such men as Greeley instantly pounce upon McClellan and blame him for the fact, when, in my humble judgment, the blame belongs on other shoulders. At Yorktown, he first met the enemy intrenched in one of the strongest positions in the country. When he arrived there, if he had had fresh men, artillery and ammunition, provisions, etc., he might have taken the works by assault, but he had not. His artillery and ammunition trains were stuck in the mud that was almost impassable, and by the time they could be got up, Yorktown was defended by twice our number of troops. Then Greeley and his party sneered because McClellan went to digging. He did dig, and compelled a superior force to evacuate their fortifications. Now, I say, he showed consummate skill in driving them from such a place with scarcely the loss of a single life. He followed the army to their new defenses on the Chickahominy. We all hoped he would take Richmond. We were disappointed, and Greeley sneered again. Of course he blamed McClellan, and thousands who swallow every word the Tribune utters as gospel truth believed him. Well, you ask, if he was not to blame, who was? I blame McDowell. I have hardly patience to call him a general. Great events sometimes spring from slight causes. If you have read the history of the war closely, you will remember the quarrel between McDowell and Sigel, when the latter asked permission to burn a certain bridge to cut off Jackson’s retreat up the Shenandoah, and the refusal of the former.
See the result—the bridge was left unburnt and Jackson crossed in safety and hurled his command of forty thousand on McClellan’s right wing. That sudden reinforcement of the enemy compelled McClellan to withdraw his right wing, leaving the White House unprotected, and consequently, to change his base of operations to the James. His success in doing this won for him the admiration of every military man in this country and Europe. Napoleon said that he who could whip the enemy while he himself retreated, was a better general than one who achieved a victory under the prestige of past success. McClellan retreated fifteen miles and fought the enemy every day for seven days, whipping superior forces every day, winding up with the victory at Malvern Hill. There we learned that he is a general. Those who have seen what he had to contend with have confidence in him, and although his campaign was a failure, we see that the blame rests not on him, but on those who failed him just on the eve of success. Had McDowell allowed Sigel to burn that bridge, Fremont could have come up with him, and uniting his forces with those of McDowell, Sigel and Banks, they could have annihilated Jackson’s army, or at least beaten it so it never could have troubled us, and then following up, united all their force with us and swept on into Richmond. When you wrote, you had not heard of McClellan’s victory at Antietam. If you had, I think you would not have asked the question. Public confidence, led by Greeley, and ever hasty to condemn, was severely shaken when he left the Peninsula. I think he has regained at least a part of it by that hard earned victory. If I were at home nothing would make me ready to fight sooner than to hear some home guard abuse McClellan. I am afraid I should lay myself liable to indictments for assault and battery pretty often, if public opinion is as you say. Don’t swallow every word old Greeley says as the pure truth. A man will do a great deal for party and call it country. McClellan is a Democrat, though not a politician. Fremont is a Republican. Now, see if Greeley don’t join in the popular outcry against McClellan and want Fremont to take his place. Compare what you know of the generalship of the two men, and ask yourself if Greeley’s spirit is party or country.
I got started so about McClellan that I almost forgot the one-fingered mittens and everything else in both letters. I will answer that by informing you that my whole wardrobe consists of what I wear at one time. I have not even one extra pair of socks or a shirt. When I get a chance to wash I hang my shirt up and go without till it gets dry. I should not wonder if another year’s soldiering would enable me to do without clothing altogether, and save my $42 for postage and tobacco money. I suppose Almon thinks his mittens and his oil-cloth fixings “big things,” but I wouldn’t give a snap of the finger for them now. They are very well in winter quarters, but I would not carry them ten miles on a march for them.
I suppose that two thousand soldiers looked as big to you as our regiment did to me when I first enlisted at Erie. I would not consider that much of a crowd now. I can see the camp of ten thousand from where I am writing. The greatest show of troops I have seen was at the review near Washington last fall. Old Abe and Little Mac had eighty thousand there on parade and that was a show. I have seen the most of McClellan’s, McDowell’s, Pope’s, Banks’, and Sigel’s armies, but I would rather see two or three pretty girls and a glee-book this afternoon than the whole of them. Write soon as you can.
From the Twelfth Regiment.
Rendezvous at Brattleboro—First Guard Duty.
In Camp, Brattleboro, Sept. 26, 1862.
Dear Free Press:
This correspondence must begin a little back of the natural starting point of our leaving Burlington. The uppermost thing in my mind, as I write, is a sense of the kindly interest in the Howard Guard,[1] on the part of the citizens of Burlington, shown by the concourse which crowded the Town Hall on Wednesday evening to give emphasis to our sword presentation to our worthy captain; by the kind sentiments expressed and the hearty God bless you’s uttered there and then; and by what seemed to us the turn out en masse of the town of Burlington to see us off the next morning. Those demonstrations touched every man in the Guard, and will not soon be forgotten by them. It was an unfortunate thing for us, that our departure was so hasty as to deprive most of us of the opportunity of giving the final hand-shake to our friends.
Our ride to Brattleboro was a pleasant one. “We were joined at Brandon by the Brandon company, at Rutland by the Rutland company, and at Bellows Falls by the long train with the remainder of the regiment. At every station, the people seemed to be out in multitudes, and from the doors and windows of every farm-house on the way the handkerchiefs were fluttering. These nine months regiments appear to be objects of especial interest on the part of the citizens of Vermont, and I trust they will fulfil the expectations of their friends. I am told that the arrival of a whole regiment, in camp, on the day set, is something unprecedented here.
We reached Brattleboro about half-past four o’clock. The regiment had a dusty march enough to camp, where, after considerable exertion on the part of Col. Blunt, it was finally formed into line, in front of the barracks. The companies are, most of them, deficient in drill, and the men have in fact, about everything to learn. They did, however, finally get into line parallel with the barracks without having the line of buildings moved to correspond with the line of men, which for a time appeared to be the only way in which any kind of parallelism could be established between the two. The companies are composed for the most part, however, of men who will learn quickly, and a few days of steady drill will tell another story. We broke ranks just at dark, received our blankets, woolen and india-rubber, selected our bunks, and marched off to supper, which was abundant and good enough for anybody, sauced as it was with a hearty appetite.
The barracks are houses of plain boards, ten in number, within which wooden bunks are ranged for the men, in double tiers. I cannot speak from experience ,as yet, as to their comfort, your humble servant having been among the fortunate individuals who, constituting the first eight (alphabetically) of the company, were the first detailed for guard duty. This I found to mean a couple of hours of such rest as could be extracted from the soft side of a hemlock plank in the guard house, with sergeants and corporals and “reliefs” coming in and going out, and always in interested conversation when not in active motion; then two hours (from 11 to 1) of pacing a sentry beat, musket on shoulder, over what by this time is a path, but then was an imaginary, and in the darkness, uncertain, line on the dew-soaked grass of the meadow; then about three hours more of that “rest” I have alluded to, but this time I found the plank decidedly softer, and slept in spite of the trifling drawbacks mentioned; then two hours more of sentry duty ; and then—volunteers having been called for for special guard duty—two hours more of the same. By this time it was well into the morning.
On the whole it was quite a night, for the first one in camp. I rather liked it. To be sure, if the only proper business of the night be sleeping, it was not as successful a piece of business in that way as could be conceived of, but I natter myself that it was a successful effort at guard duty. Not a rebel broke in, nor a roving volunteer broke out, over my share of the line, and if there was no sleeping there was a good deal of other things. There was, for instance, a fine opportunity for the study of astronomy; ditto, for meditation. I read in the bright planets success for the good cause, and glory for the Twelfth Vermont, and mused—on what not. This was one of the finest opportunities to see the Connecticut valley mist rise from the river and steal over the meadows, giving a shadowy veil to the trees, a halo apiece to the stars, and adding to the stature of my comrade sentinels till they loomed like Goliaths of Gath through the fog-cloud. There was also the opportunity to see the morning break, not with the grand crash of bright sunrise, but cushioned and shaded by that same fog-bank, till the break was of the softest and most gradual. Who will say that these are not compensations, and who wouldn’t be a soldier?
To-day the regiment is doing nothing but settle itself in its quarters. If it does anything worth telling, I shall try to tell it to you.
B.
[1] The regiment consisted of ten companies of Vermont Militia, reorganized under Pres. Lincoln’s call of August 4, 1862, for 300.000 militia to serve for nine months. The Burlington Company had been known in the State Militia as the Howard Guard. The Company had in its ranks twelve men of collegiate education, and other substantial citizens who had not felt able to leave their business or professions for three years, but were glad to enlist for a shorter term; and the regiment as a whole was largely composed of such citizens.
