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

December 2012

December 31. [Chattanooga] —The last day of 1862— how teeming with wonderful events has been the past year!

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“How many precious souls have fled

To the vast regions of the dead,

Since to this day the changing sun

Through his last yearly period run.”

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The South has suffered, O, how terribly! Thousands and tens of thousands of precious lives have been sacrificed to the god of war. In every state of our beloved land there has been a temple erected to the insatiate Moloch. This is not all: women and children have been left homeless, and driven out into the pitiless storm, and even the bitterest frowns of nature have had more kindness in them than the hearts of our ruthless invaders. The inspired bard of Scotia has graphically described our case:

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“Blow, blow, ye winds, with heavier gust!

And freeze, thou bitter-biting frost!

Descend, ye chilly, smothering snows!

Not all your rage, as now, united shows

More hard unkindness, unrelenting,

Vengeful malice unrelenting,

Than heav’n-illum’d man on brother man bestows;

See stern oppression’s iron grip,

On mad ambition’s gory hand,

Sending, like blood-hounds from the slip,

Woe, want, and murder o’er our land!

E’en in the peaceful rural vale,

Truth, weeping, tells the mournful tale.

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How hard it is to think of all this, knowing that the above is an “owre true tale,” without feeling hate, bitter hate, toward those who are the cause of it! We were more than mortal were it otherwise, but I trust that with it all we will leave vengeance to Him to whom it belongs.

Amid all this suffering the star of hope for our cause shines brighter and brighter, although in the West we have lost much territory. Our armies are improving every way. They are better clad and better fed than they were. We have much sickness, but nothing to what we have had.

Life in camp has improved, physically and morally. The medical department has also improved. Surgeons have to be thoroughly examined before receiving commissions. Congress has passed a law, making provision for ladies (where they can be had) to take charge of the domestic arrangements in hospitals.

Manufactories have arisen where before the war they were not known. Women, who thought such things impossible, are making shoes and knitting-socks. In every farm-house the spinning-wheel and loom is heard. Fields are teeming with grain, where once grew cotton and tobacco. We have enough vessels running the blockade to keep us in tea and coffee, and cattle from Texas to keep us in beef. In fact, if the war lasts much longer, we will be the most independent people in the world.

Although we have lost many great and good men, numbers have risen to take their place. The foe have work yet before them; they have to conquer Lee, Jackson, Longstreet, Hill, and a host of others in Virginia, with their invincible armies.

Beauregard at Charleston; Hindman and Price in the far west; the ubiquitous Morgan; and last, though by no means least, the army of Tennessee, and its veteran commanders, Johnston and Bragg. I have not forgotten noble little Vicksburg and her heroic defenders; with these and God’s blessing, I trust that the time is not far distant, when dove-eyed peace will hover o’er our now distracted land.

Mr. Burgess, a member of the battery my brother is in, called this evening and left some money for Mrs. W., a Christmas donation from Mrs. Otis of Mobile. It is rumored a battle has commenced at Murfreesboro. May God give us the victory!

by John Beauchamp Jones

DECEMBER 31ST.—There were more skirmishes near Vicksburg yesterday; and although several of the Louisiana regiments are said to have immortalized themselves (having lost only two or three men each), I suppose nothing decisive was accomplished. I have not implicit faith in Western dispatches; they are too often exaggerations. And we have nothing further from Murfreesborough.

But there is reliable intelligence from Albemarle Sound, where a large fleet of the enemy’s transports appeared yesterday. We must look now for naval operations. Perhaps Weldon is aimed at.

Gen. Wise writes a remarkable letter to the department. His son, just seventeen years old, a lieutenant in 10th Virginia Cavalry, was detailed as ordnance officer of the general’s brigade, when that regiment was taken from his father. Now Gen. Cooper, the Northern’ head of the Southern army, orders him to the 10th Cavalry. The general desires his son to remain with him, or that the lieutenant may be permitted to resign. He says he asks no favors of the administration, and has never received any. His best blood (Capt. O. J. W.) has been given to the country, and his home and property lost by the surrender of Norfolk, etc.To-day, Gen. Winder’s account for disbursement of ” secret service” money was sent in. Among the persons who were the recipients of this money, I noticed Dr. Rossvally, a notorious spy, and S____w, one of his policemen, who, with W____ll, very recently fled to the enemy, and is now in the service of the United States, at Washington!

Gen. Lee has given the command in Northwestern Virginia to Gen. W. E. Jones; and he asks the Secretary to hold a major he has captured as a hostage for the good conduct of the Federal Gen. Milroy, who is imitating Gen. Pope in his cruelties to civilians.

December 30th. Marching orders. Reported the rebel cavalry leader J. E. B. Stuart about to raid into Maryland along the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. The three companies of our regiment and other troops here are suddenly ordered out on the line of the B. & O. R. R. Left camp tonight in a warm rain storm.

Provost Marshal’s Office, Waterford, Miss.,

December 30, 1862.

Fifteen days outside the world and still we live. No papers of later date than the 15th inst. have reached us, and ’twill be at least five days’ move before we can hope to see one. In that time there have been some six or eight fights in this country all to our disadvantage, and two cowardly surrenders, Holly Springs and Trenton. Pemberton’s cavalry under Van Dorn, turned our left, and striking at our line of communication, first surprised and captured Holly Springs, burned everything belonging to our army with the houses containing the stores; then while a portion of the column retreated another portion successively attacked our troops stationed at Coldwater bridge, Middleton, Grand Junction, and outposts near Bolivar, in all of which they were repulsed. About the same time a portion of Bragg’s forces crossed the Tennessee river at or near Musch Shoals, Ala., and marched along the south side of the river toward Corinth. General Dodge at Corinth sent out Colonel Sweeny, who met and defeated the enemy, driving him across the river. The enemy then again crossed the river near Savannah, and moving toward Jackson were met by Bob Ingersoll, whom, after something of a fight, ’tis said, they captured with his command. Trenton was then cowardly surrendered by some 250 Tennessee cavalry. Attacks were made on several other posts garrisoned by our troops, in all of which the enemy were repulsed. Altogether there has been a d___l of a time. When Van Dorn had finished his little bonfire at Holly Springs, this army was left with about five day’s rations, which we have to make do 15 at least. In order to make up the deficit in commissaries, General Grant ordered that everything eatable that could be found in the country be seized for army use. In the strip of country from Holly Springs to Coffeeville, for, say 15 miles wide, there is not enough left to feed 50 chickens a week. Colonel Dickerman and I visited Holly Springs yesterday and took a little look at the ruins. I suppose the damage to the citizens amounts to nearly as much as the Government’s loss. Most of the best and largest houses were burned. General Grant told Colonel Dickerman that our regiment would be sent to Jackson in a few days to guard that place. Well, if we have to go into winter quarters that will suit your brother very much. We will be nearer home and communication will not be so apt to be broken between us.

Tuesday, 30th—We struck our tents and started at 10 a. m. We reached Coldwater by noon and stopped for our mess. Our colonel must have been cold and in a hurry, for he gave the order, “Front right dress! Stack arms! Break ranks! Get rails and build fires! G— D—!” It amused the boys and they were not long in building fires and preparing hot coffee. At 1 o’clock we left for Moscow, Tennessee, along the railroad, and after a day’s march of twenty miles went into bivouac for the night within one mile of town.

Tuesday, 30. — Yesterday was a fine, warm, spring-like day. This month has been generally good weather. We are getting our camp in good condition. Yesterday General Ewing received orders to “go South” (as General Banks said) with the Thirtieth and Thirty-seventh Ohio and the Fourth and Eighth Virginia. This breaks up our brigade. We were not very well suited with it. General Ewing has many good qualities but thinks so well of his old regiment (the Thirtieth) that he can do no sort of justice to its rival, the Twenty-third. We are glad also to have no longer any connection with the Thirtieth. The brigade now consists of the Twenty-third, Eighty-ninth, and Ninety-second. Two new regiments with ours. Colonel Nelson H. Van Vorhes will command the brigade. He is a gentleman of character and capacity without any military experience.

I can’t help feeling the injustice in that point of view of putting him over me; but as he is my senior as colonel of a new regiment, it is according to rule and I shall cheerfully submit. Yet it looks hard that he shall get the credit or glory of what Comly, myself, and my regiment may do. For in any emergency it would be to us that all would look for action and advice. But “such is war,” and I am here to do my duty wherever I may be placed — and I mean to do it fully and cheerfully, wherever the credit may go. My impressions of Colonel Van Vorhes are favorable. I have yet to make his acquaintance. General Ewing, it is said, goes down the Mississippi. Good-bye, Thirtieth! We have been with them since they joined us at Sutton, September 8, 1861 — a year and a quarter ago.

New-York, Dec. 30th, ’62.

24 West 31 St.

My own dear Son:

… I received your very sad letter last night. I sympathize sincerely, and do not wonder that you feel sick and disheartened. However, I trust the spirit of gloom which oppressed you when you wrote, has passed by, and the brave spirit of my own boy is aroused again. Never call yourself a “despised soldier.” Neglected you have been, and we all feel it most cruelly, but “despised,” never.

No name is mentioned with greater respect than yours, about none is more indignation felt by friends than about you. Your career has been a marked and peculiar one; high titles now are no mark of merit. Gov. Buckingham said to me in the cars on my way to New York, “I want a Colonel now. I know of no one who would fill the position half as well as your son, and yet, with the desire, I cannot give it to him.” So it goes — some town-clerk or petty lawyer, having stayed at home far from a soldier’s dangers, watches, waits, and the first opportunity steps into the soldier’s honors. Mr. John Tappan, who has no particular friends in the army, says he always draws the inference if a man is promoted, he doesn’t deserve it — he has seen so few really meritorious officers treated well. I think he goes too far and do not myself wholly agree with him, still I think there is a great lack of justice. … It was certainly a great piece of self-sacrifice in you to sign a paper requesting the majority to be given to another, when you knew it had been promised you. I admire the valor of your regiment, and, as Elliott says, “you can refuse to fight a duel now, having fought in the 79th.” … I should be extremely glad, my dear son, to see you again at your books, if you can return honorably. You say you entered the army against the advice of your friends. Very true, my dear child, God knows how hard the struggle was to me, God knows how much I often now endure, yet through everything I feel comfort, nay pride, that my son’s motives are pure and conscientious. Well, the New Year is close at hand. May it open brightly for you, my own dear son. For some reason you have been preserved through many and great dangers. He who guarded has still work for His servant to do, so be of good cheer, you will not be forsaken. By-and-by you will look back on your humiliations and say, “They were hard, but they have done me good.” Beside, I can only acknowledge your disappointments. A soldier, a true man, is never humiliated by the performance of right. And yet your letter touched a responsive chord which vibrates now, for through the whole I recognize myself. May God bless you my own dear son, and grant you His assistance. . . . You could not be dearer to the heart of

Your loving

Mother.

Stuart’s Raid And Repulse From Fairfax Court House.

Camp Near Fairfax C. H., Va.,
December 29, 1862.

Dear Free Press:

We have been having rather stirring times during the past twenty-four hours. During the day on Sunday, rumors of a sharp engagement at Dumfries, twenty-five miles south of us, and the hurrying forward of troops to points threatened, reached us, and prepared us for a start. Just at night-fall came the command to fall in. Col. Blunt was absent at Alexandria, in attendance on a court martial, and Lieut. Col. Farnham was in command, by whom we were marched hastily to Fairfax Court House. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Vermont regiments and the Second Connecticut battery, attached to our brigade, moved with us. We were hurried straight through the village, and it was not until we halted behind a long breastwork, commanding the sweep of plain to the east, that we had time to ask ourselves what it all meant. The word was soon passed about that a formidable rebel raid was in progress; that a large rebel cavalry force was approaching Burke’s Station, four or five miles below us; that an attack on Fairfax Court House was anticipated, and that Gen. Stoughton with the Vermont brigade must hold the position. Three regiments and three guns of the battery were to defend the village; the Fifteenth was at Centreville on picket, and the Sixteenth, with three guns, was sent to Fairfax Station.

The Twelfth manned the centre of the breastwork, extending across the Alexandria turnpike, along which the enemy was expected to advance. Two companies of the Thirteenth and a portion of the Fourteenth were placed on our right; the remainder of the Thirteenth on our left, and the balance of the Fourteenth a short distance in our rear. A brass howitzer and two rifled pieces were placed on the turnpike. Companies B and G of the Twelfth, under command of Captain Paul, were sent forward half a mile on the road, and a squad of the First Virginia (union) cavalry was placed still further out.

So arranged, we waited hour after hour of the bright moonlight night. Occasionally a mounted orderly dashed up to Gen. Stoughton with accounts of the rebel advance, but nothing specially exciting took place till about eleven, when suddenly the situation became interesting. First came a courier with a message for Gen. Stoughton, whose reply, distinctly audible to our portion of the line, was: ”Tell him my communication with Gen. Abercrombie is cut off; but I can hold my own here, and will do it.” Then came orders to load, and instructions for the front rank, —your humble servant was fortunate enough to be in that rank—to do the firing, if ordered to fire, and the rear rank to do the loading, passing the loaded pieces to their file leaders. Then came a dash of horsemen down the road, riding helter-skelter and “the devil take the hindmost.” We did not know then what it meant, but learned afterwards that it was the cavalry picket, driven in and frightened half to death by the rebels. The stir among our officers which followed told us, however, that it meant something. Col. Farnham rode along the line, giving the men their instructions. Major Kingsley added some words of caution and injunctions to fire low, and General Stoughton, riding up, said: “You are to hold this entrenchment, my men. Keep cool, never flinch, and behave worthy of the good name won for Vermont troops by the First brigade. File closers, do your duty, and if any man attempts to run, use your bayonets!” The captains, each in his own way, added their encouragements. The men on their part needed no incentive; and I have no doubt, had its possession been contested, that breastwork would have been held in a way which would have brought no disgrace on our Green Mountain State.

We had waited in silence a few minutes, when our ears caught a faint tramp of cavalry, half a mile away where our skirmishers were posted; then some scattered pistol shots; then shrill cheers as of a cavalry squadron on a charge; and then the flash and rattle of the first hostile volley fired by any portion of the Twelfth in this war. It was a splendid volley, too. Both companies fired at once, and their guns went off like one piece. The effects of the volley were not learned till daylight; but I may as well anticipate my story, and give them here. They were eight rebel troopers wounded and removed by their comrades—this our men learned from a man in front of whose house, a little ways on, the rebels rallied —three horses killed; three saddles, a rebel carbine, manufactured in Richmond, and a Colt’s revolver, picked up on the ground; and a horse, with U. S. on his flank, found riderless in the road and recaptured. The rebel troopers scattered in all directions but rallied further back. Our men expected a second charge, and were ready for it, but after a short halt the rebels turned and rapidly retreated.

At the breastwork we knew nothing of these details. We heard the firing, and taking it for the opening drops of the shower waited patiently for what should come next. Nothing came, however. All was still again. In half an hour camp fires began to show themselves about a mile in front, and our artillery was ordered to try its hand on them. Bang went the guns, under our noses, and whiz went the shells, but they drew no response. A reconnoissance was next ordered. Capt. Ormsbee of Co. G—one of our best captains—with 30 men of his own and Company B marched over to the fires. They were found to be fires of brush built to deceive us. A free negro, whose house was near by, informed Capt. O. that the rebels were under command of Generals Fitzhugh Lee and Stuart, both of whom had been in his house an hour before.

They had, he said, two brigades of cavalry and some artillery, and they had pushed on to the north. This news was taken to mean that they were making a circuit and would probably shortly attack from the north or west. We were accordingly double-quicked back to Fairfax Court House, and were posted (I speak now only of the Twelfth) on the brow of a hill, in good position to receive a charge of cavalry. Here we waited through the rest of the night. The moon set; the air grew cold; the ground froze under our feet; but we had nothing to do but to shiver and nod over our guns, till daylight. At sunrise we were glad to be marched back to camp, and to throw ourselves into our tents, where most of the men have slept through the day, taking rest while they can get it, for we are still ordered to be in readiness for instant marching. I doubt if we shall go out to-night, however. We hear to-day that the rebel cavalry, having made one of the most daring raids of the war, to within a dozen miles of Washington, have pushed on to Leesburg,[1] and will doubtless make a successful escape through the mountains.

I have given so much space to this little skirmish because it is the thing of greatest excitement with us at present, and not, of course, for its essential importance. But it has been an interesting bit of experience and not without value in its effect upon the discipline of the brigade. It has added to the confidence of the men in their officers, from Gen. Stoughton down, and I guess the men did not disappoint their commanders. To-day our colonel is again with us. He started with the adjutant to join the regiment last night by way of the turnpike, which was then held for two miles or more by the rebels, but was advised by Capt. Erhardt, in command of a squadron of the Vermont cavalry at Annandale, not to attempt to go through, and wisely took his advice. It would have been sorrow for us had he been taken by Stuart’s troopers.

December 30th.

We have spent an undisturbed night, and I have time this morning to add one or two more particulars of the affair of night before last. Our pickets have taken four or five prisoners of the rebel cavalry. One was a hard looking, butternut-clad trooper, apparently just recovering from a bad spree; he accounted for his used up appearance by averring that they had been six days in the saddle. The others were taken by the Vermont cavalry, and will go part way toward balancing the loss of Lieut. Cummings of Company D of the Vermont cavalry and three of his men, who were out on picket and were taken by Stuart’s men. It is ascertained that the forces of Stuart and Fitzhugh Lee made a circuit around us, passing between us and Washington and round to Chantilly on the west of us, where a body of 300 cavalry, including a portion of the Vermont cavalry, from Drainsville, came upon them; but finding themselves in the presence of a greatly superior force, retreated. It was reported in Washington, and fully believed by many, that our whole brigade had been captured.

Reinforcements have now been sent out to our support, and we anticipate no serious danger. Still affairs are in a rather feverish state, and we may be marched in any direction at any moment.

The weather is remarkable—days very mild, with magnificent sunshine; nights cooler, but still not much like Vermont.

Yours, B.


[1] This was erroneous. Stuart returned by way of Warrenton to Culpeper Court House.

Stoneman Station, Va.,
Tuesday, Dec. 30, 1862.

Dear Brother and Sister:—

I have been hard up for stationery and stamps lately, more so than ever before. This month nearly gone makes six months for which we have not received a cent of pay, consequently there is very little money in camp. The sutler won’t come where there is no money, and of course we can’t buy anything. You don’t know anything about it at home. All you want is a little money, and paper, ink, pen and postage is forthcoming. But I couldn’t get it now if I had $26, unless the regiments had money, too, for there is none to buy—no sutlers. Postage stamps we have to send home for. Sutlers won’t sell them ; there’s no profit. I got half a quire of paper—this is the last sheet—out of a knapsack on the battlefield, and it has lasted me till now, and I just found a man who has a bottle of ink, so I’m all right for this letter, but the next, ah, me. the next!

I see plainly that I have not kept you posted in regard to my own affairs. I have taken it for granted that you understood more than you do, so I must answer some of your questions. I have acted as chief bugler since we left the Peninsula, but I did not stay at brigade headquarters till we left Antietam. My duties are to give the signals for morning and evening roll calls, guard mounting, drills, dress parade, etc. I have a programme furnished by the assistant adjutant general and keep my own time, so that I may say as long as I attend to my duties strictly I am my own master. For instance, the time arrives for “tattoo” in the evening. I take my bugle, sound the brigade call, “Dan, Dan, Dan, Butterfield, Butterfield, Dan, Dan, Dan, Butterfield, Butterfield.” and the tattoo. After I finish, the regimental buglers in each regiment sound their regimental call, and the tattoo. Whatever call is sounded from headquarters they repeat. When I first came the adjutant general used to tell me when to sound, but finding I attended to my business, he left it all to me, so I am giving good satisfaction and like my place well.

Ollie M. thought I was a sergeant, and congratulated me on my promotion. According to the regulations I should be, but I did not enlist as a musician and so I do not expect promotion as such. I should receive $20 per month, but doubt my getting over $13.

Three of us, two orderlies and myself, have put up a log building five logs high, and covered it with ponchos, got a fireplace and everything comfortable, and now we’ve got orders to march.

Memphis, Tuesday, Dec. 30. Awakened by the morning gun at the fort; fell in for roll call, Sergeant Hamilton acting orderly. Saw a Memphis Bulletin of the 30th, the first newspaper since that bearing the date of the 12th. Watered my horses, then rode into the fort with Colburn. Met Milton Campbell of the 23rd Wisconsin Regiment. The Regiment had gone down the river, leaving twenty-nine convalescents behind. The boys were furnished with a pass to go to town, others taking leg bail, by night. Several heavy heads. Drew six days’ rations.