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

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Colonel Lyons.

Fort Donelson, June 12, 1863.—Nothing but the regular routine has transpired today. There has been no chance to send off a mail for several days. I will send the Nevada down when she returns from Clarksville. There are several boats on the shoals below and we have to stop all the boats from above to take part of their cargoes.

We have not had any bushwhacking about us since I have been in command, and I do not expect much of it. I tell the citizens that they can have the burden of a military occupation of their country very light or they can have it very heavy, just as they please. They desire to take it light.

Captain Morrell is quite feeble and has asked for leave of absence. He will probably get it.

June 12th. All is ready for our scouting trip, rations, with a good supply of ammunition, and equipment all in good condition. Tonight finds us still in camp, ready to start.

12th. Henry Drake quite bad with abscess on his knee. Rob and I sat up with him. Wrote a line home and to Fannie.

June 12. — We (the staff) started at 5.15, having had our tents pitched and baggage all packed beforehand. We went at a gallop through woods and stubble down to Stoneman’s Station, where we struck off for Berea Church. Just before reaching the church an orderly rode up with my commission, and a note from Colonel Locke inclosing $8, which was my share of Norton’s mess-bill, which he has since paid. We found General Meade’s headquarters near Berea Church, and here we had a lunch. The troops halted here, and just before starting, a deserter was shot in accordance with the sentence of a court-martial. He belonged to General Wadsworth’s division, and I carried the order to the general to have the affair hurried up.[1] At 12.30 we started for Deep Run, where the troops arrived at 5 P.M., having made a march of 22 miles. The day was warm and the roads extremely dusty. Spent the night near Deep Run, in almost precisely the same spot where I was with General Porter last August.


[1] It seemed rather hard to march a man all the morning and then shoot him at noon, but this was one of the hardships of war. Although I have seen lots of men killed, I could not wait to see this affair come off, — it was too sickening.

Friday, 12th—Our brigade receiving orders, moved out about a mile and again went into camp in a large hollow; we fixed up bunks and made a nice camp. I was out last night again with a large detail from our brigade digging rifle pits, working all night with rifle in one hand and pick in the other, digging trenches to protect ourselves in the daytime. There was skirmishing and heavy cannonading all day, and after night by their lighted fuses we sometimes could see the shells from our mortar boats coming over the city and down to the ground before they exploded.

12th June (Friday).—I called at an exchange office this morning, and asked the value of gold: they offered me six to one for it. I went to a slave auction at 11; but they had been so quick about it that the whole affair was over before I arrived, although I was only ten minutes late. The negroes—about fifteen men, three women, and three children—were seated on benches, looking perfectly contented and indifferent I saw the buyers opening the mouths and showing the teeth of their new purchases to their friends in a very business-like manner. This was certainly not a very agreeable spectacle to an Englishman, and I know that many Southerners participate in the same feeling; for I have often been told by people that they had never seen a negro sold by auction, and never wished to do so. It is impossible to mention names in connection with such a subject, but I am perfectly aware that many influential men in the South feel humiliated and annoyed with several of the incidents connected with slavery; and I think that if the Confederate States were left alone, the system would be much modified and amended, although complete emancipation cannot be expected; for the Southerners believe it to be as impracticable to cultivate cotton on a large scale in the South, without forced black labour, as the British have found it to produce sugar in Jamaica; and they declare that the example the English have set them of sudden emancipation in that island is by no means encouraging. They say that that magnificent colony, formerly so wealthy and prosperous, is now nearly valueless—the land going out of cultivation—the Whites ruined—the Blacks idle, slothful, and supposed to be in a great measure relapsing into their primitive barbarism.

At 12 o’clock I called by appointment on Captain Tucker, on board the Chicora.[1] The accommodation below is good, considering the nature and peculiar shape of the vessel; but in hot weather the quarters are very close and unhealthy, for which reason she is moored alongside a wharf on which her crew live.

Captain Tucker expressed great confidence in his vessel during calm weather, and when not exposed to a plunging fire. He said he should not hesitate to attack even the present blockading squadron, if it were not for certain reasons which he explained to me.

Captain Tucker expects great results from certain newly-invented submarine inventions, which he thinks are sure to succeed. He told me that, in the April attack, these two gunboats were placed in rear of Fort Sumter, and if, as was anticipated, the Monitors had managed to force their way past Sumter, they would have been received from different directions by the powerful battery Bee on Sullivan’s Island, by this island, Forts Pinckney and Ripley, by the two gunboats, and by Fort Johnson on James Island—a nest of hornets from which they would perhaps never have returned.

At 1 P.M. I called on General Beauregard, who is a man of middle height, about forty-seven years of age. He would be very youthful in appearance were it not for the colour of his hair, which is much greyer than his earlier photographs represent. Some persons account for the sudden manner in which his hair turned grey by allusions to his cares and anxieties during the last two years; but the real and less romantic reason is to be found in the rigidity of the Yankee blockade, which interrupts the arrival of articles of toilette. He has a long straight nose, handsome brown eyes, and a dark mustache without whiskers, and his manners are extremely polite. He is a New Orleans Creole, and French is his native language.

He was extremely civil to me, and arranged that I should see some of the land fortifications to-morrow. He spoke to me of the inevitable necessity, sooner or later, of a war between the Northern States and Great Britain; and he remarked that, if England would join the South at once, the Southern armies, relieved of the present blockade and enormous Yankee pressure, would be able to march right into the Northern States, and, by occupying their principal cities, would give the Yankees so much employment that they would be unable to spare many men for Canada. He acknowledged that in Mississippi General Grant had displayed uncommon vigour, and met with considerable success, considering that he was a man of no great military capacity. He said that Johnston was certainly acting slowly and with much caution; but then he had not the veteran troops of Bragg or Lee. He told me that he (Beauregard) had organised both the Virginian and Tennessean armies. Both are composed of the same materials, both have seen much service, though, on the whole, the first had been the most severely tried. He said that in the Confederate organisation a brigade is composed of four regiments, a division ought to number 10,000 men, and a corps d’armée 40,000. But I know that neither Polk nor Hardee have got anything like that number.[2]

At 5.30 P.M. the firing on Morris Island became distinctly audible. Captain Mitchell had evidently commenced his operations against Little Polly.

Whilst I was walking on the battery this evening, a gentleman came up to me and recalled himself to my recollection as Mr Meyers of the Sumter, whom I had known at Gibraltar a year ago. This was one of the two persons who were arrested at Tangier by the acting United States consul in such an outrageous manner. He told me that he had been kept in irons during his whole voyage, in the merchant vessel, to the United States; and, in spite of the total illegality of his capture on neutral ground, he was imprisoned for four months in Fort Warren, and not released until regularly exchanged as a prisoner of war. Mr Meyers was now most anxious to rejoin Captain Semmes, or some other rover.

I understand that when the attack took place in April, the garrison of Fort Sumter received the Monitors with great courtesy as they steamed up. The three flagstaffs were dressed with flags, the band from the top of the fort played the national airs, and a salute of twenty-one guns was fired, after which the entertainment provided was of a more solid description.


[1] I have omitted a description of this little gunboat, as she is still doing good service in Charleston harbour—November 1863.

[2] A division does nearly always number 10,000 men, but then there are generally only two or three divisions in a corps d’ armée.

June 12 — Still on picket at Brandy Station.

Before Vicksburg, Friday, June 12. Watered and grazed my team while I picked a can full of blackberries, made a luxury for dinner. Called on guard at 1 P. M.—third relief. Visited by Sergt. J. Savage of the 23rd Wisconsin. Stayed nearly all the afternoon. Pleasant chat. Rebels opened fire at about 4 P. M. with a mortar, throwing three or four shells over us. Found to my sorrow that my needle book and Testament had dropped through my side pocket where I always carried them. Too bad, for they were gifts of two noble helpers, a mother and sister. I will much miss them.

June 12, Friday. The interference of Members of Congress in the petty appointments and employment of laborers in the navy yards is annoying and pernicious. The public interest is not regarded by the Members, but they crowd partisan favorites for mechanical positions in place of good mechanics and workmen, and when I refuse to entertain their propositions, they take offense. I can’t help it if they do. I will not prostitute my trust to their schemes and selfish personal partisanship.

June 12—Left at 5 A.M., marched over part of the Blue Ridge, and crossed the head of the Rappahannock River—eighteen miles to-day. We marched through Front Royal, where the ladies treated us very good. Camped one mile north side of town, and waded the Shaninoar, both prongs.