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

Monday, June 17, 2013

June 17.—A body of rebels crossed the Ohio River and advanced on Corydon, Paoli, and Orleans, Indiana. At the latter place they were met by the Paoli home guards, who dispersed and drove them back to the Ohio River, where, being prevented recrossing by the presence of an armed steamer, the whole band was captured.— (Doc. 12.)

—A Union mass meeting was held at Concord, N. H., probably not less than twenty thousand people being present. A procession composed of military and civic organizations and the citizens of the State generally, with numerous bands of music, marched through the principal streets to State House Square, where the meeting organized by choosing Ira Perley, President, with twenty Vice-Presidents.

A series of resolutions were adopted, pledging support to the Government in putting down the rebellion. The fourth resolve was as follows:

“That the men of the loyal States, who, by word or deed, directly or indirectly, under whatever pretence or disguise, discourage the recruiting and maintaining of our army and navy, or in any other way lend their aid to schemes calculated to embarrass the Government in this crisis of the national life, ally themselves with the rebellion and are traitors at heart.”

Eloquent addresses were made by Major-General Butler, Montgomery Blair, General Hamilton, Ira Perley and others.

—The Seventh, Eighth, and Seventy-first regiments of New-York State militia, left New-York for the seat of war in Maryland and Pennsylvania.—Robert Toombs delivered a speech at Sparta, Ga., on “The state of the country.”— General Blunt issued an order forbidding the circulation of the Caucasian, Chicago Times, Columbus Crisis, Cincinnati Enquirer and New York World in his department.—A fight took place at Aldie, Va., between the National cavalry under General Gregg, and the rebels under General J. E. B. Stuart—(Doc. 74.)

—A body of rebel cavalry crossed the Potomac near the Point of Rocks, and moved upon that place, at which there was no force of defence, except Captain Means’s irregular local cavalry. All these were captured, including the Captain himself.

Simultaneously another body of the enemy, mounted, crossed the river higher up, and attacked Major Coles’s cavalry at Catoctin Station, about seven or eight miles east of Harper’s Ferry.

About the same time a part of the enemy’s cavalry charged upon a military train, and succeeded in its capture. It consisted of one first class locomotive and about twenty-three cars, returning from Harper’s Ferry to Baltimore, after having carried provisions to supply the garrison during the day. Fortunately this was the last train of a convoy of five, the others having just preceded it in safety, and all reached Baltimore. Of the captured train were several cars loaded with produce that was being rescued from danger from the vicinity of Harper’s Ferry, also some fifteen passengers who took advantage of the train either to escape, or else business connected with the army required them to come down the road.—Baltimore American, June 18.

—The iron-clad gunboat Chattahoochee, belonging to the rebels, was destroyed at Chattahoochee, Florida, by the bursting of her boiler. A correspondent of the Charleston Courier gives the following account of the affair:

“The schooner Fashion, at anchor in the Chattahoochee River, twenty-five miles above Apalachicola, was loading with cotton, and intended to run the blockade. She had received sixty bales of Sea-Island cotton, and was awaiting for another arrival from ——, when a spy or some traitorous person conveyed the fact to the enemy’s fleet blockading. The result was, that the enemy sent nine launches with armed men, captured the schooner with the cotton on board, and took her to the fleet. When the news reached Chattahoochee, Lieutenant Guthric, commanding the confederate States ironclad gunboat Chattahoochee, ordered steam to be raised, and was determined to pass the obstructions in the river, if possible, with a view of attacking the United States steamer, and endeavor to relieve the Fashion. Just as the steamer was leaving her anchorage, her boilers exploded, and twelve persons were killed, while several others were badly scalded.”

—A portion of two companies of the Ninth regiment of Kansas volunteers, numbering seventy men, while on the march from Paola to Kansas City, were fired on at a point about four miles south-west of Westport, Mo., by a large party of rebels in ambush, and suffered a loss of ten killed and seventeen wounded and missing. The National troops who were under the command of Captain Fletcher, were obliged to fall back to Olathe.

—H. Pinkney Walker, Her Britannic Majesty’s Vice Consul, at Charleston, S. C., having submitted to the Secretary of State satisfactory evidence of his appointment as Acting Consul for the States of North and South-Carolina, is recognized as such by the government of the confederate States.—Lynchburgh Republican, June 18.

—The rebel ram Atlanta was captured in Warsaw Sound, Ga,, by the National monitor Weehawken, under the command of Captain John Rodgers.—(Doc. 18.)

—Cumberland, Maryland, was occupied during a portion of the day by a party of Imboden’s rebel cavalry, who visited the various stores in town, and made large purchases of boots, shoes, and clothing, paying for the same in rebel scrip, at a heavy discount. Several young men belonging to the town joined the rebels and left with them on their departure, which took place at an early hour in the forenoon.—Cumberland Union, June 20.

June 17. —We are still in the front of the advance, living in dens and caves of the earth, maintaining our incessant skirmish, and occasionally losing men from the regiment. We go unwashed, uncombed, unshaven, creeping and stooping, with no baggage but the clothes on our backs, and they torn everywhere by brambles, and sometimes by shot. My only portfolio now is my cartridge-box, where I find room for a few sheets, and my pencil, among my sixty rounds, writing my record upon its broad leathern flap. This afternoon, there has been a flag of truce; during which they have buried dead, and even removed wounded men, who have lain on the field since Sunday! It is now Wednesday. Company D has assisted in burying a hundred and fourteen corpses. I have just seen Cyrus Stowell, who tells me a terrible story. The decomposition of the bodies was so advanced, that the flesh slipped from the arms as our men tried to raise them, the heads fell away from the trunks sometimes, and the worms crawled from the dead upon the hands of the living! Unspeakably dreadful!

The rebels now use little artillery against us, but mostly rifles. Tremendous fellows they are. During the flag of truce this afternoon, plenty of them have been in plain sight—slovenly-looking butternuts—about the few tents and clumps of old buildings inside their parapet, and, indeed, in the open space between the two armies.

I have written about the assault of the 14th inst. Never come to a private soldier to pass judgment on a military act; for his horizon is too circumscribed to comprehend the circumstances. But the judgment of us, the rank and file, upon the matter, is this, — let it go for what it is worth, — that the men did their part: they showed willingness and bravery, but it was misdirected. Our men could see the charging regiments begin their rush, way back by an old chimney to our left here, — too far, too far, by a long distance, considering the difficult nature of the ground to be traversed. We heard the poor fellows’ cheers as they started; but the rebs heard it too, and could be seen rushing to the point of their works, against which the assaulting regiments were to dash. Their attention was attracted by our unnecessary demonstrations, and our men received more terrible volleys. The result was, about fifteen hundred lost to us, by the last accounts.

We advanced in the battle as skirmishers, as I have written; and when the roar and heat were over, and the tide of Federal energy and valor had ebbed again from off the field, —leaving it wet with red pools, and strewn with bloody drift, — it was given to our brigade to stay in our steps, to hold the tangled ravines and slopes we had conquered, under the daily and nightly volleys of the Mississippi, Alabama, and Arkansas regiments, who, we hear, hold the breast-work in our front. Now and then we lose a man, killed or wounded; but we believe our loss would have been quadrupled, were it not that our colonel has handled his command so prudently and skilfully.

So far, my hands have no stain of human blood upon them. Our rifles are always close at hand, loaded, to be ready against any sortie, or if we should suddenly have to charge. The regiment, generally, have practised much against the sand-bags and loop-holes of the enemy’s parapet; but we do not fire until some hostile hand seems likely to get the flag out of Wilson’s grasp.

Until within a day or two, my situation has been hard. I draw my rationswith Company D, and they have been posted at some distance from the ravine of the color-guard. I could not always go for my food at the right time, — sometimes could not go at all: at any rate, it was always at a risk; for the only path was the obstructed, bullet-swept track leading from our ravine to the woods in the rear. Irregularity in eating, abstinence, exposure to the heat of burning days and the night-damps, have rather affected my condition. To the sights of war we have all become used, and can see the worst without sickening. Every day, gaping wounds and mangled death are borne past us, on stretchers, out of the rifle-pits and trenches. The surgeons and chaplain remain at the old camp in the woods which we left the midnight preceding the assault, and that has become a city of refuge for the sick. One tired boy after another has gone there, from the heat and damp at the front, until the companies have grown smaller than ever. The march from the Courtableau to Brashear City brought down numbers. Numbers have fallen sick here, so that our company has scarcely more than twenty on duty; and other companies are nearly as much reduced.

June 17 Battle of Aldie, prisoners

 

Confederate prisoners captured at cavalry fight at Aldie, Va., June, 1864; photo by Timothy H. O’Sullivan; June 17, 1863 (date wrong on LOC page)

17th. A very hot, sultry, uncomfortable day. Suffered much from the extreme heat. Passed part of the day with Henry. Finished Emma Bartlett or “Prejudice and Fanaticism”, a book borrowed from Mrs. Vickery. Treats some of slavery, both sides, very good.

17th June (Wednesday).—We reached Petersburgh at 3 A.M., and had to get out and traverse this town in carts, after which we had to lie down in the road until some other cars were opened. We left Petersburgh at 5 A.M. and arrived at Richmond at 7 A.M., having taken forty-one hours coming from Charleston. The railroad between Petersburgh and Richmond is protected by extensive field-works, and the woods have been cut down to give range. An irruption of the enemy in this direction has evidently been contemplated; and we met a brigade of infantry half-way between Petersburgh and Richmond on its way to garrison the latter place, as the Yankees are reported to be menacing in that neighbourhood.

The scenery near Richmond is very pretty, and rather English-looking. The view of the James River from the railway bridge is quite beautiful, though the water is rather low at present. The weather was extremely hot and oppressive, and, for the first time since I left Havana, I really suffered from the heat.

At 10 A.M. I called on General Cooper, Adjutant-General to the Confederate forces, and senior general in the army. He is brother-in-law to Mr Mason, the Southern Commissioner in London. I then called upon Mr Benjamin, the Secretary of State, who made an appointment with me to meet him at his house at 7 P.M. The public offices are handsome stone buildings, and seemed to be well arranged for business. I found at least as much difficulty in gaining access to the great men as there would be in European countries; but when once admitted, I was treated with the greatest courtesy. The anterooms were crowded with people patiently waiting for an audience.

The streets of Richmond are named and numbered in a most puzzling manner, and the greater part of the houses are not numbered at all It is the most hilly city I have seen in America, and its population is unnaturally swollen since the commencement of the war. The fact of there being abundance of ice appeared to me an immense luxury, as I had never seen any before in the South; but it seems that the winters are quite severe in Northern Virginia.

I was sorry to hear in the highest quarters the gloomiest forebodings with regard to the fate of Vicksburg. This fortress is in fact given up, and all now despair of General Johnston’s being able to effect anything towards its relief.

I kept my appointment with Mr Benjamin at 7 o’clock. He is a stout dapper little man, evidently of Hebrew extraction, and of undoubted talent. He is a Louisianian, and was senator for that state in the old United States Congress, and I believe he is accounted a very clever lawyer and a brilliant orator. He told me that he had filled the onerous post of Secretary of War during the first seven months of the Secession, and I can easily believe that he found it no sinecure. We conversed for a long time about the origin of secession, which he indignantly denied was brought about, as the Yankees assert, by the interested machinations of individuals. He declared that, for the last ten years, the Southern statesmen had openly stated in Congress what would take place; but the Northerners never would believe they were in earnest, and had often replied by the taunt, “The South was so bound to, and dependent on, the North, that she couldn’t be kicked out of the Union.”

He said that the Southern armies had always been immensely outnumbered in all their battles, and that until recently General Lee could never muster more than 60,000 effective men. He confessed that the Southern forces consisted altogether of about 350,000 to 400,000 men; and when I asked him where they all were, he replied that, on account of the enormous tract of country to be defended, and the immense advantages the enemy possessed by his facilities for sea and river transportation, the South was obliged to keep large bodies of men unemployed, and at great distances from each other, awaiting the sudden invasions or raids to which they were continually exposed. Besides which, the Northern troops, which numbered (he supposed) 600,000 men, having had as yet but little defensive warfare, could all be employed for aggressive purposes.

He asserted that England has still, and always had had it, in her power to terminate the war by recognition, and by making a commercial treaty with the South; and he denied that the Yankees really would dare to go to war with Great Britain for doing so, however much they might swagger about it: he said that recognition would not increase the Yankee hatred of England, for this, whether just or unjust, was already as intense as it could possibly be. I then alluded to the supposed ease with which they could overrun Canada, and to the temptation which its unprotected towns must offer to the large numbers of Irish and German mercenaries in the Northern armies. He answered, “They probably could not do that so easily as some people suppose, and they know perfectly well that you could deprive them of California (a far more serious loss) with much greater ease.” This consideration, together with the certainty of an entire blockade of their ports, the total destruction of their trade, and an invasion on a large scale by the Southern troops, in reality prevents the possibility of their declaring war upon England at the present time, any more than they did at the period of their great national humiliation in the Mason-Slidell affair.

Mr Benjamin told me that his property had lately been confiscated in New Orleans, and that his two sisters had been turned, neck and crop, into the streets there, with only one trunk, which they had been forced to carry themselves. Every one was afraid to give them shelter, except an Englishwoman, who protected them until they could be got out of the city.

Talking of the just admiration which the English newspapers accorded to Stonewall Jackson, he expressed, however, his astonishment that they should have praised so highly his strategic skill in outmanœuvring Pope at Manassas, and Hooker at Chancellorsville, totally ignoring that in both cases the movements were planned and ordered by General Lee, for whom (Mr Benjamin said) Jackson had the most “childlike reverence.”

Mr Benjamin complained of Mr Russell of the ‘Times’ for holding him up to fame as a “gambler” —a story which he understood Mr Russell had learnt from Mr Charles Sumner at Washington. But even supposing that this was really the case, Mr Benjamin was of opinion that such a revelation of his private life was in extremely bad taste, after Mr Russell had partaken of his (Mr Benjamin’s) hospitality at Mongomery.

He said the Confederates were more amused than annoyed at the term “rebel,” which was so constantly applied to them; but he only wished mildly to remark, that in order to be a “rebel,” a person must rebel against some one who has a right to govern him; and he thought it would be very difficult to discover such a right as existing in the Northern over the Southern States.

In order to prepare a treaty of peace, he said, “It would only be necessary to write on a blank sheet of paper the words ‘self-government.’ Let the Yankees accord that, and they might fill up the paper in any manner they chose. We don’t want any State that doesn’t want us; but we only wish that each State should decide fairly upon its own destiny. All we are struggling for is to be let alone.”

At 8 P.M. Mr Benjamin walked with me to the President’s dwelling, which is a private house at the other end of the town. I had tea there, and uncommonly good tea too—the first I had tasted in the Confederacy. Mrs Davis was unfortunately unwell and unable to see me.

Mr Jefferson Davis struck me as looking older than I expected. He is only fifty-six, but his face is emaciated, and much wrinkled. He is nearly six feet high, but is extremely thin, and stoops a little. His features are good, especially his eye, which is very bright, and full of life and humour. I was afterwards told he had lost the sight of his left eye from a recent illness. He wore a linen coat and grey trousers, and he looked what he evidently is, a well-bred gentleman. Nothing can exceed the charm of his manner, which is simple, easy, and most fascinating. He conversed with me for a long time, and agreed with Benjamin that the Yankees did not really intend to go to war with England if she recognised the South; and he said that, when the inevitable smash came—and that separation was an accomplished fact—the State of Maine would probably try to join Canada, as most of the intelligent people in that state have a horror of being “under the thumb of Massachusetts.” He added, that Maine was inhabited by a hardy, thrifty, seafaring population, with different ideas to the people in the other New England states.

When I spoke to him of the wretched scenes I had witnessed in his own State (Mississippi), and of the miserable, almost desperate, situation in which I had found so many unfortunate women, who had been left behind by their male relations; and when I alluded in admiration to the quiet, calm, uncomplaining manner in which they bore their sufferings and their grief, he said, with much feeling, that he always considered silent despair the most painful description of misery to witness, in the same way that he thought mute insanity was the most awful form of madness.

He spoke to me of Grenfell, who, he said, seemed to be serving the Confederacy in a disinterested and loyal manner. He had heard much of his gallantry and good services, and he was very sorry when I told him of Grenfell’s quarrel with the civil power.

He confirmed the truth of my remark, that a Confederate general is either considered an Admirable Crichton by the soldiers, or else abused as everything bad; and he added, the misfortune was, that it is absolutely necessary, in order to insure success, that a general must obtain and preserve this popularity and influence with his men, who were, however, generally very willing to accord their confidence to any officer deserving of it.

With regard to the black-flag-and-no-quarter agitation, he said people would talk a great deal, and even go into action determined to give no quarter; “but,” he added, “I have yet to hear of Confederate soldiers putting men to death who have thrown down their arms and held up their hands.”

He told me that Lord Russell confessed that the impartial carrying out of the neutrality laws had pressed hard upon the South; and Mr Davis asserted that the pressure might have been equalised, and yet retained its impartiality, if Great Britain, instead of closing her ports, had opened them to the prizes of both parties; but I answered that perhaps this might be over-doing it a little on the other side.

When I took my leave about 9 o’clock, the President asked me to call upon him again. I don’t think it is possible for any one to have an interview with him without going away most favourably impressed by his agreeable, unassuming manners, and by the charm of his conversation. Whilst walking home, Mr Benjamin told me that Mr Davis’s military instincts still predominate, and that his eager wish was to have joined the army instead of being elected President.

During my travels, many people have remarked to me that Jefferson Davis seems in a peculiar manner adapted for his office. His military education at West Point rendered him intimately acquainted with the higher officers of the army; and his post of Secretary of War under the old Government brought officers of all ranks under his immediate personal knowledge and supervision. No man could have formed a more accurate estimate of their respective merits. This is one of the reasons which gave the Confederates such an immense start in the way of generals; for having formed his opinion with regard to appointing an officer, Mr Davis is always most determined to carry out his intention in spite of every obstacle. His services in the Mexican war gave him the prestige of a brave man and a good soldier. His services as a statesman pointed him out as the only man who, by his unflinching determination and administrative talent, was able to control the popular wil. People speak of any misfortune happening to him as an irreparable evil too dreadful to contemplate.

Before we reached the Spottswood Hotel, we met ——, to whom Mr Benjamin introduced me. They discussed the great topic of the day—viz., the recapture of Winchester by General Ewell, the news of which had just arrived, and they both expressed their regret that General Milroy should have escaped. It appears that this Yankee commander, for his alleged crimes, had been put hors de la loi by the Confederates in the same manner as General Butler. —— said to me, “We hope he may not be taken alive; but if he is, we will not shrink from the responsibility of putting him to death.”

Wednesday, 17th—Our mortar boats are shelling the rebels day and night, and the constant roar of cannon is something dreadful to listen to. Our regiment drew some clothing from the quartermaster today. We just learned that we are to remain out here on picket. The boys are having easy times picking blackberries and plums. They are quite plentiful, and come as a Godsend to us. Water is becoming very scarce, for the branches which we have to depend upon have now stopped running, and all we can get is the water left in the sink holes in the creek bottom.

Before Vicksburg, Wednesday, June 17. David Evans obtained permission from Captain to go in search of his brother to the 20th Iowa and myself to accompany him. As soon as breakfast was over we mounted our horses and started down through the hollow to the left, and after six miles travelling through a continual string of bayonets and tents, we found them [20th Iowa] with the 20th Wisconsin, direct from the Army of the Frontier, encamped with the low white dog tents. He found his brother. Joyful meeting of course.

After two hours’ stay we started back. Called at the 23rd Wisconsin to see friends and arrived in camp by 3 o’clock, after having been within three-quarters of a mile to the extreme left of the line. The line on the left we found much weaker than here. No battery planted as yet in formidable position. A 120-pounder opened this morning, dismounting one piece as we watered. Called at the Battery hospital to see D. J. Davis who was a little better. Mortar firing continuing; we replied with a will. Not much damage done, I think.

June 17 — We renewed our march this morning toward Warrenton. We forded the Rappahannock at Waterloo, at Warrenton turning and moving northward, and to-night we are camped near Salem, on the Manassas Gap Railroad. The country between Warrenton and Salem is rolling and hilly.

June 17th.

I must write something somewhere, I don’t care if dinner is ready, and Brother’s “safe old Secesh “downstairs! Lydia has another boy! Letter has just come, and I am demented about my new godchild! There now! feel better!

One more word — it shall be called “Howell.” Dear, blessed little baby! how I shall love it!

June 17, Wednesday. Had a telegram at ten last night from Mr. Felton, President of the Philadelphia & Baltimore Railroad, requesting that a gunboat might be sent to Havre de Grace to protect the Company’s ferryboat and property. Says he has information that the Rebels intend going down the river to seize it.

I went forthwith to the War Department to ascertain whether there was really any such alarming necessity, for it seemed to me, from all I had been able to learn, that it was a panic invocation. Found the President and Stanton at the War Department, jubilant over intelligence just received that no Rebels had reached Carlisle, as had been reported, and it was believed they had not even entered Pennsylvania. Stanton threw off his reserve, and sneered and laughed at Felton’s call for a gunboat. Soon a messenger came in from General Schenck, who declares no Rebels have crossed the Potomac, that the stragglers and baggage-trains of Milroy had run away in affright, and squads of them, on different parallel roads, had alarmed each other, and each fled in terror with all speed to Harrisburg. This alone was asserted to be the basis of the great panic which had alarmed Pennsylvania and the country.

The President was relieved and in excellent spirits. Stanton was apparently feeling well, but I could not assure myself he was wholly relieved of the load which had been hanging upon him. The special messenger brought a letter to Stanton, which he read, but was evidently unwilling to communicate its contents, even to the President, who asked about it. Stanton wrote a few lines, which he gave to the officer, who left. General Meigs came in about this time, and I was sorry to hear Stanton communicate an exaggerated account of Milroy’s disaster, who, he said, had not seen a fight or even an enemy. Meigs indignantly denied the statement, and said Milroy himself had communicated the fact that he had fought a battle and escaped. While he (Meigs) did not consider Milroy a great general, or a man of very great ability, he believed him to be truthful and brave, and if General Schenck’s messenger said there had been no fight he disbelieved him. Stanton insisted that was what the officer (whom I think he called Payson) said. I told him I did not so understand the officer. The subject was then dropped; but the conversation gave me uneasiness. Why should the Secretary of War wish to misrepresent and belittle Milroy? Why exaggerate the false rumor and try to give currency to, if he did not originate, the false statement that there was no fight and a panic flight?

The President was in excellent humor. He said this flight would be a capital joke for Orpheus C. Kerr to get hold of. He could give scope to his imagination over the terror of broken squads of panic-stricken teamsters, frightened at each other and alarming all Pennsylvania. Meigs, with great simplicity, inquired who this person (Orpheus C. Kerr) was. “Why,” said the President, “have you not read those papers? They are in two volumes; any one who has not read them must be a heathen.” He said he had enjoyed them greatly, except when they attempted to play their wit on him, which did not strike him as very successful, but rather disgusted him. “Now the hits that are given to you, Mr. Welles, or to Chase, I can enjoy, but I dare say they may have disgusted you while I was laughing at them. So vice versa as regards myself.” He then spoke of a poem by this Orpheus C. Kerr which mythologically described McClellan as a monkey fighting a serpent representing the Rebellion, but the joke was the monkey continually called for “more tail,” “more tail,” which Jupiter gave him, etc., etc.