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

Thursday, October 31, 2013

October 31, Saturday. My time has been so occupied that I was unable to note down daily current events, which, however, have not been of special importance. It has been my practice to make a minute of transactions on the day they occurred, usually after my family had retired for the night, but for some days I have been occupied until near midnight with matters that cannot be dispensed with. I was getting materials and preparing the outlines for my Annual Report, when I received a communication from Du Pont, deliberately prepared, and with evident malicious intent, at his home “near Wilmington,” complaining of “harsh language,” “wounding words,” and “injurious imputations” in my letters and dispatches relative to his failure on the 7th of April. I am conscious of no such wrong as he attributes to me. Though grieved and disappointed in what took place, I felt no resentment, expressed none, to call out such denunciations, nor could he have had any such opinion in the day and time of those occurrences, as he would then have made his complaint. But the correspondence closed last June; he has been for months in Delaware, nursing discontent and chafing under disappointed ambition. His mind, as Drayton reports, has become morbid. He was for a time the great naval hero, but Farragut has eclipsed him. He has seen Farragut toasted and complimented, dined and extolled by our countrymen and by foreigners, until his envy and vexation could no longer be repressed. He therefore reviews the past, and, too proud to acknowledge or admit errors, faults, or infirmities, he assails me, who have been his friend, and declares he must again place on the files of the Department his indignant refutation of my charges. He specifies no charges, quotes no language, mentions no exceptional remark. I have treated him gently, for I respect his acquirements, though I dislike his intrigues. He doubtless thought I should refuse to receive and place on file his unjust complaint, and I at first hesitated whether to do so.

Du Pont has ability, pride, and intrigue, but he has not the great essentials of a naval commander, — heroic valor, unselfish energy, and devotion to the country. Thinks of himself more than of the country and the service. No more accomplished officer could command our European Squadron, but he is not made for such terrific encounters as that of Farragut at Mobile and New Orleans, and as are necessary to resist Sumter and capture Charleston. He has too much pride to be a coward, — would sooner die than show the white feather, — but the innate, fearless moral courage of Farragut or John Rodgers is not his. He feels his infirmity, and knows that I perceive it. But it is a weakness for which I did not reproach him, or use harsh language. I pitied him.

In this communication art and literary skill, on which he prides himself, are exhibited, but not true wisdom. He tries to be impudent, and, wishing to give offense, thereby lessens his dignity. Were I to return his jeremiad, it would be published, and his grief would excite sympathy. I must, therefore, in justice to myself, to him, and to truth reply. I have no doubt he has skillful advisers. H. Winter Davis, one of the most talented and ingenious men in Congress, has been his friend and adviser, and is, if I am not mistaken, his counselor now.

Letter No. XXII.

Camp Near Chattanooga,
October 31st, 1863.

To Mrs. James D. Blair, Austin, Texas.

My Dear Sister:

Your surprise of August the 6th reached me ten days ago. I call it a surprise because I thought that you trans-Mississippians were so crest-fallen at the Vicksburg catastrophe as to regard yourselves as entirely cut off from friends on this side of the river, and so would cease all effort at correspondence. My wife writes me in the most gloomy and desponding strain, while my letters to her are full of hope and encouragement. The army here, that is, the Virginia army, simply looked upon the fall of Vicksburg as to be expected, and have never ceased to find opportunities to send letters home at a dollar per letter, and most of us have received as many as before, and now since the post master general has arranged for a regular mail, I trust you will all write me more frequently, for you have no idea what a comfort it is to stand in mud to the ankle, on an empty stomach, and read a line of comfort from sympathizers at home. Newspapers may exhaust their stereotyped phrases, and correspendents may discourse eloquently about the sufferings of the “poor soldier” until the phrase becomes a by -word and fails to excite an emotion of pity, much less a tear, but I will say now (for perhaps I may not live to say it face to face in the better day to come), that the sacrifice made and the toils endured by the private soldier in the service of the Confederate States cannot be appreciated or expressed in words, nor will they ever be known except to those who have shared them. Not even the officers of infantry, whose duties are almost as arduous, can tell the tale of hardships which fall to the lot of the man in the ranks. He is the lowest mud sill in this structure which is being reared, and when the edifice totters all the props and braces must be placed upon his shoulders. My thoughts are all the news I have—we seldom get a paper here. We have been in the mud for over a month in an almost continuous rain, and are not allowed to send to Richmond for blankets and overcoats, which many of us have there, because it will not be thought of until the hospitals are filled with pneumonia and pleurisy.

When some sagacious surgeon, who has been in a comfortable tent, with plenty of blankets, will suddenly discover that a barefooted man cannot well keep warm under one blanket, which has not been thoroughly dry for three weeks. I have been quite blessed. I was barefooted about a week ago, but then the water was too deep for shoes, so it made very little difference. It has never been necessary for me to take a dose of medicine yet, so you may know that I stand it pretty well, never having missed a roll call or a duty of any kind. I will write to Brother Charles in a day or two, and give him my thoughts on heroes and stragglers. The former race is not extinct, but dying out rapidly. The latter is increasing alarmingly. You observe that we have a good deal of time to think while in camp, and not on active service, and some time to read, too. I have read lately, “The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table,” “Aurora Leigh,” “Davenport Dunn,” “Les Miserables” by Victor Hugo, and innumerable articles in magazines, which I have picked up in waste places. I now have on hand “Tasso’s Jerusalem Delivered,” which belongs to our quartermaster. I have carried a Bible and Milton in my knapsack all the time, so you see we are not absolutely illiterate. Your brother, truly,

John C. West.

Saturday, 31st—Remain in camp.

Lenoir, October 31st, 1863.

We are working like beavers, building our little houses. They are to be eight feet by ten, and will accommodate four persons. Nothing can be heard but the clatter of axes and the crash of falling timber. Only the First Division is stationed here. This is said to be the lower extremity of Burnside’s department. It is something like Fredericksburg, in this: Our pickets are stationed on opposite sides of the river within hailing distance. Colonel Leisure says a supply train is almost here. When it comes, our empty haversacks are to be filled and our rags exchanged for clothes. Everything is to be very precise and regular, as becomes an army of veterans.

Charles Francis Adams, Jr., to his father

Foxville near Warrenton, Va.
On Picket, October 31, 1863

I write on a bread-box and in a grove, through which the wind blows freely; while about a hundred and fifty yards from here a squad of rebels are philosophically watching a squad of my men separated by the Rappahannock, here about three feet deep and thirty broad. I first picketed this ford the 31st of May last, and since then have done so frequently. Three weeks ago Monday a detachment of mine, under Captain Thayer and Ned Flint, were chizzled out of it by the enemy in a most surprising and amusing way, receiving their first announcement of danger in the form of a volley from the rear; and here I had the satisfaction of skirmishing half the night. It is a pretty, pleasant place, but I should not weep not to see it again. By the way Mamma wanted to know who Ned Flint is. He is n’t Mrs. Shiverick’s brother, but a son of Dr. Flint of Boston. He graduated two years before John, has wandered far and got but little but experience to show for it, and has now turned up as an officer in this regiment. In figure he is my height, fat and tough. In disposition he is energetic and lazy, shrewd and slow, brave, good natured and enduring, extremely temperate, thick skinned physically and morally as a rhinoceros, and withal the man of the most amusing and immovable self-poise I ever saw in my life. He is a very valuable and reliable officer and I really don’t see what I should have done without him this summer. Ned Flint reformed, made money and was lost on the Golden Gate in the Pacific.

Since I was last here my experiences have been multifarious. I see you always think our regiment is out of the way in action unless its name is mentioned. This regiment never is and never will be mentioned in reports: first, because we do not come from Pennsylvania or New York; and secondly, because we do not know any newspaper correspondents. But I do assure you we have done our share and been as frequently in action and suffered more heavily than most of the regiments you see mentioned so frequently.

Now I think the campaign is about over and things will remain, here and in the West, pretty much as they are until next spring — the Mississippi and Eastern Tennessee being the great results of the summer’s campaign. Is it not enough? In Virginia we have not made any progress for reasons obvious to every thinking man and painfully stamped on the heart and history of this fine army; but again we have foiled and held in check the confederates’ finest army and ablest generals. As for them they have nowhere, at best, done more than hold their own and, on the whole theatre of war, have lost ground enormously. That the crowning success was withheld from this summer’s campaign was a bitter disappointment to me, but, on second thought, seems right and good, for I see we are not ripe for it. The one good to result from this war must be the freedom and regeneration of the African race. Without that it will be barren of results. That can only be wrought out through the agency of the army — the black soldiers. They are coming but they are not here yet. Every disaster and every delay brings them on and the necessity and difficulty of raising more troops only forces their development. I want to see 200,000 black soldiers in the field, and then I shall think it time to have peace. The African question might yet take a step backward in the face of a final success won by white soldiers, but it never will after that success to which 200,000 armed blacks have contributed. . . .

31st. Immediately after breakfast commenced muster. Co. “C” was first on hand. Teams and 9th Mich. went for forage. Considerable trouble drawing enough. At 2:30 P. M. companies went out and fired revolvers and rifles. I made several good shots with the carbine. Good many boys under the influence of liquor. Helped some about ordnance papers.

Saturday, 31st—The water has left our camp in a frightful condition, and we got orders to move the camp to higher ground tomorrow. This was general muster day.1 I went on fatigue today. William Green of our company, not having recovered from his sickness, left for home this morning on a thirty-day furlough. I sent $50.00 to father by him.

Waterloo, Ala., Saturday, Oct. 31. The rain has cleared off and it is a fine and clear morning but rather cold. Mustered by Lieutenant S. F. Clark for pay for the months of September and October, after which we marched up to go across on the transports (stern wheels). Came up the river three miles under escort of the gunboats, loaded with commissary stores. Did not get to the ferry till 4 P. M. The guns and wagons were loaded on a barge and sent across by the ”Anglo Saxon.” The horses sent down stream to be taken across by the “Masonic Gem”, but it was so small that it took three trips to get across. I got over on the second trip. We were landed half a mile above the guns and we galloped across the other bank. It was dark before I got to the Battery (it was in a large field of corn). Fed my horses all they could eat, having had nothing since morning, and filled their nosebags. Mail arrived. By that time I found Evie with a fine supper of coffee, sweet potatoes and raw ham (which we bought of the commissary, 3 cts. per lb.) with hard crackers for dessert. Obliged to wait for the other horses until 9 P. M. After awhile we moved out three miles to camp, came into camp and got into bed by 11:30 P. M. in a negro shanty. Two companies of 4th U. S. Cavalry arrived from Huntsville, Ala. with dispatches to Sherman.

October 31— On the 28th General Kelley reviewed the Third Brigade, [and] General Duffie’s cavalry. A beautiful day; a fine spectacle. I had only nine companies of the Twenty-third here — a small affair. General Kelley is a gentlemanly man of fifty to sixty; not an educated man — nothing particularly noticeable about him. [The] 29th, the three generals with their young ladies, Miss Jones, Miss Scammon, and Miss Smith and staffs went to Fayette. I [am] left in command here at Charleston. [The] 29th, got into new quarters — wall-tents on boards.

Unidentified soldier in Confederate artillery first lieutenant's uniform holding sword, with lock of hair in case

 

Unidentified soldier in Confederate artillery first lieutenant’s uniform holding sword, with lock of hair in case

__________

Ninth-plate ambrotype, hand-colored ; 7.4 x 6.3 cm (case)

Liljenquist Family Collection of Civil War Photographs; Ambrotype/Tintype photograph filing series; Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.

Record page for image is here.

__________

imageNote – This image has been digitally adjusted for one or more of the following:

    • fade correction,
    • color, contrast, and/or saturation enhancement
    • selected spot and/or scratch removal
    • cropped for composition and/or to accentuate subject matter
    • straighten image

Civil War Portrait 079