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

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Annapolis, Md., April 15, 1864.

Dear Father, — . . . I see and hear no indications of our moving soon, nor have I any idea where we arc going. I hope that it will be against Richmond, as I want Lee’s army to be destroyed and Richmond taken. We must do both of these things this summer.

Our band serenaded General Burnside the other evening. This afternoon his chief of staff, Colonel Goodrich, came up here with some ladies to hear the band play. They did not stop long, however, on account of the chilliness of the atmosphere. They are coming again to-morrow.

I am not able to drill with the regiment now at all, as I am on court-martial almost all the time, and from present appearances shall continue on it as long as we are here.

We have been having quite pleasant weather lately, giving us a good chance to drill the men and get the camp in good condition. We have had two snow-storms since our arrival, the last one being merely a flurry. The grass around here is beginning to grow green, the trees to bud, and the birds to sing. Everything in fact looks like spring, by far the pleasantest season in the year in the “Sunny South.” The big blue-bottles, the pest of a camp, are beginning to show themselves and buzz round with that disagreeable noise and in that blundering, careless way which makes them so unpleasant.

I am thankful to say that we have got rid of two of our incompetent officers, and are in a fair way of losing another. . . .

We are all sorry to see that the draft has been postponed. I do wish that they would have it in every place that has been at all backward. We need the men very much.

Friday, April 15. — Received a letter from Father. Day pleasant. O’Brien was tried to-day for desertion. As I was a witness, I did not sit on the court. Colonel Goodrich, of General Burnside’s staff, was here to-day. He had some ladies with him and is going to have them here to-morrow to hear our band.

Charles Francis Adams to his son

London, April 15, 1864

America is not much talked of here. Never so little since I first came. The immediate excitement is Garibaldi. Next the Danish conference. Lastly, the departure of Maximilian to be Emperor of Mexico. The first is much the most extraordinary demonstration. People say there never was such a turnout of the people as that which received him. Three miles of road packed, before reaching the city. He is evidently the hero of all the unprivileged classes of England and of Europe. It is sentiment, and not action. The peculiarity of the present age is the freedom of the mind, whilst the body remains passive. Revolutions are worked by the steady spread of convictions rather than the sudden impulse of physical force. The existence of the United States as a prosperous republic has been the example against which all reasoning contrary to the popular feeling has been steadily losing strength. It was the outbreak of the war that in an instant gave such revived hopes to all the privileged classes in Europe. For three years they have been making every possible use of the advantage. But it is now manifestly on the wane once more. Napoleon’s Mexican empire, as a bridle upon the movement of American republicanism, is the only practical result of the crisis. What that will amount to, the moment our troubles pass over and we settle down again into a nation, it is not very hard to foresee. An Austrian prince aided by French soldiers three thousand miles from any base, without an aristocracy and with a people little used to respect authority of any kind, in a country which has no sympathy with either Germans or French, has not a very brilliant prospect in the nineteenth century of founding a dynasty. In my opinion Garibaldi would have been a better selection.

This gentleman is the guest of the Duke of Sutherland at Stafford House. He is a young man with no particular political character, but the family, as you know, is identified with the liberal or Whig side. We all regretted that you were not with us on Wednesday when Stafford House, the only real palace in London, was thrown open to receive guests invited to meet the Italian hero. The only thing I was struck with about him was his great simplicity and quietness of manner. There was an air of dignity in it which had no factitious support in dress or in any outward demonstration what, ever. I know of no nobleman here whose deportment marks rank so strongly. Yet it is very doubtful to me whether he ever was bred to it in any way. Neither as a soldier has he had any but irregular commands, over volunteer forces. The splendor around him, and the many distinguished persons assembled to meet him seemed to produce not the smallest change in his manner. This is perhaps the most difficult of all things to do. It indicates a very sluggish temperament or a great command of nerves.

His lameness from his wound still troubles him, so, presently, he went to bed, escorted to his room by the Duchess of Sutherland, the Duke himself and the Dowager, his mother, the band playing in the centre of the hall on which the grand staircase opens, and many of the company looking down from the corridor above, as they descended. No royal personage would have been more honored. . . .

Friday, April 15th.

The Second Battalion, under Major Arthur, composed of Companies D, K, H, and E, took up its line of march for the Fifth Corps this morning, passing through a pleasant, open country stretching away from the foot of “Pony Mountain,” and after a march of about six or eight miles reached its destination near the village of Culpepper. Here, in an old orchard near a large but dilapidated brick house about a mile from Culpepper, we located our camp. While pitching tents I was surprised and delighted to see Capt. Jim McNair, of the 8th N. Y. Cavalry, an old Geneseo school-mate and friend of mine, who had heard of our expected arrival in these parts and had ridden over to meet us. Leaving the company in charge of Lieut. Edmonston, I mounted the horse of Jim’s orderly and rode with him over to Culpepper on a foraging expedition, which, however, was not a very marked success, for we found the town almost wholly deserted by the inhabitants; the fences and buildings destroyed or badly damaged, and the streets full of army wagons and straggling soldiers. Gen. Grant, and Gen. Warren of our Corps, have established their Headquarters here, though there are but three or four houses in the town which are not riddled with shot and shell or have windows and doors left in them. The churches are being utilized as hospitals, and the little urchins on the street are as bitter as the few older inhabitants who remain, and assure us as we pass along that “when the Rebs come back you-uns will skedaddle.”

After an exceedingly plain and frugal repast at a miserable apology for a restaurant, and a short stroll about town, we returned to camp, where, parting with Jim, I found my shelter tent temporarily pitched for my reception. I find we are in the midst of a country where stirring scenes have taken place, some even as late as during the past winter. Just in rear of us, on a plain running back to a dense wood, and in the wood itself, occurred a severe cavalry fight, and the place where our camp now stands was crossed and re-crossed by the combatants and the earth stained with the blood of brave men, while the old orchard trees are cut and scarred by the bullets. The old brick house near us is occupied in part by an elderly lady and her granddaughter of the close-communion “Secesh” persuasion, and in part by the Brigade Commissary, whose stores consist principally of hard tack and whiskey. One can scarcely conceive of a more utterly forsaken looking habitation than this residence of one of the “F. F. V.’s.” The barns, stables, sheds and fences which formerly belonged to or surrounded it, have been torn down piecemeal to supply fuel or to build shanties for soldiers. Not a green thing, not even grass, is allowed to grow about, and the old shell itself is literally tottering to decay. The doors, what few remain, swing loosely on leather hinges; the windows, demolished by patriotic Yankee valor, admit at once the sunshine and the storm, while the rickety old veranda that once graced the front on either side, now serves as a roost for three or four sickly chickens (all the tenant’s visible earthly possessions), and a loafing place for a few idle army officers. I mean to take an early opportunity, however, to pay my respects to the ladies.

April 15th, 1864.

Lieutenant Sudborough expects a short leave of absence, in a few days, to visit his home, and is in great haste to get his business in shape. It is my duty, as it is my pleasure, to assist him. He has been very kind to me, and I feel under great obligations to him. He is senior officer, and has command of the company. Company books have not been posted since the first of January, for, in their marches and countermarches in Tennessee, they could not be carried. Accounts of clothing, camp and garrison equipage, etc., were kept on slips, and must now be transferred to the books; each man’s account separately posted, his signature obtained and witnessed for each time he has drawn clothing. Then there are morning reports, monthly reports, invoices, inventories and receipts without number, with copies of each transaction. At these I have been busy, almost without intermission, since I rejoined my company.

Our company numbers an aggregate of ninety-three men and officers—sixty-five present for duty, twenty-six absent on sick leave. The weather is—April, and nothing else. Lieutenant Sudborough leaves for Michigan tomorrow, where most of the officers now are. He leaves all company business in my care. I take possession of his tent in the morning.

Friday, 15th—It is cloudy and quite cool. I harrowed all day, and I think that it is the last day’s work that I shall do on the farm for some time, unless this cruel war soon comes to a close.

There are two families in this locality who are Copperheads and opposed to the war. They are members of the “Knights of the Golden Circle,” but are very quiet at present. They do not, however, give dinners to the returned veterans. About eighteen months ago, they, with some others, north and west from here, were giving the loyal people of the county a great deal of trouble, going so far as to recruit a company of cavalry for the rebel army and drill them at the county seat. Finally, some of our brave soldiers, Tipton boys, home on furlough, made it so hot for the would-be rebel soldiers, that they disbanded, and have not been seen drilling since.

Huntsville, Friday, April 15. The veterans of the 12th Wisconsin Battery left this morning, thirty in number, with their beautiful flags, for the State. Ours would go with them if Lieutenant Jenawein were here, but he is at Whitesburg and will not be up till this evening. He will start with them in the morning. I am on guard, pleasant through the day but dreary during the night. My old chum Evie was up from the river after rations. Staid all night. He is in charge of 3rd Platoon. Orders received to reduce us to four-gun battery.

April 15, Friday. Chase and Blair were neither of them at the Cabinet-meeting to-day, nor was Stanton. Seward takes upon himself the French tobacco question. He wishes me to procure some one to investigate and report on the facts of the case of the Sir William Peel. I told him I thought Charles Eames as good a counsellor on prize matters as any lawyer whom I knew, and if referred to me I should give the case to Eames.

The gold panic has subsided, or rather abated. Chase is in New York. It is curious to see the speculator’s conjectures and remarks on the expedients and subterfuges that are resorted to. Gold is truth. Its paper substitute is a fiction, sustained by public confidence in part because there is a belief that it will ultimately bring gold, but it has no intrinsic value and the great increase in quantity is undermining confidence.

The House passed a resolution of censure on Long for his weak and reprehensible speech. It is a pity the subject was taken up at all. No good has come of it, but I hope no harm. Lurking treason may feel a little strengthened by the failure to expel.

April 15.—The National gunboat Chenango, while proceeding to sea from New-York City today, burst one of her boilers, killing one man, and severely wounding thirty-two others.—A meeting was held at Knoxville, Tenn., at which resolutions offered by W. G. Brownlow were unanimously adopted, favoring emancipation, recommending a convention to effect it, and requesting Governor Johnson to call the same at the earliest period practicable, and indorsing the administration and war policy of President Lincoln. Governor Johnson made a powerful speech in support of the resolutions.—The Ninth Connecticut and Eighth Vermont reenlisted veteran- regiments arrived at New-Haven, Ct, this evening.—General John W. Geary, commanding Second division, Twelfth (afterward Twentieth) army corps, started from Bridgeport, Ala., on an expedition down the Tennessee, last Tuesday, taking with him one thousand men, and one gunboat They shelled along the banks of the river, occasionally routing a party of guerrillas and rebel cavalry, until within eleven miles of Decatur. Here they came to a large force of infantry, artillery, and cavalry. It was nearly dark, and the General ordered the boat up the river again. But the rebels were not to be thus trifled with, and sent a battery of flying artillery up both sides of the river to head off the gunboat. The artillery went up the banks, and got in position to play when the Nationals passed; but the night was very dark, and the General with his men passed in safety. The expedition halted ten miles below Bridgeport, at a small village, and sent out a company as skirmishers. They went in the town, drove some rebel pickets, and captured a mail and seventeen thousand dollars in confederate money. They returned to camp this evening.

—A body of rebel cavalry made an attack on the National pickets at Bristoe Station, Va., killing one man, and wounding two others of the Thirteenth Pennsylvania regiment They were driven off after a few shots had been exchanged, but carried their wounded with them.—The notorious guerrilla Reynolds, and his command, was surprised by a party of National cavalry, near Knoxville, Tenn., and ten of them killed. Reynolds and fifteen others were captured, together with their horses, equipments, and arms.

—The expedition to Smithfield, Va., which left Portsmouth day before yesterday, returned this day. A participant gives the following account of it:

“The expedition consisted of three regiments, the Twenty-third and Twenty-fifth Massachusetts, and the Ninth New-Jersey. Our regiment, the Twenty-third, alone landed at a point nine miles above Smithfleld. The others were to land below at that place. We took up our line of march, and within about one mile came upon the rebel signal corps, who gave us a volley and fled. We followed, meeting with no opposition for three miles, when we found them posted behind breastworks and reenforced. They were too strong for our skirmishers, and Captain Story, of company F, was ordered to charge the breastworks with his command, companies I and D, about fifty men; and lest this should seem small for two companies, I will say, our whole regiment only mustered three hundred men, and were put into six companies of fifty men each. We were ordered to fix bayonets, and then forward, every man’s eye being on the breastworks as he advanced toward it, expecting to receive a volley; but the rebels fled without firing. We pressed after them; and a mile further came to a mill-dam, with a bridge to cross, and discovered a turn in the road on the opposite side, where the rebels had posted themselves to advantage. A company was ordered into the woods to keep up a fire on them. The videttes were on the road watching the movements of the enemy, but kept themselves well covered, as we had already found they were good shots, having had two men wounded before reaching their breastworks. At this point, Sergeant Thomas Porter, of company I, a daring and brave young man, ventured beyond the videttes to get a shot, when he fell mortally wounded, the ball entering his shoulder, passing entirely down the back, and was extracted near the side.

“At this time we heard firing in our rear, and feared that the guerrillas would give us trouble by attacking our rear-guard; but we were determined to clear our way in front first, and Captain Raymond was ordered to charge across the bridge at all hazards, and disperse the foe, which was handsomely done, capturing the officer of the signal corps and two of his men, while the rest scattered in all directions, we not losing a man. In the morning we were informed that the Colonel’s orders were from General Graham, commanding the expedition, to reach Smithfield at such an hour, expecting we should meet with little or no opposition; but, as the prospect was, that every mile was not only to be disputed, but that we were going to have considerable trouble in our rear with the guerrillas, the Colonel concluded to fall back to the river, under the protection of the gunboats, as we had already three wounded men to get there, and no ambulance to convey them in. On turning back to the breastworks from which we drove the rebels, we took a different road from the one we came up in the morning, but had not gone far, before the guerrillas were following us, and a rear-guard was taken from company F, and they had something to do to keep them back, continually exchanging shots. The rebels were bold and daring; they knew every turn in the road, and would watch their chance to ride up and give us a shot, whenever opportunity offered. When within a half mile of the river where we halted, Corporal Hiram B. Lord, of Newburyport, was wounded in the thigh, the ball passing in one side and out of the other.

“We came to the river-bank and stacked our arms in front of the residence of General F. M. Boykin, who was a noted politician of the democratic school, as letters found on his premises proved, This place has of late been made the headquarters of the rebel signal corps. Here vas found a brass field-cannon in good order. A few rods from here is a fort which was erected at the outbreak of the rebellion, and was to command not only the river, but all approaches to it by land. In it were a number of large guns dismounted, and ten so damaged that they will never be of any use again. It looks as if it had been deserted for some time. Just before dark, our regiment took up its quarters in this fort, as it was thought it would be a good position, in case the enemy should come upon us in force. We had not been in the fort more than two hours, before we were ordered to go aboard the transport, and that night moved down to Smithfield; and the next forenoon the other part of the expedition came out, and we all returned to Portsmouth. A Lieutenant, belonging to frigate Minnesota who accompanied the expedition to Smithfield, was killed, and also an officer of the Ninth New-Jersey killed, and one private wounded. I believe those were all the casualties they met with. The Twenty-third had one mortally wounded, Porter, of company I; two seriously, Lord, of company I, Symonds, of company C; one slightly, Osborn, company G; and one wounded and taken prisoner, Thomas, of company F, who was sent with the quartermaster and another man to signalize the gunboats of our whereabouts. What damage we did the rebels we do not know. The other part of the expedition took some prisoners, two of them wounded; whether they killed any I did not learn. I think this expedition is the second made under the command of Brigadier-General Graham.”

—A forage-train belonging to the National forces under the command of Colonel Williams, of the Kansas infantry, was attacked and captured at a point about eight miles from Camden, Ark., by a portion of the rebel forces under General Price.—Leavenworth Conservative.

—The Richmond Examiner contained the following review of the situation: “Whilst the black cloud is slowly gathering on the horizon which will soon overspread the heavens, and, amid roaring thunder, discharge its flashes of lightning, a silence full of awe reigns through all nature, unbroken except by the painful soughing of the wind and a faint muttering in the distance. Such is the apparent quiet that oppresses our mind, and makes us bend low before the fearful storm that we feel in our heart is not afar off. Even the busy hum of preparation is hushed; what man can do to prepare for the fearful day has been done, and the South, at least, stands ready, like the strong man armed; the good knight, with the sword loose in its sheath, his harness bright and his heart full strong. Our men, after all their struggles and buffetings, riddled with wounds, broken by sickness, tried by cares, overcast by checks, are yet undaunted and unwavering; and once more, after imploring the Most High for his blessing, cast off the dust and ashes from their head, and rise at the call of danger, hopeful and confident as when they buckled on their maiden swords. People and army, one soul and one body, feel alike in their innermost hearts that when the clash comes, it will be a struggle for life or death.

“So far, we feel sure of the issue. All else is mystery and uncertainty. Where the first blow will fall, when the two armies of Northern Virginia will meet each other face to face; how Grant will try to hold his own against the master spirit of Lee, we cannot even surmise. But it is clear to the experienced eye that the approaching campaign will bring into action two new elements not known heretofore in military history, which may not unlikely decide the fate of the gigantic crusade. The enemy will array against us his new iron-clads by sea, and his colored troops on land.

“Europe will watch with nervous interest the first great trials made of these improved monitors, if it should be our good fortune to finish and equip our own vessels of that class in time to meet them on equal terms. For since Aboukir and Trafalgar—a longer pause than was ever before known in the history of Europe—there have been no great naval fights, where fleets have met and the empire of the ocean has been at stake. Great wars have been carried on by land, but the sea has not been the scene of like great conflicts. During this long truce, two new elements—steam and improved projectiles—have entirely changed the conditions of such contests.

“Vessels have become independent in their movements. Wind or tide may aid or impede, but they are no longer essential, and steam enables them to approach each other at will, untrammelled by external agencies. The power of the engines of war which they carry has steadily increased; and in precise proportion as the projectile gained in weight and distance, the means of defence were improved in the armament of vessels. Thus, we have now guns of a calibre unknown since the first days of artillery, and ships armed like the mailed knights of the middle ages. They promise a truly fearful character for the result of the first hostile meeting on a large scale.

“The experiments heretofore made with ironclad vessels have been but very imperfect trials. During the Crimean war certain ‘floating batteries’ of the French attacked the very strong batteries of Kinsburn, and silenced them with apparent ease. They were, however, mere iron boxes, having neither masts nor yards, and, in fact, in no point like the iron-clads of our day, with their plate armor at the sides and their turrets on deck. A trial on a larger scale was contemplated against the forts of Venice, when peace came and resigned them to the dockyard.

“In our navy, also, the vessels of the enemy have, with the exception of the fight with the Merrimac, attempted only the reduction of stone walls at Charleston. Successful in beating down brick and mortar, and reducing granite to atoms, their projectiles have been found powerless against sand-bags and heaps of rubbish. The only serious encounter that can be called a fair trial of iron-clads resulted in the destruction of the monitor Keokuk, by the superiority of our projectiles—steel bolts and spherical shot—devised by Brooke, the ingenious inventor of the deep-sea sounding-line. The Yankee gunboats occasionally, with their light draughts and powerful guns on pivots, have ascended our rivers with impunity, frightened the people on shore, and controlled the country for miles around. The prestige that attended them at first, and cost us so dear, has, however, completely vanished. Like every dreaded danger, they succumbed as they were fairly looked in the face. Now we know fully their vulnerability, and the perils of a water transport for troops, with their helplessness when attacked in boats.

“Since the first trials, however, the Yankees have made great efforts to remedy the evils that attended their early iron-clads—their want of buoyancy, their sinking too deep forward to approach well at certain landings, the necessity to tow them out at sea, and their slowness, which would embarrass the fleet to which they may be attached. They claim now to possess vessels as buoyant and free in motion as ordinary steamers, impenetrable to any known projectile, including the new Whitworth arms, and provided with a heavier armament than the last built iron-clads of the English. These they propose to carry into our harbors, and if we there can meet them, a conflict such as the world has not seen yet will take place. The famous deeds of our noble Merrimac will be repeated, and England especially will watch the result with intense interest, as she well knows that these Yankee iron-clads were, in reality, not built for us, but for British ports and British vessels. After Mr. Seward’s insolent despatch to Mr. Adams, which Earl Russell so conveniently ignored, they are amply forewarned.

“Another fleet of smaller but equally dangerous vessels has been built in the interior of the country, and there is no doubt that the Yankees will again send out the fleet of light gunboats, well armed and iron-clad, to force their way into regions otherwise inaccessible, to carry war to waters where they are least expected, and to overcome shore defences by a tempest of converging fire. They will again try to illustrate the powerful aid which a land army may receive from the kindred branch afloat, manœuvring on its flank, and supporting it by bold demonstrations. It is fortunate for us that we are both forewarned and forearmed. We have been steadily informed of the powerful engines of war prepared for our destruction. We have had our successes on the Lower James and in Charleston harbor.

“We have, just in time, received the instructive account of the first trial of an English-built iron-clad, the Danish monitor Rolf Krake, before Prussian batteries, and may derive great comfort from the severe punishment she has received by guns far inferior to those we hold in readiness. For we also have not been idle, and both afloat and on shore all is prepared to resist attack and to meet the foe on his own terms. Our rivers also will have less to fear, for repeated triumphs and captures have taught us the value of horse artillery and light movable batteries against the best-armed boats. Still, the conflict will be fierce and full of interest, not only to those who are engaged in it, but to all observers. Our fate is at stake; but we may, in all probability, have to perform the rehearsal of a fearful tragedy soon to be enacted on a still vaster stage, amid the crash of ancient empires and the uprising of powerful races in the old world.

“The other new feature likely to give a strange coloring to the summer’s campaign is the large force of armed blacks which our enemy is practising to employ. They have apparently reconsidered their first plan of using them mainly for garrison duty, and we see them, in Virginia and other points of attack, place them in the van, or send them, well mounted, on foraging expeditions, in order thus to harden them for war. Whilst it cannot be expected that they will ever fight with the bravery or gallantry of our own men, we are disposed to believe that they will be as soldiers but little inferior to the riff-raff of Germany and Ireland, which enters so largely into the composition of the Northern army. The history of war teaches us that the most indifferent material may be made useful by careful association, and it is a maxim of common experience that those who will not fight alone and by themselves, will stand their ground, if properly supported and surrounded by large numbers. It is never wise to despise an enemy, least of all when he is as yet untried.”

by John Beauchamp Jones

            APRIL 15TH.—Cloudy—slight showers. I published an article yesterday in the Enquirer, addressed to the President, on the subject of supplies for the army and the people (the government to take all the supplies in the country), the annihilation of speculation, and the necessary suppression of the Southern (Yankee) Express Company. This elicited the approval of Col. Northrop, the Commissary-General, who spoke to me on the subject. He told me the Express Company had attempted to bribe him, by offering to bring his family supplies gratis, etc. He said he had carried his point, in causing Gen. Bragg to address him according to military etiquette. He showed me another order from Bragg (through the Adjutant-General), to take possession of the toll meal at Crenshaw’s mills. This he says is contrary to contract, and he was going to the Secretary to have it withdrawn. “Besides,” said he, “and truly, it would do no good. The people must eat, whether they get meal from Crenshaw or not. If not, they will get it elsewhere, and what they do get will be so much diverted from the commissariat.”

            There are rumors of the enemy accumulating a heavy force at Suffolk.

            The guard at CampLee are going in the morning to Lee’s army ; their places here to be filled by the reserve forces of boys and old men. This indicates a battle on the Rapidan.