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

Saturday, May 17, 2014

May 17. Tuesday. — Rained last night of course. Camp at Alderson’s Ferry on Centreville road; very wet. Ordered to send a regiment to Union to report to General Averell. Sent five companies from Colonel Duval’s command [and] five companies of Twenty-third, all under Lieutenant-Colonel Comly; Major Adney also went with [the] Thirty-sixth companies, [and] Dr. Barrett, surgeon. I don’t believe the enmy is in force near Union. All busy with a small ferry-boat getting over wagons, etc.; horses and mules swim. General Crook and staff all at work, clubbing mules into the river. Considerable quantities of corn, etc., got here. Corn in the ear issued to men. Some parch, some boil, some pound up. Regular rations all gone long ago. A prodigious rain-storm about noon; no escape from the flood of falling and running water. The river we are crossing fell two feet last night. This will fill it booming full again.

We are now nearly three weeks without news from the outside or inside world. Great movements have taken place, we know, but “with us or with our foes,” we can’t answer. The Rebels we see seem to have heard news which they construe in their own favor, but there is no elation of feeling as we would expect if they had met with decided success. We are so absorbed in our own fate that the more important operations of Grant do not fill us with anxiety.

Lieutenant Hamlin, Thirty-sixth, goes with twenty-two men, three seregants, etc., on Centreville Road.

Tuesday, 17th—We marched fifteen miles today. Our brigade had the cattle in charge and at 10 o’clock we had to stop and let them rest, the heat and rough stony roads being too much for them. The other brigades of our corps passed us, going on ahead. We started again at 4 o’clock, but did not catch up with our corps and go into bivouac until late at night. In the country we passed through, only now and then are there small clearings with log huts. The people are poor and schoolhouses are very scarce through here.

May 17.—There has been fighting near Dalton for some days. Our army has left that place, and is moving down, drawing the enemy with it. We are told that the enemy are suffering severe losses. I went to Atlanta on the 15th instant, in company with some ladies and gentlemen of this place. We intended going to the scene of conflict, but, as the army is on the move, had to come back. We reached Atlanta on the morning of the 15th, about daylight. Mrs. Harris and myself went to the Gate City Hospital. It is the distributing one. There I met an old friend in Mr. Tucker, the head nurse. The hospital was filled with wounded, who had come in that morning from the front. Mr. T. told me that he had dressed the wounds of four hundred men since 4 o’clock the previous day. He had been up all that night at his work.

Mrs. H. was told that her son was wounded, and that he had been sent to Newnan.

That morning was one of the gloomiest I ever passed. It was damp and cheerless; and, look which way I would, the prospect was dreary. Hundreds of wounded men, dirty, bloody, and weary, were all around us. And when I thought of the many more which were expected, I was filled with despair, and felt like humbling myself in the dust, and praying more earnestly than ever before, that God would send us peace:

 

“Hath Liberty required

Such human hecatombs?

Is there no path to freedom,

But through this moral gloom?

Or must it still go onward,

This carnage, blood, and fire,

Until each flowery hill-top

Becomes a mount Moriah?

Forbid it, God Almighty!

Thy voice, once heard again,

Rolls back the tide of battle,

And stops the bloody reign.”

 

We remained nearly all day in an old car, expecting to get on to the front. There was a relief committee, from Lagrange, in the same car with us. I observed that several such committees were in Atlanta, from every part of Georgia. The good people of Newnan had supplied us with quantities of every thing. In the afternoon, Mrs. Harris, Mrs. Barnes, Mrs. Auld and myself went to the cars, on their arrival from the front; and O, what a sight we there beheld! No less than three long trains filled, outside and in, with wounded. Nearly all seemed to be wounded in the head, face, and hands. I asked some one near me why this was. They replied, because our men had fought behind breastworks.

There were ladies at the depot with baskets filled with edibles of all kinds, and buckets of milk, coffee, and lemonade; and I noticed many had wines. I observed a number of old gentlemen assisting— the only manner in which they could serve their country. I noticed one in particular, an aristocratic-looking gentleman, who wore a white linen apron.

The ladies in Atlanta have been doing this work ever since the commencement of the war. They have had tables set at the depot for the benefit of the soldiers. Our party went to the distributing hospital; there we found plenty of work. A number of the Atlanta ladies were there before us, dressing wounds. I commenced to dress one man’s hand, which was badly wounded. (Strange as it may seem, this was the first wound I had ever dressed. I had always had plenty of other work to do.) Just as I had got through, Dr. Jackson, who had gone with us from Newnan, requested me to come and assist him. We were in an immense hall, crowded with wounded; some walking about, others sitting on the floor—all waiting to have their wounds dressed.

As soon as that was done, they were sent off to make room for others. Surgeons, ladies, and nurses were scattered all about, so intently employed that they did not seem to notice each other. I brought the patients to Dr. J. and unbound the stiff bandages from their wounds, making them ready for him to dress. These men were called by the surgeons slightly wounded. One poor fellow from Alabama had both hands disabled. From one he had lost all his fingers excepting the fourth and thumb; and on the other he was shot through the wrist . This man was perfectly helpless. There were many just such slight wounds. One or two had lost an eye. Dr. Wellford was near where we were, as busy as he could possibly be, one of the ladies assisting him as I was Dr. J. After getting nearly through, I went into the rooms which were filled with badly wounded men in bed. I noticed many ladies bathing the men’s faces and attending to their wants in other ways.

While in one of the rooms, a young man called me by name, and told me he had seen my brother the night before, and that he was well. This young man was named Laramar, from Mobile, a member of the Fortieth Alabama Regiment. There was another with him; his name, I think, was Reesse, a member of the same regiment. There was also a Mr. Cox of Mobile, whom I knew, waiting on them. He is in the ordnance department in Atlanta.

Mr. L. informed me that the Seventeenth and Twenty-ninth Alabama regiments had suffered severely, and that Captain Haily of the Twenty-ninth was killed, and many of the others in that regiment.

It was a bright, moonlight night, and there were some folks who came into the hospital with provisions for the men. Dr. Wellford and a number of us took them and went all over, to see if we could find any in want, but nearly all had been supplied.

The men were lying all over the platform of the depot, preferring to remain there, so as to be ready for the train which would take them to other places.

I was informed that there were about seven or eight hundred wounded who had come in that evening.

Dr. Pursley is surgeon of the receiving hospital, and seemed to be doing all in his power for the sufferers. Every one in it looked wearied and worn out with the constant work which they had to do. The matron was very ill.

Dr. Bemiss, who is assistant medical director, was at the hospital, and going around in his usual kind manner, seeing that the men were attended to. About 10 o’clock he took Mrs. Harris and myself to Mrs. Lowenthall’s, where he boarded, who received us very kindly.

There was a young man visiting her, who was dressed in the extreme of fashion, with the addition of a few diamonds. I could not help contrasting him with the men I had just seen, who had been fighting for every thing truly noble—wounded, covered with dust, and many of them in rags.

Foppish dress is bad taste in a man at any time; but if there is one time more than another when it is out of place, it is the present. And I can not see why men think of such things just now, as no woman whose opinion is of any value has respect for those who do.

I have heard soldiers (I mean the fighting kind) say, that nothing disheartens them so much as to see men so overdressed.

I had promised Dr. B. that I would remain to breakfast the next morning, forgetting I had promised Mr. Tucker to be at the hospital by daylight, as he expected hundreds of wounded.

I kept my first promise, and as Mrs. H. did not feel very well, I went to the hospital by myself. While crossing the depot I met my friend, Mr. Gribble, and he accompanied me to it. On arriving there I found that no more wounded had come, but there were many there already, for whom I made toddies.

The scene which presented itself to me in the large room where we had been the night before was sickening.

There was pile after pile of rags, just as they had been taken from the wounds, covered with blood and the water used in bathing them. All of the attendants were too much exhausted to clean up.

These are things to which we have to shut our eyes, if we wish to do any good, as they can not be avoided.

I met Dr. Calvart of the Thirty-eighth Alabama Regiment, who requested me to get some rags for him, which I did, and assisted him as much as I could. He had some badly wounded men from his regiment.

Dr. C. told mo be had not eaten any thing for some time. I gave him some coffee, bread, and meat; and when I recollect now the place in which he ate it, I think we can get used to any thing. It was in the room or hall which I have just described.

We had concluded to return to Newnan, and as the cars did not start till 9 A. M., I visited one of the other hospitals, Dr. C. going with me; I think the name of it was the Medical College. The building is a very handsome one, and had just been fitted up. Every thing about it was in perfect order. It is one of the nicest hospitals in which I have ever been. It was filled with badly wounded men, as I am told is the case with every hospital in Atlanta. I found men there from every state in the Confederacy.

We left Atlanta on the passenger-car, and when half-way down had to get out, as the freight train that had left some hours before had met with an accident, and blocked up the road.

We got into a freight-car in front; in it there was a very large man, who had been in the car on which the accident happened; he had got mashed between two beams; his collar-bone was broken and his chest very much bruised, so that it was with difficulty he could breathe. His face was so much bruised that his eyes were almost closed. There were a number of surgeons on the cars, who were very kind to him. He is in our hospital, under Dr. Wellford’s care.

Major Davis of the Twentieth Alabama Regiment is at the Buckner Hospital, wounded in the head. On hearing he was from Mobile, I went to see him. He gave me a great deal of encouragement regarding this retreat of the army. Many can not understand why it is. He spoke very highly of General Johnston as a commander, and said he believed that in all his retreating he had not left as much as an old wheel for the enemy, and he never fought them unless he was certain of a victory. He also said that the men were better fed and better clad than they had ever been.

There is much talk at present about one of our cavalry officers, who is said to have killed six prisoners that he expected would be recaptured. It is reported that many of the men of the army have petitioned Gen. J. to send this officer to the enemy, and let them do what they please with him.

Major D. approved of what the men had done, and regretted that their petition had not been granted, as no punishment could be too severe for any man guilty of such barbarity. He also told me the enemy had shot six of our innocent men in retaliation.

When will men cease to do what is unjustifiable in the eyes of both God and man?

Major D. spoke highly of Ben Lane Poesy; says he is one of the bravest men we have, although a little eccentric.

Tuesday, 17th.—Moved off last night about 12 o’clock. Army slowly falling back. Halted at 10 A. M.; some skirmishing on our left. 3 P. M., put under arms at once, and moved back one-half mile and formed in line of battle; heavy firing in our front. We are formed in three lines of battle, across a beautiful valley; we are in third line. Lay down to rest at dark.

Fredericksburg, Va., May 17th, 1864.

On the morning of the sixth our division—the Third—was ordered to the front, and remained under arms during the forenoon. At 2 o’clock in the afternoon we moved farther to the left, where we found the enemy and engaged him. We were once more face to face with our old acquaintance, Longstreet. At 5 o’clock the order was given to charge the enemy’s works. The order was promptly obeyed, but the Rebels were strongly entrenched, and we could not dislodge them. Our loss was seven killed and thirty-three wounded.

The Army of the Potomac, in these two days, has lost about fifteen thousand men. Grant had established hospitals at Fredericksburg which were furnished with everything to relieve or mitigate the sufferings of the wounded. Under ordinary circumstances the provision made for removing them would have been ample.

The first train of ambulances, loaded to its utmost capacity, started for Fredericksburg at dusk, by way of Kellog’s Ford. About half way to the ford it was halted. The Rebels had cut them off; some other route must be found. This occupied all the next day. Finally an opening was found by way of Chancellorsville. Again were the ambulances filled with their scarcely living freight of bruised and mangled humanity. But transportation for all could not be found. All who could walk, if only a few miles, were ordered to do so. Still there remained one hundred nine who could not walk. These were all from our brigade. What was to be done with these helpless men? Time is precious. The army is already on the move. By midnight they will be entirely unprotected. Mosby, with his cutthroats, is reported in our rear, not far away. It is now 10 o’clock. The surgeons and officers of the brigade hold a hurried consultation. Dr. Bonine, of the Second Michigan; Dr. Brooks, of the Fifty-first Pennsylvania, and Henry Baker, Hospital Steward of the Twentieth Michigan, volunteered to remain with them.

The hospital attendants were then dismissed and sent with the train. Dr. Bonine then called for ten volunteers; men whom he could trust; who would not desert him in the hour of trial. I was one of the ten. Everything being arranged, the train and its escort moved forward and left us to our fate. There was no sleep for us that night. Each nurse was assigned a tent filled with wounded men, who required constant care. We expected the Rebels to appear early in the morning. I had but little preparation to make; nothing but to conceal the few greenbacks I possessed by sewing them under the lining of my clothing, and to destroy a few mementoes that I would not have fall into other hands. Among other things were a few old letters, crumpled and worn, but very precious to me.

The morning of the eighth of May dawned bright and beautiful. Ten o’clock came, and with it the Rebels. But, thank God, they are not guerillas, but a regiment of Stewart’s cavalry, commanded by General Chambers. They file around us. A Major visits every tent, takes the name, regiment and description of every man—an officer follows and administers an oath by which we bind ourselves to not take up arms for, or assist or aid, the Government of the United States in its war with the Confederacy until duly exchanged, and we are paroled “prisoners of war.”

We were treated with the utmost courtesy by officers and men. In the afternoon of the same day we beheld with joy a train of ambulances coming in, under a flag of truce, to our relief. We reached Fredericksburg about 10 o’clock that night. None but the wounded and their attendants were paroled. About one hundred stragglers were marched off to enjoy the hospitalities of a Southern prison. We are awaiting transportation to parole camp at Annapolis. How soon we go I cannot tell. I hope we may be exchanged soon. It annoys me exceedingly to be a prisoner, even within our own lines.

Tuesday, May 17. — Day pleasant. Major Jarves came up to see us. He goes home on a twenty-days’ leave of absence, to get his wooden leg repaired. Sent home a letter by one of the Sanitary Commission to Father. Heard that we were to move over to the left to support the Sixth Corps in the attack to be made to-morrow. Got my blankets from James. Late in the evening found that the plan of attack was changed, and that we were to charge the battery in our front. The change is not very agreeable to me, as we shall get particular Tophet if we go in on our front.

May 17 — Our army is still in battle line and ready for fight, but I heard no firing of any kind to-day.

Madison Station, Ala., Tuesday, May 17. 9 A. M. the long train of empty cars on their way to Nashville. Packed up in great haste with the report that Madison Station was in the hands of the rebels, ten miles distant from here. The long rolls were immediately sounded in infantry camp. Orderlies hastened with orders. First Section in moving order in ten minutes. Soon both Batteries hitched up. 12th Battery went up to the fort. We waited for orders. Impression prevailed that it was the onset of Forrest for Huntsville. 11 A. M. the 59th Indiana went out on the open cars towards the Station in high spirits and deafening cheers. 18th Wisconsin called from Whitesburg and two companies of 10th Missouri from Flint River.

4 P. M. our Battery ordered aboard train, three days’ rations, one blanket. Raining very heavy ever since noon. Guns were put in flat cars, horses in freight cars, and at 5 P. M. we started under Colonel Alexander. As the train left the depot, loud cheers arose from the soldier boys. Returned by the waving of handkerchiefs from windows. At dusk we halted at the smouldering ruins of Madison Depot, burned down and occupied by stragglers of the 13th Illinois. The 59th and four companies of 13th followed the raiders towards the river. Rain fell in torrents while we hurriedly unloaded. Got in moving condition at 9 P. M. and started. Very dark. I was left with forage that was to go back to Huntsville on train. Expecting to return to camp soon, I allowed E. W. E. to take my blanket, but after they left, 10 P. M., was told the train would not return till morning. Closed the car and lay on the wet sacks with only a rubber over me. On guard night before. Quite sleepy.

May 17th. Near Cedar Creek. Took account of stock this morning. A requisition goes to the quartermaster for a supply of clothes, rubber blankets, shelter tents. Much of our luggage gets lost on the march and in battle. Captain Wm. L. Spaulding, Co. B, killed at Newmarket. Body brought along by members of his company. Buried today near Cedar Creek, with military honors, the regiment taking part. It is intended to send the body home later. I expect to sleep tonight in an army wagon, near camp.

Tuesday, May 17th.

An order was received to-day reducing all batteries of artillery from six to four guns. The day was quiet, but from the dispositions being made it was apparent that a battle was anticipated. A rumor was current that the Rebs had four twenty-pound guns covering our front.