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

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Colonel Lyon’s Letters.

 

Stevenson, Ala., Sun., May 29, 1864.—The 132d Indiana (100-days men) arrived here last evening to relieve us, and we go to Claysville, which is the last of the poor 13th for the next 100 days. No fighting, no wounds, no glory for us. Oh, how badly you will feel about it. We shall not leave, I think, until the last of the week, as our transportation has only this morning left Nashville, and it comes through by land. We were all well satisfied here, and yet the boys never left a place more cheerfully.

The country where we go has not been so badly devastated as this, and it is said to be a good country. We expect to revel in fruit. The peach crop will be very heavy this year.

I learn that poor George Yout was killed. He was a brave, good boy, and I feel great sympathy for his family and friends.

Sunday, May 29th.

Moved from Headquarters into the woods and camped until after noon, when the Brigade, under Col. Kitching, moved to the front. In about two hours orders came for the Second Battalion to join the Third Battalion of our regiment in the Second Corps, and we did so, and in a short time both battalions went out with the Second Corps batteries about eight miles towards Mechanicsville and halted for the night.

Sunday, 29th—It was 9 o’clock before we got started this morning and though the country here between two mountains is very rough, we covered fourteen miles and went into camp in the mountains for the first time. Large foraging parties were sent out this morning to secure meat. Our advance lines had a skirmish with the rebels this afternoon. The health of the men is good, but many have sore feet from the hard marching.

May 29, 1864, 4 p.m.

Have been in the rifle pits all day. We’re now expecting a charge from the Rebels, that is, our division commander is. I think they will lose an immense sight of men if they attempt it. News to-day of Davis moving his capital to Columbia, S. C, and of Grant driving Lee across the Savannah River.

Saturday, May 28, and Sunday, May 29. — We started at 9.20 A.M., being the rear brigade. Made easy marches until 12, when we halted an hour for dinner. Continued marching until 6 P.M., by which time we had made over 15 miles. We were then bothered for over two hours by the trains in our front. We kept on marching all night, until 6 A.M. in the morning, making about 13 additional miles. We crossed the Pamunkey on pontoon bridges at Hanover town. We passed through Dr. Brockenborough’s place and over the road where I came near being captured by Stuart two years ago. We then went into position on a cross-road, and remained there during the night.

Charles Francis Adams, Jr., to his father

H.Q. Army of Potomac
Hanover Town, Va., April [May] 29, 1864

The campaign to us here gradually unfolds itself. Grant and Meade discuss and decide, but keep their own counsel, and no one knows whether tomorrow the Army is to fight, to march, or to rest. Meanwhile marching now seems to be the order of the day, and since day before yesterday Head Quarters have moved thirty odd miles, turning all the exterior lines of Richmond and bringing us down to the interior line of the Chickahominy. Here we rest for today. Up to this time General Grant seems to have looked on this campaign in Virginia as one necessarily to be made up of the hardest kind of fighting, combined with all the generalship which he could command, and, as we were numerically the strongest, we might as well do the fighting first as last, pounding and manœuvring at the same time. If this was his idea, I think the wisdom of it is becoming apparent. I cannot believe that his operations have been or now are conducted on any fixed plan. He seems to have one end in view — the capture of Richmond and the destruction of Lee’s army; but I imagine his means to that end undergo daily changes and no man in this Army, but Meade perhaps, is even able to give grounds for a guess as to whether we are to approach Richmond from this side or from the other. Meanwhile, though Grant expected hard fighting, I have no idea that he expected anything like the fighting and the slaughter which took place in the Wilderness and at Spottsylvania. He had never seen anything like it in the West, and the fierce, stubborn resistance we met far surpassed his expectation. Meade knew better what he had to expect and in fighting for him those battles were, I imagine, of incalculable assistance to Grant. Today, as near as I can see, results stand as follows: these two great armies have pounded each other nearly to pieces for many days; neither has achieved any real success over the other on the field of battle. Our loss has probably been greater than theirs, for ours has been the offensive; but we have a decided balance of prisoners and captured artillery in our favor. The enemy, I think, outfight us, but we outnumber them, and, finally, within the last three days one witnesses in this Army as it moves along all the results of a victory, when in fact it has done only barren fighting. For it has done the one thing needful before the enemy — it has advanced. The result is wonderful. Hammered and pounded as this Army has been; worked, marched, fought and reduced as it is, it is in better spirits and better fighting trim today than it was in the first day’s fight in the Wilderness. Strange as it seems to me, it is, I believe, yet the fact, that this Army is now just on its second wind, and is more formidable than it ever was before. This I see on every march and I attribute it to movement in advance after heavy, though barren, fighting.

With the enemy it is otherwise. Heavier fighting, harder marching, and greater privations — for with them deficiency in numbers was only to be made good by redoubled activity — two men with them have done the work of three with us — all these have led only to movements to the rear, to the abandonment of line after line until now they find themselves with their backs against Richmond, Naturally this discourages troops, particularly coming after as hard fighting as they know how to do, and as a result we now get, as I am informed, from all sources but one story, and that of discouragement and exhaustion. The enemy is getting off his fight. What is to come next? Will Lee try to revive the spirits of his men and the fortunes of his Army by taking the offensive? Will he try to repeat the story of the Chickahominy and the six days’ fighting? What does Grant mean next to do? I have always noticed that when I try to divine the future of military operations I am invariably wrong, and so I long ago gave up trying. Of a few things though I feel pretty sure. Stonewall Jackson is dead, Grant is not McClellan, nor is Meade McDowell. Grant will not let his Army be idle, nor will he allow the initiative to be easily taken out of his hands, and if he can outfight Meade, he will do more than he was ever able to do yet when his troops were more numerous, in better heart and much fresher than they now are. Accordingly we find ourselves approaching the climax of the campaign, under circumstances which certainly seem to me hopeful. The next few days will probably develop Grant’s final move, the line on which he means to approach Richmond and the point at which he means, unless Lee out-generals him, to have the final fight. I don’t believe he will allow time to slip away or Lee to repair damages. I do believe that while the Army is resting today, it is drawing breath for the great struggle and on the eve of great movements and decisive results.

Things meanwhile work in the Army charmingly. Grant is certainly a very extraordinary man. He does not look it and might pass well enough for a dumpy and slouchy little subaltern, very fond of smoking. Neither do I know that he shews it in his conversation, for he never spoke to me and does n’t seem to be a very talkative man anyhow. They say his mouth shows character. It may, but it is so covered with beard that no one can vouch for it. The truth is, he is in appearance a very ordinary looking man, one who would attract attention neither in the one way or the other. Not knowing who it is, you would not pronounce him insignificant, and knowing who it is, it would require some study to find in his appearance material for hero worship, though there is about his face no indication of weakness or lack of force. He has not nearly so strong a head and face as Humphreys’, for instance, who at once strikes you as a man of force. In figure Grant is comical. He sits a horse well, but in walking he leans forward and toddles. Such being his-appearance, however, I do not think that any intelligent person could watch him, even from such a distance as mine, without concluding that he is a remarkable man. He handles those around him so quietly and well, he so evidently has the faculty of disposing of work and managing men, he is cool and quiet, almost stolid and as if stupid, in danger, and in a crisis he is one against whom all around, whether few in number or a great army as here, would instinctively lean. He is a man of the most exquisite judgment and tact. _See how he has handled this Army. He took command under the most unfavorable circumstances —jealousy between East and West; the Army of the Potomac and the Army of the Southwest; that general feeling that the officers from the West were going to swagger over those here and finally that universal envy which success creates and which is always ready to carp at it. The moment I came to Head Quarters I saw that, though nothing was said, yet the materials were all ready for an explosion at the first mistake Grant made. All this has passed away and now Grant has this army as firmly as ever he had that of the Southwest. He has effected this simply by the exercise of tact and good taste. He has humored us, he has given some promotions, he has made no parade of his authority, he has given no orders except through Meade, and Meade he treats with the utmost confidence and deference. The result is that even from the most jealously disposed and most indiscreet of Meade’s staff, not a word is heard against Grant. The result is of inestimable importance. The army has a head and confidence in that head. It has leaders and there is no discord among those leaders. We seem to have gotten rid of jealousy and all now seem disposed to go in with a will to win.

At last we have gotten out of the Wilderness. That interminable outline of pines of all sizes which it seemed never would end has given way to a clearer and more cultivated country, and now we come across the old Virginia plantation houses and can now and then see a regular clearing. The Wilderness was a most fearfully discouraging place — an enemy always in front, against whom the fiercest attack we could make made no impression; incessant fighting day after day; no progress forward, and the hospitals cleared out only to be filled again, while the country was becoming peopled with graves. There the Army got very much discouraged and took blue views of life. The straggling became terrible and you saw men the whole time and officers sometimes living in the woods or wandering round the country. At that time I take it Lee had accomplished his object and the Army of the Potomac was crippled. It could not effectively have advanced. At that time, however, it experienced the great advantage of Grant’s presence and power, for he at once re-enforced it by every available man round Washington, thus at once restoring its efficiency, while but for his power and name the Administration would, as heretofore, doubtless have defended Washington at the cost of all the fruits of this Army’s fighting. Thus Lee found himself again opposed by a fresh army and every new man who came up from the rear served to revive the spirits of those who had been here before. Now the Army is in capital condition and I feel once more sanguine; but the telegraphs of the steamer which brings this will tell the whole story.

Meanwhile I hear not a word of your negotiation. What has become of it? Is it not too late now? or is it supposed that disaster or success will bring the rebels to your terms? I do not even hear that that negotiation has as yet crept into the papers. But after all, it is of less consequence now, for formerly it might have stopped bloodshed, but now it can hardly be in time to do more than pave the way for conciliation. Since this month came in this war seems to have gone so far that now, in this last effort, either we must crush them or leave them so weak that little enough more blood will be left to shed. Pray keep me informed about this, and also do send me books and reading matter. Here at Head Quarters I have time and even Shakespeare is getting read out. . . .

Huntsville, Sunday, May 29. A calm, quiet, Sabbath day. Company inspection 8 A. M. 9 A. M. had to go on post. Could not go to church, but enjoyed myself well. Wrote home in the afternoon. Camp very quiet, boys mostly gone out. My musings were undisturbed. In the evening a bevy of staff officers visited camp, but were so beastly drunk as to be unable to carry themselves with propriety, racing their horses after negroes, etc. Their conduct would be disgraceful to a private. One of the staff officers of Sherman among them. Such are the examples our superior officers set before us. Can we expect anything but demoralization?

May 29th. Left camp early this hot morning. Pushing up the valley. Passed through Woodstock. Very few people to be seen. They still inform us that they hate the Yankees. Hope we will all be captured and be sent to Richmond. Came to a halt at Mount Jackson. Line of battle formed. The advance are having a hot time, as we can plainly hear the boom of the guns. Passing over the battle-field of the 15th, stopping near New Market. I am in the best of health. Rations running low. Would like more to eat. Hot, cloudy, muggy weather. Our march today covers twenty miles.

29th. Sunday. Reached the 3rd Div. C. C. little before midnight. 1st Brigade Col. McIntosh. Camped near Hanovertown on the Pamunkey. Crossed the Mattapony today and passed through Dunkirk. Like to remain with the Regt.

by John Beauchamp Jones

            MAY 29TH.—Bright and quite cold.

            There was skirmishing yesterday evening on the Chickahominy.

            The armies are confronting each other, but Grant is moving gradually to the right of us, as if with an intention to reach the James River; but probably it is with the view of enveloping us with his superior numbers, and the GREAT BATTLE may occur at any hour. The train of cars, laden, in Broad Street, destined a few days ago to transport provisions, etc. to Gen. Lee’s army, are visited hourly by wagons from the army, now in the immediate vicinity.

            This morning the Secretary’s time is occupied in giving audience to citizens who have fled from the vicinity of the enemy, but whose exaggerated accounts really furnish no reliable information. Of what benefit, in such a crisis as this, is the tale of desolation in the track of Grant’s army, the destruction of crops, the robbery of children of their silver cups and spoons, etc.? And yet these are the things which occupy much time.