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

August 2014

Charles Francis Adams, Jr., to his mother

H.Q. Cav’y Escort, A. of P.
Before Petersburg, August 27,1864

I got back from Washington last evening, but have nothing later from London than the letters which I acknowledged a week ago today. In my mission to Washington I was quite successful in spite of the authorities of that place, for, most fortunately for me I went there strongly armed. Before going up I went to General Meade and stated to him my errand and scheme, and the General not only approved it himself but gave me a letter of introduction to General Grant, with which I next day went down and presented myself to the Lieutenant General. general ulysses s grantI found him sitting in front of his tent under a large fly talking with a couple of his staff. I stated my business and presented my letter. He told me to be seated, read my letter, thought an instant puffing at his eternal cigar and stroking his beard as he listened to what I had to say and then replied in a short decided way: “I will approve your plan and request the Secretary to issue you the horses and have an order made out for you to go to Washington to attend to it yourself.” This was three times what I had expected to get from him, as I had no idea he would send me to Washington or request the issue of the horses, and accordingly I at once became a violent Grant man. He immediately went into his tent and wrote the order on the back of Meade’s letter and then came out and talked about matters in general, the weather, Colonel Buchanan and the campaign, past, present and future, while my order to go to Washington was being made out. I had never talked with Grant before and was glad of this small chance. He certainly has all the simplicity of a very great man, of one whose head has in no way been turned by a rapid rise. A very approachable man, with easy, unaffected manners, neither stern nor vulgar, he talked to me much as he would had he been another Captain of Cavalry whom I was visiting on business. Just at that time Hancock was operating up the James, towards Richmond, and he gave me the last reports of what was doing there, and then discussed the campaign and the failure of Burnside’s mine, unequivocally attributing the last to the bad behavior of the men who constituted the storming party. He said that he ought to have routed Lee at Spottsylvania and would have done so but for his own misapprehension as to the enemy’s weak place, and when he found it out his reserve Corps (the 5th and 6th) were too deeply engaged to be available. So he went on discussing the enemy and their tenacity, talking in his calm, open, cheerful but dignified way, until my order came, when I got up and went off very well pleased with my interview. I have long known that Grant was a man of wonderful courage and composure — self-poise — but he must also be a man of remarkably kindly disposition and cheerful temper. He can’t, however, I imagine, be on very good terms with the authorities at Washington, for he spoke with the greatest contempt of the whole manner in which the Maryland invasion had been managed there.

The next morning I started for Washington and got there Thursday, finding John, as I told you. Then, and for the next week, I went through all the disgusting routine of one who waits upon those in power, dangling my heels in ante-rooms, on the walls of which I patiently studied maps and photographs, and those in high places shoved me from one to another as is their wont in such cases. All my success and good treatment was over. My business in Washington was to try and get the government, as they would not mount the 5th Cavalry on new horses, to give them enough old horses unfit for present service, owing to severe work in the present campaign, and to let them build them up while doing their present work at Point Lookout. The officials by no means approved of me or my scheme, or, I thought, of General Grant. To Major Williams I went first, he suggested Colonel Hardie; Colonel Hardie suggested Dana, Assistant Secretary of War; Dana suggested Colonel This or General That, but distinctly disapproved of my scheme. So, somewhat discouraged, I drifted back to Colonel Hardie and froze to his office until I could get admission to Mr. Stanton’s presence — the holy of holies. Seeing me resolved and getting weary of seeing me always there, Hardie suggested to me that General Halleck was my man, he being the chief of cavalry; and, in an evil moment, I allowed myself to be beguiled into stating my business to General Halleck. Here I caught fits. Halleck is certainly “a crusty cuss” and one, I should say, after Stanton’s own heart. In about one minute he signified an emphatic disapproval of me and of my plan, and of General Grant and of everything else, and concluded an emphatic statement that he would n’t give me a horse, if he had his own way, or without a positive order, by slamming his door in my face. I returned to Colonel Hardie somewhat depressed in spirit, but resolved now to grapple with old Stanton and have it over. As for my prospects, they had suddenly fallen in my own eyes and I would have sold out very cheap; and yet I was by no means disgusted with old Halleck individually. It is n’t pleasant to be roughed out of a man’s office and it’s decidedly unpleasant to have one’s pet scheme trampled under foot before one’s eyes, and then kicked out of doors; but I do like to see a man who can say “no” and say it with an emphasis, and for old Halleck’s capacity in this respect I can vouch. I have seen so much rascality round our departments and such bloody rascals innocently prosecuting their little pet schemes and grinding their harmless little axes, that I long ago came to the conclusion that the suaviter in modo would by no means always do in public officers, and that it was generally necessary with the men such have to deal with to knock them down so that they can’t get up. Accordingly I derived a grim satisfaction from the reflection that if such was my reception by General Halleck, what must be the fate of the harpies and vultures who flock round the War Department. Anyhow I went back and resumed my dreary watch and ward in Hardie’s office.

Now Hardie is Stanton’s Chief of Staff and a nervous, gentlemanly man withal, and soon my silent, reproachful presence, even though but one of a silent, reproachful throng which crowded his office and from which one individual disappeared only that two more might struggle to enter, my presence began to haunt him, so he dashed at me, possessed himself of my papers and flung himself into the Secretary’s rooms. I grimly waited, hopeless and well-nigh indifferent. Presently Stanton himself scuffed into the office and after him came Hardie. Now for it, said I to myself; but the American Carnot took no notice of me, but scuffed off through the room and Hardie gave me my paper with an endorsement from the Secretary upon it. Well, I had succeeded. Grant’s endorsement was too strong to be overlooked and I had gotten my horses, so, after being duly bandied through a score more officials, and this time being lucky enough to hit on a polite streak of these cattle, I finished my business in Washington and, Thursday noon, took boat for City Point.

This, of course, settled my fate as to what regiment I was to belong to, and I came back only to leave my old regiment and company. . . . I can’t say that I leave my old regiment with any feeling of regret. In it, as a whole, there are few who know or care for me and my whole life in the regiment was embittered and poisoned. . . . As for my squadron, however, my feelings are very different. Here all my association has been pleasant. We have never had any family quarrels or bickerings and with them, at least, my career has been a success. Still it’s high time I went. Here I have done my work as well as I know how to do it, and I am getting nervous and restless and discontented. For a time the 5th will serve me as a new object of interest and in working over that I shall hope for a time to keep myself contented and quiet in the service and when that plays out, I must look for something new; but I am very tired of the war.

The brilliant military criticisms in my recent letters have come ludicrously to nought. Here we are, in spite of my announcement that military operations had evidently come to a close in these parts until autumn, pounding again fiercely away at each other. Grant certainly deceives friends as well as foes in regard to his movements. So far we seem this time to have the inside track, and Lee has spilt a good deal of blood, which he could ill spare, in trying to get it away from us. It is a great point gained for us when he is forced to take the offensive, and if this kind of thing goes on, this steady fighting all summer long, Lee won’t have much left to winter in Richmond. . . .

August 27th. Came off picket duty very early this morning. It was discovered that the enemy was on the march southward. Some of our boys having recovered from wounds and sickness, returned today for duty. Some have died, others discharged from the service. Owing to the severe duty our regiment is greatly reduced in numbers. We can only muster at this time, fit for duty, one hundred and twenty. Commanded by Captain Martin V. B. Tiffany, Co. I. No field officer on duty except Adjutant Geo. W. Brady. Some of the officers of the regiment are still prisoners of war. Surprised when orders came for a dress parade outside the earthworks.

by John Beauchamp Jones

            AUGUST 27Th.—Bright morning, and fine shower last night. The people are smiling to-day from our success of Thursday, announced in the following dispatch from Gen. Lee:

“HEADQUARTERS ARMY NORTHERN VIRGINIA,
“August 26th, 1864.                           

“HON. J. A. SEDDON, SECRETARY OF WAR.
            “General A. P. Hill attacked the enemy in his intrenchments at Reams’s Station yesterday evening, and at the second assault carried his entire line.
            “Cook’s and McRae’s North Carolina brigades, under Gen. Heth, and Lane’s North Carolina brigade, of Wilcox’s division, under Gen. Connor, with Pegram’s artillery, composed the assaulting party.
            “One line of breastworks was carried by the cavalry under Gen. Hampton with great gallantry, who contributed largely to the success of the day.
            “Seven stands of colors, two thousand prisoners, and nine pieces of artillery are in our possession.
            “The loss of the enemy in killed and wounded is reported to be heavy—ours relatively small.
            “Our profound gratitude is due to the Giver of all victory, and our thanks to the brave men and officers engaged.

“R. E. LEE.”              

            It is said to-day that our captures will amount to 2500, and a brigadier-general is among the prisoners.

            The President intimated to-day to the Secretary that when he respites a prisoner condemned to death, he does not desire the case brought to him again to approve the execution.

26th. Moved out at daylight. Overtook the command before it reached Boonsboro. Called on Bayard and Babcock. Was up on Maryland Heights day before yesterday. Camped at Boonsboro.

Friday, 26th—A large number of the boys are going home on furloughs. Their papers came in from the front today, signed up, and the boys are to start home tomorrow. Thomas R. McConnoll and John Zitler of our company are among them. I am sending $25.00 home to father by John Zitler. That makes a total of $445.40 which I have sent home. A. G. Downing, Company E, Eleventh Iowa, Veteran Volunteers.

Chesapeake Hospital,
August 26, 1864.

Dear Father:—

This letter of yours has been to Hilton Head I suppose, and then to the Army of the Potomac, and next day, by the kindness of Captain Dickey, to me here. He is a captain, that same Dickey. His good qualities wear like steel.

Twenty days old this letter is. In that time you must have received several from me, not all addressed to you, but to the family, some of them, papers for the boys, and one I sent to Mother with a little note about the picture. I don’t believe they can all have miscarried. Well, one thing is certain, it won’t take a month for letters to pass now, and I comfort myself by thinking that you will be reading this about Monday or Tuesday next, and by and by all this arriere will be straightened up.

After hearing what you have had to occupy you lately, I recall my impatient remarks about your want of interest, etc. Indeed, they were not leveled at you. Though you give every other reason I know that you do not like to write letters. You sit down to it as to a job that must be done and I do not expect you to write often.

I had an idea that I had a sister out there who (if she follows the track of young persons of her sex) must be quite a young lady by this time. Young ladies are supposed to wield a ready pen, to be familiar with the state of the family and to love to gossip about it. They generally have time enough, but despite all my ideas, hypotheses, etc., I find a married sister with a husband to take care of, a house to sweep, the stockings to darn, and the slight care of a dairy—I find her writing to me every week, while this young lady finds time about once in six months. E. is a “brick.” He writes as often as he can, and, though I haven’t received any from him of very late date, I lay it to the bags. I hope soon to hear from him that he is back in the hardware in Toledo. “What would you think,” he says in his last, “if I should get as large a salary as Father’s?” He got a stomach-full of the army in one hundred days. If he goes again, it will be with a strong impression that he can’t help it. I wrote to him, directing to Brooklyn, thinking of course he would be at home a few days, or at least you would know where he is. He said Mr. P. was very anxious he should come back to his store, but he himself did not seem very anxious to accept so advantageous a situation.

I am very sorry to hear of your trouble about the house; however I suppose it is all over now. I hope so at least. I should think with such a scarcity of dwellings some Yankee would be putting up houses to rent. I had very much such a time as yours approached, just before coming here. Getting sick in camp, I was left behind unable to march. “In camp” in the Army of the Potomac now is a pleasant fiction, meaning any place a regiment bivouacs on over night. So they moved away and left me, our efficient medical staff making no provision for sick. Two days I stayed there, living on the kindness of some sick men from Maine. Then our adjutant came and mounted me on his own horse, like a good Samaritan, and took me to the corps hospital. The medical director wanted to see my papers. I must be committed like a pauper to the poorhouse. I was “liable to be arrested” for absence from my regiment without authority. You may understand it was trying to my temper to be called a skulk the first time I came near a hospital in more than three years. I turned away from him in disgust and lay down under a tree on the bank of the river. The adjutant left me there and said he would not rest till he had got the order sending me to the hospital. So there I lay and my thoughts were not pleasant. By and by I heard a rattle of musketry and knew my regiment was “in.” Then it blew and began to rain. I curled myself up in my gum blanket and felt miserable enough, sick, weak, and no place to shelter my head.

The next afternoon a doctor came and asked me who I was and how I came there. I told him my story and he had the kindness to be shocked—”didn’t see into it—anyone could see I was sick—didn’t need any papers” and he immediately wrote the papers I enclose and sent me on the boat. I feel very weak, have only been out doors once. If it were any use I would apply for leave of absence as soon as I am able to travel, but it is not. I would be ordered to Annapolis and put on court-martial or some other light duty. It is next to impossible to get leave of absence.

The Eighth has redeemed any reputation it lost at Olustee. It was the Eighth before which “eighty-two dead rebels were counted after the battle,” according to Birney’s dispatch.

Etowah Bridge, Friday, Aug. 26. All the morning quiet in these parts. Rebels very troublesome between Allatoona and Acworth, cutting up the track, creating scares, etc. Efforts were made to hear of or find the lost boys to-day but to no avail. The last heard of them they were in a peach orchard, while the horses were grazing, where they were undoubtedly gobbled. I fear they will be brutally murdered.

Friday, August 26. — Passed the most comfortable night we have as yet had in the prison. Captain Amory is a little under the weather. He walked in his sleep. There are nine of us in the room : Colonel Marshall, Colonel White of the 31st Maine, Major Filler of Pennsylvania, Lieutenant Colonel Buffum of Rhode Island, Captain Amory and Captain McChesney.

Aug. 26th. The regt. was detailed for picket. I sat up till 11.30 P.M. and was relieved.

August 26th. This morning finds us still in line at Halltown. A large force of skirmishers ordered outside the rifle pits. Must charge on the enemy, drive them back. The enemy in strong force, well posted. The skirmish was hot while it lasted. A number of our boys were wounded, carried inside our lines. Late in the day all became quiet. I am detailed for picket duty tonight. The boys are sleeping tonight with equipments on, ready for a sudden call to duty. We are often obliged to sleep with our guns in our arms.