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

Diary of a Young Officer–Josiah Marshall Favill (57th New York Infantry)

May 16th. This morning was simply perfect; early the air was resonant with the music of birds, and later on with the music of numerous bands. What would an army be without music? Music puts us in good humor, braces our nerves, and makes us cheerful and contented, whatever our surroundings may chance to be. It would be a dreary service indeed without music, and I don’t believe the men could be kept together without it. The country we marched over yesterday was covered everywhere with pines, few cultivated fields or houses, apparently a desert waste. Our quarters are just under cover of some large pines, with open ground in front; on every side, as far as the eye can reach, are vast camps of men, horses, guns, and wagons; orderlies and aides ride everywhere; batteries are moving into position, flags flutter in the breeze, and picturesque groups of men and horses are indefinitely multiplied; in fact, on all sides we see the glorious pomp and circumstance of war, and in dead earnest too, for are we not separated from the foe by only two small miles? Who would not be a soldier in time of war?

Why we should remain inactive all day long so near the enemy I can’t find out, unless it is to give him a chance to intrench; it is very clear we are not going to surprise anybody. In the meantime, we have been occupying ourselves in the study of natural history, particularly with the pine tick, an insect abounding in these parts; it has a spiral proboscis by which it screws itself fast to the fleshy part of one’s body, without attracting attention or causing any pain, and then quietly proceeds to gorge itself with blood, until it swells to the size of a large coffee berry, and looks almost exactly like one in color and shape. It is at this stage that you begin to feel an itching, and looking for the cause, find half a dozen or more of these ugly black-looking berries sticking on your legs; naturally, you yank them off without hesitancy, but are astonished to find the itching increases, and the inflammation and swelling continues spreading. Upon a close inspection, one finds that on pulling the creature off, his proboscis was left behind, imbedded deeply in the flesh, and this is the cause, or seems to be, of all the trouble. The remedy is to boldly cut out the offending head; there is, however, a scientific method of removing them, when first discovered, and that is, simply to unscrew them; seizing them carefully between the thumb and forefinger, you gently turn to the left, and are surprised to find they come out easily, and completely, exactly like a screw.

May 15th. At eleven o’clock last night, after all had turned in, and most of us were asleep, an orderly routed me out with written orders to have breakfast, and be ready to march at four o’clock in the morning. I ordered reveille at 2 A. M., and at that hour the regiment turned out and prepared breakfast; we had plenty of time, and so took it leisurely, forming on the color line, in full marching order, just at four o’clock. The brigade did not move until five o’clock, but after once started, did some fine work, never halting till twelve noon, and then only for an hour. We fell in again, continuing the march till four P. M., then filed off into a dense pine woods, and bivouacked for the night. The first part of the day’s march was capital, the weather fine, and the road hard and dry, but about two o’clock in the afternoon, it commenced raining, and at the time we went into bivouac, it poured down in torrents. It is a singular coincidence that when active operations begin, it invariably rains; on the advance to Manassas; the day after landing at Yorktown, and on the day we commenced the pursuit of the rebels to Williamsburg; not to mention the memorable retreat after the battle of Bull Run. If there were any kind of roads in this country, it would not matter so much, but they are all clay, and the center of the road is universally the lowest part of it, in consequence, an hour’s rain makes them impassable for artillery or wagons, and laborious and difficult for infantry. We are a mile from Cumberland Landing, on the Pamunkey, and within two miles of the enemy, who are concentrated and awaiting our approach. After a supper of hard tack and coffee, the men turned in, pretty well exhausted by the march and bad roads; headquarters followed suit, and by nine o’clock all were asleep.

May 14th. Weather magnificent. Providence, this time, is surely on our side, and why we do not take advantage of the splendid roads and close quickly on the rebel army, I cannot understand, nor do I find any one who can; the enemy could not have a more accommodating foe than we, since we give them all the time they want for preparation, and advertise everything we do. The great campaigns of history were not conducted on this plan, and one cannot help thinking our general a little slow; luckily, the rebs are about as slow, or something very disagreeable might happen. This part of the country is better cultivated, and more interesting than any we have seen before; there are more large houses, and the soil seems better, but nowhere yet have I seen a grass field. Most of the houses are occupied by women, and in such cases they are quite safe, but where they are abandoned, the soldier makes himself free with whatever suits his fancy. The colonel inspected the regiment during the morning, and in his opinion, it never looked so well before. It turned out just six hundred muskets, every man fully equipped, well armed, and clothed; the men’s boots and brasses shone like burnished steel, and every one felt and looked his very best. General French was enthusiastic in his praise, and said no regiment of the old army ever made a better appearance. We ought to be as good as any, of course, having worked, and drilled, and studied, every day for almost a year, and have with us more than a hundred men, who served many years in the old army before enlisting in the Fifty-seventh; moreover, the colonel is a thorough soldier, maintaining the strictest discipline, and is absolutely perfect in drill and tactics.

May 13th. By seven o’clock yesterday morning, the regiment was on board the steamer Louisa, and heading up the York river. The colonel had no orders, excepting those to go on board, and only found out his destination from the captain of the boat, who said he was to go to West Point. We were the last regiment to leave, and are glad to get away. Arriving at West Point towards evening, we steamed about four miles up the Pamunkey, a very narrow but deep stream, when the boat stopped and anchored about dark; in the morning the colonel sent me ashore to find out where we were expected to land. Broom volunteered to go along, and so together getting into a boat, we were rowed ashore, and soon ascertained that our division was in camp about two miles further up the river, so we returned to the ship. The captain weighed anchor and steamed slowly ahead, until opposite a wharf, where we disembarked, and marched to the ground reserved for us. The whole division lay here encamped in an enormous corn field, surrounded on three sides by dense pine woods; a delightful situation, but without water, in consequence of which the men had to dig holes and collect the surface water, which was very warm and poor. In the evening held a reception at our headquarters, and had a jolly time, congratulating each other on being within so short a distance of the rebel capital, and once more united; the flowing bowl passed merrily, every one in the best of spirits.

May 11th. High wind all day long, driving clouds of sand before it, making it impossible to move outside with comfort. It being Sunday morning, we held the usual inspection, notwithstanding the bad weather. While the inspection was going on we received orders to prepare three days’ cooked rations, and be ready to embark early in the morning; the remainder of the day was occupied in preparing the rations and packing up.

May 10th. Heard this morning of the arrival of our advance at West Point. The troops had a small fight with a few rebels, but nothing to speak of; detailed companies F and G for a two days’ tour of building wharves; shortly after they left camp we were ordered to strike tents, and move forward to the ground vacated last evening by the Irish brigade. When we got there, we were obliged to detail half the regiment to police the ground before we could occupy it, the Irishmen having left it in such a villainous condition. The present site is close to the town, almost overlooking the docks; in the evening the colonel invited me to go in swimming with him. We drove down to the beach in a two-wheeled ambulance. Upon reaching a spot the colonel thought suitable, I got out and undressed, the colonel remaining inside to try the English plan, driving out far enough into the water, so that he could jump out, and swim without wading. When he got undressed and walked to the rear to plunge in, the old affair suddenly tilted up, and away went colonel and clothes, pell mell into the water! When he came to the surface and saw me laughing and the driver hiding his face, he swore like the army in Flanders, and pitched into the driver right and left; pretty soon, however, he began to laugh, too, but declared he would never bathe in a two-wheeled ambulance again. I sent the man back to camp to get him some dry clothes, so he was not very much put out after all.

May 9, 1862.

THE weather still continues remarkably fine, and the roads and fields are filled with dust, reminding one of summer. The colonel is taking advantage of it by drilling the regiment incessantly in battalion manœuvers, and now that all the officers are so well taught, the most complicated formations are executed without the slightest hitch.

The forwarding of troops to West Point goes along very slowly for want of boats, which shows McClellan did not anticipate an evacuation or speedy capture, as in either event we should be sure to need transports. There is no news from the front, and nothing doing in camp outside of routine duties. Made up the official record and various returns and received and distributed quite a mail; of late the mails have been most irregular, frequently going astray, sometimes getting entirely lost.

May 7th. There being no transportation for our command at present, we are quietly taking our ease, awaiting the quartermaster’s pleasure. Captains McKay and Curtiss, Doctor Dean and I rode out this morning to take a look at Yorktown and its fortifications. We found the town full of officers and soldiers, and wretchedly filthy. The works are well built and armed. We counted a lot of the cannon left behind by the rebels, amounting to about fifty; amongst them were a lot of old pieces, 32 and 42-inch ship carronades, dating back about one hundred years, but there were several modern eight-inch Columbiads, and four nine-inch Dahlgrens, which were too heavy, I suppose, to carry away. On the glacis our troops found a lot of loaded shells buried in the ground, with percussion fuses so arranged that a man stepping on one of them caused it to explode. These villainous contrivances were thickly planted all over the glacis, quite out of sight, and would have caused great loss and confusion if we had ever charged over them. The shells are mostly eight-inch ones and were expected to have done a lot of damage. We congratulated ourselves on the good taste the enemy showed in surrendering without a fight; artillery men were at work digging them up while we were looking on. In the streets were any quantity of pigs, narrow-visaged, black, vicious looking fellows, browsing about the gutters, and a few ugly, dirty, common women, who lived in shanties forming the dirty, straggling streets. It is, and must always have been, a poor spot, and yet beautifully situated with every facility for a large commerce. It is now to be transformed into a military depot and has already daily steam communication with Fortress Monroe. The wide river is full of vessels and gunboats, and thousands of men are at work building docks. Every hour in the day troops are embarking and being forwarded to West Point, which makes the docks a lively place. We were told to-day that the enemy’s rear guard evacuated Yorktown at 2:30 A. M. on the fourth, the bulk of their army having been withdrawn during the night of the third. Thus the rebels had made up their minds long before to evacuate the town when things became serious, and had been for over two weeks busily engaged sending away everything of value.

Franklin’s division sailed from here only yesterday, so the chance of its cutting off Magruder’s retreat to Richmond is rather slim.

May 6th. Glorious morning, roads hard again, and every vestige of Virginia mud has disappeared. Reveille at daylight, and after breakfast tents were struck, and the march back to Yorktown commenced. The country between Williamsburg and Yorktown is picturesque and interesting. There are many quaint and curious old colonial houses, dating back to revolutionary times, mostly deserted, and all in a dilapitated condition. In fact, wherever we have been so far, the general appearance of things is in sad contrast to those at home. Virginia, or what we have seen of it, seems to be a hundred years behind the age, poor, badly cultivated, and thinly populated. Arrived at Yorktown at four P.M. and bivouacked in close column of division near to the shore. As soon as the tents were pitched and guards established, leave was given to all off duty to go in swimming. Of course, every one went and enjoyed themselves immensely, it being the first swim the men have had since their enlistment. The shore is formed of beautiful white sand and shelves out so gradually that one can walk out for three or four hundred yards without getting into deep water. It was a lively scene, as we saw it from the high bank, nearly ten thousand men, splashing and swimming in the sea at one time. After dinner, when the men were all in camp, we made up a party of officers and enjoyed a swim ourselves.

May 5th. The drums beat reveille at daybreak, when about four hundred men fell in, the bulk of them having straggled in during the night. They were in a sorry plight, wet through and covered with mud from head to foot. As soon as the roll was called, the men were ordered to prepare breakfast, and immediately afterwards marched forward with the rest of the brigade. I was ordered to remain behind, collect the stragglers as they came along, and when all were up, march them forward to join the colonel in decent order. So when everybody had gone, I posted a man in the road to intercept the men as they came along, and then rode over to a farm house to get something to eat for my horse, as he had not been fed since the previous morning. By ten o’clock, nearly two hundred men having reported, pretty much all that were missing, we marched out in good order and joined the colonel about two o’clock. The regiments of our brigade were in bivouac, resting from their heavy march, enjoying the sunshine which was fast drying up the fields and roads. They gave us a hearty welcome as we came on the ground, and the colonel seemed glad to get the regiment together again. Lieutenant Broome, acting quartermaster in place of McKibbin, sick in hospital, soon afterwards came up in charge of the wagons with full supplies, and so we were all in good humor again. Stoneman with his cavalry caught up with Stuart’s cavalry at the half-way house yesterday and skirmished with them as far as the rebel line of earthworks at Williamsburg, where quite a little fight took place, our men finally withdrawing to await the arrival of the infantry. Hooker and Smith, each in command of his respective division, hurried to the support of the cavalry; Hooker by the route we followed, Smith by a road from Dam No. 1, running by Lee’s mills, which brought him up on our left. Kearny, Couch and Casey followed, we coming last. General Sumner, who is second in command, was sent to the front to assume command, by direction of General McClellan, who remained in Yorktown, we are told, for the purpose of shipping Franklin’s division and Porter’s corps up the York river to West Point to intercept the enemy’s retreat. As soon as Hooker came upon the field he opened the engagement with his own division, without orders from Sumner and without any knowledge of Smith’s whereabouts and succeeded at first in driving the enemy back and capturing some earthworks, but shortly afterwards, when the rebels brought up reinforcements, he was driven back in considerable disorder, losing two of his batteries. About noon of the 5th, he was badly beaten, but luckily for him, Kearny came up just in time, recovering the abandoned batteries and all the ground lost by Hooker during the morning, when darkness put an end to the fighting. In the meantime, Sumner arranged for a general combined attack. There were several unoccupied redoubts that the enemy had built here, and Hancock was sent with his own and another brigade and a battery to occupy them. Hancock took possession, garrisoned the redoubts, and throwing out a line of skirmishers found and took possession of several other works in front of him. The rebels were so fully occupied with the attack made by Hooker that they had entirely neglected their left, and when they found the redoubts in our hands were greatly astonished. A strong infantry force came up to drive Hancock out, forming just at the edge of the woods. Hancock’s command opened upon them when within range and supported by the fire of the redoubts soon threw them into disorder, finally charging them in splendid style, and capturing about four hundred. Amongst the wounded was General Early and several other officers. About four hundred men were killed outright. At night the situation was about the same as at the opening, Hancock holding what he had occupied without resistance, at first, and Kearny occupying the ground Hooker had been driven from early in the day; on the whole it was a failure on our part to make any decided impression, as we ought to have done. About five o’clock in the evening McClellan came on the ground and was loudly cheered. He was disappointed with the management of affairs and came up to arrange for a combined movement the next morning, but during the night the enemy abandoned Williamsburg and got away. We were immediately ordered back to Yorktown to take transports for West Point. It is reported that our loss is over two thousand men killed, wounded, and missing, and five guns, a mighty poor showing for the first attempt of this army. Thus ended the siege of Yorktown without our division firing a shot; every one is criticising every one else, of course. Heintzleman and Sumner are at loggerheads, and all the general officers are united only in disparaging each other. They are so dreadfully jealous that a combined and earnest attack seems almost impossible. The truth is that none of them has had any experience with large bodies of men and must learn by actual experience, as well as the private soldier; until they have done this, we are not likely to have any great success.