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

Journal of Surgeon Alfred L Castleman.

14th.—At White House. Marched here to-day. It is known as the “Custis Estate,” and is now owned by the rebel General Lee, nephew of the wife of General Washton, and has on it a large family of negroes, about 300. ‘Twas here that General Washington overstaid his leave, the only time during his eventful life that he was known to be guilty of a breach of military discipline. Here he courted and married his wife. It is a most beautiful place on the banks of the Pamunkey river. It consists of about 5,000 acres and we now pasture our horses in a field of 1,000 acres of the prettiest wheat I ever saw. ‘Tis waist high, thick on the ground, just heading out, and stretches away down the river as far as the sight can reach. By the side of it is an immense plain of rich and luxuriant clover, on which is encamped our army of about 80,000, with all the concomitants of horses, mules, ambulances, transportation wagons, &c.

Close by our encampment runs the Pamunkey River, up and down which a crowd of transports, gun boats, steamers, schooners, and all manner of water craft, are constantly passing. And here again we get another view of the blasting influence of the institution of Slavery—the most beautiful country on earth, with a fine navigable stream opening to it the markets of the world, and yet in its whole course of 100 miles, it has not, in two hundred and fifty years, built up a town of one thousand inhabitants.

We found and captured on this farm five thousand bushels of corn and seven thousand bushels of wheat. On this place, too, crosses the railroad from Richmond to West Point, making it a strong strategic point.

One circumstance occurred on our arrival here this morning, showing the distance between officers and men, and so characteristic is it of the man, that I cannot refrain from recording it in my journal, as “food for thoughts” hereafter. We found some negroes drawing a seine in the river here. Some soldiers made a bargain to make a draw for them, fixing price and paying for it. The men had been on short rations of hard bread and salt meat for several days. Being compelled to carry their provisions in their haversacks, they can carry nothing but this simple food, whilst the officers, having transportation at command, take with them all the comforts of the country. Well, the net was cast, and whilst the drawing was going on, General H______ rode down to the beach and watched the operation with much apparent interest. The draught was nearly at shore; the hungry mouths, and watching eyes of the soldiers were being gratified by the anticipations of a joyous feast, for it was now beyond doubt that the net was cast at a propitious moment, and was coming in loaded with herring, shad and eels. But what right had common soldiers to indulgences like these? The General’s mouth watered too. The instant the draught was brought to land, the bayonets of the General’s guard bristled all around, and the General’s capacious bags received every fish. Off they were carried for himself and friends, without even a nod in acknowledgement. How ungrateful common soldiers must be not to love their commanders! How abject common soldiers are when compelled to submit to indignities like this, and dare not murmur! Now there was scarcely a soldier on that beach who would not have deemed it a pleasure to relinquish his right to what he so much coveted, at the request of his General, but to be driven from his rights by the bayonets of his legitimate protector!

Rains hard this P. M.

13th.—Again pulled up stakes and moved five or six miles, and brought up at Cumberland Landing, on the Pamunkey River. Here, on a large plain, surrounded by an amphitheatre of bluffs, were collected about 70,000 of our troops, presenting from the high ground a most magnificent sight. Spent the afternoon and night here.

12th.—No move to-day. Still encamped near West Point. Selected out our men disabled by sickness, and sent them off to general hospital. This is usually the precurser of active work. The crisis approaches. Let it come.

11th.—No move to-day. Nothing of importance transpiring. Atmosphere filled with all kinds of rumors of battles, but nothing authentic. We are in a beautiful country, and about thirty miles from Richmond. I am not surprised at the enemy having made a point at Warwick Creek. It separates the most God-forsaken, from the most Godly favored country. From Newport News to Warwick is truly forbidding; but on crossing that stream we strike into a country the natural advantages of which are extremely inviting; but still the same antiquated appearance of the improvements prevails, and there are no evidences of thrift or economy. We are having warm days, but the nights are cool and invigorating.

10th.—Another march of fifteen miles to-day. Have seen nothing of the enemy. We hear that General Franklin remained twenty-four hours at West Point before disembarking his troops, permitting the enemy to pass, and then attacking them in the rear! Has delay and procrastination become a chronic disease with our Generals? I hope he will be able to give a satisfactory reason for his course. It begins to look as if, when this Army of the Potomac can find no apology for digging, it will hunt up other excuses for delay.

I have had to ride in an ambulance to-day, in consequence of lameness from the bite of the horse yesterday.

9th—We started at 5 this A. M., in pursuit of the retreating army. Found the road lined with fragments of wagons, gun carriages and baggage of the retreating army, showing great haste. At night we are fifteen miles farther on the way to Richmond. I to-day had my knee-pan dislocated by the bite of a horse, and am suffering great pain to-night.

8th.—I spent this day chiefly with other Surgeons and Assistants in getting the wounded to the river and on transports. My former estimate of the casualties was certainly not an exaggeration, and I now think the loss to the two armies is not much short of 18,000. We hear that General Franklin had a fight with the enemy near West Point this afternoon, and was repulsed, The hope that he would intercept and destroy the army is blasted.

7th.—Magruder has not surrendered. This day has been spent by the Surgeons in care of the wounded, and by the troops in rest and rejoicing, at the favorable result of the battle of the 5th, which for a good part of the day threatened us with disaster. The enemy has evacuated Williamsburg, and we are in possession. Gen. Franklin, with his corps d’armee, yesterday left Yorktown on transports, for West Point, to get in advance of the enemy and cut off his retreat to Richmond. If he will be prompt, and accomplish this, it will end the war by mid-summer. We are now receiving Gen. McClellan’s telegraphic reports of the late battle. He exaggerates. Amongst other things he says that “Hancock’s success was gained with a loss of less than twenty in killed and wounded!” Why will Gen. McClellan undertake thus to deceive the country? Is it to elevate some favorite General? Hie cannot do that without, by comparison, depreciating others. Gen. Hancock had eight regiments under his command on that day. In one of those regiments alone I counted seventy-nine killed and wounded. True, the whole eight regiments were not actively engaged in the fight. True, too, that the regiment referred to suffered more than all the rest, but there were others killed and wounded; and even if there were not, the loss to this regiment alone quadruples the number reported by Gen. McClellan. I wish he would not so.

6th.—It is ascertained to-day that although we were entirely successful yesterday in driving the enemy from the field, and from his entrenchments, we did it at great cost. The aggregate loss to both armies cannot be less than 15,000 in killed and wounded. As far as we can now judge, this loss is about equally divided. Reports are rife to-day that Gen. Mugruder has surrendered with 12,000 men. At this report their is great rejoicing in camp, but it is not authenticated.[1]

I have spent this day at hard work amongst the wounded, not only of my own regiment, but of the army generally. Am very much now out to-night,[2] f Was visited to-day by Medical Director Tripler, with whom, after inspecting my own hospital, I went to General Hospital, at Whittaker’s.


[1] Since writing the above, I have heard it stated that Major Larrabee was not at his post during the fight. It is due to Major Larrabee to state emphatically that he was not only in the fight, but actively engaged wherever there were symptoms of wavering, and where duty called him.

[2] Early in the fight the gallant Captain Bugh, of Co. K, 5th Wisconsin, fell, badly wounded by a musket ball through the upper end of the thigh, shattering the bone badly. A braver or a better man never went to battle.

5th.—At 10 o’clock last night, I left the front line of battle, withdrew about half a mile, laid down on the ground by the side of a negro house, and about 2 this A. M., was made amusingly conscious of the fact, that underneath the eve of a roof is not a pleasant place to pillow one’s head during a heavy rain. I was not in the least thirsty. I crawled into a cellar near by, laid upon the damp brick floor, with my wet blanket over me, fell asleep and dreamed I was a “toad and fed upon the vapors of a dungeon.” But I was not a toad, though I own up to the vapors a little in the morning.

Detached from my regiment this morning to establish and organize a large army hospital at Whittaker’s. * * * *

It has been a bloody day. A battle has been fought and our enemy driven; but we have suffered terribly. About 7 A. M., Generals Hooker and Heintzleman came upon Fort Magruder, with our left wing. The enemy came out and met us. He seemed eager for the fray, which we had supposed he was running to avoid. He seemed determined and confident in his strength and position. Falling on Sickles’ Brigade, he decimated it at once. By noon, the battle on our left wing became general. General Hooker lost twelve guns, and by three o’clock our left wing was whipped and retreating in confusion.

At this time General McClellan, who, for some reason unknown to me, had been in the rear, was coming up, and met our flying battalions. By the active aid of his staff and a large escort, he succeeded in rallying our defeated army. He ordered up reinforcements, and sent them back to the field, where, though they could not drive the enemy, they maintained their ground. They retook Hooker’s lost guns, and captured one from the enemy. General Peck’s Brigade suffered severely, but he held them to the fight. The headquarters of the army and the large hospital of which I had control, were about two miles from Fort Magruder, around which the hottest of the fight raged. Shells were frequently falling and exploding in uncomfortable proximity to us, and by 3 o’clock could be heard ominous whispers about the necessity of abandoning our quarters, preparatory to a general retreat. The greatest anxiety now prevailed as to the fate of our army. The left could not hold out much longer without further reinforcements. The center had not been engaged. I hear that a dispute arose between Generals Sumner and Heintzleman, as to their rank, and that in the confusion resulting therefrom, the centre was not brought forward, nor were any of them sent to reinforce other parts of the line. (Strange that the Commander in Chief should not be with his army in a time like this!) The enemy were sending off forces to flank our right, and should they succeed in this movement and get into our rear, our whole army must inevitably be destroyed. The right wing was weak, consisting of only two brigades of General Smith’s Division—the first composed of 5th Wisconsin, 49th Pennsylvania, 6th Maine and 43rd New York, and the third composed of the 7th Maine, 33rd, 49th and 77th New York, all volunteers, with two batteries. General Davidson, who usually commanded this third brigade, being absent, the whole was under command of General W. S. Hancock. For some reason, the third brigade had not come up, and when the enemy’s detachments of six regiments, supported by a well mounted fort, the guns of which were in easy range of our lines, attacked our right, we had only the first brigade and the two batteries to contend against them. This was the position of affairs when, at half-past three o’clock, I left the large hospital crowded full of the wounded, to go to the right wing. Up to this time I had supposed our army invincible, at least by an enemy fleeing from us, and now I was utterly astounded to find our officers clearing the roads of teams, men and everything which could impede the retreat of our army, and bodies of our artillery collecting in front of all the gorges, to check the speed of a pursuing enemy. I dashed past all these, crossed Queen’s Creek, when a short ride brought me out into a large plain, in full view of our right wing, in line of battle, just as four regiments of the enemy emerged from the woods to the extreme right of our line of skirmishers. We were outflanked!

This was the most exciting moment of my life. Our left had been whipped, our centre had been passed, the Commander in Chief not on the field, the officers in command, instead of concentrating all their energies, were quarreling about their respective ranks, and had failed to reinforce the right, which had again and again sent for support, the enemy on the point of outflanking us here, and getting in our rear, in which, if successful, our army must be cut to pieces. At this moment, five companies of the 5th Wisconsin were skirmishing in the advance. Two of these companies on the right had just opened fire on the four regiments advancing. General Hancock had just given an order to fall back; the batteries, which, were in advance of all, instead of falling back, leisurely and in order, were whipping their horses, whooping, hollering, running from the field as if chased by a thousand devils; three of the four regiments of Hancock’s brigade were falling back in obedience to the order; whilst the Fifth Wisconsin, not hearing the order, or determined not to abandon their skirmishing on the field, was continuing the fight against the immense odds of four to one. Nobly did it fight, every shot seeming to tell on the advancing foe. But just then, as if to add to the certainty of our destruction, two other regiments of the enemy emerged from the abattis on the left of this wing, and were bearing directly down on the little band so nobly fighting under such disadvantage. Between these two regiments and the fighting columns was one company of the Fifth Wisconsin, skirmishing under command of Lieutenant Walker. His quick eye told him that the only hope of salvation for our army was to prevent the uniting of these forces with those now fighting, and with his little band of sixty brave men, he boldly confronted the advancing fifteen hundred, supported by their fort, not six hundred yards off. At this critical juncture, there is a moment’s relief. Our third brigade is seen in the distance—but it is too far away to afford effective aid. Again the eye reverts, as the only hope, to the fighting battalions. Lieut. Walker is manœuvring his handful of men into fighting position under cover of a fence, from which they delivered their shot into the approaching mass with wonderful effect; but still the mass advanced, and he was seen passing along his line amid the rain and the lightning of the battle, whilst his voice was heard above its roar. Suddenly a flash along the whole fort’s front, a roar of cannon, and the shrieks of shot and shell, made my blood run cold as I saw the Lieutenant whirled into the air and disappear among the rails and rubbish. The little band fell back; the cheering voice was hushed—but for a moment. Instantly he was seen emerging from the rubbish—the voice was again heard— back rushed the little band to the fight—the two bodies of the rebel army failed to connect—the battle of Queen’s Creek was won—and the army of the Potomac was saved. But in recording the part taken by Lieutenant Walker and his brave band, I must not omit to fix permanently the heroism displayed by the main body of this regiment, who carried on the fight with the four flanking regiments of the enemy. Every man seemed most of the time to be fighting after his own plan, and on his own responsibility. The five companies skirmishing were under the general command of Lieutenant Colonel Emery, to whose firmness and coolness much of our success is to be attributed. The remaining five companies were in line under Colonel Amasa Cobb. The fight was commenced on our skirmishers,[1] who slowly fell back, contesting every inch of ground till they reached their supports, who now joined in the fight, slowly falling back to the main line. The relative positions of the 5th Wisconsin, the enemy’s advancing line, and our regiments which had fallen back on the order of Gen. Hancock, were such as to prevent the rear regiments from aiding the 5th Wisconsin. It was precisely between them and the enemy, and a fire from them would have been destructive to our own men. Why Gen. Hancock did not change their position, I cannot imagine, unless under the excitement, he forgot it. To me his sole object seemed to be to get the Wisconsin regiment out of danger. The enemy were pressing it. It was sending its vollies with the deliberation and precision of marksmen at a shooting match, and at every one, the ranks of the enemy were literally mowed down. It still fell back towards the main line, firing and fighting. By the time that it reached this line the enemy’s ranks were so thinned that our success was now certain. It reached the main body, and one volley from our entire brigade ended the fight. At this moment, an order to “charge ” was given, but simultaneously with the order, the enemy displayed a white flag, and the order was countermanded. No charge was made, the firing instantly ceased, the battle was won. In twenty-one minutes from the time that the firing commenced, these four regiments were so utterly destroyed that the two regiments which Lieutenant Walker had held in check, saw the futility of a further endeavor to reach them in time, and they, too, fell back. They left in dead and wounded about seven hundred on the field. The main body of the enemy, which had been so severely punishing our left, seeing our right driving their friends, fell back on Williamsburg, leaving their dead and wounded, their fortifications, and the field in our possession. Thus ended the great battle of Williamsburg, including the battle of Queen’s Creek. The loss has been heavy on both sides, but the extent of it has not yet been ascertained.

After the battle closed, I spent the evening and night in caring for the wounded of my regiment, for whom I organized a separate hospital, keeping charge of them myself. I had seen so much indiscriminate amputating of limbs, that I determined it should not be so in my regiment, so long as it could be avoided by any efforts of mine.


[1] In this skirmishing, the companies of Captains Wheeler, Evans, Bugh, and Catlin, were engaged. Every officer, as well as every soldier, proved himself a hero.