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

The American Civil War

February 11.—The Nashville American, of this day, has the following: From the beginning of this war to the present time, the constant cry of the people of the South has been, God and the British are on our side. That cry has seemed to satisfy too many of these whose lives and all have been at stake, that we would triumph without proper energy of our own. The first news that is looked for in the morning paper is the “Latest Foreign Intelligence.” We are like the “unprofitable servant” to whom was given the one talent. Instead of putting it to use, we have digged in the earth and hid that which was given to us. Still we put our trust in God and the British. The disaster at Fishing Creek, and the equally fatal result at Fort Henry, may begin to open our eyes to the fact that God and the British will not help us until we learn to help ourselves. These defeats may also teach us that which every great general found out before he fought many battles, that individual bravery is valueless against organized drill and discipline. It behooves the people of Tennessee, at least to awake to the impending danger. The twelve months system of volunteering will not save us. The hordes of Lincoln have volunteered for the war to subjugate. Will we not enlist for the same length of time to defend ourselves and our homes?

—Dr. Luther V. Belt,, Medical Director to Gen. Hooker’s division, in the National Army, died a camp, near Budd’s Ferry, Md., this evening.

Dr. Bell was a distinguished physician, a native of New-Hampshire, and enjoyed a prominent European as well as national reputation. His family connections, as well as himself, filled many of the most honorable and important positions in the records of his native State. Subsequently he removed to Massachusetts, and took charge of the McLean Asylum for the Insane, at Somerville, in which position he won the attention and applause of eminent European physicians, as well as these of his more immediate surroundings. For several years he was also President of the Massachusetts Medical Society. He had always taken a lively interest in politics, and held many important offices, among which may be mentioned that of the Governor’s Council. He was also several times made a candidate for Congress, and the Gubernatorial chair of Massachusetts.

Immediately following the attack on Fort Sumter, he offered himself to the Governor of Massachusetts as surgeon in any of the regiments which might require his service. His offer was eagerly accepted, and he was appointed Surgeon to the Eleventh Massachusetts volunteers, and with them departed for the seat of war. He was present at the battle of Bull Run, and distinguished himself by his unremitting attentions to the wounded, both friends and foes, and among the last he lingered devotedly among the suffering soldiers on the field, upon the retreat of the forces on Washington. Soon after he was appointed by President Lincoln a Brigade-Surgeon, under General Hooker.

When Gen. Hooker was appointed Major-General of a division, Dr. Bell was promoted to his staff, and since acted as Medical Director.

He was amiable and courteous, and was greatly beloved by all with whom he came in contact, and by none more so than the officers and soldiers of the Eleventh Massachusetts volunteers, who experienced the pleasures and benefits of his generous liberality and eminent medical skill.— N. Y. Times, February 23.

—This afternoon, the Sawyer gun, at Newport News, Va., burst while being fired. Privates Josiah Jones, of Company C, and James Shepard, of Company B, of the Twenty-ninth Massachusetts regiment, were instantly killed, and W. W. Bowman, of Company I, same regiment, was seriously injured. Jones belonged in Greenpoint, Long Island, and Shepard in Lowell, Mass. Four or five other persons, who were in the vicinity, were also injured, but none of them seriously.

—A flag of truce was sent from Fortress Monroe to Craney Island, Va., early this morning, to inform General Huger that the prisoners of war from Fort Warren, had arrived. The bark was accordingly towed up opposite Sewell’s Point, by the steamer Rancocas, and the tug Adriatic; and at about one o’clock, the rebel steamer West Point came out from Norfolk, and the prisoners were transferred. They numbered four captains, three first lieutenants, six second lieutenants, two third lieutenants, and three hundred and eighty four others, rank and file, and colored servants. They were taken at Hatteras and Santa Rosa, and were the last of the prisoners of war at Fort Warren, except Commodore Barron.

—The Richmond Examiner, of this date, publishes an elaborate communication, the object of which is to show that the proper national emblem for the South, would be a “single star.” The editor, however, disapproves the idea, as not original, and suggests that a more appropriate symbol is the “horse.”—(Doc. 34.)

Feb. 10. The prisoners are a motley looking set, all clothed (I can hardly say uniformed) in a dirty looking homespun gray cloth. I should think every man’s suit was cut from a design of his own. Some wore what was probably meant for a frock coat, others wore jackets or roundabouts; some of the coats were long skirted, others short; some tight fitting, others loose; and no two men were dressed alike. Their head covering was in unison with the rest of their rig; of all kinds, from stovepipe hats to coonskin caps; with everything for blankets, from old bedquilts, cotton bagging, strips of carpet to Buffalo robes. The Wise legion are a more soldierly looking set; they wear gray cloth caps of the same pattern, and long sheep’s gray overcoats with capes. Most of the officers are smart, good looking young men, wearing well-fitting gray uniforms, not unlike those of our own officers.

It is not dress altogether that makes the man or the soldier. I find among these chaps some pretty good fellows. I came across one young man from Richmond; he was smart appearing and very loquacious. In some talk I had with him he said; “This has turned out not as I wished, but not different from what I expected when we saw the force you had. In fact we had no business staying here after seeing your strength. We have met the enemy and we are theirs. I accept the situation and am glad it is no worse. I am Secesh clear through, and after I am exchanged, shall be at you again. We are now enemies, but in peace friends, and when this little dispute is settled, if any of you fellows ever come to Richmond, hunt me up. If alive, you will be welcome as long as you choose to stay, and when you leave, if you don’t say you have had as right smart a time as you ever had, call me a liar and I will call you gentlemen.” The fellow gave me his card and said his father owned a plantation just out of the city.

I met one fellow, a long, lank, lean, long-haired, sullen, cadaverous looking chap, and asked him what he was doing here. “Well,” he said, “not much; but you ‘uns was right smart to get through that swamp. We thought the devil couldn’t get through it.” “So you think what the devil can’t do, Yankees can’t, do you? You mustn’t take the devil for your guage in estimating Yankees; if you do you will always get beat. We can give him points, and bent him every time.” He looked a little incredulous, but did not seem inclined to go into any argument about it.

These fellows threw away a good many pistols and knives which they carried, many of which our boys have found. The knives are large, coarse, ugly looking things, forged at some country blacksmith shop, by a bungling workman, out of old rasps, scythe-points and anything containing steel. I asked one fellow what they carried those knives for, what use they put them to? “Oh!” he said, “them’s Yankee slayers.” “Yankee slayers? And have you slain many Yankees with them?” “Wal, no, but we thought they mought come handy in close action.” “And did you think you would ever get near enough to the Yankees to use them?” “Wal, we didn’t know but we mought.” “Well, sir, those knives are too heavy to carry, and you don’t need to carry them, for long before you would ever get near enough to the Yankees to use them the places that now know you would know you no more forever.”

The boys are mixing in among the prisoners, talking over the fight, trading jack-knives, buttons and such small notions as they happen to have, and getting acquainted with each other. The weather is warm and pleasant, like May. The robins and other birds are singing as in summer. The robins seem like old friends and neighbors and I cannot help thinking that perhaps some of them had their nests last summer in the trees and bushes which grow in our own door yards and gardens at home.

Our gunboats have wiped from the face of the earth that part of the Confederate navy which prowled around these waters. They chased them up the Pasquotank river to Elizabeth City, where, after less than an hour’s engagement, the enemy set their boats on fire and fled.

Navy Department,
February 10, 1862.

Flag-officer D. G. Farragut, U. S. Navy,

Commanding Western
Gulf Blockading Squadron,

Ship Island,

Sir: I inclose to you herewith sketches from the United States Engineer Bureau relative to the works on the Mississippi River; also a memorandum prepared by General Barnard, United .States Army, who constructed Fort St. Philip. The most important operation of the war is confided to yourself and your brave associates, and every light possible to obtain should be carefully considered before putting into operation the plan which your judgment dictates.

approaches to New OrleansIt is reported that nineteen feet of water can be carried over the bar. If this be true, the frigate Mississippi can be got over without much difficulty. The Colorado draws about twenty-two feet; she lightens one inch to twenty-four tons; her keel is about two feet deep. The frigate Wabash, when in New York in 1858, drew, without her spar-deck guns, stores, water casks, tanks, and coal (excepting thirty tons), aft twenty feet four inches, forward sixteen feet, or on an even keel eighteen feet four inches. This would indicate a very easy passage for this noble vessel, and, if it be possible to get these two steamers over, and perhaps a sailing vessel also, you will take care to use every exertion to do so. The powerful tugs in the bomb flotilla will afford the necessary pulling power. The tops of these large steamers are from thirty to fifty feet above the fort, and command the parapets and interior completely with howitzers and musketry. The Wachusett at Boston; the Oneida, Richmond, Varuna, and Dakota at New York; and the Iroquois from the West Indies, are ordered to report to you with all practicable dispatch, and every gunboat which can be got ready in time will have the same orders. All of the bomb-vessels have sailed, and the steamers to accompany them are being prepared with great dispatch. It is believed the last will be off by the 16th instant.

Eighteen thousand men are being sent to the Gulf to cooperate in the movements which will give to the arms of the United States full possession of the ports within the limits of your command. You will, however, carry out your instructions with regard to the Mississippi and Mobile without any delay beyond that imposed upon you by your own careful preparations. A division from Ship Island will probably be ready to occupy the forts that will fall into your hands. The Department relies upon your skill to give direction to the powerful force placed at your disposal, and upon your personal character to infuse a hearty cooperation among your officers, free from unworthy jealousies. If successful, you open the way to the sea for the great West, never again to be closed. The rebellion will be riven in the centre, and the flag to which you have been so faithful will recover its supremacy in every State.

Very respectfully, etc.,

Gideon Welles.

Monday Night.—Still greater uneasiness about Roanoke Island. It is so important to us—is said to be the key to Norfolk; indeed, to all Eastern North Carolina, and Southeastern Virginia. We dread to-morrow’s papers.

The lady on Street has disappointed me. She met me with a radiant smile when I went to see her this evening, saying, “She agrees; she must, however, remove the wardrobe and bureau, as she wants them herself; but there’s a closet in the room, which will answer for a wardrobe, and I reckon that a table with a glass on it will do for a bureau.” “Oh, yes; only give me a good bed, some chairs and a washstand, and I can get along very well. Can I see the room?” “Yes; it is a back-room in the third story, but I reckon you won’t mind that.” My heart did sink a little at that communication, when I remembered Mr. _____’s long walks from Bank Street; but there was no alternative, and I followed her up the steps. Great was my relief to find a large airy room, neatly carpeted, and pleasant in all respects. “This will do,” said I; “take the wardrobe and bureau out, and put a table in, and I shall be very well satisfied.” “I have a small table,” she replied, “but no glass; you will have to buy that.” “Very well, I will do that. But you have not yet told me your terms.” “Will you keep a fire?” “Oh, certainly, in my room.” “Then my charge is ___.” I stood aghast!” My dear madam,” said I, “that is twenty dollars more than the usual price, and three dollars less than our whole salary per month.” “Well, I can’t take a cent less; other people take less because they want to fill their rooms, but I was only going to take you for accommodation; and I can fill my rooms at any time.” Now the lines of her face were not undecided. I turned, and as I walked up the already lighted streets of my native city, feeling forlorn and houseless,

“In happy homes I saw the light

Of household fires gleam warm and bright;”

and hope that I was not envious. My friends were very sympathetic when I returned, not, however, without a certain twinkle of the eye denoting merriment, as it exactly coincided with a most provoking prophecy made by Mr. C. as I set out; and I joined in a hearty laugh at my own expense, which was a real relief to my feelings.

No good news from Roanoke Island. Fort Henry has fallen; that loss is treated lightly, but the enemy have turned their attention to Fort Donelson, on Cumberland River, which, if taken, would give them free access into the heart of Tennessee.

February 10.—The expedition which had been sent up the Tennessee River, after the capture of Fort Henry, returned to the railroad crossing, twenty-five miles above the fort.

The expedition, embracing the gunboats Conestoga, Taylor and Lexington, under Lieutenant Phelps, left Fort Henry on the sixth inst., and on the same day it destroyed a quantity of camp equipage, which had been abandoned by the rebels.

On the following day, (the seventh,) several rebel transport steamers were pursued, and two of them, laden with military stores, were abandoned and burned by their crews.

On the same night, at Cerro Gordo, Tenn., the steamboat Eastport, in process of alteration into an iron-plated gunboat, and large quantities of timber and lumber, were seized, and the Taylor was left behind to protect them, until the return of the expedition.

On the morning of the eighth, at Chickasaw, Miss., two other steamboats — the Sallie Wood and Muscle—were seized; and on the same day, at Florence, Ala., three other steamboats were burned, and great quantities of supplies for the rebel army were taken and destroyed.

The expedition proceeded no farther up the river; but a deputation of citizens waited on Lieutenant Phelps and requested him to respect their persons and the property of the citizens, and the railroad bridge, which connects Florence with the railroad on the south bank of the river, all of which was complied with.

Returning to Cerro Gordo, the prize steamboats Eastport, Sallie Wood and Muscle, were laden with upward of a quarter of a million of feet of valuable lumber and ship-timber, which, with all the iron, machinery, spikes, plating, nails, etc., belonging to the rebel gunboats, was carried down to the Union lines.

A rebel encampment at Savannah, Tenn., was also broken up, and considerable quantities of arms, clothing, shoes, provisions, etc., were secured or destroyed.

The expedition met with the most gratifying proofs of loyalty everywhere on the Tennessee River; twenty-five Tennesseans were enlisted at Cerro Gordo, by Lieutenant Gwin of the Taylor, and the most perfect success crowned the arduous labors of the party.—(Doc. 32.)

—Ethan A. Hitchcock was confirmed as Major General of Volunteers in the Army of the United States.

— General Hunter proclaimed martial law throughout the State of Kansas, and declared the crime of jayhawking should be put down with a strong hand and summary process.

—Commander Rowan, with fourteen vessels, left Roanoke Island yesterday afternoon, and at six minutes past nine, this morning, when off Cobb’s Point, N. C, he attacked the rebels’ squadron, which had fled from Roanoke, under Commander Lynch, and two batteries, mounting five guns. Within twenty minutes a schooner belonging to the enemy, struck her colors, and was burned by her crew; and immediately afterward, the crews of the Powhatan, Fanny, Sea Bird and Forrest, ran them ashore and set fire to them, while these of the Raleigh and Beaufort ran their vessels into the Canal and escaped; the Ellis was captured, and brought away by the Union forces.

The battery on Cobb’s Point was also abandoned by the enemy, and occupied by acting Master’s Mate Raymond during the morning; and before ten o’clock Elizabeth City also surrendered. —(Doc. 33.)

Cape Girardeau, February 9, 1862.

I, like a good boy, wrote you a long letter yesterday, and, like a careless fellow, lost it. I told you in it how we “300” of us, left here in the p.m. of last Monday, rode all night and at daylight made a desperate charge into Bloomfield where we found and captured nothing. How a little party of 15 of our boys were surprised some eight miles beyond Bloomfield by 80 Rebels and one of them captured, one badly wounded and another’s horse shot and he at last accounts running in the swamps. How the major got together his men and went out and captured some 20 of the bushwhackers and killed five and how he returned to the Cape, etc. You have read about this riding and marching all night until I expect you hardly think of its being fatiguing and somewhat wearing on the human system, etc., but allow me to assure you that it is. Novice as I am in riding, the cold and fatigue were so severe on me that I slept like a top horseback, although I rode with the advance guard all the time and through country the like of which I hope you’ll never see. There is a swamp surrounding every hill and there are hills the whole way. Damn such a country. We passed, a small scouting party of us, the bones of seven Union men. They were all shot at one time. I didn’t go with the party to see them. One of our guards went out with a party of nine of the 17th Infantry boys and captured some 20 secesh and brought in, in a gunny sack, the bones of five other Union men. I noticed there were no skulls and asked the guide where they were. He said that “as true as truth the secesh who murdered them had taken the skulls to use for soup bowls.” I was talking with a man to-night who had his two sons shot dead in the house by his side last week. A gang of fellows came to the house while he was eating supper and fired through between the logs. He burst open the door and escaped with but one shot in him after he saw that his sons were killed. I can hardly believe that these things are realities, although my eyes and cars bear witness. In my reading I can remember no parallel either in truth or fiction for the state of things we have in this southeastern portion of Missouri. Anyone can have his taste for the marvelous, however strong, glutted by listening to our scouts and the refugees here. I thank God from my heart that dear old Illinois knows nothing of the horrors of this war. The 17th left here yesterday for Fort Henry. The boys were very glad to start. The old 8th was there with the first. I almost wish I had stayed with her. Without bragging or prejudice I am satisfied that the 8th is the best in every respect of the whole 100 regiments I have seen and has the best colonel. Colonel Kellogg is now commanding the post and Sid. is “A. A. A. General,” and I am “A Regimental Adjutant.” My duties are light, though, and I am in tip-top health. That ride didn’t hurt me at all. I can stand riding with the best of them. I suppose that Sam will be with us soon. I hope our regiment will be ordered to Kentucky. I believe I’d rather be shot there than to bushwhack around in Missouri much longer. The major and I will get along capitally. He stands fatigue equal to any of us. He and I took a ride of 30 miles alone through the swamps the other day. Send my watch the first chance you have.

To Mrs. Lyon

Cairo, Sunday, Feb. 9, 1862.—Since writing to you there has been a battle and victory at Fort Henry, on the Tennessee river. The battle was fought on our side by the gunboats, our infantry taking no part in It. We are not stationed here permanently. We were only left because we had not our blue uniforms.[1] We have them now. But for this we should doubtless have been at Fort Henry. The boys are much disappointed. We may go there yet, as regiments are constantly going up there. I suppose they will have another fight in a few days on the Cumberland river about fourteen miles east of Fort Henry, at Fort Donelson, but we have no orders as yet.

I have been for the last two days acting as President of a Regimental Court Martial for the trial of minor offenses. There were twelve cases before us. It takes a good deal of evidence in my court to convict.

 


[1] When the soldiers enlisted, gray uniforms were furnished by the State. This caused confusion because the Confederates also wore gray uniforms—hence the change.

Feb. 9. A hard looking lot this morning, and no doubt feeling as hard as we looked. Tired, hungry, ragged, covered with mud, and sore from our flesh being torn and scratched with the tangle-brush and briars through which we forced ourselves yesterday. After a good ration of whiskey and a breakfast of fried bacon, with hot coffee, we began to limber up and feel a little more normal. We can now look over the field and see the results of yesterday’s work. Our regiment lost six killed and 47 wounded, some of them probably fatally. Our whole loss was 42 killed and 209 wounded. The enemy’s loss is not known, but is probably less than ours. Today the gunboats are after the Confederate flotilla and no doubt will give them a taste of what happened yesterday. It will probably be reported at headquarters in Richmond that their navy in these waters has become a thing of the past. Our march up from the battle-ground, yesterday afternoon, was rather an interesting one, if men nearly dying from exhaustion can be said to get interested. The trees for a mile in front of our line are marked and scarred by our shot, showing the terrible effectiveness of our rifles. The road was strewn with guns, knapsacks, equipments, blankets and everything that impeded their retreat or which they thought they had no further use for. Passing a little brown house by the wayside I noticed quite a crowd of surgeons and officers standing around. Crowding my way up to the little open window, I saw the pale, quivering form of a young man lying on a cot, with a slight covering over him, apparently in a dying condition. I inquired if any one knew who he was, and was told it was Capt. O. Jennings Wise, son of ex-Governor Wise. He had received a mortal wound and could not possibly survive many minutes. He was editor of one of the Richmond papers and captain of the Richmond Light Infantry Blues, the crack company of that city. He was a brave young fellow, and his was the last company to leave the redoubt, and then only when he fell mortally wounded.

February 9.—Secretary Stanton ordered the arrest and incarceration in Fort McHenry of one Doctor Ives, a correspondent of the New-York Herald, on the charge of being a spy, and for violating the rules and regulations of the War Department. According to the order of Secretary Stanton, Ives introduced himself into the chambers of the Department, when private consultations were being held, and demanded news for publication.

—The Seventy-sixth regiment of Ohio Volunteers, under command of Colonel C. R. Woods, passed through Columbus on their way to Kentucky.—Cincinnati Gazette, February 11.

—The efficiency of United States mortar-boats was fully tested to-day by Captain Constable, U. S. N., in the Mississippi River, just below Cairo, Ill., and near Fort Holt, on the Kentucky shore. The experiments showed that thirteen inch shells, filled with sand, could be thrown a distance of three and a half miles— the time of flight being thirty-one seconds, and the recoil of the gun-carriage about two feet. Filled with powder, the shells could be thrown much further.— (Doc. 31.)

—Brigadier-general Charles P. Stone was arrested in Washington this morning, at two o’clock, by a posse of the Provost Marshal’s force, and sent to Fort Lafayette, New-York harbor. The charges against General Stone are: First, for misbehavior at the battle of Ball’s Bluff; second, for holding correspondence with the enemy before and since the battle of Ball’s Bluff, and receiving visits from rebel officers in his camp; third, for treacherously suffering the enemy to build a fort or strong work, since the battle of Ball’s Bluff, under his guns, without molestation; fourth, for a treacherous design to expose his force to capture and destruction by the enemy, under pretence of orders for a movement from the commanding general, which had not been given.

Feb. 8. At daylight, the order to fall in was heard on all sides. Putting on my equipments and taking Spitfire and a big sweet potato, which I had with much labor succeeded in baking, I took my place in my company. The brigade all ready, Gen. Foster gave the order to march. He, with Col. Upton, took his place at the right of our regiment, marching by the flank into the woods. We soon came out to the pickets and the road that runs through the island. Here we filed to the left, marching up the road. Company A, Capt. Pickett, was thrown out as skirmishers. They soon fell in with the enemy’s pickets and drove them in. The column moved up the road to within a short distance of the clearing, in front of the rebel works. On the right of the road the ground was hard and free from brush, but on the left was an almost impenetrable swamp, covered with a dense growth of tangle-brush and horse briars. The right wing of the regiment filed to the right, while the left plunged into the swamp, and with swords and jack-knives, succeeded in cutting a path until they had penetrated the swamp far enough to form our line. The regiment was now nearly all in the swamp, the right resting just across the road. The howitzer battery had taken position in the road, in front of our right wing. The 23d and 27th Massachusetts formed on our right, while the 10th Connecticut was held in reserve. We were now in line in the swamp, and facing to the front, commenced firing. The battery had already opened the ball, and were receiving the attention of the enemy in front.

We could see nothing to shoot at, but taking our range by the smoke of the enemy’s guns we blazed away. We fired high, low and obliquely, thinking if we covered a wide range of ground, we might possibly lame somebody, and it seemed our shots must have proved troublesome, for they turned their attention to us, pouring musketry and canister shot without stint into the swamp. We were up to our knees in mud and water, so their shot passed over us without doing much damage. We were now ordered to cease firing and advance, but how to advance was the question. We could stand on a bog and cut away the briars in front of us and jump to another one; where they were not too large we could crawl through them, tearing not only our clothes but our hides as well. The officers rendered good service in cutting away the briars with their swords. In this way we could advance a few steps at a time and then fire a few rounds; the enemy all this time showing us marked attention.

Capt. Foster of company D was the first man I saw hit. I was watching him as he stood on a bog, cutting away the briars with his sword, and thinking of him as colonel of the old 8th regiment Massachusetts volunteer militia, in which I used to muster. The shot struck him near the eye. He whirled round on the bog, and would have fallen had not three of his men caught him and led him to the rear.

I was rather amused at the major’s plan of rifle practice; he was practicing with a large revolver, shooting into the air at an elevation of about 80 degrees. Some one asked him what he was trying to act out. “Why,” replied the major, “you see my shots attain their summit directly over the enemy, and if one of those shot in falling should hit a man on top of his head, his goose is cooked just as effectually as though he had been hit with a cannon ball.”

By cutting and crowding ourselves through the briars, we advanced to within about 300 yards of the enemy. Our ammunition being now exhausted and having been in the swamp about three hours we were ordered out. The 21st Massachusetts took our places and the 51st New York and 51st Pennsylvania regiments forced their way through to the left front; the three regiments succeeded in getting out on the enemy’s right flank. Seeing that all was now lost, the rebels took to their heels for the head of the island, followed by Reno’s and Foster’s brigades. At the head of the island, near the enemy’s camp, was Gen. Burnside with the 24th Massachusetts regiment, to whom Col. Shaw, in command of the Confederate forces, surrendered. By this, about 3000 prisoners, with their arms, ammunition and stores, fell into our hands. But the greatest prize of all, old ex-Governor Wise, slipped through our fingers. Perhaps, having some premonitions of the fate which awaited his command, he wisely took himself off the island last night, leaving his command with Col. Shaw, of the 8th North Carolina regiment. The old governor probably acted on the principle of the militia captain who was about leading his company into action. He made them a little speech, telling them to be brave and valiant, not to run until actually forced to. “But,” he said, “in case that should happen, and I being a little lame, I think I had better start now.”

Thoughts.

During the action I had seen quite a number hit and led back to the rear, but I had little time to think much about it. After the chase commenced and we marched through the little redoubt and over the ground held by the enemy, and I began to see the mangled forms of dead and dying men, I was filled with an indescribable horror and wanted to go right home. I now began to realize what we had been doing, and thought that, if in this age of the world, with all our boasted civilization and education, men could not settle their differences short of cutting each other’s throats, we were not very far removed from barbarism. But I suppose so long as the nature of man is ambitious and selfish he will try to obtain by force what he cannot attain by other means. It was about night when we reached the Confederate camp, found the business had all been done, and Gen. Burnside was master of the situation. We now appropriated to our own use the log barracks of the enemy, leaving them to secure lodgings as best they could, as we had done the night before, with only this difference; they had a large body-guard over them, to see that they were orderly and kept the peace.