Eliza Woolsey Howland to Chaplain Henry Hopkins

December, ’62.

Charley, you may have heard, has gone into the service as lieutenant in the 164th, but he was detached at once for staff duty and is aide to General Burnside and a member of good old General Seth Williams’ mess–just where we would most like to have him. We have heard from him up to Saturday morning, the day of the battle, and are not yet very anxious about him. . . . Georgy and Jane are hard at work at Portsmouth Grove, terrors to evil-doers as well as good friends to those who need it. They and the other ladies have effected many reforms and won the respect and confidence of all concerned except the mutinous convalescents and the lying stewards, whom they pursue like avenging fates.

We were very glad to hear of your work after those dreadful days of the “Second Bull Run.” . . . I write principally to ask what I can do to help you take care of the wounded. . . . You know I want to do all I can now that I am unable to be there myself. You must call upon me freely.

On November 8th McClellan had been relieved of command and Burnside had superseded him. On December 13 was fought the first battle of Fredericksburg, with the rebel Lee victorious. Few or no letters mark these anxious months.

And so the second year of the war came to an end without any sound of public cheer or private rejoicing. There is no mention in the letters of Christmas fun, even for the children, while our poor defeated Army of the Potomac was huddled into Fredericksburg with the loss of 13,000 men. As a family we were again scattered, some of us in hospital work and Charley in the field. One window, though, was opened Heavenwards, since for three million slaves, across the blackness of a civil war.;;;

“God made himself an awful rose of dawn.”

14th.—Firing in the direction of Fredericksburg renewed this morning, but at irregular intervals. Telegraph wires are cut. No news except from passengers in the trains. The cars are not allowed to go to the town, but stop at a point some miles below. They report that every thing goes on well for us, of which we were sure, from the receding sound of the cannon. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me praise His holy name! How can we be thankful enough for such men as General Lee, General Jackson, and our glorious army, rank and file!

Nine o’ Clock at Night.—A sad, sad train passed down a short time ago, bearing the bodies of Generals Cobb, of Georgia, and Maxcy Gregg, of South Carolina. Two noble spirits have thus passed away from us. Peace to their honoured remains! The gentlemen report many wounded on the train, but not very severely. I fear it has been another bloody Sabbath. The host of wounded will pass to-morrow; we must be up early to prepare to administer to their comfort. The sound of cannon this evening was much more distant, and not constant enough for a regular fight. We are victorious again! Will they now go from our shores forever? We dread to hear of the casualties. Who may not be among the wounded to-morrow?

December 14th. Astounding intelligence reached us through a telegram to the Admiral, stating that Major General Banks, with his entire expedition, was on the river coming up to the city. The North Star came up to the lower part of the city and landed the General. General Banks comes to supersede Major General Butler in command of the Gulf Department, and will perhaps at this stage of affairs serve the interests of the Government better than Butler, who is much the harsher man, could. When General Butler first took charge of affairs here a strict, energetic man was needed,—one who would not hesitate an instant to punish severely the first act of insubordination. Butler was the man; but latterly this severity is uncalled for, and the public need a milder rule, and General Banks in my opinion is the better man for such.

Sunday, December 14th.

Yesterday evening, some time before sunset, Mr. Enders was announced, to our great surprise, as we knew he had been in Clinton all the week, having been transferred there instead of to Jackson, as he threatened. He was the most miserable, unhappy creature one could possibly imagine; even too melancholy for me to laugh at him, which expresses the last degree of wretchedness. To all our questions, he had but one answer, that he had had the most dreadful attack of “blues” ever since he was here Sunday; that he had waited every evening at the cars, expecting us, and at last, seeing that we had no intention of coming, he could no longer stand the temptation, so got permission to come down for a day to Port Hudson so he could come out to see us. . . . Before we could fairly get him cheerful, Will Carter and Ned Badger, who returned only this week from Kentucky, entered. Will was in a bad humor, and wanted to vent it on us; so after waiting some time, he proposed that the two young men should go with him, pocketing at the same moment the cards which had won Miriam and saying they would have a nice game together, and just the rarest old whiskey! He looked around to see the effect produced. We girls did not move, but Mr. Enders said he must really return immediately to Port Hudson, and start for Clinton from there in the night. Will thought it would be such a triumph over us to carry him off, that he insisted. They’d have a fine time! cure the blues! etc. Ned was more than willing; and at last Mr. Enders said, Well! he felt just so desperate that he did not care what he did; he believed he would go. I saw he was in a reckless humor, and that Will knew it, too, and I promised to make at least an effort to save him.

Miriam spoke to him apart, but he said he had promised now; he must go. Will ran down triumphant to mount his horse, calling him to follow. All ran out to see him off, when Frank came back to tell me good-bye. I seized the opportunity, and did n’t I plead! I told him I would not ask him to stay here, though he knew we would be happy to have him stay; and begged him to go back to the camp, and leave Will alone. . . . I suggested other resources; talked of his mother whom he idolizes, pleaded like a grandmother; and just as I wound up, came Will’s voice from below, “Why the devil don’t you come, Enders? Hurry!” He moved a step, looked at me; I dropped my head without a word. Here I must confess to the most consummate piece of acting; I am sorry, but as long as it saved him from doing what I knew he would have cause to regret, I am not ashamed of having tried it. Will called impatiently again, as he stood hesitating before me; I did not say, “Stay,” I just gave the faintest sigh imaginable. . . . He went down and told Will he would not go! Of course, Will went off in a rage with us.

Sunday, 14th–No news of importance. We had company inspection as usual on Sunday morning. There are no foraging parties sent out on Sundays, but brigade and picket duty are performed every day and night.

Sunday, 14th. Reveille at 4 and off a little before sunrise. Reached Spring Hill at 4 P. M. Charlie Ball and I went out to a house and got supper. Kept us till dark. Got cider.

December.–Hon. William H. Lamport went down to Virginia to see his son and found that he had just died in the hospital from measles and pneumonia. Their only son, only eighteen years old!

14 Dec.

       Mr Grimball paid us a visit having a furlough from his company, he had a bad cold, and during his stay it was very cold he returned to Charleston and Military life. I think rather pleased with the fact that he, too, is doing what he can to help.—

       Things get on here very much as usual. Just now Elizabeth has given a 2 weeks holiday to her School, grateful to herself, and very joyful to Harry. Miss Legg called to take Elizabeth for an excursion to the Iron Mills; Miss Palmer, the sister of the young man Clemy was engaged to, was with her on a visit, and her Grand Mother Kenedy’s carriage, a most tumbled up concern, the drive was to the Rolling Mills. The iron of this district is very fine, and they saw the process of preparing the Iron, and brought home some specimens. The ride was a pleasant one, and as they carried a lunch, E. returned home very much pleased.—A little joy.—Miss Palmer is not in black, there is a large family & the father said he could not afford to put them all in mourning.

       We have accounts of families wandering round from the threatened cities of Fredericksburg and Fort Royal in Virginia finding refuge in Cabins by the wayside. We have the comfort of a home and ought to be thankful.—

DECEMBER 14th, SUNDAY.—Yesterday was a bloody day. Gen. Lee telegraphs that the enemy attacked him at 9 A.M, and as the fog lifted, the fire ran along the whole line, and the conflict raged until darkness (6 P.M.) put an end to the battle. The enemy was repulsed at all points, he continued, thanks be to God! But we have to mourn, as usual, a heavy loss. Lee expects another blow at Burnside to-day.

It is understood that Gens. Hood, Texas, was wounded; T. R. R. Cobb, Georgia, and a brigadier from South Carolina were killed. A dispatch says that where our generals fell, the colonels could no longer restrain their regiments; and the men ran into the ranks of the enemy, and, animated with a spirit of desperation, slaughtered the foe in great numbers with their bayonets, pistols, and knives.

Preparations are being made here for the reception of the wounded. The request was to provide for a large number. Last night, at nine o’clock, a number of regiments which had been encamped among the fortifications northwest of the city, were marched down to Drewry’s Bluff. It is probable Gen. Smith has heard of the enemy’s approach from that quarter. I hope he may prove the right man in the right place.

It is rumored that we were repulsed yesterday, this side of Suffolk. At this critical moment the President is away.

A dispatch from Gen. Lee says Gen. Wade Hampton dashed into Dumfries, the other side of the Rappahannock, and in the rear of the enemy, capturing some wagons, and taking a few men. This seems most extraordinary. If he be not taken himself, the diversion must have a good effect; but if he be taken, it will be considered a wild and desperate sally, boding no good to the cause. But Lee knows what he is about. From the dispositions of our troops (few in number) in the vicinity of Richmond, at this moment, it seems to me that Gen. Smith is putting the city to great hazard. There are not a thousand men to guard the approach from the head of York River; and if a dozen of the enemy’s swift transports were to dash up that river, the city could be surprised by 5000 men!

Ten o’clock A.M. No dispatches from Lee have come over the wires to-day. He may have interdicted others. We got no intelligence whatever. From this I infer the battle was resumed at early dawn, and the general deems it best to have no announcements but results. If this be so, it is a day big with events–and upon its issue may depend the fate of governments. And yet our people exhibited no trepidation. The foreign portion of the population may be seen grouped on the pavements indulging in speculation, and occasionally giving vent to loud laughter, when a Jew is asked what will be the price of his shoes, etc. tomorrow. They care not which side gains the day, so they gain the profits. But our women and children are going to church as usual, to pray for the success of the cause, and not doubting but that our army will triumph as usual on the field of combat. It is a bright and-lovely Sabbath morning, and as warm as May.

Washington County Historical Society version (1965)¹

Dec. 14—It is said the Southern troops were victorious. I don’t believe it. Last night three soldiers dressed in blue demanded admittance. I had the dog beside me, so let them in. They demanded money and when I told them there was none, they searched the entire house and took what they wanted. I offered them Confederate money but they refused that. One of them threatened me with his gun and I was glad Fritz wasn’t there. They took coffee, flour, clothing, handkerchiefs, and keepsakes that we had brought from Germany. They remained in the house two hours and left.

The Arkansas Historical Quarterly version (1947)²

Dec. 14

We have been told that the Southern forces won the battle, but I can’t believe it.³ The night of the eleventh three soldiers dressed in Northern uniforms came to the house and demanded that I open the door. If I did not order the dog away and open the door, they said, they would break it down. They demanded money, looked through everything, carried away much stuff. I offered them genuine Confederate money but they would not take it. When one of them threatened me with his musket, I had to thank God that Fritz was not here. The scoundrels took coffee, flour, clothes, shirts, handkerchiefs and some clothes made of especially fine material that Fritz had bought me. They spent two hours, then went away.

1. Lemke, W. J. The Hermanns of Old Hermannsburg: Washington County, Arkansas. Fayetteville, AR: Washington County Historical Society, 1965.
2. Memoirs, Letters, and Diary Entries of German Settlers in Northwest Arkansas, 1853-1863.  Selected and Translated By Clarence Evans, Tahlequah, Oklahoma. The Arkansas Historical Quarterly. Vol. VI Fall, 1947 No. 3
3. The Battle of Prairie Grove was “a tactical draw, with the casualties about the same in each army. But the Southern retreat during the night gave the Union a strategic victory, as a full-scale Confederate army would never return to northwest Arkansas, and Missouri remained firmly under Union control. This savage battle was probably the bloodiest day in Arkansas history.”

14th.–Sunday is again ushered in with a fight. At 7 this morning our batteries opened with a few guns, but the firing is not active. Our long line of battle extends across the vast plain, and is now (8 A. M.) rapidly advancing, apparently to renew the combat in earnest. The enemy is posted in a wood, on a chain of high hills, each one of which is a Gibraltar. Our Generals seem determined to take the position at whatever cost. God send them success, but I have misgivings. With an army of as good fighting men as are in the world opposed to us, with numbers greater than our own, and in much stronger position, my misgivings are not culpable.

9 ½.–All has been quiet for an hour–probably the lull before a storm. I have just left, lying in one room, Generals Bayard, Campbell and Vinton–the two first mortally, the last severely wounded. Gen. Gibbons is, I hear, in another part of the house, and I am told must lose an arm.

1 P. M.–The battle is not renewed. What does it mean? A telegram is said to have been just received, stating that our gunboats have taken Fort Darling, and are at Richmond. This may, if true, account for our not renewing the attack. In that event the capture or dispersing of Lee’s army here will be only a question of time, and a short time at that, for if Richmond is taken they are cut off from their supplies, and must give way. But suppose it is not true, what then? And why stand we here all the day idle? My construction of the whole matter is simply this: that yesterday’s experience taught us the impracticability of dislodging the enemy by direct force, or that there is a want of co-operation amongst our officers, and that they are in council, devising some strategic plan, to either advance or get back.

5 o’clock.–A rumor is afloat, seeming authentic, (a General has just told me that it is positively so,) that Gen. Sigel has crossed the river with his corps some miles above, and will to-night be in position in rear of the enemy. If true, we shall have lively times to-morrow.

The estimated loss of our left wing in yesterday’s fight is 3,500 in killed and wounded. From the center I have not heard. The loss on the right is said to have been somewhere from twelve hundred to three thousand. I am inclined to believe that the largest figure is much nearest the truth.

The day has closed without a renewal of the fight, and now everything looks as if the morrow was to be the day of days in the attempt to take the Heights. There is only one thing which leads me to doubt it, and that is the publicity which is given to the statements to that effect. In my letter of the 10th inst. I stated my disbelief of the statement that we should cross the river next morning at 2 o’clock, because of the publicity given to the decision of the council of war which decided that we should. We did not cross. I now doubt the statement that we are to renew the fight in the morning, only because everybody knows it. Even Major-Generals have been here and said that our wounded Generals must be taken from the hospital, “because they will be too much exposed in the fight to take place to-morrow.” When an army is to make an important move its Generals do not publish it the day before. Yet our troops are buoyant in the expectation of driving the enemy to-morrow. They love Gen. Burnside, and their confidence in him is already more uniform than it ever was in McClellan, and it is of a different kind–no party feeling mingled with it. It is a confidence in him as a man and a General. Much stir and activity of some kind is discoverable in the enemy’s camp to-night, and a report has just come in that they are retreating. I do not believe it. The record of the hospital for the last two days is just made up. Two hundred and four operated on, amputated, and dressed in the two wards of this hospital yesterday after 12 o’clock, and all laid away comfortably before 10 at night–a pretty good half day’s work. Seventy have been operated on and dressed to-day.

Saturday, 13th–I was on duty again today, going out with about two hundred men from our division to bring corn. We got one hundred loads, and although it was not a good day for snapping corn, yet the corn being quite good it did not take long to fill a wagon.

Saturday, 13th. Marched at daylight. Had a cold ride, chilled through. Reached Twin Springs in time for supper, before dark. Slept soundly under tent. Rained a little during the night.

DECEMBER 13th.—After all, Fredericksburg was severely shelled—whether designedly or incidentally in the fight, does not yet appear.

Our army has fallen back a little—for a purpose. Lee knows every inch of the ground.

Again we have rumors of a hostile fleet being in the river; and Major-Gen. G. W. Smith has gone to Petersburg to see after the means of defense, if an attack should be made in that quarter. Some little gloom and despondency are manifested, for the first time, in this community. Major-Gen. S. Jones writes that although the Federal Gen. Cox has left the valley of the Kanawha, 5000 of his men remain; and he deems it inexpedient, in response to Gen. Lee’s suggestion, to detach any portion of his troops for operations elsewhere. He says Jenkins’s cavalry is in a bad condition.

Here is an instance of South Carolina honor. During the battle of Williamsburg, last spring, W. R. Erwin, a private in Col. Jenkins’s Palmetto sharpshooters, was detailed to take care of the wounded, and was himself taken prisoner The enemy supposing him to be a surgeon, he was paroled. He now returns to the service; and although the mistake could never be detected, he insists on our government exchanging a private of the enemy’s for himself. With the assurance that this will be done, he goes again to battle.

Yesterday flour and tobacco had a fall at auction. Some suppose the bidders had in view the contingency of the capture of the city by the enemy.

In the market-house this morning, I heard a man speaking loudly, denounce a farmer for asking about $6 a bushel for his potatoes, and hoping that the Yankees would take them from him for nothing!

13th.–At a quarter past 9 o’clock, picket firing commenced, and at 9 1-2 o’clock the enemy opened with artillery, on our left wing. In a few minutes the engagement was general. The smoke hangs thick and heavy, making it impossible to tell, this morning, whether the enemy is in force here, or whether his opening the fight is a ruse to cover his falling back. My own opinion is that he means fight. If he had intended to fall back, he would have taken advantage of our crossing, then have opened on us and have fallen back under the fire. Large fires were seen all night in the rear of his lines, which many inferred were from the burning of his stores, preparatory to a retreat. I entertain no such thought. His position is too strong, and should there fall a heavy rain daring the battle, it would, by inundating the large flats on which we are posted, render the situation of our army an exceedingly perilous one. I have not a doubt that the enemy has seen this, and permitted us to cross. I saw some very bad surgery yesterday, and I here enter the remark, that I have witnessed but four amputations by other surgeons since I came to the army, and two of those had to be amputated a second time, before they could be dressed. This speaks very badly for our Surgeons.

Night has come, and the firing has ceased. It has been a terrible day. The wounded have been sent in to us in great numbers. I have been amputating and otherwise operating all day. The result of the battle I do not know. It certainly has not been decisive on either side, and although the wounded brought to us talk freely of “our victory,” I am strongly inclined to the opinion that we have had the worst of it. Gen. Vinton is wounded, and now lies in the hospital. Gen. Bayard, Chief of our artillery, and Gen. Campbell, also lie near me, the former mortally, the latter badly wounded.

The enemy is very strongly posted, and I exceedingly doubt our ability to dislodge him. I hear hints of the want of hearty co-operation of our subordinate Generals. I have feared this from the start, but I will not yet credit it.

Whatever is the result it has been a terrible day, and I now write amidst the groans of the wounded, just dressed, but not yet had time to be relieved of pain.

In my letter of the 10th inst., to C––, I prophesied that we should cross without much fighting; that when we should cross, the enemy would contest every inch of ground, but that if Burnside was heartily sustained by his officers he would drive the enemy. The two first have been fulfilled to the letter. He has not yet driven the enemy, but the fight is not over, and has he had hearty co-operation? On this last point we are not informed. I hope he has, for I would rather suffer defeat honorably, than gain success amidst the treachery of our trusted officers.

Provost Marshal’s Office, Waterford, Miss.,
December 12, ’62.

From captain of the provost guard, I have been changed to provost marshal. I had charge of two companies, doing the guard duty for the provost of our division until yesterday; the division was ordered forward to Oxford, except our regiment, which was left to guard the railroad between this point and the Tallahatchie river. Headquarters being here, Colonel Dickerman appointed me provost and sent my company to guard a bridge one and one-half miles south of this place. My business is to attend to all prisoners, deal with citizens (administer oaths, take paroles, etc.), give all passes for citizens and soldiers leaving, have charge of all soldiers straggling from their regiments, issue permits to sutlers, etc., and overlook the cotton trade. Altogether, quite enough for any one man to attend to. The little advantage of having a comfortable house to live in, etc., is worth something; but I kind o’ feel as if I would rather be with my company. Another regiment came in to-night, 12th Indiana, and we may possibly be relieved to-morrow. Shall be glad if we can only get with our division again. General Lanman has again taken command of our division, and although we know nothing against McKean, yet we know so much good of Lanman, that we’re much pleased. Eight of our companies are guarding bridges, so we only have two here. Confound this railroad guarding; I’m down on it. ‘Tis more dangerous than regular soldiering, harder work, and no shadow of a chance for glory. There’s a smart chance of fun in my present business, particularly in the citizens branch thereof. It would have furnished you with amusement enough for a month, could you have heard an old lady talk who visited me to-day. She was a F. F. and blooded, Oh, Lord! We let all come within the lines; but before they can pass out, an oath or parole is required of them. How they squirm! Rebels, though they are, ’tis shocking and enough to make one’s blood boil to see the manner in which some of our folks have treated them. Trunks have been knocked to pieces with muskets when the women stood by, offering the keys, bureau drawers drawn out, the contents turned on the floor, and the drawer thrown through the window, bed clothing and ladies’ clothing carried off and all manner of deviltry imaginable perpetrated. Of course the scoundrels who do this kind of work would be severely punished if caught, but the latter is almost impossible. Most of the mischief is done by the advance of the army, though, God knows, the infantry is bad enough. The d–d thieves even steal from the negroes (which is lower business than I ever thought it possible for a white man to be guilty of) and many of them are learning to hate the Yankees as much as our “Southern Brethren” do. The army is becoming awfully depraved. [continue reading…]

Friday, 12th December.

My cripple friend that I mentioned so far back continues to send me the most affecting messages. “He is really wretched about me; never was more distressed; thinks of nothing else”; and so on through the whole list. To cap the climax, he sends me word that he can now walk on crutches, and the first time he can venture in a buggy, means to call on me. Que le ciel m’ en preserve! What could we talk about? “His’n” and “her’n “ several misfortunes? That’s too bad! Every one teases me unmercifully about my new conquest. I can’t help but be amused; and yet, beware, young girls, of expressing sympathy, even for soldiers! There is no knowing what effect it may produce.

Friday, 12th–Nothing of importance. I was relieved from picket this morning. New regiments from the North are arriving and passing out to the front to hear their first roar of cannon.

Friday, 12th. Issued clothing in the morning. Bathed. Marched in P. M. to Fort Lincoln. Took charge of 10 soldier prisoners.

DECEMBER 12th.—The enemy have possession of Fredericksburg, and succeeded in crossing a large portion of their force three miles below, on their pontoon bridge. Up to 3 P.M. to-day, we have no other intelligence but that “they are fighting.” We shall know more, probably, before night.

The President has passed through East Tennessee on his way to Mississippi.

Lieut.-Col. Nat Tyler, publisher of the Enquirer, the organ of the government, was in my office this morning, denouncing Mr. Memminger, Secretary of the Treasury. He says Mr. M.’s head is as worthless as a pin’s-head. He also denounced the rules of admission to our Secretary, adopted by Mr. R. G. H. Kean, Chief of the Bureau, and asked for a copy of them, that he might deounce them in his paper. It appears that Mr. Jacques is to say who can see the Secretary; and to do this, he must catechize each applicant as to the nature of his business. This is deemed insulting by some of the hot bloods, and will make friend Mr. J.’s position rather a disagreeable and derogatory one.

12th–At 9 o’clock, A. M., troops are crossing, and again has commenced our cannonading, but there is no response. I sit in the building prepared for hospital, out of sight and out of danger. Are we to have a fight to-day? Doubtful. I find myself indulging in some feelings of pride on the distinction which was conferred on me, unasked, yesterday, though I do not doubt it will excite some of my brother Surgeons to jealousy against me. I almost wish it were otherwise; for, after the long personal battles I .have had to fight, to maintain my proper position in the regiment, I was getting at peace with all, and I should have liked a little quiet. God grant that I may prove adequate to the responsible duties imposed by my new position. I deeply realize the fact that it places in my hands the limbs and lives of many poor fellows who are to be brought under my care. Ambulances and litter-bearers are passing to the expected battle field, and I too, must prepare, though I much doubt our having a fight to-day.

11 o’clock.–We have ” crossed the Rubicon,” and I now sit on the south bank of the Rappahannock, watching the crossing of our left wing, about, fifty thousand strong. I hear that our centre and right wing are crossing on bridges from two to four miles above us. Not a shot of resistance yet this morning, except from a few sharpshooters, and they are now silenced. The smoke of the burning city, and of the heavy cannonading of yesterday, have settled, casting a thick pall over all the country, and we cannot see more than a few rods around us. We know not, therefore, whether the enemy is before us, but the general impression is, that he has fallen back, to draw us on. I am of the opinion that it will require but little suction to draw our Commander on to destruction or to victory. He evidently means business; But will McClellan’s friends, who now hold most important commands under General Burnside, betray him as they did Pope? or will they prove true to the country in this hour of its greatest trial. When I see General Franklin in charge of the most important position, my recollection will revert to his conduct at West Point and at Centreville, and whilst I hope, I fear. From what I have seen of that man, I have lost all confidence in him. How I hope that he may now retrieve himself in the estimation of those who feel towards him as I do. The developments being made in the trial of Porter may make some Generals cautious. God grant it may.

It has been a matter of wonder to me, how the rebel army lives in its marches through this country, without transportation. We have now marched over one hundred miles in this State, and on the line of our march for a width of six miles, (making an area of six hundred square miles.) I am satisfied that there are not provisions enough, if all were taken, to subsist Lee’s army one day.

At 1 o’clock I take possession, for a hospital, of the house of Arthur Bernard, on the south bank of the river, two miles below Fredericksburg. This is one of the most magnificent places I ever saw. I shall not undertake to journalize a description of it. It is owned by one of the old bachelor F. F. Vs. He is now trying to compromise with us, so as to be permitted to retain a part of it. He is very ridiculous in his demands, and it will not surprise me if it results in his arrest. Weather still beautiful, but I fear that the great smoke hanging over us will bring heavy rains, and embarrass our locomotion. Night has come, but brings no fight. There has been an exchange of a few random shots, killing and wounding some twenty or thirty.

Thursday, 11th–I was on the picket line again today. Picket duty is less dangerous now than it was, as the rebels have fallen back. We maintain a brigade guard at this camp.

DECEMBER 11th.Gen. —Lee dispatched this morning early that the enemy were constructing three pontoon bridges, and that firing had commenced on both sides. At nine o’clock A.M. the firing increased, and Gen Lee dispatched for ammunition, looking to the contingency of a prolonged battle.

At three P.M., Gen. Lee says, the enemy had been repulsed in two of their attempts to throw bridges over the river; but the third attempt would probably succeed, as it was under cover of batteries which commanded the river, and where his sharpshooters could not reach the workmen. But, he says, his batteries command the plain where the enemy must debouch. We may speedily hear of a most sanguinary conflict.

Burnside must have greatly superior numbers, or else he is a great fool to precipitate his men into a plain, where every Southern soldier is prepared to die, in the event of failure to conquer! There is no trepidation here; on the contrary, a settled calm on the faces of the people, which might be mistaken for indifference. They are confident of the success of Lee, and really seem apprehensive that Burnside will not come over and fight him in a decisive battle. We shall soon see, now, of what stuff Burnside and his army are made. I feel some anxiety; because the destruction of our little army on the Rappahannock might be the fall of Richmond.It is rumored that the President started two days ago for the West–Tennessee and Mississippi. No papers have been sent in by him since Tuesday, and it may be true. If so, he means to return speedily. I think we shall soon have news from the lower James River.

A letter from the Governor of Alabama calls urgently for heavy guns, and a reserve force, for the defense of Mobile. Major Hause, the government’s agent in Europe, has purchased, up to this time, 157,000 stand of arms, besides many cannon, much ammunition, quartermaster’s stores, etc. A portion was lost in transitu, however, but not a large amount. Besides the large sums he has expended, he has obtained credit to the extent of $6,000,000!

They are calling for a guard at Petersburg against incendiaries. A factory was burned the other night. This is bad. Scully and Lewis, condemned to die as spies, have been pardoned by the President, and are to be sent North.

Another dispatch from Gen. Lee, dated 3 ½ P.M., says the enemy has nearly completed his bridge, and will probably commence crossing this evening or in the morning. The bulletin boards in the city purport to give intelligence of the passage having been effected in part; but I do not see how the editors could have obtained their information. At 6 P.M., passengers by the Fredericksburg train (which left at 1 P.M.) report the shelling of the town, and a great battle in progress on this side of the river. I doubt both; and I saw but one excited man (a Jew) who said he was in Fredericksburg when the shelling began. I do not believe it. The cars were not within four miles of the town, and perhaps merely conjectured the cannonading they heard to be directed at the town. There were no ladies or children in the cars. But doubtless the enemy will cross the river, and there will be a battle, which must result in a great mortality.

11th.–At 5 o’clock, A. M., as clear and calm a morning as ever a bright and beautiful moon shone on. We struck tents and took up our line of march in the direction of Fredericksburg, only five miles distant. At a quarter before 6, precisely, the heavy reports of two large guns came booming through the woods, telling us that the ball was opened. The sound came from Falmouth. Frequent and more frequent came the peals, and in half an hour, so constant was the roar that the intervals between the reports was undistinguishable. At 11 o’clock, A. M., we are in line of battle along the north bank of the Rappahannock, about two miles below Fredericksburg. A pontoon bridge is nearly completed just in front of us. The artillery fight at Falmouth continues; our troops are pouring into the plain along the river. Will the enemy contest our passage! Doubtful.

At 11 1-2 o’clock, I sit on my horse, on a high ridge overlooking Fredericksburg, Falmouth, the river, and the vast plains on either side, where the hosts of both armies are marshalling for the great trial. How beautiful the plains, the cities, the river! How grand the tout ensemble! How different may be the scene on which the rising moon of tomorrow morning may shed her silver light.

“On Linden, when the sun was low,
All bloodless lay the untrodden snow,
* * * * * * * *
But Linden saw another sight
When the drums beat at dead of night,
Commanding fires of death to light
The darkness of her scenery.”

Oh, beautiful Rappahannock! are you on this most beautiful day to take the dark rolling Yser for your type? And must this bloodless and untrodden snow, e’er another rising sun, be stained by the blood of valiant hearts, struggling in the cause of government and humanity, against anarchy and oppression? I am at this moment notified of my appointment as a ” Chief operator” for General Howe’s division, during the approaching battle, and am ordered to duty. This is a most flattering distinction, but I rather regret it, as it takes me from the scenes of the field.

3 P. M.–Having prepared my hospital, and the fight not having commenced in our division, I have ridden to Fredericksburg, two and a half miles, and, for the first time, witnessing the bombarding of a city. Rebel sharpshooters are concealed in the houses, and have been shooting our pontooniers. The city is already on fire, and thus ends this ancient town, where children, and children’s children, have lived and died in the same house, for generations. Alas! their homes are destroyed and they homeless. To them the seat of their acutest joys and sorrows, of their hopes and their fears, their histories, and their traditions will be known no more forever. But how strange that I should sit here writing on horseback, almost in the midst of their sharpshooters, without being able to reason myself into a sense of my danger! Have I a life charmed against such exposure, that I should be thus insensible to it? However, if some were here, who have an interest in this matter, co-ordinate with myself, they would say “Go!” and I will do it. Come, Joseph,¹ yours is not a charmed life, and you at least must be taken away.

Night has come, and we have not crossed the river. Rumors are rife, that the enemy has evacuated. I do not credit them.

¹ My faithful and affectionate horse.