Friday, 9th–We heard some very heavy firing off to the left towards Farmington. General Pope was compelled to fall back from Farmington, but has again taken the town.

May 9th. Arrived at Baton Rouge in the afternoon, where we found the Brooklyn and Iroquois. This city is the capital of Louisiana, and a very pleasant place, with some four or five thousand inhabitants. The capitol is a beautiful building; also an asylum for the insane. There are also here the state prison and U. S. Arsenal. The city is elevated some twenty feet above the river, and the buildings roofed with slate.

May 9th.

Our lawful (?) owners have at last arrived. About sunset, day before yesterday, the Iroquois anchored here, and a graceful young Federal stepped ashore, carrying a Yankee flag over his shoulder, and asked the way to the Mayor’s office. I like the style! If we girls of Baton Rouge had been at the landing, instead of the men, that Yankee would never have insulted us by flying his flag in our faces! We would have opposed his landing except under a flag of truce; but the men let him alone, and he even found a poor Dutchman willing to show him the road!

He did not accomplish much; said a formal demand would be made next day, and asked if it was safe for the men to come ashore and buy a few necessaries, when he was assured the air of Baton Rouge was very unhealthy for Yankee soldiers at night. He promised very magnanimously not to shell us out if we did not molest him; but I notice none of them dare set their feet on terra firma, except the officer who has now called three times on the Mayor, and who is said to tremble visibly as he walks the streets. [continue reading…]

9th. Friday. During the night we expected an attack every hour. Pickets fired two or three times. Companies were called out into line for a fight early in the morning–at four. Mounted at eight and went six or eight miles and fed oats and corn. Traveled through a fine valley, hills on both sides. Reached Neosho at dusk. Went for corn to a widow’s a mile from town. Slept on the porch at a hotel. Ate there. Good joke on Lt. Nettleton. The next morning when he presented the lady a five dollar bill, she quietly doubled it up and gave no change. Hear cannonading east.

A Trip into the Country.

MAY 9. After nearly two months of scrubbing and cleaning, with new caps and pants, the 25th regiment stands in column of platoons on Polloek street, as tony a looking regiment as there is in the service. The colonel and staff with the band take the head of the column, and amid the cheers of hundreds of darkies,  the march commences. Leaving the city we soon enter the woods, and after marching about three miles, come out to a cotton plantation. Here we make a short halt and look over the place. It looks rather run down, the house is old and out of repair, the negro quarters are built of logs, and look as though they were hardly habitable. But I presume everything on a plantation has to correspond. The gentlemanly proprietor, whoever he was, has left, taking with him the best of his servants, leaving here a few old ones to shift for themselves.

A few miles further on, we came to another cotton plantation. This presented a better appearance, a neat cottage house, painted white with green blinds, good barns and surroundings. The negro quarters were comfortable looking houses, built of boards, with glass windows, and whitewashed. This gentleman with his servants had also gone up the country. About two miles further on, at a fork of the road, we found the 17th Massachusetts, Col. Amory, doing picket duty. Here a road branched to the right leading into the woods, which we took, following it about four miles, [continue reading…]

McDowell, May 9, 1862.

Before this reaches you, you will have heard alarming rumors of the fight on yesterday, and feel, I know, much anxiety for my safety. I was not hurt, for the reason that I was not in the fight. No part of our brigade was engaged, the enemy being whipped off the field before it came. But little, if any, more than one-third our forces were engaged. The fight began late in the evening in an unexpected attack from the enemy, and lasted about an hour. Our loss, I expect, will reach 60 killed and 300 wounded. They began their retreat early this morning in the direction of Pendleton County. We pursued them to-day some twelve or fifteen miles, capturing six or seven persons. They left a considerable quantity of tents and provisions, but burned most of them. I am indebted to this source for the sheet upon which I write.

Well, you want to know when we are going to have another fight? There is no telling, but I think to-morrow we shall take the end of the road which leads to Harrisonburg. I saw Matthew after the fight was over, and he, like myself, I suppose had not been in it. The cadets were behind our brigade, and, though I have not seen White Williamson, he is, I doubt not, unhurt except by the hard march. The company from Brownsburg, formerly Carey’s, suffered very severely, the captain, Whitmore, being killed and one of the lieutenants severely wounded.

I left Staunton the day I wrote to you last week and joined the army at Port Republic. Since then we have been marching every day but one which we spent in Staunton. And now, darling, I will bid you good-bye.

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.

Near Farmington, Miss., May 8, 1862.

I’ve been within one and a half miles of Corinth to-day. Didn’t see anything especially worthy of mention, but had full rations in the way of leaden bullets whistle. Yea, and larger missiles also. For four days past our battalion has been the advanced picket of Pope’s army, full five miles in advance of the army. We have been skirmishing the whole time, not five minutes passing without more or less shooting. Our picket line was on one side of a long prairie or clearing, from 300 to 450 yards wide, and theirs on the opposite side. With all the firing, the losses on our side was but one horse up to this morning, and we were congratulating ourselves on getting on so well, when the advance of a large reconnoitering party under General Paine came in sight and we were ordered to lead them. Well, it’s all over now, and we’ve had our Maj. Z. Applington killed, several wounded, and horses hurt by bursting shells. It’s all right, I suppose, but damn the general that sent us on a fool’s errand. We’ve a strong old place to take here at Corinth, but guess we’ll make the riffle. The major fell while leading a charge along a road. The timber and brush by the roadside were so thick that we could see nothing until our boys received the volley of musketry, of which one ball reached the major’s brain. The reconnoitering party returned to camp last night, and this morning the Rebels took their turn. They advanced in considerable force, drove our men back some two miles, captured a couple of pieces of cannon, and filled our hospitals pretty well. Our regiment was not in that fight. The Iowa 2d Cavalry suffered badly, ’tis said, in trying to take a Rebel battery. [continue reading…]

MAY 8th.—Norfolk and Portsmouth are evacuated! Our army falling back! The Merrimac is to be, or has been, blown up!

Thursday, 8th–It is very warm today. Our major drilled us–the regiment–in the manual of arms. Company E went out in the evening to reinforce the pickets.

May 8th. Weighed anchor early and proceeded up the river. The same succession of beauties met the eye at every turn. In the afternoon met a gunboat from Vicksburg with news from our vessels at that place.

8th. Thursday. Marched on towards Cowskin Prairie. A little skirmish on the road. Our course lay mostly among the Ozark Hills. A rich country and beautiful scenery. Reminded me of Vermont scenes. Enjoyed the ride much. As we struck Cowskin Prairie, a little beyond Elk Mill, we saw a band of thirty armed and mounted men. When we learned they were rebels, we followed, Co. “G” pursuing on their track, and Co. “A” going around a piece of timber. They had too much of a start and escaped. Exciting time. Scouts and spies of the enemy out in every direction. The Major said after we had rallied, that our squad, who had gone three miles farther than most of them, had been within a mile of a camp of 400 men. We were fourteen miles from Marysville where Coffee with 1,000 men was reported. We were in the Cherokee nation. Fine country. Enjoyed it well.

May 8. Our city life is about over; we have orders to break up housekeeping here tomorrow and go on a rusticating tour in the country. Among the boys all is speculation as to where we are going and what our errand is.

Lenox Hodge happened to have come over from his hospital station on shore to call on us, just as the first patients arrived for the Ocean Queen, and, being the only doctor on hand at the time, was pressed into the service. He superintended the lowering into the forward cabin of all the very sick. He told us to have wine and water ready for the weakest, and I in the front cabin, and E. in the back, went round with brandy and water and gave it to every man who looked faint. By the time this was done, the gruel was ready, and it was good to see how refreshed the poor fellows were. E. and I were almost alone at the time these first men came. Messrs. Olmsted and Knapp were away on business, and the two young doctors had gone ashore; we should have been completely at a loss without Len. Tug after tug followed, and 800 men were put on board in the next three days.

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.—Our “peaceful” Sabbath here was one of fearful strife at Williamsburg. We met and whipped the enemy Oh, that we could drive them from our land forever! Much blood spilt on both sides; our dear W. B. N. is reported “missing”—oh, that heart-sinking word! How short a time since that blessed glimpse of his bright face, as he passed through town, and now he is on his weary way to some Northern prison; at least we hope so. His poor wife and mother! Our young friend G. W. was killed! How many bright hopes were crushed in one instant by the fall of that boy! I thank God that he had no mother. General Johnston still falls back, leaving the revered Alma Mater of our fathers to be desecrated, perhaps burned. A party of Yankees landed on Sunday at the White House. That Pamunky country, so fertile, now teeming with grain almost ready for the sickle, is at their mercy; we can only hope that they have no object in destroying it, and that they will not do it wantonly. W. and S. H. and their dear inmates are painfully near them. Richmond, or the croakers of Richmond, have been in a panic for two days, because of the appearance of gun-boats on James River. I believe they will not get nearer than they are now. I sat up last night at the hospital with D. L., who is desperately ill—his mother in the Federal lines. My companion during the night was Colonel M., of Maryland. While listening to the ravings of delirium, two gentlemen came in, announcing heavy firing on the river. We had been painfully conscious of the firing before, but remembering that Drury’s Bluff was considered impregnable, I felt much more anxious about the patient than about the enemy. The gentlemen, however, were panic-stricken, and one of them seemed to think that “sunrise would find gun-boats at Rocketts.” Not believing it possible, I felt no alarm, but the apprehensions of others made me nervous and unhappy. At daybreak I saw loads of furniture passing by, showing that people were taking off their valuables.

MAY 6th, 7th.—We have not yet reached the lowest round of the ladder. The Secretary is at Norfolk, and the place is to be evacuated. I would resign first.

Wednesday, 7th^[1]–We struck tents this morning, and moving three miles around to the right, cleared away the heavy timber and brush for our camp number 5. Our camp is just at the edge of the vacated breastworks of the rebels, they having lost them by being outflanked by our forces. Lieutenant Anderson of Company A returned from home today, having been on furlough.

[1] John W. Dwiggans of Company E, who was severely wounded at the battle of Shiloh, died on this day at Paducah, Kentucky.–A. G. D

May 7th. We weighed anchor this afternoon for up the river, and stopped for the night at a plantation some ten miles above Carrollton and twenty above the city. The scenery along here is perfectly beautiful, reminding one of pleasant scenes at home.

7th. Wednesday. At 2 A. M. prepared for another day’s march. At 3 were on the way. Reached Sparlan’s, a noted secesh, at nine A. M. Fed and ate breakfast. Jayhawked his store. They said the boys destroyed a great deal of property ruthlessly. Continued the march. During the day Orff and Purington had a fuss. Orff took his men and our wagons and turned east to Neosho. After going a few miles we got trace of a band of jayhawkers. Charged after three on horses. Quite a spirited time we had, but the men had a long start, getting on a high hill and in the woods. Scoured the woods, finding some suspicious characters but without arms. Kept eight prisoners. Encamped near by in the valley. They stole a horse during the night.

May 7th, ‘62.

My dear Joe: Down in the depths of the Ocean Queen, with a pail of freshly-made milk punch alongside of me, a jug of brandy at my feet, beef tea on the right flank, and untold stores of other things scattered about, I write a hurried note on my lap, just to tell you that we keep well, but have been so busy the past 48 hours that I have lost all track of time. You had scarcely left us the other day when our first installment of sick came aboard–150 men–before anything whatever was ready for them. We had only just taken possession of the ship, as you saw, and not an article had been unpacked or a bed made. With two spoons, and ten pounds of Indian meal (the only food on board) made into gruel, G. and I managed, however, to feed them all and got them to bed. They have come in the same way ever since, crowded upon us unprepared, and with so few to do for them; and we have now nearly 600, and more coming to-night. . . . Until to-day we have had only our small force who were detached from the Webster, and I may say without vanity that G. and I, and the two young doctors, Wheelock and Haight, have done everything. We women have attended to the feeding of the 400 or 500, and those two young fellows have had the responsibility of their medical care! Last night, however, a large party of surgeons, dressers and nurses arrived from New York, and though to-day things have been frightfully chaotic, they will settle down soon and each one will have his own work to do. . . . G. and I look after the special diet and the ordering of all the food. Beef tea is made by the ten gallons and punch by the pail. I was so busy yesterday morning that I didn’t know when you left, and only saw the last of the fleet far up York river.

Wilson Small.

The Merrimac is out; and the Monitor and Naugatuck are fighting her. The Galena has run up the James towards Richmond. We are lying along the dock at Yorktown quietly, where four days ago the rebels were ducking themselves in the water.

Franklin’s division has moved up to West Point with large reinforcements, and has been fighting at the point of the bayonet. Captain Hopkins steamed alongside this morning and called out the news, just down from West Point, on business, in the Mystic, Two of the 16th are killed, and Captain Curtis wounded in the chest. . . . We took on board the Small 20 to 30 from this fight. Had beds made on the cabin floor, and each man carefully put into a clean one as his stretcher came aboard, Captain Curtis among them. Several were amputations, and two died on the boat. Everything was done for them; beef tea and brandy given, and a capital surgical nurse was in charge. It was pleasant to see Mr. Olmsted come quietly into the cabin now and then. I would look round and he would be there sitting on the floor by a dying German, with his arm round his pillow–as nearly round his neck as possible–talking tenderly to him, and slipping away again quietly. He only came when the ward was quiet, and no one round to look at him.

New York, May 7th, 1862.

My dear Girls: I hadn’t time to write a long letter, but must send off a note to say that the Daniel Webster came to the dock at dusk yesterday. Charley went down at once, thinking there was a possible chance of your being on board, or at all events, some of the 16th sick. Mrs. Griffin, who came up to care for the men, had gone, and several of the officers had landed, but the men were to remain till morning. . . . I am thankful you were not on board, for your own sakes. Five men died and more are dying today, and will die in the act of being landed. . . . McClellan’s despatches to-day are not very hopeful. “He will do the best he can–“the “rebels out-number him greatly,” “are fighting fiercely; will contest every inch of the way; strongly intrenched,” etc., etc. Yesterday he called it a “ brilliant success.” . . . Your letter, Georgy, to Charley, of Saturday and Sunday, is received this morning. It furnishes us the missing links in the story, and will instruct Charley whom to apply to about his duties and his passage, etc. We felt that your telegram, with merely your signature, did not authorize him to go aboard and assume duty. . . . Mrs. Griffin sent us your penciled note as soon as she landed, with one from herself, saying she had left you well–“lovely and active,” I think were her expressions. She asked if I knew anything about Mrs. Trotter’s decision as to going to the front. The latter was here yesterday. She said she should love dearly to go, but she believed she couldn’t, her mother couldn’t spare her just now.

Later. . . . Charley went down yesterday and saw Mr. Strong, and was inducted as Purser of the ship Daniel Webster. Mr. Strong gave him a sum of money, and he has been on board to-day paying the medical cadets and the contrabands. Came home just now for a lunch and has gone down again to finish. He thinks he may have to sleep on board. The vessel is not cleaned up or ready yet. . . . They may get off to-morrow afternoon. Mrs. Trotter is to send up to-night to see what we have heard. She is going to join the Daniel Webster on its return trip.

Tuesday, 6th–We had battalion drill this afternoon. News came that Yorktown has been taken. New troops are still arriving and our lines are being extended to the right and left. A second line is supporting the artillery in the front line and the second line’s flanks are supported by the cavalry.