4th.–”All quiet on the Potomac.”

September 3d.

Political news it would be absurd to record; for our information is more than limited, being frequently represented by a blank. Of the thirteen battles that Gibbes has fought in, I know the names of four only: Bull Run, Stonebridge, Port Republic, and Cedar Run. Think of all I have yet to hear! To-day comes the news of another grand affair, the defeat of McClellan, Pope, and Burnside combined. If I dared believe it! But accounts are too meagre as yet. Both Gibbes and George were in it, if there was a fight, and perhaps Jimmy, too. Well! I must wait in patience. We have lost so much already that God will surely spare those three to us. Oh! if they come again, if we can meet once more, what will the troubles of the last six months signify? If I dared hope that next summer would bring us Peace! I always prophesy it just six months off; but do I believe it?

Indeed, I don’t know what will become of us if it is delayed much longer. If we could only get home, it would be another thing; but boarding, how long will mother’s two hundred and fifty last? And that is all the money she has. As to the claims, amounting to a small fortune, she might as well burn them. They will never be paid. But if we get home, what will we do for bedding? The Yankees did not leave us a single comfort, and only two old bars and a pair of ragged sheets, which articles are not to be replaced at any price in the Confederacy, so we must go without. How glad I am that we gave all our blankets to our soldiers last summer! So much saved from the Yankees! [continue reading…]

Wednesday, 3d–Our regiment had to fall in line of battle this morning at 2 o’clock so that if the rebels should attack us they would not find us in our beds. The rebels did not appear and a big detail was put to work on the fortifications. When these works are completed a small force can hold them against a force five times the size.

Wednesday, 3rd. Spent the morning visiting with various boys about the prospects of going home. Boys all in high spirits. Talk of paying Burnett $5 to help us get out. Blunt gone to Leavenworth. When he returns, he will try to get the order made. Wrote quite a lengthy letter to Fred Allen–strange boy. This last letter is better than any I ever received from him.

Wednesday 3d.—Midnight, started for Lexington; arrived there just as day began to dawn, while gas-lamps were yet burning. Beautiful city; were greeted on every hand with waving handkerchiefs and Confederate flags. It seemed as if all in Lexington were Rebel sympathizers. Federal left thirty-six hours before our arrival, leaving wagons, tents, etc., in abundance. Remained still all day. During the day there was a continued stream of hacks, buggies, gigs, vehicles of almost every description, filled with ladies and Confederate flags, causing an almost incessant yell from the soldiers.

(Note: picture is of an unidentified Confederate soldier.)

SEPTEMBER 3d.—We lament the fall of Ewell–not killed, but his leg has been amputated. The enemy themselves report the loss, in killed and wounded, of eight generals! And Lee says, up to the time of writing, he had paroled 7000 prisoners, taken 10,000 stand of small arms, 50 odd cannon, and immense stores!

3d.—Wild stories on the street this morning, of the capture of prisoners, killing of generals, etc. Burnside and staff captured, they say. This last too good to be true.

3rd.–Moved our camp this morning, to Fort Worth, about two miles from Alexandria, a beautiful locality, overlooking city and river; and here, report says, we go into garrison for the winter. I would much rather be in the field, and now that my regiment is not likely to be exposed to active danger, I think longingly of home.

Mr. Lincoln’s call for 300,000 more troops was being answered. All over the country camps were being formed and boys drilled in all the pleasant villages of the land. Mother and all of us went to rest awhile, after Charley and G. came home, in Litchfield, and watched the drilling and recruiting.

Abby Howland Woolsey to H. G.

Litchfield, Sept. 3, 1862.

My dear Hatty ( Gilman): I should like you to see the beautiful camp of the 19th C. V. here before it is all broken up. We are to have a flag presentation from Mr. Wm. Curtis Noyes, and a religious farewell service was appointed to be held to-day in the Congregational Church. Good Dr. Vail will pray, I dare say, as he did on Sunday: ” God bless our 19th Regiment, the colonel and his staff, the captains, and all the rank and file.” . . .

The calm air, the physical comfort and peace we have here, make mental peace easier I suppose. We cannot be too thankful, we say to each other, that we are not in New York, heated and tired and despondent. It is infinitely sad, all this desperate fighting and struggling; this piecemeal destruction of our precious troops, only to keep the wolves at bay. But how well the country is going to bear it! I suppose these poor, innocent, confident new lives will be in the thickest of the fight at once. They will have their wish! be put to the immediate use for which they enlisted. . . . I grow stony and tearless over such a mass of human grief. I am lost in wonder, too, at the generalship, the daring and endurance of the Southern army. We are to fight it out now, even if it becomes extermination for us and them. . . .

Tuesday, 2d–There was some fighting south of town this morning and there is still some skirmishing. Old Patrick and several other citizens left, for they were afraid that the rebels would catch them and hang them. They had violated their oaths to support the Confederacy and then when the Union army took this section they had sworn to support the United States, and now thinking that this place would be retaken, they got out so as not to fall into the hands of the rebels.

Tuesday, 2nd. Slept till rather late–up in time for Sandy’s breakfast. During the day wrote to Fannie Andrews. Delos called in the morning and I read Ella’s letter to him. Commented upon it. In the evening Charlie came up and I again reviewed Ella’s letter with him. Read some in Shakespeare and the latest papers. Received letter from home. Last one from Minnie E. Tenney.

September 2.—Passed through Richmond at 7 A. M. Very nice little city. Saw quite a number of prisoners. Crossed Kentucky River at 12 o’clock; camped in a beautiful country, nine miles from Lexington.

(Note: picture is of an unidentified Confederate soldier.)

SEPTEMBER 2d.—Winchester is evacuated! The enemy fled, and left enough ordnance stores for a campaign! It was one of their principal depots.

Lynchburg, September 2.—The papers to-day give glorious news of a victory to our arms on the plains of Manassas, on the 28th, 29th, and 30th. I will give General Lee’s telegram:

Army of Northern Virginia,
Groveton, August 30 — 10 P.M.
Via Rapidan

“To President Davis:—This army achieved to-day, on the plains of Manassas, a signal victory over the combined forces of McClellan and Pope. On the 28th and 29th, each wing, under Generals Longstreet and Jackson, repulsed with valour attacks made on them separately. We mourn the loss of our gallant dead in every conflict, yet our gratitude to Almighty God for his mercies rises higher each day. To Him and to the valour of our troops a nation’s gratitude is due.

(Signed) “R.E. Lee”

Nothing more to-day—my heart is full. The papers give no news of the dead and wounded. The dreaded black-list yet to come. In the mean time we must let no evil forebodings mar our joy and thankfulness.

Sept. 2—Pass down to Groveton, where fearful fighting was done last week, August 28, 29 and 30. Horrid scenes! Many dead Federals still on the field, though a squad of their men, under flag of truce, has been some days caring for wounded and burying dead.

I found a wounded Federal sitting on the field—a broken thigh, a rifle ball through his arm and a bruised shoulder made him right helpless. His undressed wounds were sore. He asked me if I thought our surgeons would care for him. I assurred him they would. He said he had a wife and two little children in his northern home. His parents were pious and had raised him piously, but he had neglected his own soul. I said: “Brother, Jesus loves you. You came down here to kill my brothers, but I love you.” He broke down and sobbed aloud: “You don’t talk like one man that came here. He upbraided me.” He told me our men had been very good to him during the three or four days he had been there. As one hurried by he would give him water and food, and raise him up to rest certain tired muscles. Another would stop to give him more food and water and lay him down.

They had just taken the last Confederate wounded from that part of the field. He was on the surgeon’s table a few yards away. I trust this Federal was soon taken to that table. As I was about to hurry away to overtake my regiment he asked me to lay him down! How could I? Where could I take hold? I did the best I could. As I took him by the hand and commended him to God, I think my heart was as tender as it ever was. His bones may be in that field now. I hope to meet his soul in Heaven in a few years. Hurry on ten miles and overtake our regiment. Sleep cold and take cold. Frost next morning.

September 2

       Elizabeth devotes all her mornings to teaching Lotty & Harry and in so doing tires herself very much and in the case of Harry is conferring a benefit most thankfully received. I know no one so cultivated and elegant in her manners as Elizabeth, or accomplished, she has a disciplined, and highly improved mind, and is the help to her parents & her brothers & sisters, and the adorning attraction to the family circle.

       Gabriella is trying earnestly to cultivate herself, and I am afraid labours too hard to attain her object. She is graceful and elegant looking & posesses a natural cleverness of expression, very admirable, but her morbid feelings are the cause of much unhappiness to herself. Lotty will be very handsome when she is fully developed and through E’s care she will be a cultured & elegant young woman.—Harry is naturally clever but is not steady enough to do very hopefully.—

       Ann Smith & Mrs Eddings came to see us yesterday afternoon & Juliett Eddings, Miss Atkinson from the other Wing came in to tell us good bye she is going to pass some time with her Sister, Mrs Dozier the wife of Lieutenant D who has a house in Charleston.—

Chaplain Henry Hopkins to Georgeanna Woolsey.

Alexandria Hospital, Sept., 1862.

My dear Miss Woolsey: In great haste I write to say that to dispense anything which will do the bodies of these poor sufferers good will be a most welcome task. . . . Outside of the house, at the Mansion Hospital, we fed 1,500, 1,900, 2,500, and 1,600 patients passing North on successive days, so that those inside suffer some lack of care and of good food. Last night 75 came in from beyond the lines by flag of truce. I thought I had seen weary and worn-out human beings before, but these bloody, dirty, mangled men, who had lain on the battlefield, some of them two and three days, with wounds untouched since the first rude dressing, and had ridden from near Centreville in ambulances, were a new revelation. We cut their clothes from them, torn and stiff with their own blood and Virginia clay, and moved them inch by inch onto the rough straw beds; the poor haggard men seemed the personification of utmost misery. But some of them were happy. One noble man who attracted me by the manliness of his very look in the midst of his sufferings, when I spoke to him of the strong consolations of a trust in the Saviour, threw his arms about my neck and told me, weeping, that for him they were more than sufficient. Some of these fellows I love like brothers and stand beside their graves for other reasons than that it is an official duty…

It was for such heroic sufferers as the “nobleman” described by Chaplain Hopkins that Mary wrote these verses:

“Mortally Wounded.”

I lay me down to sleep,
With little thought or care
Whether my waking find
Me here–or THERE!

A bowing, burdened head,
Only too glad to rest,
Unquestioning, upon
A Loving breast.

My good right hand forgets
Her cunning now;
To march the weary march
I know not how.

I am not eager, bold,
Nor strong,–all that is past!
I am willing not to do,
At last, at last !

My half-day’s work is done,
And this is all my part:
I give a patient God
My patient heart;

And grasp His banner still,
Though all its blue be dim;
These stripes, no less than stars,
Lead after Him.

Weak, weary and uncrowned,
I yet to bear am strong;
Content not even to cry,
“How long ! How long!”

September 2, 1862, Daily Times (Leavenworth, Kansas)

Camp Near Rienzi,
Mississippi, August 22, 1862.
Ed. Times:–The 7^th boys are anxious to return to Kansas, and from the treatment we receive I must say that it cannot be wondered at. I have a few facts to state that will prove to you that the Kansas regiments have been imposed upon, and will be so as long as they remain here.
That Gen. Rosecrans is down on the Kansas troops is most true. He asserts that while three companies of the 7^th and a part of the 8^th Kansas regiments were at Trenton, Tenn., they stole a quantity of tobacco and sugar. Now this same Government star issued an order, a few days since, instructing the paymaster not to pay the 7^th until they make up the sum of $1053.50. This property belonged to rebels, they having fled previous to our troops taking possession of the town. The Kansas 8^th being out of his jurisdiction, are safe. The Illinois 2d was engaged in this diabolical confiscation; why does he not make a similar demand of them?
Again, it is my belief, as well as others, that he would rejoice to see the last one of us cut to pieces.
To show you that we are “some on a scout,” I will give you an account of the trip we had the two days previous.
About three hundred men, under command of Col. Lee, left here at three o’clock on the evening of the 19^th, to attack a rebel picket, said to number ninety men, near Marietta. We accordingly arrived at their first picket at daybreak. The advance guard [continue reading…]

September 1st. The fort was historic ground. The flag flying over it caused Mr. Key to write the song “The Star-spangled Banner,” in 1814. Many British shells and solid shot were piled up in the fort as relics. After the battle of Antietam many rebel prisoners were brought to the fort to remain as prisoners of war until exchanged. Sympathetic friends from Baltimore were allowed to visit them giving them supplies and encouragement.

A camp for sick and wounded Union soldiers was located in the enclosure. No notice was taken of them. That was more than the Connecticut boys could stand for. A raid was made on the Baltimoreans, they were run out of the fort, the supplies confiscated and given to the disabled Union soldiers who were in need of some comforts. Fort McHenry was like being in prison. We were not allowed outside of the walls. We had quite a number of callers from Connecticut. They were always welcome. Citizens were allowed passes to enter the grounds.

September 1st, Monday.

I woke up this morning and, to my great surprise, find that summer has already passed away, and that we have already entered the first month of fall. Where has the summer gone to? Since the taking of Fort Jackson, the days have gone by like a dream. I had hardly realized spring, when now I find it is autumn. I am content to let the time fly, though, as every day brings us nearer Peace – or something else.

How shockingly I write! Will I ever again have a desk or a table to write on? At present, my seat is a mattress, and my knee my desk; and that is about the only one I have had since the 2d of August. This is the dreariest day I have seen for some time. Outside, it has been raining since daybreak, and inside, no one feels especially bright or cheerful. I sometimes wish mother would carry out her threat and brave the occasional shellings at Baton Rouge. I would dare anything, to be at home again. I know that the Yankees have left us little besides the bare house; but I would be grateful for the mere shelter of the roof. I often fancy how we will miss little articles that we thought necessary to our comfort before, when we return. . . . And the shoes I paid five dollars for, and wore a single time? I am wishing I had them now that I am almost barefooted, and cannot find a pair in the whole country. . . . Would it not be curious, if one of these days while traveling in the North (if I ever travel again), I should find some well-loved object figuring in a strange house as a “trophy of the battle of Baton Rouge”? I should have to seek for them in some very low house, perhaps; respectable people had very little to do with such disgraceful work, I fancy. Suppose I should see father’s cigar-stand, for instance, or Miriam’s little statues? I wonder if the people would have the conscience to offer to return them? A young lady, passing by one of the pillaged houses, expressed her surprise at seeing an armoir full of women’s and children’s clothes being emptied, and the contents tied up in sheets. “What can you do with such things?” she asked a soldier who seemed more zealous than the rest. “Ain’t I got a wife and four children in the North?” was the answer. So we, who have hardly clothes enough for our own use, are stripped to supply Northerners!

One would think that I had no theme save the wreck of our house, if they read this. But I take it all out in here. I believe I must be made of wood, or some other tough material, not to feel it more. I sometimes ask myself if it is because I did not care for home, that I take it so quietly now. But I know that is not it. I was wild about it before I knew what had happened; since I learned all, few are the words that have escaped my lips concerning it. Perhaps it is because I have the satisfaction of knowing what all women crave for – the Worst. Indeed it is a consolation in such days as these when truth concerning either side is difficult to discover. The certainty of anything, fortune or misfortune, is comfort to me. I really feel sorry for the others who suffered; but it does not strike me that sympathy is necessary in our case.

Mrs. Flynn came to Lilly’s room, when she heard of it, well prepared for sympathy, with a large handkerchief and a profusion of tears, when she was horrified to find both her and Miriam laughing over the latter’s description of some comical scene that met her sight in one of the rooms. Seems to me that tears on all occasions come in as the fortieth article, to the articles of belief of some people.

Monday, 1st–We were expecting to be attacked today and so were in line of battle most of the time. Our pickets to the south of town are still skirmishing.^[1] The weather is very hot.

[1] It was the belief in camp that there was only a small force of the enemy in the locality of Bolivar, but that they were quite active to make our commanders think that they were here in large force to take the place, and so make us keep a large force there while their real objective was Corinth. We had then but a small force at Corinth while the Confederates had their main army in the vicinity of Iuka, Mississippi, with the view of capturing Corinth.—A. G. D.

Monday, 1st. Reveille in the morning at 3 A. M. Breakfasted and started in the advance. Crossed Drywood and grazed. Got into camp in time for dinner. Sandy cooking, and several officers boarding with the Major. Found a letter from Ella Clark, very welcome. I have a high regard for her. Boys fully convinced that we would soon get mustered out of service. Band went to Leavenworth and home this morning. Boys think can get away in ten or fifteen days. In the evening wrote home. Boys all talking about home visits.

Monday, September 1st.—Marched through the battlefield; Confederates all buried; saw several Federal soldiers not yet buried; camped one mile south of Richmond, after marching twenty-one miles.

(Note: picture is of an unidentified Confederate soldier.)

SEPTEMBER 1st.—Official dispatches from Lee, announcing a “signal victory,” by the blessing of God, “over the combined forces of the enemy.” That is glory enough for a week. When Lee says “signal victory,” we know exactly what it means, and we breathe freely. Our generals never modify their reports of victories. They see and know the extent of what has been done before they speak of it, and they never mislead by exaggerated accounts of successes.