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.

May 6th. Issued five days’ rations, sugar and coffee. Started on the march southwest at one o’clock. Companies “L”, “M”, “G”, “D” and “A” under Major Purington, and two Dutch companies under Lt. Col. Orff. Marched eighteen miles to Redding Mills. Secesh galvanized. Found plenty of corn and sheaf oats. Occupied a house deserted a few minutes before. A store near by. Nothing of importance left. News of rebels within twelve miles.

May 6th.–Mine is a painful, self-imposed task: but why write when I have nothing to chronicle but disaster ? ¹ So I read instead: First, Consuelo, then Columba, two ends of the pole certainly, and then a translated edition of Elective Affinities. Food enough for thought in every one of this odd assortment of books.

At the Prestons’, where I am staying (because Mr. Chesnut has gone to see his crabbed old father, whom he loves, and who is reported ill), I met Christopher Hampton. He tells us Wigfall is out on a warpath; wants them to strike for Maryland. The President’s opinion of the move is not given. Also Mr. Hampton met the first lieutenant of the Kirkwoods, E. M. Boykin. Says he is just the same man he was in the South Carolina College. In whatever company you may meet him, he is the pleasantest man there.

A telegram reads: “We have repulsed the enemy at Williamsburg.” ² Oh, if we could drive them back “to their ain countree!” Richmond was hard pressed this day. The Mercury of to-day says, “Jeff Davis now treats all men as if they were idiotic insects.”

Mary Preston said all sisters quarreled. No, we never quarrel, I and mine. We keep all our bitter words for our enemies. We are frank heathens; we hate our enemies and love our friends. Some people (our kind) can never make up after a quarrel; hard words once only and all is over. To us forgiveness is impossible. Forgiveness means calm indifference; philosophy, while love lasts. Forgiveness of love’s wrongs is impossible. Those dutiful wives who piously overlook–well, everything–do not care one fig for their husbands. I settled that in my own mind years ago. Some people think it magnanimous to praise their enemies and to show their impartiality and justice by acknowledging the faults of their friends. I am for the simple rule, the good old plan. I praise whom I love and abuse whom I hate.

Mary Preston has been translating Schiller aloud. We are provided with Bulwer’s translation, Mrs. Austin’s, Coleridge’s, and Carlyle’s, and we show how each renders the passage Mary is to convert into English. In Wallenstein at one point of the Max and Thekla scene, I like Carlyle better than Coleridge, though they say Coleridge’s Wallenstein is the only translation in the world half so good as the original. Mrs. Barstow repeated some beautiful scraps by Uhland, which I had never heard before. She is to write them for us. Peace, and a literary leisure for my old age, unbroken by care and anxiety!

General Preston accused me of degenerating into a boarding-house gossip, and is answered triumphantly by his daughters: “But, papa, one you love to gossip with full well.”

Hampton estate has fifteen hundred negroes on Lake Washington, Mississippi. Hampton girls talking in the language of James’s novels:   “Neither Wade nor Preston –that splendid boy!–would lay a lance in rest–or couch it, which is the right phrase for fighting, to preserve slavery. They hate it as we do.” “What are they fighting for?” “Southern rights–whatever that is. And they do not want to be understrappers forever to the Yankees. They talk well enough about it, but I forget what they say.” Johnny Chesnut says: “No use to give a reason– a fellow could not stay away from the fight–not well.” It takes four negroes to wait on Johnny satisfactorily.

.………..………..………..………..………..………..………...……….………..……….

It is this giving up that kills me. Norfolk they talk of now; why not Charleston next ? I read in a Western letter, “Not Beauregard, but the soldiers who stopped to drink the whisky they had captured from the enemy, lost us Shiloh.” Cock Robin is as dead as he ever will be now; what matters it who killed him?

______

¹ The Siege of Yorktown was begun on April 5, 1862, the place being evacuated by the Confederates on May 4th.
² The battle of Williamsburg was fought on May 5,1862, by a part of McClellan’s army, under General Hooker and others, the Confederates being commanded by General Johnston.

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

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

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

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

May 5th.—Yesterday we had a blessed Sabbath, undisturbed by rumours; it is generally a day of startling reports set afloat by idlers. The Bishop preached and administered confirmation at St. Paul’s. The President was a candidate for confirmation, but was detained by business. It is such a blessing to have so many of our public men God-fearing, praying Christians!

MAY 5th.—The prospect of battle produces a joyous smile on every soldier’s face to-day.

Monday, 5th–Nothing of importance. We did not get orders to move, so we had our regular drills today.

May 5th.

Vile old Yankee boats, four in number, passed up this morning without stopping. After all our excitement, this “silent contempt” annihilated me! What in the world do they mean? The river was covered with burning cotton; perhaps they want to see where it came from.

5th. Went out with Lt. McGowan after bacon. Went 14 miles. Saw the Challes-Louise. Enjoyed seeing the family again– talkative as ever. Took some hams from Mr. Robertson’s and some others. Went to Mr. Webb’s. Got some apples. Had a good time all around. Got back to camp at ten P. M. Major cross.

May 5th, 1862.—We are continually hearing rumors of a fierce battle at Williamsburg but we do not know on what these rumors are based; we have no telegraphic communication and for weeks the mails have been so irregular as to amount to no news at all. No letters; no passing; just no news at all that can be relied on. We can only hope and pray.

Susan Bradford is 16 years old when this entry was made.

On the York River, May 5.

Before we were up this morning, though that was very early, the army fleet (including Joe’s transport) was off up York river to cut off the retreat of the rebels. Our last load of sick came on board the Webster this morning early, and by nine o’clock she was ready to sail for the North, so G. and I, with Messrs. Knapp and Olmsted, and our two doctors, Wheelock and Haight, were transferred by the Wilson Small to the great “Ocean Queen,” lying in the bay. We sailed up to Yorktown, standing on deck in the rain to enjoy the approach to the famous entrenchments. Gloucester Point alone, with its beautiful little sodded fort, looked very formidable, and the works about Yorktown are said to be almost impregnable. The rebels left fifty heavy guns behind them and much baggage, camp equipage, etc.

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

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

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

At this time General McClellan, who, for some reason unknown to me, had been in the rear, was coming up, and met our flying battalions. By the active aid of his staff and a large escort, he succeeded in rallying our defeated army. He ordered up reinforcements, and sent them back to the field, where, though they could not drive the enemy, they maintained their ground. They retook Hooker’s lost guns, and captured one from the enemy. General Peck’s Brigade suffered severely, but he held them to the fight. The headquarters of the army and the large hospital of which I had control, were about two miles from Fort Magruder, around which the hottest of the fight raged. Shells were frequently falling and exploding in uncomfortable proximity to us, and by 3 o’clock could be heard ominous whispers about the necessity of abandoning our quarters, preparatory to a general retreat. The greatest anxiety now prevailed as to the fate of our army. The left could not hold out much longer without further reinforcements. The center had not been engaged. I hear that a dispute arose between Generals Sumner and Heintzleman, as to their rank, and that in the confusion resulting therefrom, the centre was not brought forward, nor were any of them sent to reinforce other parts of the line. (Strange that the Commander in Chief should not be with his army in a time like this!) The enemy were [continue reading…]

MAY 4th.—The Yankees on the Peninsula mean to fight. Well, that is what our brave army pants for.