MAY 28th.—Showers and sunshine.

Grant has crossed the Pamunky, and Lee is at the Yellow Tavern—not more than six miles from the city. The hostile armies are only a few miles apart, and the GREAT BATTLE may occur at any time, at any hour; and we shall hear both the artillery and musketry from my dwelling.

All is quiet on the south side of the river. Nothing from Georgia, except a short address from Gen. Johnston to the army, stating that, having the enemy now where he wants him, he will lead the soldiers to battle.

War and famine develop some of the worst instincts of our nature. For five days the government has been selling meal, by the peck, for $12: and yet those who have been purchasing have endeavored to keep it a secret! And the government turns extortioner, making $45 profit per bushel out of the necessities of the people!

I saw a dispatch, to-day, from Gen. Johnston to his Chief Commissary, at Atlanta, ordering him, after reserving ten days’ rations, to send the rest of the stores to Augusta!

It is said Mr. Memminger and certain members of Congress have in readiness the means of sudden flight, in the event of Grant’s forcing his way into the city.

It is thought, to-day, that Bragg will resign. If he does, then the President will be humiliated; for the attacks on Bragg are meant principally for Mr. Davis. But I doubt the story; I don’t think the President will permit Bragg to retire before his enemies, unless affairs become desperate by the defeat of our army in this vicinity.

May, Saturday 28, 1864

Sister Mary and I arrived at Mrs. Armstrong’s quite late—they went on in town, I drove over to Mrs. Clayton’s and spent the day. Hal is not ready to start yet, so it is doubtful whether or not we leave Monday morning. Maggie Cockrell was there, we spent a very pleasant day—I got back to Mrs. Armstrong’s quite late, found Sister Mary impatiently waiting. Mrs. A’s kindness I shall never forget—she bought all my things, and brought them through the lines, they are all just as nice and pretty as can be. I left my bundle with the dress in it, when we started, so that will make another trip tomorrow, which I hope Nannie and Helen will take for me. Father gave me a deed to Laura this evening, I am grieved to leave her, exposed to so many temptations, but hope the principal I have always endeavored to instill may save her. My room is all confusion, trunk not packed—every thing scattered.

Friday, 27th–We remained in bivouac until 2 o’clock waiting for rations. After getting our rations we crossed the Tennessee river by pontoon bridges and started on our way for Rome, Georgia. The railroad bridge of the Memphis & Ohio, here at Decatur, was destroyed by our gunboats soon after the battle of Shiloh. It took seventy-two pontoon boats to make our bridge. Our road today lay through a large swamp which it took some time for the artillery and provision trains to cross; besides we had some very rough country to cross, and did not get into bivouac until midnight.

Near Dallas, Ga., May 27, 1864, 8 a.m.

There has been some very heavy fighting on our left this morning, and everywhere along the line. We have been moving in line since 6 o’clock, supporting skirmishers and the 3d Brigade. Have driven the Rebels about three-quarters of a mile. The 14th Corps must have had a severe fight about 6:30. The bullets have whistled pretty thick this a.m.

Skirmish line, 11 a.m.—Osterhaus and Smith (I think), have just had a big fight on our left. At 8:30 I was ordered to take Companies E, K, B and G, deploy them and relieve the 3d Brigade skirmishers. Deployed and moved forward over one-half mile through the very densest brush—couldn’t see six feet, expecting every minute to find the 3d Brigade skirmishers, but they had been drawn in, and we were right into the Rebels before we saw them. Three of my company were wounded in an instant and three of K’s taken prisoner, but our boys made the Rebels skedaddle, and all of them got away. Twenty-one Rebels came up in rear of Captain Smith and two of his men. Private Benson shot one of them, and Smith roared out for the rest to surrender, which they did. They (Rebels) said they would not have been taken if the Georgia brigade had not fallen back. I think that is doing pretty well for four companies of our regiment, running a whole brigade. Firing is very heavy all around us.

Twelve thirty m.—A chunk of Rebel shell lit 15 feet from me. Lively artillery firing right over head. [continue reading…]

Friday, 27th.—About 4 A. M., very heavy cannonading began and continued for some time. Orderly Harmon struck in side with spent ball. P. M., Federals shelled Baker’s Brigade just to our left, very heavily, tearing down their log fortifications and killing good many of their men. 5 P. M., 39th having long-range guns, was ordered to support Baker’s Brigade and sharp-shoot batteries. Very dangerous place; two of regiment killed and several wounded; silenced the batteries in a short time; eulogized by General Reynolds and also by the division commander. During the hottest of the fight, a mere youth, probably not over sixteen or seventeen, was by my side, a handsome boy and brave. He said to me: “Pretty hot place, but we will put our trust in God and do the best we can.” The last words he ever spoke. As he raised to fire over the works, a minnie ball struck him fair in the head, and he fell by my side. What a pang pierced my heart, and how I wished I could tell his mother his last words; but I don’t know who he was. I only know he was with Baker’s Brigade, and suppose he belonged to it. We were relieved after dark and returned to our place in the second line, but were soon ordered to be ready to move at once.

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

May 27th. Rain. Regiment ordered out into line about 3 A. M. This is done to guard against a surprise while we are in the enemy’s country. Remained in line about two hours, then stacked arms and were dismissed and allowed to get our breakfast. This is a dark, rainy, dismal day in camp. Late this afternoon a battalion, 5th New York Heavy Artillery, came into camp, they having made a forced march, being ordered to join the army. We were old friends, having been in the same brigade during the winter of 1862-3. We greeted them with hearty cheers which they returned, while our Colonel and their Lieutenant-Colonel, who was in command, were shaking hands, while on horseback. Our company detailed for picket duty. Located on the extreme right of the picket line.

May 27.—News from Fitz Lee’s fight; it was not disastrous as at first reported; many were wounded, many captured, and but four killed. But four desolated homes by this stroke! but four widows, or broken-hearted mothers, in addition to the bereaved of the land! God be with them to comfort them! Nothing farther of the bayoneted wounded: I trust that it was all a fabrication.

We returned to the office yesterday, which had been closed for a week. It is pitiable to see how the rations are being reduced by degrees. The Government is exerting itself for the relief of the soldiers. God have mercy upon and help us!

27th. Orders to hitch up about 11 A. M. Moved about 3 P. M. Read one volume of “Marble Faun.” Marched all night.

MAY 27th.—Clouds and sunshine; cooler.

Nothing additional from the West. Several thousand Georgia mounted troops have arrived during the last 24 hours, in readiness to march to Lee. One Georgia regiment has 1200, and a South Carolina regiment that went up this morning 1000 men.

Lee’s army is at Ashland—17 miles distant. The enemy are marching down the Pamunky, north side. They will doubtless cross it, and march through New Kent and CharlesCityCounties to the James River, opposite Butler’s army. Grant probably intends crossing his army to the south side, which, if effected, might lose us Richmond, for the city cannot subsist a week with its southern communications cut. We should starve.

But Beauregard means to make another effort to dislodge Butler, immediately. It will probably be a combined movement, the iron clads co-operating. It is a necessity, and it must be done without delay, no matter what the cost may be. If Butler remains, the railroads will be cut. If the city be taken, not only will the iron-clads be lost, but a large proportion of the army may be cut off from escape. Immense munitions would certainly fall into the hands of the enemy.

The Whig and Enquirer both denounced Gen. Bragg to-day.

Senator Orr’s assault in the Senate on Gen. Bragg was followed by another from Wigfall, who declared there was a want of confidence in the President. Mr. Orr said his appointment was discourtesy to the Secretary of War, whereupon the Secretary fell ill yesterday, but to-day he is well again. Nevertheless, the Senate voted Gen. B. the salary, etc. allowed a general in the field.

And Gen. Winder has been treated as cavalierly as he treated me. Retribution is sure.

The city is excited with rumors. One is that Beauregard, when about to engage the enemy last week, was ordered by Bragg to evacuate Petersburg—certainly an insane measure. Gen. Beauregard (so the story runs) telegraphed the President (who was with him, as I heard) to know if such an order had his sanction. The President replied that Gen. Bragg’s orders were authorized by him. Beauregard disregarded the order and fought the battle, saving Petersburg. Then Beauregard tendered his resignation, which was not accepted. It is also said that the order was directed to the commandant of the garrison; but the courier was stopped by Generals Wise and Martin, who gave the paper to Beauregard.

There is another rumor that Bragg’s orders caused Lee to fall back; and, of course, the credulous people here are despondent; some in despair. There may be some design against the President in all this.

May, Friday 27, 1864

Sister Mary and I started early over to Mrs. Armstrong’s—found both Mr. and Mrs. A. at home—and as usual my best friends in trouble. Mrs. A. is going to Memphis tomorrow, and will get all the things I need and bring them out to her house. Sister Mary has made arrangements to go to town with her tomorrow to get her watch—We spent the day with Hal and Mrs. Clayton—after dinner we all came over to Mrs. Seymour’s to welcome she and her husband, who had just returned from their bridal trip—poor Beulah, I met her again, she was so delighted to see me, and it almost broke my heart to part with her, how much I love my poor dog.

Laura, Tip and I have sat up very late—I have been talking to Laura, Father will not let her go with me, I trust and pray that she may be guided through all temptation, and come to me just as I leave her—I am very unhappy to think of leaving home—

May 27th.–In all this beautiful sunshine, in the stillness and shade of these long hours on this piazza, all comes back to me about little Joe; it haunts me–that scene in Richmond where all seemed confusion, madness, a bad dream! Here I see that funeral procession as it wound among those tall white monuments, up that hillside, the James River tumbling about below over rocks and around islands; the dominant figure, that poor, old, gray-haired man, standing bareheaded, straight as an arrow, clear against the sky by the open grave of his son. She, the bereft mother, stood back, in her heavy black wrappings, and her tall figure drooped. The flowers, the children, the procession as it moved, comes and goes, but those two dark, sorrow-stricken figures stand; they are before me now!

That night, with no sound but the heavy tramp of his feet overhead, the curtains flapping in the wind, the gas flaring, I was numb, stupid, half-dead with grief and terror. Then came Catherine’s Irish howl. Cheap, was that. Where was she when it all happened? Her place was to have been with the child. Who saw him fall? Whom will they kill next of that devoted household?

Read to-day the list of killed and wounded.[1] One long column was not enough for South Carolina’s dead, I see Mr. Federal Secretary Stanton says he can reenforce Suwarrow Grant at his leisure whenever he calls for more. He has just sent him 25,000 veterans. Old Lincoln says, in his quaint backwoods way, “Keep a-peggin’.” Now we can only peg out. What have we left of men, etc., to meet these “reenforcements as often as reenforcements are called for?” Our fighting men have all gone to the front; only old men and little boys are at home now.

It is impossible to sleep here, because it is so solemn and still. The moonlight shines in my window sad and white, and the soft south wind, literally comes over a bank of violets, lilacs, roses, with orange-blossoms and magnolia flowers.

Mrs. Chesnut was only a year younger than her husband. He is ninety-two or three. She was deaf; but he retains his senses wonderfully for his great age. I have always been an early riser. Formerly I often saw him sauntering slowly down the broad passage from his room to hers, in a flowing flannel dressing-gown when it was winter. In the spring he was apt to be in shirt-sleeves, with suspenders hanging down his back. He had always a large hair-brush in his hand.

He would take his stand on the rug before the fire in her room, brushing scant locks which were fleecy white. Her ‘maid would be doing hers, which were dead-leaf brown, not a white hair in her head. He had the voice of a stentor, and there he stood roaring his morning compliments. The people who occupied the room above said he fairly shook the window glasses. This pleasant morning greeting ceremony was never omitted.

Her voice was “soft and low ” (the oft-quoted). Philadelphia seems to have lost the art of sending forth such voices now. Mrs. Binney, old Mrs. Chesnut’s sister, came among us with the same softly modulated, womanly, musical voice. Her clever and beautiful daughters were criard. Judge Han said…”Philadelphia women scream like macaws.” This morning as I passed Mrs. Chesnut’s room, the door stood wide open, and I heard a pitiful sound. The old man was kneeling by her empty bedside sobbing bitterly. I fled down the middle walk, anywhere out of reach of what was never meant for me to hear.

[1] During the month of May, 1864, important battles had been fought in Virginia, including that of the Wilderness on May 6th-7th, and the series later in that month around Spottsylvania Court House.

Thursday, 26th–We left our bivouac at 6 o’clock this morning and marched twelve miles. Within a few miles of Decatur we went into bivouac for the night. Advance brigades of our army were skirmishing with the rebels today and it is reported that the colonel of the Seventeenth New Jersey Regiment was killed. Our men captured a provision train and also took some prisoners. Our corps teams have been sent out for fodder.

Pumpkin Vine Creek, near Dallas, Ga.,
May 26, 1864, 8 a.m.

We did not make more than seven or eight miles yesterday, on account of some bad road that troubled the trains very much. We got into camp at dark, just as a thunderstorm broke. We hurried up our arrangements for the night–kicking out a level place on the hillside to sleep—gathering pine boughs to keep the water from washing us away, and spreading our rubbers over rail frames. Everything just finished, was just pulling our stock of bed clothes over me (one rubber coat), when the brigade bugle sounded the “assembly.” It was dark as pitch and raining far from gently—no use grumbling—so everybody commenced yelping, singing, or laughing. In ten minutes we were under way, and though we didn’t move a mile, every man who didn’t tumble half a dozen times would command good wages in a circus. We finally formed line of battle on a bushy hillside, and I dropped down on the wet leaves and slept soundly until 1 o’clock, and woke up wet and half frozen, took up my bed and made for a fire and dried out. Do you remember the case when the Saviour commanded a convalescent to take up his bed and walk? I always pitied that man, carrying a four-post bedstead, feathers, straw and covering and failed to see it, but if he had no more bedding than I had. I can better understand it. Heavy cannonading all the p.m. yesterday. It seemed some five or six miles east; don’t understand the way matters are shaping at all. Sherman has such a way of keeping everything to himself. The country between Van Wirt and Dallas is very rough, but little of it under cultivation; along this creek are some nice looking farms. The Rebels were going to make a stand, but didn’t. [continue reading…]

May 26th. Broke camp very early this hot morning. Once more on the march. Again waded Cedar Creek, passing through Strasburg, on up Fishers Hill, hot and very dusty. Again camp near Woodstock. Some of the boys come from the town of Woodstock, Connecticut. There are many incidents that remind us of home. As soon as we halted for the night, began to hunt for wood for our fires, to boil coffee, fry our bacon and hard tack. We seem to be always hungry and ready to eat. The health of the regiment at this time is good.

May 26.—We are now anticipating a fight at Hanover Junction. General Lee fell back to that point on Sunday last, for some good purpose, no doubt. Our army is in line of battle on the Cedar Hill plantation. The ladies of the family have come to Richmond to avoid the awful collision about to take place. That house, I sadly fear, is to be another sacrifice. Our successes have been wonderful, and evidently, I think, directed by God. We have, however, just met with a sad reverse in Charles City County. General Fitz Lee, commanding two brigades, fought a much larger body of men, who were strongly fortified, and was of course repulsed. Alas, alas for our gallant army! bravery cannot always contend safely against overwhelming numbers. We are very uneasy about our dear ones who were in that fight. Strange stories are told of the wounded having been bayoneted. It is difficult to believe that men of human hearts could do such things; and while I feel unhappy about the rumour, I cannot credit it.

26th. A rainy unpleasant day. Went down to the Regt. Regt. moved in the evening to Milford and on towards the “White House.” Trains commenced passing to the rear by another road to the white house.

MAY 26th.—Sunshine and showers.

Senator Henry’s letter was referred to Gen. Bragg, who returned it to-day with the indorsement that the suggested movement had not escaped attention, and a good result might soon be looked for. And sure enough, a dispatch was received from Atlanta to-day, announcing the capture of some 250 of the enemy’s wagons laden with stores!

It is to be hoped that Gen. Lee has some scheme of a similar character, to relieve Grant of his supply trains. Troops are daily coming hither, infantry and cavalry, whence in one hour and a half the former reach Lee’s army. The great battle still hangs fire, but to be of greater magnitude when it does occur.

Gen. Bragg did a good thing yesterday, even while Senator Orr was denouncing him. He relieved Gen. Winder from duty here, and assigned him to Goldsborough, N. C. Now if the rogues and cut-throats he persisted in having about him be likewise dismissed, the Republic is safe! Gen. Ransom has now full charge of this department.

Mr. Secretary Seddon is sick, and Mr. Assistant Secretary Campbell is crabbed—Congress not having passed his Supreme Court bill. And if it were passed, the President would hardly appoint him judge.

It is said one of our iron-clads is out—the rest to follow immediately. Let Butler beware!

May, Thursday 26, 1864

Miss Em was almost dressed when I awoke this morning. I was very much distressed to see her leave, in rememberance of the wickedness which filled my heart a day or two ago—I have entirely forgiven, and all unpleasant feelings have passed away. Poor Miss Em, she was the picture of dispair—did not get to see Dashiell, and little Emie, oh! ’tis hard for horrid politics to interfere with social feelings—They all left quite early for Memphis. Joanna and Robert got back safe—did not bring me anything I sent for—I am very much disapointed—but must think of some other way—Capt. Farrell arrived this evening—left Tupelo on yesterday morning—all the boys were well, most of the Batalion had gone to Alabama, Eddie was among the number—News is all we could wish for—by the grace of God Lee is still victorious. God bless our Armys , my dear Father and Brothers—Yankees gone to Hernando on a raide—have mercy and make me a better and more useful woman—

Wednesday, 25th–We packed our knapsacks and sent them by rail to Rome, Georgia. The advance of our corps started early this morning for Decatur, Alabama, but our brigade taking up the rear did not leave Huntsville till in the afternoon. From Decatur we are to proceed to Rome, Georgia. We marched through fine farming country with good buildings, but as usual the people are gone and the farms are idle. Such is the effect of war, the citizens being afraid to remain while our armies are marching back and forth.

May 25th.—Started at daylight, marching in direction of Dallas. Marching very hard. Some skirmishing on our right. Formed in line of battle at 2 P. M., near New Hope Church. Our brigade in second line. 6 P. M., Hooker’s Corps made heavy assault just to our left; two regiments of our division engaged. When the Federals began to advance, a whole battalion, sixteen guns, was massed in their front and did terrible execution, causing them to fall back.

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

May.–The 4th New York Heavy Artillery is having hard times in the Virginia mud and rain. They are near Culpepper. It is such a change from their snug winter quarters at Fort Ethan Allen. There are 2,800 men in the Regiment and 1,200 are sick. Dr Charles S. Hoyt of the 126th, which is camping close by, has come to the help of these new recruits so kindly as to win every heart, quite in contrast to the heartlessness of their own surgeons. They will always love him for this. It is just like him.

25th. Troops crossed the North Anna. Regt. camped near the train. Read in “Villette” and played a little at cards.

WINDER HOSPITAL, RICHMOND,
SECOND DIVISION, WARD 28,
May 25th, 1864.

Dear Mother:
You will undoubtedly be surprised and I fear alarmed to receive a letter from me at this place. But do not let your mind feel any uneasiness at all. Kind providence has so far favored me that I have passed through another very severe battle with only a skin wound on the inside of my knee. Though the exposure that we had to endure that evening and night (Thursday, the 19th inst.), was most too much for me. We fought for three or four hours in the evening, in a drenching rain, until night coming on, we rectified our lines, threw up some little breastworks with our bayonets, anticipating a night attack by the Yankees. Our lines were in speaking distance of each other. The Yankees would give us a cheer, then our boys would answer with a deafening Rebel Yell. Gen. Ramseur hallooed out to them twice, “Come on Yankees,” but they did choose to do so, though I believe they tried to make their men charge us, as we would hear their commands to that effect. We lay there about half the night, in the mud and water, behind our little mound of earth thrown up with our bayonets and hands, when we were ordered to fall back as quietly as possible. Such a command at such a time puts a strange feeling on a person, a relief to the mind which I can’t describe, nor any one realize, but those who have once been placed in that situation. I always have had a horrible idea of a night attack, and I do hope I may never have to encounter one. We marched back to our breastworks that night (about six miles). Reached there about day break; since then I have been troubled with weakness in the back and a general exhaustion from over fatigue. I was not able to keep up and do duty with the regiment, so I was sent off with a lot of wounded, as that was no place for a sick man, looking for a big fight at any moment. I think I shall be recruited enough in a week or so to return. Don’t feel any anxiety on my account, as everything may turn out for the best. Write me at this place as soon as you receive this.

Yours, etc.,
WALTER.

Don’t either of you get uneasy on my account and try to come out here. I will let you know if I get bad off to need your attention. I have written you two letters since the fighting commenced; did you receive them? Send me a sheet of paper as soon as you receive this, and I will write you again immediately.

Letters from two brothers who served in the 4th North Carolina Infantry during the Civil War are available in a number of sources online.  Unfortunately, the brothers are misidentified in some places as Walter Lee and George Lee when their names were actually Walter Battle and George Battle. See The Battle Brothers for more information on the misidentification.

MAY 25th.—Sunshine and showers.

Custis is back again, the battalion of clerks being relieved, after three weeks’ service in the field.

Yesterday there was skirmishing between the armies, near Hanover Junction—25 miles distant from the city.

Nothing of importance from the south side. But our ironclads are certainly going down the river—they say.

To-day it is thought a battle commenced between Lee and Grant. It will be, perhaps, a decisive engagement, whenever it does take place. And yet there is no trepidation in the community; no apparent fear of defeat. Still, there is some degree of feverish anxiety, as Lee retires nearer to the capital followed by the enemy. A little delay would make us stronger, as reinforcements, especially of cavalry, are daily arriving. The trains run from the city to Lee’s headquarters in one hour and a half.

A letter from Senator Henry, of Tennessee, to the Secretary, suggests that Forrest’s cavalry be now sent to the rear of Sherman’s army in Georgia, to cut off his supplies, etc., resulting in his destruction. Perhaps this is the purpose. And Lee may have some such design. A few days will develop important events. May they put an end to this desolating war.