Diary of Private William S. White, Tuesday, June 4, 1861

Last evening we received orders to be ready to move by sunrise this morning, and many of us took the liberty of going into the city to bid our friends farewell—perhaps for the last time, for none of us know the result of this terrible war.

Our destination is Yorktown, where we will report to General Magruder, who now commands our forces on the Peninsula. We "broke camp" after an early breakfast and left in splendid spirits, as all of our boys were eager to see service."

Well, it was the morning of June 4th, when we were ordered away from Chimborazo to join Magruder's forces on the Peninsula, and we eagerly obeyed the summons.

When marching through Church Hill I felt very sad, for I was passing my old home, and I looked into the garden, all choked up with weeds now, thinking all the while of the fragrant flowers I used to gather there, long ago, and of those dear ones who used to watch them as they first began to bloom in the sunny summer time. Memories of the by-gone crowded thick and fast upon me, and then I saw one who had nursed me in the happy days of childhood. She rushed out into the street, clasped me in her arms, and whilst great tears of grief trickled down her dusky cheek, placed in my hands a huge loaf of bread, begged me to accept it, and humbly apologized because it was all she could give.

Lives there a Virginian whose soul does not melt into tenderness when memory backward flows to childhood's happy days, and he remembers the ever venerated “mammy," whose name was perhaps the first ever articulated by his childish lips; whose snow-white 'kerchief and kindly heart will ever be in the memories of the happy past; whose ample lap was so often childhood's couch, when tiny feet were wearied in roaming over the green fields, and joyously wading through the limpid streamlets of the old homestead! And then at night-fall, when the candles were lighted, and the elder ones gathered around the fire-place, how gently, tenderly, that old black "mammy" raised him up in her great strong arms, carried him through the spacious hall, and up the wide winding stair-case; then placing him carefully in his low trundle-bed, first taught his infant lips the hallowed words of the Lord's Prayer.

Ah! mayhap she's dead now, but the memory of that dear old nurse still lingers, and though that blue-eyed boy is a stern strong man, yet the green sod of her grave is oft bedewed with tears.

After a great deal of trouble and some pretty hard work we succeeded in getting our guns and horses on the York River train, and finally bade adieu to Richmond.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 94-5

Diary of Private William S. White, June 5, 1861

Rain poured in torrents all night. We reached West Point about daybreak, remained there three hours, and arrived at Yorktown at 12 o'clock.

An enemy's blockader is in sight, but keeps at a respectful distance.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 95

Diary of Private William S. White, June 11, 1861

The enemy having retired to Fortress Monroe, we left Bethel Church last evening and arrived at Yorktown at 1 o'clock in the night.

Nothing of interest to day, save the sending off of a howitzer belonging to my company, guarded by a squadron of cavalry. They will return to Bethel Church.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 100

Diary of Private William S. White, June 12, 1861

Slept the greater portion of the day—had no "roll call"—feet much blistered and unable to wear shoes, consequently the hot, broiling sun has full sweep at them. The New Orleans Zouaves, Colonel Coppens commanding, six hundred strong, arrived at Yorktown this evening. They are a rough looking set, but are splendidly drilled and well officered.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 100

Diary of Private William S. White, June 13, 1861

Had a grand review of all the troops stationed at Yorktown to-day, numbering five or six thousand. Magruder is a magnificent looking soldier when in full dress uniform.

Stanard's battery, Third Company, with the New Orleans Zouaves, ordered back to Bethel Church, left about sun down, and took the road easily, marched eight or nine miles and camped on the roadside. Nothing has been heard of the enemy since the late fight. According to their account of the late battle, our one Parrot gun was a masked battery of forty pieces of rifled artillery.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 100-1

Diary of Private Louis Leon: December 19, 1862

We got away from the open field at 12 M., and went two miles out of town, and camped in the woods. We met the Bethel regiment to-day. I met quite a number of old friends and comrades of my old company. We compared notes on soldiering. We came to the conclusion that at Yorktown we were playing soldier, but now there is no play in it. We are expecting a fight every hour.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 13-4

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: March 2, 1864

The 11th Connecticut regiment arrived here today, and we are ordered back to the News where we rejoin a part - of our old regiment which has just returned from home. This is good news to our boys who have been impatiently awaiting their return. So far as I am concerned I shall leave here with some regrets. We have been here several weeks and have got used to the officers and the place. The duty is light and somebody has got to stay here; as we have only a few months longer to remain we might as well be here as anywhere; but the orders are to go and orders must be obeyed. I will call on our officers and learn more about it. I am well pleased with these young fellows. They seem to know their business and have a remarkable faculty of attending to it and letting other people attend to theirs. Their business appears to be in their quarters, amusing themselves with their reading, writing and games. They are not at all afflicted with exclusiveness and are not disposed to recline on their dignity. The boys have a standing invitation to call on them any time during office hours, and almost every evening some of them are in there. I called on them and inquired if they were going through to the News with us or stop with their regiment at Yorktown. They said it was not supposed that we knew enough to go from here to Newport News alone, and their orders were to march us down there, but they should try to get transportation from Yorktown. I said I thought that would be the most difficult job they had undertaken recently, that we could get transportation from here just as well as from Yorktown. But the idea was for us to march, as marching 50 or 100 miles a week, carrying heavy knapsacks, was a fine thing for soldiers. It took the kinks out of their legs and prevented them from becoming round shouldered. I inquired if they thought of making the journey on brook water? One of them partly closed his left eye and replied, “Not muchly.” I then said I should like an order on the commissary for a few much-needed supplies. The order was forthcoming, for which I made my best bow, and bidding them good evening took my leave.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 132

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: March 7, 1864

A REUNION.

Left Camp West on the 3d, arriving at Yorktown in the afternoon. Here our officers tried to get transportation but were ordered to move on. Went on about six miles below Yorktown, and on coming to an old church in the woods halted for the night. This was a brick building with nothing but the bare walls and roof, the floors, windows and finish having been removed. We gathered what wood we could find and kindled a fire inside; the night was cold and wood scarce, so that we passed a very uncomfortable night, not sleeping a wink. We took an early start in the morning, reaching the News about the middle of the afternoon, where we rejoined about 200 of the boys who first went home. We were glad to once more see each other, and the greetings were cordial among both officers and men. We introduced our new officers to our old ones, and when our new officers were about leaving us, as a slight expression of our regard for them, we shook hands with them and gave them three rousing cheers.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 132-3

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: May 3, 1864

YORKTOWN.

On the 27th of April we broke camp at Getty's station, arriving here about dark, and marched up the Williamsburg road about two miles where we bivouacked. On this trip we were furnished transportation. On the morning of the 29th we were ordered into camp about three miles higher up the road. We had not much more than got up there when an order came for us to report at the landing immediately. We now had a five mile march before us, with the dust in the road about three inches deep. This was no march but a race, the companies trying to run past each other and get the advance to shield themselves from the dust. The colonel let them have it their own way and they made the dust fly right smart. We made the distance in less than an hour and on arriving at the landing looked like walking dirt heaps. A guard was placed along the bank of the river to prevent our washing in it for fear of creating a sand bar. There didn't appear to be anything wanted of us after we got here and we are now in camp on the bluff just above the landing.

Our brigade now consists of the 9th New Jersey and the 23d, 25th and 27th Massachusetts, under command of Brig. Gen. C. A. Heckman, and is known as the 1st brigade, 2d division, 18th army corps, under command of Gen. William F. Smith, otherwise known as “Baldy." Our knapsacks have been sent back to Portsmouth and we are now in light marching order, having only the clothing we have on and our blankets. Our camp equipage consists of two camp kettles for each company, and shelter tents. These tents are simply pieces of cotton cloth, about six feet long by four wide, made to button together, and every man is supplied with one which he carries with his blanket. Ordinarily they are used as blankets, but in case of a storm three of them are buttoned together, two forming the roof and the other the end, which makes a kind of burrow which partly shelters three men. We fellows who are used to roughing it think it all well enough, but I feel sorry for the officers; it will come pretty hard on them. It is something they are not used to and besides it sort of reduces them to the ranks.

Yorktown is hardly as much today as it was the day of Cornwallis' surrender, and I don't think there has been a nail driven or an ounce of paint used since. There is the old church and about a dozen weather-beaten old houses, the most pretentious of which was Cornwallis' headquarters.

The 18th corps are all here, infantry, artillery and cavalry, and yesterday Gen. Butler reviewed them. The review came off on the plain below the town and was quite an imposing affair. We came a very clever little dodge on the enemy last night. About midnight we were all routed up and every man given a chunk of raw salt pork. After standing there about half an hour holding our pork and awaiting further developments, we were then told we might go back to bed again. Now that was taking a mean advantage of a brave and chivalrous foe, thus to conceal the kind and quantity of our rations. They are probably thinking that we have nothing to eat and are keeping up their hopes that we shall soon surrender.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 136-7

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: May 8, 1864

WE LEAVE YORKTOWN.

On the afternoon of the 4th we went aboard the boats and dropped anchor at Fortress Monroe at dusk. The next morning we started up the James river. The river was alive with boats, schooners, tugs, gunboats, monitors and everything that could float, all loaded to their fullest capacity with troops, horses, artillery and all the paraphernalia of war. We passed Jamestown in the afternoon. Nothing now remains to mark the spot where the first settlement in Virginia was made, but a pile of bricks which composed a part of one of the buildings. We reached City Point just before night. Gen. Heckman's brigade landed on the Bermuda Hundred side and bivouacked a short distance from the landing, all the other troops remaining aboard the boats. The gunboats and monitors commenced fishing for torpedoes and working their way up the James and Appomatox rivers.

The next morning, the 6th, the troops commenced to land and Heckman's brigade was ordered to advance. We marched up the country six or seven miles, getting on to high ground and what is called Cobb's Hill. From here the spires of the churches in Petersburg can be seen, while in front of us is a kind of valley. At this point the Appomatax river turns in a southwesterly direction. On the banks between us and Petersburg was a battery. This is called a good position and here we halted. We sat here under a burning sun, watching the long lines of troops come up and file off to the right into the woods towards the James river until past the middle of the afternoon, at which time the whole of the 18th and 10th corps, comprising the army of the James, under Gen. B. F. Butler, had arrived.

HECKMAN'S BRIGADE LEADS OFF THE DANCE.

About 4 p. m., Gen. Heckman is ordered to make a reconnoisance towards the Petersburg and Richmond railroad. We moved down the valley in a southwesterly direction, and when about three miles out the 27th Massachusetts were advanced as skirmishers. A mile or two farther on we began to hear scattering shots, indicating that our skirmishers had found game. We hurried on and found the enemy in a shallow cut, on a branch railroad running from Port Walthal to the Petersburg and Richmond road. A sharp skirmish ensued, lasting till near dark, when Heckman withdrew, having accomplished his purpose of finding the enemy. In this skirmish the 25th lost four killed and several wounded.

The next morning, the 7th, we moved on them in force, Gen. Brooks' division moving directly on the Petersburg and Richmond railroad. Heckman's brigade, with a section of a battery, were ordered to occupy the ground of the night before. The enemy were in strong force and opened on us with artillery. Heckman paid no attention to that, but moved his battalions into line on the field in columns by division, and ordered them to lie down. The 25th were partially covered by a slight roll of ground in our front, while the 27th Massachusetts on our left were badly exposed to the enemy's fire and were suffering severely. Heckman saw the situation and ordered Col. Lee to move his regiment to the rear of us. He then ordered forward his artillery, placing them in battery in our front and set them to work. They made the rail fences and dust fly right smart. After a few shots had been fired a loud explosion was heard, followed by a big cloud of smoke, dust and debris in the enemy's line. One of their caissons had blown up, and our boys rose up and gave rousing cheers. Our guns continued shelling them, but got no return fire, their ammunition was probably exhausted and their guns perhaps disabled.

There was no infantry firing on either side, we simply holding our line and watching events. Heavy firing was heard over on the railroad. Brooks was at them and a fight for the railroad was going on. We were masters of the situation here and were able to protect his flank. About noon the enemy got an old gun into position and commenced throwing chunks of railroad iron at us. This caused considerable sport among the boys and they would cheer them lustily every time they fired, but a few shots from our guns, put a quietus on that sport. I have often read and heard of that kind of practice, but never saw any of it until

In the afternoon a battery of four 20-pounder parrott guns drove up, taking positions on a roll of ground some 20 rods in our rear and commenced firing. I at first thought they were shelling the enemy in front of us, and was a little surprised at it as all was quiet on both sides. But I soon noticed they were not. I got permission from Capt. Emery and went up there. Here was a signal officer, and nearly half a mile away to the northwest was a group of men signaling to this battery. The guns were at quite an elevation, and they would train them a little to the right or left, as directed by the signal officer. They were throwing shells over the woods and dropping them among the enemy on the railroad, some two miles away. Those shells were reported to be very annoying to the enemy and of great service to Brooks. It was splendid artillery practice and I was greatly interested in it. While watching them shy those shells over the woods I wondered where those devils over there thought they came from.

Towards night it was signaled that Brooks had accomplished his purpose, tearing up several miles of road and was drawing back to our line. The day's work was over and we drew back to Cobb's Hill. In this day's fight the 27th Massachusetts sustained the greatest loss, while the 25th suffered the worst in last night's affair. The heat was intense, and the men suffered severely, many of them being prostrated and carried back in ambulances.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 138-40

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: January 25, 1864

WILLIAMSBURG, VA.

Leaving Newport News on the afternoon of the 21st, we made a march of about ten miles, reaching Little Bethel just before dark, when we halted and put up in an old church building for the night. Little Bethel contains beside the church an old grist and saw mill, a blacksmith shop and three small houses, all in a rather dilapidated condition. There was no enemy within 100 miles of us, but Capt. Parkhurst, either as a matter of form or through force of habit, put out a few pickets. The old church had long ago been stripped of its seats and pulpit, if it ever had any, leaving the whole floor unobstructed. After supper and getting a little rested, a dance was proposed. A gallery extended across one end, and on the front of this the candles were thickly set, lighting up the old church in fine style. One of our German comrades of Company G had a violin and furnished the music. Sets were formed and the fun commenced. The pickets outside, hearing the sounds of revelry within, left their posts and came in, and standing their rifles in a corner threw off their equipments and joined in the dance. The captain remonstrated at such unlawful proceedings, but the cry was “Never mind the pickets! on with the dance! let fun be unrestrained.” The dance was kept up until the candles burned low, when we spread our blankets and laid down for rest.

In the morning we found outside five men with their horses and carts, waiting to sell us oysters. Fortunately we were the possessors of a few scraps of paper bearing the signature of Uncle Samuel. With a portion of this paper we bought the men's oysters, and after breakfast we chartered them to carry our knapsacks to Yorktown, thereby nullifying the order of the great Mogul at Fortress Monroe, and I have not the slightest doubt that if he knew of it he would hang every one of those men for giving aid and comfort to the incorrigible.

Leaving Little Bethel we marched over McClellan's famous corduroy road through white oak swamp, coming out at Warwick court house. This is a county seat, containing a small court house situated in a pretty grove of trees, a jail, church, half a dozen houses and a blacksmith shop. We arrived at the forks of the roads, a mile below and in full view of historic old Yorktown, about the middle of the afternoon.

Here we were met by an officer and commanded to halt till further orders. I thought this was as near as they dared have us come the first day for fear the malaria would strike us too suddenly.

From here the dim outlines of Washington's old intrenchments could be traced and near by was what appeared to be an angle in the line on which guns were probably mounted and which commanded the whole open plain between here and town. Now it did not require a great stretch of the imagination to go back to those days and see those brave men toiling and suffering behind those works, to build up for themselves and their posterity a country and a name. I could see in my mind the haughty Cornwallis march out upon this plain, surrendering his army and his sword to Washington, in the last grand act in the drama of the American revolution. But how is it today? Yonder rebel fort tells in thunder tones how well their degenerate sons appreciate the legacy.

About dusk an orderly rode up, bringing an order for us to proceed to Williamsburg, some fifteen miles further up the country. We tried to get the captain to stop here till morning and go through the next day, but it was of no use; he had got his orders to march and was going through tonight. I could not see that it was a military necessity to force the march, and after we had gone three or four miles my knapsack began to grow heavy and I grew tired. I halted by the roadside and said I was going to put up for the night and if any one would like to keep me company I should be pleased to have them. About twenty rallied to my standard. After the column bad passed we stepped through a low hedge of bushes into a small open space, surrounded by high bushes which served as a shelter from the winds. There we spread our blankets and laid ourselves down to forget in our slumbers the weight of our knapsacks. The stars looked down on us and the watchful eye of the Almighty was the only sentinel.

When we awoke in the morning the rising sun's bright ray was peeping through the bushes. The first object which met our gaze was a lean, lank, sundy-complexioned, long-haired native, who stood peering over the bushes at us. The first salutation that greeted his ears was, “Who are you and what do you want?" He replied, “I seed you was down yere, and thought I would come down and see if I could get some 'baccer?” Looking up we saw a house out in the field some distance off, and asked him if he resided there. He said he did. We gave him some tobacco and inquired about the roads and distince to Williamsburg. We inquired if there were any bush whackers about here? He said “There mought be once in a while one found." Then we put on a ferocious look and said they had better not be found by us unless they wished to join the antediluvian society and have their bones scattered in every graveyard from here to Jerusalem. The old chap's eyes stuck out and he began to edge off, thinking perhaps we had got on a thick coat of war paint. We made our coffee and started on our journey, and by easy stages came up with the boys in the afternoon. They had pitched the camp and got it all fixed up and named Camp, Hancock.

I thought the captain was as glad to see us as anyone, but he put on a stern look and inquired where we had been and why we fell out. We told him we were tired and lay down by the side of the road to rest and take a nap. He lectured us on the enormity of such proceedings, telling us we had committed a very flagrant breach of good order and military despotism. We assented to all the captain said, but kept thinking all the time that as we were a sort of outcasts, did not belong anywhere and were under no particular command, there wouldn't much come of it.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 111-3

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: January 17, 1864

The balance of the re-enlisted men left for home today, several of the officers going with them. We have now got our ultimatum, either enlist or go into exile. An order was received intimating that as enlistments seemed about through in this regiment, we would be more useful at Yorktown than here, and for us to be ready to march in heavy marching order at any time; but enlistments still drag.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 110-1

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: January 18, 1864

The order has arrived and we are under heavy marching orders for Yorktown, which is 30 miles distant and where, it is said, we shall probably all die of malarial fever or other contagious diseases. But there is one redeeming feature to the order; that is, if we will enlist, or three-fourths of those reported for duty will enlist, then they can all go home together as a regiment, while those not enlisting will be sent into banishment, the non-coms reduced to the ranks and permanently assigned to other organizations during their terms of enlistment.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 111

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 26, 1864

Another truly fine spring day.

The ominous silence on the Rapidan and Rappabannock continues still. The two armies seem to be measuring each other's strength before the awful conflict begins.

It is said the enemy are landing large bodies of troops at Yorktown.

Major-Gen. Ransom has been assigned to the command of this department; and Gen. Winder's expectations of promotion are blasted. Will he resign? I think not.

The enemy's accounts of the battle on the Red River do not agree with the reports we have.

Neither do the Federal accounts of the storming of Fort Pillow agree with ours.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 192-3

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, May 6, 1862

The latest northern papers, with flaming bulletins, are circulated in the army to-day. “All quiet on the Potomac—McClellan and Halleck before Yorktown and Corinth with mighty armies." The world seems to be standing still, watching and waiting to see the triumph of freedom and self-government against the combined fronts of hell-originated treason. Would that these great leaders would move forward and let the old flag go flying on and give the reins to these impatient armies. But it is perhaps well that they are held in check.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 69

Diary of Private Louis Leon: June 10, 1861

At three o'clock this morning the long roll woke us up. We fell in line, marched about five miles, then counter-marched, as the Yankees were advancing on us. We got to our breastworks a short time before the Yankees came, and firing commenced. We gave them a good reception with shot and shell. The fight lasted about four hours. Our company, was behind the works that held the line where the major of the Yankee regiment, Winthrop, was killed. After he fell our company was ordered to the church, but was soon sent back to its former position. This is the first land battle of the war, and we certainly gave them a good beating, but we lost one of our regiment, Henry Wyatt, who was killed while gallantly doing a volunteer duty. Seven of our men were wounded. The Yankees must have lost at least two hundred men in killed and wounded. It was their boast that they could whip us with corn-stalks, but to their sorrow they found that we could do some fighting, too. After the fight some of the boys and myself went over the battlefield, and we saw several of the Yankee dead—the first I had ever seen, and it made me shudder. I am now in a school where sights like this should not worry me long.

Our commander in this fight was Col. Bankhead Magruder. The Yankee commander was Gen. B. F. Butler.

From now on I will never again grumble about digging breastworks. If it had not been for them many of us would not be here now. We returned the same night to Yorktown, full of glory.

On July 18 we heard that our boys had again whipped the Yankees at Bull Run.

Also, on July 21, again at Manassas.

We changed camp a number of times, made fortifications all around Yorktown, and when our six months were over we were disbanded, and returned home. So my experience as a soldier was over.

I stayed home five months, when I again took arms for the Old North State, and joined a company raised by Capt. Harvey White, of Charlotte, and left our home on April 23, 1862, at 6.30 P.M. I stayed in Salisbury until next night, when I, with several others, took the train for Raleigh, where our company was. We went to the insane asylum to see Langfreid, who wanted to go home by telegraph to see his cotton and tobacco. After spending most of our day in town we went to camp four miles from Raleigh. We stopped a carriage, and the driver said he would take us to camp for three dollars. We halved it with him and he drove us there. We reported to Captain White, and he showed us to our hut. We were surprised to find it without a floor, roof half off and “holey” all over. We commenced repairing, and went to the woods to chop a pole for a part of the bedstead. We walked about a mile before we found one to suit us. It was a hard job to get it to our hut. We put it up and put boards across and then put our bedding on it, which consisted of leaves we gathered in the woods. And now it is a bed fit for a king or a Confederate soldier.

It commenced raining at dark, which compelled us to cover with our oilcloth coats. We did not get wet, but passed a bad night, as I had gotten used to a civilian's life again.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 3-5

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: December 23, 1863

Nothing further from the West. But we have reliable information of the burning (accidentally, I suppose) of the enemy's magazine at Yorktown, destroying all the houses, etc.

I learn to-day that the Secretary of War revoked the order confiscating blockade goods brought from the enemy's country.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 118

Senator Charles Sumner to Governor John A. Andrew, May 29, 1862

The whole trouble is directly traceable to McClellan, who took away to Yorktown an amount of troops beyond what he was authorized to do, so as to leave Washington defenceless. When the Prest. became aware of this, he was justly indignant. I have seen his letter of rebuke to McClellan in his own autograph under date of 9th April, to which McC has never deigned to reply. Should this letter ever see the light it will reflect honor upon the calmness, sagacity, and firmness of the Prdt. If published now it would crush McC.

SOURCE: Henry Greenleaf Pearson, The Life of John A. Andrew: Governor of Massachusetts, 1861-1865, Volume 2, p. 22

Major-General George G. McClellan to Edwin M. Stanton, May 4, 1862

HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC, May 4.

(Received 12 m.)

Hon. E. M. STANTON,

Secretary of War:

Yorktown is in our possession.

GEO. B. McCLELLAN,

Major-General, Commanding

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 11, Part 3 (Serial No. 14), p. 133

Major-General George G. McClellan to Edwin M. Stanton, May 4, 1862 – 9 a.m.

HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,

May 4, 1862 — 9 a.m. (Received 4.15 p.m.)

Hon. E. M. STANTON,

Secretary of War:

We have the ramparts; have guns, ammunition, camp equipage, &c. Hold the entire line of his works, which the engineers report as being very strong. I have thrown all my cavalry and horse artillery in pursuit, supported by infantry. I move Franklin and as much more as I can transport by water up to West Point to-day. No time shall be lost. Gunboats have gone up York River. I omitted to state that Gloucester is also in our possession. I shall push the enemy to the wall.

GEO. B. McCLELLAN,

Major-general.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 11, Part 3 (Serial No. 14), p. 134