The Pamunky² between Cumberland and White House is a crooked stream, bending about in all sorts of ways. This section, however, is the most pleasant portion of the river. A ride between its green banks, rolling and rich, skirted with beautiful hills and dotted all over with patches of dark woods, was most enchanting; and every bend enhanced its beauty. A few miles above Cumberland, bordering the northeast bank, were a series of islands, upon one of which were a few log huts, inhabited by half-breeds. This place was called Indian Town, and its inhabitants were said to be the last remnants of Powhatan’s tribe. Near the huts there had been a ship-yard, and the half-burned ruins of a gunboat lay upon the river-bank and lined the shore below. Just above, at a point where its guns could sweep for miles both up and down the stream, was a Rebel earth-work, partly hidden by the trees, and with one end adjoining a house which claimed protection under of the omnipresent white flags. Several traps for fish-catching were paced in eligible spots on either bank.³

The approach to White House was one worthy the pencil. A beautiful curve of a mile in length, the outer side of which was a low bluff surmounted by trees, changed the course of the river. In the centre of this curve was the White House and its grounds, and above it were the wharves and landings. Land and water blended to produce the scene; and the life given it by the moving craft on the river and the toiling negroes on the shore rendered the whole most picturesque.⁴

The sail up the York and its larger branch, the Pamunkey, occupied the remainder of the day. The country was in its finest dress; broad green meadows skirted the stream as far as the vision could extend; the meadows landward were bounded by high banks, covered with flowering trees and climbing vines comfortable, peaceful-looking farm-houses, about which clustered groups of colored people, who waved their hands as the large white steamer glided by.⁵

On the evening of the second day after his arrival at the post, the event occurred which will for ever connect the name General Butler with the history of the abolition of slavery in America. Colonel Phelps’s visit to Hampton had thrown the white inhabitants into such an alarm that most of them prepared for flight, and many left their homes that night, never to see them again. In the confusion three negroes escaped, and, making their way across the bridges, gave themselves up to a Union picket, saying that their master, Colonel Mallory, was about to remove them to North Carolina to work upon Rebel fortifications there, far away from their wives and children, who were to be left in Hampton. They were brought to the fortress, and the circumstance was reported to the general in the morning. He questioned each of them separately, and the truth of their story became manifest. He needed laborers. He was aware that the rebel batteries that were rising around him was the work chiefly of slaves, without whose assistance they could not have been erected in time to give him trouble. He wished to keep these men. The garrison wished to keep them. The country would have deplored or resented the sending of them away. If they had been Colonel Mallory’s horses, or Colonel Mallory’s spades, or Colonel Mallory’s percussion caps, he would have seized them and used them, without hesitation. Why not property more valuable for the purposes of the rebellion than any other?⁶

[On May 24, 1861] He pronounced the electric words, “These men are CONTRABAND OF WAR, set them at work.”

“An epigram,” as Winthrop remarks, “abolished slavery in the United States.” The word took: for it gave the country an excuse for doing what it was longing to do. Every one remembers how relieved the “conservative” portion of the people felt, when they found that the slaves could be used on the side of the Union, without giving Kentucky a new argument against it, Kentucky, at that moment, controlling the policy of the administration. “The South,” said Wendell Phillips in a recent speech, “fought to sustain slavery, and the North fought not to have it hurt.” But Butler pronounced that magic word, ‘contraband,’ and summoned the negro into the arena. It was a poor word. I do not know that it is sound law; but Lord Chatham said, ‘nullus liber homo’⁷ is course Latin, but it is worth all the classics. Contraband is a bad word, and may be bad law, but it is worth all the Constitution; for in a moment of critical emergency it summoned the saving elements into the national arena, and it showed the government how far the sound fiber of the nation extended.”

By the time the three negroes were comfortably at work upon the new bake-house, General Butler received the following brief epistle, signed, “J. B. Carey, major-acting, Virginia volunteers:”

“Be pleased to designate some time and place when it will be agreeable to accord me a personal interview.”

The general complied with the request. In the afternoon two groups of horsemen might have been seen approaching one another on the Hampton road, a mile from the Fort. One of these consisted of General Butler and two of his staff, Major Fay and Captain Haggerty; the other, of Major Carey and two or three friends. Major Carey and General Butler were old political allies having acted in concert both at Charleston and at Baltimore - hard-shell democrats both. After an exchange of courteous salutations, and introductions of companions, the conference began. The conversation was, as nearly as can be recalled, in these words:

Major Carey: “I have sought this interview, sir, for the purpose of ascertaining upon what principles you intend to conduct the war in this neighborhood.”

The general bowed his willingness to give the information desired.

Major Carey: “I ask, first, whether a passage will be allowed through the blockading fleet to the families of the citizens of Virginia, who may desire to go north or south to a place of safety.”

General Butler: “The presence of the families of the belligerents is always the best hostage for their good behavior. One of the objectives of the blockade is to prevent the admission of supplies of provisions into Virginia, while she continues in an attitude hostile to the government. Reducing the number of consumers would necessarily tend to the postponement of the objective in view. Besides, the passage of vessels through the blockade would involve an amount of labor, in the way of surveillance, to prevent abuse, which it would be impossible to perform. I am under the necessity, therefore, of refusing the privilege.”

Major Carey: “Will the passage of families desiring to go north be permitted?”

General Butler: “With the exception of an interruption at Baltimore, which has now been disposed of, the travel of peaceable citizens through the North has not been hindered; and as to the internal line through Virginia, your friends have, for the present, entire control of it. The authorities at Washington can judge better than I upon this point, and travelers can well go that way in reaching the North.”

Major Carey: “I am informed that three negroes, belonging to Colonel Mallory, have escaped within your lines. I am Colonel Mallory’s agent, and have charge of his property. What do you intend to do with regard to those negroes?”

General Butler: “I intend to retain them.”

Major Carey: “Do you mean, then, to set aside your constitutional obligations?”

General Butler: “I mean to abide by the decision of Virginia, as expressed in her ordinance of secession, passed the day before yesterday. I am under no constitutional obligations to a foreign country, which Virginia now claims to be.”

Major Carey: “But you say, we can’t secede, and so you can not consistently detain the negroes.”

General Butler: “But you say, you have seceded, and so you can not consistently claim them. I shall detain the negroes as contraband of war. You are using them upon your batteries. It is merely a question whether they shall be used for or against the government. Nevertheless, though I greatly need the labor which has providently fallen into my hands, if Colonel Mallory will come into the fort and take the oath of allegiance to the United States, he shall have his negroes, and I will endeavor to hire them from him.”

Major Carey: “Colonel Malory is absent.”

This interview here terminated, and each party, with polite farewell, went its way

This was on Friday, May 24. On Sunday morning eight more negroes came in, and were received. On Monday morning, forty-seven more, of all ages, men, women, and children, several whole families among them. In the afternoon, twelve men, good field hands, arrived. And they continued to come in daily, in tens, twenties, thirties, till the number of contrabands in various camps numbered more than nine hundred. A commissioner of negro affairs was appointed, who taught, fed, and governed them; who reported after several weeks’ experience, that they worked well and cheerfully, required no urging, and perfectly comprehended him when he told them that they were as much entitled to freedom as himself. They were gentile, docile, careful and efficient laborers; their demeanor dignified, their conversation always decent.

General Butler’s correspondence with the government on this matter is not forgotten; but it is proper that it is repeated here. He merely related his interview with Major Carey in his first letter to General Scott, and asked for instructions. In his second dispatch, dated May 27th, he referred to the subject again.

“Since I wrote my last,” he observed, “the question in regard to slave property is becoming one of serious magnitude. The inhabitants of Virginia are using their negroes in the batteries, and are preparing to send their women and children south. The escapes from them are very numerous, and a squad has come in this morning, and my pickets are bringing their women and children. Of course these can not be dealt with upon the theory on which I designed to treat the services of able-bodied men and women who might come within my lines, of which I gave you detailed account in my last dispatch.

“I am in the utmost doubt what to do with this species of property. Up to this time I have had come within my lines men and women, with their children, entire families, each family belonging to the same owner. I have, therefore, determined to employ, as I can do very profitably, the able-bodied persons in the party, issuing proper food for the support of all, and charging against their services the expense of care and sustenance of the nonlaborers, keeping a strict and accurate account as well of the services as of the expenditures, having the worth of the services, and the cost of the expenditure determined by a board of survey hereafter to be detailed. I know of no other manner in which to dispose of this subject, and the questions connected therewith. As a matter of property, to the insurgents it will be of very great moment, the number that I now have amounting, as I am informed, to what in good times would be of the value of $60,000.

Twelve of these negroes, I am informed, have escaped from the erection of the batteries on Sewall’s Point, which fired on my expedition as it passed by out of range. As a means of offense, therefore, in the enemy’s hands, these negroes, when able-bodied, are of great importance. Without them the batteries could not have been erected, at least for many weeks. As a military question, it would seem to be a measure of necessity, and deprives their masters of their services.

“How can this be done? As a political question, and a question of humanity, can I receive the services of a father and a mother, and not take the children? Of the humanitarian aspect I have no doubt; of the political one I have no right to judge. I therefore submit all this to your better judgment; and these questions have a political aspect, I have ventured, and trust I am not wrong in so doing, to duplicate the parts of my dispatch relating to this subject, and forward them to the secretary of war.”

The secretary replied, May 30th: “Your action in respect to the negroes who came within your lines, from the service of the rebels, is approved. The department is sensible of the embarrassments, which must surround officers conducting military operations in a state, by which the laws of slavery is sanctioned. The government can not recognize the rejection by any state of its federal obligation; resting upon itself, among these federal obligations, however, no one can be more important than suppressing and dispersing any combination of the former for the purpose of over throwing its whole constitutional authority. While, therefore, you will permit no interference, by persons under your command, with the relations of persons held to service under the laws of any state, you will on the other hand, so long as an state within which your military operations are conducted, remain under the control of such armed combinations, refrain from surrendering to alleged masters any persons who come within your lines. You will employ such persons in the services to which they will be best adapted, keeping an account of the labor by them performed, of the value of it, and the expense of their maintenance. The question of their final disposition will be reserved for future determination.”⁸

I [William G. Le Duc] consulted with a friend [Napoleon J. T. Dana], a [1838] graduate of West Point who had seen honorable service in the war with Mexico, and asked him how best I could serve the country in the impending struggle. He agreed with me in believing war between the North and the South inevitable, and said: “War is business, and the best business capacity, backed by the longest purse, is sure to win. The South will be conquered, her slaves freed, her people impoverished. You say you know nothing of military matters, but desire to take up that part of the business you can most readily acquire, and where your services will be most effective. I think you are best fitted by natural and acquired qualifications for service in the quartermaster’s department. This is a very important department of the army service. An inefficient quartermaster department will render useless the best military organization, commanded by the best officers. It is through this bureau that all army supplies of whatever kind are obtained, transported, issued to troops, accounted for, and returns made to the Treasury Department of the general government. The difficult and intricate duties of the department require men of wide range of knowledge and experience; of willing hearts, and untiring zeal. No army can be efficient without the prompt exercise of their duties. At the same time there is more work than in any other branch of service, and less chance for advancement in rank and pay. The officers who direct or lead troops in battle, are – if they come out alive – those whom the people delight to honor. But the man whose business skill, energy and fertility of resources makes possible the marching and fighting of an army, rarely gains fame beyond the commander, or troops with whom he serves. I, having been educated at West Point, will, of course, tender my services, and, from my experience, will expect to command a brigade. And if you should apply for and obtain an appointment as captain and assistant quartermaster, I wish you would ask to be assigned to my command.”⁹

USS Chocura was screw gunboat launched October 5, 1861 by Curtis and Tilden, Boston, Massachusetts, and commissioned February 15, 1862, Commander T. H. Patterson in command.

USS Maratanza, a 786-ton double-ender, wooden steamer, was built at Boston Navy Yard in 1861, then launched 26 November and commissioned on April 12, 1862. USS Marblehead was an Unadilla-class gunboat launched by G. W. Jackman, Newburyport, Massachusetts on October 16, 1861.

USS Sebago, a 832 long tons (845-ton) double-ended, sidewheel steamer, was built by the Portsmouth Navy Yard, Kittery, Maine, launched on November 30, 1861; and commissioned on March 26, 1862, with Lieutenant Edmund W. Henry in command.

Camp near Pamunkey River, Va., May11/62 – Friday our Cavalry came up with the Rebels and charged through the lines, and falling into an ambush, turned and came back. The Cavalry lost three killed and several wounded but brought back a number of prisoners. The Rebels opened with skill and we were ordered to move up. Our Artillery replied and the Rebel rear guard moved on. We followed to this place and are now waiting orders. Food is scarce, and all that we have to eat is the cattle killed by the way. No bread or salt in the Regiment and I am most starved. But it is all for the Union and we do not complain.¹²

May 12^th 1862 – Left camp in the evening and marched to White House Landing on the Pamunkey River. Here we found three gun boats [Chocura, Sebago, and Marblehead], and we feel more comfortable. In the evening we attended an outdoor jubilee meeting held by the Negroes. One of them preached a sermon. He tried to prove from the Bible that truth that every man must seek his own salvation. He said: “Brethren, the Scripture says, ‘Every man for himself. Every tub on its own bottom.’ Not exactly Scripture but it came near the truth. Our chaplain addressed the slaves, and the scene was a wild one.¹³

White House Landing, Va., May 13/62 – This is historic ground for in yonder house George Washington was married. From this house Colonel Wheaton has procured a fine black saddle mule. We are now within twenty-four miles of Richmond.¹⁴

Sir: I have to report that since my last communication, at the request of General Stoneman, I proceeded the same day as the date of my letter up the Pamunkey River … as far as the White House, for the purpose of exploring the river and supporting his advance. We met with no obstacles of any kind, and found water enough for vessels drawing 16 feet. Saw at the White House quite a force of mounted rebels, which we [shelled and put] to flight.

The information derived from our reconnaissance will be of value to the general commanding, as it will enable him to make the White House, distance only 22 miles from Richmond, with a good road leading to the city, the base of his operations, or Cumberland, as he may elect.

The railroad bridge crossing the Pamunkey at the White House has been destroyed by the rebels, and also several gunboats at different points on the river.

On my return I left the Chocura at time White House, the Marblehead at Cumberland, and directed the commanding officer of the Sebago to return and report to you. The Maratanza, at the request of General Franklin, occupies a point midway between Eltham and Cumberland, where the railroad from West Point to Richmond approaches quite near the river, for the purpose of cutting off the use of the road by the rebels. I hope the disposition of the force will meet your approval.¹⁵

White House was peaceably evacuated by the enemy on the evening of May 10, and was immediately taken possession of by General Stoneman. Previously to their evacuation the Rebels burned the Richmond & York River Railroad bridge a rude structure built upon piles and crossing the Pamunky, making a break in it just large enough to allow the Federal gunboat to pass through and ascend the river above. This destruction was thus a positive benefit to the Union cause, and at any rate could not have inflicted any injury, as the intention of the supply department was to use the railroad from White House to the Chickahominy, abandoning the section leading to West Point. The orders given to General Stonemen, when he occupied White House, were to hold it until the enemy appeared with stronger force, in which case he was to retreat. A transport, with supplies, sent up from Cumberland on Sunday, May 11, landed them, with every thing arranged for a hasty departure if danger appeared. The enemy did not come, however, and on May 12 several thousand infantry marched to the place, and formed an adequate garrison.¹⁶

At Cumberland the march upon Richmond was really commenced. The corps d’armee were arranged into wings and centre, and General Stoneman, Philip St. George Cooke, and Emory, with their cavalry forces, were the advanced guard. General Keyes, with his corps, was on the extreme left, then general Heintzelman. General Sumner was in the centre, with General Fitz-John Porter adjoining, and General Franklin on the extreme right. The enemy were in force upon the Richmond side of the Chickahominy river, and had strong bodies advancing across it, but they made no demonstrations against the Federal army. General McClellan proceeded slowly and cautiously, abstaining from all offensive movements until the supply post at White House was established and the whole army free to act in concert.¹⁷

Slocum and other general officers came up, dripping wet, and having given directions to the troops where to camp, were glad to accept shelter in the dingy cabin of an old negro, the few smouldering [sic] embers in the great fireplace affording us a little warmth.¹⁸

The [White House] plantation here was an extensive level plain of rich and productive soil, easy of cultivation, and evidently under good care. It extended about five miles along the bank of the river, and nearly three inland. There were fields of clover a foot deep, and rye, and wheat, and corn, looking so bright and healthy, extending as far as the eye could reach. Clumps of the old shade trees broke the broke the monotony here and there, while broad avenues ran in various directions, fringed with willows and cedars. The plantation had belonged to the Custis estate, and, like the rest of that property, had descended to the Lee family.¹⁹

The scenery, as we advanced up the Pamunky, became more and more beautiful, the plantations more extensive and under a higher state of cultivation, and the people more wealthy and intelligent. In short, it seemed as if our march was through a succession of beautiful gardens, on which the eye dwelt with admiration. The people, however, were considerably alarmed at first, and approached us with an air of timidity.²⁰

Now there was a sort of feudal air about these estates which reminded me of many parts of the West of England. A high ridge extended along the bank of the river, which was obscured here and there by tall trees and clustering vines, affording delightful shade in the summer. The Lee house, a small, neat cottage of modern style, with gothic windows, pointed gables, and little balustrades, stood at the upper end of the ridge, overlooking the river, and was surrounded by a green lawn in which there were a few shade trees. A graveled walk led to the front entrance. The grounds were small, but laid out with considerable taste. Indeed, everything about the cottage was neat and plain. There were also flower and vegetable gardens near by, both under good condition; and it was here that we had the first strawberries and green peas of the season. Then there were extensive fodder yards, barns, and cribs, filled to their utmost capacity with wheat, corn, and other cereals. Below these there was quite a village of negro cabins, stretching along the ridge and divided up into classes, with streets running between. The many-colored occupants of these cabins seemed well provided for and contented. According to the Custis will, they would all be free on the 4th of July. I conversed with a number of them, found them much attached to the place, and quite indifferent about changing their condition to long as they could be made safe against being sold off the plantation.²¹

On the inside of this ridge there was a deep ravine, filled tangle-wood and vines, a number of bubbling springs, giving out a plentiful supply of pure cold water. Mrs. Lee and her sister, and a few old servants, yet remained in the house, and solicited protection from us. We at once placed guards over the house and gardens, and the Quartermaster placed a guard over the grain and forage. These were necessary as a means of preserving the property from useless destruction. We wanted the forage and grain for our own use. And we asserted that our army came into the South to protect the people and their property, not to burn down their houses and make war on defenceless [sic] women and children, placing guards over this little house and garden seemed to me perfectly proper.²²

The young gentlemen of the Sanitary Commission coveted the house, and complaints were made because they could not get it for a hospital. The good intentions of these gentlemen were not always advanced with good judgment; for although this house might have afforded very pleasant and comfortable accommodations for a number of themselves, it would have made a very poor hospital, not being capable of accommodating more than could be provided for in two hospitals.²³

It ceased raining about two o’clock, and at four General McClellan came up and pitched his headquarters tents on the lawn in front of the house. We all had a short supper that night, and slept in our blankets on the wet ground.²⁴

A number of pigs ran loose on the plantation, and soon became an object of envy to our soldiers, several of whom laid violent hands on them, thereby endangering that exact discipline which ruled in the army under McClellan, and discovering also an unpardonable want of respect for the orders of General Andrew Porter, our Provost Marshal General.²⁵

I have spoken in the early part of this history of the melancholy man in black, who figured in the organization of the 1st New York Lincoln Cavalry. He was now a Captain of the regiment, and being exceedingly hungry, and not having the fear of certain orders before his eyes, paid an old negro two dollars, good and lawful currency, for the privilege of shooting a pig. For this grievous military offense the melancholy man was placed under arrest, and confined to his tent, with a guard over him, for the space of ten days. It was reported that the General who ordered this severe punishment of an officer had the pig for supper. The melancholy man, I ought to mention, employed his time in giving license to his poetical inspirations. Indeed he wrote a number of poems, and painted several amusing figures, all illustrating the great military offense of killing a pig in an enemy’s country. And when he had sufficiently repented of his crime, he wrote a letter to the Commanding General, setting forth the great reform that had taken place in his morals, and promising that if he were restored his liberty, never to shoot another pig without a special order from the Provost-Marshal General.²⁶

On the 16^th our fleet of transports came up, and with it a swarm of inquisitive Jews and speculating “Yankees,” who commenced trade on the river, and were soon carrying on a brisk business with the soldiers. The White House plantation soon changed its color and character. Mrs. Lee, not fancying the demonstrative character of her new visitors, nor the freedom they made with her fields, applied to be sent through the lines to her husband. Her application was granted a few days after, and, with a flag of truce and an escort of cavalry, she was delivered outside of our lines, with an amount of ceremony beyond even what gallantry demanded.²⁷

Macon’s Plantation, Va., May 16/62 – Wednesday we left the White House and came to this place, a distance of three miles, and on the Richmond and West Pont Railroad. Last night one of the Rebel General Stewart’s orderlies came into our Cavalry lines by mistake and was captured. Two of our companies had a brush with the Rebels yesterday. We are on a high hill and our Batteries command the country round about. This farm is owned by a Dr. Macon. One of our gun boats fired an eleven inch shell that landed in his yard. Property is respected as much as it was in Washington. Even the generals sleep out of doors, and the rights of the people are respected. The men living here are surprised at this, as they were told the Yankees would destroy everything. The female portion of the population are very bitter and insult every soldier they meet, or rather think that they do. One of them said as the U.S. flag was borne by her house: I never expected to live to see this day.” If the Rebels were not in our front we could ride to Richmond by rail in a short time as the distance is only about twenty miles. General McClellan visited out camp.²⁸

On the morning of Friday, May 16, the camp at Cumberland was broken up, and the army left for White House, five miles northwestward. Troops were constantly leaving Cumberland until Saturday, and Sunday morning saw the last teams of the United States army being dragged from the once so thickly-peopled plain. A rain, which began on Thursday and continued all night, converted the roads into deep mud, and the marching troops and artillery cut them up terribly. This movement was most sadly delayed. Many of the teams had to be assisted along the whole distance by details of men, and it took nearly all of them thirty-six hours to pass between the two places. Virginia roads, after a rain-storm, are execrable.²⁹

The troops of General Franklin, Porter, and Sumner, upon their arrival at White House, encamped upon a piece of level ground extending along the Pamunky, and which had been planted with corn and clover. General Keyes and Heintzelman were to the south of them [advancing along the Richmond-Williamsburg Road now Highway 60]. Until his baggage-train arrived, General McClellan made the White House his headquarters. Troops and teams were arriving from Friday until Sunday, and it was not until the afternoon of that day that everything became settled and quiet. Monday morning, early, saw the vast army move again. The supply post had been established and had commenced operations, and the army was free to begin the earnest work before it. General Heintzelman and Keyes marched toward Bottom’s Bridge, a crossing-place of the Chickahominy ten miles east-southeast of Richmond and thirteen west of White House. These general commanded a force of forty thousand men of all arms of service, and were well supplied with artillery. The main body left by roads crossing the Peninsula north of the railroad, though near it and by noon on Monday, May 19, the entire army of the Potomac was on the direct road toward Richmond.³⁰

It was growing dark as we rounded to at “White House;” the camp fires of the grand army lit up the sky, and edged the tree-boughs of the margin with ribands of silver. Some drums beat in the distance; sentries paced the strand; the hum of men, and the lowing of commissary cattle, were borne towards us confusedly; soldiers were bathing in the river; team-horses were drinking at the brink; a throng of motley people were crowding about the landing to receive the papers and mails. I had at last arrived at the seat of war, and my ambition to chronicle battles and bloodshed was about to be gratified.³¹

If there were any kind of roads in this country, it would not matter so much, but they are all clay, and the center of the road is universally the lowest part of it, in consequence, an hour’s rain makes them impassable for artillery or wagons, and laborious and difficult for infantry.³²

We passed any quantity of Wagons that they left in the road, many of them stuck in the mud clear up to the bottoms of them and of the dead mules and horses there is not end, and the stench is horrible.³³

We have plenty of provisions & can buy anything we wish [from the Sutlers] at the landing. The Pamunkey is not more than 20 to 25 rods [330 to 412.5 feet] wide but is so deep that large vessels run up close to the shore & unload without the aid of lighters or a wharf. We are supplied here with as little trouble as if we were at Ft. Monroe.³⁵

I landed at White House, and found more than a hundred vessels, transports, and steamers lying in the river at this place. No one who is not familiar with a great army can have any conception of the vastness of the expedition of labor essential to feed it.³⁷

Extensive wharves were at once constructed by throwing our barges and canal-boats ashore at high tide and bridging them over. The railroad bridge across the Pamunkey had been burned by the enemy, and the rolling stock of the road removed. From a reconnaissance in front the railroad was found to be uninjured, with the exception of two or three small bridges, which had been burned. In anticipation of moving along this road toward Richmond, rolling stock for the road had been purchased, and a competent force employed to work on it. Working parties were immediately put on the road and the engines and cars landed an in a few days the road was again in running order, and cars loaded with supplies were constantly running to the front. The real troubles in supplying the army commenced at this point, owing to the condition of the roads, rendered almost impassable by frequent and long-continued storms… At this point our large depots remained until the battle of Gaines’ Mill, the 27th of June. During this time the army was in front of Richmond, from 15 to 20 miles in advance, all of its immense supplies were thrown forward by the railroad and the large supply trains of the army. The frequent and heavy rains, by injuring the railroad and impairing the wagon roads, rendered it a matter of great difficulty at times to transport the large amount of material and supplies, but in not instance, I believe, did our department fail in discharging the duty devolving upon it. Of forage and subsistence alone over 500 tons were daily required by the army. Adding to this the other necessary supplies swelled this amount to over 600 tons, which rain or shine, had to be handled at the depots each day and forwarded to our lines. The difficulties in supplying an army of 100,000 men are not generally comprehended. Each man consumes 3 pounds of provisions per day, and every horse 26 pounds of forage. One hundred thousand men would therefore be readily seen that an army of this size could leave its depots but a short distance in the rear in marching through a country destitute of supplies and depending on carrying everything with it.³⁸

Before leaving White House, the commissary post and its operation, together with the condition and usefulness of the contrabands employed there, ought to be fully described. At the time the army left, the post was not in full operation; but the following week saw a port on a tortuous, scarcely-known river of Virginia, which was a fair rival of New York, Philadelphia, or Boston in all extent of its coastwise commerce. Steam and sail vessels continually arriving and departing, extensive wharves, with cargoes constantly unloading, crowds of negroes, carrying boxes, rolling barrels, dancing, singing, and joking, officers, armed with a little brief authority, giving orders with stentorian voices, and all the hubbub and confusion of a large port, were found at White House. It was a busy town, without a single warehouse in which to store its goods. Lines of railroad ran to the riverside, and beside them the commissary stores were piled, and, as they were needed by the army before Richmond, were loaded upon the cars and sent forward. All was under the superintendence of two most excellent officers. The quartermaster’s department was presided over by Lieutenant-Colonel R. Ingalls, and the subsistence department by Captain G. Bell. Both were honest, hard-working men, and they conducted the business of the post admirably.³⁹

An unending stream of vessels passed both up and down the river. A fleet at Fortress Monroe fed the upward current, and another of anchored transports at White House received it. As the supplies were needed, the vessels containing them were brought to the wharves and unloaded by negroes; and as soon as the cargo was discharged the vessel was sent off to a Northern port for another. All kinds of craft were employed by the government, - brigs, schooners, sloops, canal-boats, steam-boats, and propellers, - every thing which could float, and whose owner could get the Government to employ it.⁴²

Some of the vessels chartered by the Government were the greatest oddities. The North seemed to have been ransacked to find all the queer, old, worn-out steamboats and broken-down barges and canal-boats. Steamboats which had, from age or debility, been discarded from Northern pleasure-lines, and which during 1861 suddenly disappeared from Northern bays and rives, were found plying up and down the York and Pamunky Rivers. Old tow-boats, familiar servants to the ship-owners of large cities, long, lank propellers, which neither nature nor art ever intended to be models either of speed or beauty, sprightly tugs, once frisking about in Northern harbors, all had been transferred to the Pamunky, where they puffed and labored and made the hills echo their shrill whistles.⁴³

Some vessels in Government employ were new and in excellent repair. By far the greatest portion, however, were in bad condition, and were held at exorbitant prices, - prices promptly paid, and in many cases without adequate services rendered. Some were completely broken down, - leaky hulls and leaky boilers, - and other managed to get rid of doing any work. One owner is said to have gone up to White House to look after his vessel, when he was told by some one in the quartermaster’s department, -⁴⁴

“The Government is going to discharge the boat.”

“Why so?”

“Because the captain keeps dodging about hiding among the big boats, and don’t carry one cargo in six months.”

Boats out of repair were condemned, and sent home to be fixed up, the payment of charter-money being stopped in the mean while. Unless damage was caused by Government officials, the authorities never paid for its repair. The boats on the Pamunky were condemned by scores.⁴⁵

Sail-vessels were generally chartered at prices very near the ruling ones in the freightmarkets. They were employed to carry cargoes from Northern ports to White House, were paid fair freights, and the usual allowances for delays in unloading.⁴⁶

The Pamunky is navigable to this point [White House], having sufficient depth, but is very narrow, in fact, so narrow that some of the larger steamers could not turn, for their stem and stern would reach either bank, except at selected places.⁴⁷

Over a 3-week period, the transports moved 3,600 wagons, 700 ambulances, 300 tubes of artillery, 2,500 head of cattle, and 25,000 horses and mules. Four hundred five vessels totaling 86,278 tons-including 71 side-wheel steamers; 57 propeller-driven steamers; 187 schooners, brigs, and barks; and 90 barges-hauled an enormous tonnage of cargo for the Peninsula campaign to Fortress Monroe in the spring of 1862. The daily supply requirements were prodigious: 3 pounds of subsistence per man and 26 pounds of fodder per horse or mule; over 500 tons of rations and fodder and over 100 tons of all other classes of supply for the entire army.⁴⁸

After a comfortable chat we parted company, and I rode along, meeting no one, until close to White House, where I passed an immense drove of cattle, and apparently an endless string of wagons; by good luck, I ran across Quartermaster Demarest, of the sixty-sixth [New York], in charge of the [French’s] brigade train, and asked him to send our wagons up to the regiment, which he promised to do.⁴⁹

When its cargo was discharged, the vessel usually sailed back to the North free of Government control. Still, in some instances the courses taken with steam-vessels was followed in the case of the others, and as exorbitant prices paid to charter indifferent hulks as were ever paid the owners of dilapidated steamboats. Coal-boats were generally bought, being made into wharves when their cargoes were all out. All the landing-places at White House were old barges and canal-boats securely lashed together and laid side by side until they extended to deep water. Lumber was sent up from Fortress Monroe to cover them, and to make floors upon which the stores might be piled on shore.⁵⁰

The depot at White House was made very perfect and efficient. Ten or twelve barge wharves were constructed for use of the various staff departments. The railroad was put in thorough repair, and the army on the Chickahominy was kept well supplied.⁵¹

Lines of railroad ran to the rive-side, and beside them the commissary stores were piled, and, as they were needed by the army before Richmond, were loaded upon the cars and sent forward.⁵²

Food is scant, and limited as to variety; the mess has little besides salt pork, hard tack, and a few cans of preserved peaches; breakfast, dinner, and tea are all alike. Luckily, the eau de vie, the commissary in the vernacular, and the coffee, comes down to us in endless streams, so we shall not utterly collapse.⁵³

Food is still poor for officers on account of the non-appearance of the sutlers. The men get fresh beef twice a week; bean soup, salt pork, dessicated vegetables, and occasionally canned peaches.⁵⁴

Replacement or initial issue of tentage and replacement clothing was issued at White House Landing to units passing through as well as forward at the advanced depots once they were established.

Coal was always furnished steam-vessels by Government. Hundreds of barges from the Lehigh and Schuylkill regions of Pennsylvania came to White House loaded with fuel, and, when the stock on any boat was low, the captain procured an order to fill his bunkers, and, hauling alongside the nearest barge, took what was requisite. Contrabands were always furnished for coal-heavers, and the order having the number of tones taken marked upon it was a sufficient voucher for the captain of the coal-barge. This coal was bought by the Government, under some of the numerous contracts which were so famous during the summer of 1861. It was of all qualities, - a great deal of good, but still a great deal of bad.⁵⁵

Lumber was sent up from Fortress Monroe to cover them [barges], and to make floors upon which the stores might be piled on shore.⁵⁶

Some of the transports – especially those containing ordnance stores - remained for months at anchor without being once disturbed.⁵⁸

Their sutler’s shops were on the most elaborate scale – quantities of barrels of sugar, lemons by the millions, cases of wine, beer and other liquors of every description, confectionary, canned meats, and fruits and vegetables, and great quantities of ice, all still in excellent condition. The eggs were packed in barrels of salt.⁵⁹

This White House plantation has since been a prominent feature in the war. I visited it about two weeks after the time we first occupied it, and found it transformed into a city of tents, inhabited by Jews, sutlers, and speculators. Streets were laid out and named, and long lines of tent-shanties, in which a brisk trade was carried on, gave a gay and picturesque appearance to the place. Here a persuasive Jew made his bow, and invited you in to buy his cheap clothing and his flimsy haberdashery; there, an enterprising gentleman from Boston had opened a showy establishment, and had everything the soldier wanted, from a bunch of matches to a leathery cheese. Then a respectable looking gentleman from New York invited you in to see the extensive stock he was just opening, and intended to sell at cost and expenses. He didn’t want to make a dollar out of the soldier, he was sure he didn’t; and as for the like of a bottle of good whiskey, why he always threw that in as a matter of friendship. The “Broadway Saloon” rivaled with the “Philadelphia House” in the quantity and quality of the dinner given you for a dollar. Both had their female contraband waiters, draped in the gayest attire; both swarmed with flies, and steamed with the heat of a furnace. Steamboats in the pay of the Government were turned into lodging-houses by their enterprising captains, who would oblige the traveler with a mattress and a blanket for a dollar a night. The good young men of the Sanitary Commission had a part of the city set off to themselves, and went about in search of the sick and hungry, whom they invited to come in and be healed. These gentlemen, I found, were the object of dislike to the Jews, who complained that trade was seriously damaged by the Sanitary men giving away what they had to sell. There, too, was the sleek, insinuating gentleman, with his dyed beard and moustache, and his hair so exactly oiled and parted, moving about and making the acquaintance of officers, to whom he would suggest in a quiet way that there was a “little game” going on just beyond the Oaks. The great feature of this city of camps, however, was the vast number of contrabands that had congregated in it, of every hue, and the gay colors they were draped in. The energetic Col. Ingalls, whose highest ambition was to see the soldiers well provided for, was the great presiding genius of this queer city, and managed its affairs in a manner that seemed to give satisfaction to all. I noticed that he was a great favorite with the contrabands, for whom he found employment.⁶⁰

All the labor of unloading stores or transferring them form one boat to another was performed by gangs of negroes. Twenty or thirty were placed under the charge of a sharp negro overseer, whose pay was generally regulated by the amount of work his gang performed. These negroes would commence at daylight and work until dark, every one arguing, ordering, singing, or shouting. A boat-load of negroes with no officer by was unbearable, and the overseer, whose supreme authority was most prominent in all his acts, generally led the rest in their noise by all sorts of unintelligible orders. Let an officer step on board, though, and all would be quiet, each man rolling his barrel or carrying his box, but keeping most careful watch over his tongue.⁶²

These negroes were paid good wages by the Government, and were fed with soldier’s rations. Each gang slept on a barge, and one of the number, exempted from other labor, did the cooking. The negro quarters were always a poplar place of resort after nightfall for al who wished to be amused. Songs, dances, stump-speeches, and arguments, in which “words of learned length and thundering sound” were used with out reference to grammar or dictionary, would be heard for hour after hour. A negro is an exhaustless wit; and these original Virginians, brim-full of every kind of fun, talked politics, discussed the war, gave characters to their former masters, and settled the fate of Richmond, nightly. But even humor often became listless; and theirs, as midnight approached, usually waned. Each weary fellow crept off to what he called his bed, the last one kicking over the candle. And until dawn Africa was quiet.⁶³

The usual statement of the officers of the subsistence department, as to their workabilities, was that if free negroes from the Slave States could be exclusively employed they would wish no better help. Slaves who were runaways, or who had been emancipated by the advance of the Union troops, were very poor workmen. A Virginia negro never performs a quarter of a day’s work on his master’s plantation. If he is a house-servant, he is usually a favorite, and, of course, knows nothing of the really hard labor required on the transports. Field-hands plough, plant, and hoe corn, reap the crops, and husk the ears; but the greater part of the them work when they please, and even then have no employment for large part of the year. Even when wages are offered, the stimulus is not sufficient to overcome ancient habits of laziness. The department was always anxious to rid itself of these lazy runaways.⁶⁴

Parties of fugitives from all parts of Eastern Virginia came daily into the lines of the army. The majority flocked to White House to seek employment. Of course, they were taken if there was the slightest possible chance of giving them work, either there or at the issuing-depots on the railroad. These negroes had strange ideas of what they expected to find in the North. One of these numerous parties was asked, -

“Well, what made you leave your master? Wasn’t he kind to you?”

Oh, yes, massa, berry kind, berry kind.”

“Well, didn’t he give you enough to eat?”

“Oh, yes, I plenty of dat; nuff to eat.”

“Well, what made you leave him?”

“Why, de trufe am dat he made us work.”⁶⁵

Another squad were questioned, -

“Well, what made you leave your homes?”

“Why, we’d heerd ‘bout de Norf bein’ such a nice place, so we tort dat we would go to um.”

“Nice place! Why, how do you mean?”

“Well, we were told dat nobody did no work up dar.”

The usual ideal with all the runaway slaves was, that once out of the Confederacy and they would be free of work. Many a one who has had a day-dreams, and night-dreams too, of living without work, has been terribly disappointed when he stepped upon the White House wharves. A free negro never has such ideas. He had to work too hard to support himself and family before he thought of leaving his home, ever to believe such rumors. No negro artificers or mechanics ever came into the Federal lines. They were always pressed into the Rebel service, where their skill in their various callings was employed to the utmost extent, and they were watched too closely to allow of desertion. The habits of the White House contrabands were a fruitful source of study, and gave amusement to everyone there.⁶⁶

As we approach Richmond the houses all the houses, especially those of the better class, are deserted and the sight of a white native is rare. Our hospitals are established in these empty abodes, thus made in an essential point to contribute to our comfort. I think the medical department of the Army is far behind all others in energy and capacity. There has been much unnecessary suffering among the sick…⁶⁸

At White House, Va. This hospital consists of 105 hospital tents at present – all I have been able to command. It will probably be extended when more are received. One-half of these tents have been furnished with plank banquettes. The remainder will be similarly furnished when the lumber can be procured. Brigade Surg. J. H. Baxter, Volunteer service, is at present in charge. He is to be relieved by Brigade Surg. A. T. Watson in a few days. Drs. Alexander Bicker, of New York; A. E. Stocker, Asa Millett, Joseph Underwood, Francis C. Grecue, and F. LeB. Monroe are the surgeons in attendance. When this hospital was organized, the medical service was performed gratuitously by Drs. Cogswell, Swinburne, Lansing, Willard, and Kneeland, of New York, and Drs. Page and Hall, of Massachusetts. They were relieved on the 26th by the contract physicians above mentioned.⁶⁹

In the course of two days we had them all removed to the White House. At this place, in one of the great fields, was pitched a city of hospital tents. The location of these was most ill-advised; for the ground was swampy, the water lying much of the time upon the surface. Many of the tents were without floors, and the men suffered from much dampness…There was an excellent position for the tents around the White House: here the grounds were high, well drained, and covered with grass, and the whole surface protected by shade-trees. No more genial and delightful spot could be selected near the Pamunky than the grounds around General Lee’s house. But for some unexplained reason a boggy field was chosen for the hospital tents, and guards were stationed at every gate of the White House, allowing no one to enter the premises.⁷⁰

‘I fear McClellan will be censured,’ one of them said, ‘for putting a guard over the house, and for not putting the hospital in the yard of the place, - although it is better where it is.’ And McClellan probably knew nothing of the guard, or of the location of the hospital, which is the Surgeon’s business.⁷¹

March 14, 1862, General McClellan instructed me to have five locomotives and eighty cars loaded upon vessels in the harbor of Baltimore, and held subject to his orders with a view to using them in his contemplated peninsular campaign.

They were purchased from northern railroad companies, loaded as directed and remained on the vessels until early May, when they were sent to White House, Virginia and placed upon the Richmond and York River railroad.

Another engine was added in June to the number, and all employed in transporting supplies between White House and the front, which toward the close of June, was twenty miles from White House and four miles from Richmond. Upon the withdrawal of the army of the Potomac to Harrison’s Landing, June 28, all rolling stock was destroyed or damaged, as far as practicable, to prevent it from falling into the hands of the enemy.⁷²

Ontario, No. 1, built by Hinkley & Drury in 1848, and sold by Fintchburg Railroad; captured by the Confederates and sold in 1865

Wyandank, (was Thornton) No. 8, built by Baldwin in 1853, and sold by Long Island Railroad; captured by the Confederates and sold in 1865

Exeter, No. 27, built by Hinkley & Drury in 1856, and sold by Boston & Maine Railroad; captured by the Confederates and sold in 1865

Speedwell, No. 18, built by Lawrence Machine Shop in 1859, and sold by Old Colony & Fall River Railroad; captured by the Confederates, renamed Chickahominy, and sold to O. H. Donovan in 1865 for $5,000

Spark, No. 33, built by Norris & Son in 1862, captured by the Confederates and sold in 1865

Lincoln, no record exists for this locomotive

The army had become much encumbered with baggage, in consequence of a large number of officers traveling with their families and furniture, as if they had joined the army for the purpose of opening a boarding-house as soon as they entered Richmond. General Franklin’s attention had been called to his subject; and that a stop might be put to this improper use of army wagons, he ordered an inspection of baggage to be made. An order was sent to the several regiments of the division to be got ready for marching. Captains Arnold, McMahon, and myself proceeded first to examine officers’ baggage in the First New York Cavalry, when considerable amusement was caused by Major Von Flopp, who had appropriated a whole army wagon to himself, and had it filled with the most promiscuous assortment of furniture ever soldier went to the wars with. Here was the venerable rocking chair, bolsters, pillows, mattresses, bed-quilts, a lounge, a bath tub, and a number of bootjacks; crockery enough for a large family, and a stock of preserved fruits and vegetables that showed the Major had no idea of living on the country. Now, Arnold was an officer of the old army, and a true soldier, who was content with his blanket and the ground for a bed, and traveled with a dozen shirt-collars, a towel, pocketcomb, and toothbrush for baggage. His remarks as he directed the orderlies to unload Major’s furniture were extremely amusing. Nor was it decreased by the air of surprise with which the doughty Major witnessed the recklessness of the mischievous orderlies as they tossed his venerable incumberances [sic] to the ground.⁸¹

“Provided for a large family, eh?” said Arnold. “rocking-chair, eh? Feather-beds’ll come next. Intend to open a boarding-house when you get to Richmond, that’s clear.”⁸²

“If a field officer can’t carry his traveling comforts, why, he’d better not go to the war. When a gentleman’s going into a country he don’t know, it’s wisdom on his part to go well provided,” replied the Major, with a polite bow.⁸³

“A man who can’t go to war as a soldier is an incumbrance [sic] to the army, and had better say at home,” returned Arnold, dryly, as he ordered the men to turn the traps over to the provost marshal.⁸⁴

“But, sir,” rejoined the Major, rubbing his head, “I can’t prove to you that I am a soldier and a gentleman. And I will get you the proof in writing; yes, sire, in writing. And as there is no knowing when this war will end, or when we leave Richmond when we get into it, I take it that he is a wise soldier who travels with his furniture.” We left the Major declaring that he would go see General McClellan, who was a friend of his, and get an order to restore his property.⁸⁵

It is due to Von Flopp to say here that he was not the only officer who incumbered [sic] the army with baggage enough to furnish a house. We found one Lieutenant Colonel traveling with his wife and three children, and to carry his furniture he had a government wagon and four horses, and a private wagon and two. Thus incumbered [sic], the Army of the Potomac marched, and the men were deprived of their proper allotment of transportation.⁸⁶

So far as I could observe and learn, the authorities at White House carried high heads, and covetous hands. In brief, they lived like princes, and behaved like knaves. There was one – whose conduct has never been investigated – who furnished one of the deserted mansions near by, and brought a lady from the North to keep it in order. He drove a span that rivaled anything in Broadway, and his wines were luscious. His establishment reminded me of that of Napoleon III. In the late Italian war, and yet, this man was receiving merely a Colonel’s pay. My impression is that everybody at White House robbed the Government, and in the end, to cover their delinquencies, those scoundrels set fire to an immense quantity of stores, and squared their accounts thus: “Burned on the Pamunkey, June 28, commissary, quartermaster’s, and hospital stores, one million dollars.”⁸⁷

Our corps [Keyes IV Corps] arrived at White House Landing, May 22, 1862, and here we found a large portion of our army, which was encamped on the wide, level plain between the wood-skirted road and the Pamunkey River, occupying tents of all descriptions. Another camp was located at Cumberland Landing, a few miles below White House. The first night of our arrival was a stormy and tempestuous one, and it was evident that an attack from the enemy was expected, as we received orders to lay upon our arms. The Pamunkey is navigable to this point, having sufficient depth, but is very narrow, in fact, so narrow that some of the larger steamers could not turn, for their stem and stern would reach either bank, except at selected places. The broad plain was crowded with tents, baggage-wagons, pontoon trains, and artillery, -- all the accompaniments of a vast army. Here some of the regiments who came out from home in a Zouave uniform changed their bright clothes for the regular army blue, and, as marching orders came with the sunrise, moved off the field, leaving windrows of old clothes on the plain.⁸⁸

General: Since my last communication I have established our final depot at White House, the point where the West Point Railroad crosses the Pamunkey River, 23 miles from Richmond. The army now occupies the line of the Chickahominy from 16 to 18 miles in advance. Supplies are now hauled by land from the depot, and owing to the nature of the roads it is about the utmost limit at which an army of this size can be supplied by wagon transportation. I trust, however, that in two days I shall have the railroad in running order, when all anxiety with regard to supplies may be dismissed. I have had all the rolling stock of the railroad ordered to White House instead of West Point. About twenty-five cars are now landed, and builders and carpenters only reached the White House last evening. They are now building the two small bridges between White House and Chickahominy which were burned by the rebels. These will be finished by to-morrow evening, when supplies can be brought on the road to which 7 miles of our extreme right wing. Our left will have to haul only about 2 miles. Only one span of the Chickahominy Bridge has been burned. The bridge across the Pamunkey and one short bridge near West Point will be rebuilt as soon as the road in front is put in running order. When that is done West Point can be made a depot also. It possesses many advantages. There is a good wharf, and 20 feet of water can be carried there, up one of the finest rivers I have ever seen. Two or three days would have been gained in putting the road in order had the proper vessels been forwarded from Baltimore. By some mistake the vessels which should have sailed first sailed last.⁸⁹

Request from McClellan to Cdr A. Murray [OIC, Pamunkey Flotilla] to confiscate private boats on the Pamunkey to stop smuggling across the river, 23 May 62 Take measures to have the small boats on the Pamunkey above the White House, and as much higher as you may deem prudent, collected at the White House and retained there until such time as the owners may be willing to take the oath of allegiance and the detention of the boats no longer necessary. The general understands that these boats are used to a considerable extent to convey across improper persons and articles. This request was converted to orders for the USS Currituck, Acting Master Shankland commanding, on 24 May 62 with caveats:

Tell citizens how/when they can get their boats back Don’t go upriver more than 10 miles⁹⁰

The river at this point is quite a large stream, very deep and muddy. The opposite bank is but little above the level of the stream, which now bore on its winding waters a numerous fleet of steamboats, barges, schooners, and every imaginable kind of vessel used in transporting troops; and the horses, mules, guns, gun-carriages, locomotives, railroad cars, and the immense amount of hay, grain, and commissary stores necessary for the army. Over one thousand vessels, of all sizes, were afloat on the river, - some freighted with ordnance stores, and many others pack with live cattle and mules, which from their unceasing uneasiness seemed to suffer from the heat and confined quarters. The landing of the cattle was an occasion of much sport among the hundreds of idlers on the bank; and as each one, tied by its horns, would be hoisted over the vessel’s side into the river, a shout of merriment would rend the air.⁹¹

With the exception of the dwelling and the out-houses described, and from which the place derives its name, there is not a dwelling for a mile round. And the shanties, erected by sutlers and refreshment dealers, were the only shelters from the burning sun, if I except the pine-trees along the river’s bank, beneath which, and extending to the railroad, the quarter-master, his assistants, post-office, telegraph, and a host of other officials, had erected large and comfortable tents, in which the business of their departments was carried on.⁹²

Steamers and sailing vessels of all sorts filled the stream, and crowded the landing. A large force of men were engaged in unloading stores, guns, ammunition, and every conceivable munition of war. We stepped from the deck of the steamer to the deck of Quartermaster Wagner’s wharf and storage barge; from the steady going ways of civil life into the very vortex of the cyclone of army life; and for three and a half years I was one of the atoms “in God’s great storm that roared through the angry skies.”⁹³

An officer seated at a table with a pencil and memorandum book… and several clerks near at hand, all busy, looked up as we entered his office, with a tired , appealing look, which I soon interpreted to mean ‘Please don’t take any more time to state your business than is necessary.’ He said: ‘I am CPT Wagner, in charge here. Can I do anything for you?” ⁹⁴

“I don’t know, sir. I am Captain Le Duc, Assistant Quartermaster, recently appointed, and assigned to Dana’s Brigade, Sedgewick’s Division, Sumner’s Corps.”⁹⁵

“I am glad to see you and make your acquaintance,” he answered, “and wish you had been assigned here, where we need more help. Your corps is advancing today, and a part of Dana’s Brigade is guarding the stores and landing. General Dana will be along tomorrow, and you will easily find your command – it is too late today. Take a bunk (two pairs of army blankets on some board slats) “on this barge for tonight, and start fair in the morning. Meanwhile you will want horses, and an outfit of desks and stationary, which you can select, and receipt for.”⁹⁶

In the morning I found that Dana’s Brigade had gone forward to Cumberland, to which I rode and reported to General Dana for assignment to duty, the 20^th of May, 1862. On the 21^st I was announced in orders as he Quartermaster of the Brigade, and, taking command of the transportation and ammunition trains, I moved them eight and a half miles to a camp near the Richmond and West Point railroad. The officer whom I relieved was a lieutenant of the line, detailed for this duty for as short time, who knew little and cared less for the business connected with it. The regimental quartermasters were intelligent and willing, and, by their assistance, my clerk and I soon became familiar with the various forms of account, and methods of making requisitions and obtaining supplies, and we thus commenced the endless duties of this department serving with troops in the field in active warfare.⁹⁷

On the 22^nd of May, late in the afternoon, I started, with all available teams, to bring supplies from the White House depot. The night was dark, the road unknown to me, and so muddy that, on level ground, the horses were splashing through a bed of thin mortar, and the wagons would sometimes drop to the axle in mud holes. Lieutenant Garland, a Regimental Quartermaster, whom I had taken with me, had rode ahead of the train to guide and direct. Knowing that we should turn to the left, and go eastward where we came to the Bottom Bridge Road, we were alert and anxious, lest, in the darkness, we should pass the junction, and run into the lines of the enemy. This anxiety became intense as we entered a wood, heard the tramp of marching men, and felt their presence, for we could not see them. We halted, and at the same time were challenged with: “Who goes there?”⁹⁸

Garland answered, “Friends – Brigade Train – Sumner’s Corps – going to White House for supplies. Who are you?”⁹⁹

“Kearney’s Division, marching to the front by way of Bottom’s Bridge. All right. Turn sharp to the left here, if you go to White House.”¹⁰⁰

“All right,” and we turned to the left, and soon met Kearney’s trains, floundering through the mud, making such progress as was possible in the dense darkness. Several of the wagons were hopelessly fast, the teams taken off, and tethered in the woods. I remember one team stuck in mud and water halfway to the horses’ bellies, and the driver asleep. We had to build a fire by the road side to enable us to see how to get by, and shortly after getting to dry ground we camped by a large spring and waited for daylight. In the morning I proceeded to the depot to draw supplies, instructed by Garland in the use of that all powerful paper, a requisition, properly signed and verified – the requisition of the commanding officer, backed by the receipt of the quartermaster, being a sufficient settlement of account with the depot officer. The officer receiving the property, or money, then becomes responsible, and either turns it over to other officers, on like vouchers, or it ammunition, or forage, expends it as such; if food, clothing, or garrison equipment, issues it to the troops, or wears it out in the service. This simple but thorough system of accountability suffices to transfer, expend, and accurately account for millions of dollars worth of property or money, without loss to the government.¹⁰¹

On the 23^rd I returned to the Brigade, and found it had moved forward to savage’s farm, and it was with difficulty that supplies could be brought to the troops in wagons, as they would frequently drop through the surface soil and rest on the axles . . ..¹⁰²

The ground on which he [McClellan] was about to operate may be described in few words. It presents but a single obstacle, the Chickahomony – a serious one, it is true. This river, after passing within seven or eight kilometres of Richmond, turns off, continuing to flow in a south-easterly direction, so that Bottom’s Bridge lies about eighteen or twenty kilometres from that city. Taking its rise to the north-east of the capital of Virginia, it winds through a valley regularly enclosed on both sides averaging eight or nine hundred meters in breadth. Following its downward course, we find Meadow Bridge first, over which passes a wagon-road and the Gordonsville railway; lower down, the bridge of Mechanicsville, commanded on the left bank by the hamlet of that name, is situated at the point where this river runs nearest to Richmond. Here the surrounding hills on each side are destitute of trees, and presently, on the road between Richmond and Cold Harbor, we come to New Bridge, which connects the hamlet of Old Tavern with the Gaines’ Mill heights. One kilometer below this bridge the forest again enfolds the banks of the Chickahominy, and of the West Point railway, which is situated one kilometre above Bottom’s Bridge. The only tributaries of the Chickahominy are, on the left bank, a small stream called Beaver-dam Creek, between Mechanicsville and Gaines’ Mill, and on the right bank a vast wooded swamp, known as White Oak Swamp, the waters of which empty into the river a few kilometers below Bottom’s Bridge. This swamp, which has its origin in the immediate vicinity of Richmond, is absolutely impassable, except at two or three points, where it becomes narrow, affording passage to a few cross-roads.¹⁰³

On the 24^th we marched westward four or five miles, and camped on Tyler’s farm, with the Chickahominy swampy bottomlands in our front, General Sumner’s Headquarters being in the Tyler house yard. There we remained undisturbed, and on the 26^th were building the grapevine bridge. The Chickahominy Creek, at this place, is an insignificant stream, with only two to four feet of water and mud, twenty to thirty feet wide when all together, but divided into several channels, and running through a heavily wooded swamp, four or five hundred yards wide. When the stream rises a few feet above the ordinary summer level, this swamp is inundated, and the bottom lands, which intervene between the swamp and the higher lands, are little elevated at their margins from the swamp, and so a rise of a few feet of river covers large areas. The rich and cultivated bottom lands are very soft, without corduroy or stone made roads, and are impracticable for artillery, or wagon transportation of the army.¹⁰⁴

In view of the particular character of the Chickahominy, and the liability of its bottom land to sudden inundation, it became necessary to construct between Bottom’s bridge and Mechanicsville eleven (11) new bridges, all long and difficult, with extensive log-way approaches.¹⁰⁵

The entire army could probably have been thrown across the Chickahominy immediately after our arrival, but this would have left no force on the left bank to guard our communication or to protect our right and rear. If the communication with our supply depot had been cut by the enemy, with our army concentrated upon the right bank of the Chickahominy, and the stage of water as it was for many days after our arrival, the bridges carried away, and our means of transportation not furnishing a single day’s supplies in advance, the troops must have gone without rations, and the animals without forage, and the army would have been paralyzed.¹⁰⁶

It is true I might have abandoned my communications and pushed forward towards Richmond, trusting to the speedy defeat of the enemy and he consequent fall of the city for a renewal of supplies; but the approaches were fortified, and the town itself was surrounded with a strong line of intrenchments [sic], requiring a greater length of time to reduce than our troops could have dispensed with rations.¹⁰⁷

Under the circumstances, I decided to retain a portion of the army on the left bank of the river until our bridges were completed.¹⁰⁸

I have two corps [Keyes and Hentzelman’s] across the Chickahominy, within six miles of Richmond; the others on this side at other crossings within same distance, and ready to cross when bridges are completed.¹⁰⁹

By the 19^th of May the skirts of the grand army had been gathered up, and on the 20^th the march to Richmond was resumed. The troops moved along two main roads, of which the right led to New Mechanicsville and Meadow Bridges, and the left to the railroad centre, and although the Chickahominy fords were but eighteen miles distant, we [Smith’s Division] did not reach them for three days. On the first night we encamped at Tunstall’s, a railroad-station on Black Creek; on the second at New Cold Harbor, a little country tavern, kept by a cripple; and on the night of the third day at Hogan’s farm, on the north hills of the Chickahominy. The railroad was opened to Dispatch Station at the same time, but the right and centre were still compelled to “team” their supplies from White House. In the new position, the army extended ten miles along the Chickahominy hills; and while the engineers were driving pile, tressel [sic], pontoon, and corduroy bridges, the cavalry was scouring the country, on both flanks, far and wide.¹¹⁰

After passing through these heavy forests, I emerged into the green fields at Baltimore Cross-roads. At all the houses for miles around, and in the barns and stables, had been left our sick men. As yet there was no provision made for sending the sick of the army to the White House. I rode to the place where I saw tents in the field, and learned that the sick were to be gathered from all these places and sent to a particular house. On repairing to this house I found a young surgeon, having under his care some three or four hundred patients. The men were extremely despondent, the place was lonely and out of the way, the army having gone, and they felt like those abandoned on a desert island. The hospital was in one of the large country houses, surrounded by a great number of outhouses, built without any definite plan. In these houses, and in tents and barns, were lying the sick, in all stages of disease. During the day all those who had been scattered over miles were gathered in. I returned the same day a part of the way, taking the long bridge road, which carried me almost to the pickets of the enemy, but I escaped the dangers of the army road.¹¹¹

A subtle enemy had of late joined the Confederate cause against the invaders. He was known as the Pestilence, and his footsteps were so soft that neither scout nor picket could bar his entrance. His paths were subterranean, - through the tepid swamp water, the shallow graves of the dead; and aerial, - through the stench of rotting animals, the nightly miasms of the bog and fen. His victims were not pierced, or crushed, or mangled, but their deaths were not less terrible, because more lingering. They seemed to wither and shrivel away; their eyes became at first very bright, and afterward lusterless; their skins grew hard and sallow; their lips faded to a dry whiteness; all the fluids of the body were consumed; and they crumbled to corruption before life had fairly gone from them.

This visitation has been, by common consent, dubbed “the Chickahominy fever,” and some have called it the typhus fever. The troops called it the “camp fever,” and it was frequently aggravated by affections of the bowels and throat. The number of person that died with it was fabulous. Some have gone so far as to say that the army could have better afforded the slaughter of twenty thousand men, than the delay on the Chickahominy. The embalmers were now enjoying their millennium, and a steam coffin manufactory was erected at White House, where twenty men worked day and night, turning out hundreds of pine boxes. I had, occasion, in one of my visits to the depot, to repair to the tent of one of the embalmers. He was a sedate, grave person, and when I saw him, standing over the nude, hard corpses, he reminded me of the implacable vulture, looking into the eyes of Prometheus. His battery and tube were pulsing, like one’s heart and lungs, and the subject was being drained at the neck. I compared the discolored body with the figure of Ianthe, as revealed in Queen Mab, but failed to see the beautifulness of death.¹¹³

On the 27^th I took the cars at Dispatch Station, to go to White House to obtain and forward supplies over the railroad, which had been furnished with engine and cars from Washington. In passing at a short distance from the Chickahominy, I noticed a little saw mill, and, on a siding, two cars loaded with lumber, ready for shipping, which subsequently served a very important purpose. The depot quartermaster had compelled order out of the chaos existing previously, and my requisitions were promptly filled, and I returned by rail on the 28^th, and found the troops had been ordered out, with three days rations, to hasten the completion of the bridge, and cut a road through the bottoms to and from the grapevine bridge. May 30^th I issued clothing and camp supplies to the troops, and sent teams to Dispatch Station four miles distant for supplies. They were the entire day in going and returning, nearly all the time being expended in returning, loaded. The ground was so soft that loaded wagons would cut through the top soil, and have to be unloaded and dug or pried out.¹¹⁴

Being short of forage, I seized nearly all that a farmer (Charles Baker) had, which was of little value, as it was corn blades, the only kind of coarse fodder the Virginia farmers save for their stock.¹¹⁵

The expectation began to be universal, that at the very first hour possible an advance would be ordered, and therefore preparations were made to send away all the sick in the hospitals on the field; and on the Monday [May 26] previous to the battle of Fair Oaks the order came down from head-quarters to move all the sick of the camp-hospitals to the White House.¹¹⁶

The arrangement was made to send the sick of Kearney’s and Hooker’s divisions to Meadow Station, about one mile east of Savage Station.¹¹⁷ The surgeons were generally satisfied with seeing the sick placed in the ambulances, and sent with them no nurses and often no food. They were brought to the station, and placed upon the porticoes and under cover of the building; a great number arrived and soon under every green tree were lying sick men. Many were constantly crying for water, many begging for medicines, and others beseeching me to write to their friends. To all these it was necessary, in various ways, to give attention. The porticoes around the station were from four to six feet above the ground; and there had to be a constant care lest the trembling, staggering men, or those tossing with fever, should fall and be seriously injured. We had expected to be taken from this place in two or three hours, but the cars on this road were in such demand to transport troops, ammunition, and forage, that the conductors refused to halt long enough to place the sick men on board. Hence we remained two days at this station. The suffering of he men the first few hours after their removal were very great; he fatigue, the jolting on the rough roads, the anxiety, all increased their miseries, and caused many to pray for death.¹¹⁸

In the course of two days we had them all removed to the White House. At this place, in one of the great fields, was pitched a city of hospital tents. The location of these was most ill-advised; for the ground was swampy, the water lying much of the time upon the surface. Many of the tents were without floors, and the men suffered from much dampness…There was an excellent position for the tents around the White House: here the grounds were high, well drained, and covered with grass, and the whole surface protected by shade-trees. No more genial and delightful spot could be selected near the Pamunky than the grounds around General Lee’s house. But for some unexplained reason a boggy field was chosen for the hospital tents, and guards were stationed at every gate of the White House, allowing no one to enter the premises.¹¹⁹