Day 90. May 29, 1862.
90
spare the mockery of offering freedom to….
May Thursday 29
Cool and a heavy dew this morning and we got up very early this morning at 4oclock and took up the line of march at 5 ½ oclock. Came on towards White Plains passed through there. It is a small vilage on the Manass gap Rail Road where we crossed on and went on some 14 miles where we arrived at 3oclock and camped for the day and the rest of the Division is here and we will leave here in the morning again as that is the orders now and there is grate need of us laying by a few days and we crossed Bull run several times today.* We camped at Rectortown but we had hardly eaten our supper when we got orders to march. We took up the line of march at 7oclock. The whole Division marched on evenning accept the teams of the 4 Brigade which were left back until morning. A & D companys were left back to guard the teams
*We crossed Bull run several times today. Blair Witch to the 9th ridiculous degree. Or one of those wrong-turn movies, the whole franchise set in VA.
This Hallowed Ground: The Story of the Union Side of the Civil War Bruce Catton P. 17
“After the spring of 1862 the Civil War began to dominate the men who were fighting it. They still had the option to win or to lose, but they could no longer quite be said to be in charge of it. Coming of age, the war began to impose its own conditions; finally it come to control men instead of being controlled by them.
Until that spring ended, the situation was still more or less fluid; the war might yet be disposed of in such a way that it would not become one of the great turning points in history. But after the western army had been scattered and ordered to occupy territory instead of destroying Confederate fighting power, and after the eastern army had been driven into its muggy camp of refuge at Harrison’s Landing, not so much because anyone wanted them to happen as because the pressure of war made them inevitable.”
http://www.eyewitnesstohistory.com/southindefeat.htm This eyewitness account appears in The Private Journal of Henry William Revenal, 1859-1887 (1947) Robinson Charles Arney, ed.
Henry William Revenal was a plantation owner living near Aiken, South Carolina.
May 25 (1865)
“We still remain in doubt as to the emancipation policy. No official announcement except President Lincoln’s amnesty proclamation has been published… The party in power now are radical abolitionists and will do all in their power to urge it forward. Both policy and humanity would dictate that it should be gradual, so that both parties at the South may accommodate themselves to so radical a change in social and political economy… My Negroes have made no change in their behavior, and are going on as they have always hitherto done. Until I know that they are legally free, I shall let them continue. If they become free by law then the whole system must be changed. If the means which I now possess of supporting the old and the young are taken away, they must then necessarily look for their support to their own exertions. How they can support themselves at present, I cannot see… If Emancipation prevails, the negro must become a laborer in the field, as the whites will soon occupy all the domestic and mechanic employments…”
May 29 (1865)
“I went in to Aiken this morning and called at the hotel to inquire if any officer in Aiken was authorized to administer the Oath of Allegiance. They expected in a day or two to have it done here. It is necessary now in order to save property, have personal protection, or exercise, the rights of citizenship, or any business calling. Everyone who is allowed, is now taking the oath, as the Confederate govt. is annulled, the state govt. destroyed, and the return into the Union absolutely necessary to our condition as an organized community.
As Gen. Gillmore’s order, based upon Chief Justice Chase’s opinion, announces the freedom of the Negroes there is no further room to doubt that it is the settled policy of the country. I have today formally announced to my Negroes the fact, and made such arrangements with each as the new relation rendered necessary. Those whose whole time we need, get at present clothes and food, house rent and medical attendance. The others work for themselves giving me a portion of their time on the farm in lieu of house rent. Old Amelia and her two grandchildren, I will spare the mockery of offering freedom to. I must support them as long as I have anything to give.”
May 30 (1865)
“My Negroes all express a desire to remain with me. I am gratified at the proof of their attachment. I believe it to be real and unfeigned.
For the present they will remain, but in course of time we must part, as I cannot afford to keep so many, and they cannot afford to hire for what I could give them. As they have always been faithful and attached to us, and have been raised as family servants, and have all of them been in our family for several generations, there is a feeling towards them somewhat like that of a father who is about to send out his children on the world to make their way through life.
Those who have brought the present change of relation upon us are ignorant of these ties. They have charged us with cruelty. They call us, man stealers, robbers, tyrants. The indignant denial of these charges and the ill feelings engendered during 30 years of angry controversy, have culminated at length in the four years war which has now ended. It has pleased God that we should fail in our efforts for independence and with the loss of independence, we return to the Union under the dominion of the abolition sentiment.
The experiment is now to be tried. The Negro is not only to be emancipated, but is to become a citizen with all the right and privileges! It produces a financial, political and social revolution at the South, fearful to contemplate in its ultimate effects. Whatever the result may be, let it be known and remembered that neither the Negro slave nor his master is responsible. It has been done by those who having political power, are determined to carry into practice the sentimental philanthropy they have so long and angrily advocated. Now that is fixed. I pray God for the great issues at stake, that he may bless the effort and make it successful – make it a blessing and not a curse to the poor Negro.'”
Note: Gallup Poll in 1958: 4% approved of Black/White marriages. 2013: 87%. 2021: 94%. Getting there.
RICHMOND IS A HARD ROAD, written in 1863 by John Reuben Thompson (editor of the Southern Literary Messenger): “It was popular with the Confederate troops in the east, as it made fun of Union commanders in the first two years of the war. Each stanza mentions a separate campaign.”
RICHMOND IS A HARD ROAD
“Would you like to hear my song? I’m afraid it’s rather long
Of the famous “On to Richmond” double trouble,
Of the half-a-dozen trips and half-a-dozen slips
And the very latest bursting of the bubble.
‘Tis pretty hard to sing and like a round, round ring
‘Tis a dreadful knotty puzzle to unravel;
Though all the papers swore, when we touched Virginia’s shore
That Richmond was a hard road to travel.
Then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve,
Richmond is a hard road to travel
Then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve
Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe.
First, McDowell, bold and gay, set forth the shortest way,
By Manassas in the pleasant summer weather,
But unfortunately ran on a Stonewall, foolish man,
And had a “rocky journey” altogether;
And he found it rather hard to ride o’er Beauregard,
And Johnston proved a deuce of a bother,
And ’twas clear beyond a doubt that he didn’t like the route,
And a second time would have to try another.
Then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve,
For Manassas is a hard road to travel;
Manassas gave us fits, and Bull Run made us grieve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe!
Next came the Wooly-Horse, with an overwhelming force,
To march down to Richmond by the Valley,
But he couldn’t find the road, and his “onward movement” showed
His campaigning was a mere shilly-shally.
Then Commissary Banks, with his motley foreign ranks,
Kicking up a great noise, fuss, and flurry,
Lost the whole of his supplies, and with tears in his eyes,
From the Stonewall ran away in a hurry
Then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve,
For the Valley is a hard road to travel;
The Valley wouldn’t do and we all had to leave,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe!
Then the great Galena came, with her portholes all aflame,
And the Monitor, that famous naval wonder,
But the guns at Drewry’s Bluff gave them speedily enough,
The loudest sort of reg’lar Rebel thunder.
The Galena was astonished and the Monitor admonished,
Our patent shot and shell were mocked at,
While the dreadful Naugatuck, by the hardest kind of luck,
Was knocked into an ugly cocked hat.
Then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve,
For James River is a hard road to travel;
The gun-boats gave it up in terror and despair,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I declare!
Then McClellan followed soon, both with spade and balloon,
To try the Peninsular approaches,
But one and all agreed that his best rate of speed
Was no faster than the slowest of “slow coaches.”
Instead of easy ground, at Williamsburg, he found,
A Longstreet indeed, and nothing shorter,
And it put him in the dumps, that spades wasn’t trumps,
And the Hills he couldn’t level as ordered.
Then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve
For Longstreet is a hard road to travel –
Lay down the shovel, and throw away the spade
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I’m afraid!
Then said Lincoln unto Pope,
“You can make the trip, I hope,
I will save the Universal Yankee nation,
To make sure of no defeat, I’ll leave no lines of retreat,
And issue a famous proclamation.”
But that same dreaded Jackson, this fellow laid his whacks,
And made him, by compulsion, a seceder
And Pope took rapid flight from Manassas’ second fight,
‘Twas his very last appearance as a leader.
Then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve,
For Stonewall is a hard road to travel;
Pope did his very best, but was evidently sold,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I am told!
Last of all the brave Burnside, with his pontoon bridges, tried
A road no one had thought of before him,
With two hundred thousand men for the Rebel slaughter pen,
And the blessed Union flag waving o’er him;
But he met a fire like hell, of canister and shell,
That mowed his men down with great slaughter,
‘Twas a shocking sight to view, that second Waterloo,
And the river ran with more blood than water.
Then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve,
Rappahannock is a hard road to travel
Burnside got in a trap, which caused him for to grieve
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe!
We are very much perplexed to know who is the next
To command the new Richmond expedition,
For the Capital must blaze, and that in ninety days,
And Jeff and his men be sent to perdition.
We’ll take the cursed town, and then we’ll burn it down,
And plunder and hang up each cursed Rebel;
Yet the contraband was right when he told us they would fight
“Oh, yes, massa, they fight like the devil!”
Then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel;
Then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe!”
Hearts Touched by Fire: The Best of Battles and Leaders of the Civil War Edited by Harold Holzer P. 351-352
THE PENINSULAR CAMPAIGN.
George B. McClellan, Major-General, U.S.A. (excerpt)
“It was still permissible to believe that sufficient attention would be paid to the simplest principle of war to push McDowell rapidly on Jackson’s heels, when he made his inevitable return march to join the main Confederate army and attack our right flank. The failure of McDowell to reach me at or before the critical moment was due to the orders he received from Washington. The bridges over the Chickahominy first built were swept away by the floods, and it became necessary to construct others more solid and with long log approaches, a slow and difficult task, generally carried on by men working in the water and under fire. The work was pushed as rapidly as possible, and on the 30th of May the corps of Heintzelman* and Keyes were on the right bank of the Chickahominy, the most advanced positions being somewhat strengthened by intrenchments; Sumner’s corps was on the left bank, some six miles above Bottom’s Bridge; Porter’s and Franklin’s corps were on the left bank opposite the enemy’s left. During the day and night of the 30th torrents of rain fell, inundating the whole country and threatening the destruction of our bridges.”
Note: “It was still permissible to believe that sufficient attention would be paid to the simplest principle of war” shows McClellan’s utter bewilderment at the situation even as he continues on ratfucking his way toward nowhere.
Note: Under orders from General P.G.T. Beauregard, Southern troops evacuate disease-ridden Corinth, Mississippi, a crucial Confederate railroad junction, as Northern forces approach. 1862
*Heintzelman: Head of the III Corps of the Army of the Potomac in the Peninsula Campaign. Living Hell: The Dark Side of the Civil War Michael C.C. Adams P. 19 “General Samuel Heintzelman spread-eagled an orderly on an artillery wheel simply for not removing his hat.
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we crossed Bull run several times today….
“Screw you guys, I’m going home” Eric Cartman says in South Park, after he’s had enough reenacting.
Surrounded by the remains of a former era, the “reminiscence industry” impersonates the original, all the Confederate wampam. “Living historians,” as opposed to dead, as opposed to moving installation guys with too much time on their hands. They have these do-overs in Denmark, Poland, Sweden, Italy, Australia… mostly males, mostly taking the Southern side. They need to wear protective eyewear and shoot rubber bullets & when you get hit you play dead. “Attentshun Company: shoulder arms, right face, forward march, one two one two, one two one two” under the jib crane while it glides along the stainless steel tracks. Fog rises from hidden machines. They use Cream of Wheat for the smoke puff coming out the guns, grains of black powder, & a rubber wound that you give to your face then peel off like a Halloween mask. In the VICE documentary costumed workers & docents dress in period costumes waiting for break. The camera lurches from left to right following the course of a gray Rebel running, firing into smoke. The sound department uses the same laugh track off a Western for entertainment purposes. One page in the script equals a minute of screen time. They’ll loop in the lines later, during post-production, CGI in the whirling minie ball whizz-hit sounds because any part of war can get dubbed in later however the director wants. Okay, from the top, and…………ACTION. As many takes as it takes. Karo syrup for the blood. Then the part in the film where there’s the moon shot, moon-shot point in the reenaction. Here comes ominous thunder. Actors come in & out of consciousness over the artificial snowdrifts made with polystrene, lights suspended from cranes. Or hot, Union soldiers’ six pound uniforms wool & only get heavier when soaked in rain & all the things they carried. The specific pitch of tin cups rattling against bayonets when they tried to stay stealth. A bullet jacked up in the chamber & the ever-present wolf howling just off-camera, just past the treeline, crouched out of range of the TV cameras panning the field, the loudspeakers that bark “On to Washington D.C.” or “Richmond” when the very last credits roll up the screen. Smile, bow, wave. In the trailer, these men (& they are always men) set off some explosions & walk away unscathed, walk away in slo mo as the world explodes in the background behind them because it’s convenient to H’W’D like a Sam Elliot western, the reenactors’ cosplay & kegs of Budweiser, the beer & snacks run in the middle of battle, the plastic ponies to ride at the entrance to Safeway. What do you need. The provisions. A musket, blanks, a Southern uniform, some Marlboros. And – and! – oh wait, Walmart August 3rd, 2019, El Paso. Spliced together out of sequence. Like they want to star in the remake.
CUT! Reenactors now laying in the summer grass in a quiet field, playing dead while moving such that they can scratch any fly landing on their cheek. The applause comes, the woo-hoos, the loudspeaker explains the numbers, then the word “Victory.” Cut. Reenactors get pulled up off their side by others ’till they’re standing, dusting themselves off to saunter to the new location like they can leave on furlough or leave for good with their hides intact after the camera rolls & the director says cut. Because this is their closest approximation to being a soldier standing on the battlefield getting charged, the senses taken over, the tunnel vision, blasting beating heart, the not knowing if you’ll be alive even a few seconds from now.
We just can’t know it. That’s the part, & in that part for the whole, we miss the war. If you’ve experienced extreme fright, extreme pain, foreboding, in the context of war, if you’ve felt out-of-your-skin-and-bones-dissociating-peeing-yourself-while-shouting-for-MAMA in a wartime situation, you haven’t missed that part of the Civil War.
To signal it’s over some rent-a-bugler does “Taps” so they all rise to their feet & walk off to the concession stands.
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