June 18, 1862

June 18, 1862:  Stonewall Jackson, in response to Lee’s order, entrains his troops to transport them to Richmond.  Down the Valley, the troops of Fremont, Sigel, and Banks are being organized for the anticipated onslaught of Jackson storming down the Valley again.  Rumors abound among the Federal commanders about how Longstreet had come to the Valley with more troops, and that Jackson was going to Richmond.  Meanwhile, Jackson moves quietly, keeping his own counsel.

---C.S. War Department clerk John Beauchamp Jones writes in his journal:  “JUNE 18TH—Lee is quietly preparing to attack McClellan. The President, who was on the battle-field, is very cheerful.”

---Charles Francis Adams, Jr., an officer in the U.S. Cavalry, writes home about the exhilarating experience of being under fire:

You have probably heard, through Southern sources and with their usual degree of truth, of the action yesterday and you may have been anxious for my safety, though I hope you were sufficiently ignorant of all the facts not to be apprehensive for me personally. The amount of the whole story is that we had a severe action and were repulsed with very heavy loss. This much you know; and for myself, General Williams’ brigade was in the advance of one of the attacking columns, was under fire about four hours, during the whole of which time the danger of his men was fully shared by the General and his staff. I would not have missed it for anything. I had never been really under fire before and the sensation was glorious. There we were, mounted officers, either standing right before the enemy’s works, while the shells went shrieking and hurtling just over our heads and sometimes broke close to us, or else carrying orders to all parts of the line, feeling that you carried life and death in your hands. I was frightened of course — every one is, except a few who don’t know what danger is; but my fear was not what I had imagined it might be. . . . In a word I don’t care if I’m never in action again, and I would rather not run its risk, though I should like once to join in the shouts of victory; but I would not for anything have lost the experience of yesterday and, without affectation, it was one of the most enjoyable days I ever passed.

---In session, the House of Representatives vote on a form of what will become the Second Confiscation Act, one more step toward universal emancipation, but one that comes as a military measure and not as social revolution:

    That all right and title of every person comprehended by this act, in and to the service of labor of any other person is hereby forfeited, and such persons held to labor, commonly called slaves, are hereby declared forever discharged; first if they are owned by any officer of the rebel army, any officer of the rebel government, or by any person who engages in rebellious acts against the Government of the United States. . . .

But, still possessed by the idea that colonization is the best solution for the race problem, Congress further states,

    That the President is authorized to negotiate for the acquisition by treaty or otherwise, for lands or countries in Mexico, South America, or in the islands of the gulf, for the right of settlement upon the lands of the persons freed by this Act.

    The yeas and nays were ordered. The question on the passage of the bill was taken and it was decided in the affirmative: yeas 82, nays 54. So the substitute was agreed to and the Bill was passed.

President Lincoln, ironically, opposes this legislation, believing that it will exacerbate pro-secessionist sentiments in the border states.  Indeed, the responses from border state legislators is vehement and rancorous.

---Katherine Prescott Wormeley, a nurse with the U.S. Sanitary Commission, at a hospital near the front on the Peninsula, writes home:

Our sick men were still with us, for Mr. Olmsted could neither get permission to put them on the “Elm City,” nor induce the surgeon of the Shore hospital to send his ambulances for them. Expecting every hour to move them, we were unable to put them into hospital clothing; and as they were very restless and crazy, this made our work less satisfactory than usual. . . . The painfulness of the day was greatly increased by a visit from a Sunday picnic of Congressmen and ladies. One of the former went to Mr. Olmsted and complained to him of what he saw on our boat. . . . But a few hours later a thing occurred which must have wiped from his mind the sting of reproach from such a quarter. Colonel ——, who was on the “Elm City,” very ill with typhoid fever, was madly anxious to get home. He knew he must die, and he craved to see his wife. The gentlemen of the excursion-party were asked to take him back on their boat. They refused; alleging that they were “a select party,” and “not prepared to incur infection:” they made the ladies the ground of their excuse. So Mrs. Griffin went at midnight to the ladies and begged them to consent to take him; and of course they did so. I could enlarge upon this, but the subject is hateful.

And then Mrs. Wormeley offers further observations about the Commission’s mission, perhaps revealing the Army’s medical disdain for the organization:

. . . indeed, the object of the Commission itself is not sufficiently understood. Those who admire its wise and noble work naturally feel the wish that larger power should be given to it. But the object of the Commission itself is not this. It seeks to bring the Government to do what the Government should do for its sick and wounded. Until that object is accomplished, the Commission stands ready to throw itself into the breach, as it did during that dreadful battle-week, as it does more or less all the time. The thing it asks for is not the gift of power, but that the Government should take the work away from it by doing it thoroughly itself.