Sunday, May 3, 1863

Went to hear Mr. Merwin preach and by invitation we dined at his house.  They have one son Charles who is a student at Marietta College, but now at home & two daughters, Amelia & Sarah, very pleasant girls.  In the afternoon we attended the funeral of Col. Absolem Boyle, an early settler & public spirited citizen of Ames township.


Peggy’s comments:
Rufus Dawes, Julia’s nephew, had begun a correspondence with Miss Mary Gates of Marietta.  In late April, Rufus, who was serving with the Sixth Wisconsin in the Army of the Potomac, knew that his regiment would soon be engaged in another battle.  He prepared a packet of the few letters Mary had sent him, put them in an envelope to be returned to her in the event he was killed in battle.  He enclosed a note to her and gave the envelope to his friend, Dr. Preston, to mail if he was killed.   On April 28, Rufus and the Sixth Wisconsin was ordered to cross the Rappahannock to protect the laying of pontoons.  Shortly thereafter, he wrote to his sister to describe the action:

Dear Luce,

At nine o’clock Gen. Reynolds sent down orders that the 6^th Wis. and the 24^th Mich. must cross and carry the pits.  Such a feeling of horror as came over us!  To be shot like sheep in a huddle and drown in the Rappahannock was the certain death of all if we failed and of many if we succeeded.  The plan was simple.  Troops moved down along the edge of the river, and batteries planted on the hills back of us to fire at the rebels as hard as they could, while we ran into the boats, rowed them across the river, scrabbled up the bank, and drove Rebs out with the bayonet, or held the ground, if we could, until the boats could bring more troops to help us.

After these dispositions had been made, we moved down over the open field in line of battle, truly the forlorn hope of the Army.  The rebels opened on us and our men along the river, and the batteries returned their fire.

We moved down in line until within two hundred yards of the boats, then by the right of companies to the front, double quick, and into the boats the men plunged down on their faces.  The storm of bullets was perfectly awful.

“Heave her off.”  “Down on her.”  “The first man up on the bank shall be a general.”  “Show the Army why the old Sixth was chosen to lead them.”  It was the fiercest regatta ever run in this country.  It was no time to quail or flinch.  One halt or waver was destruction.  I stood up in the bow of the boat I commanded, swinging my sword in one hand, and cheering on the oarsmen; holding my pistol in the other to shoot them if they wavered or flinched.  

Across the river we tumbled into the mud or water waist deep, waded ashore, crawled or scrambled up the bank.  Crack, crack, for two minutes and the rebels were running like sheep over the field or throwing down their arms as prisoners. I took the flag and swung it as a signal of our victory, and such a shout of triumph as went up from ten thousand anxious spectators on the north bank it was good to hear.