May 26

May 26, 1864

Thursday. Nothing happened to-day worth telling of. I am detailed for picket duty to-morrow.

We were ordered on picket last night; no appearance of any enemy in our front; men enjoying the novelty of foraging greatly; rained hard about an hour this morning and has been cloudy and gloomy all day; has been quiet most of the time along the line, too; not much going on save the countermarching of troops; possibly General Grant is covering another flank movement; enemy seem to be in force on the south side of Little river.

May Twenty-Sixth

Cease firing! There are here no foes to fight!
Grim war is o'er and smiling peace now reigns;
Cease useless strife—no matter who was right—
True magnanimity from hate abstains.
Cease firing!
Major William Meade Pegram

 

The last Confederate army, under General Kirby Smith, surrenders at Baton Rouge, 1865

 

 

Wednesday, May 26th.—No time to write yesterday; had a typical Clearing Hospital Field Day. The left-out-in-the-field wounded (mostly Canadians) had at last been picked up and came pouring in. I had my Tent Section of eighty beds nearly full, and we coped in a broiling sun till we sweltered into little spots of grease, finishing up with five operations in the little operating tent.

The poor exhausted Canadians were extraordinarily brave and uncomplaining. They are evacuated the same day or the next morning, such as can be got away to survive the journey, but some of the worst have to stay.

In the middle of it all at 5 p.m. orders came for me to join No.— Ambulance Train for duty, but I didn't leave till this morning at nine, and am now on No.— A.T. on way down to old Boulogne again.

Later.—These orders were afterwards cancelled, and I am for duty at a Base Hospital.

Pooree, May 26, 1844

How little is known in England of what a thunderstorm is! At this minute (about ten o'clock in the evening) the rain is pouring down in vast sheets of water rather than in drops. For the last two hours the lightning has not ceased for a minute at a time, whilst the thunder has continued incessantly, varied occasionally by a tremendous crash which bursts immediately above the house and shakes it to its very foundation. Add to this the roaring of the sea and the howling of the wind, and some idea may be formed of the fearful noise now sounding in my ears. But the storm is, in one respect, more fearful here than elsewhere; at this station most of the European houses are blown down once in two or three years—a process which is anything but comfortable to the inhabitants, who are compelled to shiver through the night on the bleak sands, drenched with spray and rain, half covered with loose sand, and afraid to stand lest they should be blown away.

36. John Adams

Philadelphia, 26 May, 1775.

I embrace an opportunity by two young gentlemen from Maryland to write you a line, on friend Mifflin's table. The names of these gentlemen are Hall. They are of one of the best families in Maryland, and have independent fortunes—one a lawyer, the other a physician. If you have an opportunity, I beg you would show to these gentlemen all the civilities possible. Get them introduced to your uncle Quincy, and to your father and Dr. Tufts, and let everything be done to show them respect. They come five hundred miles to fight for you. They are volunteers to our camp, where they intend to spend the season.

My love and duty where they should be. I have not so good health as I had before, and I have harder service. Our business is more extensive and complicated, more affecting and hazardous. But our unanimity will not be less. We have a number of new and very ingenious members.