Chapter 15: The Old Flag Waves Over Sumter

By this time, Mr. Coffin was himself nearly exhausted, having been worn down by constant service, day and night, in one of the most exhausting campaigns on record. Knowing that both armies would have to throw up entrenchments and recuperate, he came home, according to custom, to rest and freshen for renewed exertion. Leaving immediately after the battle of Cold Harbor, that is, on June 7th, he was back again in Washington on June 22d, and in Petersburg, June 26th. The lines of offence and defence were now twenty miles long, and the great battle of Petersburg, which was to last many months, the war of shovel and spade, had begun. Mr. Coffin remained with the army, often riding to City Point and along the whole front of the Union lines, reading the news of the sinking of the Alabama by the Kearsarge, and the call of the President for a half million of men, seeing many of the minor contests, the picket firing, the artillery duels, and learning of the splendid valor of the black troops.

He came to Washington and Baltimore, when the news of Early’s raid up the Shenandoah Valley was magnified into an invasion of Maryland by General Lee, with sixty thousand men behind them. Carleton, however, was not one to catch the disease of fear through infectious excitement. Finding Grant, the commander-in-chief of all the armies in the field walking alone, quietly and unostentatiously, with his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, and smoking a cigar, neither excited nor disturbed, Carleton felt sure that the raid had been anticipated and was well provided for. Both then, as well as on July 18th, when he had to argue with friends who wore metaphorically blue glasses, he wrote cheerfully and convincingly of his calm, deliberate judgment, that the prospects of crushing the rebellion were never so bright as at that moment. He concluded his letter thus, “Give Grant the troops he needs now, and this gigantic struggle will speedily come to an end.”

While Lee, disappointed in the results of Early’s menace of Washington, was summoning all his resources to resist the long siege, and while Grant was awaiting his reinforcements and preparing the cordon, which, like a perfect machine, should at the right moment be set in motion to grind in pieces the armies of rebellion, Carleton was chosen by the people of Boston to accompany their gift of food which they wished to send to Savannah, to relieve the needy. Between Tuesday and Thursday of one week, thirty thousand dollars were contributed. The steamer Greyhound a captured blockade-runner, was chartered. Taking in her hold one-half of the provisions, she left Boston Harbor at 3 o’clock on Saturday afternoon, January 23, 1865. With the committee of relief, Carleton arrived in Savannah in time to ride out and meet the army of Sherman. After attending meetings of the citizens, seeing to the distribution of supplies, and writing a number of letters, he now scanned all horizons, feeling rather than seeing the signs of supreme activity. Whither should he go?