The Photographic History of The Civil War: in ten volumes, Thousands of Scenes Photographed 1861-65, with Text by many Special Authorities, Volume 8: Soldier Life and Secret Service.
Francis Trevelyan Miller, Ed.

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The Signal Corps

A. W. Greely, Major-General, United States Army

No other arm of the military services during the Civil War excited a tithe of the curiosity and interest which surrounded the Signal Corps. To the onlooker, the messages of its waving flags, its winking lights and its rushing rockets were always mystic in their language, while their tenor was often fraught with thrilling import and productive of far-reaching effects.

The signal system, an American device, was tested first in border warfare against hostile Navajos; afterward the quick-witted soldiers of both the Federal and Confederate armies developed portable signaling to great advantage. The invention of a non-combatant, Surgeon A. J. Myer, it met with indifferent reception and evoked hostility in its early stages. When the stern actualities of war were realized, its evolution proceeded in the Federal army in face of corporation and departmental opposition, yet despite all adverse attacks it ultimately demonstrated its intrinsic merits. Denied a separate organization until the war neared its end, the corps suffered constantly from strife and dissension in Washington, its misfortunes culminating in the arbitrary removal of its first two chiefs. Thus its very existence was threatened. Nevertheless, the gallant, efficient services of its patriotic men and officers in the face of the foe were of such striking military value as to gain the confidence and win the commendation of the most distinguished generals.

Major Myer began work in 1861, at Georgetown, District of Columbia, with small details from the volunteers, though the [313]

Confederate signalmen in 1861 The Confederate signal service was first in the field. Beauregard's report acknowledges the aid rendered his army at Bull Run by Captain (afterwards General) E. P. Alexander, a former pupil of Major A. J. Myer. McDowell was then without signalmen, and so could not communicate regularly with Washington. While Major Myer was establishing a Federal signal training-school at Red Hill, such towers were rising along the already beleaguered Confederate coast. This one at Charleston, South Carolina, is swarming with young Confederate volunteers gazing out to sea in anticipation of the advent of the foe. They had not long to wait. During nearly four years the Union fleet locked them in their harbor. For all that time Fort Sumter and its neighbors defied the Union power.

[314] corps eventually numbered about three hundred officers and twenty-five hundred men. Authorized as a separate corps by the act of Congress, approved March 3, 1863, its organization was not completed until August, 1864. The outcome was an embodiment of the army aphorism that ‘one campaign in Washington is worth two in the field.’ More than two thousand signalmen served at the front, of whom only nine were commissioned in the new corps, while seventeen were appointed from civil life. As a result of degradation in rank, eleven detailed officers declined commissions or resigned after acceptance. Colonel Myer, the inventor and organizer of the service, had his commission vacated in July, 1864, and his successor, Colonel Nicodemus, was summarily dismissed six months later, the command then devolving on Colonel B. F. Fisher, who was never confirmed by the Senate. That a corps so harassed should constantly distinguish itself in the field is one of the many marvels of patriotism displayed by the American soldier.

Signal messages were sent by means of flags, torches, or lights, by combinations of three separate motions. The flag (or torch) was initially held upright: ‘ one ’ was indicated by waving the flag to the left and returning it from the ground to the upright position; ‘ two ’ by a similar motion to the right, and ‘ three ’ by a wave (or dip) to the front. Where a letter was composed of several figures, the motions were made in rapid succession without any pause. Letters were separated by a very brief pause, and words or sentences were distinguished by one or more dip motions to the front.

Signal alphabet, as used late in the war.

A—11	G—1122	M—2112	S—121	Y— 222
B—1221	H— 211	N— 22	T— 1	Z—1111
C— 212	I— 2	O— 12	U— 221	&—2222
D— 111	J—2211	P—2121	V—2111	tion—2221
E— 21	K—1212	Q—2122	W—2212	ing—1121
F—1112	L— 112	R— 122	X—1211	ed—1222

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General Morell's lockout toward the Confederate lines—1861 When General McClellan was rapidly organizing his army from the mass of troops, distinguished only by regimental numerals, into brigades, divisions, and corps, in the fall and winter of 1861, General George W. Morell was placed in command of the first brigade of the Army of the Potomac and stationed at the extreme front of Minor's Hill, Virginia, just south of Washington. The city was distraught with apprehension, and the lookout, or tower, in the foreground was erected especially for the purpose of observations toward the Confederate lines, then in the direction of Manassas. At the particular moment when this picture was taken, the lookout has undoubtedly shouted some observation to General Morell, who stands with his finger pointing toward the south, the Confederate position. That the army has not yet advanced is made evident by the fact that a lady is present, dressed in the fashion of the day.

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When using Coston signals there were more than twenty combinations of colored lights which permitted an extended system of prearranged signals. White rockets (or bombs)= one; red=two, and green=three. White flags with a square red center were most frequently employed for signaling purposes, though when snow was on the ground a black flag was used, and with varying backgrounds the red flag with a white center could be seen at greater distances than the white.

To secure secrecy all important messages were enciphered by means of a cipher disk. Two concentric disks, of unequal size and revolving on a central pivot, were divided along their outer edges into thirty equal compartments. The inner and smaller disk contained in its compartments letters, terminations, and word-pauses, while the outer, larger disk contained [317]

[318] groups of signal numbers to be sent. Sometimes this arrangement was changed and letters were on the outer disks and the numbers on the inner. By the use of prearranged keys, and through their frequent interchange, the secrecy of messages thus enciphered was almost absolutely ensured.

In every important campaign and on every bloody ground, the red flags of the Signal Corps flaunted defiantly at the forefront, speeding stirring orders of advance, conveying warnings of impending danger, and sending sullen suggestions of defeat. They were seen on the advanced lines of Yorktown, Petersburg, and Richmond, in the saps and trenches at Charleston, Vicksburg, and Port Hudson, at the fierce battles of Chickamauga and Chancellorsville, before the fort-crowned crest of Fredericksburg, amid the frightful carnage of Antietam, on Kenesaw Mountain deciding the fate of Allatoona, in Sherman's march to the sea, and with Grant's victorious army at Appomattox and Richmond. They spoke silently to Du Pont along the dunes and sounds of the Carolinas, sent word to Porter clearing the central Mississippi River, and aided Farragut when forcing the passage of Mobile Bay.

Did a non-combatant corps ever before suffer such disproportionate casualties—killed, wounded, and captured? Sense of duty, necessity of exposure to fire, and importance of mission were conditions incompatible with personal safety—and the Signal Corps paid the price. While many found their fate in Confederate prisons, the extreme danger of signal work, when conjoined with stubborn adherence to outposts of duty, is forcefully evidenced by the fact that the killed of the Signal Corps were one hundred and fifty per cent. of the wounded, as against the usual ratio of twenty per cent.

The Confederates were first in the field, for Beauregard's report acknowledges the aid rendered his army at Bull Run by Captain E. P. Alexander, a former pupil of Myer. Mc-Dowell was then without signalmen, and so could neither communicate regularly with Washington nor receive word of the [319]

October, 1862—where the Confederate invasion of Maryland was discovered The signal officer is on outlook duty near the Point of Rocks station, in Maryland. This station was opened and operated by First-Lieutenant John H. Fralick for purposes of observation. It completely dominated Pleasant Valley. On the twelfth of the month Fralick had detected and reported General J. E. B. Stuart's raiding cavalry crossing the Potomac on their way back from Maryland and Pennsylvania. The Confederate cavalry leader had crossed the Potomac at Williamsport on the 10th of October, ridden completely around the rear of the Army of the Potomac, and eluded the vigorous pursuit of General Pleasonton and his Union cavalry. Within twenty hours he had marched sixty-five miles and kept up his artillery. Lieutenant-Colonel Edwin R. Biles, with the Ninety-ninth Pennsylvania, opposed Stuart's crossing at Monocacy Ford, but was unable to detain him. This was one of the combination of events which finally cost McClellan the command of the Army of the Potomac. Lee's invasion of Maryland in 1862 would have been a complete surprise, except for the watchful vigilance of Lieutenant Miner of the Signal Corps, who occupied Sugar Loaf, the highest point in Maryland. From this lofty station were visible the more important fords of the Potomac, with their approaches on both sides of the river. Miner detected the Confederate advance-guard, then the wagon-train movements, and finally the objective points of their march. Although unprotected, he held his station to the last and was finally captured by the Southern troops.

[320] [322] vitally important despatch from Patterson at Harper's Ferry telling of Johnston's departure to reenforce Beauregard at Manassas, which should have obviated the battle. Major Myer was quick, however, to establish a signal training-school at Red Hill, Georgetown, District of Columbia.

In view of modern knowledge and practice, it seems almost incredible to note that the Secretary of War disapproved, in 1861, the recommendation made by Major Myer, signal officer of the army, for an appropriation for field-telegraph lines. While efforts to obtain, operate, and improve such lines were measurably successful on the part of the army, they were strenuously opposed by the civilian telegraph corporations so potent at the War Department.

Active protests proved unavailing and injurious. Colonel Myer's circular, in 1863, describing the systematic attempts of the civilian organization to deprive the Signal Corps of such lines ‘ as an interference with a part of the Signal Corps' legitimate duties,’ caused him to be placed on waiting orders, while all field-trains were ordered to be turned over to the civilian force. It may be added that both organizations in the field cooperated with a degree of harmony and good-fellowship that was often lacking in Washington.

Skilled parties were thus available for the Peninsula campaign of 1862, where McClellan utilized them, strictly army work being supplemented by placing signal officers with the navy, and thus ensuring that cooperation vitally essential to success. Not only was military information efficiently collected and distributed, but at critical junctures McClellan was able to control the fire-direction of both the field-artillery of the army and the heavy guns of the navy.

At Yorktown, coigns of vantage were occupied in high trees and on lofty towers, whence messages were sent to and fro, especially those containing information of the position and movements of the foe, which were discerned by high-power telescopes—an important duty not always known or [323]

[324] appreciated. Often their work drew the Confederate artillery and sharpshooters' fire, of unpleasant accuracy. The saving of Franklin's command at West Point, after the evacuation of Yorktown, was in large part due to the efficiency of the Signal Corps.

Valuable as was the work before Richmond, under fire, in reconnoitering and in cooperation with the military telegraph service, it proved to be indispensable to the success of Mc-Clellan in changing his base from York River to James River —its importance culminating at Malvern Hill. It will be recalled that the Seven Days Battles ended with the bloody struggle on the banks of the James, where the use of the Signal Corps enabled McClellan to transform impending defeat into successful defense. When the vigorous Confederate attack at Malvern Hill threatened the flank of the army, McClellan was aboard the United States steamship Galena, whose army signal officer informed him of the situation through messages flagged from the army. McClellan was thus enabled not only to give general orders to the army then in action, but also to direct the fire of the fleet, which had moved up the James for cooperation, most efficiently.

Lee's invasion of Maryland in 1862 would have been a complete surprise, except for the watchful vigilance of an officer of the Signal Corps, Lieutenant Miner, who occupied Sugar Loaf, the highest point in Maryland. From this lofty station were visible the more important fords of the Potomac, with their approaches on both sides of the river. Miner detected the Confederate advance guard, the train movements, and noted the objective points of their march. Notifying Washington of the invasion, although unprotected he held his station to the last and was finally captured by the Southern troops. The reoccupancy of Sugar Loaf a week later enabled McClellan to establish a network of stations, whose activities contributed to the victory of South Mountain.

As Elk Mountain dominated the valley of the Antietam, [325]

[326] it was occupied only to find that the dense woods on its summit cut off all view. However, energetic action soon cleared a vista, known to the soldiers as ‘McClellan's Gap,’ through which systematic telescopic search revealed all extended movements of the foe. The busy ax furnished material for a rude log structure, from the summit of which messages of great importance, on which were based the general disposition of the Federal troops, were sent.

At Fredericksburg flag-work and telescopic reconnoitering were supplemented by the establishment of a fieldtele-graph line connecting army headquarters with Franklin's Grand Division on the extreme left. The flag station at headquarters kept Burnside in constant touch with the Federal attacking force on the right, under Couch and Hooker, through their signalmen in the court-house steeple. One station near a field-hospital was under a fire, which killed about twenty men and wounded many others near by, until the surgeons asked suspension of flagging to save the lives of the wounded.

A most important part of the Signal Corps' duty was the interception and translation of messages interchanged between the Confederate signalmen. Perhaps the most notable of such achievements occurred in the Shenandoah valley, in 1864. On Massanutten, or Three Top Mountain, was a signal station which kept Early in touch with Lee's army to the southeastward, near Richmond, and which the Federals had under close watch. Late in the evening of October 15th, a keen-eyed lieutenant noted that ‘ Three Top ’ was swinging his signal torch with an unwonted persistency that betokened a message of urgency. The time seemed interminable to the Union officer until the message began, which he read with suppressed excitement as follows: ‘To Lieutenant-General Early. Be ready to move as soon as my forces join you, and we will crush Sheridan. Longstreet, Lieutenant-General.’

Sheridan was then at Front Royal, en route to Washington. The message was handed to General Wright, in [327]

[328] temporary command, at once, and was forwarded by him to Sheridan at midnight. The importance of this information is apparent, yet Early took the Union army completely by surprise three days later, at daybreak of October 19th, although the tide of morning defeat was turned to evening victory under the inspiration of Sheridan's matchless personality.

In the battles at Gettysburg the Confederates established their chief signal station in the cupola of the Lutheran seminary, which commanded an extended field of operations. The Union Signal Corps was extremely active in gathering information and transmitting orders, and for perhaps the first time in military history the commanding general of a large army was kept in communication during active operations with his corps and division commanders.

The most important Union signal station, on the second day of this titanic struggle, was at Little Round Top on the Federal left flank, which commanded a view of the country occupied by the right of Lee's army. Heavy was the price paid for flag-work at this point, where the men were exposed to the fierce shrapnel of artillery and the deadly bullet of Confederate sharpshooters in Devil's Den. On or beside this signal station, on a bare rock about ten feet square, seven men were killed or seriously wounded. With rash gallantry, Captain James A. Hall held his ground, and on July 2d, at the most critical phase of the struggle signaled to Meade's headquarters, ‘A heavy column of enemy's infantry, about ten thousand, is moving from opposite our extreme left toward our right.’

General Warren had hastened by Meade's order to Little Round Top to investigate. He says: ‘ There were no troops on it [Little Round Top] and it was used as a signal station. I saw that this was the key of the whole position, and that our troops in the woods in front of it could not see the ground in front of them, so that the enemy could come upon them unawares.’ A shot was fired into these woods by Warren's [329]

Signaling orders from General Meade's headquarters, just before the Wilderness In April, 1864, General Meade's headquarters lay north of the Rapidan. The Signal Corps was kept busy transmitting the orders preliminary to the Wilderness campaign, which was to begin May 5th. The headquarters are below the brow of the hill. A most important part of the Signal Corps' duty was the interception and translation of messages interchanged between the Confederate signal-men. A veteran of Sheridan's army tells of his impressions as follows: ‘On the evening of the 18th of October, 1864, the soldiers of Sheridan's army lay in their lines at Cedar Creek. Our attention was suddenly directed to the ridge of Massanutten, or Three Top Mountain, the slope of which covered the left wing of the army—the Eighth Corps. A lively series of signals was being flashed out from the peak, and it was evident that messages were being sent both eastward and westward of the ridge. I can recall now the feeling with which we looked up at those flashes going over our heads, knowing that they must be Confederate messages. It was only later that we learned that a keen-eyed Union officer had been able to read the message: “To Lieutenant-General Early. Be ready to move as soon as my forces join you, and we will crush Sheridan. Longstreet, Lieutenant-General.” The sturdiness of Sheridan's veterans and the fresh spirit put into the hearts of the men by the return of Sheridan himself from “Winchester, twenty miles away,” a ride rendered immortal by Read's poem, proved too much at last for the pluck and persistency of Early's worn-out troops.’

[330] orders. He continues: ‘ This motion revealed to me the enemy's line of battle, already formed and far outflanking our troops. . . . The discovery was intensely thrilling and almost appalling.’ After narrating how he asked Meade for troops, Warren continues, ‘While I was still alone with the signal officer, the musket balls began to fly around us, and he was about to fold up his flags and withdraw, but remained, at my request, and kept them waving in defiance.’ This action saved the day for the Federals, as Warren declares.

The system around Vicksburg was such as to keep Grant fully informed of the efforts of the Confederates to disturb his communications in the rear, and also ensured the fullest cooperation between the Mississippi flotilla and his army. Judicious in praise, Grant's commendation of his signal officer speaks best for the service. Messages were constantly exchanged with the fleet, the final one of the siege being flagged as follows on the morning of July 4th: ‘ 4.30 A. M. 4: 1863. Admiral Porter: The enemy has accepted in the main my terms of capitulation and will surrender the city, works and garrison at 10 A. M. . . . U. S. Grant, Major-General, Commanding.’

The fleets of Farragut and Porter, while keeping the Mississippi open, carried signal officers to enable them to communicate with the army, their high masts and lofty trees enabling signals to be exchanged great distances. Doubtless the loftiest perch thus used during the war was that on the United States steamship Richmond, one of Farragut's fleet at Port Hudson. The Richmond was completely disabled by the central Confederate batteries while attempting to run past Port Hudson, her signal officer, working, meanwhile, in the maintop. As the running of the batteries was thus found to be too dangerous, the vessel dropped back and the signal officer suggested that he occupy the very tip of the highest mast for his working perch, which was fitted up, one hundred and sixty feet above the water. From this great height it was barely possible to signal over the highland occupied by the foe, and thus maintain [331]

‘Crow's nest’—signal tower to the right of Bermuda hundred	At headquarters of 14th N. Y. Heavy artillery near Petersburg
The Peeble's farm signal tower near Petersburg	The signal tower near point of rocks

[332] uninterrupted communication and essential cooperation between the fleets of the central and lower Mississippi.

The most dramatic use of the Signal Corps was connected with the successful defense of Allatoona, Sherman's reserve depot in which were stored three millions of rations, practically undefended, as it was a distance in the rear of the army. Realizing the utmost importance of the railroad north of Marietta and of the supplies to Sherman, Hood threw Stewart's corps in the rear of the Union army, and French's division of about sixty-five hundred men was detached to capture Allatoona. With the Confederates intervening and telegraph lines destroyed, all would have been lost but for the Signal Corps station on Kenesaw Mountain. Corse was at Rome, thirty-six miles beyond Allatoona. From Vining's Station, the message was flagged over the heads of the foe to Allatoona by way of Kenesaw, and thence telegraphed to Corse, as follows: ‘ General Corse: Sherman directs that you move forward and join Smith's division with your entire command, using cars if to be had, and burn provisions rather than lose them. General Vandever.’ At the same time a message was sent to Allatoona: Sherman is moving with force. Hold out.‘ And again: Hold on. General Sherman says he is working hard for you.’

Sherman was at Kenesaw all day, October 5th, having learned of the arrival of Corse that morning, and anxiously watched the progress of the battle. That afternoon came a despatch from Allatoona, sent during the engagement: ‘ We are all right so far. General Corse is wounded.’ Next morning Dayton, Sherman's assistant adjutant-general, asked how Corse was and he answered, ‘ I am short a cheekbone and one ear, but am able to whip all h—l yet.’ That the fight was desperate is shown by Corse's losses, seven hundred and five killed and wounded, and two hundred captured, out of an effective force of about fifteen hundred.

An unusual application of signal stores was made at the [333]

Colonel Benjamin F. Fisher and his assistants at Signal Corps headquarters, Washington Although authorized as a separate corps by the Act of Congress approved March 3, 1863, the Signal Corps did not complete its organization until August, 1864. More than two thousand signal-men served at the front, of whom only nine were commissioned in the new corps, while seventeen officers were appointed from civil life. Colonel A. J. Myer, the inventor and organizer of the service, had his commission vacated in July, 1864. On December 26th of that year Colonel Benjamin F. Fisher was placed in command of the Signal Corps, but his appointment was never confirmed by the Senate. Note the curious wording of the sign by tile door: ‘Office of the Signal Officer of the Army,’ as if there were but one. That a corps so harassed should constantly distinguish itself in the field is one of the many marvels of American patriotism.

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Signaling from Fort McAllister, Georgia—the end of the march to the sea General Sherman's flag message with Hazen's soldierly answer upon their arrival at Savannah, December 13, 1864, has become historic. Sherman's message was an order for Hazen's Division of the Fifteenth Army Corps to make an assault upon the fort. Hazen's terse answer was: ‘I am ready and will assault at once.’ The Fort was carried at the first rush. A flag station was immediately established on the parapet. It wigwagged to Dahlgren's expectant fleet the news that Sherman had completed the famous march to the sea with his army in excellent condition. Only a week later General Hardee evacuated Savannah with his troops.

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How Sherman was welcomed upon his arrival at the sea This photograph shows a party of Admiral John A. Dahlgren's signal-men on board ship receiving a message from the Georgia shore. The two flagmen are standing at attention, ready to send Dahlgren's answering message, and the officer with the telescope is prepared to read the signals from the shore. Thus Sherman's message from the parapet of Fort McAllister was read. Commander C. P. R. Rodgers and Admiral Dupont had been prompt to recognize the value of the Army Signal Corps system and to introduce it in the navy. This concert between the North's gigantic armies on shore and her powerful South Atlantic fleet was bound to crush the Confederacy sooner or later. Without food for her decimated armies she could not last.

[336] siege of Knoxville, when Longstreet attacked at dawn. Sending up a signal by Roman candles to indicate the point of attack, the signal officer followed it by discharging the candles toward the advancing Confederates, which not only disconcerted some of them, but made visible the approaching lines and made possible more accurate fire on the part of the Union artillery.

While at Missionary Ridge, the following message was flagged at a critical point: ‘ Sherman: Thomas has carried the hill and lot in his immediate front. Now is your time to attack with vigor. Do so. Grant.’ Other signal work of value intervened between Missionary Ridge and Allatoona, so that the Signal Corps was placed even more to the front in the Atlanta campaign and during the march to the sea.

The Confederates had changed their cipher key, but Sherman's indefatigable officers ascertained the new key from intercepted messages, thus giving the general much important information.

Several stations for observation were established in high trees, some more than a hundred feet from the ground, from which were noted the movements of the various commands, of wagon trains, and railroad cars. Hood's gallant sortie from Atlanta was detected at its very start, and despite the severity of the fight, during which one flagman was killed, messages were sent throughout the battle—even over the heads of the foe.

Of importance, though devoid of danger, among the final messages on arrival at Savannah was one ordering, by flag, the immediate assault on Fort McAllister by Hazen, with the soldierly answer, ‘I am ready and will assault at once,’ and the other announcing to the expectant fleet that Sherman had completed the famous march to the sea with his army in excellent condition.

In the approaches and siege of Petersburg, the work of the Signal Corps was almost entirely telescopic reconnoitering. [337]

[338] While an occasional high tree was used for a perch, yet the country was so heavily timbered that signal towers were necessary. There were nearly a dozen lines of communication and a hundred separate stations. The most notable towers were Cobb's Hill, one hundred and twenty-five feet; Crow's Nest, one hundred and twenty-six feet, and Peebles Farm, one hundred and forty-five feet, which commanded views of Petersburg, its approaches, railways, the camps and fortifications. Cobb's Hill, on the Appomattox, was particularly irritating and caused the construction of an advance Confederate earthwork a mile distant, from which fully two hundred and fifty shot and shell were fired against the tower in a single—day with slight damage, however. Similar futile efforts were made to destroy Crow's Nest.

At General Meade's headquarters a signal party had a unique experience—fortunately not fatal though thrilling in the extreme. A signal platform was built in a tree where, from a height of seventy-five feet the Confederate right flank position could be seen far to the rear. Whenever important movements were in progress this station naturally drew a heavy fire, to prevent signal work. As the men were charged to hold fast at all hazards, descending only after two successive shots at them, they became accustomed in time to sharpshooting, but the shriek of shell was more nerve-racking. On one occasion several shots whistled harmlessly by, and then came a violent shock which nearly dislodged platform, men, and instruments. A solid shot, partly spent, striking fairly, had buried itself in the tree half-way between the platform and the ground.

When Petersburg fell, field flag-work began again, and the first Union messages from Richmond were sent from the roof of the Confederate Capitol. In the field the final order of importance flagged by the corps was as follows: ‘ Farmville, April 7, 1865. General Meade: Order Fifth Corps to follow the Twenty-fourth at 6 A. M. up the Lynchburg road. [339]

[340] The Second and Sixth to follow the enemy north of the river. U. S. Grant, Lieutenant-General.’

It must not be inferred that all distinguished signal work was confined to the Union army, for the Confederates were first in the field, and ever after held their own. Captain (afterward General) E. P. Alexander, a former pupil in the Union army under Myer, was the first signal officer of an army, that of Northern Virginia. He greatly distinguished himself in the first battle of Bull Run, where he worked for several hours under fire, communicating to his commanding general the movements of opposing forces, for which he was highly commended. At a critical moment he detected a hostile advance, and saved a Confederate division from being flanked by a signal message, ‘ Look out for your left. Your position is turned.’

Alexander's assignment as chief of artillery left the corps under Captain (later Colonel) William Norris. Attached to the Adjutant-General's Department, under the act of April 19, 1862, the corps consisted of one major, ten each of captains, first and second lieutenants, and twenty sergeants, the field-force being supplemented by details from the line of the army. Signaling, telegraphy, and secret-service work were all done by the corps, which proved to be a potent factor in the efficient operations of the various armies.

It was at Island No.10; it was active with Early in the Valley; it was with Kirby Smith in the Trans-Mississippi, and aided Sidney Johnston at Shiloh. It kept pace with wondrous ‘ Stonewall’ Jackson in the Valley, withdrew defiantly with Johnston toward Atlanta, and followed impetuous Hood in the Nashville campaign. It served ably in the trenches of beleaguered Vicksburg, and clung fast to the dismantled battlements of Fort Sumter. Jackson clamored for it until Lee gave a corps to him, Jackson saying, ‘The enemy's signals give him a great advantage over me.’

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Telegraphing for the armies

A. W. Greely, Major-General, United States Army

The telegraph. No orders ever had to be given to establish the telegraph. ‘Thus wrote General Grant in his Memoirs.’ The moment troops were in position to go into camp, the men would put up their wires. Grant pays a glowing tribute to ‘the organization and discipline of this body of brave and intelligent men.’

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[The Editors express their grateful acknowledgment to David Homer Bates, of the United States Military-Telegraph Corps, manager of the War Department Telegraph Office and cipher-operator, 1861-1866, and author of ‘Lincoln in the Telegraph Office,’ etc., for valued personal assistance in the preparation of the photographic descriptions, and for many of the incidents described in the following pages, which are recorded in fuller detail in his book.] the exigencies and experiences of the Civil War demonstrated, among other theorems, the vast utility and indispensable importance of the electric telegraph, both as an administrative agent and as a tactical factor in military operations. In addition to the utilization of existing commercial systems, there were built and operated more than fifteen thousand miles of lines for military purposes only.

Serving under the anomalous status of quartermaster's employees, often under conditions of personal danger, and with no definite official standing, the operators of the military-telegraph service performed work of most vital import to the army in particular and to the country in general. They fully merited the gratitude of the Nation for their efficiency, fidelity, and patriotism, yet their services have never been practically recognized by the Government or appreciated by the people.

For instance, during the war there occurred in the line of duty more than three hundred casualties among the operators —from disease, death in battle, wounds, or capture. Scores of these unfortunate victims left families dependent upon charity, as the United States neither extended aid to their destitute families nor admitted needy survivors to a pensionable status. [343]

At the telegraphers' tent, Yorktown—May, 1862 These operators with their friends at dinner look quite contented, with their coffee in tin cups, their hard-tack and the bountiful appearing kettle at their feet. Yet their lot, as McClellan's army advanced toward Richmond and later, was to be far from enviable. ‘The telegraph service, writes General A. W. Greely, had neither definite personnel nor corps organization. It was simply a civilian bureau attached to the quartermatster's department, in which a few of its favored members received Commissions. The men who performed the dangerous work in the field were mere employees—mostly underpaid and often treated with scant considertion. During the war there occurred. in the line of duty more thin three hundred casualties among the operators—by disease, killed in battle, wounded, or made prisoners. Scores of these unfortunate victims left families dependent on charity, for the Government of the United States neither extended aid to their destitute families nor admitted needy survivors to a pensionable status.’

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The telegraph service had neither definite personnel nor corps organization. It was simply a civilian bureau attached to the Quartermaster's Department, in which a few of its favored members received commissions. The men who performed the dangerous work in the field were mere employees—mostly underpaid, and often treated with scant consideration. The inherent defects of such a nondescript organization made it impossible for it to adjust and adapt itself to the varying demands and imperative needs of great and independent armies such as were employed in the Civil War.

Moreover, the chief, Colonel Anson Stager, was stationed in Cleveland, Ohio, while an active subordinate, Major Thomas T. Eckert, was associated with the great war secretary, who held the service in his iron grasp. Not only were its commissioned officers free from other authority than that of the Secretary of War, but operators, engaged in active campaigning thousands of miles from Washington, were independent of the generals under whom they were serving. As will appear later, operators suffered from the natural impatience of military commanders, who resented the abnormal relations which inevitably led to distrust and contention. While such irritations and distrusts were rarely justified, none the less they proved detrimental to the best interests of the United States.

On the one hand, the operators were ordered to report to, and obey only, the corporation representatives who dominated the War Department, while on the other their lot was cast with military associates, who frequently regarded them with a certain contempt or hostility. Thus, the life of the field-operator was hard, indeed, and it is to the lasting credit of the men, as a class, that their intelligence and patriotism were equal to the situation and won final confidence.

Emergent conditions in 1861 caused the seizure of the commercial systems around Washington, and Assistant Secretary of War Thomas A. Scott was made general manager of all such lines. He secured the cooperation of E. S. Sanford, [345]

Telegraphers after Gettysburg The efficient-looking man leaning against the tent-pole in the rear is A. H. Caldwell, chief cipher operator for McClellan, Burnside, Hooker, Meade, and Grant. To him, just at the time this photograph was made, Lincoln addressed the famous despatch sent to Simon Cameron at Gettysburg. After being deciphered by Caldwell and delivered, the message ran: ‘I would give much to be relieved of the impression that Meade, Couch, Smith, and all, since the battle of Gettysburg, have striven only to get the enemy over the river without another fight. Please tell me if you know who was the one corps commander who was for fighting, in the council of war on Sunday night.’ It was customary for cipher messages to be addressed to and signed by the cipher operators. All of the group are mere boys, yet they coolly kept open their telegraph lines, sending important orders, while under fire and amid the utmost confusion.

[346] of the American Telegraph Company, who imposed much-needed restrictions as to cipher messages, information, and so forth on all operators. The scope of the work was much increased by an act of Congress, in 1862, authorizing the seizure of any or all lines, in connection with which Sanford was appointed censor.

Through Andrew Carnegie was obtained the force which opened the War Department Telegraph Office; which speedily attained national importance by its remarkable work, and with which the memory of Abraham Lincoln must be inseparably associated. It was fortunate for the success of the telegraphic policy of the Government that it was entrusted to men of such administrative ability as Colonel Anson Stager, E. S. Sanford, and Major Thomas T. Eckert. The selection of operators for the War Office was surprisingly fortunate, including, as it did, three cipher-operators—D. H. Bates, A. B. Chandler, and C. A. Tinker—of high character, rare skill, and unusual discretion.

The military exigencies brought Sanford as censor and Eckert as assistant general manager, who otherwise performed their difficult duties with great efficiency; it must be added that at times they were inclined to display a striking disregard of proprieties and most unwarrantedly to enlarge the scope of their already extended authority. An interesting instance of the conflict of telegraphic and military authority was shown when Sanford mutilated McClellan's passionate despatch to Stanton, dated Savage's Station, June 29, 1862, in the midst of the Seven Days Battles.¹

Eckert also withheld from President Lincoln the despatch announcing the Federal defeat at Ball's Bluff. The suppression by Eckert of Grant's order for the removal of Thomas [347]

Quarters of telegraphers and photographers at army of the Potomac headquarters, Brandy Station, April, 1864 It was probably lack of military status that caused these pioneer corps in science to bunk together here. The photographers were under the protection of the Secret Service, and the telegraphers performed a similar function in the field of ‘military information’

The telegrapher's bomb-proof before Sumter It is a comfort to contemplate the solidity of the bomb-proof where dwelt this telegraph operator; he carried no insurance for his family such as a regular soldier can look forward to in the possibility of a pension. This photograph was taken in 1863, while General Quincy A. Gillmore was covering the marshes before Charleston with breaching batteries, in the attempt to silence the Confederate forts. These replied with vigor, however, and the telegrapher needed all the protection possible while he kept the general in touch with his forts.

[348] finds support only in the splendid victory of that great soldier at Nashville, and that only under the maxim that the end justifies the means. Eckert's narrow escape from summary dismissal by Stanton shows that, equally with the President and the commanding general, the war secretary was sometimes treated disrespectfully by his own subordinates.

One phase of life in the telegraph-room of the War Department—it is surprising that the White House had no telegraph office during the war—was Lincoln's daily visit thereto, and the long hours spent by him in the cipher-room, whose quiet seclusion made it a favorite retreat both for rest and also for important work requiring undisturbed thought and undivided attention.

There Lincoln turned over with methodical exactness and anxious expectation the office-file of recent messages. There he awaited patiently the translation of ciphers which forecasted promising plans for coming campaigns, told tales of unexpected defeat, recited the story of victorious battles, conveyed impossible demands, or suggested inexpedient policies. Masking anxiety by quaint phrases, impassively accepting criticism, harmonizing conflicting conditions, he patiently pondered over situations—both political and military—swayed in his solutions only by considerations of public good. For in this room were held conferences of vital national interest, with cabinet officers, generals, congressmen, and others. But his greatest task done here was that which required many days, during which was written the original draft of the memorable proclamation of emancipation.

Especially important was the technical work of Bates, Chandler, and Tinker enciphering and deciphering important messages to and from the great contending armies, which was done by code. Stager devised the first cipher, which was so improved by the cipher-operators that it remained untranslatable by the Confederates to the end of the war. An example of the method in general use, given by Plum in his ‘ History of [349]

Telegraph construction corps—stringing wire in the field This corps was composed of about one hundred and fifty men, with an outfit of wagons, tents, pack-mules, and paraphernalia. During the first two years of the war the common wire was used; but when Grant set out in his Wilderness campaign, a flexible insulated wire was substituted. The large wire was wound on reels and placed in wagons, which drove along the route where the line was to be erected. The men followed, putting up the wire as rapidly as it was unreeled. So expert were the linemen that the work seldom became disarranged. The first lines were constructed around Washington and to Alexandria, Virginia, in May. On the Peninsula the next year, the telegraph followed the troops in all directions. During the Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville campaigns it proved an unfailing means of communication between the army and Washington. As it was intended only for temporary use, the poles were not required to be very substantial, and could usually be found in the wooded Virginia country near any proposed route. The immense labor required in such construction led to the adoption of insulated wire, which could be strung very quickly. A coil of the latter was placed on a mule's back and the animal led straight forward without halting. While the wire unreeled, two men followed and hung up the line on the fences and bushes, where it would not be run over. When the telegraph extended through a section unoccupied by Federal forces in strength, cavalry patrols watched it, frequently holding the inhabitants responsible for its safety.

[350] the Military Telegraph,’ is Lincoln's despatch to ex-Secretary Cameron when with Meade south of Gettysburg. As will be seen, messages were addressed to and signed by the cipheroper-ators. The message written out for sending is as follows:

Washington, D. C.	July	15th	18	60	3	for
Sigh	man	Cammer	on	period	I	would
Give	much	to be	relieved	of the	impression	that
Meade	comma	Couch	comma	Smith	and	all
Comma	since	the	battle	of	get	ties
Burg	comma	have	striven	only	to	get
the enemy	over	the river	without	another	fight	period
please	tell	me	if	you	know	who
was	the	one	corps	commander	who	was
for	fighting	comma	in the	council	of	war
on	Sunday	night	signature	A. Lincoln	Bless	him

In the message as sent the first word (blonde) indicated the number of columns and lines in which the message was to be arranged, and the route for reading. Arbitrary words indicated names and persons, and certain blind (or useless) words were added, which can be easily detected. The message was sent as follows:

Brilliant and conspicuous service was rendered by the cipher-operators of the War Department in translating [351]

One of Grant's field-telegraph stations in 1864 This photograph, taken at Wilcox Landing, near City Point, gives an excellent idea of the difficulties under which telegraphing was done at the front or on the march. With a tent-fly for shelter and a hard-tack box for a table, the resourceful operator mounted his ‘relay,’ tested his wire, and brought the commanding general into direct communication with separated brigades or divisions. The U. S. Military Telegraph Corps, through its Superintendent of Construction, Dennis Doren, kept Meade and both wings of his army in communication from the crossing of the Rapidan in May, 1864, till the siege of Petersburg. Over this field-line Grant received daily reports from four separate armies, numbering a quarter of a million men, and replied with daily directions for their operations over an area of seven hundred and fifty thousand square miles. Though every corps of Meade's army moved daily, Doren kept them in touch with headquarters. The field-line was built of seven twisted, rubber-coated wires which were hastily strung on trees or fences.

[352] Confederate cipher messages which fell into Union hands. A notable incident in the field was the translation of General Joseph E. Johnston's cipher message to Pemberton, captured by Grant before Vicksburg and forwarded to Washington. More important were the two cipher despatches from the Secretary of War at Richmond, in December, 1863, which led to a cabinet meeting and culminated in the arrest of Confederate conspirators in New York city, and to the capture of contraband shipments of arms and ammunition. Other intercepted and translated ciphers revealed plans of Confederate agents for raiding Northern towns near the border. Most important of all were the cipher messages disclosing the plot for the wholesale incendiarism of leading hotels in New York, which barely failed of success on November 25, 1864.

Beneficial and desirable as were the civil cooperation and management of the telegraph service in Washington, its forced extension to armies in the field was a mistaken policy. Patterson, in the Valley of Virginia, was five days without word from the War Department, and when he sent a despatch, July 20th, that Johnston had started to reenforce Beauregard with 35,200 men, this vital message was not sent to McDowell with whom touch was kept by a service half-telegraphic and half-courier.

The necessity of efficient field-telegraphs at once impressed military commanders. In the West, Fremont immediately acted, and in August, 1861, ordered the formation of a telegraph battalion of three companies along lines in accord with modern military practice. Major Myer had already made similar suggestions in Washington, without success. While the commercial companies placed their personnel and material freely at the Government's disposal, they viewed with marked disfavor any military organization, and their recommendations were potent with Secretary of War Cameron. Fremont was ordered to disband his battalion, and a purely civil bureau was substituted, though legal authority and funds were equally lack- [353]

A telegraph battery-wagon near Petersburg, June, 1864 The operator in this photograph is receiving a telegraphic message, writing at his little table in the wagon as the machine clicks off the dots and dashes. Each battery-wagon was equipped with such an operator's table and attached instruments. A portable battery of one hundred cells furnished the electric current. No feature of the Army of the Potomac contributed more to its success than the field telegraph. Guided by its young chief, A. H. Caldwell, its lines bound the corps together like a perfect nervous system, and kept the great controlling head in touch with all its parts. Not until Grant cut loose from Washington and started from Brandy Station for Richmond was its full power tested. Two operators and a few orderlies accompanied each wagon, and the army crossed the Rapidan with the telegraph line going up at the rate of two miles an hour. At no time after that did any corps lose direct communication with the commanding general. At Spotsylvania the Second Corps, at sundown, swung round from the extreme right in the rear of the main body to the left. Ewell saw the movement, and advanced toward the exposed position; but the telegraph signaled the danger, and troops on the double-quick covered the gap before the alert Confederate general could assault the Union lines.

[354] ing. Efforts to transfer quartermaster's funds and property to this bureau were successfully resisted, owing to the manifest illegality of such action.

Indirect methods were then adopted, and Stager was commissioned as a captain in the Quartermaster's Department, and his operators given the status of employees. He was appointed general manager of United States telegraph lines, November 25, 1861, and six days later, through some unknown influence, the Secretary of War reported (incorrectly, be it known), ‘that under an appropriation for that purpose at the last session of Congress, a telegraph bureau was established.’ Stager was later made a colonel, Eckert a major, and a few others captains, and so eligible for pensions, but the men in lesser positions remained employees, non-pensionable and subject to draft.

Repeated efforts by petitions and recommendations for giving a military status were made by the men in the field later in the war. The Secretary of War disapproved, saying that such a course would place them under the orders of superior officers, which he was most anxious to avoid.

With corporation influence and corps rivalries so rampant in Washington, there existed a spirit of patriotic solidarity in the face of the foe in the field that ensured hearty cooperation and efficient service. While the operators began with a sense of individual independence that caused them often to resent any control by commanding officers, from which they were free under the secretary's orders, yet their common sense speedily led them to comply with every request from commanders that was not absolutely incompatible with loyalty to their chief.

Especially in the public eye was the work connected with the operations in the armies which covered Washington and attacked Richmond, where McClellan first used the telegraph for tactical purposes. Illustrative of the courage and resourcefulness of operators was the action of Jesse Bunnell, attached to General Porter's headquarters. Finding himself on the fight- [355]

Headquarters field-telegraph party at Petersburg, Virginia, June 22, 1864 A battery-wagon in ‘action’; the operator has opened his office and is working his instrument. Important despatches were sent in cipher which only a chosen few operators could read. The latter were frequently under fire but calmly sat at their instruments, with the shells flying thick about them, and performed their duty with a faithfulness that won them an enviable reputation. At the Petersburg mine fiasco, in the vicinity of where this photograph was taken, an operator sat close at hand with an instrument and kept General Meade informed of the progress of affairs. The triumph of the field telegraph exceeded the most sanguine expectations. From the opening of Grant's campaign in the Wilderness to the close of the war, an aggregate of over two hundred miles of wire was put up and taken down from day to day; yet its efficiency as a constant means of communication between the several commands was not interfered with. The Army of the Potomac was the first great military body to demonstrate the advantages of the field telegraph for conducting military operations. The later campaigns of all civilized nations benefited much by these experiments. The field telegraph was in constant use during the Russian-Japanese War. Wireless stations are now an integral part of the United States army organization.

[356] ing line, with the Federal troops hard pressed, Bunnell, without orders, cut the wire and opened communication with Mc-Clellan's headquarters. Superior Confederate forces were then threatening defeat to the invaders, but this battle-office enabled McClellan to keep in touch with the situation and ensure Porter's position by sending the commands of French, Meagher, and Slocum to his relief. Operator Nichols opened an emergency office at Savage's Station on Sumner's request, maintaining it under fire as long as it was needed.

One of the great feats of the war was the transfer, under the supervision of Thomas A. Scott, of two Federal army corps from Virginia to Tennessee, consequent on the Chickamauga disaster to the Union arms. By this phenomenal transfer, which would have been impossible without the military telegraph, twenty-three thousand soldiers, with provisions and baggage, were transported a distance of 1,233 miles in eleven and a half days, from Bristoe Station, Virginia, to Chattanooga, Tennessee. The troops had completed half their journey before the news of the proposed movement reached Richmond.

While most valuable elsewhere, the military telegraph was absolutely essential to successful operations in the valleys of the Cumberland and of the Tennessee, where very long lines of communication obtained, with consequent great distances between its separate armies. Apart from train-despatching, which was absolutely essential to transporting army supplies for hundreds of thousands of men over a single-track railway of several hundred of miles in length, an enormous number of messages for the control and cooperation of separate armies and detached commands were sent over the wires. Skill and patience were necessary for efficient telegraph work, especially when lines were frequently destroyed by Confederate incursions or through hostile inhabitants of the country.

Of great importance and of intense interest are many of the cipher despatches sent over these lines. Few, however, ex- [357]

Men who worked the wires before Petersburg These photographs of August, 1864, show some of the men who were operating their telegraph instruments in the midst of the cannonading and sharpshooting before Petersburg. Nerve-racking were the sounds and uncomfortably dangerous the situation, yet the operators held their posts. Amidst the terrible confusion of the night assault, the last despairing attempt of the Confederates to break through the encircling Federal forces, hurried orders and urgent appeals were sent. At dawn of March 25, 1865, General Gordon carried Fort Stedman with desperate gallantry and cut the wire to City Point. The Federals speedily sent the message of disaster: ‘The enemy has broken our right, taken Stedman, and are moving on City Point.’ Assuming command, General Parke ordered a counter-attack and recaptured the fort. The City Point wire was promptly restored and Meade, controlling the whole army by telegraph, made a combined and successful attack by several corps, capturing the entrenched picket-line of the Confederates.

[358] ceed the ringing messages of October 19, 1863, when Grant, from Louisville, Kentucky, bid Thomas ‘to hold Chattanooga at all hazards,’ and received the laconic reply in a few hours, ‘I will hold the town till we starve.’ Here, as elsewhere, appeared the anomalous conditions of the service.

While telegraph duties were performed with efficiency, troubles were often precipitated by divided authority. When Superintendent Stager ordered a civilian, who was engaged in building lines, out of Halleck's department, the general ordered him back, saying, ‘ There must be one good head of telegraph lines in my department, not two, and that head must be under me.’ Though Stager protested to Secretary of War Stanton, the latter thought it best to yield in that case.

When General Grant found it expedient to appoint an aide as general manager of lines in his army, the civilian chief, J. C. Van Duzer, reported it to Stager, who had Grant called to account by the War Department. Grant promptly put Van Duzer under close confinement in the guardhouse, and later sent him out of the department, under guard. As an outcome, the operators planned a strike, which Grant quelled by telegraphic orders to confine closely every man resigning or guilty of contumacious conduct. Stager's efforts to dominate Grant failed through Stanton's fear that pressure would cause Grant to ask for relief from his command.

Stager's administration culminated in an order by his assistant, dated Cleveland, November 4, 1862; strictly requiring the operators to retain ‘the original copy of every telegram sent by any military or other Government officer . . . and mailed to the War Department.’ Grant answered, ‘ Colonel Stager has no authority to demand the original of military despatches, and cannot have them.’ The order was never enforced, at least with Grant.

If similar experiences did not change the policy in Washington, it produced better conditions in the field and ensured harmonious cooperation. Of Van Duzer, it is to be said that [359]

Friends of Lincoln in his last days—military telegraph operators at City Point. 1864 When Lincoln went to City Point at the request of General Grant, March 23, 1865, Grant directed his cipher operator to report to the President and keep him in touch by telegraph with the army in its advance on Richmond and with the War Department at Washington. For the last two or three weeks of his life Lincoln virtually lived in the telegraph office in company with the men in this photograph. He and Samuel H. Beckwith, Grant's cipher operator, were almost inseparable and the wires were kept busy with despatches to and from the President. Beckwith's tent adjoined the larger tent of Colonel Bowers, which Lincoln made his headquarters, and where he received the translations of his numerous cipher despatches

[360] he later returned to the army and performed conspicuous service. At the battle of Chattanooga, he installed and operated lines on or near the firing-line during the two fateful days, November 24-25, 1863, often under heavy fire. Always sharing the dangers of his men, Van Duzer, through his coolness and activity under fire, has been mentioned as the only fighting officer of the Federal telegraph service.

Other than telegraphic espionage, the most dangerous service was the repair of lines, which often was done under fire and more frequently in a guerilla-infested country. Many men were captured or shot from ambush while thus engaged. Two of Clowry's men in Arkansas were not only murdered, but were frightfully mutilated. In Tennessee, conditions were sometimes so bad that no lineman would venture out save under heavy escort. Three repair men were killed on the Fort Donelson line alone. W. R. Plum, in his ‘Military Telegraph,’ says that ‘about one in twelve of the operators engaged in the service were killed, wounded, captured, or died in the service from exposure.’

Telegraphic duties at military headquarters yielded little in brilliancy and interest compared to those of desperate daring associated with tapping the opponent's wires. At times, offices were seized so quickly as to prevent telegraphic warnings. General Mitchel captured two large Confederate railway trains by sending false messages from the Huntsville, Alabama, office, and General Seymour similarly seized a train near Jacksonville, Florida.

While scouting, Operator William Forster obtained valuable despatches by tapping the line along the CharlestonSa-vannah railway for two days. Discovered, he was pursued by bloodhounds into a swamp, where he was captured up to his armpits in mire. Later, the telegrapher died in prison.

In 1863, General Rosecrans deemed it most important to learn whether Bragg was detaching troops to reenforce the garrison at Vicksburg or for other purposes. The only cer- [361]

Military telegraph operators at City Point, August, 1864 The men in this photograph, from left to right, are Dennis Doren, Superintendent of Construction; A. H. Caldwell, who was for four years cipher clerk at the headquarters of the Army of the Potomac; James A. Murray, who as wire-tapper of Confederate telegraph lines accompanied Kilpatrick in his raid toward Richmond and down the Peninsula in February, 1864, when the Union cavalry leader made his desperate attempt to liberate the Union prisoners in Libby prison. The fourth is J. H. Emerick, who was complimented for distinguished services in reporting Pleasonton's cavalry operations in 1863, and became cipher operator in Richmond in 1865. Through Emerick's foresight and activity the Union telegraph lines were carried into Richmond the night after its capture. Samuel H. Beckwith was the faithful cipher operator who accompanied Lincoln from City Point on his visit to Richmond April 4, 1865. In his account of this visit, published in ‘Lincoln in the Telegraph Office, ’ by David Homer Bates, he tells how the President immediately repaired to his accustomed desk in Colonel Bowers' tent, next to the telegraph office, upon his return to City Point. Beckwith found a number of cipher messages for the President awaiting translation, doubtless in regard to Grant's closing in about the exhausted forces of Lee.

[362] tain method seemed to be by tapping the wires along the Chattanooga railroad, near Knoxville, Tennessee. For this most dangerous duty, two daring members of the telegraph service volunteered—F. S. Van Valkenbergh and Patrick Mullarkey. The latter afterward was captured by Morgan, in Ohio. With four Tennesseeans, they entered the hostile country and, selecting a wooded eminence, tapped the line fifteen miles from Knoxville, and for a week listened to all passing despatches. Twice escaping detection, they heard a message going over the wire which ordered the scouring of the district to capture Union spies. They at once decamped, barely in time to escape the patrol. Hunted by cavalry, attacked by guerillas, approached by Confederate spies, they found aid from Union mountaineers, to whom they owed their safety. Struggling on, with capture and death in daily prospect, they finally fell in with Union pickets—being then half starved, clothed in rags, and with naked, bleeding feet. They had been thirty-three days within the Confederate lines, and their stirring adventures make a story rarely equaled in thrilling interest.

Confederate wires were often tapped during Sherman's march to the sea, a warning of General Wheeler's coming raid being thus obtained. Operator Lonergan copied important despatches from Hardee, in Savannah, giving Bragg's movements in the rear of Sherman, with reports on cavalry and rations.

Wiretapping was also practised by the Confederates, who usually worked in a sympathetic community. Despite their daring skill the net results were often small, owing to the Union system of enciphering all important messages. Their most audacious and persistent telegraphic scout was Ellsworth, Morgan's operator, whose skill, courage, and resourcefulness contributed largely to the success of his daring commander. Ellsworth was an expert in obtaining despatches, and especially in disseminating misleading information by bogus messages.

In the East, an interloper from Lee's army tapped the [363]

War service over-military telegraph operators in Richmond, June, 1865 ‘The cipher operators with the various armies were men of rare skill, unswerving integrity, and unfailing loyalty,’ General Greeley pronounces from personal knowledge. Caldwell, as chief operator, accompanied the Army of the Potomac on every march and in every siege, contributing also to the efficiency of the field telegraphers. Beckwith remained Grant's cipher operator to the end of the war. He it was who tapped a wire and reported the hiding-place of Wilkes Booth. The youngest boy operator, O'Brien, began by refusing a princely bribe to forge a telegraphic reprieve, and later won distinction with Butler on the James and with Schofield in North Carolina. W. R. Plum, who wrote a ‘History of the Military Telegraph in the Civil War,’ also rendered efficient service as chief operator to Thomas, and at Atlanta. The members of the group are, from left to right: 1, Dennis Doren, Superintendent of Construction; 2, L. D. McCandless; 3, Charles Bart; 4, Thomas Morrison; 5, James B. Norris; 6, James Caldwell; 7, A. Harper Caldwell, chief cipher operator, and in charge; 8, Maynard A. Huyck; 9, Dennis Palmer; 10, J. H. Emerick; 11, James H. Nichols. Those surviving in June, 1911, were Morrison, Norris, and Nichols.

[364] wire between the War Department and Burnside's headquarters at Aquia Creek, and remained undetected for probably several days. With fraternal frankness, the Union operators advised him to leave.

The most prolonged and successful wiretapping was that by C. A. Gaston, Lee's confidential operator. Gaston entered the Union lines near City Point, while Richmond and Petersburg were besieged, with several men to keep watch for him, and for six weeks he remained undisturbed in the woods, reading all messages which passed over Grant's wire. Though unable to read the ciphers, he gained much from the despatches in plain text. One message reported that 2,586 beeves were to be landed at Coggins' Point on a certain day. This information enabled Wade Hampton to make a timely raid and capture the entire herd.

It seems astounding that Grant, Sherman, Thomas, and Meade, commanding armies of hundreds of thousands and working out the destiny of the Republic, should have been debarred from the control of their own ciphers and the keys thereto. Yet, in 1864, the Secretary of War issued an order forbidding commanding generals to interfere with even their own cipher-operators and absolutely restricting the use of cipher-books to civilian ‘telegraph experts, approved and appointed by the Secretary of War.’ One mortifying experience with a despatch untranslatable for lack of facilities constrained Grant to order his cipher-operator, Beckwith, to reveal the key to Colonel Comstock, his aide, which was done under protest. Stager at once dismissed Beckwith, but on Grant's request and insistence of his own responsibility, Beckwith was restored.

The cipher-operators with the various armies were men of rare skill, unswerving integrity, and unfailing loyalty. Caldwell, as chief operator, accompanied the Army of the Potomac on every march and in every siege, contributing also to the efficiency of the field-telegraphs. Beckwith was Grant's cipher- [365]

A telegraph office in the trenches In this photograph are more of the ‘minute men’ who helped the Northern leaders to draw the coils closer about Petersburg with their wonderful system of instantaneous intercommunication. They brought the commanding generals actually within seconds of each other, though miles of fortifications might intervene. There has evidently been a lull in affairs, and they have been dining at their ease. Two of them in the background are toasting each other, it may be for the last time. The mortality among those men who risked their lives, with no hope or possibility of such distinction and recognition as come to the soldier who wins promotion, was exceedingly high.

[366] operator to the end of the war, and was the man who tapped a wire and reported the hiding-place of Wilkes Booth. Another operator, Richard O'Brien, in 1863 refused a princely bribe to forge a telegraphic reprieve, and later won distinction with Butler on the James and with Schofield in North Carolina. W. R. Plum, who wrote ‘ History of the Military Telegraph in the Civil War,’ also rendered efficient service as chief operator to Thomas, and at Atlanta. It is regrettable that such men were denied the glory and benefits of a military service, which they actually, though not officially, gave.

The bitter contest, which lasted several years, over fieldtelegraphs ended in March, 1864, when the Signal Corps transferred its field-trains to the civilian bureau. In Sherman's advance on Atlanta, Van Duzer distinguished himself by bringing up the field-line from the rear nearly every night. At Big Shanty, Georgia, the whole battle-front was covered by working field-lines which enabled Sherman to communicate at all times with his fighting and reserve commands. Hamley considers the constant use of field-telegraphs in the flanking operations by Sherman in Georgia as showing the overwhelming value of the service. This duty was often done under fire and other dangerous conditions.

In Virginia, in 1864-65, Major Eckert made great and successful efforts to provide Meade's army with ample facilities. A well-equipped train of thirty or more battery-wagons, wire-reels, and construction carts were brought together under Doren, a skilled builder and energetic man. While offices were occasionally located in battery-wagons, they were usually under tent-flies next to the headquarters of Meade or Grant. Through the efforts of Doren and Caldwell, all important commands were kept within control of either Meade or Grant—even during engagements. Operators were often under fire, and at Spotsylvania Court House telegraphers, telegraph-cable, and battery-wagons were temporarily within the Confederate lines. From these trains was sent the ringing des- [367]

The telegraph construction train, in Richmond at last This train, under the direction of Mr. A. Harper Caldwell, Chief Operator of the Army of the Potomac, was used in the construction of field-telegraph lines during the Wilderness campaign and in operations before Petersburg. After the capture of Richmond it was used by Superintendent Dennis Doren to restore the important telegraph routes of which that city was the center. In Virginia in 1864-5, Major Eckert made great and successful efforts to provide Meade's army with ample facilities. A well-equipped train of thirty or more battery wagons, wire-reels, and construction carts was brought together under the skilful and energetic Doren.

[368] patch from the Wilderness, by which Grant inspired the North, ‘I propose to fight it out on this line if it takes all summer.’

During siege operations at Petersburg, a system of lines connected the various headquarters, depots, entrenchments, and even some picket lines. Cannonading and sharpshooting were so insistent that operators were often driven to bombproof offices—especially during artillery duels and impending assaults. Nerve-racking were the sounds and uncomfortably dangerous the situations, yet the operators held their posts. Under the terrible conditions of a night assault, the last despairing attempt to break through the encircling Federal forces at Petersburg, hurried orders and urgent appeals were sent. At dawn of March 25, 1865, General Gordon carried Fort Stedman with desperate gallantry, and cut the wire to City Point. The Federals speedily sent the message of disaster, ‘ The enemy has broken our right, taken Stedman, and are moving on City Point.’ Assuming command, General Parke ordered a counter-attack and recaptured the fort. Promptly the City Point wire was restored, and Meade, controlling the whole army by telegraph, made a combined attack by several corps, capturing the entrenched picket line of the Confederates.

First of all of the great commanders, Grant used the military telegraph both for grand tactics and for strategy in its broadest sense. From his headquarters with Meade's army in Virginia, May, 1864, he daily gave orders and received reports regarding the operations of Meade in Virginia, Sherman in Georgia, Sigel in West Virginia, and Butler on the James River. Later he kept under direct control military forces exceeding half a million of soldiers, operating over a territory of eight hundred thousand square miles in area. Through concerted action and timely movements, Grant prevented the reenforcement of Lee's army and so shortened the war. Sherman said, ‘ The value of the telegraph cannot be exaggerated, as illustrated by the perfect accord of action of the armies of Virginia and Georgia.’