Showing posts with label CSS Arkansas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label CSS Arkansas. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Wednesday, October 2, 1862

With what extraordinary care we prepared for our ride yesterday! One would have thought that some great event was about to take place. But in spite of our long toilet, we stood ready equipped almost an hour before Colonel Breaux arrived. I was standing in a novel place — upon the bannisters looking over the fields to see if he was coming — and, not seeing him, made some impatient exclamation, when lo! he appeared before me, having only been concealed by the wood-pile, and O my prophetic soul! Captain Morrison was by his side!

There was quite a cavalcade of us: Mr. Carter and his wife, Mrs. Badger and Mrs. Worley, in two buggies; the three boys, who, of course, followed on horseback, and the two gentlemen, Miriam, Anna, and I, riding also. It was really a very pretty sight, when Captain Morrison and I, who took the lead going, would reach the top of one of the steep hills and look down on the procession in the hollow below. Fortunately it was a very cloudy evening; for, starting at four, it would have been very unpleasant to ride that distance with the sun in our faces.

As we reached the town we heard the loud report of two cannon which caused the elder ladies to halt and suggest the propriety of a return. But if it was a gunboat, that was the very thing I was anxious to see; so we hurried on to the batteries. It proved to be only practicing, however. At the first one we stopped at, the crew of the Arkansas were drilling. After stopping a while there, we followed the river to see the batteries below. It was delightful to ride on the edge of a high bluff with the muddy Mississippi below, until you fancied what would be the probable sensation if the horse should plunge down into the waters; then it ceased to be so pleasant. The great, strong animal I rode could have carried me over without a protest on my part; for the ridiculous bit in his mouth was by no means suited to his strength; and it would require a more powerful arm than mine to supply the deficiency. Miriam had generously sacrificed her own comfort to give him to me; and rode fiery Joe instead of her favorite. But it was by no means a comfort to me. Then Anna was not reconciled to her pony while I was on such a fine horse, until I proposed an exchange, and gladly dismounted near an old mill two miles and a half below Port Hudson, as we returned home.

In leaving the town, we lost sight of the buggies, as there was no carriage road that might follow the bluff; and though there was one just back, we never saw our buggies again. Once, following a crescent, far below us lay the water battery concealed by the trees that grew by the water's edge, looking, from where we stood, like quite a formidable precipice. Then still beyond, after leaving the river, we passed through a camp where the soldiers divided their attention equally between eating their supper and staring at us in the most profound silence. Then, through an old gate, down a steep hill, past a long line of rifle-pits, a winding road, and another camp where more men stared and cooked their supper, we came to the last battery but one, which lay so far below that it was too late to visit it. We returned highly delighted with what we had seen and our pleasant ride. It was late when we got back, as altogether our ride had been some fifteen miles in length. As soon as we could exchange our habits for our evening dresses, we rejoined our guests at the supper-table, where none of us wanted for an appetite except poor Captain Morrison, who could not be tempted by the dishes we so much relished. After supper, Colonel Breaux and I got into a discussion, rather, he talked, while I listened with eyes and ears, with all my soul. . . . What would I not give for such knowledge! He knows everything, and can express it all in the clearest, purest language, though he says he could not speak a word of English at fourteen!

The discussion commenced by some remark I made about physiognomy; he took it up, and passed on to phrenology — in which he is no great believer. From there he touched on the mind, and I listened, entranced, to him. Presently he asserted that I possessed reasoning faculties, which I fear me I very rudely denied. You see, every moment the painful conviction of my ignorance grew more painful still, until it was most humiliating; and I repelled it rather as a mockery. He described for my benefit the process of reasoning, the art of thinking. I listened more attentively still, resolving to profit by his words. . . . Then he turned the conversation on quite another theme. Health was the subject. He delicately alluded to my fragile appearance, and spoke of the necessity of a strong constitution to sustain a vigorous mind. If the mind prevailed over the weak body, in its turn it became affected by decay, and would eventually lose its powers. It was applicable to all cases; he did not mean that I was sickly, but that my appearance bespoke one who had not been used to the exercise that was most necessary for me. Horseback rides, walks, fresh air were necessary to preserve health. No man had greater disgust for a freckled face than he; but a fair face could be preserved by the most ordinary precautions and even improved by such exercise. He illustrated my case by showing the difference between the flower growing in the sunshine and that growing in a cellar. Father's own illustration and very words, when he so often tried to impress on me the necessity of gaining a more robust frame than nature had bestowed! And a letter he had made Hal write me, showing the danger of such neglect, rose before me. I forgot Colonel Breaux; I remembered only the ardent desire of those two, who seemed to speak to me through his lips. It produced its effect. I felt the guilt I had incurred by not making greater efforts to gain a more robust frame; and putting on my sunbonnet as I arose from the breakfast-table this morning, I took my seat here on the wide balcony where I have remained seated on the floor ever since, with a chair for a desk, trying to drink an extra amount of fresh air.

I was sorry when Colonel Breaux arose to take his leave. As he took my hand, I said earnestly, “Thank you for giving me something to think about.” He looked gratified, made some pleasant remark, and after talking a while longer, said goodnight again and rode off. While undressing, Miriam and I spoke of nothing else. And when I lay down, and looked in my own heart and saw my shocking ignorance and pitiful inferiority so painfully evident even to my own eyes, I actually cried. Why was I denied the education that would enable me to be the equal of such a man as Colonel Breaux and the others? He says the woman's mind is the same as the man's, originally; it is only education that creates the difference. Why was I denied that education? Who is to blame? Have I exerted fully the natural desire To Know that is implanted in all hearts? Have I done myself injustice in my self-taught ignorance, or has injustice been done to me? Where is the fault, I cried. Have I labored to improve the few opportunities thrown in my path, to the best of my ability? “Answer for yourself. With the exception of ten short months at school, where you learned nothing except arithmetic, you have been your own teacher, your own scholar, all your life, after you were taught by mother the elements of reading and writing. Give an account of your charge. What do you know?” Nothing! except that I am a fool! and I buried my face in the sheet; I did not like even the darkness to see me in my humiliation.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 245-50

Monday, November 9, 2015

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Tuesday, September 30, 1862

It required very little persuasion to induce those gentlemen to stay to supper, the other evening, and it was quite late before they took their leave. Dr. Addison I was very much pleased with, and so were all the rest. Mr. M–––, none of us fell desperately in love with. He is too nonchalant and indifferent, besides having a most peculiar pronunciation which grated harshly on my ears, and that no orthography could fully express. “Garb,” for instance, was distorted into “gairb,” “yard” into “yaird,” “Airkansas,” and all such words that I can only imitate by a violent dislocation of my lower jaw that puts Anna into convulsions of laughter — only she would laugh the same if it was not funny. This Kentuckian pronunciation grates “hairshly” on my Southern ears. Miriam addressed herself exclusively to the Doctor, so I was obliged to confine my attention entirely to neglected Mr. M–––, in which pious duty I was ably and charitably seconded by the General. Speaking of the bravery and daring displayed by the Southern soldiers during this war, Mr. M––– mentioned the dangerous spot he had seen us in the first day we went down to the “Airkansas” and said that, lying directly across the point from the Essex, they expected every instant to see one of her shells explode among us, and were very uneasy about our position, as we did not seem to know the danger. I asked him if he had observed anything peculiar among the dozen planters and overseers standing a short distance from us, when the Captain sent us word that our position was a very dangerous one, as they expected the Essex to open fire every instant, and we had best stand below the levee, higher up, where we would be safe from shells. “I noticed that before any of you understood your position, every man had disappeared as though by magic.” Now I had noticed that myself. When I turned, under shelter of the levee, our gallant planters were galloping off in the distance. While Ginnie and I looked and laughed, we suddenly found ourselves the sole objects on the horizon; the other girls were in the road below, going carelessly toward the carriage; so we followed, having lost sight of the brave representatives of Southern chivalry, being the last to leave the supposed field of danger. To my former remark, let me add that there is only one set who take better care for their safety than married women; and that set is composed exclusively of the “Home Guard.” Timid girls, either through ignorance or fun, compose the majority of the brave “men” that the volunteer service has not absorbed.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 242-3

Thursday, September 17, 2015

Diary of Sarah Morgan: August 6, 1862

We six madcaps got in the carriage and buggy, and rode off in search of news. We took a quantity of old linen rags along, and during the whole drive, our fingers were busy making lint. Once we stopped at a neighbor's to gather the news, but that did not interfere with our labors at all. Four miles from here we met a crowd of women flying, and among them recognized Mrs. La Noue and Noemie. A good deal of loud shouting brought them to the carriage in great surprise to see us there. They were running from the plantation where they had taken refuge, as it was not safe from the shells, as the gunboats had proved to them. The reports we had heard in the morning were from shots fired on this side of the river by them, in hopes of hurting a guerrilla or two. Noemie told us that two Western regiments had laid down their arms, and General Williams had been killed by his own men. She looked so delighted, and yet it made me sick to think of his having been butchered so. Phillie leaned out, and asked her, as she asked everybody, if she knew anything about her father. Noemie, in her rapture over that poor man's death, exclaimed, “Don't know a word about him! know Williams was cut to pieces, though!” — and that is all we could learn from her. We went on until we came insight of Baton Rouge. There it stood, looking so beautiful against the black, lowering sky that I could not but regret its fate. We could see the Garrison, State House, Asylum, and all that; but the object of the greatest interest to me was the steeple of the Methodist church, for to the right of it lay home. While looking at it, a negro passed who was riding up and down the coast collecting lint, so I gave him all we had made, and commenced some more. Presently, we met Mr. Phillips, to whom Phillie put the same question. “He is on the Laurel Hill a prisoner — Confound that negro! where did he go?” And so on, each answer as far as concerned her, seeming a labor, but the part relating to the servant very hearty. Poor Phillie complained that everybody was selfish — thought only of their own affairs, and did not sympathize with her. “Yes, my dear,” I silently assented; for it was very true; every one seemed to think of their own interests alone. It was late before we got home, and then we had great fun in watching shells which we could dimly trace against the clouds, falling in what must have been the Garrison. Then came a tremendous fire, above, which may have been a boat — I don't know.

I hear a tremendous firing again, and from the two volumes of smoke, should judge it was the Arkansas and the Essex trying their strength at a distance. We are going down to see what's the fun. It would be absurd to record all the rumors that have reached us, since we can rely on none. They say we fought up to nine last night, and occupied the Garrison for five minutes, when the shells forced us to abandon it. Also that four regiments laid down their arms, that the Federals were pursued by our men to the river, driven to the gunboats, and pushed off to prevent the Western men from coming aboard. An eye-witness, from this side, reports that General Williams, “they say,” was forcibly held before a cannon and blown to pieces. For the sake of humanity, I hope this is false.

Oh, what a sad day this is for our country! Mother disapproved so of our going to the levee to see the fight, that we consented to remain, though Miriam and Ginnie jumped into the buggy and went off alone. Presently came tidings that all the planters near Baton Rouge were removing their families and negroes, and that the Yankees were to shell the whole coast, from there up to here. Then Phillie, Lilly (Nolan), and I jumped in — the carriage that was still waiting, and ran after the others to bring them back before they got in danger; but when we reached the end of the long lane, we saw them standing on the high levee, wringing their hands and crying. We sprang out and joined them, and there, way at the bend, lay the Arkansas on fire! All except myself burst into tears and lamentations, and prayed aloud between their sobs. I had no words or tears; I could only look at our sole hope burning, going, and pray silently. Oh, it was so sad! Think, it was our sole dependence! And we five girls looked at her as the smoke rolled over her, watched the flames burst from her decks, and the shells as they exploded one by one beneath the water, coming up in jets of steam. And we watched until down the road we saw crowds of men toiling along toward us. Then we knew they were those who had escaped, and the girls sent up a shriek of pity.

On they came, dirty, half-dressed, some with only their guns, others, a few, with bundles and knapsacks on their backs, grimy and tired, but still laughing. We called to the first, and asked if the boat were really afire; they shouted, “Yes,” and went on, talking still. Presently one ran up and told us the story. How yesterday their engine had broken, and how they had labored all day to repair it; how they had succeeded, and had sat by their guns all night; and this morning, as they started to meet the Essex, the other engine had broken; how each officer wrote his opinion that it was impossible to fight her with any hope of success under such circumstances, and advised the Captain to abandon her; how they had resolved to do so, had exchanged shots with the Essex across the point, and the first of the latter (only one, also) had set ours afire, when the men were ordered to take their side arms. They thought it was to board the Essex, assembled together, when the order was given to fire the Arkansas and go ashore, which was done in a few minutes. Several of the crew were around us then, and up and down the road they were scattered still in crowds.

Miriam must have asked the name of some of the officers; for just then she called to me, “He says that is Mr. Read!” I looked at the foot of the levee, and saw two walking together. I hardly recognized the gentleman I was introduced to on the McRae in the one that now stood below me in rough sailor pants, a pair of boots, and a very thin and slazy lisle undershirt. That is all he had on, except an old straw hat, and — yes! he held a primer! I did not think it would be embarrassing to him to meet me under such circumstances; I only thought of Jimmy's friend as escaping from a sad fate; so I rushed down a levee twenty feet high, saying, “O Mr. Read! You won't recognize me, but I am Jimmy's sister” He blushed modestly, shook my hand as though we were old friends, and assured me he remembered me, was glad to meet me, etc. Then Miriam came down and talked to him, and then we went to the top of the levee where the rest were, and watched the poor Arkansas burn.

By that time the crowd that had gone up the road came back, and we found ourselves in the centre of two hundred men, just we five girls, talking with the officers around us as though they were old friends. You could only guess they were officers, for a dirtier, more forlorn set I never saw. Not dirty either; they looked clean, considering the work they had been doing. Nobody introduced anybody else; we all felt like brothers and sisters in our common calamity. There was one handsome Kentuckian, whose name I soon found to be Talbot, who looked charmingly picturesque in his coarse cottonade pants, white shirt, straw hat, black hair, beard, and eyes, with rosy cheeks. He was a graduate of the Naval Academy some years ago. Then another jolly-faced young man from the same Academy, pleased me, too. He, the doctor, and the Captain, were the only ones who possessed a coat in the whole crowd, the few who saved theirs carrying them over their arms. Mr. Read more than once blushingly remarked that they were prepared to fight, and hardly expected to meet us; but we pretended to think there was nothing unusual in his dress. I can understand, though, that he should feel rather awkward; I would not like to meet him, if I was in the same costume.

They all talked over their loss cheerfully, as far as the loss of money, watches, clothes, were concerned; but they were disheartened about their boat. One threw himself down near my feet, saying, Me wild. I have saved my gun, et puis the clothes that I stand in!” and laughed as though it were an excellent joke. One who had been on the Merrimac chiefly regretted the loss of the commission appointing him there, though he had not saved a single article. The one with the jolly face told me Will Pinckney was among those attacking Baton Rouge, and assured him he expected to take supper there last night. He thought it would be with us, I know! I hope he is safe!

After a while the men were ordered to march up the lane, to some resting spot it is best not to mention here, and straggled off; but there were many sick among them, one wounded at Vicksburg, and we instantly voted to walk the mile and three quarters home, and give them the carriage and buggy. But long after they left, we stood with our new friends on the levee watching the last of the Arkansas, and saw the Essex, and two gunboats crowded with men, cautiously turn the point, and watch her burn. What made me furious was the thought of the glowing accounts they would give of their “capture of the Arkansas!!!” Capture, and they fired a shot apiece! — for all the firing we heard was the discharge of her guns by the flames. We saw them go back as cautiously, and I was furious, knowing the accounts they would publish of what we ourselves had destroyed. We had seen many shells explode, and one magazine, and would have waited for the other, if the clouds had not threatened rain speedily. But we had to leave her a mere wreck, still burning, and started off on our long walk.

In our hurry, I had brought neither handkerchief nor gloves, but hardly missed either, I was so excited. Mr. Talbot walked home with me, and each of the others with some one else. He had a small bundle and a sword, and the latter I insisted on carrying. It was something, to shoulder a sword made for use rather than for ornament! So I would carry it. He said “he would remember who had carried it, and the recollection would give it a new value in his eyes, and I might rest assured it should never be disgraced after that, and all that sort of thing, of course, as it is usual to say it on such occasions. But I shouldered the sword bravely, determined to show my appreciation of the sacrifice they had made for us, in coming to our rescue on a boat they had every reason to believe was unsafe. I liked Mr. Talbot! He made himself very agreeable in that long walk. He asked permission to send me a trophy from the first action in which he used “that” sword, and didn't I say yes! He thought Southern men had every encouragement in the world, from the fact that the ladies welcomed them with great kindness in victory or defeat, insinuating he thought they hardly deserved our compassion after their failure on the Arkansas. But I stoutly denied that it was a failure. Had they not done their best? Was it their fault the machinery broke? And in defeat or vic tory, were they not still fighting for us? Were we the less grateful when they met with reverse? Oh, didn't I laud the Southern men with my whole heart!—and I think he felt better for it, too! Yes! I like him!

We all met at the steps, and water was given to our cavaliers, who certainly enjoyed it. We could not ask them in, as Dr. Nolan is on his parole; but Phillie intimated that if they chose to order, they might do as they pleased, as women could not resist armed men! So they took possession of the sugarhouse, and helped themselves to something to eat, and were welcome to do it, since no one could prevent! But they first stood talking on the balcony, gayly, and we parted with many warm wishes on both sides, insisting that, if they assisted at a second attack on Baton Rouge, they must remember our house was at their service, wounded or in health. And they all shook hands with us, and looked pleased, and said “God bless you,” and “Good-bye.”

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 147-55

Diary of Sarah Morgan: August 6, 1862 – Evening.

I heard a while ago, the doctor of the Ram, who brought back the buggy, say the Arkansas's crew were about leaving; so remembering poor Mr. Read had lost everything, mother, suggesting he might need money, gave me twenty dollars to put in his hands, as some slight help towards reaching his destination. Besides, coming from Jimmy's mother, he could not have been hurt. But when I got down, he was far up the lane, walking too fast for me to overtake him; then I tried to catch Mr. Stephenson, to give it to him for me, but failed. Presently, we saw I am afraid to say how many wagons loaded with them, coming from the sugar-house; so Phillie, Lilly, and I snatched up some five bottles of gin, between us, and ran out to give it to them. A rough old sailor received mine with a flood of thanks, and the others gave theirs to those behind. An officer rode up saying, “Ladies, there is no help for it! The Yankee cavalry are after us, and we must fight them in the corn. Take care of yourselves!” We shouted “Yes!” told them to bring in the wounded and we would nurse them. Then the men cried, “God bless you,” and we cried, “Hurrah for the Arkansas's crew,” and “Fight for us!” Altogether it was a most affecting scene. Phillie, seeing how poorly armed they were, suggested a gun, which I flew after and delivered to a rough old tar. When I got out, the cart then passing held Mr. Talbot, who smiled benignly and waved his hat like the rest. He looked still better in his black coat, but the carts reminded me of what the guillotine days must have been in France. He shouted “Good-bye,” we shouted “Come to us, if you are wounded”; he smiled and bowed, and I cried, “Use that sword!” — whereupon he sprang to his feet and grasped the hilt as though about to commence. Then came other officers; Mr. Scales, Mr. Barblaud, etc., who smiled recognition, stopped the wagon as Phillie handed up a plate of bread and meat, and talked gayly as they divided it, until the Captain rode up. “On, gentlemen! not a moment to lose!” Then the cart started off, the empty plate was flung overboard, and they rode off waving hats and crying, “God bless you, ladies!” in answer to our repeated offers of taking care of them if they were hurt. And they have gone to meet the Yankees, and I hope they won't, for they have worked enough to-day, and from my heart I pray God prosper those brave men!

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 155-7

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Diary of Sarah Morgan: August 5, 1862

About half-past nine, as we got up from the breakfast table, a guerrilla told us the ram Arkansas was lying a few miles below, on her way to cooperate with Breckinridge, whose advance guard had already driven the pickets into Baton Rouge. Then we all grew wild with excitement.

Such exclamations! such delight that the dreadful moment had at last arrived! And yet you could see each stop as we rejoiced, to offer up a prayer for the preservation of those who were risking their lives at that moment. Reason, and all else, was thrown aside, and we determined to participate in the danger, if there was any to be incurred. Mother threatened us with shot and shell and bloody murder, but the loud report of half a dozen cannon in slow succession only made us more determined to see the fun, so Lilly Nolan and Miss Walters got on horseback, and Phillie, Ginnie, Miriam, and I started off in the broiling sun, leaving word for the carriage to overtake us. When we once got in, the driver, being as crazy as we, fairly made his horses run along the road to catch a glimpse of our Ram. When, miles below, she came in sight, we could no longer remain in the carriage, but mounted the levee, and ran along on foot until we reached her, when we crossed to the outer levee, and there she lay at our feet.

And nothing in her after all! There lay a heavy, clumsy, rusty, ugly flatboat with a great square box in the centre, while great cannon put their noses out at the sides, and in front. The decks were crowded with men, rough and dirty, jabbering and hastily eating their breakfast. That was the great Arkansas! God bless and protect her, and the brave men she carries.

While there, a young man came up, and in answer to Phillie's inquiries about her father — who, having gone to town yesterday to report, being paroled, had written last night to say no passes were granted to leave town — the young fellow informed her so pleasantly that her father was a prisoner, held as hostage for Mr. Castle. Poor Phillie had to cry; so, to be still more agreeable, he told her, Yes, he had been sent to a boat lying at the landing, and ran the greatest risk, as the ram would probably sink the said boat in a few hours. How I hated the fool for his relish of evil tidings!

But never mind our wild expedition, or what came of it. Am I not patient! Ever since I commenced to write, the sound of a furious bombardment has been ringing in my ears; and beyond an occasional run to see the shells fly through the air (their white smoke, rather) I have not said a word of it. The girls have all crowded on the little balcony up here, towards town, and their shrieks of “There it goes!” “Listen!” “Look at them!” rise above the sound of the cannon, and occasionally draw me out, too. But I sit here listening, and wonder which report precedes the knocking down of our home; which shell is killing some one I know and love. Poor Tiche and Dophy! — where are they? And oh, I hope they did not leave my birdie Jimmy to die in his cage. I charged them to let him loose if they could not carry him. Dophy will be so frightened. I hope they are out of danger. Oh, my dear home! shall I ever see you again? And the Brunots! Oh, how I hope they are safe. These loud cannon make me heartsick, and yet I am so excited! How rapidly they answer each other! I am told the attack commenced at five this morning, and lasted three hours. Those girls are shouting that Baton Rouge must be on fire, from the volume of smoke in that direction. How they scream as the balls go up, to show it to each other. I think I'll take a look, too.

We are all going four or five miles through this warm sun to be nearer the scene of action. Any one might know there was no white man on the premises. There is the carriage! Oh, I am so seasick! What will I be before we get back?

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 144-7

Sunday, July 12, 2015

Diary of Gideon Welles: Tuesday, September 23, 1862

Received a letter from Commodore W. D. Porter stating his arrival in New York after many signal exploits, — capturing the ironclad steamer Arkansas, running Bayou Sara, etc. Charges from Admirals Farragut and Davis, accusing him of misrepresentation and worse, have preceded his arrival. The War Department has sent me an inexcusable letter, abusive of the military, which Porter has written, and which Stanton cannot notice. I have been compelled to reprove him and to send him before the Retiring Board. Like all the Porters, he is a courageous, daring, troublesome, reckless officer.

No news from the army. The Rebels appear to be moving back into Virginia in their own time and way, to select their own resting-place, and to do, in short, pretty much as they please. Am sad, sick, sorrowful over this state of things, but see no remedy without change of officers.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 145

Friday, April 24, 2015

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: July 21, 1862

Mr. ––– sick, but better to-day. This is the anniversary of the glorious battle of Manassas. Since that time we have had many reverses, but our victories, of late, have atoned for all, except the loss of life.

We have had another naval fight on the Mississippi, just north of Vicksburg. Our large gun-boat, Arkansas, ran into the Federal fleet of twelve or thirteen gun-boats and rams, and overcame them completely. Vicksburg stands the bombardment with unflinching gallantry. No news from the Army of the Potomac. It is reported that General Jackson has gone to meet General Pope, who is on this side of the Blue Ridge, marching, it is supposed, to join McClellan.

Mr. ––– takes a ride to-day; the first since his sickness.

My heart is full of gratitude for public and private blessings.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 127

Monday, February 16, 2015

Diary of Gideon Welles: Wednesday, August 20, 1862

Memo. Soon after hostilities commenced, in the spring or summer of 1861, a letter from William D. Porter to his son was published. The son had joined the Rebels, and so informed his father, who wrote him he thought he had committed a mistake. But, having taken this step, he advised him to adhere and do his duty. At that time W. D. P. was on duty in the Pacific. I immediately detached and ordered him home. He reported to me in great distress; disavowed the letter; said it was a forgery, that his son and himself were on bad terms and the letter had been written and published to injure him. There was, he informed me, much disagreement in the family; his son had been alienated from him, and, like David, sympathized with the Secessionists, while he (W.) had taken the opposite course. David, he remarked, was the intimate friend of Jefferson Davis and the Rebel conspirators, and he had expected that he would act with them, and he had no doubt that David's course had injured him; confounding him with D., he was made accountable for D.'s acts. David said he had no doubt that Bill wrote the letter, and I was of that opinion.1 William had, not without reason, the reputation of being very untruthful, — a failing of the Porters, for David was not always reliable on unimportant matters, but amplified and colored transactions, where he was personally interested especially, but he had not the bad reputation of William. I did not always consider David to be depended upon if he had an end to attain, and he had no hesitation in trampling down a brother officer if it would benefit himself. He had less heart than William.

Had a conversation with the President in relation to W. D. Porter, who was the efficient officer that attacked and destroyed the Rebel armored ram Arkansas. Porter is a bold, brave man, but reckless in many respects, and unpopular, perhaps not without reason, in the service. He has been earnest and vigorous on the Mississippi, and made himself. The Advisory Board under the late law omitted to recommend him for promotion. It was one of the few omissions that I regretted, for whatever the infirmities of the man I recognize his merits as an officer. His courage in destroying the Arkansas was manifest. Both the flag officers were delinquent in the matter of that vessel at Vicksburg, and I so wrote each of them. Admiral Farragut cannot conceal his joy that she is destroyed, but is not ready to do full justice to Porter.

I canvassed the whole question, — the law, the proceedings, the difficulties, the man, the officer, the responsibility of promoting him and of my advising it, — yet I felt it a duty, if service rendered in battle and under fire were to govern. The President conversed with me most fully, and said, “I am so satisfied that you are right generally, and in this case particularly, that I say to you, Go ahead, give Porter as you propose a Commodore's appointment, and I will stand by you, come what may.”

Sent a letter of reproof to Colonel Harris and also one to Lieutenant-Colonel Reynolds of the Marine Corps, between whom there is a bitter feud. Almost all the elder officers are at loggerheads and ought to be retired. Reynolds had been tried by court martial on charges preferred by Harris, and acquitted, though by confessions made to me personally guilty. But a majority of the anti-Harris faction constituted the court, and partisanship, not merit, governed the decision. I refused to approve the finding. In his turn, Reynolds brought charges against Harris, and of such a character as to implicate others. To have gone forward would have been to plunge into a series of courts martial for a year to come.

McClellan's forces have left the banks of James River several days since. Their exodus I think was not anticipated at Richmond, nor believed until after all had left and crossed the Chickahominy. We are beginning to hear of the arrival of the advance guard at Acquia Creek, Alexandria, and Fredericksburg. In the mean time Pope is being heavily pressed at Culpeper by Stonewall Jackson and the whole accumulated forces from Richmond, which has compelled him to fall back on the left bank of the Rapidan, his policy being to keep the enemy in check until McClellan's forces can unite with him.
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1 I some years later, and after William's death, learned from Admiral Farragut and Mrs. Farragut that they knew the letter to be a forgery and that it was got up for mischievous purposes. — G. W.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 87-9

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

From the South

CAIRO, April 23. Special to Chicago Times. The steamer Desoto arrived to-day from the flotilla off Ft. Pillow, having on board the first shipment of cotton sent up the river since the commencement of hostilities. A citizen of Kentucky connected with the government secret service returned on board the Desoto from a visit to Memphis. He was sent thither by one of our Generals in the field, and having obtained information of value to the Government, is making his way back. He brings Memphis papers of the 17th and New Orleans of the 15th. At the latter place the battle of Pittsburg was pronounced a splendid success of the Confederate army. The people were jubilant over the achievement, and enlisting of forced levies was going throughout the valley of the Mississippi with rapidity. He was at Corinth, and estimates the forces present at fully 150,000. The conscription act passed by the Confederate Congress, and under its provisions all able-bodied men between the ages of 18 & 35 were enrolling themselves for the defense of the Confederacy. The approaching contest is expected to result in the deliverance of the Southern soil from the presence of the Yankees, who are characterized as Goths and Vandals. Their great stand is to be made at Corinth, and in the result of the battle is deemed to depend on the fate of the Confederacy. Nor do the Southern people doubt the issue of the contest. The churches in New Orleans have given up their bells to be made into cannon. The women are yielding up their jewelry to enrich the Southern treasury, and throughout the South there rules a universal feeling of enthusiasm and sympathy for the cause. Entire confidence is reposed in the ability of Beauregard to whip the enemy and reclaim the country, so that the result of defeat is not discussed. The report of the wounding of Beauregard is false. The remains of A. S. Johnston were received at New Orleans with impressing demonstrations, and after lying in state for two days in the City Hall, were placed in the receiving vault of the St. Louis cemetery in that place. Great preparations were being made for a grand funeral pageant on the burial of the deceased chieftain. The citizens of Memphis are manifesting considerable alarm for the safety of their city. The greatest exertion is being made to put the defenses of the city in the best possible condition. Two new gunboats are already on their stocks, and will be ready for their armament in a week. These are to be named Beauregard and Arkansas, and are to be rendered almost impregnable by shot or shell. The former is defended by compressed cotton placed between her timbers. Her sides will exceed five feet in thickness. The Arkansas is iron plated. Both gunboats will be provided with powerful engines, and will be constructed according to the most approved principles of naval architecture – besides being fitted with enormous rams of iron projecting from their bows. With the latter they expect to run down our fleet, and destroy it at their leisure. Ft. Harris, just above Memphis, is being thoroughly fortified, and the rebels declare they will contest the passage of the Yankee flotilla down the Mississippi mile by mile. On the river between Memphis and Ft. Pillow the rebels have twelve gunboats. At Memphis the citizens desperately declare they will burn their property, rather than give it to the Yankee hordes. The expediency of burning the buildings is being discussed. At Chattanooga on Saturday night a large fire was observed in the direction of the rebel camp. Our scouts report that the enemy are drawing in their lines, and it is supposed that they are destroying their commissary stores, which cannot have conveyed owing to the bad state of the roads. The weather here has been very unpleasant, and it has rained for nearly a week. The roads are almost impassable. Health of the army is good. Gen. Halleck is renovating and making great improvements since his arrival. The report the Lieut. Col. Moore and Maj. Warden of the 13th Michigan regiment, were wounded at the battle of Pittsburg, is a mistake. I saw them both. – Their regiment made a forced march of 38 miles, and arrived on the battlefield on Monday p. m. The regiment acquitted themselves nobly. The body of Gov. Harvey has not yet been recovered, and everything that can bee done for the recovery of the body is being done. The Tennessee river is still rising, but slowly. Our pickets encountered some strolling rebels last night and captured about 20, including a Captain. Quite a number of deserters come in every day. Large reinforcements arrived here to-day.

– Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Friday Morning, April 25, 1862, p. 2

Friday, December 11, 2009

What a Memphis Paper Says --- Report of another Reliable Gentleman (?) &c.

CAIRO, April 23. – A gentleman has just arrived from Memphis with the Memphis Appeal of the 17th inst., from which I am allowed to extract the following:

In an editorial, devoted to the needs of the Mississippi valley, while acknowledging the danger of the success of the Federal flotilla, advises the employment of every one, black and white, to the extend of his ability, for defense, and advocates the construction of the most approved description of gunboats. Whatever can be done with wood and iron, and brain and muscle, must be done and done expeditiously.

The fearful mortality of Confederate officers in the recent battle of the west is explained by the fact that the enemy have organized bodies of sharpshooters whose assigned duty it is to pick all of the mean appearing on the field with plumes or epaulettes.

The Appeal advises the organizing of similar bodies of men in rebeldom.

The Federals had made no demonstration on the line of the Memphis and Ohio Railroad between Memphis and Union City; this road is operated to Taunton, Gibson county, only about 10 miles from Humboldt.

Capt. Bankhead, commanding Bankhead’s Confederate battery, when into the Shiloh battle with six pieces, and brought out twelve.

A report was current at Memphis by way of Corinth, that the Federals had abandoned Tennessee.

Gen. Prentiss, surrendered himself prisoner to private Simons, of Capt. Bethel’s company of the 22d Tennessee regiment, who conducted him to Col. Freeman; the Colonel received his sword and returning it introduced him to his regiment; when the regiment discovered the quality of their captive they vociferously cheered him. – Gen. Prentiss acknowledged the compliment by doffing his hat, and in a polite, set manner said: “Boys you have a right to cheer, for you fought like tigers.”

The Appeal says that the Confederate losses are enormously exaggerated. The killed will not exceed one thousand and their wounded five hundred, and their prisoners eight hundred, and ascribes their defeat to whisky found in the federal encampment on Sunday night.

Beauregard was not wounded, as reported by the Federal press.

The Remains of Gen. A. S. Johnston, after laying in state two days in the city Hall, were on Monday, the 14th inst., placed in the fault of the St. Louis Cemetery of New Orleans.

Our informant left Memphis the 17th, and on a pass managed to reach Humboldt, when he received safe conduct to Trenton, the present terminus of the Memphis and Ohio Railroad; from here he walked to Union City and Hickman. – There are no forces of either belligerents at Union City. From Hickman he came to this city on the Desoto. He represents that the existence of a Union sentiment at Memphis is all bosh.

Since the passage of the conscription bill by the Confederate Congress, all males between 18 and 35 have joined the army. There is no impressments; the people enter upon this service with zeal and ardor.

Business is almost entirely suspended, except in that class of goods needed for the army. – Confederate money is current, and readily taken at par in exchange for goods. There is no other money afloat.

Three gunboats were being constructed at Memphis, two of which, the Arkansas and Beauregard, would be finished in a week; the other would require a month to complete it. – The Arkansas is plated with two thicknesses of railroad iron, placed transversely, and is alone considered more than a match for the combined Federal flotilla. The Beauregard is a wooden boat with 30 inches of compressed cotton placed between heavy wooden timbers 18 inches thick, making a resistance to our shot of over five feet of wood and cotton. This they also consider impregnable. The rebels are thoroughly informed as to the construction of our boats, and think they have discovered and averted their weak pointes. Their boats are built upon a different model – are long and narrow, furnished with engines of enormous power, with all the modern improvements, and provided at the prow a la Merrimac.

He reports 18,000 in the rear of the Chickasaw bluffs, and throwing up intrenchments to provide against anticipated attack in the rear. The country back of the bluffs is now inundated.

Gen. Bragg is at Corinth. Gen. Price is to take command of Fort Pillow.

At Memphis the burning of the city is still discussed. The general impression seems to be that it will not be attempted. Cotton, tobacco, molasses and sugar is gathered in enormous piles upon the levee, and will be consigned to the flames upon the appearance of the federal fleet above Memphis.

The steamer DeSoto, just arrived from below, brings the first shipment of cotton from the valley of the Mississippi to northern ports since the war commenced.

Island No. 10 is to be fortified in accordance with plans from the War Department.

The DeSoto brings no intelligence of interest. The firing was resumed on Tuesday slowly and moderately; when the steamer left an expedition was being planned from the fleet to make a reconnioisance somewhere in the vicinity – destination unknown.

The 2d Illinois volunteers arrived from camp Dubois; they were assigned to this post in obedience to the request of Gen. Strong. Another regiment will speedily follow.

Now news from Pittsburg.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, April 26, 1862, p. 3