Diary of Musician David Lane, September 4, 1862

We have been three days in camp, and have fully recovered from the fatigues of our long journey. Drill is the order of the day, as it is the necessity of the hour. Officers and men have yet to learn the rudiments of military maneuvering. There is not a company officer who can put his men through company drill without making one—or more—ludicrous blunders. Yesterday our First Lieutenant was drilling a squad of men. He was giving all his attention to "time," and did not notice a fence had planted itself directly across our path. Suddenly he shouted: "Who—who—who! Come this way, you fellows in front—don't you see you are running into that fence?"

On Monday morning one of the men had been cleaning his gun, and, wishing to know if it would burn a cap, laid it down for the purpose of getting one. When he returned, instead of picking up his own gun, he took a loaded one that belonged to a guard. As a result of his stupidity, the ball passed through two tents, entered a young man's heel and passed through his foot lengthwise, rendering him a cripple for life. Rumors were in circulation all day Tuesday of Rebel movements. At dusk twenty rounds of ammunition were distributed.

We were then sent to our quarters to await orders. A spirit of unrest pervaded the camp. Men gathered in groups and whispered their conviction of a night attack.

At nine o'clock a picket fired an alarm. The bugle sounded "To arms." Orderlies ran up and down the line of tents shouting. "Fall in! Fall in with your arms; the Rebels are upon us!"

For a moment there was some confusion, but in less than five minutes we were in line, eager to meet the foe. But no enemy appeared. It was a ruse gotten up by the officers as an emergency drill, and, as such, it was a decided success. There were some ludicrous incidents, but, as a rule, the men buckled on their arms with promptness and appeared as cool as on dress parade.

Yesterday morning, as we were forming for company drill, a courier rode into camp with dispatches from headquarters. Five companies from our regiment were ordered to repair at once to Fort Gaines, eight miles distant, on the Virginia side of the Potomac. We started off briskly, but before we had gone a mile the order was countermanded, and we returned to camp.

The news this morning is not encouraging. General Pope has been defeated and driven back upon the fortifications around Washington, and the Rebels are trying to force their way across the Potomac. We are under marching orders. Rumor says we are to join Burnside's forces at Frederic City.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 8-9

Major-General Dabney H. Maury to James A. Seddon, August 11, 1864

MOBILE, August 11, 1864.

Hon. J. A. SEDDON,

    Secretary of War:

Raid preparing at Pensacola Navy-Yard; quiet elsewhere. Nothing late from Fort Morgan; wires broken. Forrest drove enemy's advance out of Oxford last night. All particulars of Fort Gaines' surrender known are commanding officer communicated with enemy and made terms without authority; his fort in good condition, garrison having suffered little. He made [no] reply to repeated orders and signals from General Page to hold his fort, and surrendered; conditions not known. Serious delays and mischief occasioned by depot quartermasters refusing to issue necessary supplies, except by orders from Richmond; please correct it.

D. H. MAURY,        

Major-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 39, Part 2 (Serial No. 78), p. 770

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: August 10, 1864

Hot and dry until 4 P.M. Gust, and 15 minutes' rain. Good for turnips.

Forts Gaines and Powell are lost—the latter blown up. Gen. Maury telegraphs for infantry, has some 4000 men for the defense of Mobile, etc.

Our raiders, under McCausland and Bradley Johnson, it is said were surprised and defeated last Sunday, with loss of 400 men, 500 horses, and 4 pieces of artillery. A rumor prevails that Early has gained another victory near Winchester.

No news yet from our agent sent to North Carolina to purchase supplies, but we learn flour and bacon are not held one-quarter as high there as here. I do sincerely hope Grant's raiders will keep quiet until I can get something to eat !

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 262

Diary of Gideon Welles: Tuesday, August 23, 1864

Received dispatches to-day from Admiral Farragut confirming intelligence received several days since through Rebel sources. The official account confirms my own previous impressions in regard to operations. Secretary Stanton in one of his bulletins represented that Fort Gaines had surrendered to General Granger and the army. It is shown that the proposition of Colonel Anderson, who commanded the fort, was to surrender to the fleet after the monitors had made an assault, that Admiral Farragut consulted with General Granger, that the terms were dictated from the squadron, that Colonel Anderson and Major Brown went on board the Admiral's vessel when the arrangement was consummated, etc.

Why should the Secretary of War try to deprive an officer like Farragut and the naval force of what is honestly their due? It is only one of many like occurrences during the War. I do not recollect a single instance of generous award to the Navy by Stanton or Halleck. Some will doubtless get in error by it, but I think the country mainly rightly appreciates it, and history may put all right. Not the history of this day and period; a generation at least must pass away before the errors, prejudices, and perversion of partisans will be dissipated, and the true facts be developed. I have had but brief opportunities to look into the so-called histories of the great events now passing, but the cursory examination which I have given let me see mountains of error, and much of it, I am sorry to say, was not unintentional on the part of the writers. Facts were made or worked to suit the partialities or prejudices of the person who professed to record them. Many in this day who read and hear of the capture of New Orleans believe it was taken by General Butler and the army, who were a hundred miles distant when the city surrendered, and it is obviously the purpose of the Secretary of War to so spread such an impression in regard to the capture of Fort Gaines, so that the Navy shall not have the credit.

It does not surprise nor grieve me that another and different class — the intense partisan - should wholly ignore the Navy Department in all naval victories. No word of credit is awarded us by them for the late achievement, yet I know the people are not wholly ignorant on the subject. Some of the more thoughtful will appreciate the labor and responsibility devolving on those who prepared the work, and furnished the means for the work in hand. Some credit is due for the selection of Farragut in the first instance. Mervine had been first assigned to command the blockade in the Gulf. I found when organizing the squadron at the commencement of the Rebellion that there was pressure and claim of usage for the senior officers. Many who were counted best had seceded and proved traitors. My thoughts turned to Gregory for that command, but Paulding, who was then the detailing officer, persuaded me to take Mervine. It was a mistake. Gregory is infinitely the better man. A few months satisfied me that Mervine, a worthy man doubtless, was good for nothing as an officer for such duties as the times required, and he was detached. He and his friends were greatly miffed and wanted a court of inquiry. Anxious to secure an efficient man for his successor, I consulted many and scrutinized carefully. The choice was eventually narrowed down to two, McKean and C. H. Bell. Foote, whom I consulted with others, after much hesitation inclined me to McKean, of whom I thought well from his promptness and patriotism immediately on his return from Japan in the Niagara. He was certainly an improvement on Mervine, but yet not the man, I was soon convinced, partly from ill health, — for the work that was wanted.

When the expedition to New Orleans was determined upon, the question as to who should have command of the naval forces became a subject of grave and paramount importance. I had heard that Farragut resided in Norfolk at the beginning of the troubles, but that he abandoned the place when Virginia seceded and had taken up his residence in the city of New York. The fact interested me. I had known something of him in Polk's administration, and his early connection with Commodore Porter was in his favor. All that I heard of him was to his credit as a capable, energetic, and determined officer, of undoubted loyalty. Admirals Joe Smith and Shubrick spoke well of him. The present Admiral D. D. Porter, who, with others, was consulted, expressed confidence in him, and as Porter himself was to take a conspicuous part in the expedition, it had an important influence. But among naval officers there was not a united opinion. Most of them, I think, while speaking well of Farragut, doubted if he was equal to the position, certainly not so well appointed a man as others, - but yet no one would name the man for a great and active campaign against Mobile or some other point. They knew not of New Orleans. After the question was decided, and, I believe, after Fox and D.D. Porter both wrote Farragut unofficially of his probable selection to command the new Gulf Squadron, I was cautioned in regard to the step I was taking. Senator Hale, when he learned the fact, asked me if I was certain of my man, — Southern born, a Southern resident, with a Southern wife, etc. Several Members of Congress questioned me closely; few knew Farragut, who had not then carved out a great name, and there was, I became conscious, a general impression or doubt whether I had not made a mistake. I will not follow the subject here. His works speak for themselves, and I am satisfied the selection was a proper one, probably the very best that could be made.

At that time Du Pont was in favor, almost a favorite. He had sought to be, or his friends had sought to have him, transferred to Washington to take the place of Paulding. Seward proposed it, and thought Paulding might be otherwise provided for, suggesting the navy yard at Philadelphia or Brooklyn, or a squadron. I did not assent to the arrangement, and the President, who saw I had some feeling on the subject, concurred with me emphatically. Seward said the subject had been brought to him by Winter Davis, — in other words, Du Pont.

I did not then, as I do now, know thoroughly either Davis or Du Pont. It was a skillful intrigue, yet it did not succeed. But the blockade, requiring a close and minute hydrographical knowledge of the coast, brought me in contact with Mr. Bache of the Coast Survey. Mr. Bache sought to make our acquaintance personal and intimate, and but for my unremitting and ceaseless devotion to pressing current duties I should have fully responded. But I had not time. I think he saw and appreciated it, and he intimated, not exactly proposed, a board to take up the subject of our Southern coast, its channels, approaches, inlets, and defenses in detail, and report to me. It struck me favorably, and Du Pont was put upon that board with him, was brought to Washington, and commenced forming a clique while reporting on the surveys of the coast. He moved with great skill, and I, being unsuspicious, was, I can perceive, to some extent deceived. But I think the ill success of the intrigue of H. Winter Davis and himself through Seward led Du Pont to the conclusion that he would not be likely to make head against me during this administration. He therefore changed his tactics, became greatly friendly and profoundly respectful, designing, if he could, to use me. To some extent he did so. Old Admiral Shubrick was his relative and patron. Mr. Fox was devoted to him, and I listened much to Fox as well as to Shubrick. Admiral Paulding, then here, was kindly disposed, as detailing officer, to second Du Pont, and Admiral Davis was his shadow. Of course with such surroundings, and with Du Pont himself, who became friendly, I think truly friendly, and almost deferential, I yielded much to his wishes and recommendations. It was early arranged that he should have a squadron to effect a lodgment at some port on the South Atlantic. Fernandina was much thought of, but Port Royal and Bull's Bay were mentioned. A division of the Atlantic Squadron, then commanded by Admiral Stringham, became indispensable, and Stringham himself, having taken offense, unwisely, at some order issued in my absence, proposed to resign just as the subject of dividing the squadron was taken up, which made the way clear for Du Pont. He took the Navy Register and made to a great extent his selection of officers. It was a Du Pont squadron emphatically. Poor Mercer, who had been his devoted friend, was detached from the Wabash, which was made Du Pont's flag-ship, and died of a broken heart. But neither Farragut nor David D. Porter were within the charmed circle. Du Pont had some jealousy, I saw, of Porter, but none of Farragut. I do not remember to have ever heard a complimentary remark of F. from Du Pont, but he evidently considered him a fair fighting officer, of ordinary standing, - not one of the élite, not of the Du Pont Navy. Of Porter he entertained a higher opinion, but he was no favorite, and, without any charge against him, I was given to understand that he was a troublesome fellow. . . .

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 2: April 1, 1864 — December 31, 1866, p. 114-9

John W. Mclaughlin

JOHN W. McLAUGHLIN, farmer and stock-raiser, living on section 30, Decatur Township, was born in Marion County, Ohio, April 24, 1840, he being the youngest in a family of six children.  His father was a native of Virginia, and was married in Ohio to Catherine Dunbar, a native of Pennsylvania.  He died in Delaware County, Ohio, in May, 1852, aged forty-eight years.  When our subject was fourteen years of age, in 1854, the mother came with her family to Decatur County, and made her home in Bloomington Township.  She is still living, her home being near the home of our subject.  John W. McLaughlin remained with his mother till 1862, when, August 15 of that year, he enlisted in Company I, Thirty-fourth Iowa Infantry.  His first engagement was at Chickasaw Bluffs, under General Sherman, in December, 1862, after which he was in line at the capture of Arkansas Post, participating in that campaign which culminated in the surrender of Vicksburg.  He then went with his corps, the Thirteenth, to the Louisiana department, and was soon after incapacitated from duty by sickness, spending several weeks in hospital and convalescent camp at Factory Press, New Orleans.  He rejoined his regiment December 25, 1863, at Mattagorda Island, near Galveston, Texas.  During the Red River campaign his corps reinforced General Banks at Alexandria, and in Banks' disastrous retreat served as guard of property and baggage.  During the closing scenes of the war Mr. McLaughlin participated in the capture of Fort Gaines and Fort Morgan, at Mobile, Alabama, and was in line at the storming of Fort Blakely, at Mobile, Alabama.  He served gallantly and faithfully as a soldier till August 15, 1865, when he received an honorable discharge, and is now a member of Decatur Post, No. 410, G. A. R.  Returning to Decatur County he was married October 19, 1865, to Mary E. Woodmansee, of Decatur Township, where her parents, James W. and Rachel Woodmansee, reside.  They have four children living — Ettie G., Ann Laura, James W. and Reuben.  Their third child, John, died aged two years.  In December, 1865, Mr. McLaughlin bought 108 acres of his present farm, in Decatur Township, forty-five acres being broken, on which was erected a comfortable residence.  He soon commenced the improvement of his land, and has since added to it till his farm now contains 215 acres of upland, meadow and timber land, making one of the best stock farms in Decatur Township, his farm being watered by Grand River.  In politics Mr. McLaughlin has been identified with the Greenback party, since its organization.  He cast his first vote for Abraham Lincoln.  He is a member of Decatur Lodge, No. 109, A. F. & A.M., and of Decatur Lodge, No. 102, I.O.O.F.

SOURCE: “Biographical and Historical Record of Ringgold and Decatur Counties, Iowa,” p. 554

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: July 28, 1863

The rumor that Gen. Lee had resigned was simply a fabrication. His headquarters, a few days ago, were at Culpepper C. H., and may be soon this side of the Rappahannock. A battle and a victory may take place there.

Col. J. Gorgas, I presume, is no friend of Pemberton; it is not often that Northern men in our service are exempt from jealousies and envyings. He sends to the Secretary of War to-day a remarkable statement of Eugene Hill, an ordnance messenger, for whom he vouches, in relation to the siege and surrender of Vicksburg. It appears that Hill had been sent here by Lieut.-Gen. Holmes for ammunition, and on his way back to the trans-Mississippi country, was caught at Vicksburg, where he was detained until after the capitulation. He declares that the enemy's mines did our works no more injury than our mines did theirs; that when the surrender took place, there were an abundance of caps, and of all kinds of ordnance stores; that there were 90,000 pounds of bacon or salt meat unconsumed, besides a number of cows, and 400 mules, grazing within the fortifications; and that but few of the men even thought of such a contingency as a surrender, and did not know it had taken place until the next day (5th of July), when they were ordered to march out and lay down their arms. He adds that Gen. Pemberton kept himself very close, and was rarely seen by the troops, and was never known to go out to the works until he went out to surrender.

Major-Gen. D. Maury writes from Mobile, to the President, that he apprehends an attack from Banks, and asks instructions relative to the removal of 15,000 non-combatants from the city. He says Forts Gaines and Morgan are provisioned for six months, and that the land fortifications are numerous and formidable. He asks for 20,000 men to garrison them. The President instructs the Secretary, that when the purpose of the enemy is positively known, it will be time enough to remove the women, children, etc.; but that the defenses should be completed, and everything in readiness. But where the 20,000 men are to come from is not stated — perhaps from Johnston.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 389-90

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Saturday, March 18, 1865

Regt on the road at 6. at 7.30 made Bon secure bayou, see great heaps of oyster shells more low ground today. they bay & gulf one place at the neck not more than 3/4 of a mile apart. Hear heavy guns all P. M. supposed to be the fleet at Mobile, move about 10 miles today. We see one happy wench, we were the first yankees she had seen. After dark a squad of 15, belonging to the Div. 2 of whom belong to our Regt get into camp. They were at Ft. Gaines Hosp. crossed to Morgan & finding their Regt gone pushed on & walked all the way from the Cove today. They report Genl. Veaches Div. coming right on & Genl Smiths Corps landing at the Cove & will start Monday The Estimate is 10000 men with us & 20000 more to follow & we expect to form junction with Steele, who started from Pensacola the 17th with between 20000 and 25000 men

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 578

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Wednesday, March 1, 1865

Raining this morning. get a pass to go to Ft. Gains to Muster. So foggy boat does not run. continues to rain by spells all day — Discharge read

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 576

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Thursday, March 2, 1865

A. M. to Ft. Morgan, at 12 M. Steamer Tamanlapas crosses, to Ft Gaines, I succeed in being mustered to date from Feb 21st 1865. Judge Ft Gaines not so good a fort as Ft. Morgan. Return to camp at 5 P. M. Regt just from Parade listening to speech from Agent of Orphan Asylum, Regt Subscribed about $5000. a brig loaded with lumber & hay was wrecked on sand island yesterday during the fog. Meet an old friend Joel Deweese of 23d Iowa

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 576

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Sunday, March 5, 1865

Morning with major Boydston to Ft Morgan to go to Ft Gaines No boat. All through fort. Near the pier & within 400 yds. of Ft. a pole which is fixed to the turret of the Gunboat Tecumseh sunk by the explosion of a torpedo, shows the watery grave of 100 brave boys, who are yet in the great iron coffin 30 ft below the surface, I mile out a smokestack sticks out of the water, a little this side the pier is the wreck of the Reb Gunboat Gaines, crippled & beached during the action P. M. in camp. Service at 3. P. M. News — 35 men of our Regt lately exchanged are at New Orleans — Col Benton of 29th Iowa, & Col Glasgow of 23d Iowa appointed Brevet Brig. Genl's by the President, Detailed tonight to take charge of fatigue party tomorrow. All experienced Rail, Road, men called for, to report to Capt Jackson. It is the purpose to make a permanent Rail Road from Ft Morgan to Navy Com & extend around the Bay to Mobile as the Army advances.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 576

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Saturday, February 25, 1865

Slept well, rained all night. At 10. a. m. start through pass, aground at 11. Brown with 4 co of our Regt passes us here. Men runing short of rations & begin to complain at 2 P. M. Small steamer Mustang comes to our relief, transfer men and baggage. Ship floats fast an hour again right in the pass abreast of Ft Powell, when she gets off Mustang runs alongside and transfers back. 3 reb deserters from Mobile come to us on Mustang. about 5.30 Ship touches at Ft. Gaines. thence to 4 mile above Ft. Morgan, at 7. P. M. disembark, march through sand 3/4 of mile to camp. on the beach of Gulf, sleep within 200 yds of Gulf, breakers Ligh & night clear, a Grand sight. 30 000 men here now.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 575

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Monday, May 25, 1863

I was disappointed in the aspect of Mobile. It is a regular rectangular American city, built on a sandy flat, and covering a deal of ground for its population, which is about 25,000.

I called on General Maury, for whom I brought a letter of introduction from General Johnston. He is a very gentlemanlike and intelligent but diminutive Virginian, and had only just assumed the command at Mobile.

He was very civil, and took me in a steamer to see I the sea defences. We were accompanied by General Ledbetter the engineer, and we were six hours visiting the forts.

Mobile is situated at the head of a bay thirty miles long. The blockading squadron, eight to ten in number, is stationed outside the bay, the entrance to which is defended by forts Morgan and Gaines; but as the channel between these two forts is a mile wide, they might probably be passed.

Within two miles of the city, however, the bay becomes very shallow, and the ship channel is both dangerous and tortuous. It is, moreover, obstructed by double rows of pine piles, and all sorts of ingenious torpedos, besides being commanded by carefully constructed forts, armed with heavy guns, and built either on islands or on piles.

Their names are Fort Pinto, Fort Spanish River, Apalache, and Blakeley.¹

The garrisons of these forts complained of their being unhealthy, and I did not doubt the assertion. Before landing, we boarded two iron-clad floatingbatteries. The Confederate fleet at Mobile is considerable, and reflects great credit upon the energy of the Mobilians, as it has been constructed since the commencement of the war. During the trip, I overheard General Maury soliloquising over a Yankee flag, and saying, “Well, I never should have believed that I could have lived to see the day in which I should detest that old flag.” He is cousin to Lieutenant Maury, who has distinguished himself so much by his writings, on physical geography especially. The family seems to be a very military one. His brother is captain of the Confederate steamer Georgia.

After landing, I partook of a hasty dinner with General Maury and Major Cummins. I was then mounted on the General's horse, and was sent to gallop round the land defences with Brigadier-General Slaughter and his Staff. By great good fortune this was the evening of General Slaughter's weekly inspection, and all the redoubts were manned by their respective garrisons, consisting half of soldiers and half of armed citizens who had been exempted from the conscription either by their age or nationality, or had purchased substitutes. One of the forts was defended by a burly British guard, commanded by a venerable Captain Wheeler.²

After visiting the fortifications, I had supper at General Slaughter’s house, and met some of the  refugees from New Orleans — these are now being huddled neck and crop out of that city for refusing to take the oath of allegiance to the United States. Great numbers of women and children are arriving at Mobile every day; they are in a destitute condition, and they add to the universal feeling of exasperation. The propriety of raising the black flag, and giving no quarter, was again freely discussed at General Slaughter's, and was evidently the popular idea. I heard many anecdotes of the late “Stonewall Jackson,” who was General Slaughter's comrade in the Artillery of the old army. It appears that previous to the war he was almost a monomaniac about his health. When he left the U. S. service he was under the impression that one of his legs was getting shorter than the other; and afterwards his idea was that he only perspired on one side, and that it was necessary to keep the arm and leg of the other side in constant motion in order to preserve the circulation; but it seems that immediately the war broke out he never made any further allusion to his health. General Slaughter declared that on the night after the terrific repulse of Burnside's army at Fredericksburg, Stonewall Jackson had made the following suggestion: — “I am of opinion that we ought to attack the enemy at once; and in order to avoid the confusion and mistakes so common in a night-attack, I recommend that we should all strip ourselves perfectly naked.”³ Blockade-running goes on very regularly at Mobile; the steamers nearly always succeed, but the schooners are generally captured. To-morrow I shall start for the Tennessean army, commanded by General Braxton Bragg.

_______________

¹ A description of either its sea or land defences is necessarily omitted.

² Its members were British subjects exempted from the conscription, but they had volunteered to fight in defence of the city.

³ I always forgot to ask General Lee whether this story was a true one.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 129-33

Diary of William Howard Russell: May 12, 1861

Mr. Forsyth had been good enough to invite me to an excursion down the Bay of Mobile, to the forts built by Uncle Sam and his French engineers to sink his Britishers — now turned by “C. S. A.” against the hated Stars and Stripes. The mayor and the principal merchants and many politicians — and are not all men politicians in America ? — formed the party. If any judgment of men's acts can be formed from their words, the Mobilites, who are the representatives of the third greatest part of the United States, will perish ere they submit to the Yankees and people of New York. I have now been in North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and in none of these great States have I found the least indication of the Union sentiment, or of the attachment for the Union which Mr. Seward always assumes to exist in the South. If there were any considerable amount of it, I was in a position as a neutral to have been aware of its existence.

Those who might have at one time opposed secession, have now bowed their heads to the majesty of the majority; and with the cowardice, which is the result of the irresponsible and cruel tyranny of the multitude, hasten to swell the cry of revolution. But the multitude are the law in the United States. “There's a divinity doth hedge” the mob here, which is omnipotent and all good. The majority in each State determines its political status according to Southern views. The Northerners are endeavoring to maintain that the majority of the people in the mass of the States generally shall regulate the point for each State individually and collectively. If there be any party in the Southern States which thinks such an attempt justifiable, it sits silent and fearful and hopeless in darkness and sorrow hid from the light of day. General Scott, who was a short time ago written of in the usual inflated style, to which respectable military mediocrity and success are entitled in the States, is now reviled by the Southern papers as an infamous hoary traitor and the like. If an officer prefers his allegiance to the United States flag, and remains in the Federal service after his State has gone out, his property is liable to confiscation by the State authorities, and his family and kindred are exposed to the gravest suspicion, and must prove their loyalty by extra zeal in the cause of Secession.

Our merry company comprised naval and military officers in the service of the Confederate States, journalists, politicians, professional men, merchants, and not one of them had a word but of hate and execration for the North. The British and German settlers are quite as vehement as the natives in upholding States’ rights, and among the most ardent upholders of slavery are the Irish proprietors and mercantile classes.

The Bay of Mobile, which is about thirty miles long, with a breadth varying from three to seven miles, is formed by the outfall of the Alabama and of the Tombigbee Rivers, and is shallow and dangerous, full of banks and trees, embedded in the sands; but all large vessels lie at the entrance between Fort Morgan and Fort Gaines, to the satisfaction of the masters, who are thus spared the trouble with their crews which occurs in the low haunts of a maritime town. The cotton is sent down in lighters, which employ many hands at high wages. The shores are low wooded, and are dotted here and there with pretty villas; but present no attractive scenery.

The sea-breeze somewhat alleviated the fierceness of the sun, which was however too hot to be quite agreeable. Our steamer, crowded to the sponsons, made little way against the tide; but at length, after nearly four hours' sail, we hauled up along-side a jetty at Fort Gaines, which is on the right hand or western exit of the harbor, and would command, were it finished, the light-draft channel; it is now merely a shell of masonry, but Colonel Hardee, who has charge of the defences of Mobile, told me that they would finish it speedily.

The Colonel is an agreeable, delicate-looking man, scarcely of middle age, and is well known in the States as the author of “The Tactics,” which is, however, merely a translation of the French manual of arms. He does not appear to be possessed of any great energy or capacity, but is, no doubt, a respectable officer.

Upon landing we found a small body of men on guard in the fort. A few cannon of moderate calibre were mounted on the sand-hills and on the beach. We entered the unfinished work, and were received with a salute. The men felt difficulty in combining discipline with citizenship. They were “bored” with their sand-hill, and one of them asked me when I “thought them damned Yankees were coming. He wanted to touch off a few pills he knew would be good for their complaint.” I must say I could sympathize with the feelings of the young officer who said he would sooner have a day with the Lincolnites, than a week with the mosquitoes for which this locality is famous.

From Fort Gaines the steamer ran across to Fort Morgan, about three miles distant, passing in its way seven vessels, mostly British, at anchor, where hundreds may be seen, I am told, during the cotton season. This work has a formidable sea face, and may give great trouble to Uncle Sam, when he wants to visit his loving subjects in Mobile in his gunboats. It is the work of Bernard, I presume, and like most of his designs has a weak long base towards the land; but it is provided with a wet ditch and drawbridge, with demi lunes covering the curtains, and has a regular bastioned trace. It has one row of casemates, armed with thirty-two and forty-two pounders. The barbette guns are eight-inch and ten-inch guns; the external works at the salients, are armed with howitzers and field-pieces, and as we crossed the drawbridge, a salute was fired from a field battery, on a flanking bastion, in our honor.

Inside the work was crammed with men, some of whom slept in the casemates — others in tents in the parade grounds and enceinte of the fort. They were Alabama Volunteers, and as sturdy a lot of fellows as ever shouldered musket; dressed in homespun coarse gray suits, with blue and yellow worsted facings and stripes — to European eyes not very respectful to their officers, but very obedient, I am told, and very peremptorily ordered about, as I heard.

There were 700 or 800 men in the work, and an undue proportion of officers, all of whom were introduced to the strangers in turn. The officers were a very gentlemanly, nice-looking set of young fellows, and several of them had just come over from Europe to take up arms for their State. I forget the name of the officer in command, though I cannot forget his courtesy, nor an excellent lunch he gave us in his casemate after a hot walk round the parapets, and some practice with solid shot from the barbette guns, which did not tend to make me think much of the greatly-be-praised Columbiads.

One of the officers named Maury, a relative of “deep-sea Maury,” struck me as an ingenious and clever officer; the utmost harmony, kindliness, and devotion to the cause prevailed among the garrison, from the chief down to the youngest ensign. In its present state the Fort would suffer exceedingly from a heavy bombardment — the magazines would be in danger, and the traverses are inadequate. All the barracks and wooden buildings should be destroyed if they wish to avoid the fate of Sumter.

On our cruise homewards, in the enjoyment of a cold dinner, we had the inevitable discussion of the Northern and Southern contest. Mr. Forsyth, the editor and proprietor of the “Mobile Register,” is impassioned for the cause, though he was not at one time considered a pure Southerner. There is difference of opinion relative to an attack on Washington. General St. George Cooke, commanding the army of Virginia on the Potomac, declares there is no intention of attacking it, or any place outside the limits of that free and sovereign State. But then the conduct of the Federal Government in Maryland is considered by the more fiery Southerners to justify the expulsion of “Lincoln and his Myrmidons,” “the Border Ruffians and Cassius M. Clay,” from the capital. Butler has seized on the Relay House, on the junction of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, with the rail from Washington, and has displayed a good deal of vigor since his arrival at Annapolis. He is a Democrat, and a celebrated criminal lawyer in Massachusetts. Troops are pouring into New York, and are preparing to attack Alexandria, on the Virginia side, below Washington and the Navy Yard, where a large Confederate flag is flying, which can be seen from the President's windows in the White House.

There is a secret soreness even here at the small effect produced in England compared with what they anticipated by the attack on Sumter; but hopes are excited that Mr. Gregory, who was travelling through the States some time ago, will have a strong party to support his forthcoming motion for a recognition of the South. The next conflict which takes place will be more bloody than that at Sumter. The gladiators are approaching — Washington, Annapolis, Pennsylvania are military departments, each with a chief and Staff, to which is now added that of Ohio, under Major G. B. McClellan, Major-General of Ohio Volunteers at Cincinnati. The authorities on each side are busy administering oaths of allegiance.

The harbor of Charleston is reported to be under blockade by the Niagara steam frigate; and a force of United States troops at St. Louis, Missouri, under Captain Lyon, has attacked and dispersed a body of State Militia under one Brigadier-General Frost, to the intense indignation of all Mobile. The argument is, that Missouri gave up the St. Louis Arsenal to the United States Government, and could take it back if she pleased, and was certainly competent to prevent the United States troops stirring beyond the Arsenal.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 192-6

Brigadier-General Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith, May 17, 1865

Mobile, Ala., May 17, 1865.

My Dear Wife:

We have news this morning that Jeff Davis has been arrested and sent to Washington under guard. It remains to be seen if Johnson has the grit to put him through, or if he is not made a lion and a martyr of, and permitted to go scot free.

I have been for a few days past, and still am, a very favored guest of Madame Octavia Walton LeVert, who has been more kind to me than words can tell. She has been friend, mother, most delightful companion to me. A very noble woman, she fully deserves the splendid encomiums that have been so freely lavished upon her at home and abroad. I have forgotten if before I have alluded to her history, that, perhaps, you are familiar with; even if such is the case, it will do no harm to again advert more particularly to your husband's friend. I have been somewhat of an invalid, and she has nursed me, and been so sweetly kind to me, that I can hardly write too much about her. So I shall make no excuse for quoting very freely from a graceful biographical sketch of her history by Mary Forrest, who edited the Women of the South, among whom she ranks her as prima donna. Frederica Bremer calls her the “sweet rose of Florida,” and she certainly is a rose that all are praising. George Walton, her grandfather, was one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, was wounded at the head of his regiment at the siege of Savannah, was a member of Congress (the first convened at Philadelphia), and afterwards held successively the offices of Governor of Georgia and Judge of the Supreme Court. He married Miss Camber, the daughter of an English nobleman, a short time before the Revolution. Madame LeVert has now in her possession many letters addressed to Colonel Walton by General Washington, Lafayette, the elder Adams, Jefferson, and other noted men of those days, expressive of their high confidence and regard.

George Walton, the second, married Miss Sally Walker, the daughter of an eminent lawyer of Georgia. In 1812, he became a member of the legislature of Georgia. In 1821, he was appointed Secretary of State under General Jackson, then Governor of Florida, and, when the old chief retired to the '”Hermitage,” succeeded him in office. He was himself succeeded by our old friend of Washington memory, Governor Duval . . . whom you doubtless remember. Here I may be permitted to say, par parenthese, that as a high compliment and one accorded to but few guests, I have been assigned to what was the private chamber of Mrs. Walton, and have been sleeping upon a bed and bedstead upon which General Jackson slept for years, and which, as a precious relic, was presented to Mrs. Walton by General Jackson while he was President.

Octavia Walton was born at Bellevue, near Augusta, Georgia, but her parents, moving soon after to Florida, her first memories are of the sunshine and flowers of Pensacola, in her own vivid words “of the orange and live-oak trees, shading the broad veranda; of the fragrant acacia, oleander, and Cape jasmine trees, which filled the parterre sloping down to the sea beach; of merry races with my brother along the white sands, while the creamy waves broke over my feet and the delicious breeze from the gulf played in my hair, and of the pet mocking-birds in the giant old oak by my window, whose songs called me each morning from dreamland.”

I quote now from my authoress. Pensacola, situated on a noble bay, was the rendezvous of the United States vessels of the Gulf Station. It was a gala time when they returned from their cruises; balls and parties at the governor's house; splendid entertainments on board the ships; moonlight excursions upon the bay, and picnics in the magnolia groves. The well-educated and chivalric officers were a large element in the society to which our author was thus early accustomed; and while yet a child she had little to learn in the way of drawing-room ease and elegance.

Amid such scenes her receptive nature seems to have absorbed that tropical exuberance of thought, feeling, language, and presence, which has made her name famous; while at the same time, an early and close relation with nature, in one of her most tender and bounteous aspects, preserved intact amid all precocious tendencies, the naive simplicity of the child, which is to this day her crowning grace.

Before the age of twelve years, she could write and converse in three languages with facility. So unusual was her talent as a linguist, that it was the custom of her father to take her to his office to translate from the French or Spanish the most important letters connected with affairs of state. There, perched upon a high stool, (she was too tiny in stature to be made available otherwise), she would interpret with the greatest ease and correctness, the tenor and spirit of foreign despatches, proving herself thus early, quite worthy of her illustrious descent.

During her father's administration as Governor of Florida, he located the seat of government, and, at the request of his little daughter Octavia, called it by the Indian name of “Tallahassee.” Its signification, “beautiful land,” fell musically upon the ear of the imaginative child; she was greatly interested, too, in the old Seminole King Mamashla, who, in the days of his power, struck his tent-pole in that ground, made it his resting-place, and called it first by this sweet name. The chief grew fond of her, and she was known in his tribe as “the White Dove of Peace.”

Octavia was never placed within the walls of a schoolroom. Her mother and grandmother, both women of intellect and cultivation, vied with each other in developing her earlier mental life, and private tutors were provided to meet the needs of her advance.

When she first was presented to General Lafayette, a long and interesting interview ensued; the young Octavia, seated upon the knee of the old hero, holding him spellbound with her piquant and fluent use of his native tongue. He then folded her to his heart, and blessed her fervently, remarking to one of the committee, as she left the room, a “truly wonderful child, she has been conversing all this while, with intellect and tact, in the purest French. I predict for her a brilliant career.” Oracular words, which the record of years have more than confirmed. But Octavia Walton did not sit passively down to await the fulfillment of Lafayette's prophecy. One great secret of her life lies in her indefatigable industry. Only by close application has she taken the true gauge of herself; brought into view every resource; into play every faculty; only thus has she become acquainted with classical and scientific studies, made herself mistress of many languages, a proficient in music, an eloquent conversationalist, and a ready writer; and by a no less fine and careful culture, has she been able in every phase of her life to evolve only light and warmth from her large human heart; to bring to the surface the best qualities of all who come within her influence; to charm away distraction, and to preserve, apart from her world woman aspect a child nature as pure and undimmed as a pearl in the sea.

. . . In 1836 she married Dr. Henry Le Vert of Mobile, a man noted equally for his professional skill and high moral worth. His father was a native of France, and came to America with Lafayette.  . . . Frederica Bremer says of her:

“It is so strange that that little worldly lady, whom I have heard spoken of as a belle, and as a most splendid ornament of society, wherever she went, has yet become almost as dear to me as a young sister. But she has become so from being so excellent, because she has suffered much, and because, under a worldly exterior, there is an unusually sound and pure intellect, and a heart full of affection, which can cast aside all the vanities of the world for the power of gratifying those whom she loves. This fair daughter of Florida, is surrounded by a circle of relatives who seem to regard her as the apple of their eye,” etc.

What I have hastily written and more hastily selected, may serve to give you some faint idea of this most charming lady. It is a good thing to have a sensible, well-educated sweet woman for one's friend, and I thank God, who has vouchsafed to me one or two such in the course of my pilgrimage.

I enclose a sketch of my friend Ransom, of whom I have written and spoken to you. I fear I weary you with long letters. I shall return to Fort Gaines to-morrow or next day. I am not very well. That terrible diarrhoea hangs on and will not give me rest. I shall never recover from that disease, which will only be temporarily palliated or relieved, and I shall pray to God to let me die at home.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 397-401

Brigadier-General Thomas Kilby Smith, April 26, 1865

Headquarters District Of South Alabama,

Fort Gaines, Ala., April 26, 1865.

I had somewhat of an adventure yesterday, and came near imitating the wise men of Gotham who went to sea in a bowl. I have a pretty little sailboat with capacity for four or five people, and the day being fair and the sea smooth, I concluded to go over to Sand Island, distant four or five miles from here, just at the mouth of the bay. With my adjutant and a crew of two sailors, I set sail about nine o'clock in the morning, and with a favoring breeze soon made my point of destination. Anchoring my little ship, I went ashore, made examination of the lighthouse, and after a stroll upon the beach, it being near noon, made preparations to return; but no sooner had I weighed anchor than I discovered the wind was dead ahead and a strong tide was beating out to sea. Nevertheless, I spread my sail, and by tacking to and fro, sought to beat up against wind and tide; in this endeavor we rounded the point of the island, and, to the dismay of my crew, soon discovered we were drifting out to sea; fortunately, we at this time had not got quite into the channel, and by bending on all the spare rope to our anchor cable, were able to touch bottom and ride in safety. It was now three o'clock, and I determined to lie down and get a nap, hoping that in the course of an hour or two, the tide, which was rushing past us at the rate of six miles an hour, would turn, and that, by the help of a breeze, we would be able to turn the point. I slept a couple of hours, pleasantly rocked by the swell of the waves, but woke to find my hopes disappointed. The tide was rushing by more furiously than ever, the wind had died away, and to make matters worse, our anchor was dragging, and we were rapidly going to sea. We had had no food or water since breakfast, and there was nothing to eat or drink on board. We had no compass, and as the lighthouse began to sink below the horizon, and the pine trees grow dim in the rays of the declining sun, the prospect was anything but encouraging. But hope came to us in the shape of a tug, that was towing a large schooner out through the channel. We watched her with anxious eyes, till she had taken the ship to the offing, and then turned to go back to the bay. She passed within some three miles of us, and we made signal with our white handkerchiefs displayed from the top of our little mast, but in vain. She steamed along regardless of our motions and went back to the bay. That hope was gone, and remembering the story of the Irish pilot, who followed the big ship night and day, till he had crossed the ocean, I determined to keep the schooner in sight as long as I could, and to that end spread sail and endeavored to get into her wake. But in vain; the wind would not blow, and the sail flapped limp. We got just headway enough to throw us into the channel and sped along towards the Atlantic Ocean about as fast as a horse could trot. Our situation was not enviable; we were out of the bay, fairly in the gulf, and the heavy rollers of the ocean tossed our frail little bark like an egg shell. We had to sit steady to keep her trimmed, and feared that if the wind we had prayed for an hour before came, we should be capsized, for she was flat-bottomed, and not in ballast. However, I kept a stiff upper lip, and directly, when hope had almost fled, discovered the tug again steaming down, towing a large ship. We now made every effort to throw ourselves across her forefoot, and not caring so much about drifting to sea, as to so change our course that we might get within signal distance, succeeded in making some way towards the approaching vessels, but again the tug cast off and returned as before. Now was really an anxious moment; one handkerchief was displayed at the masthead, the other I made the adjutant wave, standing in the prow. The pilot of the tug saw us, rounded to, and in a few moments I was aboard and my little vessel towed astern. We were picked up ten miles below Sand Island, and fairly out to sea, and, as we have been informed since, in a channel that has hurried more than one little craft to destruction. Not long since two professional pilots were drawn into and carried out to perish. But as we say, “a miss is as good as a mile,” only that the next time I go to sea I shall take some grub and some water and a compass, and “if the court know herself, as she think she do,” I shall hardly venture in a craft not much bigger than a washing tub. One is never out of danger in this world. The other day I was riding the colt, who was fractious, and cavorting around with me, jumped into a well; he succeeded in struggling out before he had reached the bottom, and fell heavily on his side with my right leg under him; of course, people thought my leg was broken, and that the beast would roll over upon me, but he didn't, and the leg was only bruised.

So I have had two more warnings that man is mortal, that as to circumstances and events he is like a thistledown wafted upon the autumn breeze, that a day, an hour, nay, the passing moment, may terminate his earthly existence; that, without note or warning, he may be summoned to the presence of his Maker, to the report of the deeds done in the body.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 395-7

Brigadier-General Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith, April 29, 1865

HEADQUARTERS DISTRICT OF SOUTH ALABAMA,

Fort Gaines, April 29, 1865.

My Dear Wife:

Your very interesting and affectionate letter of 23d March, apprising me of your safe arrival at home and of your adventures by the way, was received.

Truly, you passed through great peril and vicissitude, and are now prepared to somewhat appreciate my life upon the road for the past four years. We feel called upon to thank God whenever we graze a great danger, that is visible and tangible, forgetful that the same care is constantly over us, in the unseen and impalpable peril in which we always move. But it is well with us occasionally to look danger in the face, that we may form the proper estimate of our weakness and frailty, eliminated from God's care, while we learn that without danger there is no greatness, that in the hazardous conflicts where life is ventured, high qualities only are developed.

What canting nonsense do we occasionally hear in certain quarters to disparage mere personal courage, “mere personal courage!” We are reminded that the ignoble quality is held in common with the bulldog, and that in this essential he is our master; we are reminded that it is a low and vulgar attribute, that neither elevates nor enlightens, that the meanest creatures are often gifted with it, and the noblest natures void of it. But we may be sure that without it, there is neither truth nor manliness. The self-reliance that makes a man maintain his word, be faithful to his friendship, and honorable in his dealings, has no root in a heart that shakes with craven fear. The life of a coward is the voyage of a ship with a leak, eternal contrivance, never-ceasing emergency. All thoughts dashed with a perpetual fear of death, what room is there for one generous emotion, one great or high-hearted ambition. I congratulate you that in the presence of danger, you were not frightened, that you did not lose your presence of mind, but felt able to put forth your best powers for the emergency that might have been near.

There is very little in my life here now, that is of sufficient importance to entertain you in detail. It is five days since I have had news from the outside world, and I hardly know whether we have war or peace in the land. My health is pretty good and I am perfectly comfortable, so far as shelter, food and raiment can make me comfortable. I have abundance of fish, flesh, and fowl, and plenty of whiskey, brandy, wine and ale, though I am making very sparing use of any kind of stimulants. I have had some fine birds, snipe, peep, plover, and a splendid shore bird, the “sickle billed curlew,” as large as a barnyard fowl. Mother will remember father's often speaking of them. I miss my family, and continually regret that I had not kept you and Walter with me, for up to this time I could have made life here for you very agreeable. Here I find myself using the word “regret” again, when I well know, humanly speaking, it is better as it is. Yet, philosophize as I will, comes that increasing, unwearied desire, that is with us in joy or sadness, that journeys with us and lives with us mingling with every action, blending with every thought, and presenting to our minds a constant picture of ourselves, under some wished-for aspect, different from all we have ever known, when we are surrounded by other impulses and swayed by other passions. “Man never is but always to be blessed.”

The weather has been delightfully pleasant, an occasional storm and one or two sultry days, but I have not been called upon to dispense with winter garments and sleep comfortably under two blankets. The sea breeze is always fresh, and it is charming in the evening to ride upon the hard and perfectly level beach and see the breakers dash in surf and foam on the shore. The air then becomes perfectly pure from the ocean and is wonderfully exhilarating. The horses become so much excited as to be difficult of control, and the Captain, the best broken horse of the times, has frequently become with me wholly unmanageable. You would be amused to see him capriole and play with the waves, dashing close to the brink as they recede and advance, and rejoicing in the cool spray. But everything about me is constantly damp. My arms always rusty, my buttons dimmed and black, and the paper on which I write almost as wet as if it had passed through the water. I believe this climate would be favorable to persons with pulmonary complaints. I have been a good deal exposed, but never take cold, or if I do, it does not make itself apparent by sore throat, cough, sneezing, or anything of that kind. At the same time I must say that the atmosphere is undoubtedly malarial and no science or skill can guard against malaria.

Intelligence now comes that the rebel General Dick Taylor has asked terms of surrender, and that General Canby has this day gone to arrange, also that General Hurlbut has gone on a mission to Kirby Smith. So that this department is fast winding up the rebellion in this quarter.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 392-5

Brigadier-General Thomas Kilby Smith to Bettie Smith, April 19, 1865

Headquarters District Of South Alabama,

Fort Gaines, Ala., April 19, 1865.

My Dear Daughter Bettie:

I have just returned from Mobile, where I have been sojourning for three or four days past, and you will want some description of the city and what I saw there. You must know that Mobile, the principal city and only seaport of Alabama, was the original seat of French colonization in the southwest, and for many years the capital of the colony of Louisiana. I shall transcribe for you a little bit of history, while for its geographical position you must go to the map. In 1702, Lemoine de Bienville, acting under the instructions of his brother Iberville, transferred the principal seat of the colony from Biloxi, where it had been established three years previously, to a point on the river Mobile, supposed to be about twenty miles above the present site of the city, where he established a post to which he gave the name of “St. Louis de la Mobile.” At the same time he built a fort and warehouse on “Isle Dauphine,” at the entrance of Mobile Bay (where my headquarters now are).

The settlement at Biloxi was soon afterwards broken up. In 1704, there was an arrival of twenty young girls from France, and the next year of twenty-three others, selected and sent out under the auspices of the Bishop of Quebec, as wives for the colonists. Many of the original settlers were Canadians, like Iberville and Bienville. In 1705, occurred a severe epidemic, supposed to be the first recorded visitation of yellow fever, by which thirty-five persons were carried off.

The year 1706 is noted for the “petticoat insurrection,” which was a threatened rebellion of females in consequence of the dissatisfaction with the diet of Indian corn, to which they were reduced. The colony meanwhile frequently suffered from famine as well as from the attacks of Indians although relieved by occasional supplies sent from the mother country. In 1711 the settlement was nearly destroyed by a hurricane and flood in consequence of which it was removed to its present situation. In 1712 the King of France made a grant of the whole colony to Antoine Crozat, a wealthy French merchant, and in the following year Bienville was superseded as governor by M. de la Motte Cadillac. In 1717 Crozat relinquished his grant to the French government, and Bienville was reinstated. In 1723, the seat of the colonial government was transferred to New Orleans. In 1763, by the treaty of Paris, Mobile with all that portion of Louisiana lying east of the Mississippi and north of Bayou Iberville, Lake Maurepas, and Pontchartrain, passed into the possession of Great Britain. In 1780, the Fort, the name of which had been changed into Fort Condé, and subsequently by the British to Fort Charlotte, was captured by the Spanish General, Don Galvez, Governor of Louisiana, and in 1783, its occupancy was confirmed to Spain by the cession to that power of all the British possession on the Gulf of Mexico. On the 13th of April, 1813, just fifty-two years before the time it had been taken possession of by General Canby, the Spanish Commandant Gayatama Perez surrendered the fort and town to General Wilkinson. At that period, the population, which in 1785 had amounted to eight hundred and forty-six, was estimated at only five hundred, half of whom were blacks. In December, 1819, Mobile was incorporated as a city. Mobile is now a city of moderate size, a population of probably forty thousand inhabitants and before the war was opulent and characterized as the most aristocratic city of the South, though I suppose Charleston would dispute, or rather would have disputed, this point. There has evidently been a lavish display of money and many of the houses and public buildings are elegant and tasteful in their style and adornment. The luxuriance of vegetation in this climate gives great advantages in the adornment of the streets and grounds with shade trees and beautiful shrubs, vines and flowers. The present season corresponds with June with you, and to me it was a rare and beautiful sight yesterday to look down the long vista of “Government” street, their principal avenue through the aisle of magnolia in full leaf and bloom, the pride of China, the crape myrtle and many other trees, the names of which I do not know, but all laden with bud and leaf and flower; while in relief, the houses were wreathed with ivy, climbing roses, while the sweet-scented double violet added delicious perfume to the fragrance of countless varieties of standard roses. The people have great taste and wonderful love for flowers in the South; even the ragged urchins and barefooted little girls carry bouquets that would be the envy of a ball-room belle in Cincinnati. The streets are very broad, and have been paved with shells, but the sandy nature of the soil has caused them to disappear beneath the surface. The sidewalks are brick, as in Cincinnati. The city was like a city of the dead. The principal men being in the army, were either prisoners or had fled. The ladies secluded themselves from the public gaze. A semi-official notice from the headquarters of the rebel General Maury had warned them that General Canby had promised his soldiers three days' pillage; consequently, the people, when our troops took possession, were frightened and anticipated all sorts of enormities. Since, they have been in a constant state of profound astonishment. The drinking houses were all closed, and a rigid system of discipline has been enforced, quiet and order prevails.

While in Mobile, I was the guest of General Canby, who has taken quarters at one of the best houses. I met there in the family of the owner a fair sample of the young and middle-aged ladies of the place, and the schoolgirls.

Everything is as old-fashioned as four years non-intercourse with the “outside barbarians,” as they would style us, would be apt to induce. This in dress, literature, and conversation. You will hear that there is Union sentiment in Mobile, perhaps that not more than ten per cent, of its people are secessionists; but my word for it, that not a man, woman, or child, who has lived in Mobile the last four years, but who prays death and destruction to the “damned Yankees.”

Well, I have given you a birds-eye view of the city. If there is anything more you want to know, you must ask. In case anybody should ask the question, you may say, that there were taken with Mobile upwards of thirty-five thousand bales of cotton, over a million bushels of corn, twenty thousand bushels of wheat, and large stores of tobacco. I don't think that mother, for some time hereafter, will be compelled to give a dollar a yard for domestics and double the price for calico. You must all have new dresses. I am glad to get back from Mobile to my little island. There the weather was warm and the air close and heavy, here I have always a delicious sea breeze. It is very cool and pleasant. I have a fine hard beach as level as your parlor floor, upon which I can ride for twenty miles and see the great ocean with its mighty pulses break at my feet. I have a little fleet of boats; one, a beautiful steamer called the Laura, that had been built by the rebels as a blockade runner, as quick as lightning and elegantly fitted up, was sunk a day or two since by running on to a pile. I am now having her raised again. I have also a beautiful little yacht, a light sailboat rigged as a sloop with one mast bowsprit and jib. She sails beautifully on the wind; is large enough to carry half a dozen very well. I have just had her elegantly painted, and one of my officers is to-day manufacturing a streamer for her. She has been called the Vivian, but I am going to change her name and rechristen her the Bessie and Belle. When I get a little more leisure I shall sail in her down to the coral reefs and fish for pompino, sheepsheads and poissons rouge. Oysters now are going out of season. I am told they eat them here all the year round, but to my notion they are becoming milky. I shall now take to crabs and fish. I have been keeping Lent admirably.

You say you hope “peace will be declared.” I should be glad, my dear daughter, to see your hopes fulfilled; but peace will be long coming to our country and papa; it would do to dream and talk of, but the snake is only scotched, not killed. Our hope may rest on a foreign war, and to-day I could unite many of our enemies to march with us under the folds of our own starry banner to fight the swarthy Mexicans or the dull, cold Englishman, but without this event we must fight on among ourselves for many a year to come. God grant our jubilee may not have rung out too soon. How long will it take the North to learn the South? But these are questions, my dear daughter, not for your consideration, yet, at least. Study your books, my child, and learn to love God and keep his commandments, and when you pray, pray first for wisdom and then for strength, and if you want your prayers answered, study your books and go about much in the open air.

I send you some lines you may put away in your scrapbook and when you get to be an old lady like grandma, and have your own grandchildren on your knee, one day you may get out the old battered book and read to them what your father sent you from the war.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 387-91

Brigadier-General Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith, April 4, 1865

Headquarters District Of South Alabama,

Fort Gaines, Ala., April 4, 1865.

My Dear Wife:

As to Mobile, in my judgment, it is going to be a long siege. The general impression was that there would be a speedy evacuation, but the attack has been so long delayed, that the enemy have had full opportunity to fortify and are making a most obstinate resistance. They have filled all the approaches by land and water, with torpedoes ingeniously contrived, and concealed in every channel and avenue; so thickly strewn, that though we have picked up a large number, three fine gunboats and many lives have already been lost by them. The torpedo is made of wood, thickly coated on the outside with pitch and tar so as to be quite waterproof, is somewhat in the shape of a cigar, and eighteen inches thick, tapering at both ends, in which there is a vacuum, the middle portion being filled with from fifty to one hundred pounds of gunpowder, which is ignited through brass tubes with copper ends, by means of friction and percussion powder. They are anchored just below the surface of the water, and sometimes several are attached by strings or wire. A vessel in passing over them produces the necessary friction, and the explosion, if immediately underneath the vessel is generally sufficient to blow a hole through the bottom and sink her. These I have described, are the water torpedoes; those used upon the land are generally an eight-inch shell, that is, a cannon ball, hollow, eight inches in diameter, filled with powder and the fuse so arranged that a pressure of ten pounds will explode them. They are concealed in the sand just below the surface, and the tread of a horse's foot, or the passage of a wheel, is sufficient to explode them, or even the pressure of a man's foot if put down hard. A staff officer, riding the other day, woke up from a state of insensibility to discover himself fifteen feet from the roadway, and the mangled remains of his horse that had been blown to atoms, he, by strange chance, escaping with the temporary loss of his senses and the bruises of his fall. The immense number of these shells and torpedoes scattered in every possible place on land or in water, renders the approaches to Spanish Fort, that at present is the key to the position, most difficult, and has made the navy timid and wary in the management of their ships, while our troops on shore have found a secret foe hard to combat. Every man feels that he is literally walking on the thin crust of a volcano. We have, however, thoroughly invested the fort, the garrison of which now is supposed to number some six or seven thousand men, and will soon be able to cut it off entirely from Mobile. We shall then, I think, resort to sapping and mining, and it will become a question of time as at Vicksburg. Meanwhile, our forces under Wilson, will attack from the other side, and the result, in my mind, though far off, is not doubtful. Still, we may have trouble from another quarter. As you know, I am not one of those who have been sanguine as to the speedy termination of the war, and have doubtless, by free expression of opinion in that regard, sacrificed a reputation I might have had for a wiseacre. I think before long we shall have something from Kirby Smith, and that when Richmond is evacuated, the war will have to be begun anew. The obstinate resistance they are making at Mobile, fortifies my preconceived opinions, that are of no great value, for all is in the hands of God, who will bring these troubles to a close in His own good time. Still, you must be patient, and not expect an early raising of the siege.

I am comfortably situated at this time. I have a great deal of responsibility and a highly honorable position, if I have rank enough to hold it. All the time, or nearly all the time I was a colonel, in fact, I may say all the time I was a lieutenant-colonel, I exercised the rank of colonel; all the time, or nearly all the time I was colonel, I exercised the rank, duties, and responsibilities of a brigadier-general. And all the time I have been brigadier-general, the duties of a major-general have been thrust upon me. I have recently, as you perceive by the copies of orders I sent you, relieved Major-General Granger, and the labor, expense, and responsibility devolved upon him, now rests with me, with this difference — he had more staff and $1,200 per annum more pay. But I shall never get any more rank because I am a volunteer officer. The brevet I would not give a fig for; they are so common that they do not confer honor, and they do not, under any circumstance, the old rule in that regard being changed, give more pay.

Although in April, the weather is not yet unpleasantly warm, except in the sun; indeed, I make it a point to keep a little fire, that is a good guard against malaria. The birds, among them my old friend the mocking-bird, have come and I send you blossoms that will fade before they reach you, but will carry some fragrance from the little island by the sea that is now my home.

I have just been called from writing to receive a visit from Capt. J. R. Madison Mullany, an old officer of the navy now commanding the U. S. S. Bienville, and commanding the squadron here. He is a very gallant officer and lost an arm, amputated close at the shoulder, in the capture of these forts. A recommendation of him to you will be the fact of his being a sincere and devout Catholic, and I was pleased to find him a courteous and finished gentleman, as most officers of the old navy were.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 383-5

Brigadier-General Thomas Kilby Smith to his Daughter, March 26, 1865

Headquarters Ditrict Of South Alabama,

Fort Gaines, Ala., March 26, 1865.

My Dear Daughter:

Shall my letter to you, my sweet daughter, “rise to the swelling of the voiceful sea?” The ocean waters are in my ears continually, chafing and fretting, never by day or night one moment still. My house is close to the beach, so close, that the spray of the wave sometimes wets my window pane. The deep water is nearer to me, as I sit to write, than the little grass plat before the front door to you as you stand in the threshold. The last sound that I hear, as I turn to sleep, is the wave on the shore; the first object that greets my eye as I wake in the morning, is the wave dimpling in the calm dawn or throwing up its white caps in the freshening breeze. And all about me tells of the great deep and all its wonders. You have never yet seen the ocean, my dear child; nor much of those who go down to the sea. When its vast expanse meets your eye, you will be wonderstruck. All the day you can watch by its shore and never weary. I wish you, with your sister and brothers, could be with me to wander on the beach and gather some of the beautiful shells that are washed on the sands, and watch the breakers and the roll of the surf, and stand at evening and see the sun go down, plunging with his last dip, apparently, into the sea itself, and then throwing up his long rays like arms in agony. Sunsets at sea are very beautiful, and very suggestive of beautiful thoughts. I have got a nice little island here about ten miles long, and in the widest part about two miles. I wrote to grandma the other day that it was all covered with white sand, and that there was no vegetation save pine trees; but I was mistaken, for I have found one or two pretty garden plots, and in one of them peach trees, and lemon and orange trees, were in bloom. I have found some very old orange trees a good deal thicker at the trunk than your body, and as high and branching as any apple tree you ever saw. There used to be several families on the island, but the commandant sent them all away to New Orleans. They made a little livelihood by catching oysters and fishing for the Mobile market, and some of them burned the oyster shells into lime. You would be astonished at the great banks of oyster shells there are here, showing what a prodigious quantity of the creature is raked up from the beds, which are yet apparently inexhaustible.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 382-3

Brigadier-General Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith, March 21, 1865

Headquarters District Of South Alabama,

Fort Gaines, Ala., March 21, 1865.

My Dear Wife:

I cannot express the sorrow and chagrin I felt at being compelled to leave you and our dear little boy so abruptly. I know it must be many days, that it may be many weeks, before I can with reason hope to receive assurance of your safety, and you may judge my present anxiety. Were it not for the fact that I have schooled my mind to dismiss apprehensions for the future, I should be heartsick indeed, and whatever philosophy I bring to my aid, I shall not be happy till I learn of your safe arrival at home. I could not foresee so rapid a movement of troops or so urgent a necessity for my instant departure from New Orleans, or I should not have assumed the responsibility of bringing you down. And if anything untoward happens, my conscience will never cease to reprove me for an act selfish, if not unjustified, though apart from the pleasure of your society I hoped benefit to your health.

The enclosed orders will show my command and present address. The latter I have reason to hope will very shortly, with my headquarters, be at “Mobile.” Meanwhile, letters addressed to me as commanding District Southern Alabama, will reach me via New Orleans.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 381-2