Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 4, 1862

We go to-day, sure; that is, if reports are true. The Government bounty was paid to-day, and the oath of allegiance taken by the regimental officers, as well as the men. Every day the net is drawn a little tighter. No use in kicking now. We are bound by a bond none of us can break, and I am glad to be able to say, for one, that I don't want to break it. But it seems as if things dragged awfully slow. I suppose it is because I know so little about the many details that are necessary for the full organization of a regiment.

Night. Here yet. I wish we might go. We are all ready and the sooner we go the more patriotism will be left in us. Too much of it is oozing out through the eyes. People keep coming to have a last word, a last good-bye and usually a last cry over it. I am heartily glad my folks have sense enough to keep away, for it is all I can stand to see the others. No doubt for many it is a last good-bye. In the nature of things we cannot all expect to come back, but God is good, and he keeps that part hidden from us, leaving each one to think he will be the lucky one. To make matters worse, the change of water, food, and mode of living is having its effects on many, myself among the number, and I feel pretty slim to-night. I will spread my blanket on my soft pine board, and, if my aching bones will let me, will try what a good sleep will do, for we are of all men know not what to-morrow may have in store for us.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 14-5

J. M. Kenney to Senator Daniel S. Dickinson, September 9, 1850

WASHINGTON, D. C., September 9, 1850.

SIR—You will, I trust, excuse a stranger the liberty he takes, when he assures you that admiration of your patriotism and the wish that his children and their descendants shall constantly have your example before them, have occasioned this intrusion. I have a strong desire to possess five copies, each, of such speeches as have been delivered by yourself and a few other patriots, upon the exciting topics which have engrossed the attention of Congress during the present session. I intend to have them handsomely bound-one copy for each of my four children and one for myself.

Will you, therefore, have the kindness to inclose me five copies, as above, of such speeches as you have delivered this session, with your name in your own hand written upon the title page of each?

Thus, when you and I have passed to our final account, I cherish the hope that my children and theirs will venerate the memory and be stimulated to a greater love of the Union by the noble sentiments and patriotic example of those who, forgetting everything but their country, have so eminently contributed to its peace and safety, in the crisis through which we have just passed.

With sentiments of high respect, I have the honor to be

Your obedient servant,

J. M. KENNEY.

SOURCE: John R. Dickinson, Editor, Speeches, Correspondence, Etc., of the Late Daniel S. Dickinson of New York, Vol. 2, p. 447

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, December 28, 1862

Camp on Rappahannock River,                

Spottsylvania County, Va.,        

December 28, 1862.

The weather during Christmas has been as warm and pleasant as I ever saw it at the same season in South Carolina, but this morning it was quite clear and cold. I like the cold weather here, for we have such fine health. It is seldom that we have a man to die now. Our army was in better fighting trim at the battle of Fredericksburg than at any time since the war began, and it is still in the same condition. It does not seem possible to defeat this army now with General Lee at its head.

The Yankees are certainly very tired of this war. All the prisoners I have talked with express themselves as completely worn out and disgusted with it. Our regiment was on picket at the river a few days ago and the Yankee pickets were on the opposite bank. There is no firing between pickets now. It is forbidden in both armies. The men do not even have their guns loaded. The two sides talk familiarly with each other, and the Yankees say they are very anxious to have peace and get home.

Edwin and James Allen dined with me yesterday and said it was the best meal they had partaken of since they left home. We had fried tripe, chicken and dumplings, shortened biscuits, tea which was sweetened, and peach pie. Ed slept with me and took breakfast with me this morning. He thought my quarters very good for camp.

I have a pocketful of money now, and while there is a dollar of it left you can have all you wish. I would certainly like so very much to be with you, but it will never do for our country to be sacrificed in order that our selfish desires for comfort and ease may be gratified. It is everyone's duty to lend a helping hand to his country and never abandon his post of duty because a few who have no patriotism do so.

While I write I hear Chaplain Beauschelle preaching at a tremendous rate. He seems to think everyone is very deaf. I should prefer to hear some ludicrous old negro preacher, for that would afford me some amusement.

To save my life I cannot think of anything more to write, so good-by, my dear wife. Take good care of George.

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 39-41

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: January 1, 1864

RE-ENLISTING.

We have now entered on the last year of our soldier service and are looking forward to the end, and may it not only end our service as soldiers, but the war as well, when both sides can meet between the lines, shake hands, smoke the pipe of peace and together sign a long and lasting truce, and all say homeward bound. But I am sermonising, and however much that happy end may be desired, the indications now are that it will not be realized. For a month past our regiment has been a good deal excited. About thirty days ago orders were received from the war department at Washington, soliciting re-enlistments from among the soldiers of the old regiments of 1861. Liberal money inducements were offered, and in addition the present term of service would end on re-enlistment; the $100 bounty due at the expiration of the three years term could be drawn, together with a thirty day's furlough. Lieut. Woodworth of company H was appointed recruiting officer, but up to the present time there have been but few enlistments. We all understood the terms and all thus far have been left free to act according to their own judgment. The officers have not seemed to take much interest in it and have not used their influence to get the boys to enlist but have given advice when sought for. If a man re-enlists he has some motive for it; if he does not he has his reasons, and both may be equally patriotic. I shall not re-enlist, and my reasons are, first, I have no desire to monopolize all the patriotism there is, but am willing to give others a chance. My second reason is that after I have served three years my duty to the country has been performed and my next duty is at home with my family.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 110

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: July 25, 1862

COMPANY DRILLS. 

The colonel, thinking that guard duty and dress parades are not quite exercise enough for us, has ordered company drills in the forenoon. The company officers do not take very kindly to this, and thinking it a good opportunity to give the sergeants a little practice in drilling the companies, they shirk out of it every time they can invent an excuse to do so. 

The companies are seen out under command of the orderlies or some other of the sergeants frequently. B company moves out of the company street on to the parade ground, and after executing a few brilliant maneuvers, starts off across the fields to the Trent road, a little out of sight of the camp, and here in the shade of the trees we sit down and await the recall, when we march back into camp with all the pomp and circumstance of glorious war. The duty has been performed and everybody seems well enough satisfied, except perhaps the performers. 

PATRIOTISM SUPPRESSED. 

And now, right here under the broad banner of freedom, personal liberty and rising patriotism has been suppressed. A party of small darky boys organized themselves into a drum corps and furnished themselves with old tin pans and kettles for an outfit. Being natural musicians, they soon acquired the art of drumming, and when they thought they could make a creditable appearance before the public appeared one evening, standing just outside the guard in front of our dress parade. When the band led off down the line the little fellows commenced putting in their work, and they certainly did a good job, as they beat the time very well. But the thing was so ludicrous it was with difficulty the band could perform their part, and many of the boys in the line could not restrain their daughter. The little fellows seemed to enjoy it immensely, and would put in an appearance every evening, until the colonel finding it impossible to have a decent dress parade ordered the guard officers to suppress the amateur band, very much I presume against his inclination and feelings. 

MISS FOSTER. 

Gen. Foster has his wife and daughter with him here, which must make it very agreeable for him. Mrs. Foster is engaged in works of love and mercy around the hospitals, while Miss Foster, a young lady of some 16 or 17 years, is pretty much engaged in horseback riding and having a good time generally. She is quite a military character, as we notice that when she and the general ride past here, she always returns the salutes from the sentinels as gracefully as the general. She frequently rides past here alone, and the sentinels along the street take great pride in honoring her with a present arms, a compliment which she never fails to acknowledge by a graceful wave of her hand and her face wreathed with smiles. 

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 64-5

Diary of to Amos A. Lawrence: April 19, 1858

Anniversary of the battle of Lexington. May God give us courage to defend the liberty of the institutions which our fathers have handed down to us.

SOURCE: William Lawrence, Life of Amos A. Lawrence: With Extracts from His Diary and Correspondence, p. 148

Diary of to Amos A. Lawrence: July 5, 1858

The boys came into my room as usual, when they were dressed, to say their prayers. I prayed with them and for them, that they might always love their country, and be ready to suffer and even to die in its defence.

SOURCE: William Lawrence, Life of Amos A. Lawrence: With Extracts from His Diary and Correspondence, p. 149

George Thompson’s Reply to Professor Daniel D. Whedon, February 18, 1835

23 BRIGHToN STREET, FEB. 18, 1835.

To the Editor of Zion's Herald:

SIR — I have just read in your paper of to-day a letter signed D. D. Whedon, and headed “Foreign Interference.” I am ignorant of the profession or station of the writer. If he be a Christian man, and continue one a few years longer, he will, I believe, deeply lament the publication of the sentiments which that letter contains. Under what extraordinary circumstances of excitement it was written I cannot say. I hope it was not a cool closet composition; for with the belief that it had been written deliberately, I should be compelled to draw conclusions very unfavorable to the character of the writer's heart.

He declares it right to denounce the measures of the Papists in this country as “infamous and impertinent foreign interference;” and then asks, in reference to myself, “but with what severer epithet [severer than infamous and impertinent!] shall we characterize the man who comes to lecture the citizens of these United States upon the most delicate and most vital of all the PoliTICAL questions which agitate this distracted nation?” In other words, who comes to “open his mouth, judge righteously, and plead the cause of the poor and needy.” Your correspondent proceeds — “Did that gentleman come, commissioned from some foreign clubs, to collect meetings and nominate an American President, it might be borne with comparative patience; but to come to apply the principles of the gospel to a system which reduces to the most brutal subjection one-sixth portion of our home-born population of these United States; — which puts out the eyes of the soul, defaces the image of the Maker, and leaves the wretched victim to grope sightless and hopeless to the judgment of an equal God; — which tears the infant from its mother's bosom, and brands it as a beast for the shambles; — which converts into solemn mockery the charter of man’s rights, and all the forms of justice; — which renders null and void the holy bond of matrimony;—which denies the Book of Life to two millions, who without it are destitute of that knowledge which begets a hope beyond the grave; — which punishes with DEATH the second offence of teaching an immortal being the way to heaven: to apply the principles of eternal righteousness to such a system is a work which requires “better credentials than a diploma from any foreign Society, of whatever character or of whichever sex.” Your correspondent is “right,” and I am thankful that such credentials are at hand. Whenever your correspondent is disposed, I will, in his presence, spread these credentials before any impartial American audience he can collect, and allow him all the space he wishes to question their sufficiency, or invalidate their authority.

There is every evidence that your correspondent deems himself a staunch patriot, — so staunch that he dare not trust himself to comment upon the extensive patronage which the Anti-Slavery Association of this country have extended towards me, lest he should be “betrayed into language half as strong” as the “perpetration of such an act deserves.”

From the 57th page of the life of Richard Watson, I make the following extract. It is the language of that distinguished ornament of the Methodist body, and will perhaps show that the work in which I am engaged is as patriotic as writing unkind and violent articles against the friends of the enslaved :—

“To what, then, ought patriotism to be directed? It has secured our civil rights; it has organized our armies; it has rendered our navy invincible; it has extended our commerce, and enlarged our dominions: but there is yet one object to be accomplished, without which well appointed armies, an invincible navy, extended commerce and enlarged dominion, will add little to our dignity, our happiness, or our real strength; — I mean, the correction of our MoRALs. Immorality and irreligion as certainly dry up the resources of a nation, and hasten its downfall, as a worm at the root of the finest plant will cause it to fade, to wither, and to die. Wickedness arms God against us; and if he ‘speak concerning a nation, to pluck it up and to destroy,’ no counsels, however wise, no plans, however judicious, no exertions however vigorous, can avert the sentence — “Righteousness exalteth a nation ; and every endeavor to promote it is PATRIOTIC.”

Adopting Mr. Watson's views of “patriotism,” I plead for the liberation from hateful and unjust bonds of 2,250,000 human, immortal, blood-ransomed beings. Am I worse than “infamous” and “impertinent” for this?

I plead that the hindrances to moral and religious improvement may be removed, and the colored population, instead of “perishing for lack of knowledge,” enjoy the blessings of education, grow up in “the nurture and admonition of the Lord,” and in his fear discharge all the duties of civil, social, and domestic life. Am I worse than “infamous” and “impertinent” for doing this?

I plead that the BIBLE may be given to millions of accountable beings who are prohibited from looking into its pages. Am I worse than “infamous” and “impertinent” for doing this?

I plead for the abolition of temptations and opportunities to licentiousness, profligacy, and impurity, and the presentation of motives to chastity, honor and fidelity. Am I worse than “infamous” and “impertinent” for doing this?

I plead for the recognition, protection, sanctification and security of the marriage tie. Am I worse than “infamous” and “impertinent” for doing this?

I plead for the abolition of a practice that robs the fathers and mothers of this land of two hundred new born infants a day, and introduces that number of hapless innocents into all the pollution and degradation of hopeless thraldom. Am I worse than “infamous” and “impertinent” for doing this?

But enough. Let the Christian world judge between me and my accuser. I fear not the verdict.

I desire to register my unfeigned gratitude to God for the success which he has uniformly granted to the fearless publication of the truth upon the subject of Slavery. Our cause is advancing rapidly. Its advocates may smile upon all opposition. Any attempt to prevent the spread of abolition sentiments, or crush the spirit which is now going through the land, is as vain, (to say nothing of its wickedness,) as to attempt to hurl the Rocky Mountains from their foundations, or roll back the waters of the Mississippi. We may adopt the language of the dying Wesley — “The best of all is, God is with us.”

To D. D. Whedon I would kindly say — Take the letter you have published to your closet, your knees, and your God. Pray earnestly for wisdom, truth, and charity. Contemplate the state of things in the Southern States of the country you profess to love. Let the slave stand before you in the awful attributes of a deathless and accountable being. Reflect upon your own responsibility to plead his cause and promote his present and eternal good, — and then say, whether you have done well to seek to bring down upon the head of a stranger, and the slave's advocate, a relentless storm of popular indignation ?

I will offer no reply to your remarks on my country. They are wholly unworthy the Christian — the patriot – and the man.

In respect to the “fulness of hospitality” which you say you would “pour upon me” if I were an inactive and indifferent observer of the wrongs of the slave, — I beg to say that I am quite content to relinquish the enjoyment, and see it reserved for the “Christian brother” who can “forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those that are ready to be slain.”

Pardon, Mr. Editor, these protracted remarks. I doubt not you will follow the dictates of justice whether you insert or reject what I have written. It is not likely I shall soon trouble you again. Heaven bless your country, and send a speedy and peaceful triumph to the cause of the oppressed! “The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice!”

— “All is in his hand whose praise I seek,

Whose frown can disappoint the proudest work,

Whose approbation prosper even mine.”

Very respectfully yours,

GEO. THOMPSON.

SOURCE: Isaac Knapp, Publisher, Letters and Addresses by G. Thompson [on American Negro Slavery] During His Mission in the United States, From Oct. 1st, 1834, to Nov. 27, 1835, p. 41-4

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: July 14, 1864

We have been too busy with the raiders of late to manufacture any exchange news, and now all hands are at work trying to see who can tell the biggest yarns. The weak are feeling well to-night over the story that we are all to be sent North this month, before the 20th. Have not learned that the news came from any reliable source. Rumors of midsummer battles with Union troops victorious. It's “bite dog, bite bear,” with most of us prisoners; we don't care which licks, what we want is to get out of this pen. Of course, we all care and want our side to win, but it's tough on patriotism. A court is now held every day and offenders punished, principally by buck and gagging, for misdemeanors. The hanging has done worlds of good, still there is much stealing going on yet, but in a sly way, not openly. Hold my own as regards health. The dreaded month of July is half gone, almost, and a good many over one hundred and fifty die each day, but I do not know how many Hardly any one cares enough about it to help me any in my inquiries. It is all self with the most of them. A guard by accident shot himself. Have often said they didn't know enough to hold a gun. Bury a rebel guard every few days within sight of the prison Saw some women in the distance. Quite a sight. Are feeling quite jolly to-night since the sun went down Was visited by my new acquaintances of the 9th Michigan Infantry, who are comparatively new prisoners. Am learning them the way to live here They are very hopeful fellows and declare the war will be over this coming fall, and tell their reasons very well for thinking so. We gird up our loins and decide that we will try to live it through. Rowe, although often given to despondency, is feeling good and cheerful There are some noble fellows here. A man shows exactly what he is in Andersonville. No occasion to be any different from what you really are. Very often see a great big fellow in size, in reality a baby in action, actually sniveling and crying and then again you will see some little runt, “not bigger than a pint of cider,” tell the big fellow to “brace up” and be a man. Statue has nothing to do as regards nerve, still there are noble big fellows as well as noble little ones. A Sergt. Hill is judge and jury now, and dispenses-justice to evil doers with impartiality. A farce is made of defending some of the arrested ones. Hill inquires all of the particulars of each case, and sometimes lets the offenders go as more sinned against than sinning. Pour receiving punishment.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 86-7

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 11, 1863

Gen. Fitzhugh Lee has made a dash into Fairfax (near Washington) a day or two ago, and captured the Federal Gen. Slaughter and other officers, in their beds.

Last night one of the government warehouses in this city was burnt. It is supposed to have been the work of an incendiary traitor; perhaps in retaliation for the recent impressment of flour. Yesterday the lower house of Congress passed a resolution restricting impressments. This has a bad aspect.

The Bureau of Conscription, to-day, under the direction of Col. Lay, decided that all clerks in the departments, appointed subsequent to the eleventh of October last, are liable to be enrolled for service. Yet the colonel himself has a clerk appointed in January last.

Gold sells at $5 in Confederate States notes for one; U. S. Treasury notes are at a premium here of $2.50. Even the notes of our State banks are at 60 per cent, premium over Confederate notes. This is bad for Mr. Memminger. An abler financier would have worked out a different result.

All the patriotism is in the army; out of it the demon avarice rages supreme. Every one seems mad with speculation; and the extortioners prey upon every victim that falls within their power. Nearly all who sell are extortioners. We have at the same time, and in the same community, spectacles of the most exalted virtue and of the most degrading vice.

Col. Mattel, the former commandant of conscripts for North Carolina, who was wounded at Kinston, and yet was superseded by Col. Lay's friend, Col. August, is now to be restored, and Col. A. relieved. Upon this Col. L. has fallen sick.

Mr. Duffield, whom Col. Lay and Mr. Jacques had appointed A. A. G. over me, has not yet, for some cause, got his commission. The Secretary or some one else may have “intervened.”

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 272

Diary of Gideon Welles: Saturday, January 10, 1863

The President sent for Stanton and myself; wished us to consult and do what we could for the employment of the contrabands, and as the Rebels threatened to kill all caught with arms in their hands, to employ them where they would not be liable to be captured. On the ships he thought they were well cared for, and suggested to Stanton that they could perform garrison duty at Memphis, Columbus, and other places and let the soldiers go on more active service.

Covode called at my house this evening and wanted the President's card. Said he was likely to get into difficulty and wished his name not to be used in the matter of removing the Navy Agent which he had urged. Would himself see Chambers and advise him what to do. He expects, he says, to be candidate for Governor of Pennsylvania. Covode is shrewd but illiterate, a match and more than a match for men of higher culture, reputation, and acquirements; but I hardly think his gubernatorial expectations will be realized, though they sometimes take strange material for Governor in Pennsylvania.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

The great problem which is being solved in these days seems to be scarcely realized by our public, and really great, men. It is sad to witness in this period of calamity, when the nation is struggling for existence, and the cause of good government and civil liberty is at stake, the spirit of party overpowering patriotism. The Governors in several of the States have presented their messages during the week. Tod of Ohio exhibits a manly, wholesome, and vigorous tone, others also do well, but the jesuitical and heartless insincerity of Seymour of New York is devoid of true patriotism, weak in statesmanship, and a discredit to the position he occupies. Unhallowed partisan and personal aspirations are moving springs with him. That such a man, at such a time, should have been elected to such a place does no credit to popular intelligence or to public virtue. When Seward, himself, I think, rightly disposed, acquiesced in the debased partisanship of his friend Weed, who in spite wanted Wadsworth, the gallant and patriotic citizen, defeated, he committed a fatal error.

In the insurgent States patriotism seems extinguished, the flag and country are hated. There is great suffering on the part of the people from all the direful calamities which war can bring, yet there is no evidence of returning sense or affection for that union which conferred upon them happiness and prosperity. Greater calamities, greater suffering, must be endured.

Some things have taken place which will undoubtedly for a time exasperate the Southern mind, for they will affect Southern society, habits, labor, and pursuits. For a period emancipation will aggravate existing differences, and a full generation will be necessary to effect and complete the change which has been commenced.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 218-20

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: Monday, December 1, 1862

There is a rumor to-day that we are upon the eve of a great battle on the Rappahannock. I doubt it not.

I am sorry to see that Col. McRae, a gallant officer, has resigned his commission, charging the President with partiality in appointing junior officers, and even his subordinates, brigadiers over his head. Nevertheless, he tenders his services to the Governor of his State, and will be made a general. But where will this end? I fear in an issue between the State and Confederate authorities.

The news from Europe is not encouraging. France is willing to interfere, and Russia is ready to participate in friendly mediation to stay the effusion of blood — but England seems afraid of giving offense to the United States. They refer to the then approaching elections in the North, and lay some stress on the anticipated change in public opinion. Popular opinion! What is it worth in the eyes of European powers? If it be of any value, and if the voice of the people should be allowed to determine such contests, why not leave it to a vote of the Southern people to decide under which government they will live? But why make such an appeal to monarchies, while the Republican or Democratic government of the North refuses to permit 8,000,000 of people to have the government they unanimously prefer? Can it be possible that the United States are ignorant of popular sentiment here? I fear so; I fear a few traitors in our midst contrive to deceive even the Government at Washington. Else why a prolongation of the war? They ought to know that, under almost any conceivable adverse circumstances, we can maintain the war twenty years. And if our lines should be everywhere broken, and our country overrun — it would require a half million soldiers to hold us down, and this would cost the United States $500,000,000 per annum.

God speed the day of peace! Our patriotism is mainly in the army and among the ladies of the South. The avarice and cupidity of the men at home, could only be excelled by ravenous wolves; and most of our sufferings are fully deserved. Where a people will not have mercy on one another, how can they expect mercy? They depreciate the Confederate notes by charging from $20 to $40 per bbl. for flour; $3.50 per bushel for meal; $2 per lb. for butter; $20 per cord for wood, etc. When we shall have peace, let the extortionists be remembered! let an indelible stigma be branded upon them.

A portion of the people look like vagabonds. We see men and women and children in the streets in dingy and dilapidated clothes; and some seem gaunt and pale with hunger — the speculators, and thieving quartermasters and commissaries only, looking sleek and comfortable. If this state of things continue a year or so longer, they will have their reward. There will be governmental bankruptcy, and all their gains will turn to dust and ashes, dust and ashes!

And I learn they are without shirts in the North — cotton being unattainable. A universal madness rules the hour! Why not throw aside the instruments of death, and exchange commodities with each other? Subjugation is an impossibility. Then why not strive for the possible and the good in the paths of peace? The Quakers are the wisest people, after all. I shall turn Quaker after this war, in one sense, and strive to convince the world that war is the worst remedy for evils ever invented — and Man the most dangerous animal ever created.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 199-201

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 9, 1861

Contributions of clothing, provisions, etc. are coming in large quantities; sometimes to the amount of $20,000 in a single day.

Never was there such a patriotic people as ours! Their blood and their wealth are laid upon the altar of their country with enthusiasm.

I must say here that the South Carolinians are the gentlest people I ever met with. They accede to every requisition with cheerfulness; and never have I known an instance where any one of them has used subterfuge to evade a rule, however hard it might bear upon them. They are the soul of honor, truth, and patriotism.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 84

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: July 18, 1861

During the last ten days we have been visiting among our friends, near Berryville, and in Winchester. The wheat harvest is giving the most abundant yield, and the fields are thick with corn. Berryville is a little village surrounded by the most beautiful country and delightful society. Patriotism burns brightly there, and every one is busy for the country in his or her own way. It is cheering to be among such people; the ladies work, and the gentlemen — the old ones — no young man is at home — give them every facility. But Winchester, what shall I say for Winchester that will do it justice? It is now a hospital. The soldiers from the far South have never had measles, and most unfortunately it has broken out among them, and many of them have died of it, notwithstanding the attention of surgeons and nurses. No one can imagine the degree of self-sacrificing attention the ladies pay them; they attend to their comfort in every respect; their nourishment is prepared at private houses; every lady seems to remember that her son, brother, or husband may be placed in the same situation among strangers, and to be determined to do unto others as she would have others to do unto her.

War still rages. Winchester is fortified, and General Johnston has been reinforced. He now awaits General Patterson, who seems slowly approaching.

While in Winchester, I heard of the death of one who has been for many years as a sister to me — Mrs. L. A. P., of S. H., Hanover County. My heart is sorely stricken by it, particularly when I think of her only child, and the many who seemed dependent on her for happiness. She died on Saturday last. With perfect resignation to the will of God, she yielded up her redeemed spirit, without a doubt of its acceptance. In cœlo quies. There is none for us here.

We have been dreadfully shocked by the defeat at Rich Mountain and the death of General Garnett! It is the first repulse we have had, and we should not complain, as we were overpowered by superior numbers; but we have so much to dread from superior numbers — they are like the sand upon the sea-shore for multitude. Our men say that one Southern man is equal to three Yankees. Poor fellows! I wish that their strength may be equal to their valour. It is hard to give up such a man as General Garnett. He was son of the late Hon. Robert S. Garnett, of Essex County; educated at West Point; accomplished and gallant. His military knowledge and energy will be sadly missed. It was an unfortunate stroke, the whole affair; but we must hope on, and allow nothing to depress us.

I have just returned from a small hospital which has recently been established in a meeting-house near us. The convalescent are sent down to recruit for service, and to recover their strength in the country, and also to relieve the Winchester hospitals. The ladies of the neighbourhood are doing all they can to make them comfortable. They are full of enthusiasm, and seem to be very cheerful, except when they speak of home. They are hundreds of miles from wife, children, and friends. Will they ever see them again? I have been particularly interested in one who is just recovering from typhoid fever. I said to him as I sat fanning him: “Are you married?” His eyes filled with tears as he replied, “Not now; I have been, and my little children, away in Alabama, are always in my mind. At first I thought I could not leave the little motherless things, but then our boys were all coming, and mother said, ‘Go, Jack, the country must have men, and you must bear your part, and I will take care of the children;’ and then I went and ‘listed, and when I went back home for my things, and saw my children, I 'most died like. ‘Mother,’ says I, ‘I am going, and father must take my corn, my hogs, and every thing else he likes, and keep my children; but if I never get back, I know it will be a mighty burden in your old age; but I know you will do your best.’ ‘Jack,’ says she, ‘I will do a mother's part by them; but you must not talk that way. Why should you get killed more than another? You will get back, and then we shall be so happy. God will take care of you, I know He will.’” He then took a wallet from under his pillow, and took two locks of hair: “This is Peter's, he is three years old; and this is Mary's, she is a little more than one, and named after her mother, and was just stepping about when I left home.” At that recollection, tears poured down his bronzed cheeks, and I could not restrain my own. I looked at the warm-hearted soldier, and felt that he was not the less brave for shedding tears at the recollection of his dead wife, his motherless children, and his brave old mother. I find that the best way to nurse them, when they are not too sick to bear it, is to talk to them of home. They then cease to feel to you as a stranger, and finding that you take interest in their “short and simple annals,” their natural reserve gives way, and they at once feel themselves among friends.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 37-40

A Prayer Encored

The Newark Mercury gives an account of the anniversary exercises of a Mission School in that city, from which we extract the following:

“During the singing of ‘Our Glorious Union Forever,’ two sisters, aged four years and seven, stood on the left of the singers, both having dress and head wreaths of read, white and blue, the eldest representing the Goddess of Liberty and the other the presiding Child Genius, of the Republic. The song finished, the youngest child knelt, and folding her tiny hands offered up the following artless prayer for her country:

Oh Lord, look down from out the sky,
And hear a child who prays to Thee;
A child that loves the United States,
And every wicked traitor hates.
Oh bless our soldiers and our sailors;
George McClellan, and the others;
Our pretty flag with victory crown,
And don’t let any one tear it down,
Bless all that’s good, no matter what,
And don’t forget old General Scott.

“As the child uttered this little prayer, with all the earnestness and simplicity of her innocent nature, a breathless silence came over the audience, and in the lowest depth of every heart there stirred and trembled a gush of genuine feeling that finally burst into wild applause. – The prayer went up to heaven once more, and two [bouquets] fell at the feet of the children.”

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, May 10, 1862, p. 2