Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, Sunday, August 3, 1863 – P. M.

Willard's, Aug. 3, P. M.

It is a satisfaction to think that the President's order is the result of your father's letter, — one immediate good out of Rob's death and out of the splendid conduct of this regiment. Negroes at Port Hudson had been treated just as barbarously, but it passed unnoticed by the Administration, — they could not pass this over: I wish the President had said a rebel soldier shall die for every negro soldier sold into slavery. He ought to have said so.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 289-90

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Saturday November 23, 1861

Rode up to Captain Mack's (Regular-army artillery officer) ten miles up N[ew River] and near our old Camp Ewing. Business: To appraise under order from General Rosecrans damage done citizens by our men. Board consisted of Colonel McCook, self, and Captain Mack. Met McCook mending road. [He] said he would sign what we should agree to. Did the work and slept with Captain Mack in his new Sibley tent, warmed by a stove. A good institution, if [tent is] floored, for winter.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 150

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Sunday November 24, 1861

Rode in rain and snow, chiefly snow, down to Gauley over Kanawha and back to Fayetteville; a hard ride in such a day and alone, too. How I enjoy these rides, this scenery, and all I Saw a teamster with a spike team (three horses) stalled; got on to his leader and tried to help through; gave it up; took a pair of his socks — he had a load.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 150

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, March 26, 1865

March 26, 1865

My letter of yesterday only gave a part of the day's work. Our train went briskly up to the front and stopped not far from the little rustic chapel you saw; for there was General Parke with his Staff, waiting to receive the General and report the morning's work.  . . . Brevet Brigadier McLaughlen got taken in trying to maintain his line — a good officer. He was the one who had been five days in Boston and told me he was so tired that he thought he should go right back. A certain Major Miller was captured and sent, with a guard of four men, a little to the rear. They sat in a bomb-proof for protection and Miller did so describe the glories of Yankeedom to his captors, that, when we retook the work, they all deserted and came over with him! Then we kept on and got out at our own domus, where General Meade (it being then about 11.30 A.M.) telegraphed sundry orders to his generals; wherefrom resulted, at 12.15, the greatest bang, bang, whang, from good Duke Humphrey, who, spectacles on nose, rushed violently at the entrenched skirmish line of the enemy and captured the same, with the double view of making a reconnaissance and a diversion, and furthermore of showing the Johns that we were not going to be pitched into without hitting back.

Then there was a lull, filled by the arrival of a long grey procession of some 1500 prisoners from the 9th Corps. Really these men possess a capacity for looking “rough” beyond any people I ever saw, except the townsmen of Signor Fra Diavolo. They grew rougher and rougher. These looked brown and athletic, but had the most matted hair, tangled beards, and slouched hats, and the most astounding carpets, horse-sheets and transmogrified shelter-tents for blankets, that you ever imagined. One grim gentleman, of forbidding aspect, had tempered his ferocity by a black, broad-brimmed straw hat, such as country ministers sometimes wear — a head-dress which, as Whittier remarked, “rather forced the season!” Singularly enough, the train just then came up and the President and General Grant, followed by a small party, rode over to the Headquarters. “I have just now a despatch from General Parke to show you,” said General Meade. “Ah,” quoth the ready Abraham, pointing to the parade-ground of the Provost-Marshal, “there is the best despatch you can show me from General Parke!” The President is, I think, the ugliest man I ever put my eyes on; there is also an expression of plebeian vulgarity in his face that is offensive (you recognize the recounter of coarse stories). On the other hand, he has the look of sense and wonderful shrewdness, while the heavy eyelids give him a mark almost of genius. He strikes me, too, as a very honest and kindly man; and, with all his vulgarity, I see no trace of low passions in his face. On the whole, he is such a mixture of all sorts, as only America brings forth. He is as much like a highly intellectual and benevolent Satyr as anything I can think of. I never wish to see him again, but, as humanity runs, I am well content to have him at the head of affairs.  . . . After which digression I will remark that the President (who looks very fairly on a horse) reviewed the 3d division, 5th Corps, which had marched up there to support the line, and were turned into a review. As the Chief Magistrate rode down the ranks, plucking off his hat gracefully by the hinder part of the brim, the troops cheered quite loudly. Scarcely was the review done when, by way of salute, all those guns you saw by Fort Fisher opened with shells on the enemy's picket line, which you could see, entrenched, from where you stood. Part of the 6th Corps then advanced and, after a sharp fight, which lasted, with heavy skirmishing, till sunset, drove off the Rebels and occupied their position, driving them towards their main line. At four and at seven P.M. the enemy charged furiously on Humphreys, to recover their picket line, but were repulsed with great loss; our men never behaved better. Both Wright and Humphreys took several hundred prisoners, swelling the total for the day to 2700, more than we have had since the noted 12th of May. Our total loss is from 1800 to 2000; while that of the enemy must be from 4000 to 5000 plus a great discouragement. Isn't it funny for you to think of the polite Humphreys riding round in an ambulance with you Friday, and, the next day, smashing fiercely about in a fight?

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 323-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: August 10, 1861

Mr. Benjamin is a frequent visitor at the department, and is very sociable: some intimations have been thrown out that he aspires to become, some day, Secretary of War. Mr. Benjamin, unquestionably, will have great influence with the President, for he has studied his character most carefully. He will be familiar not only with his “likes,” but especially with his “dislikes.” It is said the means used by Mr. Blair to hold Gen. Jackson, consisted not so much in a facility of attaching strong men to him as his friends, but in aiming fatal blows at the great leaders who had incurred the enmity of the President. Thus Calhoun was incessantly pursued.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 71

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: June 27, 1862

We went in a body (half a dozen ladies, with no man on escort duty, for they are all in the army) to a concert. Mrs. Pickens came in. She was joined soon by Secretary Moses and Mr. Follen. Doctor Berrien came to our relief. Nothing could be more execrable than the singing. Financially the thing was a great success, for though the audience was altogether feminine, it was a very large one.

Telegram from Mr. Chesnut, “Safe in Richmond”; that is, if Richmond be safe, with all the power of the United States of America battering at her gates. Strange not a word from Stonewall Jackson, after all! Doctor Gibson telegraphs his wife, “Stay where you are; terrible battle¹ looked for here.”

Decca is dead. That poor little darling! Immediately after her baby was born, she took it into her head that Alex was killed. He was wounded, but those around had not told her of it. She surprised them by asking, “Does any one know how the battle has gone since Alex was killed?” She could not read for a day or so before she died. Her head was bewildered, but she would not let any one else touch her letters; so she died with several unopened ones in her bosom. Mrs. Singleton, Decca's mother, fainted dead away, but she shed no tears. We went to the house and saw Alex's mother, a daughter of Langdon Cheves. Annie was with us. She said: “This is the saddest thing for Alex.” “No,” said his mother, “death is never the saddest thing. If he were not a good man, that would be a far worse thing.” Annie, in utter amazement, whimpered, “But Alex is so good already.” “Yes, seven years ago the death of one of his sisters that he dearly loved made him a Christian. That death in our family was worth a thousand lives.”

One needs a hard heart now. Even old Mr. Shand shed tears. Mary Barnwell sat as still as a statue, as white and stony. “Grief which can relieve itself by tears is a thing to pray for,” said the Rev. Mr. Shand. Then came a telegram from Hampton, “All well; so far we are successful." Robert Barnwell had been telegraphed for. His answer came, “Can't leave here; Gregg is fighting across the Chickahominy.” Said Alex's mother: “My son, Alex, may never hear this sad news,” and her lip settled rigidly. “Go on; what else does Hampton says,” asked she. “Lee has one wing of the army, Stonewall the other.”

Annie Hampton came to tell us the latest news — that we have abandoned James Island and are fortifying Morris Island. “And now,” she says, “if the enemy will be so kind as to wait, we will be ready for them in two months.”

Rev. Mr. Shand and that pious Christian woman, Alex's mother (who looks into your very soul with those large and lustrous blue eyes of hers) agreed that the Yankees, even if they took Charleston, would not destroy it. I think they will, sinner that I am. Mr. Shand remarked to her, “Madam, you have two sons in the army.” Alex's mother replied, “I have had six sons in the army; I now have five.”

There are people here too small to conceive of any larger business than quarreling in the newspapers. One laughs at squibs in the papers now, in such times as these, with the wolf at our doors. Men safe in their closets writing fiery articles, denouncing those who are at work, are beneath contempt. Only critics with muskets on their shoulders have the right to speak now, as Trenholm said the other night.

In a pouring rain we went to that poor child's funeral — to Decca's. They buried her in the little white frock she wore when she engaged herself to Alex, and which she again put on for her bridal about a year ago. She lies now in the churchyard, in sight of my window. Is she to be pitied? She said she had had “months of perfect happiness.” How many people can say that? So many of us live their long, dreary lives and then happiness never comes to meet them at all. It seems so near, and yet it eludes them forever.

_______________

¹ Malvern Hill, the last of the Seven Days' Battles, was fought near Richmond on the James River, July 1, 1862. The Federals were commanded by McClellan and the Confederates by Lee.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 193-5

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: August 30, 1862

A package arrived last night from our sisters, with my sister [Mary's] diary, for my amusement. It was kept while our dear ones of [William] and S. H. were surrounded by McClellan's army. I shall use my leisure here in copying it, that our children's children may know all that our family suffered during this cruel war. During the six weeks that they were surrounded by the foe, we only heard from them through letters written to their husbands in Richmond. These letters were captured by the enemy, and published in a New York paper; and one was republished in the Richmond Enquirer, where we were most delighted to find it. In that way [William B. Newton], then incarcerated in the walls of Fort Delaware, heard from his mother, wife, and children, for the first time since he was captured, in March.

Mrs. [Newton’s] diary begins:

May 18, 1862

May 22, 1862

May 23, 1862

May 24, 1862

May 26, 1862

May 27, 1862

May 28, 1862

May 30, 1862

June 1, 1862

June 7, 1862

June 8, 1862

June 9, 1862

June 11, 1862

June 13, 1862

June 14, 1862

June 15, 1862

June 16, 1862

June 17, 1862

June 18, 1862

June 20, 1862

June 21, 1862

June 22, 1862

June 24, 1862

June 25, 1862

June 27, 1862

June 28, 1862

July 1, 1862

July 2, 1862

July 4, 1862

I quote no further from Mrs. N's diary, as the next page was devoted to the visits of those dear ones whom God had preserved amid strife and carnage. She mentions the return of our dear W. B. N. from Fort Delaware on the 5th of August, where he had been for several months. He asked but five days' furlough to be with his family, and then returned to his regiment, (Fourth Cavalry.) His reception by his company was most gratifying. As soon as he got to camp, it drew up in line, and requested him to come to the front, when the “Orderly” came up, leading a very handsome bay horse, elegantly equipped, which he presented to his “Captain,” in the name of the company.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 134-149

Diary of Mary Brockenbrough Newton: May 18, 1862

S. H., Hanover County, Va. C. M. and myself set off yesterday morning for church. At my brother's gate we met Dr. N., who told us that there were rumours of the approach of the enemy from the White House. We then determined not to go to our own church, but in another direction, to the Presbyterian church. After waiting there until the hour for service had arrived, an elder came in and announced to us that the minister thought it prudent not to come, but to have the congregation dismissed at once, as the enemy were certainly approaching. We returned home in a most perturbed state, and found that my husband had just arrived, with several of our sons and nephews, to spend a day or two with us. In a short time a servant announced that he had seen the Yankees that morning at the “Old Church.” Then there was no time to be lost; our gentlemen must go. We began our hurried preparations, and sent for the carriage and buggy. We were told that the driver had gone to the Yankees. After some discussion, one of the gentlemen determined to drive, and they were soon off. It was then eleven o'clock at night, and the blackness of darkness reigned over the earth. It was the most anxious night of my life. Surrounded by an implacable foe, our gentlemen all gone, we knew not how long we should be separated, or what might not happen before we met, and the want of confidence in our servants, which was now for the first time shaken, made us very nervous. This morning we went to W., and took leave of our sister, Mrs. C., and daughters. Her sons are in the army, and being a refugee, she says she must follow the army, and go where she can reach them if they are wounded. We found C. busily dividing her year's supply of bacon among the servants, that each may take care of his own. As the enemy never regards locks, she knows that her meat-house will be unsafe; we secreted two guns, which had been inadvertently left, and returned, feeling desolate, but thankful that our gentlemen were safely off.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 134-5

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: June 25, 1863

The joy of a note from Julia by Flag of Truce. Thank God! my beloved father and sister are well, and my other friends too. I wrote instanter in answer.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 167

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Saturday, July 2, 1864

All the sick have been removed to the field hospital in the rear of the army. I was brought here to our division field hospital, near Big Shanty, with a few others. Our army supplies at Big Shanty have been removed by the general quartermaster, as the army has been ordered around to the right. The Fifteenth, Sixteenth and Seventeenth Corps are leaving the left flank altogether, and are hastening to the right wing. The rebels have now left Kenesaw mountain and Marietta and have moved around to their left so as to keep our right from flanking them.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 202-3

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: July 21, 1864

The sun came up this morning bright and warm. The morning finds us in the same woods where we passed the night. A foraging party, sent out last night from our regiment, returned with flour, bacon, hams. The officers appropriated the best sugar-cured hams. Late in the night the hams were taken from the officers' mess. No one seemed to know what became of them. Officers put up a great kick, were mad through and through. Of course the boys were all innocent. Punishment was in store for the rascals who stole the hams. A fine nice piece found its way into my haversack. I did not put it there but thought I could guess who did. I did not ask any questions. It sure was good to eat.

I visited the river to take a look at the place where we crossed during the battle of the 18th. Thought it another case of mismanagement, although it did seem at times that men must be sacrificed in order to find out the plans and location of the enemy. No troops should have crossed that river at the time without being well supported. That was the way we felt about it. The bed of the river was the grave of some of our boys. Marching orders for early tomorrow morning. Hope to get a good night's rest.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 102-3

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: March 27, 1862

News came that the staff would be paid off. All went to the Fort to sign pay-rolls. Returned to dinner. Rode the Major's horse. Saw a tame buffalo. Quite a curiosity. Sergeants receive only $17 per month — a joke on their extra stripes.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 10

Major John Sedgwick to his Sister, November 17, 1860

Fort Wise, Big Timbers,

November 17, 1860.

My dear sister:

We have to-day been astonished by the receipt of another mail, and with the prospect of still another in about two weeks' time. I was disappointed in not receiving any letter from you. I am afraid that my complaining of our wanting mail facilities will discourage you from writing. When spring opens I hope, as emigration sets in, we shall have a mail at least weekly. We have had a delightful fall, dry, warm, and pleasant. To-day there is a drizzling rain, the first that we have had since reaching the post, over two months since. This is the character of all falls in this vicinity, although north and east of us they have had severe snowstorms and much cold weather. Our soldiers' quarters, and all the buildings except officers' quarters, are so far completed that they can be occupied, and two weeks more would enable us to finish all. This has relieved me very much, for I anticipated many difficulties which we have overcome, and am now at ease in regard to the comfort of the men for the winter. The last mail brought a complimentary letter from the Secretary of War, extolling our energy and perseverance. I had particularly written to Washington “that if Providence had not favoured us more than the Department there would have been intense suffering here this winter.”

The hostile Indians sent in a runner some time since, asking to come in and have a talk. I granted it, and last Sunday six or eight of the chiefs came in, suing for peace. I sent their talk to Washington, recommending that terms be granted them; what the result will be cannot be known for several weeks. I do not know what excitement can be got up now that the Prince is gone and the election over. The subject of politics loses all its savour before getting out here. It is never mentioned except when the papers come in, and then a short topic. All concede Lincoln's election, and think any change will improve upon the present one.

We have several daily papers within two hundred miles of us which get much later news than we do. I see them occasionally. With much love to Philo's family.

I am your affectionate brother,

John Sedgwick.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 26-7

William Thompson Lusk to Lou Thompson, June 27, 1861

June 27th, 1861.

Dear Cousin Lou:

Did I not promise to write you, when the time came to say good-bye? Aye, oh best of women! And now I am fulfilling my promise hastily, for in an hour I shall be on my way to Washington. You must feel with me in my happiness! At length I am judged worthy to expose my life for my country's sake. I go to join the 79th Regiment. Think, Cousin Lou, I am going to see real danger, real privation, real work — not as a mere Carpet-Knight, talking valorously to girls, but going forth in all humility to help to conquer in the name of God and my Country. Pray for me, Cousin Lou! Not for my life — I never prayed for that in any hour of peril — but pray that I may never falter, whether my duty shall lead me to honor or to death.

Good-bye Cousin. Love to Mr. Grant, Cousin Laura, Cousin Henry, the children, and all friends.

Lovingly,

Willie.

Hurrah! Off in ten minutes, so Au-Revoir here or hereafter.

_____

"Life of General Isaac I. Stevens," Vol. II, p. 321.

“For many years the Highland Guard was a crack New York City Militia Battalion, composed of Scots, or men of Scottish lineage. They wore the kilt as their uniform, and, for fatigue or undress, a blue jacket with red facings, and trousers of Cameronian tartan. At the breaking out of the rebellion, the battalion was raised to a full regiment by the addition of two companies and filling up the ranks, and on May 13th, 1861, entered the United States service for three years as the 79th Highlanders, New York Volunteers. . . .

“One company contained so many bookkeepers and clerks, that it was known as the Clerk's Company.”

Page 327. In August, 1861, “the Highlanders still wore the blue jacket with red facings, but the regulation uniform as to the remainder. Later, when the jackets were worn out, they were uniformed like other troops.”

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 47-8

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, Sunday, August 2, 1863 - Noon

Willard's Hotel, Washington,

Sunday noon, August 2d.

I found, when I reported in the evening, that I was ordered to take command of all the Cavalry in the Department (only three regiments, not very magnificent), headquarters to be at Fairfax Courthouse or Centreville.¹

Everything that comes about Rob shows his death to have been more and more completely that which every soldier and every man would long to die, but it is given to very few, for very few do their duty as Rob had. I am thankful they buried him “with his niggers;” they were brave men and they were his men.²

_______________

¹ Besides that already mentioned, other important reconnoissances, and escort duty to supply-trains, were performed by Colonel Lowell's command during July. In the end of the month, Mosby with his “Partisan” force made some very successful raids on the army wagon-trains, capturing near Alexandria between one and two hundred prisoners, with many horses, mules, wagons, etc. General King ordered Lowell to pursue, and he returned on the last day of July, with many men and horses recaptured. About the 1st of August, he was put in command of a brigade, consisting of the Second Massachusetts and Thirteenth and Sixteenth New York Cavalry regiments. The First Battalion now rejoined the Second Cavalry, after several months' service in the Peninsula.

² In the Reminiscences of Mr. J. M. Forbes (privately printed) is a letter written to him by Mr. Frank G. Shaw, just after his son's death, from which I am allowed to quote : —

“He has gone from us, and we try not to think of our loss, but of his gain. We have had no doubt since the first news came. We had expected it.  . . . We thank God that he died without pain, in what was to him the moment of triumph; and we thank God especially for his happy life, and that he did not rise to his eminence through suffering, but through joy.”

Mr. Forbes adds, “I have seen no reference yet to our late friend's manly nobility [Mr. Shaw had recently died]. Every one remembers the brutal answer of the rebels to our flag of truce, when General Gilmore, after the assault on Fort Wagner, asked for Colonel Shaw's body: ‘We have thrown him into the ditch under his niggers.’ When we recaptured the fort, an attempt was made to find the sacred relics; and the general in command, or probably Secretary Stanton, wrote to Mr. Shaw asking some intimation as to what should be done in case of their recovery, and suggesting a monument recalling the indignity which had been offered. No thought of vengeance had ever been mixed up with Frank Shaw's patriotism or clouded his serene brow.  . . . The answer which now came — I think from both parents — was grand in its . . . simplicity. ‘We wish no search made, nor is there any monument so worthy of a soldier as the mound heaped over him by the bodies of his comrades.’”

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 289, 432-3

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Friday November 22, 1861

Rode alone down to Gauley over Kanawha and Gauley Rivers, up New River, and stayed at headquarters of General Rosecrans. Always treated well there. Ate pickled oysters immoderately and foolishly; drank mixed drinks slightly but foolishly. But spent an agreeable night with General Rosecrans, Major Crawford, and Captain Reynolds and Major Jos. Darr. Good men all. Cold, desperately windy night; slept coldly in Captain Hartsuff's tent.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 150

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, March 25, 1865

March 25, 1865

We may indeed call this a many-sided field-day: a breakfast with a pleasure party, an assault and a recapture of an entrenched line, a review by the President of a division of infantry, and sharp fighting at sundry points of a front of eighteen miles! If that is not a mixed affair, I would like to know what is? It has been a lucky day, for us; and the 9th Corps, after patient waiting for eight months, have played the game of the “Mine” against their antagonists. The official despatches will give you the main facts very well, but I can add some particulars. About daylight, the enemy having massed three divisions and a part of a fourth, made a sudden rush and carried Fort Stedman and about half a mile of line commanded by it. The garrisons of the forts on either side stood firm, however, and repelled a severe attack with much injury to the enemy. Meantime, General Parke had ordered that the works should be retaken, if it cost every man in the Corps; and all the scattered regiments immediately at hand were put in and checked a further advance, until General Hartranft (I'm not sure about the spelling of his name) brought up the 3d division, which had been camped in reserve. He personally led in one brigade of it, with conspicuous gallantry, retook the whole portion lost, and captured, at one swoop, 1800 Rebels. It was just the “Mine,” turned the other way: they got caught in there and could not get out. Their loss also in killed and wounded must have been severe, not only from musketry, but also from canister, which was thrown into a ravine by which they retreated. Upwards of a hundred Rebel dead lay in and round Fort Stedman alone. Our own losses in the 9th Corps will be somewhat over 800, half of whom may be reckoned prisoners, taken in the first surprise. I should guess the loss of their opponents as not less than 2600.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 322-3

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: August 9, 1861

Gen. Magruder commands on the Peninsula. President Tyler had a villa near Hampton, which the Yankees despoiled in a barbarous manner. They cut his carpets, defaced the pictures, broke the statues, and made kindling wood of the piano, sofas, etc.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 71

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: June 25, 1862

I forgot to tell of Mrs. Pickens's reception for General Hampton. My Mem dear, described it all. “The Governess “ (“Tut, Mem! that is not the right name for her — she is not a teacher.” “Never mind, it is the easier to say than the Governor's wife.” “Madame la Gouvernante” was suggested. “Why? That is worse than the other!”) “met him at the door, took his crutch away, putting his hand upon her shoulder instead. “That is the way to greet heroes,” she said. Her blue eyes were aflame, and in response poor Wade smiled, and smiled until his face hardened into a fixed grin of embarrassment and annoyance. He is a simple-mannered man, you know, and does not want to be made much of by women.

The butler was not in plain clothes, but wore, as the other servants did, magnificent livery brought from the Court of St. Petersburg, one mass of gold embroidery, etc. They had champagne and Russian tea, the latter from a samovar made in Russia. Little Moses was there. Now for us, they have never put their servants into Russian livery, nor paraded Little Moses under our noses, but I must confess the Russian tea and champagne set before us left nothing to be desired. “How did General Hampton bear his honors?” “Well, to the last he looked as if he wished they would let him alone.”

Met Mr. Ashmore fresh from Richmond. He says Stonewall is coming up behind McClellan. And here comes the tug of war. He thinks we have so many spies in Richmond, they may have found out our strategic movements and so may circumvent them.

Mrs. Bartow's story of a clever Miss Toombs. So many men were in love with her, and the courtship, while it lasted, of each one was as exciting and bewildering as a fox-chase. She liked the fun of the run, but she wanted something more than to know a man was in mad pursuit of her; that he should love her, she agreed, but she must love him, too. How was she to tell? Yet she must be certain of it before she said “Yes.” So, as they sat by the lamp she would look at him and inwardly ask herself, “Would I be willing to spend the long winter evenings forever after sitting here darning your old stockings?” Never, echo answered. No, no, a thousand times no. So, each had to make way for another.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 192-3

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: August 29, 1862

The Richmond papers of yesterday mention two severe skirmishes on the Rappahannock within a week The enemy are retreating through Culpeper, Orange, etc., and our men are driving them on. General Jackson has reached Warrenton. Burnside's army is said to be near Fredericksburg, and Pope retreating towards Manassas. The safe situation of this town makes it a city of refuge to many. Several of our old friends are here. Mr. and Mrs. Dixon, of Alexandria, are just across the passage from us; the Irwins are keeping house, and Mrs. Charles Minor is boarding very near us. This evening our friends the S's arrived. None but persons similarly situated can know the heartfelt pleasure of meeting with home friends, and talking of home scenes — of going back, as we did this evening, to the dear old times when we met together in our own parlours, with none to make us afraid. We see very little of Lynchburg society, but in this pleasant boarding-house, with refugee society, we want nothing more. The warmest feelings of my heart have been called forth, by meeting with one of the most intimate friends of my youth — now Mrs. Judge Daniel. We met the other day in the church-door, for the first time for many, many years. Time has done its work with us both, but we instantly recognized each other. Since that time, not a day has passed without some affectionate demonstration on her part towards us. At her beautiful home, more than a mile from town, I found her mother, my venerable and venerated friend Mrs. Judge Cabell, still the elegant, accomplished lady, the cheerful, warm-hearted, Christian Virginia woman. At four-score, the fire kindles in her eye as she speaks of our wrongs. “What would your father and my husband have thought of these times,” she said to me — “men who loved and revered the Union, who would have yielded up their lives to support the Constitution, in its purity, but who could never have given up their cherished doctrines of State rights, nor have yielded one jot or tittle of their independence to the aggressions of the North?” She glories in having sons and grandsons fighting for the South. Two of the latter have already fallen in the great cause; I trust that the rest may be spared to her.

I see that the Northern papers, though at first claiming a victory at “Cedar Run,” now confess that they lost three thousand killed and wounded, two generals wounded, sundry colonels aid other officers. The Times is severe upon Pope — thinks it extraordinary that, as he knew two days before that the battle must take place, he did not have a larger force at hand; and rather “strange” that he should have been within six miles of the battle-field, and did not reach it until the fight was nearly over! They say, as usual, that they were greatly outnumbered! Strange, that with their myriads, they should be so frequently outnumbered on the battle-field! It is certain that our loss there was comparatively very small; though we have to mourn General Winder of the glorious Stonewall Brigade, and about two hundred others, all valuable lives.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 132-4