John L. Motley to Mary Lothrop Motley, February 16, 1862

Vienna, February 16, 1862.

My Darling Mary: You complain of not getting letters often enough, and you think I might write more than I do. But, my dear child, you must remember how little of interest we have to speak to you about, and how many correspondents. I have this moment counted the letters lying unanswered on my table. There are seventeen. And yet I write letters all day long. I do not complain, for I am so greedy to receive letters from America that I am very willing to do my part in the correspondence. You are where all our interests and all our thoughts are. Here, when I have told you that your mama and Lily and I are well, and that Susie was jolly by the last accounts, I have said all. Our life is very humdrum. Once in a while we dine out, not very often, and the dinner is not an institution as in London. The hour is generally five, and it is all over by seven, for that is the hour at which the theater begins, and everybody thinks it necessary to go, or to make believe to go, either to the opera or the theater. Both these houses are very small for a large town, and all the boxes are taken by the season, so that it is only when some of our friends send us a box that we can go. In self-defense, when the season for hiring arrives, we must take one.

The opera-house is tolerably good, the singing so-so. The theater, the Burg Theater, as it is called, because it makes part of the imperial castle or palace, is the funniest, shabbiest ramshackle old place you can imagine. The chandelier would hardly give sufficient light for an ordinary saloon. There are two little rows of about a dozen oil-lamps in it, and one with a few more. Yon can hardly see across the house, although it is very narrow and as straight as an omnibus. All your friends and acquaintances are in the boxes, and you can just discern their noble features glimmering through the darkness. En revanche, the acting is excellent. Every part is well sustained in comedy and farce, and there are one or two rather remarkable actors. I have not yet seen a tragedy; we are sufficiently dismal in the world without weeping over fictitious woes. On the whole, there is something to my mind rather aristocratic and imperial in this very shabby, dingy little theater, with its admirable acting, with its boxes filled with archdukes and princes and ambassadors. You can have gorgeously gilt, brand-new theaters anywhere in Paris or Buffalo, but you would find it difficult to find so select a set of actors and spectators.

Lily has been to a few balls, all that have been given; the picnics, five of them — subscription assemblies, like Almack's or Papanti's. The last one, the most brilliant of the season, at Marquis Pallavicini's, she lost, because it was on a Sunday. To-morrow night we go to one at Prince Schwarzenberg's, which will be very fine, I doubt not, and, as they say, the last of the season. You see we do not lead very dissipated lives. We take the deepest interest in American affairs. In truth, we never think or talk of anything else.

Your loving

Papa.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 237-9

Dr. Oscar De Wolf to Sarah Hathaway Forbes, July 9, 1862

Hilton Head, South Carolina,

July 9, 1862.

My Dear Mrs. Forbes, — Your box reached us safely this morning. A steamer leaves for New York in two hours, and I make haste to tell you how much I wish that every regiment in the service had a Mrs. Forbes to look after its hospital department.

When the doctors began to look around after the engagement at James Island, they found themselves destitute of a great many things they needed to make their wounded comfortable. The cavalry regiment had more material suited to the occasion than any other five regiments in the expedition. Our chests and boxes were opened wide, and our reputation as always looking out for No. 1 was never less selfishly exhibited. The credit does not belong to us, but more than to any one else, to you. I have written Lieutenant Forbes to-day telling him of the boxes we have received, and begging him to thank you for us. Without seeing it personally one cannot imagine how much the want of such material embarrasses an army on the march or the field. At best, men must suffer a great deal; but without constant attention to the clothing, bedding, and dressing of the sick and wounded, their condition is terrible. At present we have need of nothing. The fifty sheets you have sent us have made our measure full; those we wanted; the rest will be packed away against our time of need. . . .

SOURCE: Sarah Forbes Hughes, Letters and Recollections of John Murray Forbes, Volume 1, p. 322-3

John Brown to Mary Ann Day Brown, March 6, 1857

Hartford, Conn., March 6, 1857.

Dear Wife, — I enclose with this a letter from Owen, written me from Albany. He appeared to be very much depressed before he left me; but there was no possible misunderstanding between us that I knew of. I did not pay Samuel Thompson all that I ought to have given him for carrying us out, and wish you would make it up to him, if you can well, out of what I have sent you. If you get hay of him, I will send or, fetch the money soon to pay for it. I shall send you some newspapers soon to let you see what different stories are told of me. None of them tell things as I tell them. Write me, care of the Massasoit House, Springfield, Mass.

Your affectionate husband,

John Brown.

SOURCE: Franklin B. Sanborn, The Life and Letters of John Brown, p. 374-5

Captain Charles Fessenden Morse, September 1, 1862

Bivouac Between

Centreville And Bull Run,

September 1, 1862.

We have been moving around for the last two days in about the same style as heretofore. Yesterday morning, we were routed out early and marched, by a very wide detour, thirteen miles to this place, the enemy having pushed a large force between us and our main body. We were fortunate to get off as safely as we did, as the enemy came into our old camp as the rear of our column moved out of it. We had to destroy a railroad train nearly a mile long, to prevent its falling into their hands. There was any quantity of clothing, hospital stores and nice things furnished by the Sanitary Commission, on board; all these were burned. I can't learn anything about what has taken place the last few days; I only know we have been fighting severely. I judge, by our movements, that our left has been driven back. We have passed over two battle-fields in our marches; one of them covered some of the old Bull Run ground. We passed yesterday some of the winter quarters of the rebels. Their houses looked very comfortable, but of all dreary places on the face of the globe, I cannot imagine a drearier one than the Plain of Manassas. For miles and miles, almost to the Rappahannock, these great rolling plains extend, some times covered with woods, but mostly with high, coarse weeds and rank grass. There is very little population, only a house here and there at intervals of a mile or more.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 84-5

Major Wilder Dwight to Elizabeth White Dwight, October 13, 1861

pleasant Hill, Maryland, October 13, 1861.

Dear Mother, — Opie mixed his colors “with brains, sir,” and with brains we have just done a clever thing near Hatteras. Let us keep the brains at work. As for our own thoughts, they were excited this morning by an order for “two days” cooked rations in the haversack, and to [“]hold ourselves in readiness to march.” So we hold ourselves serenely and with content, but I do not fear any immediate action. At last, however, with all this cry, the wolf must come.

The paymaster has been here, and went off yesterday, leaving Uncle Sam's paper money behind, instead of gold as before. . . . .

It is a bright and gusty day, and our hillside exposure gives us the full front to the wind. I sit in my tent, this Sunday morning, and keep warm over a pan of coals.

I was amused, the other day, at an incident of my drive with Colonel Batchelder. We came across a bright-eyed little boy on the road, his pockets bursting with chestnuts, and stopped and took him in, levying on his chestnuts. I asked him if he was for the Union. “Yes,” said he, with a bright twinkle, “that I am.” “Why?” said I. “O,” said he, “that old flag has stood too long to be pulled down now.” I thought that, for a Maryland boy's reason, was a pretty good one I am quite anxious to get my buffalo-robe, which Spiegel was obliged to leave in Washington, as the coach would not bring it. The weather is growing colder every day, as it seems. But then we have the cheerful confidence that we are serving our country, you know, which takes the chill off.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 115-6

Major-General John Sedgwick to his Sister, February 17, 1864

February 17, 1864.

My dear sister:

I received your last letter three days since. It is not often that I allow one of your letters to lie so long unanswered. General Meade has returned and resumed command. This has relieved me from some anxiety and a daily ride of some miles, but, what 1 dislike still more, looking over papers, sometimes called “red-tapism.” The weather for the last few days has been delightful and the roads quite good, but yesterday there was quite a snow-storm, clearing off cold.

We hear that there is to be a reorganization of this army, probably for the purpose of getting rid of some obnoxious Generals. I shall not be sorry to hear that I am one of them. I feel that I have done my part of field duty, although my health is quite good. A few weeks' rest would be beneficial, and I could even leave altogether without many regrets. With much love,

I am, as ever,

Your affectionate brother,

J. S.

I have sent by express to-day a scroll of parchment with list of names, etc., to go with the sword. I had it directed to West Cornwall.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 174-5

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: January 31, 1862

Camp Union – Inspection day. Good weather until dark when a rain “set in.” Had a review and inspection. Satisfactory. Cannon firing with a new brass six-pounder, cast by Greenwood. First two shots four hundred and fifty yards, plumb in line, two and one-half feet below the centre of the target. At parade, had practice in musket firing — six rounds — eight hundred shots. Put one hundred and fifty-four balls in a board five feet high by twenty inches broad — one hundred yards. Very good. A jolly evening. Read the letters in the 27th and 28th Commercials to Avery, Bottsford, Captain Moore, Dr. Webb, etc.; then a talk and laugh at campaign jokes. Colonel Scammon returned from Raleigh; thinks the mud too deep for forward movements for a month or six weeks.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 197

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 18, 1862

Gen. L P. Walker, the first Secretary of War, is assigned to duty in the Southwest under Gen. Bragg. How can he obey the orders of one who was so recently under his command? I think it probable he will resign again before the end of the campaign.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 105-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 19, 1862

There has been a storm on the coast, sinking some of the enemy's ships. Col. Allen, of New Jersey, was lost. He was once at my house in Burlington, and professed to be friendly to the Southern cause. I think he said he owned land and slaves in Texas.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 106

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 20, 1862

Mr. Memminger advertises to pay interest on certain government bonds in specie. That won't last long. He is paying 50 per cent. premium in treasury notes for the specie, and the bonds are given for treasury notes. What sort of financiering is this?

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 106

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 21, 1862

A great number of Germans and others are going to Norfolk, thinking, as one remarked, if they can't go to the United States the United States will soon come to them. Many believe that Burnside will get Norfolk. I think differently, but I may be mistaken.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 106

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 22, 1862

Some of the letter-carriers' passports from Mr. Benjamin, which have the countenance of Gen. Winder, are now going into Tennessee. What is this for? We shall see.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 106

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: September 21, 1864

Went with Mrs. Rhett to hear Dr. Palmer. I did not know before how utterly hopeless was our situation. This man is so eloquent, it was hard to listen and not give way. Despair was his word, and martyrdom. He offered us nothing more in this world than the martyr's crown. He is not for slavery, he says; he is for freedom, and the freedom to govern our own country as we see fit. He is against foreign interference in our State matters. That is what Mr. Palmer went to war for, it appears. Every day shows that slavery is doomed the world over; for that he thanked God. He spoke of our agony, and then came the cry, “Help us, O God! Vain is the help of man.” And so we came away shaken to the depths.

The end has come. No doubt of the fact. Our army has so moved as to uncover Macon and Augusta. We are going to be wiped off the face of the earth. What is there to prevent Sherman taking General Lee in the rear? We have but two armies, and Sherman is between them now.¹

_______________

¹ During the summer and autumn of 1864 several important battles had occurred. In addition to the engagements by Sherman's army farther south, there had occurred in Virginia the battle of Cold Harbor in the early part of June; those before Petersburg in the latter part of June and during July and August; the battle of Winchester on September 19th, during Sheridan's Shenandoah campaign, and the battle of Cedar Creek on October 19th.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 326-7

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: May 27, 1863

The news from Vicksburg by the morning's papers is very delightful, if authentic. We pause for confirmation of it. The young people among the villagers and refugees have been amusing themselves, during the past two evenings, with tableaux. I am too old to enjoy such things in these troubled times, but one picture I regretted not seeing. It represented the young Confederacy. The whole bright galaxy was there—South Carolina in scarlet, restive and fiery; Virginia, grave and dignified, yet bright with hope, seemed to be beckoning Kentucky on, who stood beyond the threshold, her eyes cast down with shame and suffering; Maryland was at the threshold, but held back by a strong hand; all the rest of the fair sisters were there in their appropriate places, forming a beautiful picture.

I am amused to see how the Democrats of the North are speechifying and exciting themselves about the arrest of Vallandigham, and how Lincoln will soon make them back down.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 217-8

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: May 28, 1863

Hospital day. The wounded cheerful and doing well. I read, distributed books, and talked with them. They are always ready to be amused, or to be instructed. I have never but in one instance had an unpleasant word or look from any whom I endeavoured to treat with kindness in any way. Bible reading is always kindly received. J. J. has returned home, as usual much interested in hospital work.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 218

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: June 1, 1863

L. and B. went up to Mr. Marye's near Fredericksburg to-day, to visit their brother's grave. They took flowers with which to adorn it. It is a sweet, though sad office, to plant flowers on a Christian's grave. They saw my sister, who is there, nursing her wounded son.

News from Vicksburg cheering.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 218

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: June 5, 1863

Our household circle has been broken to-day, by Mrs. S. and her daughter B. leaving it for South Carolina. We are grieved to give them up.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 218

Lieutenant Francis H. Wigfall to Louise Wigfall, May 2, 1863

We have had a glorious fight this afternoon. Drove the Yankees from the start and kept them going as fast as we could follow until dark. Major Beckham and Capt. Breathed and I were with my Howitzer which was the first piece of Artillery fired. The fight began about half past five. The first shot the Yankee Artillery fired was a spherical case: one of the bullets struck me on the arm. It was however, entirely spent. Three of our pieces and one of McGregor's were the only ones of the Horse Artillery engaged. I wrote last night, but don't know whether you got it. Don't look to hear from me until the fighting is over, for there are no mails. It is all mere chance as to getting a letter to you. Out of our three pieces we only lost one man. He was killed. I write by moonlight on a limber chest and on Yankee paper. Our men in the highest possible spirits. Everything is bright.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 129-30

Louise Wigfall to Lieutenant Francis H. Wigfall, May 15, 1863

richmond, May 15th.

. . . Lieut. J. called to see Mama and delivered both the letter and the overcoat. The letter was by far the most welcome of the two, as we had heard so little from you since the battle.  . . . Though your first letter written by moonlight on a limber chest was the most romantic, the last was by far the most satisfactory and interesting.

Hood's Division passed through several days ago and we girls had our usual fun, waving, &c, &c. Quantities of prisoners, thousands at a time, have passed also. 3,000 went through on the day that General Jackson's funeral took place. Quite a misfortune happened last night in the way of the Tredegar Iron Works taking fire — or being set on fire as some people believe by Yankee spies. Genl. Anderson they say has lost an immense amount of money and it will seriously retard the making of arms. Mama is thinking of leaving town Monday, for what destination she does not know. She and Papa both think it useless to wait in Richmond for information of a pleasant locality, so they have determined to get on the cars and travel till they come to some agreeable stopping place. They will then write me of their whereabouts and I will join them, as soon as my examinations will be over, which will be the end of June. There is no news of any sort at present in Richmond. Everything jogs on as usual — and the devotees of the Capitol and Franklin St. take their usual promenades, and with the exception of a new face now and then, and a little variation in the way of stars and gold lace, all is the same as when you were here last winter. Richmond is looking beautifully just at present but in a few weeks the heat and dust will have become intolerable.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 130-1

Diary of Sarah Morgan: July 21, 1862

It is impossible to discover the true story of last night's alarm. Some say it was a gang of negroes who attacked the pickets in revenge for having been turned out of the Garrison; others say it was a number of our soldiers who fired from the bushes; and the most amusing story is that they took alarm at an old white horse, which they killed, mistaking him for the Confederates. One regiment has refused to do picket duty; and the story runs among these poor soldiers that our army, which is within a mile, is perfectly overwhelming. The excitement still continues.

I have been writing to the Brunots the news confirming the death of McClellan, the surrender of his army, and the good tidings of our Ram's recent exploits above Vicksburg, and her arriving safely under the guns there. If we could keep all the dispatches that have passed between us since the battle of the forts, what a collection of absurdity and contradiction it would be! “Forts have been taken.” “Their ships have passed; forts safe; Yankees at our mercy.” “Ships at New Orleans. City to be bombarded in twelve hours.” “Forts surrendered.” “City under British protection.” “No, it isn't.” “City surrendered.” “Mistake.” “Baton Rouge to be burned when Yankee ships come.” And soon, sometimes three times a day, each dispatch contradicting the other, and all equally ridiculous.

The crowd here seems to increase. The streets are thronged with the military, and it will soon be impossible to go even to Mrs. Brunot's, which will be a great privation to me.  . . . Five thousand are to come next week, and then it will really be impossible to go in the streets.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 123-4