Diary of Gideon Welles: Sunday, April 12, 1863

An intense and anxious feeling on all hands respecting Charleston. Went early to the Department. About 11 A.M. a dispatch from the Navy Yard that the Flambeau had not arrived. The President and Stanton came in a little after noon and waited half an hour, but it was then reported the Flambeau was not yet in sight. I came home much dejected. Between 2 and 3 P.M. Commander Rhind of the Keokuk, Upshur, and Lieutenant Forrest called at my house with dispatches from Du Pont. They were not very full or satisfactory, — contained no details. He has no idea of taking Charleston by the Navy. In this I am not disappointed. He has been coming to that conclusion for months, though he has not said so. The result of this demonstration, though not a success, is not conclusive. The monitor vessels have proved their resisting power, and, but for the submarine obstructions, would have passed the forts and gone to the wharves of Charleston. This in itself is a great achievement.

Went to the Executive Mansion. Read the dispatches to and had full conversation with the President. Sumner came in and participated.

Rhind, an impulsive but brave and rash man, has lost all confidence in armored vessels. When he took command of the Keokuk his confidence was unbounded. His repulse and the loss of his vessel have entirely changed his views. It was, I apprehend, because of this change and his new appointment to armored vessels that he was sent forward with dispatches. He has, I see, been tutored. Thinks wooden vessels with great speed would do as well as ironclads. I agreed that speed was valuable, but the monitors were formidable. In this great fight the accounts speak of but a single man killed and some ten or twelve wounded. What wooden or unarmored vessels could have come out of such a fight with so few disasters. No serious injury happened to the flagship, the Ironsides, which, from some accident, did not get into the fight. We had expected Du Pont and the ironclads would pass Sumter and the forts and receive their fire, but not stop to encounter them.

Du Pont has been allowed to decide for himself in regard to proceedings, has selected, and had, the best officers and vessels in the service, and his force is in every respect picked and chosen. Perhaps I have erred in not giving him orders. Possibly the fact that he was assured all was confided to him depressed and oppressed him with the responsibility, and has prevented him from telling me freely and without reserve his doubts, apprehensions. I have for some time felt that he wanted the confidence that is essential to success. His constant call for more ironclads — for aid — has been a trial. He has been long, very long, getting ready, and finally seems to have come to a standstill, so far as I can learn from Rhind, who is, if not stampeded, disgusted, demoralized, and wholly upset. It is not fear, for he has courage, — to daring, to rashness, — and his zeal, temperament, and ardor are by nature enthusiastic. But these qualities are gone. Why Du Pont should have sent him home to howl, or with a howl, I do not exactly understand. If it was to strengthen faith in himself and impair faith in the monitors the selection was well made. Rhind had too much confidence in his vessel before entering the harbor, and has too little in any vessel now.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 267-9

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: April 1, 1864

My diary has been somewhat neglected, for after looking over commissary accounts for six hours in the day, and attending to home or hospital duties in the afternoon, I am too much wearied to write much at night. There are reports of movements in the armies which portend bloody work as the season advances. Oh that the Lord may have us in his holy keeping!

We continue quite comfortable at home. Of course provisions are scarce; but, thanks to our country friends and relatives, we have never been obliged to give up meat entirely. My brother-in-law, Mr. N[ewton], has lately sent us twelve hams, so that we are much better supplied thau most persons. Groceries are extremely high. We were fortunate in buying ten pounds of tea, when it only sold for $22 per pound. Coffee now sells for $12, and brown sugar at $10 per pound. White sugar is not to be thought of by persons of moderate means. Milk is very scarce and high, so that we have only had it once for many months; and we, the Colonel, Mr. ––––, and myself, are very glad to get a cup of tea, night and morning, sweetened with brown sugar, and without milk or cream. Before the war we would have scorned it, but now we enjoy it exceedingly, and feel ourselves very much blessed to have it. The girls have given up tea and coffee; I attempted to do it, and for several days drank only water, but such is the effect of habit upon old people, it made me perfectly miserable; I lost my elasticity of spirit; the accounts in the office went on heavily, everybody asked me if I had heard any bad news, and the family begged me not to look so unhappy. I struggled and strived against the feeling, but the girls pronounced me utterly subjugated, and insisted on my returning to my old beverage. I found myself much more easily persuaded than it is my wont to be, and was happy to resume my brown-sugar tea without cream.

On going down-stairs this evening, I found my friend Mrs. Upshur awaiting me in the parlour. She is the widow of the Hon. Abel P. Upshur, Secretary of War in Mr. Tyler's administration, whose untimely end we remember so well. She is a refugee from Washington, and called to ask me to assist her in finding a room to accommodate herself, her sister, and her little grandson. Her present room, in the third story of a very nice house, suited her very well, but the price was raised every month, until it had become beyond her means. She is rich, but it is almost impossible for her to get funds from Washington. To obtain a room is a most difficult task, but I cheerfully promised her to do what I could; but that I must first go up the street to get some flour, for as it was $300 per barrel, we could not get one, but must purchase it at $1.25 per pound, until we could get some wheat, which we were then expecting from the country, and have it ground. She at once insisted on lending me flour until ours was ground; this being agreed to, we continued on our walk in pursuit of the room. We naturally talked of the past. She related to me a circumstance which occurred when I was a young girl, and was a striking illustration of the change which time and the war had brought on us both. She said that during the political Convention of 1829-30, she came to Richmond with her husband, who was a member of it. The first entertainment to which she was invited was given at my father's house. When she entered the room my mother was standing about the centre of it, receiving her guests, and seeing that Mrs. Upshur was young and a perfect stranger, she took her by the hand and seated her by Mrs. Madison, at the same time introducing her to that celebrated woman. She said it was one of the most pleasant evenings of her life, and she looked back upon it with peculiar satisfaction, for she was then introduced to Mr. Madison, Mr. Monroe, Mr. Benjamin Watkins Leigh, and many others of the celebrated men of the day, who were attending the Convention. Could we then have looked through the vista of time, and have seen ourselves in this same city, the one looking for a cheap room in somebody's third story, the other looking for cheap bread, would we have believed it? The anecdote saddened us both for a time, but we soon recovered, and went on our way in cheerful, hopeful conversation. But we did not find the room.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 257-9