Diary of Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Wednesday, December 3, 1862

A bright, fine winter day. We moved our quarters fifty yards up the river into a house lately occupied by a daughter of Mr. Riggs. Its windows on the north side afford a good view of the river and of the Falls of the Kanawha. With our new cooks, two soldiers, we are living sumptuously — better than ever before since I have been in camp.

Signed a recommendation for Sergeant Chamberlain, Company A, as second lieutenant. Introduced to Captain Rigdon Williams, of the Twelfth. While at Middletown, Maryland, wounded, I heard he was killed, and on my return to Ohio I reported him killed. It was a Captain Liggett who was shot at South Mountain in the head.

The Rebels did not carry the American flag at Antietam to enable them to get into the rear of the Ohio troops. It was their battle-flag. Yet I have reported this, on good authority, as I thought. Our sergeant-major was probably killed attempting to escape from the enemy, although Lieutenant Ritter thinks — and I have reported — that he was killed pushing ahead of the regiment. So difficult it is with the best intentions and no motive to deceive, to get the truth of these battle incidents even from eyewitnesses. The men are building the new city very rapidly.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 369-70

1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: March 18, 1862

Near Point Pleasant, Mo., March 18, '62.

You see we are creeping along down the river surely if the motions are a little slow. This is about 12 miles below Madrid and said to be 75 or 80 below Cairo. It is said that the Rebels have between a dozen and 20 steamboats above here, and I think the object in occupying this point and planting artillery here is to make the assurances we have of catching them, doubly sure, for the river is considerably less in width here than where our guns are at and near Madrid. We received orders to march about sunset last night and started at tattoo. 'Twas a beautiful ride. The road lay for nearly the whole distance right along the river bank. 'Twas warm enough without overcoat or gloves and Commander Foote added to the interest of the ride by his sleep-disturbing music up at Island 10. The river makes a horseshoe bend here and Island 10 lays almost directly east of here across the peninsula. The neck is very flat, and we could plainly see the flash of every gun and see the bombs burst in the air when more than 20 or 30 yards from the ground. The roar of the 13 and 16-inch mortars is truly terrific. There was no difficulty in distinguishing their reports from the cannons. The evidences of an earthquake having performed in this country are visible when pointed out. The natives will show you a swamp and say that was once inhabitable, and then they'll point out sand ridge about four feet nearer heaven (the surface of course)! and say that was a swamp. Well, we arrived here: at 2 o'clock last night and moved nearly two miles back from the river to be out of range of a battery the enemy have planted on the opposite shore. This two miles, after deducting about 300 yards where the road runs through the little town, was a swamp of mud and water to the horses' bellies. I noticed our flag flying On the river bank over an inverted Rebel rag. The flag staff was in front of a store that had received three cannon shots from the Rebels in their efforts to cut down our flag. Nearly every house in town has had one or more doses of heavy iron and several have been burned by shells: General Palmer is five miles below here with his brigade, He was lucky enough yesterday to disable two Rebel gunboats out of three that attacked him. I am very anxious to get out of this country and into Tennessee if possible, or if we have to stay on this side, enough below the swamps to make it a little more pleasant. That ride of last night was delicious. The order was to march without any unnecessary noise, and after 10:30 (it was 2 when we got here), the boys were all perfectly quiet, many of them asleep, and I believe I enjoyed myself better than I ever did before m my life Can’t begin to tell you precisely why, except there might have been some air-castle building, but 'twas very pleasant. I hear to-night that Island 10 was evacuated last night. Think maybe Foote has his hands full up there, and doubt the evacuation idea some. Gracious how it rained last night, commenced  just after we got here, with some awful heavy thunder and don't know how long it lasted. 'Twas raining to kill when I went to sleep. We had no tents with us and every fellow provided for himself. I Went to bed with a lot of bacon and a barrel under a tent fly and slept a la log. To-day it has been real warm. Shirt sleeves and shade were in requisition. Well I’ll write you a little every day until I can send letters.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 69-71

Diary of Gideon Welles: Sunday, May 24, 1863

We have had gratifying intelligence from the Southwest for several days past, particularly in the vicinity of Vicksburg. It is pretty certain that Grant will capture the place, and it is hoped Pemberton's army also. There is a rumor that the stars and stripes wave over Vicksburg, but the telegraph-wires are broken and communication interrupted.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 311

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Thursday, July 21, 1864

Marched hard all night and daylight found us nearly through the gap; have marched hard — fairly raced —all day; brought up on the east side of Goose Creek again, where we are in camp for the night tired and worn out. We marched through Leesburg with stars and stripes waving and bands playing national airs, something unusual for us to do without it's a large place. Rumor says that our rear guard burned the place, but I don't believe it, although it has the reputation of being strongly rebel — a regular hotbed.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 125-6

Diary of Sergeant George G. Smith: July 8, 1863

At 8 a. m., we were on the march for Port Hudson. Five miles on the way, an officer met us informing us that Port Hudson had surrendered and read an order from General Banks remanding us back to Donaldsonville. We cheered of course, but our joy was to full and deep to find vent in that way. We were now in sight of the frowning hights of Port Hudson. The stars and stripes were streaming from the flag pole in the fort. But all was silent. The gun boats and mortar fleet lay sleeping peacefully on the bosom of the broad river and all was silent as a Sabbath morn. The Sallie Robinson came up and took us on board and her prow was turned down stream. Remaining over night at Baton Rouge at 2 p. m. the First Louisiana was again in Donaldsonville. A swarm of bees came across the river and pitched on the flag pole in the fort. Next day Augar's division of the nineteenth corps arrived from Port Hudson on transports. Our troops took formal possession of that place on the morning of the ninth.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 87-8

Captain Truman Seymour & Lieutenant George W. Snyder to Major Robert Anderson, April 3, 1861

fort Sumter, April 3, 1861.

Maj. Robert Anderson, First Artillery, U. S. Army,

Commanding Fort Sumter, Charleston Harbor:

Major: In obedience to your directions, we visited Cummings Point, and the schooner bearing the United States flag, which was fired into by the batteries on Morris Island, and respectfully present the following statement concerning the affair:

The commanding officer on Morris Island, Lieutenant-Colonel W. G. De Saussure, stated that a schooner with the United States flag at her peak endeavored to enter the harbor this afternoon about 3 o'clock; that in accordance with his orders to prevent any vessel under that flag from entering the harbor, he had fired three shots across her bows, and this not causing her to heave to, he had fired at her, and had driven her out of the harbor; that he thought one or two shots had taken effect, and that if he had a boat that could live to get out to her he would send and see if she were disabled, and inform Major Anderson at once, but that he had no proper boat, as the schooner was at anchor in a very rough place; that the revenue cutter had gone out to examine her condition. We ascertained the schooner to be the Rhoda B. Shannon. Joseph Marts, master, of Dorchester, N. J., bound from Boston to Savannah with a cargo of ice, having left the former place on March 26. On account of unfavorable weather, the master had obtained but one observation, and that was an imperfect one on yesterday. On his arrival off Charleston Bar, supposing himself to be off Tybee, and seeing a pilot-boat, he directed one of his men to hold the United States flag in the fore rigging as a signal for a pilot. As none came, the flag was taken down in a few minutes, and the master undertook to bring his vessel into the harbor without a pilot. He did not discover that he was not in Savannah Harbor until he had crossed the bar and had advanced some distance in the harbor. As he was passing Morris Island, displaying no flag, a shot was fired from a battery on shore across the bows of the schooner. The master states that he thought they wished him to show his colors, and that he displayed the United States flag at his peak. One or two shots were then fired across the schooner's bows, but he did not know what to do or what the people on shore wished him to do; that he kept the vessel on her course until they fired at her, and one shot had gone through the mainsail, about two feet above the boom, when he put her about and stood out to sea, anchoring his vessel in the Swash Channel, just inside of the bar; that the batteries kept on firing at his vessel for some time after he had turned to go out to sea.

The master of the schooner stated that before leaving Boston, he had learned how affairs stood in Charleston Harbor, and that Fort Sumter was to be given up in a few days; that they had established a new confederacy down South.

After satisfying ourselves that the vessel was uninjured, and as she was lying in a very rough place, we advised the master to move his vessel — either to stand out to sea and go on to Savannah, or to come into the harbor and anchor.

On our return we stopped at Cummings Point, and stated the facts to Lieutenant-Colonel De Saussure. He said that the vessel would not be molested if she came into the harbor.

The schooner weighed anchor a short time after we left, and stood in towards Morris Island for some distance, but finally turned about and went to sea.

Respectfully submitted.

T. Seymour, Captain, First Artillery.

G. W. Snyder, Lieutenant of Engineers.

SOURCES: Samuel Wylie Crawford, The Genesis of the Civil War: The Story of Sumter, 1860-1861, p. 379-80

Colonel William F. Bartlett to Governor John A. Andrew, April 14, 1864

Your Excellency, — I hope, sir, we shall do the flag more credit in action, than we can do ourselves in speech.

My Men! This flag, which is the standard of our own Massachusetts, and this which we have been taught to look upon as the sacred emblem of our nation, have today been formally entrusted to our keeping, to carry and defend, by the Governor of our State. Can I say to him for you, that you will try to do honor to this trust? That you will carry it and defend it, whenever and wherever duty calls; that you will never desert, disown, or disgrace it; that you will swear by it, pray for it, live for it, and if need be, die for it; and that you will devote yourselves to its service until it shall be feared and respected throughout the recreant South, as it is loved and cherished by the loyal North?

Ever since that flag was insulted by traitors in Charleston harbor, it has had a warmer place in the heart of every loyal man. When her high-toned orators threatened the South's rebellion and secession, we endured a great deal of personal insult and abuse, calmly and silently. But when, viper-like, she turned and fired upon that flag which had shielded and protected her, she struck a blow which blood alone can atone for. She made a blot on the page of our national history which we are in arms to-day to wipe out. As it went slowly and sullenly down on those battered walls, it went up like magic on every hill-top and tower, on every steeple and staff throughout the North; and nearer and dearer to us than anything else on earth, and reverenced next to our religion, is that old flag still.

There are those at the South who, still true to their country, are waiting silently and patiently till they see the gleam of its folds again — a token of the return of good government, the overthrow of despotism and rebellion; and there are those, too, who wait hopefully, prayerfully, for its coming, for they know that now and hereafter, wherever that flag floats, all men are free.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 97-8

Diary of William Howard Russell: May 20, 1861

I left Mobile in the steamer Florida for New Orleans this morning at eight o'clock. She was crowded with passengers, in uniform. In my cabin was a notice of the rules and regulations of the steamer. No. 6 was as follows: “All slave servants must be cleared at the Custom House. Passengers having slaves will please report as soon as they come on board.”

A few miles from Mobile the steamer, turning to the right, entered one of the narrow channels which perforate the whole of the coast, called “Grant's Pass.” An ingenious person has rendered it navigable by an artificial cut; but as he was not an universal philanthropist, and possibly may have come from north of the Tweed, he further erected a series of barriers, which can only be cleared by means of a little pepper-castor iron lighthouse; and he charges toll on all passing vessels. A small island at the pass, just above water-level, about twenty yards broad and one hundred and fifty yards long, was being fortified. Some of our military friends landed here ; and it required a good deal of patriotism to look cheerfully at the prospect of remaining cooped up among the mosquitoes in a box, on this miserable sand-bank, which a shell would suffice to blow into atoms.

Having passed this channel, our steamer proceeded up a kind of internal sea, formed by the shore, on the right hand and on the left, by a chain almost uninterrupted of reefs covered with sand, and exceedingly narrow, so that the surf of the ocean rollers at the other side could be seen through the foliage of the pine-trees which line them. On our right the endless pines closed up the land view of the horizon; the beach was pierced by creeks without number, called bayous; and it was curious to watch the white sails of the little schooners gliding in and out among the trees along the green meadows that seemed to stretch as an impassable barrier to their exit. Immense troops of pelicans flapped over the sea, dropping incessantly on the fish which abounded in the inner water; and long rows of the same birds stood digesting their plentiful meals on the white beach by the ocean foam.

There was some anxiety in the passengers' minds, as it was reported that the United States cruisers had been seen inside, and that they had even burned the batteries on Ship Island. We saw nothing of a character more formidable than coasting craft and a return steamer from New Orleans till we approached the entrance to Pontchartrain, when a large schooner, which sailed like a witch and was crammed with men, attracted our attention. Through the glass I could make out two guns on her deck, and quite reason enough for any well-filled merchantman sailing under the Stars and Stripes to avoid her close companionship.

The approach to New Orleans is indicated by large hamlets and scattered towns along the seashore, hid in the piney woods, which offer a retreat to the merchants and their families from the fervid heat of the unwholesome city in summer time. As seen from the sea, these sanitary settlements have a picturesque effect, and an air of charming freshness and lightness. There are detached villas of every variety of architecture in which timber can be constructed, painted in the brightest hues — greens, and blues, and rose tints — each embowered in magnolias and rhododendrons. From every garden a very long and slender pier, terminated by a bathing-box, stretches into the shallow sea; and the general aspect of these houses, with the light domes and spires of churches rising above the lines of white railings set in the dark green of the pines, is light and novel. To each of these cities there is a jetty, at two of which we touched, and landed newspapers, received or discharged a few bales of goods, and were off again.

Of the little crowd assembled on each, the majority were blacks — the whites, almost without exception, in uniform, and armed. A near approach did not induce me to think that any agencies less powerful than epidemics and summer-heats could render Pascagoula, Passchristian, Mississippi City, and the rest of these settlements very eligible residences for people of an active turn of mind.

The livelong day my fellow-passengers never ceased talking politics, except when they were eating and drinking, because the horrible chewing and spitting are not at all incompatible with the maintenance of active discussion. The fiercest of them all was a thin, fiery-eyed little woman, who at dinner expressed a fervid desire for bits of “Old Abe” — his ear, his hair; but whether for the purpose of eating or as curious relics, she did not enlighten the company.

After dinner there was some slight difficulty among the military gentlemen, though whether of a political or personal character, I could not determine; but it was much aggravated by the appearance of a six-shooter on the scene, which, to my no small perturbation, was presented in a right line with my berth, out of the window of which I was looking at the combatants. I am happy to say the immediate delivery of the fire was averted by an amicable arrangement that the disputants should meet at the St. Charles Hotel at twelve o'clock on the second day after their arrival, in order to fix time, place, and conditions of a more orthodox and regular encounter.

At night the steamer entered a dismal canal, through a swamp which is infamous as the most mosquito haunted place along the infested shore; the mouths of the Mississippi themselves being quite innocent, compared to the entrance of Lake Pontchartrain. When I woke up at daylight, I found the vessel lying alongside a wharf with a railway train alongside, which is to take us to the city of New Orleans, six miles distant.

A village of restaurants or “restaurants,” as they are called here, and of bathing boxes has grown up around the terminus; all the names of the owners, the notices and sign-boards being French. Outside the settlement the railroad passes through a swamp, like an Indian jungle, through which the over-flowings of the Mississippi creep in black currents. The spires of New Orleans rise above the underwood and semi-tropical vegetation of this swamp. Nearer to the city lies a marshy plain, in which flocks of cattle, up to the belly in the soft earth are floundering among the clumps of vegetation. The nearer approach to New Orleans by rail lies through a suburb of exceedingly broad lanes, lined on each side by rows of miserable mean one-storied houses, inhabited, if I am to judge from the specimens I saw, by a miserable and sickly population.

A great number of the men and women had evident traces of negro blood in their veins, and of the purer blooded whites many had the peculiar look of the fishy-fleshy population of the Levantine towns, and all were pale and lean. The railway terminus is marked by a dirty, barrack-like shed in the city. Selecting one of the numerous tumble-down hackney carriages which crowded the street outside the station, I directed the man to drive me to the house of Mr. Mure, the British consul, who had been kind enough to invite me as his guest for the period of my stay in New Orleans.

The streets are badly paved, as those of most of the American cities, if not all that I have ever been in, but in other respects they are more worthy of a great city than are those of New York There is an air thoroughly French about the people — cafes, restaurants, billiard-rooms abound, with oyster and lager-bier saloons interspersed. The shops are all magazines; the people in the streets are speaking French, particularly the negroes, who are going out shopping with their masters and mistresses, exceedingly well dressed, noisy, and not unhappy looking. The extent of the drive gave an imposing idea of the size of New Orleans — the richness of some of the shops, the vehicles in the streets, and the multitude of well-dressed people on the pavements, an impression of its wealth and the comfort of the inhabitants, The Confederate flag was flying from the public buildings and from many private houses. Military companies paraded through the streets, and a large proportion of men were in uniform.

In the day I drove through the city, delivered letters of introduction, paid visits, and examined the shops and the public places; but there is such a whirl of secession and politics surrounding one it is impossible to discern much of the outer world.

Whatever may be the number of the Unionists or of the non-secessionists, a pressure too potent to be resisted has been directed by the popular party against the friends of the federal government. The agent of Brown Brothers, of Liverpool and New York, has closed their office and is going away in consequence of the intimidation of the mob, or as the phrase is here, the “excitement of the citizens,” on hearing of the subscription made by the firm to the New York fund, after Sumter had been fired upon. Their agent in Mobile has been compelled to adopt the same course. Other houses follow their example, but as most business transactions are over for the season, the mercantile community hope the contest will be ended before the next season, by the recognition of Southern Independence.

The streets are full of Turcos, Zouaves, Chasseurs; walls are covered with placards of volunteer companies; there are Pickwick rifles, La Fayette/Beauregard, MacMahon guards, Irish, German, Italian and Spanish and native volunteers, among whom the Meagher rifles, indignant with the gentleman from whom they took their name, because of his adhesion to the North, are going to rebaptize themselves and to seek glory under one more auspicious. In fact, New Orleans looks like a suburb of the camp at Chalons. Tailors are busy night and day making uniforms. I went into a shop with the consul for some shirts — the mistress and all her seamstresses were busy preparing flags as hard as the sewing-machine could stitch them, and could attend to no business for the present. The Irish population, finding themselves unable to migrate northwards, and being without work, have rushed to arms with enthusiasm to support Southern institutions, and Mr. John Mitchell and Mr. Meagher stand opposed to each other in hostile camps.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 227-31

Diary of Dolly Lunt Burge: May 14, 1865

Mr. Knowles, our circuit preacher, came. I like him. We agree upon a good many contested topics. He loves the old flag as well as myself and would be glad to see it floating where it ever has.

I had a long conversation with my man Elbert to-day about freedom, and told him I was perfectly willing, but wanted direction. He says the Yankees told Major Lee's servants they were all free, but they had better remain where they were until it was all settled, as it would be in a month's time. We heard so many conflicting rumors we know not what to do, but are willing to carry out the orders when we know them.

SOURCE: Dolly Lunt Burge, A Woman's Wartime Journal, p. 50-1

Diary of Dolly Lunt Burge: April 29, 1865

Boys plowing in old house field. We are needing rain. Everything looks pleasant, but the state of our country is very gloomy. General Lee has surrendered to the victorious Grant. Well, if it will only hasten the conclusion of this war, I am satisfied. There has been something very strange in the whole affair to me, and I can attribute it to nothing but the hand of Providence working out some problem that has not yet been revealed to us poor, erring mortals. At the beginning of the struggle the minds of men, their wills, their self-control, seemed to be all taken from them in a passionate antagonism to the coming-in President, Abraham Lincoln. Our leaders, to whom the people looked for wisdom, led us into this, perhaps the greatest error of the age. “We will not have this man to rule over us!” was their cry. For years it has been stirring in the hearts of Southern politicians that the North was enriched and built up by Southern labor and wealth. Men's pockets were always appealed to and appealed to so constantly that an antagonism was excited which it has been impossible to allay. They did not believe that the North would fight. Said Robert Toombes: “I will drink every drop of blood they will shed.” Oh, blinded men! Rivers deep and strong have been shed, and where are we now? — a ruined, subjugated people! What will be our future? is the question which now rests heavily upon the hearts of all.

This has been a month never to be forgotten. Two armies have surrendered. The President of the United States has been assassinated, Richmond evacuated, and Davis, President of the Confederacy, put to grief, to flight. The old flag has been raised again upon Sumter and an armistice accepted.

SOURCE: Dolly Lunt Burge, A Woman's Wartime Journal, p. 46-8

Diary of William Howard Russell: May 1, 1861

May Day, — Not unworthy of the best effort of English fine weather before the change in the calendar robbed the poets of twelve days, but still a little warm for choice. The young American artist Moses, who was to have called our party to meet the officers who were going to Fort Pulaski, for some reason known to himself remained on board the Camilla, and when at last we got down to the river side I found Commodore Tatnall and Brigadier Lawton in full uniform waiting for me.

The river is about the width of the Thames below Gravesend, very muddy, with a strong current, and rather fetid. That effect might have been produced from the rice-swamps at the other side of it, where the land is quite low, and stretches away as far as the sea in one level green, smooth as a billiard-cloth. The bank at the city side is higher, so that the houses stand on a little eminence over the stream, affording convenient wharfage and slips for merchant vessels.

Of these there were few indeed visible—nearly all had cleared out for fear of the blockade; some coasting vessels were lying idle at the quay side, and in the middle of the stream near a floating dock the Camilla was moored, with her club ensign flying. These are the times for bold ventures, and if Uncle Sam is not very quick with his blockades, there will be plenty of privateers and the like under C. S. A. colors, looking out for his fat merchantmen all over the world.

I have been trying to persuade my friends here they will find very few Englishmen willing to take letters of marque and reprisal.

The steamer which was waiting to receive us had the Confederate flag flying, and Commodore Tatnall, pointing to a young officer in a naval uniform, told me he had just “come over from the other side,” and that he had pressed hard to be allowed to hoist a Commodore or flag-officer's ensign in honor of the visit and of the occasion. I was much interested in the fine white-headed, blue-eyed, ruddy-cheeked old man — who suddenly found himself blown into the air by a great political explosion, and in doubt and wonderment was floating to shore, under a strange flag in unknown waters. He was full of anecdote too, as to strange flags in distant waters and well-known names. The gentry of Savannah had a sort of Celtic feeling towards him in regard of his old name, and seemed determined to support him.

He has served the Stars and Stripes for three fourths of a long life — his friends are in the North, his wife's kindred are there, and so are all his best associations — but his State has gone out. How could he fight against the country that gave yhim birth! The United States is no country, in the sense we understand the words. It is a corporation or a body corporate for certain purposes, and a man might as well call himself a native of the common council of the city of London, or a native of the Swiss Diet, in the estimation of our Americans, as say he is a citizen of the United States; though it answers very well to say so when he is abroad, or for purposes of a legal character.

Of Fort Pulaski itself I wrote on my return a long account to the “Times.”

When I was venturing to point out to General Lawton the weakness of Fort Pulaski, placed as it is in low land, accessible to boats, and quite open enough for approaches from the city side, he said, “Oh, that is true enough. All our seacoast works are liable to that remark, but the Commodore will take care of the Yankees at sea, and we shall manage them on land.” These people all make a mistake in referring to the events of the old war. “We beat off the British fleet at Charleston by the militia — ergo, we'll sink the Yankees now.” They do not understand the nature of the new shell and heavy vertical fire, or the effect of projectiles from great distances falling into works. The Commodore afterwards, smiling, remarked, “I have no fleet. Long before the Southern Confederacy has a fleet that can cope with the Stars and Stripes, my bones will be white in the grave.”

We got back by eight o'clock, P. M., after a pleasant day. What I saw did not satisfy me that Pulaski was strong, or Savannah very safe. At Bonaventure, yesterday, I saw a poor fort, called “Thunderbolt,” on an inlet from which the city was quite accessible. It could be easily menaced from that point, while attempts at landing were made elsewhere, as soon as Pulaski is reduced. At dinner met a very strong and very well-informed Southerner — there are some who are neither — or either — whose name was spelled Gourdin, and pronounced Go-dine — just as Huger is called Hugee—and Tagliaferro, Telfer, in these parts.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 155-7

Diary of William Howard Russell: April 24, 1861

In the morning we found ourselves in chopping little sea-way for which the “Nina” was particularly unsuited, laden as she was with provisions and produce. Eyes and glasses anxiously straining seawards for any trace of the blockading vessels. Every sail scrutinized, but no “stars and stripes” visible.

Our captain — a good specimen of one of the inland-water navigators, shrewd, intelligent, and active, — told me a good deal about the country. He laughed at the fears of the whites as regards the climate. “Why, here am I,” said he, “going up the river, and down the river all times of the year, and at times of day and night when they reckon the air is most deadly, and I've done so for years without any bad effects. The planters whose houses I pass all run away in May, and go off to Europe, or to the piney wood, or to the springs, or they think they'd all die. There's Captain Buck, who lives above here, — he comes from the State of Maine. He had only a thousand dollars to begin with, but he sets to work and gets land on the Maccamaw River at twenty cents an acre. It was death to go nigh it, but it was first-rate rice land, and Captain Buck is now worth a million of dollars. He lives on his estate all the year round, and is as healthy a man as ever you seen.”

To such historiettes my planting friends turn a deaf ear. “I tell you what,” said Pringle, “just to show you what kind our climate is. I had an excellent overseer once, who would insist on staying near the river, and wouldn't go away. He fought against it for more than five-and-twenty years, but he went down with fever at last.” As the overseer was more than thirty years of age when he came to the estate, he had not been cut off so very suddenly. I thought of the quack's advertisement of the “bad leg of sixty years' standing.” The captain says the negroes on the river plantations are very well off. He can buy enough of pork from the slaves on one plantation to last his ship's crew for the whole winter. The money goes to them, as the hogs are their own. One of the stewards on board had bought himself and his family out of bondage with his earnings. The State in general, however, does not approve of such practices.

At three o'clock, P. M., ran into Charleston harbor, ant landed soon afterwards.

I saw General Beauregard in the evening: he was very lively and in good spirits, though he admitted he was rather surprised by the spirit displayed in the North. “A good deal of it is got up, however,” he said, “and belongs to that washy sort of enthusiasm which is promoted by their lecturing and spouting.” Beauregard is very proud of his personal strength, which for his slight frame is said to be very extraordinary, and he seemed to insist on it that the Southern men had more physical strength, owing to their mode of life and their education, than their Northern “brethren.” In the evening held a sort of tabaks consilium in the hotel, where a number of officers  — Manning, Lucas, Chestnut, Calhoun, &c, — discoursed of the affairs of the nation. All my friends, except Trescot, I think were elated at the prospect of hostilities with the North, and overjoyed that a South Carolina regiment had already set out for the frontiers of Virginia.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 135-6

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, November 9, 1861

Headquarters 2nd Brigade,

Hilton Head, Nov. 9TH, 1861.

My dear Mother:

It is a long, long time since I have heard from home — nearly three weeks I think since we have been blessed with news by mail, and all this time I am wondering how you are all faring in New-York. Well, when a mail bag does come, may it be crowded with all sorts of good news. Now we have good news to report, for we are now enjoying ourselves in the pleasant climate of South Carolina.

We have been many days on shipboard, 1700 of us all together, on board the good ship “Vanderbilt” which bravely rode the storm, while other good ships foundered in the sea. But the storm abated, and the winds went down, and we were lying off the coast of South Carolina. Then we thought that a death struggle was about to commence, for were we not to lock arms, and wrestle, with traitors at the very headquarters of rebellion? We lay off Beaufort Harbor some sixty hours in idleness, waiting for the ball to open. That navy though is a slow affair, and we abused it mightily, being impatient to decide the fate of the expedition. Our naval commanders — Commodore Dupont and Secretary of Navy Welles — received most unflattering notices. Why would they not begin? Finally the old concern got a working — the “Wabash” led off, and was followed by a whole fleet of minor vessels. They sailed into line, and soon were sharply engaged with the forts protecting the entrance to the Harbor. For four hours shot were poured thickly into the defenses of the besieged, and nearly as long a time the besiegers sent destruction among our ships. But the terrible explosions of our shell, the steady broadsides poured from the Frigate “Wabash,” and the sure-aimed missiles sent from the little gunboats that would run up close to the shore, ensuring thus accuracy of aim — all these things were terrible in their effect upon the foe. At last a white flag floated from the parapet of their fortification, and quickly a white flag was despatched from the “Wabash” to the shore. Hip, Hip, Hurrah! We see — ay —  we rub our eyes — is it really true? We see the American banner once more floating on the soil of South Carolina. All this time we were looking on, silent spectators of the scene. But now the harbor rings with the shouts of applause, with which we greeted the great naval victory. We forgot for a moment how slow Secretary Welles is, and how dreadfully slow are all the operations of the Navy. And now we vile Yankee hordes are overrunning the pleasant islands about Beaufort, rioting upon sweet potatoes and Southern sunshine. Hilton Head is a sandy island but beautiful with palmetto leaves, cotton fields, magnolia and orange groves, and plantations of sugar cane. Here lived the Pinckneys, the Draytons, and other high-blooded Hidalgos, whose effervescing exuberance of gentlemanly spirit have done so much to cause our present troubles. Alas! Yankee hordes, ruthless invaders — the vile Hessians — infest their splendid plantations. One poor fellow was taken prisoner; afterward we learned there was in our hospital a brother of his, dying from disease, a young man who was too ill to retreat when his comrades fled precipitately. The brother first mentioned ventured to request that they two might remain together. To his surprise the request was willingly granted, and they seemed to feel that we had shown them a great kindness. The effects left by the South Carolinians in their flight show that there were many young men of wealth among them, who, feeling obliged probably, to do their duty as soldiers, selected the neighborhood of Beaufort, which is a kind of Southern Saratoga. But if the flower of South Carolina youth, it is to be regretted that the flower never paid more attention to the spelling-book. A letter written them from a friend exhorts them to remember that they are “of gentilmanly blud.” As a sort of memento I send you enclosed a “poem,” the brilliancy of which will make it pay for the perusal. I saw William Ely yesterday. It is long since I've seen him before, and he has changed so that I did not recognize him until he gave me his name. If I had time I would write pages more, but I am full of business now. Oh a thousand times love and oceans of kisses for sisters and little ones, with less demonstrative but very warm regards for all friends.

I remain Affec'y.,

Will.

Can't stop to correct what I've written so excuse mistakes.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 95-8

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 22, 1861

We have information that the enemy have invaded and taken possession of the Eastern Shore of Virginia, Accomac and Northampton Counties. They invaded the two counties with a force of 8000 men, and we had only 800 to oppose them. Of course there could be no contest against such odds. They carried my tenant to Drnmmondtown, the county seat, and made him (I suppose) assist in raising the United States flag over the court-house.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 95

Diary of Sarah Morgan: May 10, 1862

Last night about one o'clock I was wakened and told that mother and Miriam had come. Oh, how glad I was! I tumbled out of bed half asleep and hugged Miriam in a dream, but waked up when I got to mother. They came up under a flag of truce, on a boat going up for provisions, which, by the way, was brought to by half a dozen Yankee ships in succession, with a threat to send a broadside into her if she did not stop — the wretches knew it must be under a flag of truce; no boats leave, except by special order to procure provisions.

What tales they had to tell! They were on the wharf, and saw the ships sail up the river, saw the broadside fired into Will Pinckney's regiment, the boats we fired, our gunboats, floating down to meet them all wrapped in flames; twenty thousand bales of cotton blazing in a single pile; molasses and sugar thrown over everything. They stood there opposite to where one of the ships landed, expecting a broadside, and resolute not to be shot in the back. I wish I had been there! And Captain Huger is not dead! They had hopes of his life for the first time day before yesterday. Miriam saw the ball that had just been extracted. He will probably be lame for the rest of his life. It will be a glory to him. For even the Federal officers say that never did they see so gallant a little ship, or one that fought so desperately as the McRae. Men and officers fought like devils. Think of all those great leviathans after the poor little “Widow Mickey”! One came tearing down on her sideways, while the Brooklyn fired on her from the other side, when brave Captain Warley put the nose of the Manassas under the first, and tilted her over so that the whole broadside passed over, instead of through, the McRae, who spit back its poor little fire at both. And after all was lost, she carried the wounded and the prisoners to New Orleans, and was scuttled by her own men in port. Glorious Captain Huger! And think of his sending word to Jimmy, suffering as he was, that “his little brass cannon was game to the last.” Oh! I hope he will recover. Brave, dare-devil Captain Warley is prisoner, and on the way to Fort Warren, that home of all brave, patriotic men. We'll have him out. And my poor little Jimmy! If I have not spoken of him, it is not because I have lost sight of him for a moment. The day the McRae went down, he arose from his bed, ill as he was, and determined to rejoin her, as his own boat, the Mississippi, was not ready. When he reached the St. Charles, he fell so very ill that he had to be carried back to Brother's. Only his desperate illness saved him from being among the killed or wounded on that gallant little ship. A few days after, he learned the fate of the ship, and was told that Captain Huger was dead. No wonder he should cry so bitterly! For Captain Huger was as tender and as kind to him as his own dear father. God bless him for it! The enemy's ships were sailing up; so he threw a few articles in a carpet-bag and started off for Richmond, Corinth, anywhere, to fight. Sick, weak, hardly able to stand, he went off, two weeks ago yesterday. We know not where, and we have never heard from him since. Whether he succumbed to that jaundice and the rest, and lies dead or dying on the road, God only knows. We can only wait and pray God to send dear little Jimmy home in safety.

And this is War! Heaven save me from like scenes and experiences again. I was wild with excitement last night when Miriam described how the soldiers, marching to the depot, waved their hats to the crowds of women and children, shouting, “God bless you, ladies! We will fight for you!” and they, waving their handkerchiefs, sobbed with one voice, “God bless you, Soldiers! Fight for us!”

We, too, have been having our fun. Early in the evening, four more gunboats sailed up here. We saw them from the corner, three squares off, crowded with men even up in the riggings. The American flag was flying from every peak. It was received in profound silence, by the hundreds gathered on the banks. I could hardly refrain from a groan. Much as I once loved that flag, I hate it now! I came back and made myself a Confederate flag about five inches long, slipped the staff in my belt, pinned the flag to my shoulder, and walked downtown, to the consternation of women and children, who expected something awful to follow. An old negro cried, “My young missus got her flag flyin', anyhow!” Nettie made one and hid it in the folds of her dress. But we were the only two who ventured. We went to the State House terrace, and took a good look at the Brooklyn which was crowded with people who took a good look at us, likewise. The picket stationed at the Garrison took alarm at half a dozen men on horseback and ran, saying that the citizens were attacking. The kind officers aboard the ship sent us word that if they were molested, the town would be shelled. Let them! Butchers! Does it take thirty thousand men and millions of dollars to murder defenseless women and children? O the great nation! Bravo!

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 25-8

Proclamation of Jefferson Davis: General Orders No. 111, December 23, 1862

GENERAL ORDERS No. 111.

ADJT. AND INSP. GENERAL'S OFFICE,

Richmond, December 24, 1862.

I. The following proclamation of the President is published for the information and guidance of all concerned therein:

BY THE PRESIDENT OF THE CONFEDERATE STATES.

A PROCLAMATION.

Whereas a communication was addressed on the 6th day of July last (1862) by General Robert E. Lee, acting under the instructions of the Secretary of War of the Confederate States of America, to General H. W. Halleck, General-in-Chief of the U. S. Army, informing the latter that a report had reached this Government that William B. Mumford, a citizen of the Confederate States, had been executed by the U. S. authorities at New Orleans for having pulled down the U. S. flag in that city before its occupation by the forces of the United States, and calling for a statement of the facts with a view to retaliation if such an outrage had really been committed under sanction of the authorities of the United States;

And whereas (no answer having been received to said letter) another letter was on the 2d August last (1862) addressed by General Lee under my instructions to General Halleck renewing the inquiry in relation to the said execution of said Mumford, with the information that in the event of not receiving a reply within fifteen days it would be assumed that the fact alleged was true and was sanctioned by the Government of the United States;

And whereas an answer, dated on the 7th August last (1862) was addressed to General Lee by General H. W. Halleck, the said General-in-Chief of the Armies of the United States, alleging sufficient cause for failure to make early reply to said letter of 6th July, asserting that “no authentic information had been received in relation to the execution of Mumford, but measures will be immediately taken to ascertain the facts of the alleged execution,” and promising that General Lee should be duly informed thereof;

And whereas on the 29th November last (1862) another letter was addressed under my instructions by Robert Ould, Confederate agent for the exchange of prisoners under the cartel between the two Governments, to Lieut. Col. W. H. Ludlow, agent of the United States under said cartel, informing him that the explanations promised in the said letter of General Halleck of 7th August last had not yet been received, and that if no answer was sent to the Government within fifteen days from the delivery of this last communication it would be considered that an answer is declined;

And whereas by letter dated on the 3d day of the present month of December the said Lieutenant-Colonel Ludlow apprised the said Robert Ould that the above-recited communication of 29th of November had been received and forwarded to the Secretary of War of the United States;

And whereas this last delay of fifteen days allowed for answer has elapsed and no answer has been received;

And whereas in addition to the tacit admission resulting from the above refusal to answer I have received evidence fully establishing the truth of the fact that the said William B. Mumford, a citizen of this Confederacy, was actually and publicly executed in cold blood by hanging after the occupation of the city of New Orleans by the forces under the command of General Benjamin F. Butler when said Mumford was an unresisting and non-combatant captive, and for no offense even alleged to have been committed by him subsequent to the date of the capture of the said city;

And whereas the silence of the Government of the United States and its maintaining of said Butler in high office under its authority for many months after his commission of an act that can be viewed in no other light than as a deliberate murder, as well as of numerous other outrages and atrocities hereafter to be mentioned, afford evidence only too conclusive that the said Government sanctions the conduct of said Butler and is determined that he shall remain unpunished for his crimes:

Now therefore I, Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederate States of America, and in their name do pronounce and declare the said Benjamin F. Butler to be a felon deserving of capital punishment. I do order that he be no longer considered or treated simply as a public enemy of the Confederate States of America but as an outlaw and common enemy of mankind, and that in the event of his capture the officer in command of the capturing force do cause him to be immediately executed by hanging; and I do further order that no commissioned officer of the United States taken captive shall be released on parole before exchange until the said Butler shall have met with due punishment for his crimes.

And whereas the hostilities waged against this Confederacy by the forces of the United States under the command of said Benjamin F. Butler have borne no resemblance to such warfare as is alone permissible by the rules of international law or the usages of civilization but have been characterized by repeated atrocities and outrages, among the large number of which the following may be cited as examples:

Peaceful and aged citizens, unresisting captives and non-combatants, have been confined at hard labor with balls and chains attached to their limbs, and are still so held in dungeons and fortresses. Others have been subjected to a like degrading punishment for selling medicines to the sick soldiers of the Confederacy.

The soldiers of the United States have been invited and encouraged by general orders to insult and outrage the wives, the mothers and the sisters of our citizens.

Helpless women have been torn from their homes and subjected to solitary confinement, some in fortresses and prisons and one especially on an island of barren sand under a tropical sun; have been fed with loathsome rations that had been condemned as unfit for soldiers, and have been exposed to the vilest insults.

Prisoners of war who surrendered to the naval forces of the United States on agreement that they should be released on parole have been seized and kept in close confinement.

Repeated pretexts have been sought or invented for plundering the inhabitants of the captured city by fines levied and exacted under threat of imprisoning recusants at hard labor with ball and chain.

The entire population of the city of New Orleans have been forced to elect between starvation, by the confiscation of all their property, and taking an oath against conscience to bear allegiance to the invaders of their country.

Egress from the city has been refused to those whose fortitude withstood the test, even to lone and aged women and to helpless children; and after being ejected from their homes and robbed of their property they have been left to starve in the streets or subsist on charity.

The slaves have been driven from the plantations in the neighborhood of New Orleans till their owners would consent to share the crops with the commanding general, his brother Andrew J. Butler, and other officers; and when such consent had been extorted the slaves have been restored to the plantations and there compelled to work under the bayonets of guards of U. S. soldiers.

Where this partnership was refused armed expeditions have been sent to the plantations to rob them of everything that was susceptible of removal, and even slaves too aged or infirm for work have in spite of their entreaties been forced from the homes provided by the owners and driven to wander helpless on the highway.

By a recent general order (No. 91) the entire property in that part of Louisiana lying west of the Mississippi River has been sequestrated for confiscation and officers have been assigned to duty with orders to gather up and collect the personal property and turn over to the proper officers upon their receipts such of said property as may be required for the use of the U. S. Army; to collect together all the other personal property and bring the same to New Orleans and cause it to be sold at public auction to the highest bidders” – an order which if executed condemns to punishment by starvation at least a quarter of a million of human beings of all ages, sexes and conditions; and of which the execution although forbidden to military officers by the orders of President Lincoln is in accordance with the confiscation law of our enemies which he has directed to be enforced through the agency of civil officials. And finally the African slaves have not only been excited to insurrection by every license and encouragement but numbers of them have actually been armed for a servile war – a war in its nature far exceeding in horrors the most merciless atrocities of the savages.

And whereas the officers under the command of the said Butler have been in many instances active and zealous agents in the commission of these crimes, and no instance is known of the refusal of any one of them to participate in the outrages above narrated;

And whereas the President of the United States has by public and official declaration signified not only his approval of the effort to excite servile war within the Confederacy but his intention to give aid and encouragement thereto if these independent States shall continue to refuse submission to a foreign power after the 1st day of January next, and has thus made known that all appeals to the laws of nations, the dictates of reason and the instincts of humanity would be addressed in vain to our enemies, and that they can be deterred from the commission of these crimes only by the terms of just retribution:

Now therefore I, Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederate States of America and acting by their authority, appealing to the Divine Judge in attestation that their conduce is not guided by the passion of revenge but that they reluctantly yield to the solemn duty of repressing by necessary severity crimes of which their citizens are the victims, do issue this my proclamation, and by virtue of my authority as Commander-in-Chief of the Armies of the Confederate States do order—

1. That all commissioned officers in the command of said Benjamin F. Butler be declared not entitled to be considered as soldiers engaged in honorable warfare but as robbers and criminals deserving death, and that they and each of them be whenever captured reserved for execution.

2. That the private soldiers and non-commissioned officers in the army of said Butler be considered as only the instruments used for the commission of the crimes perpetrated by his orders and not as free agents; that they therefore be treated when captured as prisoners of war with kindness and humanity and be sent home on the usual parole that they will in no manner aid or serve the United States in any capacity during the continuance of this war unless duly exchanged.

3. That all negro slaves captured in arms be at once delivered over to the executive authorities of the respective States to which they belong to be dealt with according to the laws of said States.

4. That the like orders be executed in all cases with respect to all commissioned officers of the United States when found serving in company with armed slaves in insurrection against the authorities of the different States of this Confederacy.

In testimony whereof I have signed these presents and caused the seal of the Confederate States of America to be affixed thereto at the city of Richmond on this 23d day of December, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-two.

[L. S.]

JEFF'N DAVIS.

By the President:

J. P. BENJAMIN,

Secretary of State.

II. Officers of the Army are charged with the observance and enforcement of the foregoing orders of the President. Where the evidence is not full or the case is for any reason of a doubtful character it will be referred through this office for the decision of the War Department.

By order:

S. COOPER,

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series 2, Volume 5 (Serial No. 118), p. 795-7

Governor Francis W. Pickens to David Flavel Jamison, December 28, 1860

Executive Department,

28th December, 1860.

To the Hon. D. F. Jamison,

President of the Convention.

Sir: As the Convention sent for me yesterday to be informed upon important matters, I take occasion to say that under my order Castle Pinckney was taken last evening, and the United States flag hauled down, and the Palmetto banner run up in its place; and I also ordered a detachment from an artillery regiment to occupy Sullivan's Island, and, if it could be done without any immediate danger from mines, or too great loss of life, to take Fort Moultrie and run up the Palmetto flag, and to put the guns in immediate preparation for defense. I have now full possession of these two forts. I considered the evacuation of Fort Moultrie, under all the circumstances, a direct violation of the distinct understanding between the authorities of the Government at Washington, and those who were authorized to act on the part of this State, and bringing on a state of war.

I therefore thought it due to the safety of the State that I should take the steps I have. I hope there is no immediate danger of further aggression for the present.

Respectfully,

(Signed)

F. W. Pickens.

SOURCE: Samuel Wylie Crawford, The Genesis of the Civil War: The Story of Sumter, 1860-1861, p. 125

John Lothrop Motley to Mary Benjamin Motley, Monday, July 22, 1861

Monday, July 22.

The battle was renewed yesterday at Bull Run, and, as I anticipated when I began this letter, the rebel batteries have been carried one after another, and the enemy beaten back to Manassas. A general engagement must now follow at once, unless they retreat toward Richmond. There is no need of my saying anything more, because the papers will give you, by telegraph to Halifax, later intelligence than I can possibly send. Perhaps the success which I now chronicle may not prove to be authentic. Yesterday Mr. William Dwight came over to Woodland Hill, and read us a couple of spirited letters from his son Wilder, major in the Massachusetts Second. It appears, as you will see in the papers, that Patterson has been superseded by Banks. This I hardly understand. Banks has great talent, and has generally succeeded in everything he has undertaken; but he is not an army man, and has had no experience in actual service. We are still in the dark here as to the important fact whether Johnston has retired from Winchester and effected his junction with Beauregard at Manassas, or whether he may still be cut off by the Patterson division moving from Charlestown. Of course you will get this information by Thursday's (25th) telegram to Halifax.

To their great disappointment, no doubt, Gordon's regiment has been detailed from the column to which it belonged, and has been sent from Charlestown to Harper's Ferry. It is a responsible and important duty, and the discipline and energy of this regiment were relied upon to quell all secession at so important a point in the rear, when the great advance was making into the heart of Virginia. But it is a great sell for Gordon and his comrades, for it keeps them for a time at a distance from the great scene of action. Wilder Dwight, in his letter, mentions cases in which the inhabitants of Martinsburg and its vicinity had been maltreated by the rebel army. After the occupation of the place by the Union troops, one evening, a farmer of the vicinity invited Gordon and his officers to supper. He said the rebels took from him and from all his neighbors everything they wanted, and paid nothing for them except receipts in the name of the Confederacy — and “there ain't any Confederacy,” he said. At Harper's Ferry he makes the same report. Women come in and tell of their husbands and sons having been impressed. Men complain of being driven from their homes, and of other maltreatment. And, in short, you have here, from an unimpeachable witness, evidence that, even in Eastern Virginia, the very hotbed of secession, the rebellion is not over-popular, and that the Stars and Stripes are hailed, by some of the inhabitants at least, as the symbols of deliverance from a reign of terror. I shall leave my letter open, in order to add a P. S. to-morrow.

P. S., July 23, 11:30 A. M.

Read this sheet first.

I have had half a dozen minds about sending you the foregoing pages. Since they were written the terrible defeat of Sunday evening has occurred. We are for the moment overwhelmed with gloom. I pity you and my children inexpressibly, to be alone there. On the whole, I have decided to send my letter as it stands. There is no doubt that our troops behaved admirably during the whole of Sunday; that they charged and carried battery after battery of rifled cannon; that the colonels of regiments led on their men on foot, rifle in hand, loading and firing like privates; that our men repeatedly crossed bayonets with the enemy and drove them off the field. This went on for nine hours. In the evening it appears that Johnston effected his junction with Beauregard, and then a panic, commenced by teamsters, together with reporters, members of Congress, and outsiders generally, who had no business on the field at all, was communicated to the troops, who fled in disorder. The accounts are very conflicting as to the behavior of our men after seven o'clock P. M. of Sunday.

There is no doubt that we have sustained a great defeat. The measure of our dishonor, which I thought last night so great as to make me hang my head forever, I cannot now thoroughly estimate. We must wait for the official reports, both as to the number of killed and wounded (which vary for our side from 4000 to 200!), and for the more important matter of deciding whether we have been utterly disgraced as well as defeated. In a brief note which I wrote early this morning I told you that I should send for you to come home immediately. I sympathize most deeply with your position. You have many kind friends — none can be kinder; but the situation admits of no consolation. Do not, however, believe the sensational reports which have harrowed us here yesterday. We were very much outnumbered; that is certain. We fought well the whole of the day, but we were outgeneraled and defeated aftr nine hours' hard fighting. Whether we have lost everything, even honor, cannot be decided for a few days. I shall try to write by the intermediate steamer, but certainly by the next Cunarder, this day week, and I will then let you know what I think you had best do. I don't feel now as if I could come into England again. Don't show this letter to any one. I hope you are not in London, and that you are with the Hugheses.

God bless you and my dear children.

Ever your affectionate

J. L. M.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 187-90

Major Wilder Dwight: July 31, 1861

MARYLAND HEIGHTS, DEP’T OF THE SHENANDOAH,

July 31, 1861, in Camp.

Three letters?! Yes, one from you, one from father, one from C. Blake, — all at once. The sun shines less fiercely, and the glaring afternoon has lost its power, or is forgotten. I write in the memory of yesterday. This morning the rattle of the rain-drops on my tent roused me before the regular reveillé of the drum, and I am writing now, after breakfast, to the same cool music. If you really like to listen to the monotony of our eventless experience, I cannot do less than to write it for you. Yesterday was a busy day. Battalion drill after breakfast, and then a ride with Colonel Gordon over the mountain to head-quarters. We climbed, by a rough path cut two months ago by the Rebels, to the very top of the mountain. There we found a picket from the Twelfth Massachusetts Regiment (Colonel Webster), and upon the lookout floated the American flag. After a wide survey and a view most glorious, we descended the other side of the mountain to head-quarters. There, business and a short chat with Major Doubleday, whose battery is there in position. By the new organization of brigades, Doubleday is in ours. He is of Fort Sumter fame, as you know, and is a fine fellow with a grand battery.

I wrote thus far yesterday evening, and was expecting a quiet rainy day, when out blazed the sun and kindled our work again. Rations were to be issued, &c., then, at noon, came the sudden order: “Pack wagons with everything, and prepare to bivouac for several days.” It seems head-quarters got frightened about our wagons. The road is so exposed that, in case of attack, they would certainly be lost. Our pretty encampment had to yield, therefore, to the necessities of war. It made a long afternoon, and when the tents were struck, the wagons loaded, and the balking and unwilling teams made to draw, we were enjoying another sunset. The men were sent into the woods to cut brush for huts, and there sprang up a camp of green leaves, as if by magic. I am now writing under a bower of chestnut leaves, and am quite fascinated by my new quarters. The inconvenience of sending off all your luggage, most of your bedding and camp furniture, is not a slight one. In the absence of other hardships and perils, one can make a hardship of that. Last night we had an animated time. Just after taps one of our pickets fired, and it turned out that a man was prowling through the bushes. Soon after an excited Indiana picket fired on our men in a small picket down the hill, and that kicked up a small bobbery. But the morning makes all quiet again. The mists are lifting from the river and hillsides, and the day is already started on its uncertain course again. The kitchen fires are smoking, the axes are ringing in the wood. “Jim along Josey,” or sick-call, has just sounded. The thoughts turn fondly on breakfast. Good by. Love to all.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 64-5

Brigadier-General John A. Rawlins to Mary Emeline Hurlburt Rawlins, April 24, 1864

Culpepper C. H., Va., April 24, 1864.

. . . The trees are beginning to put forth their leaves, and the fruit trees their blossoms; the green grass is making its appearance, and real spring is upon us. I rode out for exercise this afternoon and could but contrast the acts of our soldiers in fencing in and caring for the cemetery near here, in which is buried many hundreds of the enemy's dead, with the brutal massacre at Fort Pillow. How full of reverence for Christianity is the contrast in favor of our brave but humane soldiers. The dead and those who are captives with our army cease to be objects against which they war. All that religion demands in reverence of the one, and all that humanity requires in kindness to the other, is freely and willingly given by those who fight for our Democratic institutions beneath the bright banner of stripes and stars.

Enclosed I send you some lines written by Alfred B. Street on the presentation of war banners to the Legislature of New York. I think them decidedly beautiful and hope you will coincide with me in this opinion. I also send you by to-day's mail a late Richmond paper, from which we have the latest news from Plymouth, which is that that place was carried by storm on the 20th by the enemy, with a loss to us of full sixteen hundred men, besides armament, supplies, etc. This place had held out stubbornly, and we were in hopes all would be safe after they had repulsed the first assaults. This comes of the Government persistently urging the holding of places for political effect on the people in the seceding States and abroad, also for the protection of such of the inhabitants as commit themselves to our side. General Butler had asked permission to withdraw the troops from Plymouth some time since, but the reasons urged, as I heard him state to General Grant, were the ones I have just recited. If the force was to stay at Plymouth, then capture will not materially affect us, for they were virtually dead to the service while they remained there, at any rate. I hope that Policy will after a while have discovered that she can only succeed through force of arms, and that force should be made as strong as possible and as compact, and be directed with energy against one point at a time. In this way only can we succeed. . . .

SOURCE: James H. Wilson, The Life of John A. Rawlins, p. 423-4