Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 4, 1862

A splendid aurora borealis last night.

Yesterday, most of the delegation in Congress from Kentucky and Tennessee petitioned the President to order Gen. Breckinridge, at Knoxville, to march to the relief of Nashville, and expel the enemy, without waiting for orders from Gen. Bragg, now in Kentucky. The President considers this an extraordinary request, and will not, I suppose, grant it.

It is said Gen. Lee is advancing against Gen. McClellan at Martinsburg. If Lee attacks him, and beats him, he will probably be ruined, for the Potomac will be in his rear.

The enemy's paper, printed at Nashville, thinks Bragg has taken Louisville. I hope so. I think we shall get Nashville soon.

Gen. Butler, the Yankee commander in New Orleans, has issued an order to all the inhabitants of that city, sympathizing with the Southern Confederacy, to present themselves immediately, and take the oath of allegiance, when they will be recommended for pardon. If they do not comply with the order, they will be arrested by his police, cast into prison, and their property confiscated. These are the orders which rally our men and make them fight like heroes. How many Yankees will bleed and die in consequence of this order? And Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation will seal the doom of one hundred thousand of his own people!

A letter from Gen. Lee, dated October 1st, says that McClellan has not crossed the Potomac. Some of his scouts have been at Martinsburg, or in its vicinity. It is not to be supposed that Lee can be, amused by McClellan, while a force of any magnitude is sent against Richmond. Some fear this, but I don't.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 163-4

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 28, 1861

We have a flaming comet in the sky. It comes unannounced, and takes a northwestern course. I dreamed last night that I saw a great black ball moving in the heavens, and it obscured the moon. The stars were in motion, visibly, and for a time afforded the only light. Then a brilliant halo illuminated the zenith like the quick-shooting irradiations of the aurora boroalis. And men ran in different directions, uttering cries of agony. These cries, I remember distinctly, came from men. As I gazed upon the fading and dissolving moon, I thought of the war brought upon us, and the end of the United States Government. My family were near, all of them, and none seemed alarmed or distressed. I experienced no perturbation; but I awoke. I felt curious to prolong the vision, but sleep had fled. I was gratified, however, to be conscious of the fact that in this illusory view of the end of all things sublunary, I endured no pangs of remorse or misgivings of the new existence it seemed we were about to enter upon.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 56