Diary of Caroline Cowles Richards: May 1861

Many of the young men are going from Canandaigua and all the neighboring towns. It seems very patriotic and grand when they are singing, “It is sweet, Oh, 'tis sweet, for one's country to die,” and we hear the martial music and see the flags flying and see the recruiting tents on the square and meet men in uniform at every turn and see train loads of the boys in blue going to the front, but it will not seem so grand if we hear they are dead on the battlefield, far from home. A lot of us girls went down to the train and took flowers to the soldiers as they were passing through and they cut buttons from their coats and gave to us as souvenirs. We have flags on our paper and envelopes, and have all our stationery bordered with red, white and blue. We wear little flag pins for badges and tie our hair with red, white and blue ribbon and have pins and earrings made of the buttons the soldiers gave us. We are going to sew for them in our society and get the garments all cut from the older ladies' society. They work every day in one of the rooms of the court house and cut out garments and make them and scrape lint and roll up bandages. They say they will provide us with all the garments we will make. We are going to write notes and enclose them in the garments to cheer up the soldier boys.

It does not seem now as though I could give up any one who belonged to me. The girls in our society say that if any of the members do send a soldier to the war they shall have a flag bed quilt, made by the society, and have the girls' names on the stars.

SOURCE: Caroline Cowles Richards, Village Life in America, 1852-1872, p. 131-2

Sarah Hildreth Butler to Brigadier-General Benjamin F. Butler, April 27, 1861

LoweLL, April (27), 1861

DEAREST: We are still in doubt where you are, but think you must be in Washington by this. Mr. Kimball told me today a letter came from his father yesterday saying you would go to Washington directly. And Mrs. Kimball said, from the Dr., that you’re astonishing everybody by your executive ability.

I wrote a note and sent it by Harriet, but feel no certainty you will get it. She has gone with Mr. Read, for Blanche. But whether they will get through we cannot tell. There has been great fear that Washington would be attacked and defeated before our troops arrived. That accounts for our sending for Blanche. I don’t know but you will think it premature. I shall send this by Dr. Kimball if he goes in a day or two. And now how do you like this life? Will the glorious excitement more than balance the labour and anxiety? I hope so. One who strives as you do ought to meet his reward somewhere. I do not much like these last lines but I must leave them. The fact is I am so down I could cry outright sometimes, but that I must bestir myself for others. Jackson must be of infinite service to you in every way. I am so glad he is with you now. To think of you there alone would be intolerable. Monday, got your telegram. Feel more easy. Tuesday, your short letter came. I shall send this by the same person who brought yours. I should like to go if it would answer, and you are to be there any time. Gilman is crazy to start; he would enlist if he thought you would not send for him. Brady is starting a company to be called the Butler Rifle Guards. Everybody is wild with excitement. The ladies are making soldiers’ shirts and rolling up bandages. I would gladly go to you if you would not find me an incumbrance.

Always yours,

SARAH

SOURCE: Jessie Ames Marshall, Editor, Private and Official Correspondence of Gen. Benjamin F. Butler During the Period of the Civil War, Volume 1: April 1860 – June 1862, p. 51-2

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 31, 1862, Night

The ambulances are coming in with our wounded. They report that all the enemy's strong defenses were stormed, just as we could perceive from the sounds. They say that our brave men suffered much in advancing against the intrenchments, exposed to the fire of cannon and small arms, without being able to see the foe under their shelter; but when they leaped over the breastworks and turned the enemy's guns on them, our loss was more than compensated. Our men were shot in front; the enemy in the back — and terrible was the slaughter. We got their tents, all standing, and a sumptuous repast that had just been served up when the battle began. Gen. Casey's headquarters were taken, and his plate and smoking viands were found on his table. His papers fell into our hands. We got a large amount of stores and refreshments, so much needed by our poor braves! There were boxes of lemons, oranges, brandies and wines, and all the luxuries of distant lauds which enter the unrestricted ports of the United States. These things were narrated by the pale and bleeding soldiers, who smiled in triumph at their achievement. Not one in the long procession of ambulances uttered a complaint. Did they really suffer pain from their wounds? This question was asked by thousands, and the reply was, “not much.” Women and children and slaves are wending to the hospitals, with baskets of refreshments, lint, and bandages. Every house is offered for a hospital, and every matron and gentle daughter, a tender nurse.

But how fares it with the invader? Unable to recross the swollen Chickahominy, the Yankees were driven into an almost impenetrable swamp, where they must pass the night in water up to their knees. The wounded borne off by them will have no ministrations from their sisters and mothers, and their dead are abandoned on the field. If Huger had come up at the time appointed, the enemy would have been ruined.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 130-1