Diary of Sarah Morgan: Wednesday, May 28, 1862

A day to be forever remembered, — as luck would have it, we rose very early, and had breakfast sooner than usual, it would seem for the express design of becoming famished before dinner. I picked up some of my letters and papers and set them where I could find them whenever we were ready to go to Greenwell, burning a pile of trash and leaving a quantity equally worthless, which were of no value even to myself except from association. I was packing up my traveling-desk with all Harry's little articles that were left to me, and other things, and I was saying to myself that my affairs were in such confusion that if obliged to run unexpectedly I would not know what to save, when I heard Lilly's voice downstairs, crying as she ran in — she had been out shopping — “Mr. Castle has killed a Federal officer on a ship, and they are going to shell —” Bang! went a cannon at the word, and that was all our warning.

Mother had just come in, and was lying down, but sprang to her feet and added her screams to the general confusion. Miriam, who had been searching the libraries, ran up to quiet her; Lilly gathered her children, crying hysterically all the time, and ran to the front door with them as they were; Lucy saved the baby, naked as she took her from her bath, only throwing a quilt over her. I bethought me of my “running-bag” which I had used on a former case, and in a moment my few precious articles were secured under my hoops, and with a sunbonnet on, I stood ready for anything.

The firing still continued; they must have fired half a dozen times before we could coax mother off. What awful screams! I had hoped never to hear them again, after Harry died. Charlie had gone to Greenwell before daybreak, to prepare the house, so we four women, with all those children and servants, were left to save ourselves. I did not forget my poor little Jimmy; I caught up his cage and ran down. Just at this moment mother recovered enough to insist on saving father's papers — which was impossible, as she had not an idea of where the important ones were. I heard Miriam plead, argue, insist, command her to run; Lilly shriek, and cry she should go; the children screaming within; women running by with out, crying and moaning; but I could not join in. I was going I knew not where; it was impossible to take my bird, for even if I could carry him, he would starve. So I took him out of his cage, kissed his little yellow head, and tossed him up. He gave one feeble little chirp as if to ascertain where to go, and then for the first and last time I cried, laying my head against the gate-post, and with my eyes too dim to see him. Oh, how it hurt me to lose my little bird, one Jimmy had given me, too!

But the next minute we were all off, in safety. A square from home, I discovered that boy shoes were not the most comfortable things to run in, so I ran back, in spite of cannonading, entreaties, etc., to get another pair. I got home, found an old pair that were by no means respectable, which I seized without hesitation; and being perfectly at ease, thought it would be so nice to save at least Miriam's and my tooth-brushes, so slipped them in my corsets. These in, of course we must have a comb — that was added — then how could we stand the sun without starch to cool our faces? This included the powder-bag; then I must save that beautiful lace collar; and my hair was tumbling down, so in went the tucking-comb and hair-pins with the rest; until, if there had been any one to speculate, they would have wondered a long while at the singular appearance of a girl who is considered as very slight, usually. By this time, Miriam, alarmed for me, returned to find me, though urged by Dr. Castleton not to risk her life by attempting it, and we started off together.

We had hardly gone a square when we decided to return a second time, and get at least a few articles for the children and ourselves, who had nothing except what we happened to have on when the shelling commenced. She picked up any little things and threw them to me, while I filled a pillow-case jerked from the bed, and placed my powder and brushes in it with the rest. Before we could leave, mother, alarmed for us both, came to find us, with Tiche.¹ All this time they had been shelling, but there was quite a lull when she got there, and she commenced picking up father's papers, vowing all the time she would not leave. Every argument we could use was of no avail, and we were desperate as to what course to pursue, when the shelling recommenced in a few minutes. Then mother recommenced her screaming and was ready to fly anywhere; and holding her box of papers, with a faint idea of saving something, she picked up two dirty underskirts and an old cloak.

By dint of Miriam's vehement appeals, aided by a great deal of pulling, we got her down to the back door. We had given our pillow-case to Tiche, who added another bundle and all our silver to it, and had already departed.

As we stood in the door, four or five shells sailed over our heads at the same time, seeming to make a perfect corkscrew of the air, — for it sounded as though it went in circles. Miriam cried, "Never mind the door!" mother screamed anew, and I stayed behind to lock the door, with this new music in my ears. We reached the back gate, that was on the street, when another shell passed us, and Miriam jumped behind the fence for protection. We had only gone half a square when Dr. Castleton begged us to take another street, as they were firing up that one. We took his advice, but found our new street worse than the old, for the shells seemed to whistle their strange songs with redoubled vigor. The height of my ambition was now attained. I had heard Jimmy laugh about the singular sensation produced by the rifled balls spinning around one's head; and here I heard the same peculiar sound, ran the same risk, and was equal to the rest of the boys, for was I not in the midst of flying shells, in the middle of a bombardment? I think I was rather proud of it.

We were alone on the road, — all had run away before, — so I thought it was for our especial entertainment, this little affair. I cannot remember how long it lasted; I am positive that the clock struck ten before I left home, but I had been up so long, I know not what time it began, though I am told it was between eight and nine. We passed the graveyard, we did not even stop, and about a mile and a half from home, when mother was perfectly exhausted with fatigue and unable to proceed farther, we met a gentleman in a buggy who kindly took charge of her and our bundles. We could have walked miles beyond, then, for as soon as she was safe we felt as though a load had been removed from our shoulders; and after exhorting her not to be uneasy about us, and reminding her we had a pistol and a dagger, — I had secured a “for true” one the day before, fortunately, — she drove off, and we trudged on alone, the only people in sight on foot, though occasionally carriages and buggies would pass, going towards town. One party of gentlemen put their heads out and one said, “There are Judge Morgan's daughters sitting by the road!” —but I observed he did not offer them the slightest assistance. However, others were very kind. One I never heard of had volunteered to go for us, and bring us to mother, when she was uneasy about our staying so long, when we went home to get clothes. We heard him ring and knock, but, thinking it must be next door, paid no attention, so he went back and mother came herself.

We were two miles away when we sat down by the road to rest, and have a laugh. Here were two women married, and able to take care of themselves, flying for their lives and leaving two lorn girls alone on the road, to protect each other! To be sure, neither could help us, and one was not able to walk, and the other had helpless children to save; but it was so funny when we talked about it, and thought how sorry both would be when they regained their reason! While we were yet resting, we saw a cart coming, and, giving up all idea of our walking to Greenwell, called the people to stop. To our great delight, it proved to be a cart loaded with Mrs. Brunot's affairs, driven by two of her negroes, who kindly took us up with them, on the top of their luggage; and we drove off in state, as much pleased at riding in that novel place as though we were accustomed to ride in wheelbarrows. Miriam was in a hollow between a flour barrel and a mattress; and I at the end, astride, I am afraid, of a tremendous bundle, for my face was down the road and each foot resting very near the sides of the cart. I tried to make a better arrangement, though, after a while. These servants were good enough to lend us their umbrella, without which I am afraid we would have suffered severely, for the day was intensely warm. Three miles from town we began to overtake the fugitives. Hundreds of women and children were walking along, some bareheaded, and in all costumes. Little girls of twelve and fourteen were wandering on alone. I called to one I knew, and asked where her mother was; she didn't know; she would walk on until she found out. It seems her mother lost a nursing baby, too, which was not found until ten that night. White and black were all mixed together, and were as confidential as though related. All called to us and asked where we were going, and many we knew laughed at us for riding on a cart; but as they had walked only five miles, I imagined they would like even these poor accommodations if they were in their reach.

The negroes deserve the greatest praise for their conduct. Hundreds were walking with babies or bundles; ask them what they had saved, it was invariably, “My mistress's clothes, or silver, or baby.” Ask what they had for themselves, it was, “Bless your heart, honey, I was glad to get away with mistress's things; I didn't think ’bout mine.”

It was a heart-rending scene. Women searching for their babies along the road, where they had been lost; others sitting in the dust crying and wringing their hands; for by this time we had not an idea but what Baton Rouge was either in ashes, or being plundered, and we had saved nothing. I had one dress, Miriam two, but Tiche had them, and we had lost her before we left home.

Presently we came on a guerrilla camp. Men and horses were resting on each side of the road, some sick, some moving about carrying water to the women and children, and all looking like a monster barbecue, for as far as the eye could see through the woods, was the same repetition of men and horses. They would ask for the news, and one, drunk with excitement or whiskey, informed us that it was our own fault if we had saved nothing, the people must have been fools not to have known trouble would come before long, and that it was the fault of the men, who were aware of it, that the women were thus forced to fly. In vain we pleaded that there was no warning, no means of foreseeing this; he cried, “You are ruined; so am I; and my brothers, too! And by there is nothing left but to die now, and I'll die!” “Good!” I said. “But die fighting for us!” He waved his hand, black with powder, and shouted, “That I will!” after us. That was the only swearing guerrilla we met; the others seemed to have too much respect for us to talk loud.

Lucy had met us before this; early in the action, Lilly had sent her back to get some baby-clothes, but a shell exploding within a few feet of her, she took alarm, and ran up another road, for three miles, when she cut across the plantations and regained the Greenwell route. It is fortunate that, without consultation, the thought of running here should have seized us all.

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¹ Mrs. Morgan's negro maid, Catiche.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 39-47

John M. Forbes to Edward Atkinson, May 23, 1862

Boston, May 23,1862.

My Dear, Sir, — . . . I would gladly do anything, except come before the public, to help your good work. You may use my testimony in any other way than over my signature, and the indorsements of the “Daily”¹ and other journals would seem to answer all purposes. I have watched the Educational Commission from its very inception with the greatest interest, and, while in Secessia, had every opportunity to gauge it, not only by the criticisms of its many enemies, and by the statements of its friends, but by personal observation. It was started very late, and when only the most prompt and even hasty measures gave it a chance of success. These measures were taken chiefly at Boston, with that efficiency which marks our good city and State. A large number of volunteers were hurried from various pursuits, down into South Carolina, where, in about ten days after the enterprise was first thought of, they found themselves landed, with bare floors to sleep upon, soldier's rations to eat, and the obloquy and ridicule of all around them for “sauce piquante.”

Under all their inexperience, and all these disadvantages, they have worked their way quietly on, and up to the time when I left, May 14th, when the new rule of military governor was about beginning, they had accomplished the following results.

First and foremost. They had inspired confidence in the blacks by their kindness, and especially by their bringing the first boon which these forlorn creatures had received from us, namely, an opportunity for education. In all else the negroes have been materially worse off than under their old masters, — with only their scanty ration of Indian corn, no shoes, blankets, clothing, molasses, or other necessaries, and no luxuries given them, of which they formerly had a moderate allowance. Against all this they had had only the doubtful advantage of idleness or precarious employment, and the promises of the cotton agents. It was a great point to put over them intelligent and Christian teachers, and this they have fully appreciated.

Second. The material benefits which have resulted, namely: beginning very late, the forces of the plantation have been organized to reasonably steady labor; a full crop of food has been planted in common, besides many much larger private, or, as these are called, “Negro Grounds,” planted than ever before. I saw repeatedly whole gangs who had finished their plantation work by ten A. M., and had all the rest of the day for their own patches, some of which are four or five times as large as usual.

Third. In addition to the food crop, enough cotton land has been planted to give the negroes, if they are allowed to take care of the crop and enjoy its fruits, more of the necessaries and indeed comforts of life than they have ever had before.

To sum up, we have then for some of the results,

The confidence of the blacks;

The education, so far as it goes;

The encouragement of industry; and

The material advantage of food and cotton crops;

instead of leaving the negroes alone to run into vice and pauperism, or turning them over to the tender mercies of hard speculators.

Of course, the agents of the commission have made mistakes in some cases, and some of them have been ill chosen, and have helped the enemies of the enterprise to bring it into local discredit; but generally the whole has been a most successful undertaking, and most of those sent from this quarter have, by their patience, faithfulness, and disinterested zeal, been a credit to Massachusetts. They, as a whole, form a noble band of men and women. They have had everything to contend with, especially the opposition of many with whose interests they interfered, and of others whose prejudices they offended. Their predecessors on the plantations, the cotton agents and military, had begun to look upon themselves as the successors to the planters, entitled to the use of all that was left, houses, horses, negroes, crops.

When the agents of the commission came down to take charge of the plantations, they were looked upon as interlopers, and in most cases every obstacle, short of absolute disobedience to the orders of the commanding general, was thrown in their way. All the little mistakes of the new-comers were magnified; all the good they did ignored, and a local public opinion thus created against them, which many of our own soldiers, who ought to have known better, gave in to. “What a ridiculous thing for these philanthropists to come down and teach the stupid negroes, and occupy the plantations, and use the secesh ponies which had been so convenient for our pickets!”

Such was the natural feeling of the unthinking, and of some who ought to have reflected. This false opinion was largely availed of by the “Herald” and other kindred papers, to create prejudice at the North against an enterprise aiming to improve the condition of the blacks. How much more satisfactory to this class would it have been to have had the negroes left to their own devices, and then given all the enemies of improvement a chance to say, “We told you so! The negroes are worse off than before, — idle, vicious, paupers. The sooner you reduce them to slavery again, and the more firmly you bind the rest of their race to eternal slavery, the better!”

It would take too long to go into the question of what is to be done hereafter; but there was an emergency three months ago which has, in my opinion, been successfully met; and among other results I believe you will have the testimony of all who have been engaged in the experiment, that it has distinctly proved that the negro has the same selfish element in him which induces other men to labor. Give him only a fair prospect of benefit from his labor, and he will work like other human beings. Doubtless hereafter this selfish element must be appealed to more than it could be by the agents of the commission. There must be less working in common, and more done for the especial benefit of each laborer. It is much to establish the fact that this element of industry exists.

In conclusion, I consider the Educational Commission up to this time a decided success. I congratulate you and your associates upon having added another to the good deeds of Massachusetts, not by any means forgetting the share which New York has had in the good work; and I sincerely hope that General Saxton, cooperating with you, may in a manner worthy of his high reputation complete what has been so well begun.

Very truly yours,

J. M. Forbes.

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¹ The Boston Daily Advertiser.

SOURCE: Sarah Forbes Hughes, Letters and Recollections of John Murray Forbes, Volume 1, p. 309-13

John M. Forbes to N. M. Beckwith, January 24, 1862

Boston, January 24, 1862.

. . . Barren proclamations to those beyond our reach will just now hurt Kentucky and the Northern harmony more than it will help the cause; treating slaves well that we do reach is the best preparation, and best proclamation to others. I saw in New York one of the blacks (yellow), [who was] carried off and sold from the Star of the West when captured. He said the slaves knew in the most distant plantations how we used those who came to us, and that much stress was laid upon the return by our soldiers of a few fugitives! He says intelligence runs fast through the plantations, and he thinks a proclamation of freedom, following up well-attested good faith to those who had come in, would have great effect. In the same “Post” you will find an editorial upon the sinews of war: containing much good financial doctrine.

We were just going over the dam into an irredeemable currency about a week ago, when a few of us made a rally for the doctrines of that editorial! and we saved it for the time, brought Chase over half way, where he would by the logic of events have been soon forced to come all right, but the horde of debtors, and gamblers, and fools, with the “Herald” at their head, are at it again, and the result is still doubtful. With such leaders, what but a sturdy Anglo-Saxon people, or a miracle-dealing God, can save us from destruction! If we survive the military and diplomatic and financial blunders, it will be because we are the strongest people and have the strongest government on the face of the earth! I was in New York last week seeing Will off to the war, — to Beaufort with his regiment, the First Massachusetts Cavalry; a hard trial for his mother — but we must do our share, and if he goes to the Spirit Land, we may not be long behind. . . .

SOURCE: Sarah Forbes Hughes, Letters and Recollections of John Murray Forbes, Volume 1, p. 287-8

Nathaniel Hawthorne to Horatio Bridge, May 26, 1861

Concord, May 26, 1861.

My Dear Bridge, — . . . The war, strange to say, has had a beneficial effect upon my spirits, which were flagging wofully before it broke out. But it was delightful to share in the heroic sentiment of the time, and to feel that I had a country, — a consciousness which seemed to make me young again. One thing as regards this matter I regret, and one thing I am glad of. The regrettable thing is that I am too old to shoulder a musket myself, and the joyful thing is that Julian is too young. He drills constantly with a company of lads, and means to enlist as soon as he reaches the minimum age. But I trust we shall either be victorious or vanquished before that time. Meantime, though I approve the war as much as any man, I don't quite understand what we are fighting for, or what definite result can be expected. If we pummel the South ever so hard, they will love us none the better for it; and even if we subjugate them, our next step should be to cut them adrift. If we are fighting for the annihilation of slavery, to be sure it may be a wise object, and offer a tangible result, and the only one which is consistent with a future union between North and South. A continuance of the war would soon make this plain to us, and we should see the expediency of preparing our black brethren for future citizenship by allowing them to fight for their own liberties, and educating them through heroic influences. Whatever happens next, I must say that I rejoice that the old Union is smashed. We never were one people, and never really had a country since the Constitution was formed. . . .

Nath. Hawthorne

SOURCE: Julian Hawthorne,  Nathaniel Hawthorne and His Wife: A Biography, Vol. 2, p. 276-7

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to John M. Forbes, August 12, 1863

Centreville, Aug. 12, '63.

I am very sorry that the conscription is being made such a farce — somebody must be neglecting his duty shamefully.

I agree with you that we are likely to get more aid from blacks than from conscripts, — States seem to me likely to fall short of their quotas, even when the second class is reached. Might not an impulse be given to recruiting contrabands in territory still recognized as rebel by enlisting State enterprise? For example, let Massachusetts organize a skeleton Brigade (as in case of Colonel Wilde), and for every two thousand men obtained receive credit for one thousand on her quota and take the $300 per man (or any less sum the Government would allow) to pay expenses of getting the two men. I know there are grave objections to such a scheme, but I believe the work of recruiting would go on with far more success.

I feel all that you say about “inglorious warfare,” but it is “all in the day's work,” Mr. Forbes, — and has to be done. You must not exaggerate the danger. Mosby is more keen to plunder than to murder, — he always runs when he can.¹ As to insignia of rank, I never encourage my officers to wear any conspicuously, nor do I think most of them are distinguishable at 100 yards. I have my private feeling about the matter, — and if I am to be shot from behind a fence would still rather be in uniform than out of it. I never express this feeling to my officers, however, Mr. Forbes.

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¹ A letter of General Lee to General Stuart shows that, before the “Partisan Rangers” had been four months at work, the military advantages to the Confederacy of their keeping a large force around Washington already began to be outweighed by the obvious evils which must result where discipline was lax, and the soldier kept what horses, clothing, arms, and valuables he took. General Lee, writing on August 18, 1863, observes that Mosby seems to have a large number of men, yet to strike with very few; and “his attention seems more directed to the capture of sutlers' wagons, etc., than to the injury of the enemy's communications and outposts. The capture and destruction of wagon-trains is advantageous, but the supply of the Federal Army is carried on by the railroad.  . . . I do not know the cause for undertaking his expeditions with so few men, whether it is from policy, or the difficulty of collecting them. I have heard of his men, among them officers, being in rear of this army, selling captured goods, sutlers' stores, etc. This had better be attended to by others. It has also been reported to me that many deserters from the army had joined him.  . . . If this is true, I am sure it must be without the knowledge of Major Mosby.” {Rebellion Record.)

The official correspondence of General King with headquarters at Washington, and Colonel Lowell's reports, always brief, business-like and conservative, show that August was an active month. Besides Mosby's plundering incursions and picket attacks, he had a new guerrilla foe to deal with in White, as appears in the following extracts from official sources: —

Centreville, Aug. 1, 1863.

Col. J. H. Taylor, Chief Of Staff, Washington, — Colonel Lowell goes to Washington to-day to report, as ordered. He returned from an expedition last night, bringing in about twenty horses captured from Mosby, and all the prisoners taken by Mosby at Fairfax. The gang scattered in all directions, and thus eluded pursuit.

Rufus King, Brigadier-General.

Mosby reports to General Stuart that, on August 11, he captured nineteen wagons, with teams and many stores; also twenty-five prisoners.

On August 12, Colonel Lowell reported to Washington the recent capture of sutlers' trains by Mosby's and White's men, and that he had sent out parties to look for them, and adds:

“I sent in 61 horses on Monday and 55 more to-day, most of them United States horses, some captured, some collected to the northwest of here, and some near Maple Valley.”

August 15. Colonel Lowell advised from Washington to try to find and attack White near Dranesville.

August 20. Colonel Lowell reports his search for guerrillas, lasting two or three days, following up all traces — “could not get a fight out of White” — picked up ten prisoners. Reports that White is seldom with his battalion (about two hundred and fifty strong), but passes about the country with a strong escort. “White is looking up recruits and deserters. He has now six companies, with over 700 men on his rolls, and prisoners say that he expects to take that number with him when he leaves the country.”

August 25. General King reports to Washington that one hundred rebel cavalry attacked a party of the Thirteenth N. Y. Cavalry [this was a part of Colonel Lowell's brigade] and ran off one hundred horses.

August 30. General King reports that a party of infantry and cavalry, sent out to Dranesville, found few guerrillas, but learned that White was at Broad Run enforcing the conscription, and that Mosby had been recently wounded and carried beyond the mountains.

September 3. General Humphreys writes to Colonel Lowell, commanding at Centreville, as to White's movements, and adds, “A Richmond paper of 1st Sept. states that Mosby received two serious wounds in the fight near Fairfax Court House, and has been taken to his father's residence near Amherst.”

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 295-6, 439-42

The President on Emancipation.

If proof were wanting of the patriotic ardor of the President for the peace and well being of the country, it would be found abundantly in the message sent yesterday to Congress. Mr. Lincoln appreciates the infinite difficulty of the Slavery question. He evidently despairs of prostrating the institution by force of the war-power; he looks to its existence in full vigor, throughout the Gulf States at least, when the war shall have ended. The utmost reach of his practical dealing with the subject is to strip it of political influence in National affairs. To effect this capital object, there is certainly no way so sure as to destroy the identity of interest between Border Slave States and those at the southward; and this object the President's suggestion proposes to attain. It takes the form of a joint resolution submitted to the consideration of Congress. The possibility of one or more States discovering the impolicy of retaining slave-labor is assumed. To such the joint resolution offers pecuniary aid in the task of emancipation, by engaging to pay a sum prefixed for each enslaved negro set at liberty. This bounty the President evidently believes will turn the scale in favor of freedom. Satisfied of the good faith of the National Government in its professions of non-intervention in the legislation of the States, the States will be ready to look favorably upon a plan which, while it makes the merit of the act of emancipation their own, throws the cost elsewhere. And as the plan is adopted, one after another of the northerly Slave States will array themselves on the side of the free communities of the North.

In considering the Presidential project, a number of difficulties will no doubt suggest themselves to Congress. Any State disposed to part with its negroes will naturally offer them in the best market. The extreme South, in the supposition raised by Mr. Lincoln that Slavery will there retain all its vitality, will compete with the North in the purchase of the discarded labor; and must of necessity offer prices which the North will be unable to pay. When peace shall be restored -- always assuming the President to be right in regard to Slavery in the Gulf States – Kentucky will be able to get $130,000,000 for her negroes at the South, while the North, presupposing the round price of $200 – the highest rate heretofore named, and considered practicable – would be able to offer only one-third of that amount. If by an act of gradual emancipation Kentucky is thus able at any moment to get the larger sum for her slaves, what temptation to the passage of such an act will be the offer of the smaller? Congress will also have to weigh well that incessantly recurring question, what shall be done with the negroes when freed? Their freedom in any border State will no doubt be followed by their expulsion. Even from Illinois, Mr. Lincoln's immediate State, the blacks are about to be expelled. Will it not be necessary for the National Government to provide also for their removal from the country, and their colonization and christianization in a new and distant home? And will not this cost, added to the other, constitute a total from which the country, already startled at the coming terror of war taxation, will draw back appalled ? We fear that the Presidential plan will not achieve the good for which it is so patriotically designed. It will not induce any Slave State to discard Slavery; it will not, therefore, weaken any of the ties between the collective Slave States. It will offer no sufficient reason for departing, even in appearance, from the doctrine that, with Slavery in the States, the National Government has no concern whatever. It will be attended with an expense too overwhelming to be regarded favorably by a people who have already upon their shoulders the burden present and prospective of a debt of several thousands of millions – a burden placed there by Slavery. But let the plan have full discussion; let it also have full credit, as evidence that the Government contemplates no forcible interference with the institutions of any State, rebellious or loyal, and desirable good may grow out of it.

– Published in The New York Times, March 7, 1862

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: April 3, 1863

Mr. P. has put us upon soldiers' rations in regard to meat; once a day, a quarter of a pound apiece for the whites, and a half pound for the blacks. The soldiers have only a quarter of a pound of bacon, and a pound of bread.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 161

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to William Whiting, June 26, 1863

Camp Near Poolesville,

Headquarters 2d Mass. Cavalry, June 26,1863.

Hon. William Whiting, Solicitor Of War Department:

Dear Sir, — Have you seen in the newspapers (our own and the rebel) the account of the destruction of Darien by our black troops, — a deserted town burned in apparent wantonness? If this were done by order, I cannot think that the effect of such orders has been duly considered. I know how constantly you have been in favour of employing negroes as soldiers, and how much you have done to aid it, and I write in the hope that, if you find my views just, you may some time help to prevent the repetition of such expeditions.

If burning and pillaging is to be the work of our black regiments, no first-rate officers will be found to accept promotion in them, — it is not war, it is piracy more outrageous than that of Semmes.¹ Without first-rate officers (and even with them) expeditions in which pillaging is attempted by order will infallibly degenerate into raids in which indiscriminate pillaging will be the rule, and, instead of finding ourselves at the end of the summer with an army of disciplined blacks, we shall have a horde of savages not fit to fight alongside of our white troops, if fit to fight at all. Public opinion is not yet decided in favour of black troops; it is merely suspended, in order to see the experiment tried. I do not believe it can be made favourable to their employment if it sees only such results as these: unfavourable public opinion will still further increase the difficulty of getting good officers, — and so on ad infinitum.

Of the absolute right and wrong of the case, I say nothing, — and of the effect upon the black race, — for those are outside questions: but in a military point of view, I think the net result of Darien expeditions will be against us. Expeditions to help off negroes and to interfere with corn crops are too important a mode of injuring the rebels to be neglected: if made by well-disciplined blacks, kept always well in hand, they could be carried far into the interior and made of great service; but troops demoralized by pillage and by the fear of retaliation, which would be the natural consequence of such pillage, will not often venture out of sight of gunboats. I have done what I could for the coloured regiments by recommending the best officers of my acquaintance for promotion in them, and I was very sorry to see that one Company of our Fifty-Fourth Regiment (in which I had taken an especial interest) was at Darien: I can fancy the feelings of the officers. This is written in haste, and is written loosely, but I wanted to call your attention to the matter. Always with respect and regard,

Your obedient servant,

C. R. Lowell, Jr.

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¹ Semmes commanded the rebel privateer Alabama, which did enormous mischief to our commerce, by burning ships at sea.

Colonel Lowell was, in the following year, obliged, under orders of Grant and Sheridan, to take part in the wholesale destruction of crops and factories, and driving off of cattle in the Shenandoah Valley, but this was an important strategic measure to cut off supplies from a great storehouse and highway of the Confederate armies.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 265-7, 427-8

Diary of William Howard Russell: Good Friday, March 29, 1861

The religious observance of the day was not quite as strict as it would be in England. The Puritan aversion to ceremonials and formulary observances has apparently affected the American world, even as far south as this. The people of color were in the streets dressed in their best. The first impression produced by fine bonnets, gay shawls, brightly-colored dresses, and silk brodequins, on black faces, flat figures, and feet to match, is singular; but, in justice to the backs of many of the gaudily-dressed women, who, in little groups, were going to church or chapel, it must be admitted that this surprise only came upon one when he got a front view. The men generally affected black coats, silk or satin waistcoats, and parti-colored pantaloons. They carried Missal or Prayer-book, pocket-handkerchief, cane, or parasol, with infinite affectation of correctness.

As I was looking out of the window, a very fine, tall young negro, dressed irreproachably, save as to hat and boots, passed by. “I wonder what he is?” I exclaimed inquiringly to a gentleman who stood beside me. “Well,” he said, “that fellow is not a free nigger; he looks too respectable. I dare say you could get him for 1500 dollars, without his clothes. You know,” continued he, “what our Minister said when he saw a nigger at some Court in Europe, and was asked what he thought of him: ‘Well, I guess,’ said he, ‘if you take off his fixings, he may be worth 1000 dollars down.’” In the course of the day. Mr. Banks, a corpulent, energetic young Virginian, of strong Southern views, again called on me. As the friend of the Southern Commissioners he complained vehemently of the refusal of Mr. Seward to hold intercourse with him. “These fellows mean treachery, but we will balk them.” In answer to a remark of mine, that the English Minister would certainly refuse to receive Commissioners from any part of the Queen's dominions which had seized upon the forts and arsenals of the empire and menaced war, he replied: “The case is quite different. The Crown claims a right to govern the whole of your empire; but the Austrian Government could not refuse to receive a deputation from Hungary for an adjustment of grievances; nor could any State belonging to the German Diet attempt to claim sovereignty over another, because they were members of the same Confederation.” I remarked “that his views of the obligations of each State of the Union were perfectly new to me, as a stranger ignorant of the controversies which distracted them. An Englishman had nothing to do with a Virginian and New Yorkist, or a South Carolinian — he scarcely knew anything of a Texan, or of an Arkansian; we only were conversant with the United States as an entity; and all our dealings were with citizens of the United States of North America.” This, however, only provoked logically diffuse dissertations on the Articles of the Constitution, and on the spirit of the Federal Compact.

Later in the day, I had the advantage of a conversation with Mr. Truman Smith, an old and respected representative in former days, who gave me a very different account of the matter; and who maintained that by the Federal Compact each State had delegated irrevocably the essence of its sovereignty to a Government to be established in perpetuity for the benefit of the whole body. The Slave States, seeing that the progress of free ideas, and the material power of the North, were obtaining an influence which must be subversive of the supremacy they had so long exercised in the Federal Government for their own advantage, had developed this doctrine of States' Rights as a cloak to treason, preferring the material advantages to be gained by the extension of their system to the grand moral position which they would occupy as a portion of the United States in the face of all the world. It is on such radical differences of ideas as these, that the whole of the quarrel, which is widening every day, is founded. The Federal Compact, at the very outset, was written on a torn sheet of paper, and time has worn away the artificial cement by which it was kept together. The corner-stone of the Constitution had a crack in it, which the heat and fury of faction have widened into a fissure from top to bottom, never to be closed again.

In the evening I had the pleasure of dining with an American gentleman who has seen much of the world, travelled far and wide, who has read much and beheld more, a scholar, a politician, after his way, a poet, and an ologist — one of those modern Groeculi, who is unlike his prototype in Juvenal only in this, that he is not hungry, and that he will not go to heaven if you order him.

Such men never do or can succeed in the United States; they are far too refined, philosophical, and cosmopolitan. From what I see, success here may be obtained by refined men, if they are dishonest, never by philosophical men, unless they be corrupt — not by cosmopolitan men under any circumstances whatever; for to have sympathies with any people, or with any nation in the world, except his own, is to doom a statesman with the American public, unless it be in the form of an affectation of pity or good will, intended really as an offence to some allied people. At dinner there was the very largest naval officer I have ever seen in company, although I must own that our own service is not destitute of some good specimens, and I have seen an Austrian admiral at Pola, and the superintendent of the Arsenal at Tophaneh, who were not unfit to be marshals of France. This Lieutenant, named Nelson, was certainly greater in one sense than his British namesake, for he weighed 260 pounds.

It may be here remarked, passim and obiter, that the Americans are much more precise than ourselves in the enumeration of weights and matters of this kind. They speak of pieces of artillery, for example, as being of so many pounds weight, and of so many inches long, where we would use cwts. and feet. With a people addicted to vertical rather than lateral extension in everything but politics and morals, precision is a matter of importance. I was amused by a description of some popular personage I saw in one of the papers the other day, which after an enumeration of many high mental and physical attributes, ended thus, “In fact he is a remarkably fine high-toned gentleman, and weighs 210 pounds.”

The Lieutenant was a strong Union man, and he inveighed fiercely, and even coarsely, against the members of his profession who had thrown up their commissions. The superintendent of the Washington Navy Yard is supposed to be very little disposed in favor of this present Government; in fact, Capt. Buchanan may be called a Secessionist, nevertheless, I am invited to the wedding of his daughter, in order to see the President give away the bride. Mr. Nelson says, Sumter and Pickens are to be reinforced. Charleston is to be reduced to order, and all traitors hanged, or he will know the reason why; and, says he, “I have some weight in the country.” In the evening, as we were going home, notwithstanding the cold, we saw a number of ladies sitting out on the door-steps, in white dresses. The streets were remarkably quiet and deserted; all the colored population had been sent to bed long ago. The fire-bell, as usual, made an alarm or two about midnight

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 46-9

Charles Eliot Norton to Meta Gaskell, August 30, 1862

Shady Hill, Cambridge, 30 August, 1862.

My Dear Miss Meta, — . . . Spite of all mismanagement, and spite of all reverses, our cause is, I believe, advancing. The autumn months show great military activity; and the people throughout the North are more and more resolved to accomplish the work they have to do. The spirit, the patience, the energy, and the good sense of our people are worthy of the highest admiration. I wish you could see and feel, as we do, this truly magnificent display of national character and feeling. You would be proud with us, of it all. Do not believe what you see in the “Times,” or in other papers, of discord or of want of heart, or failure of resolution at the North. We mean to save the Union and to establish the Government of the United States over the whole country; — we mean to do this for the sake of Liberty and of civilization, and in doing it the slavery of the black race in America will come to an end.

I am sorry for, but not surprised at, the general misconception abroad of our position, our purposes, and our principles. We do enough foolish and wrong things, and we say enough, to lead astray any one who cannot see through the outside to the deeper truths below, and who has not sympathy with our institutions and our better hopes and intentions. . . .

SOURCE: Sara Norton and  M. A. DeWolfe Howe, Letters of Charles Eliot Norton, Volume 1, p. 255-6

Diary of William Howard Russell: March 26, 1861

After our pleasant breakfast came that necessity for activity which makes such meals disguised as mere light morning repasts take their revenge. I had to pack up, and I am bound to say the moral aid afforded me by the waiter, who stood with a sympathizing expression of face, and looked on as I wrestled with boots, books, and great coats, was of a most comprehensive character. At last I conquered, and at six o'clock p. m. I left the Clarendon, and was conveyed over the roughest and most execrable pavements through several miles of unsympathetic, gloomy, dirty streets, and crowded thoroughfares, over jaw-wrenching street-railway tracks, to a large wooden shed covered with inscriptions respecting routes and destinations on the bank of the river, which as far as the eye could see, was bordered by similar establishments, where my baggage was deposited in the mud. There were no porters, none of the recognized and established aids to locomotion to which we are accustomed in Europe, but a number of amateurs divided the spoil, and carried it into the offices, whilst I was directed to struggle for my ticket in another little wooden box, from which I presently received the necessary document, full of the dreadful warnings and conditions, which railway companies inflict on the public in all free countries.

The whole of my luggage, except a large bag, was taken charge of by a man at the New York side of the ferry, who “checked it through” to the capital — giving me a slip of brass with a number corresponding with a brass ticket for each piece. When the boat arrived at the stage at the other side of the Hudson, in my innocence I called for a porter to take my bag. The passengers were moving out of the capacious ferry-boat in a steady stream, and the steam throat and bell of the engine were going whilst I was looking for my porter; but at last a gentleman passing, said, “I guess y'ill remain here a considerable time before y'ill get any one to come for that bag of yours;” and taking the hint, I just got off in time to stumble into a long box on wheels, with a double row of most uncomfortable seats, and a passage down the middle, where I found a place beside Mr. Sanford, the newly-appointed United States Minister to Belgium, who was kind enough to take me under his charge to Washington.

The night was closing in very fast as the train started, but such glimpses as I had of the continuous line of pretty-looking villages of wooden houses, two stories high, painted white, each with its Corinthian portico, gave a most favorable impression of the comfort and prosperity of the people. The rail passed through the main street of most of these hamlets and villages, and the bell of the engine was tolled to warn the inhabitants, who drew up on the sidewalks, and let us go by. Soon the white houses faded away into faint blurred marks on the black ground of the landscape, or twinkled with starlike lights, and there was nothing more to see. The passengers were crowded as close as they could pack, and as there was an immense iron stove in the centre of the car, the heat and stuffiness became most trying, although I had been undergoing the ordeal of the stove-heated New York houses for nearly a week. Once a minute, at least, the door at either end of the carriage was opened, and then closed with a sharp, crashing noise, that jarred the nerves, and effectually prevented sleep. It generally was done by a man whose sole object seemed to be to walk up the centre of the carriage in order to go out of the opposite door —occasionally it was the work of a newspaper boy, with a sheaf of journals and trashy illustrated papers under his arm. Now and then it was the conductor; but the periodical visitor was a young gentleman with chain and rings, who bore a tray before him, and solicited orders for “gum drops,” and “lemon drops,” which, with tobacco, apples, and cakes, were consumed in great quantities by the passengers

At ten o'clock, P.M., we crossed the river by a ferry-boat to Philadelphia, and drove through the streets, stopping for supper a few moments at the La Pierre Hotel. To judge from the vast extent of the streets, of small, low, yet snug-looking houses, through which we passed, Philadelphia must contain in comfort the largest number of small householders of any city in the world. At the other terminus of the rail, to which we drove in a carriage, we procured for a small sum, a dollar I think, berths in a sleeping-car, an American institution of considerable merit. Unfortunately a party of prize-fighters had a mind to make themselves comfortable, and the result was anything but conducive to sleep. They had plenty of whiskey, and were full of song and fight, nor was it possible to escape their urgent solicitations “to take a drink,” by feigning the soundest sleep. One of these, a big man, with a broken nose, a mellow eye, and a very large display of rings, jewels, chains, and pins, was in very high spirits, and informed us he was “Going to Washington to get a foreign mission from Bill Seward. He wouldn't take Paris, as he didn't care much about French or Frenchmen; but he'd just like to show John Bull how to do it; or he'd take Japan if they were very pressing.” Another told us he was “Going to the bosom of Uncle Abe” (meaning the President) — “that he knew him well in Kentucky years ago, and a high-toned gentleman he was.” Any attempts to persuade them to retire to rest made by the conductors were treated with sovereign contempt; but at last whiskey asserted its supremacy, and having established the point that they “would not sleep unless they pleased,” they slept and snored.

At six, A. M., we were roused up by the arrival of the train at Washington, having crossed great rivers and traversed cities without knowing it during the night. I looked out and saw a vast mass of white marble towering above us on the left, stretching out in colonnaded porticoes, and long flanks of windowed masonry, and surmounted by an unfinished cupola, from which scaffold and cranes raised their black arms. This was the Capitol. To the right was a cleared space of mud, sand, and fields, studded with wooden sheds and huts, beyond which, again, could be seen rudimentary streets of small red brick houses, and some church-spires above them.

Emerging from the station, we found a vociferous crowd of blacks, who were the hackney-coachmen of the place; but Mr. Sanford had his carriage in waiting, and drove me straight to Willard's Hotel where he consigned me to the landlord at the bar. Our route lay through Pennsylvania Avenue — a street of much breadth and length, lined with ӕlanthus trees, each in a white-washed wooden sentry-box, and by most irregularly-built houses in all kinds of material, from deal plank to marble — of all heights, and every sort of trade. Few shop-windows were open, and the principal population consisted of blacks, who were moving about on domestic affairs. At one end of the long vista there is the Capitol; and at the other, the Treasury buildings — a fine block in marble, with the usual American classical colonnades.

Close to these rises the great pile of Willard's Hotel, now occupied by applicants for office, and by the members of the newly-assembled Congress. It is a quadrangular mass of rooms, six stories high, and some hundred yards square; and it probably contains at this moment more scheming, plotting, planning heads, more aching and joyful hearts, than any building of the same size ever held in the world. I was ushered into a bedroom which had just been vacated by some candidate — whether he succeeded or not I cannot tell, but if his testimonials spoke truth, he ought to have been selected at once for the highest office. The room was littered with printed copies of letters testifying that J. Smith, of Hartford, Conn., was about the ablest, honestest, cleverest, and best man the writers ever knew. Up and down the long passages doors were opening and shutting for men with papers bulging out of their pockets, who hurried as if for their life in and out, and the building almost shook with the tread of the candidature, which did not always in its present aspect justify the correctness of the original appellation.

It was a remarkable sight, and difficult to understand unless seen. From California, Texas, from the Indian Reserves, and the Mormon Territory, from Nebraska, as from the remotest borders of Minnesota, from every portion of the vast territories of the Union, except from the Seceded States, the triumphant Republicans had winged their way to the prey.

There were crowds in the hall through which one could scarce make his way — the writing-room was crowded, and the rustle of pens rose to a little breeze — the smoking-room, the bar, the barber's, the reception-room, the ladies' drawing-room — all were crowded. At present not less than 2,500 people dine in the public room every day. On the kitchen floor there is a vast apartment, a hall without carpets or any furniture but plain chairs and tables, which are ranged in close rows, at which flocks of people are feeding, or discoursing, or from which they are flying away. The servants never cease shoving the chairs to and fro with a harsh screeching noise over the floor, so that one can scarce hear his neighbor speak. If he did, he would probably hear as I did, at this very hotel, a man order breakfast, “Black tea and toast, scrambled eggs, fresh spring shad, wild pigeon, pigs' feet, two robins on toast, oysters,” and a quantity of breads and cakes of various denominations. The waste consequent on such orders is enormous — and the ability required to conduct these enormous establishments successfully is expressed by the common phrase in the States, “Brown is a clever man, but he can't manage an hotel.” The tumult, the miscellaneous nature of the company — my friends the prize-fighters are already in possession of the doorway — the heated, muggy rooms, not to speak of the great abominableness of the passages and halls, despite a most liberal provision of spittoons, conduce to render these institutions by no means agreeable to a European. Late in the day I succeeded in obtaining a sitting-room with a small bedroom attached, which made me somewhat more independent and comfortable — but you must pay highly for any departure from the routine life of the natives. Ladies enjoy a handsome drawing-room, with piano, sofas, and easy chairs, all to themselves.

I dined at Mr. Sanford's, where I was introduced to Mr. Seward, Secretary of State; Mr. Truman Smith, an ex-senator, much respected among the Republican party; Mr. Anthony, a senator of the United States, a journalist, a very intelligent-looking man, with an Israelitish cast of face; Colonel Foster of the Illinois railway, of reputation in the States as a geologist; and one or two more gentlemen. Mr. Seward is a slight, middle-sized man, of feeble build, with the stoop contracted from sedentary habits and application to the desk, and has a peculiar attitude when seated, which immediately attracts attention. A well-formed and large head is placed on a long slender neck, and projects over the chest in an argumentative kind of way, as if the keen eyes were seeking for an adversary; the mouth is remarkably flexible, large but well-formed, the nose prominent and aquiline, the eyes secret, but penetrating, and lively with humor of some kind twinkling about them; the brow bold and broad, but not remarkably elevated; the white hair silvery and fine — a subtle, quick man, rejoicing in power, given to perorate and to oracular utterances, fond of badinage, bursting with the importance of state mysteries, and with the dignity of directing the foreign policy of the greatest country — as all Americans think — in the world. After dinner he told some stories of the pressure on the President for place, which very much amused the guests who knew the men, and talked freely and pleasantly of many things — stating, however, few facts positively. In reference to an assertion in a New York paper, that orders had been given to evacuate Sumter, “That,” he said, “is a plain lie — no such orders have been given. We will give up nothing we have — abandon nothing that has been intrusted to us. If people would only read these statements by the light of the President's inaugural, they would not be deceived.” He wanted no extra session of Congress. “History tells us that kings who call extra parliaments lose their heads,” and he informed the company he had impressed the President with his historical parallels.

All through this conversation his tone was that of a man very sanguine, and with a supreme contempt for those who thought there was anything serious in secession. “Why,” said he, “I myself, my brothers, and sisters, have been all secessionists — we seceded from home when we were young, but we all went back to it sooner or later. These States will all come back in the same way.” I doubt if he was ever in the South; but he affirmed that the state of living and of society there was something like that in the State of New York sixty or seventy years ago. In the North all was life, enterprise, industry, mechanical skill. In the South there was dependence on black labor, and an idle extravagance which was mistaken for elegant luxury — tumble-down old hackney-coaches, such as had not been seen north of the Potomac for half a century, harness never cleaned, ungroomed horses, worked at the mill one day and sent to town the next, badly furnished houses, bad cookery, imperfect education. No parallel could be drawn between them and the Northern States at all. “You are all very angry,” he said, “about the Morrill tariff. You must, however, let us be best judges of our own affairs. If we judge rightly, you have no right to complain; if we judge wrongly, we shall soon be taught by the results, and shall correct our error. It is evident that if the Morrill tariff fulfils expectations, and raises a revenue, British manufacturers suffer nothing, and we suffer nothing, for the revenue is raised here, and trade is not injured. If the tariff fails to create a revenue, we shall be driven to modify or repeal it.”

The company addressed him as “Governor,” which led to Mr. Seward's mentioning that when he was in England he was induced to put his name down with that prefix in a hotel book, and caused a discussion among the waiters as to whether he was the “Governor” of a prison or of a public company. I hope the great people of England treated Mr. Seward with the attention due to his position, as he would assuredly feel and resent very much any slight on the part of those in high places. From what he said, however, I infer that he was satisfied with the reception he had met in London. Like most Americans who can afford it, he has been up the Nile. The weird old stream has great fascinations for the people of the Mississippi — as far at least as the first cataract.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 30-6

Charles Eliot Norton to George William Curtis, February 9, 1862

Shady Hill, Sunday, 9 February, 1862.

. . . Jane and I went to hear Frederic Douglass. It was a sad though interesting performance. He said very little to the purpose, and nothing that was of worth as helping toward clearer conclusions in regard to the future of the black race in America. There was a want of earnestness and true feeling in his speech. It was discursive, shallow, personal, and though he said some clever things and displayed some power of humorous irony, it was on the whole a melancholy exhibition, for neither the circumstances of the time, nor the immeasurable importance of the topic were enough to inspire him with wise or sincere counsel. I could not but think how far he was from such honesty of purpose and depth of feeling as were in John Brown's heart. There were several eloquent and well meant passages in his lecture, but most of it was crude and artificial. We could not but come away disappointed and even disheartened.

How good the news is from Tennessee!¹ We have waited so long for success that we may well be glad when it comes. I trust that this is a blow to be followed up. . . .

_______________

¹ Fort Henry had just been taken, and Fort Donelson was about to fall

SOURCE: Sara Norton and  M. A. DeWolfe Howe, Letters of Charles Eliot Norton, Volume 1, p. 251

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, May 27, 1863

Camp, May 27, 1863.

Did I tell you what an interest the black fellows at my barber's (under Willard's) take in me because I am a Massachusetts Colonel, — they are so pleased at the Fifty-Fourth, and at its being the Fifty-Fourth and not the First Massachusetts Coloured Regiment (as it is in the District and in most other States), — and I told them all I could about it, without boasting how near an interest I felt in its Colonel, — wasn't that magnanimous? Had I said the word, I believe they would have pressed all the offices of their trade upon me, willy-nilly, and instead of my short bristles, I should have left with a curled wig perfumed and oiled. Governor Andrew's argument about officers seemed to satisfy them (that he wanted the best officers he could get for this Regiment, and they were every one white), and they felt (as I do more and more, the more I learn of regiments raised and raising elsewhere) that it is a great thing to have the experiment in one case tried fairly.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 248

Diary of Salmon P. Chase: Sunday August 3, 1862

Genl. Shields came to breakfast and to visit the Ohio men of his command in the Cliffburne Hospital. He told me he desired greatly to have a command of 5000 men and be allowed to dash as he could, breaking the lines and communications of the enemy. My daughters went with him to the Hospital.

Soon after they left, I received a summons to a Cabinet meeting. The President spoke of the Treaty said to have been formed between the Cherokees and Confederates, and suggested the expediency of organizing a force of whites and blacks, in separate Regiments, to invade and take possession of their country. Statistics of the Indians were sent for, from which it appeared that the whole fighting force of the Cherokees could hardly exceed 2500 men. Mr. Usher, Assistant Secretary of the Interior was not in favor of the expedition. He thought it better to deal indulgently with deluded Indians, and make their deluders feel the weight of the Federal authority. Most, on the whole, seemed to concur with him.

Mr. Usher mentioned a report that the Louisville Democrat had come out openly for disunion, saying that it was now manifest that the Government was in the hands of the Abolitionists. The President said, this was equivalent to a declaration of hostility by the entire Douglas Party of Kentucky, and manifested much uneasiness.

There was a good deal of conversation on the connection of the Slavery question with the rebellion. I expressed my conviction for the tenth or twentieth time, that the time for the suppression of the rebellion without interference with slavery had passed; that it was possible, probably, at the outset, by striking the insurrectionists wherever found, strongly and decisively; but we had elected to act on the principles of a civil war, in which the whole population of every seceding state was engaged against the Federal Government, instead of treating the active secessionists as insurgents and exerting our utmost energies for their arrest and punishment; — that the bitternesses of the conflict had now substantially united the white population of the rebel states against us;—that the loyal whites remaining, if they would not prefer the Union without Slavery, certainly would not prefer Slavery to the Union; that the blacks were really the only loyal population worth counting; and that, in the Gulf States at least, their right to Freedom ought to be at once recognized, while, in the Border States, the President's plan of Emancipation might be made the basis of the necessary measures for their ultimate enfranchisement; — that the practical mode of effecting this seemed to me quite simple; — that the President had already spoken of the importance of making of the freed blacks on the Mississippi, below Tennessee, a safeguard to the navigation of the river; — that Mitchell, with a few thousand soldiers, could take Vicksburgh; — assure the blacks freedom on condition of loyalty; organize the best of them in companies, regiments etc. and provide, as far as practicable for the cultivation of the plantations by the rest; — that Butler should signify to the slaveholders of Louisiana that they must recognize the freedom of their workpeople by paying them wages; — and that Hunter should do the same thing in South-Carolina.

Mr. Seward expressed himself as in favor of any measures likely to accomplish the results I contemplated, which could be carried into effect without Proclamations; and the President said he was pretty well cured of objections to any measure except want of adaptedness to put down the rebellion; but did not seem satisfied that the time had come for the adoption of such a plan as I proposed.

There was also a good deal of conversation concerning the merits of Generals. I objected pretty decidedly to the policy of selecting nearly all the highest officers from among men hostile to the Administration, and continuing them in office after they had proved themselves incompetent, or at least not specially competent, and referred to the needless defeat of McClellan and the slowness of Buell. Seward asked what I would do. I replied, Remove the men who failed to accomplish results, and put abler and more active men in their places. He wished to know whom I would prefer to Buell. I answered that if I were President, or Secretary of War authorized to act by the President, I would confer with the General in Chief; require him to name to me the best officers he knew of; talk the matter over with him; get all the light I could; and then designate my man.

As much as any thing, the clearing of the Mississippi by the capture of Vicksburgh was discussed. I reminded the President that after the evacuation of Corinth it would have been an easy matter to send down a few thousand men and complete our possession of the river; and of his own plan of putting Genl. Mitchell at the head of his own division and Curtis' army, and sending him to take Vicksburgh, almost adopted more than two weeks ago. Mr. Usher suggested that since Genl. Halleck had decided against this plan, on the ground that Mitchell's division could not be spared from Buell's command, and Curtis' army was needed to prevent a foray from Arkansas into Missouri, it might be well to raise a special force by volunteering for this one object of taking Vicksburgh, opening the Mississippi and keeping it open. I heartily seconded this idea and it was a good deal talked over.

At length, the President determined to send for Genl. Halleck and have the matter discussed with him. The General came, and the matter was fully stated to him both by Gov. Seward and myself. He did not absolutely reject the idea, but thought the object could be better accomplished by hastening the new levies; putting the new troops in the position now occupied by the old regiments; and setting the last to the work of opening the Mississippi. He expressed the strongest convictions as to the importance of the work, and his desire to see it accomplished at the earliest possible period. At this moment, however, the necessary troops could not be spared for the purpose. Taking into consideration the delay incident to raising a special force, equal, perhaps, to that demanded by Genl. Halleck's plan, and the other disadvantages it was thought best to drop the idea.

In connection with this subject, Genl. Halleck spoke of the distribution of troops in the West. He said that Hardee had broken up his camp south of Corinth, and transferred his army to Chattanooga, where he now had probably 40 or 50,000 men; that Price had attempted to cross the river into Arkansas, but had as yet failed to accomplish his purpose; that a considerable force was, however, advancing northward into Missouri; and that he had sent a division and brigade, say 7,000 men, to Curtis (making his whole force about 17,000) and instructed him to prevent the invasion of Missouri; that he had also detached from Grant about 15,000 men, say three divisions, to take position at Decatur to support Buell if necessary; that Grant had still under his command about 43,000, of whom 7,000 under Jackson had been ordered to the to watch Price; that Buell had 60,000, with which force he was approaching Chattanooga. These numbers give the whole force in the West, exclusive of troops occupying St. Louis and various Posts and Camps north of the Ohio; — Buell, 60,000 — Grant including detachments, except Curtis', 58,000 — Curtis, 17,000 — in all, 135,000 men, excellent troops. He stated McClellan's army at present and fit for duty at 88,000; absent on leave 33,000; absent without leave, 3,000; present but sick, 16,000 — in all, say, 140,000. Another statement makes the number fit for duty 91,000, and the total 143,000.

The President read a communication from Genl. H. proposing that 200,000 militia should be drafted for 9 months, and that the 300,000 men to fill old and form new regiments should be obtained without delay; and to prevent the evil of hasty and improper appointments and promotions, that a Board of Officers should be organized, to which all proposed action of that sort should be referred. The General condemned, respectfully but as decidedly, the inconsideration which has hitherto marked the action of the Government in this respect, and stated one case where a Colonel had been tried and convicted of gross misconduct and was on the point of being dismissed, when he came on to Washington and returned with a Brigadier's Commission.

The General commanded my sincere respect by the great intelligence and manliness he displayed, and excited great hopes by his obvious purpose to allow no lagging and by his evident mastery of the business he had taken in hand. I cannot agree with him as to the expediency of retaining Buell and McClellan in their important commands; and I was sorry to hear him say, in reply to a question of the President, as to what use could be made of the black population of the borders of the Mississippi, “I confess, I do not think much of the negro.”

Neither Mr. Stanton nor Mr. Blair were present at the meeting to-day.

When the Cabinet Council broke up, I proposed to Mr. Usher, who made a most favorable impression on me, to ride home in my carriage but he was called back by the President, and I finding my carriage had not come, rode home with Mr. Bates.

SOURCE: Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 53-7

Diary of Salmon P. Chase: Friday, July 25, 1862

No Cabinet to-day. Went to War Department in the morning, where I found the President and Stanton. We talked about the necessity of clearing the Mississippi, and Stanton again urged sending Mitchell. The President said he would see him. Stanton sent for him at Willard's, and sent him to the President.

In the evening I called for Mitchell to ride, with H. Walbridge. Asked him the result. He said the President had asked him with what force he could take Vicksburgh and clear the river, and, with the black population on its banks, hold it open below Memphis; and had bid him consider. He had replied that, with his own division and Curtis' army, he could do it he thought, but he would consider and reply.

I told him now was the time to do great things.

SOURCE: Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 49

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, November 13, 1864

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, November 13, 1864.

To-day I had a visit from a Colonel Coles, of the English Army, who is the Military Commandant of New Brunswick. He was quite a gentlemanly person. I took him around our lines and showed him all that was to be seen.

Grant has gone to-day to pay a visit to Admiral Porter, at Fortress Monroe, and as Butler is absent, this leaves me in command of all the forces operating against Richmond.

I suppose you have seen Mr. Davis's Message to the Confederate Congress. Although a dignified and well-written document, to my mind it betrays unmistakable evidences of despondency. His proposition to arm and free forty thousand slaves, to make engineer soldiers, is most significant, for nothing but an acknowledged exhaustion of the white race could ever make him willing to free and arm the black race. The idea of limiting the number to forty thousand, and making them engineer soldiers, simply means that this is an experiment, the result of which is doubtful, and until the fidelity of the race is tested, it is better not to have too many. I think this is prudential on their part, for I cannot believe they will get the blacks to fight for them.

Gibbon was here to-day, the first time I have seen him since his return.

I judge from the tone of the Tribune, Washington Chronicle, and other Administration papers, that there is a disposition on the part of the successful party to be magnanimous and invite harmony among all the friends of the Union. I see it reported the President has declined McClellan's resignation, and it is said is going to give him a command. I doubt the latter part, but think the former very probable. I have no means of hearing or knowing anything that is going on till it is made public. I never go to City Point, and Grant does not come here, so that I am not au courant des affaires.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 241-2

John M. Forbes to Dr. Samuel Gridley Howe, August 21, 1861

Naushon, August 21,1861.

My Dear Doctor, — I have yours of the 19th. I confess to being one of that average class which constitutes the majority of our people, who as yet hesitate at the dreadful experiment of insurrection; if it comes as a necessity, an alternative to the subversion of republican institutions, we should not hesitate a moment. There seem to me three reasons against it at this time, apart from our natural shrinking from a measure of this sort upon humane grounds.

1st. It may unite the border States against us, and check any tendency to division in the cotton States.

2d. It will, if resorted to from anything but obvious, stern necessity, divide the North.

3d. Its success as a weapon against the South is by no means certain. It is, to my mind, — with the light of the past four months' quiet among the blacks, and of John Brown's experience, — very uncertain unless resorted to under favorable circumstances. At present it seems to me worth more as a weapon to hold in reserve to threaten with, than one to strike with.

If resorted to now it would be in a hesitating, uncertain manner by our administration, and from that, if nothing else, would be likely to fail. Once tried, and failed in, a great source of terror to the South and of confidence to the North is lost.

I go therefore for holding it in reserve until public sentiment, which is the chief motive power behind the administration, drives them to use it decisively. Our people throughout have been ahead of our government, which has followed rather laggingly: — it is not a leading, but a following administration. It does not act, even now, readily when first urged by the popular tide. Nothing but the full force of the current starts it. If we could get a good hurricane to help the tide, it might sweep away some of the weaker materials in the Cabinet, and possibly put a leader in their place who would thenceforward draw after him the Cabinet and the people.

Your suggestion, then, even if it were the best thing, seems to me premature. As to urging on the government to vigor, to making serious war with shot and hemp, there would not, there could not, be two opinions with the people. Governor Andrew could give the hint to our Massachusetts papers, and they would all readily sound the trumpet for vigor and for discipline, and the “Evening Post” and such papers would readily help.

As to anything more, or in the direction you suggest, I want to see the demand come from the people, from the democracy, rather than from either the leaders or the abolitionists!

Perhaps the poverty of the South may soon begin to afflict the slaves, and they may lead off. If they do, the responsibility is not ours.

Very truly yours,

John M. Forbes.

SOURCE: Sarah Forbes Hughes, Letters and Recollections of John Murray Forbes, Volume 1, p. 239-40

George William Curtis to Charles Eliot Norton, December 28, 1862

December 28, '62.

This will be a crucial week. The counter proclamation, the edict of emancipation, the opposition of Seymour & Co., and the mad desperation of the reaction, — all will not avail. The war must proceed, and to its natural result. Even Joseph Harper, the most Southern of the firm, said to me yesterday, “The negroes must be armed, and if Seymour does not support the war he will have no support.” Perhaps, if any possible way of settlement could be devised, there might be a strong party for it, but in deep water we must swim or drown. All our reverses, our despondence, our despairs, bring us to the inevitable issue: shall not the blacks strike for their freedom?

SOURCE: Edward Cary, George William Curtis, p. 161

Samuel Gridley Howe to John M. Forbes, August 19, 1861

Boston, August 19,1861.

. . . The public need something, or somebody, some word, or some blow, to magnetize them, or else they will be fearfully demoralized in a month. The word must be emancipation, and war upon slaveholders as such — as a distinct class — as the authors of all the present ills.

Can you not confer with the governor about this? You cannot keep up public interest, much less public enthusiasm, about an abstraction (at least of a worldly and temporal nature), and Union is a mere abstraction now; it touches not, and cannot touch, the public heart.

As one blow, I suggest what I vainly suggested last spring, an expedition to land in or about Albemarle Sound, composed mainly of blacks, who would go into the Dismal and other swamps and raise the thousands of refugees there to go out and make sallies and onslaughts upon the enemy; and so make a diversion.

It would at least cause a worse than Bull Run panic. There are plenty of men in Canada, resolute and intelligent refugees, who would enlist in such an enterprise. It cannot, however, be done by private means. Can any other be had, think you?

I have mentioned the matter of expedition to the Dismal Swamp to the governor, but to him only. Please not speak of it to any one else.

SOURCE: Sarah Forbes Hughes, Letters and Recollections of John Murray Forbes, Volume 1, p. 238