Lieutenant Colonel Samuel J. Nasmith to Lieutenant Colonel John A. Rawlins, July 1, 1863

HEADQUARTERS 25TH WISCONSIN VOLUNTEER INFANTRY,        

Snyder's Bluff, Miss., July 1, 1863.

SIR: In compliance with orders dated Headquarters Department of Tennessee, June 25, 1863, addressed to "commanding officer of expedition against Greenville," I have the honor to report the following:

I started from Snyder's Bluff, in the afternoon of June 25, 1863, with the following troops, to wit: Twenty-fifth Wisconsin Infantry, 600 strong, four pieces Fourth Ohio Battery, and three companies Fifth Illinois Cavalry, 200 strong, under Major Farnan, and proceeded to Young's Point. Here I was joined by three gunboats and the John Raines, of the marine fleet, having on board 50 infantry and 100 cavalry. The boats were detained till noon the 26th to coal, when I proceeded up the river. Arriving at the foot of Island No. 82, the cavalry disembarked and proceeded by land to Greenville. Here I disembarked, and proceeded with the cavalry to the foot of Island No. 84, distant 21 miles by land. Searching the country to find signs of the enemy, I arrived at Carter's plantation June 27, evening. The transports, with the infantry and artillery, came around by water. Not being able to find or hear of any enemy on this side the river, I am satisfied, from information received from reliable sources, that there has been no enemy near Greenville, on the Mississippi shore, for nearly four weeks; previously to that time there was a small force encamped on Deer Creek, distant 10 miles from Greenville. We found at the foot of Island No. 83 embrasures cut in the levee for three guns, and across the point—3 miles distant—for two guns; that a road had been cut across the point, connecting the two places; that they were in the habit of running the guns across the point while the boats were going round, and firing on the same boat at the two points.

I embarked with the cavalry June 28, and proceeded across the river to Spanish Moss Bend, on the Arkansas shore. Arriving there, all the troops were ordered to disembark, and did so, with the exception of those on board steamer John Raines. Major Hubbard, commanding the troops on the boat, did not obey the order. I proceeded at 1 p.m., 28th, for Gaines' Landing, with the infantry, artillery, and 200 cavalry. I had heard firing the night before at Gaines' Landing, and supposed there was a force on the bend between there and where we had landed. The distance between the point where we had landed and Gaines' Landing is 10 miles. My object was to capture the force between us and Gaines' Landing, on the bend. We had proceeded but 3 miles when we encountered their pickets. We followed them, skirmishing, to Gaines' Landing, where they changed their course, proceeding back from the river. It then being dark, and learning from various sources that their force was largely superior to mine, having no guide and being unable to obtain one, and there being several roads, cut through the woods from the river, in our rear, my force not being large enough to guard the roads and attack the enemy in front, I thought it prudent to retire to our transports.

From what I deem reliable information, the enemy had at Cypress Bend and Gaines' Landing, and points in the vicinity, from 4,000 to 5,000 troops, with eight pieces of artillery, to wit, two pieces 9-pounder rifled Parrott guns, two 16-pounder rifled brass, two 12-pounder brass howitzers, one 6-pounder rifled brass, and one 6-pounder smooth-bore. They have no caissons with their cannon. They have two full regiments of infantry, and the balance of the force cavalry. Their main camp is back of Lake Chicot. Said lake, as nearly as I could ascertain, is 10 miles back and up the river from Gaines' Landing, and so situated that the forces at Cypress Bend or other point on the river can readily be re-enforced from this point. The distance from Gaines' Landing to Cypress Bend, by land, is variously estimated at from 15 to 30 miles; by water, it is 50 miles. I also learned from good authority that all the forces in Arkansas, under Generals Price, Marmaduke, and other commanders, are ordered to the vicinity of Milliken's Bend, and that on June 27 seven regiments passed through Monticello, Ark., about 40 miles from Gaines' Landing. The forces on the river in vicinity of Cypress Bend are under command of General Gorman [?] or Graham [?], and Colonels Clark and [George W.] Carter, of Cape Girardeau notoriety.

I caused to be destroyed on Spanish Moss Bend from 12,000 to 20,000 bushels of corn, one mill and cotton-gin, used by the rebels for grinding corn.

On the morning of the 30th, I proceeded down the river. Hearing in the afternoon that they were fighting at Lake Providence, and needed help, I reported myself to the general commanding, who wished me to lie over night, fearing another attack in the morning. In the morning the cavalry marched through to Goodrich's Landing, seeing no enemy, but noticing the effects of what had been done the day before, the enemy having gone.

Major Farnan, commanding the cavalry, reports that the scenes witnessed by him in marching from Lake Providence to Goodrich's Landing were of a character never before witnessed in a civilized country, and the rebel atrocities committed the day before were such as the pen fails to record in proper language. They spared neither age, sex, nor condition. In some instances the negroes were shut up in their quarters, and literally roasted alive. The charred remains found in numerous instances testified to a degree of fiendish atrocity such as has no parallel either in civilized or savage warfare. Young children, only five or six years of age, were found skulking in the canebreak pierced with wounds, while helpless women were found shot down in the most inhuman manner. The whole country was destroyed, and every sign of civilization was given to the flames.

The cavalry embarked at Goodrich's Landing, and the expedition, except the marine boat, came to Chickasaw Landing. The battery was debarked there and was ordered to join its command. The two boats, with cavalry and infantry, came to Snyder's Bluff, and to camp. The boats were ordered to report to master of transportation, at the landing.

Before closing this report, it is proper that I should say that the portion of the Marine Brigade which accompanied me proved to be entirely worthless. At no time were my orders obeyed willingly, and the officer in command was disposed to find fault and cavil when any real service was required of them. They failed me altogether when most wanted, and, instead of being any assistance to me, they were, to use no harsher language, a positive injury to the expedition.

I have the honor to be, your most obedient servant,

SAMUEL J. NASMITH,        

Lieut. Col. Twenty-fifth Wisconsin Infantry, Comdg. Expedition.

Lieut. Col. JOHN A. RAWLINS,
        Assistant Adjutant-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 24, Part 2 (Serial No. 37), p. 516-8

Major-General Benjamin F. Butler to Edwin M. Stanton, May 25, 1862

HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF,

New Orleans, May 25, 1862.

Hon. E. M. STANTON,

Secretary of War:

SIR: In matters pertaining to the conduct of affairs in my own department which affect that alone I will trouble you for instructions as little as possible, but in those which affect the administrative policy of the country I beg leave to refer to the help of the War Department for advice and direction. The question now pressing me is the state of negro property here and the condition of the negroes as men. It has a gravity as regards both white and black appalling as the mind follows out the logical necessities of different lines of action. Ethnological in its proportions and demands for investigation, it requires active administrative operations immediately upon the individual in his daily life, his social, political, and religious status as a human being, while some of the larger deductions of political economy are to be at once worked out by any given course of conduct. It cannot be solved therefore without thought or discussion by a phrase or a paragraph. The question now comes to me in a different form from that in which it has presented itself to any other military commander.

At Fortress Monroe during the last summer I found the negro deserted by his master or having been forced by him into the fortification as the builder and thus made to aid in the rebellion. The rights of property under that condition of things could be easily settled. The man was to be treated as a human being wrecked upon a civilized coast, all his social ties and means of living gone, to be cared for because he was a man. My action thereupon is well known and was approved by the Government.

At Port Royal the same condition of things substantially obtained and I suppose will be dealt with in like manner. Here, however, an entirely different state of the question is disclosed.

The general commanding finds himself in possession of a tract of country larger than some States of the Union. This has submitted to the Government of the United States; a community with whom by proclamation the President is about opening commercial relations with all the world except for that which is contraband of war; rich in fertile lands; in it a city of the first class, wherein its inhabitants by a large majority are attending to their usual avocations and endeavoring in good faith to live quietly under the laws of the Union, and whoever does not do so is speedily punished and his compeers thereby admonished.

To this city and vicinage has been pledged the governmental protection and inviolability of the rights of property under the laws of the United States so long as these conditions of peace and quiet shall be preserved, and that pledge has been accepted by the good, loyal, and peaceful, and the power of the Union is respected by the wicked, so that they have become peaceful, if not loyal. It is found that a large portion of property held here is in slaves. They till the soil, raise the sugar, corn, and cotton, lead and unload the ships; they perform every domestic office, and are permeated through every branch of industry and peaceful calling.

In a large degree the owners of the soil, planters, farmers, mechanics, and small traders have been passive rather than active in the rebellion. All that had real property at stake have been the led rather than the leaders in this outbreak against law and order. In the destruction of cotton and sugar even, which has been so largely effected, the owners and producers have not been the destroyers, but in many cases the resistants of destruction.

There is still another class. Those actively in arms and those who for motives of gain or worse have aided the rebellion in their several spheres.

The property of these I am hunting out and holding for confiscation under the laws. There is in most cases no military necessity for its immediate confiscation. Such act, if done, would in many instances work injustice to the bona fide loyal creditor, whose interest the Government will doubtless consider. I am only confiscating in fact in cases where there is a breach of a positive order, for the purpose of punishment and example. In all these cases I have no hesitation as to the kinds of property or rights of property which shall be confiscated, and make no distinctions, save that where that property consists in the services of slaves I shall not sell it until so ordered.

Now, many negroes (slaves) have come within my lines. Many have sought to be kept, fed, and to live in the quarters with my troops. Loyal and disloyal masters have lost them alike. I have caused as many to be employed as I have use for. I have directed all not employed to be sent out of my lines, leaving them subject to the ordinary laws of the community in that behalf.

I annex all orders and communications to my officers upon this matter up to the date of the transmission of this dispatch.

Now, what am I to do? Unless all personal property of all rebels is to be confiscated (of the policy of which a military commander has no right to an opinion) it is manifestly unjust to make a virtual confiscation of this particular species of property. Indeed it makes an actual confiscation of all property, both real and personal, of the planter if we take away or allow to run away his negroes as his crop is just growing, it being impossible to supply the labor necessary to preserve it. Again, if a portion of these slaves only are to be taken within my lines, and if to be so taken is a benefit to them, it is unjust to those that are not taken. Those that come early to us are by no means the best men and women. With them, as with the whites, it is the worse class that rebel against and evade the laws that govern them. The vicious and unthrifty have felt punishment of their masters as a rule, the exception being where the cruel master abuses the industrious and well-behaved slave, and the first to come are those that feel particular grievances.

It is a physical impossibility to take all. I cannot feed the white men within my lines. Women and children are actually starving in spite of all that I can do. Ay, and they too without fault on their part. What would be the state of things if I allowed all the slaves from the plantations to quit their employment and come within the lines is not to be conceived by the imagination.

Am I then to take of these blacks only the adventurers, the shiftless, and wicked, to the exclusion of the good and quiet? If coming within our lines is equivalent to freedom, and liberty is a boon, is it to be obtained only by the first that apply?

I had written thus far when by the Ocean Queen I received a copy of an order of Major-General Hunter upon this subject in the Department of the South. Whether I assent or dissent from the course of action therein taken it is not my province to criticise it.

I desire, however, to call attention to the grounds upon which it seems to be based and to examine how far they may be applicable here.

The military necessity does not exist here for the employment of negroes in arms, in order that we may have an acclimated force. If the War Department desires, and will permit, I can have 5,000 able bodied white citizens enlisted within 60 days, all of whom have lived here many years, and many of them drilled soldiers, to be commanded by intelligent loyal officers. Besides, I hope and believe that this war will be ended before any body of negroes could be organized, armed, and drilled so as to be efficient.

The negro here, by long habit and training, has acquired a great horror of fire-arms, sometimes ludicrous in the extreme when the weapon is in his own hand. I am inclined to the opinion that John Brown was right in his idea of arming the negro with a pike or spear instead of a musket, if they are to be armed at all. Of this I say nothing, because a measure of governmental policy is not to be discussed in the dispatch of a subordinate military officer.

In this connection it might not be inopportune to call to mind the fact that a main cause of the failure of the British in their attack on New Orleans was the employment of a regiment of blacks brought with them from the West Indies. This regiment was charged with the duty of carrying the facines with which the ditch in front of Jackson's line was to be filled up and the ladders for scaling the embankment. When the attacking column reached the point of assault the facines and ladders were not there. Upon looking around for them it was found that their black guardians had very prudently laid themselves down upon the plain in the rear and protected their heads from the whistling shot with the facines which should have been to the front in a different sense.

I am further inclined to believe that the idea that our men here cannot stand the climate, and therefore the negroes must be freed and armed as an acclimated force, admits of serious debate.

My command has been either here or on the way here from Ship Island since the 1st of May, some of them on shipboard in the river since the 17th of April. All the deaths in the general hospital in this city since we have been here are only 13 from all causes, 2 of these being accidental, as will appear from Surgeon Smith's report, herewith submitted. From diseases at all peculiar to the climate I do not believe we have lost in the last thirty days one-fifth of one per cent. in the whole command; taking into the account also the infirm and debilitated, who ought never to have passed the surgeon's examination and come here.

Certain it is, if we admit the proposition that white men cannot be soldiers in this climate, we go very far toward asserting the dogma that white men cannot labor here, and therefore establish the necessity for exclusively black labor, which has ever been the corner-stone of African slavery.

We have heard much in the newspapers of the free-negro corps of this city organized for the defense of the South. From this a very erroneous idea may have been derived. The officers of that company called upon me the other day upon the question of the continuance of their organization and to learn what disposition they would be required to make of their arms; and in color, nay, also in conduct, they had much more the appearance of white gentlemen than some of those who have favored me with their presence claiming to be the “chivalry of the South.”

I have satisfied myself, if I have failed to satisfy the Department, that no military necessity exists to change the policy of the Government in this respect within my command.

I have given hurriedly amidst the press of other cares some of the considerations that seem to me to bear upon the question. I only add as a fact that those well-disposed to the Union here represent that the supposed policy of the Government, as indicated by General Hunter's order, is used by our enemies to paralyze all the efforts to co-operate with us.

Reared in the full belief that slavery is a curse to a nation, which my further acquaintance with it only deepens and widens, from its baleful effects upon the master, because as under it he cannot lift the negro up in the scale of humanity therefore the negro drags him down, I have no fear that my views will be anywhere misunderstood. I only accept the fact of its present existence, the “tares among the wheat,” and have asked the direction of the Department, “lest while I gather up the tares I root up also the wheat with them,” or shall I “let both grow together till the harvest?”

Respectfully, &c.,

 BENJ. F. BUTLER,

 Major-General, Commanding.

[lnclossures.]

• Major-General Benjamin F. Butler to Brigadier General John W. Phelps, May 9, 1862
• Major-General Benjamin F. Butler to Brigadier General John W. Phelps, May 10, 1862
• Major-General Benjamin F. Butler to Brigadier General John W. Phelps, May 21, 1862
• Major-General Benjamin F. Butler to Brigadier General John W. Phelps, May 23, 1862

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 15 (Serial No. 21), p. 439-42

1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: August 8, 1862

Tuscumbia, Ala., August 8, 1862.

My pet negro got so lazy and worthless I was compelled to ship him. I'll take back, if you please, everything good that I ever said of free negroes. That Beauregard nigger was such a thief that we had to also set him adrift. He stole our canned fruit, jellies and oysters and sold some of them and gave parties at the cabins in the vicinity. This was barely endurable but he was a splendid, smart fellow and the colonel would have kept him, but he got to stealing the colonel's liquor. That of course, was unpardonable, when the scarcity of the article was considered. In my last I spoke of a ride on the railroad and having to turn back on account of bridges being burned There were, maybe, 150 sick soldiers on board, and they concluded to march to Decatur, only 10 miles. They were attacked just after we started back, five of them killed and about 100 taken prisoners. There was a woman along and she was wounded. There were three little fights yesterday between here and 25 miles east. In all, four killed and 13 wounded. The fight first spoken of was day before yesterday. Orders have been given us to put every woman and child (imprison the men) across the line that speaks or acts secesh, and to burn their property, and to destroy all their crops, cut down corn growing, and burn all the cribs. That is something like war. ’Tis devilish hard for one like me to assist in such work, but believe it is necessary to our course. Having been very busy preparing reports and writing letters all day, feel deuced little like writing you. People here treat us the very best kind, although they are as strong Rebels as live. Bring us peaches and vegetables every day. I can't hardly think the generals will carry out the orders as above, for it will have a very demoralizing effect upon the men. I'd hate like the deuce to burn the houses of some secesh I know here, but at the same time don't doubt the justice of the thing. One of them has lent us his own cook, or rather his wife did; and they don't talk their secessionism to you unless you ask them to. We are getting a good many recruits from this country. All poor people, in fact that is the only kind that pretend to any Unionism here. There are now three full companies of Alabamians (Union) at Huntsville, and many more coming in. It is the opinion of the court that this new law, a copy of which you sent me, will boost me out of the service. I will make no objection, although would rather stay in if I thought the war would last 30 or 40 years. Don't see how the boys can stay at home under the pressure. A young man here, and a splendid fellow, if he is a Rebel, showed me four letters from different young ladies urging him, by ridicule and appeals to his pride to go into the army. He was in for a short time, and was stationed at Fort Morgan. Business keeps him out now — crops, etc. I think will arrange things so that he can leave, if we carry out orders. ’Twould be quite a change for me to be out of the army now. I don' know how I would relish it while the war continues, although am sure could stand it if peace times would come again.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 123-5

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes: September 10, 1862

Camp Northwest Of Brookville, Maryland,

September 10, 1862.

Dearest: — We are now about twenty-five or thirty miles northwest of Washington, about thirty miles from Baltimore, in Maryland. The army is gradually moving up to operate against the Rebels who have crossed the Potomac. We march about eight to twelve miles a day — General Cox's Division always near the front, if not in front. We are now in front. Captured a Rebel patrol last night. We subordinates know less of the actual state of things than the readers of the Commercial at home. Order is coming out of chaos. The great army moves on three roads five or eight miles apart. Sometimes we move in the night and at all other hours, moving each subdivision about six or eight hours at a time in each twenty-four hours. Some large body is moving on each road all the time. In this way the main body is kept somewhere in the same region. General Burnside is our commander. I have not yet seen him. He was cheered heartily, I am told, yesterday when he met his troops below here. His Yankee regiments are much the best troops we have seen East. “The Grand Army of the Potomac” suffers by comparison with General Cox's or General Burnside's men. It is not fair, however, to judge them by what we now see. They are returning [from] a severe and unfortunate service which of necessity has broken them down.

We march through a well-cultivated, beautiful region — poor soil but finely improved. I never saw the Twenty-third so happy as yesterday. More witty things were said as we passed ladies, children, and negroes (for the most part friendly) than I have heard in a year before. The question was always asked, “What troops are those,” or “Where are you from?” The answers were “Twenty-third Utah,” “Twenty-third Bushwhackers,” “Twenty-third Mississippi,” “Drafted men,” “Raw Recruits,” “Paroled prisoners,” “Militia going home,” “Home Guards,” “Peace Men,” “Uncle Abe's children,” “The Lost Tribes,” and others “too numerous, etc.” Nearly all the bands are mustered out of service; ours therefore is a novelty We marched a few miles yesterday on a road where troops have not before marched. It was funny to see the children. I saw our boys running after the music in many a group of clean, bright-looking, excited little fellows.

What a time of it they have in Cincinnati? I got a dispatch from Mr. Clements yesterday saying I was discharged ten days ago by the War Department to take command of the Seventy-ninth, but I get no official notice of it, and at present can't get leave to go and see to it. If the place is not filled by somebody else I shall join the new regiment before the end of the month, I suspect. I have no particular preference or wish about it, but having said that I will join if leave is given, I shall do so unless in the meanwhile some change in affairs takes place to justify a different course.

I can hardly think the enemy will carry his whole or main force into Maryland and risk all upon a battle here. If not he will probably withdraw on the approach of our army. If he does, I can then get leave of absence.

Kisses and love to all the boys. Love to Grandma and the dear friends you are among. I feel very grateful for their kindness to you and the boys. I think of you now almost as constantly as you do of me.

I have very little care or responsibility. The men behave well, and are always ready. I got into an angry altercation with Major-General Reno who was in a passion and abusive to some of my men; the men cheered me as he rode off, which made a little difficulty, but I am told he is ashamed of it, and it led to no trouble.

Good-bye, darling. “I love you so much.”

Affectionately, yours ever,

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 350-1

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: February 9, 1864

Great news this morning. A raid is being made on Richmond by Kilpatrick, Rebels manning their forts in sight of us. All are at work, women, children, in fact everybody who can shovel. No cars running over the big bridge. Double guards placed over us and the greatest activity prevails among them. It is really amusing to see them flying around and many are the jokes at their expense. All business is suspended in Richmond; no papers issued, and everybody with their guns or working utensils. Brass bands are playing their best to encourage the broken down Confederacy. A portion of the congress came over this afternoon to take a look at us, among whom were Davis, Benjamin and Howell Cobb. They are a substantial looking set of men and of the regular southern cut The broad brim hats, gold headed canes and aristocratic toss of the head, alone would tell who they were. They are a proud, stern set of men and look as if they would like to brush us out of existence. Still we are not going to be brushed out so easy and they found men among us who were not afraid to stare, or hold our heads as high as their lordships. A band accompanied them and played the Bonnie Blue Flag, which was hissed and groaned at by the Yankees, and in return a thousand voices sang Yankee Doodle, very much to their discomfiture.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 31

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, April 10, 1862

Beaufort, S. C., April 10th, 1862.

My dear Mother:

I was glad to get your photograph, as it does not look, as did the other one you sent me, as though you were the last inhabitant without a friend left in the world. This one is a thousand times more agreeable, though I have to make allowances for those very extraordinary expressions which play about your mouth, when photographically tortured.

The bombardment of Pulaski has begun to-day. Full accounts, I hope, of the “fall” will be taken North by the steamer bearing this. We can hear the guns booming in the distance, but our Brigade, with the exception of the 8th Michigan Regiment, is condemned to remain at Beaufort. So I shall see nothing, but hope soon to hear the fort is ours, and, indeed, so secretly, yet so securely have preparations been made, that we can hardly fail of success. It is dangerous though to make predictions, so often have I read similar sentences in “Secesh” letters written just previous to a defeat.

The atmosphere is most delightful to-day. I wish you could breathe such balmy, though invigorating air. It is hard to realize that it soon will change to an atmosphere deleterious in character.

It is strange to think how ordinary dangers lose all terror in these war-times. I have been almost constantly exposed to smallpox, yet never have so much as thought of the matter further than to assure myself that the vaccination was all right. It is wonderful too how perfect a safeguard vaccination is. Although smallpox has been so prevalent, it has been wholly confined to the negroes and young children, and a few backwoodsmen, to whom modern safeguards were not accessible, or who had neglected the common precaution. I think there has not been a case among our vaccinated soldiers. It is quite a relief to feel that this is so.

I am glad to hear of all my friends wheeling so enthusiastically into the service of their country. As far as I can ascertain, the position of an Allotment Commissioner is one that requires an earnest determination to do something, to tempt any one to accept it, and yet it is really a philanthropic act to perform its purposes.

I wish Charley Johnson would come down here. I would give him the best reception I know how, and this is a pleasant season to visit Beaufort. You ask for my photograph dear mother, and I meant long since to have gratified you, having had myself taken alone, in company with the Staff, and on horseback with the Staff — in a variety of positions, you see, to suit everyone. But I know not how it is that I have never been able to get a copy since they were first struck off, although we have had promises enough that they will soon be ready. I intended to surprise you, but despairing of success, I write the matter that you may not think I have not tried to gratify your wishes.

I am suffering great torments from the sand-flies which abound. These are the peskiest little creatures you ever saw, completely forbidding sleep on a warm night, and defying such flimsy obstruction as mosquito bars.

I wrote Sam Elliott a few days ago. Wm. Elliott has returned looking well, and disgusted with leaves of absence. He is really about the most efficient man in the Brigade. His education has given him great habits of self-reliance, which are invaluable in his profession. Give my love to Mrs. Walter Phelps, and tell her I expect she will send me a photograph of that precious baby of hers. Capital idea photographs are!

Love to all my dear friends.

Affec'y.,

 Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 136-8

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: December 3, 1862

One of the President's Aids, Mr. Johnston, has asked the Secretary's permission for Mrs E. B. Hoge, Mrs. M. Anderson, Miss Judith Venable, and Mrs. R. J. Breckinridge, with children and servants, to leave Richmond by flag of truce, and proceed to their homes in Kentucky. Of course it will be granted — the President sanctions it, but does not commit himself by ordering it.

There was no fighting on the Rappahannock yesterday, and no rumors to-day.

Letters were received from Gen. Lee to-day. He says several thousand of his men are barefoot! He suggests that shoes be taken from the extortioners at a fair price. That is right. He also recommends a rule of the department putting cavalry on foot when they cannot furnish good horses, and mounting infantry that can and will procure them. This would cause better care to be taken of horses. Gen. Lee also writes for more arms — which may indicate a battle. But the weather is getting bad again, and the roads will not admit of marching.

Mr. Gastrell, M. C, writes to the Secretary of War for permission for Messrs. Frank and Gemot, a Jew firm of Augusta, Ga., to bring through the lines a stock of goods they have just purchased of the Yankees in Memphis. Being a member of Congress, I think his request will be granted. And if all such applications be granted, I think money-making will soon absorb the war, and bring down the prices of goods.

We are a confident people. There are no symptoms of trepidation, although a hostile army of 150,000 men is now within two day's march of our capital. A few of guilty consciences, the extortioners, may feel alarm — but not the women and children. They reflect that over one hundred thousand of the enemy were within four miles of the city last spring and summer—and were repulsed.

The negroes are the best-clad people in the South. They have their Sunday clothing, and the half-worn garments of their masters and mistresses; and having worn these but once a week, they have a decidedly fresher aspect than the dresses of their owners. They are well fed, too, at any cost, and present a happy-appearance. And they are happy. It is a great mistake of the Abolitionists, in supposing the slaves hail their coming with delight; on the contrary, nearly all the negroes regard their approach with horror.

It might be well for the South if 500,000 of the slaves were suddenly emancipated. The loss would not be felt — and the North would soon be conscious of having gained nothing! My friend, Dr. Powell, near the city, abandoned his farm last summer, when it was partly in possession of the enemy, leaving fifty negroes on it — which he could have sold for $50,000. They promised not to leave him, and they kept their word. Judge Donnell, in North Carolina, has left his plantation with several hundred thousand dollars worth on it — rather risking their loss than to sell them.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 201-3

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 24, 1862

Fredericksburg not shelled yet; but the women and children are flying hither. The enemy fired on a train of women and children yesterday, supposing the cars (baggage) were conveying military stores. The Northern press says Burnside is determined to force his way, directly from the Rappahannock to Richmond, by virtue of superior numbers. The thing Lee desires him to attempt.

The enemy are landing troops at Newport News, and we shall soon hear of gun-boats and transports in the James River. But no one is dismayed. We have supped on horrors so long, that danger now is an accustomed condiment. Blood will flow in torrents, and God will award the victory.

Another letter from Gen. Whiting says there is every reason to suppose that Wilmington will be attacked immediately, and if reinforcements (10,000) be not sent him, the place cannot be defended against a land assault. Nor is this all: for if the city falls, with the present force only to defend it, none of our men can escape. There is no repose for us!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 195-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 23, 1862

The cars which came in from the North last night brought a great many women, children, and negroes from Fredericksburg and its vicinity. The benevolent and patriotic citizens here had, I believe, made some provision for their accommodation. But the enemy had not yet shelled the town.

There is a rumor that Jackson was to appear somewhere in the rear of the enemy, and that the Federal stores which could not be moved with the army had been burnt at Manassas.

Yesterday the President remitted the sentence of a poor lad, sentenced to ball-and-chain for six months, for cowardice, etc. He had endured the penalty three months. I like this act, for the boy had enlisted without the consent of his parents, and was only sixteen years of age.

J. R. Anderson & Co. (having drawn $500,000 recently on the contract) have failed to furnish armor for the gun-boats — the excuse being that iron could not be had for their rolling-mills. The President has ordered the Secretaries of the Navy and War to consult on the propriety of taking railroad iron, on certain tracks, for that purpose.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 195

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Sardis Birchard, March 24, 1862

Raleigh, Virginia, March 24, 1862.

Dear Uncle: — Your letter of the 14th came to hand the day before yesterday. We all feel pleased to be in Fremont's division. The only drawback is that it seems to keep us in the mountains, and we have had about enough of the snows, winds, and rains of the mountains. We have had a five-days snowstorm. It seems to be now clearing off bright. We occupy ourselves in these storms very much as you do, reading newspapers and discussing the war news. The recent victories convince a great many in the region south of us that the game is up. On the other hand, the Government at Richmond is making desperate efforts to get out under arms nearly the whole male population of military age. Many are running away from the drafting. Being the extreme outpost we see daily all sorts of queer characters. They sometimes come in boldly, sometimes with fear and trembling. I am often puzzled what to do with them, but manage to dispose of them as fast as they come.

An odd laughable incident occurred to Joe the other day. You know his fondness for children. He always talks to them and generally manages to get them on his knee. Stopping at a farm-house he began to make advances towards a little three-year old boy who could scarcely talk plain enough to be understood. The doctor said, “Come, my fine little fellow. I want to talk to you.” The urchin with a jerk turned away saying something the doctor did not comprehend. On a second approach the doctor made it out “Go to Hell, you dam Yankee!” This from the little codger was funny enough. . . .

I send you a dime shinplaster. — Good-bye.

Sincerely,

R. B. Hayes.

S. BlRCHARD.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 217-8

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

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: July 24, 1864

Amid all the turbulent scenes which surround us, our only grandchild has first seen the light, and the dear little fellow looks as quiet as though all were peace. We thank God for this precious gift, this little object of all-absorbing interest, which so pleasantly diverts our troubled minds. His father has left his far-off military post to welcome him, and before he returns we must by baptism receive him into the Church on earth, praying that he may be a “member of Christ, a child of God, and an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven.” This rite thus early administered, bringing him into the Episcopal Church, seems to belong to him by inheritance, as he is the grandson of a Presbyter on one side, and of a Bishop on the other.

The city looks warlike, though the inhabitants are quiet. Troops are constantly passing to and fro; army wagons, ambulances, etc., rattle by, morning, noon, and night. Grant remains passive on the Appomattox, occasionally throwing a shell into Petersburg, which may probably explode among women and children — but what matters it? They are rebels — what difference does it make about their lives or limbs?

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 281-2

Francis H. Wigfall to Louise Wigfall, November 23, 1862

Camp, near Fredericksburg, Nov. 23rd, 1862.

. . . We reached here on yesterday afternoon, having left Culpeper on Wednesday about twelve o'clock. We were on the road three days and a half, and it rained every day but the last. So you see that we have been enjoying ourselves. The Yanks were to have begun the shelling of Fredericksburg on yesterday, but they did not keep their word. We met yesterday, ladies on foot in all the mud and wet, five and six miles from the town; the women and children having been ordered to leave the place in anticipation of the opening of the fight. What kept the enemy from fulfilling their threats I don't know. They demanded a surrender and the authorities refused; they then gave the citizens until nine o'clock the next morning to move out the women and children: they afterwards deferred it until two in the afternoon, but when two o'clock came the Yankee shells did not. The citizens in this section from all accounts have suffered terribly from the presence of the Yankees in their midst and I think are prepared to undergo any privations rather than see the enemy again among them.

I am much obliged for the things sent me — especially the razor, as cats are very scarce in camp and cream more so.

We had a magnificent supper last night consisting of preserved salmon, sardines, pepper vinegar, beefsteaks, biscuits and butter and real coffee. It was quite a shock to my system, I assure you. . . .

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 97-8

Diary of Laura M. Towne: April 17, 1862

Beaufort, S.C., April 17, 1862.

At Mrs. John Forbes',¹ formerly Mr. Tripp's house,— a modern built new building with expensive sea wall and other improvements. The wind blows freshly nearly all day and the tide rises over sandy, grassy flats on three sides of the house. These sands are full of fiddler-crab holes, and are at low tide the resort of negro children with tubs on their heads, crabbing. Soldiers, fishermen, and stragglers also come there, and we see not a little life. Boats frequently pass by, the negro rowers singing their refrains. One very pretty one this morning Moses told me was: —

“De bells done rang

An' we goin' home —

The bells in heaven are ringing.”

Every now and then they shout and change the monotony by several very quick notes, or three or four long-drawn-out ones. One man sings a few words and the chorus breaks in, sometimes with a shout or interjecttional notes. Another song was, “We're bound to go” — to heaven, I suppose. Another had a chorus of “Oh yes, ma'am,” at every five or six bars.

Yesterday Caroline² took us to her mother's house. They were expecting us and were neatly dressed, and elegantly furnished indeed was their room. It had straw matting and a mahogany bureau, besides other things that said plainly “massa's” house had contributed to the splendor, probably after the hasty retreat of “massa's” family. The two women there were both of the colored aristocracy, had lived in the best families, never did any work to speak of, longed for the young ladies and young “mas'rs” back again, because April was the month they used to come to Beaufort and have such gay times. But if their masters were to come back they wanted to go North with us. They begged us to stay, for “seemed like they couldn't be happy widout white ladies ‘roun’.” They hoped it would be healthy so that we could stay, but they thought it would not be so, because the city is not cleaned as it used to be. They would have gone with their masters, both of them, but they had relations whom they did not want to be parted from, “except by death,” who were not going. One of them had gone at first, but ran away and found her way back here, “by de direction of de Lord.” They were both nice women. In the quarters we afterward went to, we saw a dirty family and two horribly ugly old women. They had got a lesson from some one and said, “We got to keep clean or we'll all be sick.” They were not putting their lesson to use.

The little cook-house belonging to this fine mansion is dark and dirty, but nearly empty. Cut-glass tumbler and flower glass on the mantelpiece spoke of the spoliation. Caroline, who escorted us, walked a little distance behind, without bonnet or any outdoor garment. She, however, wore a silver thimble very ostentatiously and carried a little bit of embroidered curtain for a pocket handkerchief, holding it at the middle with her hand put daintily at her waist. We passed a soldier — they are at every corner — and he said something rather jeering. Caroline stepped up, grinning with delight, and told us he said, “There goes the Southern aristocracy with their nigger behind them.” She seemed to be prouder than ever after this. She is rather pretty, very intelligent and respectful, but not very industrious, I fancy.

The walk through the town was so painful, not only from the desertion and desolation, but more than that from the crowd of soldiery lounging, idling, growing desperate for amusement and occupation, till they resort to brutality for excitement. I saw a soldier beating a horse so that I think it possible he killed him. Others galloped past us in a most reckless, unconscionable manner; others stared and looked unfriendly; others gave us a civil military salute and a look as if they saw something from home gladly. There are two Pennsylvania regiments here now, I think. The artillery is encamped near here.

Besides soldiers the streets are full of the oddest negro children — dirty and ragged, but about the same as so many Irish in intelligence, I think, though their mode of speaking is not very intelligible.

The streets are lovely in all that nature does for them. The shade trees are fine, the wild flowers luxuriant, and the mocking-birds perfectly enchanting. They are so numerous and noisy that it is almost like being in a canary bird fancier's.

This morning we went — Mrs. Forbes, Mr. Philbrick,³ and I — to two of the schools. There are not many pupils now, as the General is sending all the negro women and children to the plantations to keep them away from the soldiers. They say that at Hilton Head the negroes are getting unmanageable from mixing with the soldiers, and this is to be prevented here. Women and children, some with babies, some with little toddling things hanging about them, were seated and busily at work. We saw in the school Mrs. Nicholson, Miss White, and Mr. Nichols, who was teaching the little darkies gymnastics and what various things were for, eyes, etc. He asked what ears were made for, and when they said, “To yer with,” he could not understand them at all. The women were given the clothes they make up for their children. I saw some very low-looking women who answered very intelligently, contrary to my expectations, and who were doing pretty good sewing.

There are several very light children at these schools, two with red hair, and one boy who has straight black hair and a head like Andrew Jackson, tall and not wide, but with the front remarkably developed so as to give it an overhanging look. Some, indeed most of them, were the real bullet-headed negroes.

In Miss White's school all of them knew their letters, and she was hearing a class spell words of one syllable.

I have seen little, but have had two talks with both Mr. Pierce⁴ and Mr. French,⁵ and have heard from Mrs. Forbes much of what has been going on as she sees it. Mr. Hooper⁶ also enlightens me a little, and Mr. Philbrick. They all say that the cotton agents have been a great trouble and promise still to be, but Mr. French says we have gained the victory there. There seems to me to be a great want of system, and most incongruous elements here. Some of the women are uneducated and coarse in their looks, but I should think some of them at least are earnest and hard workers. Perhaps they are better fitted for this work than people with more refinement, for it certainly takes great nerve to walk here among the soldiers and negroes and not be disgusted or shocked or pained so much as to give it all up.

The Boston and Washington ladies have all gone to the plantations on the islands near here, where I am also going, and that leaves Mr. French and the New York party for the mainland, or I mean for Beaufort and this island. . . .

I have felt all along that nothing could excuse me for leaving home, and work undone there, but doing more and better work here. Nothing can make amends to my friends for all the anxiety I shall cause them, for the publicity of a not pleasant kind I shall bring upon them, but really doing here what no one else could do as well. So I have set myself a hard task. I shall want Ellen's⁷ help. We shall be strong together — I shall be weak apart.

I think a rather too cautious spirit prevails — antislavery is to be kept in the background for fear of exciting the animosity of the army, and we are only here by military sufferance. But we have the odium of out-and-out abolitionists, why not take the credit? Why not be so confident and freely daring as to secure respect! It will never be done by an apologetic, insinuating way of going to work.

I wish they would all say out loud quietly, respectfully, firmly, “We have come to do anti-slavery work, and we think it noble work and we mean to do it earnestly.”

Instead of this, they do not even tell the slaves that they are free, and they lead them to suppose that if they do not do so and so, they may be returned to their masters. They keep in the background with the army the benevolence of their plans or the justice of them, and merely insist upon the immediate expediency, which I must say is not very apparent. If they do not take the  higher ground, their cause and reputation are lost. But the work will go on. May I help it!

_______________

¹ Mrs. John M. Forbes. Mr. Forbes had rented a house in Beaufort for a short time.

² A negro servant.

³ Edward S. Philbrick, of Brookline, Massachusetts, who had volunteered for service in the Sea Islands, and been given charge of three plantations.

⁴ Edward L. Pierce, the government agent.

⁵ Rev. Mansfield French.

⁶ Edward W. Hooper, later Treasurer of Harvard College.

⁷ Miss Ellen Murray.

Rupert Sargent Holland, Editor, Letters and Diary of Laura M. Towne: Written from the Sea Islands of South Carolina 1862-1864, p. 3-9

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: November 23, 1862

Poor Fredericksburg! The enemy on the Stafford side of the river in force; their cannon planted on the hills. Day before yesterday they demanded the surrender of the town, which was declined by General Lee. They then threatened to shell it, at nine o'clock this morning; but it is now night and it has not been done. It is hourly expected, however, and women and children are being hurried off, leaving every thing behind, except what they can get off in bundles, boxes, etc. There is no transportation for heavy articles. The Vandals threw a shell at a train of cars filled with women and children. It burst very near them, but they were providentially protected. A battle is daily expected. In the mean time the sufferings of wandering women and children are very great.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 171-2

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Monday, December 23, 1861

Wet, cold, windy; sleet last night. Five companies of the Thirtieth came up last night. Little or no preparations to shelter them — all their field officers gone. A sorry plight.

At dinner today with Captain Sperry and Lieutenant Kennedy, I was handed the following dispatch:

Cincinnati, December 23, 1861.

Lieutenant-Colonel R. B. Hayes, Twenty-third Regiment.

Wife and boy doing well. Stranger arrived Saturday evening, nine o'clock P. M.

J. T. Webb

Good! Very! I preferred a daughter, but in these times when women suffer so much, I am not sure but we ought to rejoice that our girls are boys. What shall I call him? What will Birt say, and Webb, and Babes? “Babes” no longer. He is supplanted by the little stranger. Cold wind and snow-storm, outside. Dear Lucy! I hope she will keep up good heart. I replied by telegraph: “Congratulations and much love to mother and son. All well.”

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 165

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: November 30, 1863 – First Entry

I must describe an adventure I had in Kingsville. Of course, I know nothing of children: in point of fact, am awfully afraid of them.

Mrs. Edward Barnwell came with us from Camden. She had a magnificent boy two years old. Now don't expect me to reduce that adjective, for this little creature is a wonder of childlike beauty, health, and strength. Why not? If like produces like, and with such a handsome pair to claim as father and mother! The boy's eyes alone would make any girl's fortune.

At first he made himself very agreeable, repeating nursery rhymes and singing. Then something went wrong. Suddenly he changed to a little fiend, fought and kicked and scratched like a tiger. He did everything that was naughty, and he did it with a will as if he liked it, while his lovely mamma, with flushed cheeks and streaming eyes, was imploring him to be a good boy.

When we stopped at Kingsville, I got out first, then Mrs. Barnwell's nurse, who put the little man down by me. “Look after him a moment, please, ma'am,” she said, “I must help Mrs. Barnwell with the bundles,” etc. She stepped hastily back and the cars moved off. They ran down a half mile to turn. I trembled in my shoes. This child! No man could ever frighten me so. If he should choose to be bad again! It seemed an eternity while I waited for that train to turn and come back again. My little charge took things quietly. For me he had a perfect contempt, no fear whatever. And I was his abject slave for the nonce.

He stretched himself out lazily at full length. Then he pointed downward. “Those are great legs,” said he solemnly, looking at his own. I immediately joined him in admiring them enthusiastically. Near him he spied a bundle. “Pussy cat tied up in that bundle.” He was up in a second and pounced upon it. If we were to be taken up as thieves, no matter, I dared not meddle with that child. I had seen what he could do. There were several cooked sweet potatoes tied up in an old handkerchief—belonging to some negro probably. He squared himself off comfortably, broke one in half and began to eat. Evidently he had found what he was fond of. In this posture Mrs. Barnwell discovered us. She came with comic dismay in every feature, not knowing what our relations might be, and whether or not we had undertaken to fight it out alone as best we might. The old nurse cried, “Lawsy me!” with both hands uplifted. Without a word I fled. In another moment the Wilmington train would have left me. She was going to Columbia.

We broke down only once between Kingsville and Wilmington, but between Wilmington and Weldon we contrived to do the thing so effectually as to have to remain twelve hours at that forlorn station.

The one room that I saw was crowded with soldiers. Adam Team succeeded in securing two chairs for me, upon one of which I sat and put my feet on the other. Molly sat flat on the floor, resting her head against my chair. I woke cold and cramped. An officer, who did not give his name; but said he was from Louisiana, came up and urged me to go near the fire. He gave me his seat by the fire, where I found an old lady and two young ones, with two men in the uniform of common soldiers.

We talked as easily to each other all night as if we had known one another all our lives. We discussed the war, the army, the news of the day. No questions were asked, no names given, no personal discourse whatever, and yet if these men and women were not gentry, and of the best sort, I do not know ladies and gentlemen when I see them.

Being a little surprised at the want of interest Mr. Team and Isaac showed in my well-doing, I walked out to see, and I found them working like beavers. They had been at it all night. In the break-down my boxes were smashed. They had first gathered up the contents and were trying to hammer up the boxes so as to make them once more available.

At Petersburg a smartly dressed woman came in, looked around in the crowd, then asked for the seat by me. Now Molly's seat was paid for the same as mine, but she got up at once, gave the lady her seat and stood behind me. I am sure Molly believes herself my body-guard as well as my servant.

The lady then having arranged herself comfortably in Molly's seat began in plaintive accents to tell her melancholy tale. She was a widow. She lost her husband in the battles around Richmond. Soon some one went out and a man offered her the vacant seat. Straight as an arrow she went in for a flirtation with the polite gentleman. Another person, a perfect stranger, said to me, '”Well, look yonder. As soon as she began whining about her dead beau I knew she was after another one.” “Beau, indeed!” cried another listener, “she said it was her husband.” “Husband or lover, all the same. She won't lose any time. It won't be her fault if she doesn't have another one soon.”

But the grand scene was the night before: the cars crowded with soldiers, of course; not a human being that I knew. An Irish woman, so announced by her brogue, came in. She marched up and down the car, loudly lamenting the want of gallantry in the men who would not make way for her. Two men got up and gave her their seats, saying it did not matter, they were going to get out at the next stopping-place.

She was gifted with the most pronounced brogue I ever heard, and she gave us a taste of it. She continued to say that the men ought all to get out of that; that car was “shuteable” only for ladies. She placed on the vacant seat next to her a large looking-glass. She continued to harangue until she fell asleep.

A tired soldier coming in, seeing what he supposed to be an empty seat, quietly slipped into it. Crash went the glass. The soldier groaned, the Irish woman shrieked. The man was badly cut by the broken glass. She was simply a mad woman. She shook her fist in his face; said she was a lone woman and he had got into that seat for no good purpose. How did he dare to? — etc. I do not think the man uttered a word. The conductor took him into another car to have the pieces of glass picked out of his clothes, and she continued to rave. Mr. Team shouted aloud, and laughed as if he were in the Hermitage Swamp. The woman's unreasonable wrath and absurd accusations were comic, no doubt.

Soon the car was silent and I fell into a comfortable doze. I felt Molly give me a gentle shake. “Listen, Missis, how loud Mars Adam Team is talking, and all about ole marster and our business, and to strangers. It's a shame.” “Is he saying any harm of us?” “No, ma'am, not that. He is bragging for dear life 'bout how ole ole marster is and how rich he is, an' all that. I gwine tell him stop.” Up started Molly. “Mars Adam, Missis say please don't talk so loud. When people travel they don't do that a way.”

Mr. Preston's man, Hal, was waiting at the depot with a carriage to take me to my Richmond house. Mary Preston had rented these apartments for me.

I found my dear girls there with a nice fire. Everything looked so pleasant and inviting to the weary traveler. Mrs. Grundy, who occupies the lower floor, sent me such a real Virginia tea, hot cakes, and rolls. Think of living in the house with Mrs. Grundy, and having no fear of “what Mrs. Grundy will say.”

My husband has come; he likes the house, Grundy's, and everything. Already he has bought Grundy's horses for sixteen hundred Confederate dollars cash. He is nearer to being contented and happy than I ever saw him. He has not established a grievance yet, but I am on the lookout daily. He will soon find out whatever there is wrong about Gary Street.

I gave a party; Mrs. Davis very witty; Preston girls very handsome; Isabella's fun fast and furious. No party could have gone off more successfully, but my husband decides we are to have no more festivities. This is not the time or the place for such gaieties.

Maria Freeland is perfectly delightful on the subject of her wedding. She is ready to the last piece of lace, but her hard-hearted father says “No.” She adores John Lewis. That goes without saying. She does not pretend, however, to be as much in love as Mary Preston. In point of fact, she never saw any one before who was. But she is as much in love as she can be with a man who, though he is not very handsome, is as eligible a match as a girl could make. He is all that heart could wish, and he comes of such a handsome family. His mother, Esther Maria Coxe, was the beauty of a century, and his father was a nephew of General Washington. For all that, he is far better looking than John Darby or Mr. Miles. She always intended to marry better than Mary Preston or Bettie Bierne.

Lucy Haxall is positively engaged to Captain Coffey, an Englishman. She is convinced that she will marry him. He is her first fancy.

Mr. Venable, of Lee's staff, was at our party, so out of spirits. He knows everything that is going on. His depression bodes us no good. To-day, General Hampton sent James Chesnut a fine saddle that he had captured from the Yankees in battle array.

Mrs. Scotch Allan (Edgar Allan Poe's patron's wife) sent me ice-cream and lady-cheek apples from her farm. John R. Thompson,¹ the sole literary fellow I know in Richmond, sent me Leisure Hours in Town, by A Country Parson.

My husband says he hopes I will be contented because he came here this winter to please me. If I could have been satisfied at home he would have resigned his aide-de-campship and gone into some service in South Carolina. I am a good excuse, if good for nothing else.

Old tempestuous Keitt breakfasted with us yesterday. I wish I could remember half the brilliant things he said. My husband has now gone with him to the War Office. Colonel Keitt thinks it is time he was promoted. He wants to be a brigadier.

Now, Charleston is bombarded night and day. It fairly makes me dizzy to think of that everlasting racket they are beating about people's ears down there. Bragg defeated, and separated from Longstreet. It is a long street that knows no turning, and Rosecrans is not taken after all.

_______________

¹ John R. Thompson was a native of Richmond and in 1847 became editor of the Southern Literary Messenger. Under his direction, that periodical acquired commanding influence. Mr. Thompson's health failed afterward. During the war he spent a part of his time in Richmond and a part in Europe. He afterward settled in New York and became literary editor of the Evening Post.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 253-8

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: May 11, 1864

We surely “dwell in the midst of alarms.” We were roused from our beds this morning at five o'clock by an order for the impressment of our horses to haul the Institute cannon: then came Frank, Preston Cocke, and William Lewis for a hurried breakfast, and provision for their haversacks; ordered towards Winchester, where is Seigle with a large Yankee force. They left at seven o'clock; all the Home Guard is ordered out too; so Lexington is left without men. Last night firing was heard by a great many persons, more distinctly they say than ever before. They suppose it to be at Richmond. I'm thankful my husband is away, on the errand of God's Church, and so escapes going to Winchester. He will regret it no little!

I was very much struck, a few weeks ago, in listening to my children at play. They dramatized that familiar passage in Childe Harold as closely as if it had been explained to them, —

“There was a sound of revelry by night,” &c.

Of course they had never even heard it read; but they got their “Mammy” to cut paper soldiers and ladies; then they had a “party,” and made the soldiers and ladies dance together. While they were busy dancing, came a shout from George: “The enemy — the Yankees — they are coming! Your guns! Your guns!” So the soldiers tore themselves away. “There was mounting in hot haste,” and they made them rush to battle, leaving the poor paper ladies scattered disconsolately about the floor. The thought of war is never out of our minds. If it could be, our children would bring it back by their plays! For they are almost wholly of a military character. Oh! when will the end come! No mail last night; but news by stage that Pickett has been successful above Petersburg.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 179-80

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 12, 1862

At McMahan's our small colonel, Paul Hayne's son, came into my room. To amuse the child I gave him a photograph album to look over. “You have Lincoln in your book!” said he. “I am astonished at you. I hate him!” And he placed the book on the floor and struck Old Abe in the face with his fist.

An Englishman told me Lincoln has said that had he known such a war would follow his election he never would have set foot in Washington, nor have been inaugurated. He had never dreamed of this awful fratricidal bloodshed. That does not seem like the true John Brown spirit. I was very glad to hear it — to hear something from the President of the United States which was not merely a vulgar joke, and usually a joke so vulgar that you were ashamed to laugh, funny though it was. They say Seward has gone to England and his wily tongue will turn all hearts against us.

Browne told us there was a son of the Duke of Somerset in Richmond. He laughed his fill at our ragged, dirty soldiers, but he stopped his laughing when he saw them under fire. Our men strip the Yankee dead of their shoes, but will not touch the shoes of a comrade. Poor fellows, they are nearly barefoot.

Alex has come. I saw him ride up about dusk and go into the graveyard. I shut up my windows on that side. Poor fellow!

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 202-3

Diary of Mary Brockenbrough Newton: June 1, 1862

We heard very heavy firing all day yesterday, and again to-day. At one time the roar was so continuous that I almost fancied I heard the shouts of the combatants; the firing became less about twelve o'clock, and now (night) it has ceased entirely. Dr. N. and Dr. T. have been accused by the Yankees of having informed our people of their meditated attack the other day. They were cross-examined on the subject, and of course denied it positively. They were threatened very harshly, the Yankees contending that there was no one else in the neighbourhood that could have done it. Poor little W. was not suspected at all — they little know what women and children can do.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 140