Showing posts with label Confederate Flag. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Confederate Flag. Show all posts

Thursday, August 27, 2020

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: March 15, 1862

The boys came out this morning, looking a little the worse for wear, lame, sore and stiff; but with a good bumper of whiskey to lubricate their stiffened joints, and a little stirring around to take the kinks out of their legs, a good breakfast, hot coffee, etc., they soon resumed their normal condition. There is not much doing today except lying around in quarters or looking over the town. Negroes are coming in by the hundred, and the city is full of soldiers and marines traveling about and having things pretty much their own way. Guards are sent out to patrol the streets and assist Capt. Dan, the provost marshal, in preserving order preparatory to putting on a provost guard and bringing the city under law and order. Some enterprising party has hoisted the old flag on the spire of the church on Pollock street. There let it proudly wave; let it catch the first beams of the morning, and let the last rays of the setting sun linger and play amid its folds; let it gladden the hearts of every lover of liberty and loyalty, and let it be a notice to these deluded and ill-advised people around here, that it will never again give place to their traitorous rag of secession.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 46-7

Thursday, July 16, 2020

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, February 16, 1862

This morning we still occupy the position gained last evening. There is no firing this morning. Why this quiet? Why this stillness? The enemy may be preparing for a more determined resistance. But no, there is a truce! Grant is now holding communication with the rebel General Buckner. Buckner gives terms upon which he will surrender. Grant says, “No, I demand an unconditional surrender. I propose to move immediately upon your works.” He waits for an answer. All are in suspense now. Go with me to yonder elevation; look eastward; the sun is far on its journey, while over the broad land church bells are ringing; and while the loyal people are breathing a prayer to heaven for the army and navy, fifty thousand warriors are being drawn up in line of battle. Away yonder in the woods, we see the General moving, followed by his staff, and in the language of Campbell in his description of the battle of the Baltic,

“As their war steeds went surging on their path,
There was silence deep as death,
And the boldest held his breath
       For a time.”

But hark! what mean those shouts that come rolling down the line? “Fort Donelson is ours!" The rebel flag has been lowered, and afar we see the white flag waving. An unconditional surrender has been made of the whole rebel force and munitions of war. With colors flying and drums beating, we pass into Fort Donelson. Our quarters to-night are those lately occupied by the rebels. The Seventh feels good, knowing that they have helped to gain a brilliant victory, adding new glory to the old flag.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 35-6

Thursday, May 21, 2020

Diary of 5th Sergeant Osborn H. Oldroyd: May 20, 1863

Map of Vicksburg showing the river front and the
positions of the Union and Confederate lines in the rear.
When I awoke this morning I offered thanks to God that my life had been spared thus far. We slept on our arms—something unusual. This day has been busily spent in making cautious advances toward the works of the enemy, and, although our progress seems to have been very little, we are content to approach step by step, for the task is difficult and dangerous. Bullets are flying over our heads, and it is quite common to see the boys trying to dodge them. A few have succeeded in stopping these bullets, but they had to leave at once for the hospital. A blanket displayed by its owner was called a map of the confederacy, on account of the holes in it made by bullets at Raymond and Champion Hills. It is good enough yet for warmth, but will not do to hold water. We are ragged and dirty, for we have had no change of clothes for over a month. But we have the promise of new suits soon. If we were to enter Vicksburg to-morrow, some of our nice young fellows would feel ashamed to march before the young ladies there. We can see the court house in the city with a confederate flag floating over it. What fun it will be to take that down, and hoist in its stead the old stars and stripes. Then yonder is the Mississippi river again; we want to jump into that once more and have a good bath. The hills back of Vicksburg, and in fact all round the city seem quite steep and barren, and to run in parallels, affording our troops good shelter from batteries and secret approaches. It is upon these hills opposite the town that our tents are pitched. We must cut back into the hills to escape the shower of bullets, for we like to feel secure, when asleep or off duty. A great many of the balls that come over are what are called "spent," that is, have not force enough left to do any harm. We do not feel quite as safe awake or asleep as we did before we got so near the city. However, we manage to sleep pretty much unconcerned as to danger. Our regiment is detailed to watch at the rifle pits in front to-night.

SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 29-30

Thursday, March 22, 2018

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 2, 1863

We have no news of any importance from any of the armies. Gen. Bragg, however, telegraphs, August 31st, that he is concentrating his forces to receive the enemy, reported to be on the eve of assailing his position. He says he has sent our paroled men to Atlanta (those taken at Vicksburg), and asks that arms be sent them by the eastern road. Col. Gorgas, Chief of Ordnance, says this is the first intimation he has had as to the disposition of the paroled prisoners. Does he understand that they are to fight before being exchanged?

Brig -Gen. G. J. Rains writes from Charleston that the grenades reported by the enemy to have been so destructive in their repulse at Battery Wagner, were his subterra shells, there being no hand-grenades used.

The other night Beauregard sent a steamer out with a torpedo to destroy the Ironsides, the most formidable of the enemy's ironclads. It ran within forty yards of the Ironsides, which, however, was saved by swinging round. The torpedo steamer's engine was so imperfect that it could not be worked when stopped, for several minutes, to readjust the arrangements for striking the enemy in his altered position. When hailed, “What steamer is that?” the reply was, The Live Yankee,” and our adventurers got off and back to the city without injury — and without inflicting any.

There has been much shelling the last few days, but Sumter and Battery Wagner are still under the Confederate flag. How long this will continue no one knows. But it is hoped the great Blakely guns are there by this time, and that Gen. Rains's torpedoes may avail something for the salvation of the city.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 31

Saturday, September 9, 2017

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: July 4, 1864

The men taken outside yesterday are under rebel guard and will be punished. The men are thoroughly aroused, and now that the matter has been taken in hand, it will be followed up to the letter. Other arrests are being made to-day, and occasionally a big fight. Little Terry, whom they could not find yesterday, was to-day taken. Had been hiding in an old well, or hole in the ground. Fought like a little tiger, but had to go. "Limber Jim" is a brick, and should be made a Major General if he ever reaches our lines. Mike Hoare is right up in rank, and true blue. Wm. B. Rowe also makes a good policeman, as does "Dad" Sanders. Battese says he "no time to fight, must wash." Jimmy Devers regrets that he cannot take a hand in, as he likes to fight, and especially with a club. The writer hereof does no fighting, being on the sick list. The excitement of looking on is most too much for me. Can hardly arrest the big graybacks crawling around. Capt. Moseby is one of the arrested ones. His right name is Collins and he has been in our hundred all the time since leaving Richmond. Has got a good long neck to stretch. Another man whom I have seen a good deal of, one Curtiss, is also arrested. I haven't mentioned poor little Bullock for months, seems to me. He was most dead when we first came to Andersonville, and is still alive and tottering around. Has lost his voice entirely and is nothing but a skeleton. Hardly enough of him for disease to get hold of. Would be one of the surprising things on record if he lives through it, and he seems no worse than months ago. It is said that a court will be formed of our own men to try the raiders. Any way, so they are punished. All have killed men, and they themselves should be killed. When arrested, the police had hard work to prevent their being lynched Police more thoroughly organizing all the time. An extra amount of food this P.M., and police get extra rations, and three out of our mess is doing pretty well, as they are all willing to divide. They tell us all the encounters they have, and much interesting talk. Mike has some queer experiences. Rebel flags at half mast for some of their great men. Just heard that the trial of raiders will begin to morrow.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 76-7

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

Diary of William Howard Russell: June 20, 1861

When I awoke this morning and, gazing out of my little window on the regiments parading on the level below me, after an arduous struggle to obtain cold water for a bath, sat down to consider what I had seen within the last two months, and to arrive at some general results from the retrospect, I own that after much thought my mind was reduced to a hazy analysis of the abstract principles of right and wrong, in which it failed to come to any very definite conclusion: the space of a very few miles has completely altered the phases of thought and the forms of language.

I am living among “abolitionists, cut-throats, Lancolnite mercenaries, foreign invaders, assassins, and plundering Dutchmen.” Such, at least, the men of Columbus tell me the garrison at Cairo consists of. Down below me are “rebels, conspirators, robbers, slave breeders, wretches bent upon destroying the most perfect government on the face of the earth, in order to perpetuate an accursed system, by which, however, beings are held in bondage and immortal souls consigned to perdition.”

On the whole, the impression left upon my mind by what I had seen in slave states is unfavorable to the institution of slavery, both as regards its effect on the slave and its influence on the master. But my examination was necessarily superficial and hasty. I have reason to believe that the more deeply the institution is probed, the more clearly will its unsoundness and its radical evils be discerned. The constant appeals made to the physical comforts of the slaves, and their supposed contentment, have little or no effect on any person who acts up to a higher standard of human happiness than that which is applied to swine or the beasts of the fields “See how fat my pigs are.”

The arguments founded on a comparison of the condition of the slave population with the pauperized inhabitants of European states are utterly fallacious, inasmuch as in one point, which is the most important by far, there can be no comparison at all. In effect slavery can only be justified in the abstract on the grounds which slavery advocates decline to take boldly, though they insinuate it now and then, that is, the inferiority of the negro in respect to white men, which removes them from the upper class of human beings and places them in a condition which is as much below the Caucasian standard as the quadrumanous creatures are beneath the negro. Slavery is a curse, with its time of accomplishment not quite, at hand — it is a cancer, the ravages of which are covered by fair outward show, and by the apparent health of the sufferer.
The Slave States, of course, would not support the Northern for a year, if cotton, sugar, and tobacco became suddenly worthless. But, nevertheless, the slave-owners would have strong grounds to stand upon if they were content to point to the difficulties in the way of emancipation, and the circumstances under which they received their damnosa hereditas from England, which fostered, nay forced, slavery in legislative hotbeds throughout the colonies. The Englishman may say, “We abolished slavery when we saw its evils.” The slave-owner replies, “Yes, with you it was possible to decree the extinction — not with us.”

Never did a people enter on a war so utterly destitute of any reason for waging it, or of the means of bringing it to a successful termination against internal enemies. The thirteen colonies had a large population of sea-faring and soldiering men, constantly engaged in military expeditions. There was a large infusion, compared with the numbers of men capable of commanding in the field, and their great enemy was separated by a space far greater than the whole circumference of the globe would be in the present time from the scene of operations. Most American officers who took part in the war of 1812-14 are now too old for service, or retired into private life soon after the campaign. The same remark applies to the senior officers who served in Mexico, and the experiences of that campaign could not be of much use to those now in the service, of whom the majority were subalterns, or at most, officers in command of volunteers.

A love of military display is very different indeed from a true soldierly spirit, and at the base of the volunteer system there lies a radical difficulty, which must be overcome before real military efficiency can be expected. In the South the foreign element has contributed largely to swell the ranks with many docile and a few experienced soldiers, the number of the latter predominating in the German levies, and the same remark is, I hear, true of the Northern armies.

The most active member of the staff here is a young Englishman named Binmore, who was a stenographic writer in London, but has now sharpened his pencil into a sword, and when I went into the guard-room this morning I found that three fourths of the officers, including all who had seen actual service, were foreigners. One, Milotzky, was an Hungarian; another, Waagner, was of the same nationality; a third, Schuttner, was a German; another, Mac something, was a Scotchman; another was an Englishman. One only (Colonel Morgan), who had served in Mexico, was an American. The foreigners, of course, serve in this war as mercenaries; that is, they enter into the conflict to gain something by it, either in pay, in position, or in securing a status for themselves.

The utter absence of any fixed principle determining the side which the foreign nationalities adopt is proved by their going North or South with the state in which they live. On the other hand, the effects of discipline and of the principles of military life on rank and file are shown by the fact that the soldiers of the regular regiments of the United States and the sailors in the navy have to a man adhered to their colors, notwithstanding the examples and inducements of their officers.

After breakfast I went down about the works, which fortify the bank of mud, in the shape of a V, formed by the two rivers — a fleche with a ditch, scarp, and counter-scarp. Some heavy pieces cover the end of the spit at the other side of the Mississippi, at Bird's Point. On the side of Missouri there is a field intrenchment, held by a regiment of Germans, Poles, and Hungarians, about 1000 strong, with two field batteries. The sacred soil of Kentucky, on the other side of the Ohio, is tabooed by Beriah Magoffin, but it is not possible for the belligerents to stand so close face to face without occupying either Columbus or Hickman. The thermometer was at 100° soon after breakfast, and it was not wonderful to find that the men in Camp Defiance, which is the name of the cantonment on the mud between the levees of the Ohio and Mississippi, were suffering from diarrhoea and fever.

In the evening there was a review of three regiments, forming a brigade of some 2800 men, who went through their drill, advancing in columns of company, moving en echelon, changing front, deploying into line on the centre company, very creditably. It was curious to see what a start ran through the men during the parade when a gun was fired from the battery close at hand, and how their heads turned toward the river; but the steamer which had appeared round the bend hoisted the private signs, by which she was known as a friend, and tranquillity was restored.

I am not sure that most of these troops desire anything but a long residence at a tolerably comfortable station, with plenty of pay and no marching. Cairo, indeed, is not comfortable; the worst barrack that ever asphyxiated the British soldier would be better than the best shed here, and the flies and the mosquitoes are beyond all conception virulent and pestiferous. I would not give much to see Cairo in its normal state, but it is my fate to witness the most interesting scenes in the world through a glaze of gunpowder. It would be unfair to say that any marked superiority in dwelling, clothing, or comfort was visible between the mean white of Cairo or the black chattel a few miles down the river. Brawling, rioting, and a good deal of drunkenness prevailed in the miserable sheds which line the stream, although there was nothing to justify the libels on the garrison of the Columbus Crescent, edited by one Colonel L. G. Faxon, of the Tennessee Tigers, with whose writings I was made acquainted by General Prentiss, to whom they appeared to give more annoyance than he was quite wise in showing.

This is a style of journalism which may have its merits, and which certainly is peculiar; I give a few small pieces. “The Irish are for us, and they will knock Bologna sausages out of the Dutch, and we will knock wooden nutmegs out of the Yankees.” “The mosquitoes of Cairo have been sucking the lager-bier out of the dirty soldiers there so long, they are bloated and swelled up as large as spring ’possums. An assortment of Columbus mosquitoes went up there the other day to suck some, but as they have not returned, the probability is they went off with delirium tremens; in fact, the blood of these Hessians would poison the most degraded tumble bug in creation.”

Our editor is particularly angry about the recent seizure of a Confederate flag at Columbus by Colonel Oglesby and a party of Federals from Cairo. Speaking of a flag intended for himself, he says, “Would that its folds had contained 1000 asps to sting 1000 Dutchmen to eternity unshriven.” Our friend is certainly a genius. His paper of June the 19th opens with an apology for the non-appearance of the journal for several weeks. “Before leaving,” he says, “we engaged the services of a competent editor, and left a printer here to issue the paper regularly. We were detained several weeks beyond our time, the aforesaid printer promised faithfully to perform his duties, but he left the same day we did, and consequently there was no one to get out the paper. We have the charity to suppose that fear and bad whiskey had nothing to do with his evacuation of Columbus.” Another elegant extract about the flag commences, “When the bow-legged wooden-shoed, sour craut stinking, Bologna sausage eating, hen roost robbing Dutch sons of —— had accomplished the brilliant feat of taking down the Secession flag on the river bank, they were pointed to another flag of the same sort which their guns did not cover, flying gloriously and defiantly, and dared yea! double big black dog — dared, as we used to say at school, to take that flag down — the cowardly pups, the thieving sheep dogs, the sneaking skunks dare not do so, because their twelve pieces of artillery were not bearing on it.” As to the Federal commander at Cairo, Colonel Faxon's sentiments are unambiguous. “The qualifications of this man, Prentiss,” he says, “for the command of such a squad of villains and cut-throats are, that he is a miserable hound, a dirty dog, a sociable fellow, a treacherous villain, a notorious thief, a lying blackguard, who has served his regular five years in the Penitentiary and keeps his hide continually full of Cincinnati whiskey, which he buys by the barrel in order to save his money — in him are embodied the leprous rascals ties of the world, and in this living score, the gallows is cheated of its own. Prentiss wants our scalp; we propose a plan by which he may get that valuable article. Let him select 150 of his best fighting men, or 250 of his lager-bier Dutchmen, we will select 100, then let both parties meet where there will be no interruption at the scalping business, and the longest pole will knock the persimmon. If he does not accept this proposal, he is a coward. We think this a gentlemanly proposition and quite fair and equal to both parties.”

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, Vol. 1, p. 332-6

Sunday, June 18, 2017

1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: March 18, 1862

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

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

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

Thursday, June 15, 2017

1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: March 6, 1862

Near New Madrid, Mo., March 6, 1862.

What oceans of fun we are having here. Here goes for all of it to date, and I'll be lucky if I'm able to tell you the finale. We went down to Commerce the 26th of February. Troops were scattered everywhere over the town and vicinity for 15 miles about. Could form no idea of the number there, but it was variously estimated at from 15,000 to 45,000. On the 28th we started, our regiment in advance, and camped that night at Hunter's farm, the same place we stopped last fall when going to Bloomfield under Oglesby. We reached Hunter's at 2 o'clock p. m., and at 11 the same morning Jeff Thompson had been there waiting for us with six pieces of cannon. He skedaddled, but still kept in the neighboring swamps. The next morning we again started in advance and after a ride of five miles heard firing about the same distance ahead. We let the horses go and in a very short time were within the limits of the muss. We came up with a company of cavalry from Bird's Point standing in line at the end of a lane, about a mile down which we could see Thompson's forces drawn up with his artillery “in battery.” He saw us about as quick as we got up, and limbered up in double quick and scooted. Then the fun commenced. We chased him for 15 miles over a splendid straight, wide, level road, which he strewed With blankets, guns, hats, and at last dropped his artillery. A dozen of our boys kept up the chase until within a half mile of New Madrid, where they captured a wagon load of grain and a nigger, and returned at leisure. We caught a captain, 1st. lieutenant and some privates. Next day, the 2d of March, our regiment went down to New Madrid to reconnoiter. A regular colonel went along to draw a map of the country. We went it blind right into the edge of town, where we ran onto a lot of infantry. As fighting wasn't the object, we filed off to the left into a cornfield to get a new view of town. We were going slowly down on the town in line of battle, when a battery opened on us right, smartly. We got out of that, but in good order. Only one shell touched us and that burst right under a horse's nose. One piece bruised the horse a little and knocked the rider off, but did not hurt the man at all, and the horse is now fit for duty again. Almost miraculous, wasn't it? There were lots of shell and balls fell around us. On the 3d the whole army got here and we again marched on the burg. The gunboats opened on us and we had to draw back. That day three 64-pound shells burst within 30 yards of me. We have been lying, since then, about two miles from town. They throw a shell over here occasionally but haven't hurt any body yet at this distance. To-day the cavalry have been out again to see if the gunboats have left, (that's all that keeps us from taking the town). The boats were still there and again shelled us, killing one man and a horse in the Michigan 3d. They killed one man on the 3d in the 39th Ohio, and the same shell wounded several others. Yesterday 2,000 or 3,000 men went around New Madrid down the river ten miles to Point Pleasant, but were kept off by the damned gunboats, just like we are here. If two or three of our gunboats could only slip down far enough to see their gunboats (two of them) and steamboats coming and going with their secesh flags flying. They have burned a half dozen houses in town since we came here. Don't know what for. Brigadier General Pope who is in command here has been made a major general. The colonel has just come from his quarters, and reports that Foote will be here with his gunboats day after to-morrow at farthest. We have been scouting all afternoon and I'm blamed tired. I took four men and went it alone. Had a good time but got lost and didn't get back until 8 p. m. Captured a lot of ginger snaps, and had a good talk with a handsome widow, while the boats were firing at the Michigan cavalry on our left. These shells don't scare a fellow half as much as the thoughts of them do. Why you really don't mind it at all. I don't like the idea of those musket balls, but maybe that is also worse than the reality.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 63-5

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Brigadier-General Pierre G. T. Beauregard to Leroy P. Walker, April 16, 1861

HEADQUARTERS PROVISIONAL ARMY, C. S. A.,
Charleston, S.C., April 16, 1861.

SIR: I have the honor to submit the following summary statement of the circumstances of the surrender of Fort Sumter: —

On the refusal of Major Anderson to engage, in compliance with my demand, to designate the time when he would evacuate Fort Sumter, and to agree meanwhile not to use his guns against us, at 3.20 o'clock in the morning of the 12th instant I gave him formal notice that within one hour my batteries would open on him. In consequence of some circumstance of delay the bombardment was not begun precisely at the appointed moment, but at 4.30 o'clock the signal gun was fired, and within twenty minutes all our batteries were in full play. There was no response from Fort Sumter until about 7 o'clock, when the first shot from the enemy was discharged against our batteries on Cummings Point.

By 8 o'clock the action became general, and throughout the day was maintained with spirit on both sides our guns were served with skill and energy. The effect was visible in the impressions made on the walls of Fort Sumter. From our mortar batteries shells were thrown with such precision and rapidity that it soon became impossible for the enemy to employ his guns en barbette, of which several were dismounted. The engagement was continued without any circumstance of special note until nightfall, before which time the fire from Sumter had evidently slackened. Operations on our side were sustained throughout the night, provoking, however, only a feeble response.

On the morning of the 13th the action was prosecuted with renewed vigor, and about 7½ o'clock it was discovered our shells had set fire to the barracks in the fort. Speedily volumes of smoke indicated an extensive conflagration, and apprehending some terrible calamity to the garrison I immediately dispatched an offer of assistance to Major Anderson, which, however, with grateful acknowledgments, he declined. Meanwhile, being informed about 2 o'clock that a white flag was displayed from Sumter I dispatched two of my aides to Major Anderson with terms of evacuation. In recognition of the gallantry exhibited by the garrison I cheerfully agreed that on surrendering the fort the commanding officer might salute his flag.

By 8 o'clock the terms of evacuation were definitely accepted. Major Anderson having expressed a desire to communicate with the United States vessels lying off the harbor, with a view to arrange for the transportation of his command to some port in the United States, one of his officers, accompanied by Captain Hartstene and three of my aides, was permitted to visit the officer in command of the squadron to make provision for that object. Because of an unavoidable delay the formal transfer of the fort to our possession did not take place until 4 o'clock in the afternoon of the 14th instant. At that hour, the place having been evacuated by the United States garrison, our troops occupied it, and the Confederate flag was hoisted on the ramparts of Sumter with a salute from the various batteries.

The steamer Isabel having been placed at the service of Major Anderson, he and his command were transferred to the United States vessels off the harbor.

The urgency of immediate engagements prevents me from giving at present a more circumstantial narrative of the incidents connected with the capture of Fort Sumter. When the reports from the various commanders of batteries are received I will hasten to forward you a more detailed account.

In conclusion, I am happy to state that the troops, both officers and soldiers, of the Regulars, Volunteers, Militia, and Navy, by their energy, zeal, perseverance, labor, and endurance before the attack, and by their courage and gallantry during its continuance, exhibited all the characteristics of the best troops; and to my staff, Regular and Volunteer, I am much indebted for the prompt and complete execution of my orders, which had to be communicated in open boats during the bombardment to the different batteries then engaged.

I remain, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

G. T. BEAUREGARD,
Brigadier-General, Commanding.
 Hon. L. P. WALKER,
Secretary of War, Montgomery, Ala.

SOURCES: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 1 (Serial No. 1), p. 29-30; This report is quoted in Samuel Wylie Crawford’s The Genesis of the Civil War: The Story of Sumter, 1860-1861, p. 447.

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Diary of Private Charles Wright Wills: June 13, 1861

Cairo. I am converted to the belief that Cairo is not such a bad place after all. The record shows that less deaths have occurred here in seven weeks among 3,000 men, than in Villa Ridge (a higher, and much dryer place with abundant shade and spring water), in five weeks among 1,000. There has been but one death here by disease in that time, and that with miserable hospital accommodations. The soldiers lie like the d---1 about Cairo. The days are hot of course, but we do nothing now between 8 a. m. and 9 p. m. but cook and eat, so that amounts to not near as much as working all day at home. The mosquitoes and bugs are furious from 6 p. m. to 11, but we are drilling from 7 p. m. to nearly 9, and from that to 11 we save ourselves by smoking, which we all do pretty steadily. The nights after 11 are splendidly cool, so much so that we can cover ourselves entirely in our blankets, which is a block game on the mosquitoes, and sleep like logs. I believe those Camp Mather boys are hard sticks from the accounts we get of their fingers sticking to chickens, vegetables, etc. The citizens here say that the boys have not taken a thing without permission, or insulted a citizen. “Bully for us.”

We had a little fun yesterday. At 8 p. m. we (the Peoria and Pekin companies) were ordered to get ready for marching in ten minutes. So ready we got (but had to leave knapsacks, canteens and blankets) and were marched down to the “City of Alton,” which had on board a six pounder and one 12 pound howitzer. We cast off, fired a salute of two guns and steamed down the Mississippi. After five miles the colonel (Oglesby) called us together, told us that he was out on a reconoitering expedition, and his information led him to think we should be forced into a little fight before we got back. We were then ordered to load and keep in our places by our guns. At Columbus we saw a secesh flag waving but passed on a couple of miles farther where he expected to find a secesh force. Failed and turned back. At Columbus the flag was still waving and the stores all closed, and quite a crowd collected on the levee, but one gun though, that we could see. The colonel ordered the flag down. They said they wouldn't do it. He said he would do it himself then. They answered, “We'd like to see you try it.” We were drawn up then round the cabin deck guards next the shore in two ranks, with guns at “ready,” and the captain jumped ashore and hauled down the serpent. We were all sure of a skirmish but missed it. Flag was about 15x7, with eight stars and three stripes. I send you some scraps of it. They raised another flag one hour after we left and sent us word to “Come and take it.” The ride on the river was the best treat I've had for two years.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 17-9

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Diary of 1st Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Tuesday, May 9, 1865

Revelie at 3. A. M. At 5 Brigade falls in & starts to the landing. are ordered back to camp to await for more boats, at 8 A. M. ordered to the river again march down & stack arms The Blockade runner Heroine lies here. At 11. Cos G. B. & K ordered on board the Robt Watson a stern wheel craft, balance of Regt go on board the Magnolia, at 12, m. signal gun is fired for the first boat to start, our boat starts at 1. P. M. We left the Rebel fleet at the Bluffs, they yet have their colors flying over a flag of truce, officers of their fleet on shore dressed in new suits, wagon load of contraband come in to go to Mobile, take on most of them & just as we leave another boat comes down the river & begins to load the balance. Was asleep when our boat passed Nonnohubbah Bluffs, meet in the river about ½ way down one monitor & 2 gunboats going up to accept the surrender of the Rebel Gunboats & escort them in. Meet also 2 transports, about 8 miles above town pass the Gertrude sunken to midway of the cabin, land at Mobile at 7.20, having made the run in 6 hours & 20 minutes passing on the way the Jeff Davis & the C. W. D. which was a very slow boat. Men were not allowed to go off the boat, Mr Day of co A. just from Keokuck on his way to Regt tells us that the order is published in the todays paper that the ’62 troops are to be mustered out before June &c. some contrabands unloading a wench dropped her baby in the river & it was lost, the mother didn't seem to care & tis thought the affair was intentional, at 8.30 the rest of Regt coming up we disembarked & by the light of the moon marched out 3 miles to camp arriving at 10 P. M. teams soon arrived with our baggage & we turned in for the night very tired.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 599-600

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Diary of 1st Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Monday, May 8, 1865

Rained very hard during the night, hearing that during the night a boat had come in Luiet Laughridge & I go to the landing. find no boat; cross the bayou & gather a mess of blackberries, dewberries & huckleberries, was on our way back when we see coming down the river the Reb steamer “Jeff Davis” by the time we readied the landing the boat was tieing up we went on board & saw the effect of a shell which had burst in her cabin this while we were besieging Spanish fort. She is quite a nice boat. Took a ride on her from the landing up to the wood yard, & learned from a capt aboard that there were 19 transports & 3 Gunboats to come down & that they would be arriving until tomorrow evening, on my way to camp Lt. Cooper told me the Regt was detailed for fatigue, reached camp at 10 Regt detailed to wood boats. While we load the Jeff Davis these transports & the Gunboat — Ram, “Baltic” come down, the Baltic bring with her their torpedo beat, a strange looking affair small & nearly entirely under water. The Regt woods the Jeff Davis, Magnolia & another boat no name on, & are relieved for dinner, after dinner march back, the gunboats Morgan & Nashville have arrived & lie anchored in the stream the Reb flag flying on the Nashville. Every boat carried a white flag. The “Southern Republic” a double cabined concern, one of the largest class of transports lies at the wood yard. The Regt was relieved & sent to camp without working, soon after getting back rec orders to hold everything in readiness to embark at a minutes warning, waited all P. M. no further orders. after Supper Capt Rankin Luit Harter & self go to the landing see several other boats which had arrived amongst them the Reindeer, Watson, & Admiral, begin to rain hurry to camp, get a little wet but reach quarters in time to miss the hard rain which fell for about an hour, during which time a train of some 20 wagons come in loaded with resin 10 bbls to each wagon, Spend the evening writing & killing fleas.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 599

Monday, March 6, 2017

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: January 28, 1864

No officers over from Libby for a few days past. Nearly all the clothing issued. A few days more will close up the clothing business, and then probably all the outsiders will be sent inside; and for fear such will be the case we have decided upon to-morrow night for the escape (which I have not said much about in my diary). The nights are dark and cloudy. Messrs. Mustard and Hendryx both sleep outside now, and I must manage to, both to-night and to-morrow night. I have been two weeks trying to get a map of Virginia, and have at last succeeded. A negro brought it to me from the city. It has cost over thirty dollars Confederate money — at the North would have cost twenty five cents, I would not take for it, unless I could get another one, one thousand dollars in gold. We are well rigged, have some food saved up to take along; in good health and determined to get away. Lieut. Bossieux suspects, and today took the pains to say in our hearing that he knew an escape among the outsiders was in view, and as sure as there was a God in heaven if we tried it and got caught, and we surely would be, he would first shoot all he could before catching us, and the balance would be tied up and whipped every day until he got tired, as long as we lived. We must expect trouble. It does not change us in the least; if anything, makes us the more determined to get away. To-night we are to start, and I will write down the plans we have, running the risk of the rebels getting hold of it. At a few moments past eleven and before midnight the guard will let us cross his beat and go to the water's edge. We all have rebel clothing which we are to wear, furnished partly by a negro, and partly by the guard who helps us off. We take the quarter-master's boat, which we unlock, and having been furnished the countersign give it to the picket who will pretend that he thinks we are rebel guards going over to the city, in case we are caught, which will screen him in a measure. Having passed him, we get into the boat and row across the river, give the countersign to the guards on the other side of the river, and talk with them a little, being ourselves posted on general information regarding the place. To quiet their suspicions if they have any, we then start up into the town and when out of sight of the guards take a turn to the left, and go straight to the Richmond jail; taking care to avoid patrols &C. We will then meet with a negro who will guide us ten miles up the river, and then leave us in charge of friendly blacks who will keep us through the next day and at night pilot us farther along toward our lives. If possible, I shall steal the rebel flag, which is kept nights in the lieutenant's tent, and a few other relics, to take along with me. The big bell in Richmond strikes six, and we close our diary, hoping never to look upon it again until we return to free our fellow prisoners, with the glorious army of the .North. Now we leave our diary to finish preparations for the flight for freedom. May God aid us in this land of tyranny, where we have met nothing but suffering. Good bye, Belle Isle and Prison. Hail! Freedom, Home, Friends, and the Grand Army of the Old Flag!. What is in store for us in the future?

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 28-30

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: January 6, 1864

Still prisoners of war, without the remotest idea as to how long we are to remain so. Some of the paroled Yankees on the outside curse and treat the inside prisoners more cruel (when they have a chance,) than the rebels themselves. Blass, a Spaniard, who has been a prisoner over a year and refuses to be exchanged, is the lieutenant's right hand man. He tied up a man a few days ago for some misdemeanor and whipped him. He is afraid to come inside, knowing he would lose his life in a jiffy. He also raises the rebel flag at the island mornings, and lowers it at night.. It is a dirty rag, and the appearance of it ought to disgust any sensible person.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 24

Tuesday, February 7, 2017

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Tuesday, April 11, 1865

No marching orders yet this morning & as our teams had all been called for during the night & sent back to the landing for supplies did not think we would move today. took out the co Books & spent all the forenoon posting the books & making out returns. Some of the men who go to the forts today say the white flag is waving over Mobile. Mr Sperry says he saw it & as near as he could discover from this distance it was a white flag, but the firing in the Bay still continues At 1. P. M. rumors in camp are that Genl Lee has proposed to Genl Grant to surrender the whole so called Southern confederacy with but one condition which is a free pardon to all. Also rumor says Genl Canby has recd orders to make no forward movement until further orders, but the firing in the Bay still continues. A brigade of Steeles men move out at 2. P. M. going I dont know where or how far. The 1st Brig 3d Div 13th A. C. move to Spanish fort. Hear this evening that the Gunboats have advanced to mouth of Spanish river just opposite Spanish fort & are engaging the batteries in the Bay. All the teams are employed today hauling supplies from the landing, a report was arond that Thomas was in Mobile but contradicted as the best glasses show nothing waving above Mobile but the confed flag. Just before dusk without a moments warning the Genl call was blown. Could hear the call all over the corps, & before 15 minutes the 13th A. C. was in the road ready to move not having heard where we were to go I made inquiry & learned it was to Starks Landing below Spanish fort & by the new road across the pontoons 11 miles. At 7. P. M. the column moved & it soon became evident we were on a forced march, when we cross the pontoons at 9. P. M. could see a fire in Mobile which lighted the whole sky. Our Brigade took the wrong road & detained us besides giving us a march of 2 miles extra. men give out almost by companies, we were marched to the landing & there stocked arms at 2. o clock, there were not more than 15 men in my co when we halted remained here about an hour, during which time some of the boys come up. we were moved down on the beech to await transportation, could see the fire yet at Mobile. Regts going on board transports all the while, not certain yet where we are to land.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 588-9

Monday, February 6, 2017

Diary of Gideon Welles: March 31, 1863

For a fortnight I have been ill and really unfit for duty, yet have been absent from the Department but a single day, the only day I have lost in Washington since March 4,1861. But for the illness of Mr. Faxon, Chief Clerk, I should have abstained a day or two from labor. Fatigued and exhausted, I have not felt able to jot down current events from day to day.

With some effort, though with indifferent health, I have drawn up a communication to Mr. Seward on the subject of letters of marque. But after the council to-day he read a dispatch from Mr. Adams, communicating two letters from Earl Russell, which are insolent, contemptuous, and mean aggression if not war. It is pretty evident that a devastating and villainous war is to be waged on our commerce by English capital and English men under the Rebel flag with the connivance of the English Government, which will, and is intended to, sweep our commerce from the ocean. Only by a decided, firm, and resolute tone can the country be rescued, and I am by no means certain that will be sufficient. We are in no condition for a foreign war. Torn by dissensions, an exhausting civil war on our hands, we have a gloomy prospect, but a righteous cause that will ultimately succeed. God alone knows through what trials, darkness, and suffering we are to pass. There is a disinclination to look these troubles which threaten us boldly in the face. I felt oppressed, as did the others. A long vista of direful calamities opens before us. Mr. Seward is earnest to get out privateers to catch the Alabama and the blockade-runners. The President thinks they should try that policy. Chase has lately favored it. I have no faith in it as against the Rebels, who have no commerce to be injured, but if we are to have a conflict with England, letters of marque and every means in our power must be put in requisition against that faithless nation. I have, therefore, doubts about sending the letter which I have prepared.

Earl Russell gives us to understand the English Government do not intend to interpose to prevent the Rebels from building, buying, and sending out from England cruisers, semi-pirates, to prey upon our commerce. In plain language, English capital is to be employed in destroying our shipping interests. If we are silent and submissive, they will succeed, and we shall waken to our condition when our vessels and merchant seamen are gone.

The condition of affairs opens a vast field. Should a commercial war commence, it will affect the whole world. The police of the seas will be broken up, and the peaceful intercourse of nations destroyed. Those governments and peoples that have encouraged and are fostering our dissensions will themselves reap the bitter fruits of their malicious intrigues. In this great conflict, thus wickedly begun, there will be likely to ensue an uprising of the nations that will shatter existing governments and overthrow the aristocracies and dynasties not only of England but of Europe.

I close my book and this month of March with sad and painful forebodings. The conduct and attitude of Great Britain, if persisted in, foreshadow years of desolation, of dissolution, of suffering and blood.

Should April open, as we hope, with success at Charleston and Vicksburg, there will be a change in the deportment and conduct of England. Her arrogance and subtle aggression will be checked by our successes, and by that alone. She has no magnanimity, no sense of honor or of right. She is cowardly, treacherous, and mean, and hates and fears our strength. In that alone is our security.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 249-51

Friday, January 27, 2017

Diary of Gideon Welles: Thursday, March 12, 1863

Had a letter from Chief Engineer Stimers last night. Says the attack on Charleston will be delayed; suggests it will be made the first week in April. It made me nervous and restless through the night; got but little sleep. The delay, hesitation, uncertainty in the Army of the Potomac over again. Du Pont is getting as prudent as McClellan; is very careful; all dash, energy, and force are softened under the great responsibility. He has a reputation to preserve instead of one to make.

Stimers arrived this morning and read to me the minutes of a council held on board the Wabash. The army officers were present, and it is plain they were a drawback on naval operations. Talk of beginning the attack on Charleston by an assault on the sand-batteries at the mouth of the harbor instead of running past them. Of obstructions and torpedos little is known, but great apprehensions are entertained. Stimers is sent up to get more ironclads and another raft. The President came in, and the whole subject was recounted. His views and mine are alike. To delay for the objects stated till April will be to postpone to May. Expressed ourselves very decidedly, and told Stimers to hurry back.

Talked over the subject of Rebel privateers building in England. Said to the President and Mr. Seward I thought England should be frankly informed that our countrymen would not be restrained from active operations if Great Britain persisted in making war on our commerce under Confederate colors.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 247

Thursday, January 19, 2017

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: Monday, November 10, 1862

After breakfast — poor beef — went into town. Advance with secesh flag and a dozen rushed to it and showed passes from Raines and McDonald — one had taken an oath to shoot every picket, straggler, messenger or pilot he could. Citizens came in for protection. Several recruits came in with guns. 6th sang John Brown and Dixie. Got back to the Mills at noon — tired out and chafed up badly — without anything to eat to speak of but fresh beef — and that seldom enough. On a trot most of the time — tried to rest some. Letters from home and Fannie.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 43

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Diary of John Hay: April 29, 1861

Going into Nicolay’s room this morning, Carl Schurz and Jim Lane were sitting. Jim was at the window, filling his soul with gall by steady telescopic contemplation of a secession flag impudently flaunting over a roof in Alexandria. “Let me tell you,” said he to the elegant Teuton, “we have got to whip these scoundrels like hell, Cairl Schurz.  They did a good thing stoning our men at Baltimore and shooting away the flag at Sumter. It has set the great North a howling for blood, and they'll have it.”

“I heard," said Schurz, "you preached a sermon to your men yesterday."

“No, sir! this is no time for preaching. When I went to Mexico there were four preachers in my regiment. In less than a week I issued orders for them all to stop preaching and go to playing cards. In a month or so, they were the biggest devils and best fighters I had.”

An hour afterward Carl Schurz told me he was going home to arm his clansmen for the wars. He has obtained three months’ leave of absence from his diplomatic duties, and permission to raise a cavalry regiment. I doubt the propriety of the movement. He will make a wonderful land pirate; bold, quick, brilliant and reckless. He will be hard to control and difficult to direct. Still, we shall see. He is a wonderful man.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 26-7; Tyler Dennett, Editor, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and Letters of John Hay, p. 13-4; Michael Burlingame & John R. Turner Ettlinger, Editors; Inside Lincoln's White House: The Complete Civil War Diary of John Hay, p. 13-4

Thursday, October 27, 2016

Brigadier-General William F. Bartlett to Harriet Plummer Bartlett, August 5, 1864

Prisoners' Hospital,
Danville, Va., August 5, 1864.

Dear Mother, — I will write a few lines in the hope that they may reach you at some time. You know, of course, that I was taken prisoner, that my leg (wooden) was crushed; the man next me was killed by the same shell. I was very much used up and have been very weak from diarrhoea since. I was brought from the prison to this place night before last. The other officers were all sent to Columbia, S. C, yesterday, Colonel Weld and Captain Amory included; so I am all alone I shall be sent there when I am well enough, I suppose. I am in a tent here, and have plenty of fresh air. I hope no blame is given me for the failure of Saturday. I certainly did all in my power. I held the pit with, hardly any force after the rest of the line had been retaken. The rebel flag was within six feet of mine, just the ridge of dirt between, for nearly an hour. It was impossible to withdraw without sacrificing all the men, so I held on as long as possible in hope of reinforcements. The negroes were crowded into the same pit with us when they retreated in such confusion, and we have been treated worse, an account of being taken with them.

I shall get better here, I think. I don't suppose you will be able to send me anything. Tufts, the Massachusetts Agent in Washington, will know. Write me. Not more than one page is allowed, I believe. Address Prisoner of War, Danville, Va. Has George got home yet? And my horses? Take good care of Ned. I made arrangements to have him sent home in case anything happened to me. The Chaplain and Dr. White promised to see to it. If you can send me a small box with something to eat and drink, some tea and coffee, I should like it. It might get to me. Send it through Tufts, Massachusetts Agent in Washington. Send this letter to A. P. I shall not be able to write any more at present. I have Uncle Edwin's “letter” with me, and may be able to use it. Don't be worried about me, I shall be well soon. I shall get a pair of crutches made so I can get about soon. My half-dollar pocket-piece did me good service; brought me eight dollars confederate money, with which I bought a tooth-brush. Milk two dollars qt., etc. My love to all. Let them write me often; some will get through.

Your affectionate son,
W. F. Bartlett.
Brigadier-general U. S. A., Prisoner of War.
(Envelopes, $8. a package.)

There has been some talk of exchanging sick and wounded prisoners. I hope it will be effected.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 121-3