Diary of Sarah Morgan: Sunday, June 29, 1862

“Any more, Mr. Lincoln, any more?” Can't you leave our racked homes in repose? We are all wild. Last night, five citizens were arrested, on no charge at all, and carried down to Picayune Butler's ship. What a thrill of terror ran through the whole community! We all felt so helpless, so powerless under the hand of our tyrant, the man who swore to uphold the Constitution and the laws, who is professedly only fighting to give us all Liberty, the birthright of every American, and who, nevertheless, has ground us down to a state where we would not reduce our negroes, who tortures and sneers at us, and rules us with an iron hand! Ah! Liberty! what a humbug! I would rather belong to England or France, than to the North! Bondage, woman that I am, I can never stand! Even now, the Northern papers, distributed among us, taunt us with our subjection and tell us “how coolly Butler will grind them down, paying no regard to their writhing and torture beyond tightening the bonds still more!” Ah, truly! this is the bitterness of slavery, to be insulted and reviled by cowards who are safe at home and enjoy the protection of the laws, while we, captive and overpowered, dare not raise our voices to throw back the insult, and are governed by the despotism of one man, whose word is our law! And that man, they tell us, “is the right man in the right place. He will develop a Union sentiment among the people, if the thing can be done!” Come and see if he can! Hear the curse that arises from thousands of hearts at that man's name, and say if he will “speedily bring us to our senses.” Will he accomplish it by love, tenderness, mercy, compassion? He might have done it; but did he try? When he came, he assumed his natural role as tyrant, and bravely has he acted it through, never once turning aside for Justice or Mercy. . . . This degradation is worse than the bitterness of death!

I see no salvation on either side. No glory awaits the Southern Confederacy, even if it does achieve its independence; it will be a mere speck in the world, with no weight or authority. The North confesses itself lost without us, and has paid an unheard-of ransom to regain us. On the other hand, conquered, what hope is there in this world for us? Broken in health and fortune, reviled, contemned, abused by those who claim already to have subdued us, without a prospect of future support for those few of our brothers who return; outcasts without home or honor, would not death or exile be preferable? Oh, let us abandon our loved home to these implacable enemies, and find refuge elsewhere! Take from us property, everything, only grant us liberty! Is this rather frantic, considering I abhor politics, and women who meddle with them, above all? My opinion has not yet changed; I still feel the same contempt for a woman who would talk at the top of her voice for the edification of Federal officers, as though anxious to receive an invitation requesting her presence at the Garrison. “I can suffer and be still” as far as outward signs are concerned; but as no word of this has passed my lips, I give it vent in writing, which is more lasting than words, partly to relieve my heart, partly to prove to my own satisfaction that I am no coward; for one line of this, surrounded as we are by soldiers, and liable to have our houses searched at any instant, would be a sufficient indictment for high treason.

Under General Williams's rule, I was perfectly satisfied that whatever was done, was done through necessity, and under orders from Headquarters, beyond his control; we all liked him. But now, since Butler's arrival, I believe I am as frantic in secret as the others are openly. I know that war sanctions many hard things, and that both sides practice them; but now we are so completely lost in Louisiana, is it fair to gibe and taunt us with our humiliation? I could stand anything save the cowardly ridicule and triumph of their papers. Honestly, I believe if all vile abusive papers on both sides were suppressed, and some of the fire-eating editors who make a living by lying were soundly cowhided or had their ears clipped, it would do more towards establishing peace, than all the bloodshedding either side can afford. I hope to live to see it, too. Seems to me, more liberty is allowed to the press than would be tolerated in speech. Let us speak as freely as any paper, and see if to-morrow we do not sleep at Fort Jackson!

This morning the excitement is rare; fifteen more citizens were arrested and carried off, and all the rest grew wild with expectation. So great a martyrdom is it considered, that I am sure those who are not arrested will be woefully disappointed. It is ludicrous to see how each man thinks he is the very one they are in search of! We asked a two-penny lawyer, of no more importance in the community than Dophy is, if it was possible he was not arrested. “But I am expecting to be every instant!” So much for his self-assurance! Those arrested have, some, been quietly released (those are so smiling and mysterious that I suspect them), some been obliged to take the oath, some sent to Fort Jackson. Ah, Liberty! What a blessing it is to enjoy thy privileges! If some of these poor men are not taken prisoners, they will die of mortification at the slight.

Our valiant Governor, the brave Moore, has by order of the real Governor, Moise, made himself visible at some far-distant point, and issued a proclamation, saying, whereas we of Baton Rouge were held forcibly in town, he therefore considered men, women, and children prisoners of war, and as such the Yankees are bound to supply us with all necessaries, and consequently any one sending us aid or comfort or provisions from the country will be severely punished. Only Moore is fool enough for such an order. Held down by the Federals, our paper money so much trash, with hardly any other to buy food and no way of earning it; threatened with starvation and utter ruin, our own friends, by way of making our burden lighter, forbid our receiving the means of prolonging life, and after generously warning us to leave town, which they know is perfectly impossible, prepare to burn it over our heads, and let the women run the same risk as the men. Penned in on one little square mile, here we await our fate like sheep in the slaughter-pen. Our hour may be at hand now, it may be to-night; we have only to wait; the booming of the cannon will announce it to us soon enough.

Of the six sentenced to Fort Jackson, one is the Methodist minister, Mr. Craven. The only charge is, that he was heard to pray for the Confederate States by some officers who passed his house during his family prayers. According to that, which of us would escape unhung? I do not believe there is a woman in the land who closes her eyes before praying for God's blessing on the side on which her brothers are engaged. Are we all to cease? Show me the dungeon deep enough to keep me from praying for them! The man represented that he had a large family totally dependent on him, who must starve. “Let them get up a subscription,” was General Butler's humane answer. “I will head it myself.” It is useless to say the generous offer was declined.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 92-7

Brigadier General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, October 5, 1862

CAMP NEAR SHARPSBURG, MD., October 5, 1862.

Since writing to you the President of the United States has visited our camp and reviewed our corps. I had the distinguished honor of accompanying him to the battle-field, where General McClellan pointed out to him the various phases of the day, saying here it was that Meade did this and there Meade did that; which all was very gratifying to me. He seemed very much interested in all the movements of Hooker's corps. I do not know the purport of the President's visit, but I think it was to urge McClellan on, regardless of his views, or the condition of the army. I think, however, he was informed of certain facts in connection with this army which have opened his eyes a little, and which may induce him to pause and reflect before he interferes with McClellan by giving positive orders. For instance, the following, confidentially written: I prepared a statement, showing that Hooker's corps on paper was thirty-one thousand five hundred strong; that of this number there were present for duty only twelve thousand, and of these, a numerical list, made on the day of the battle, after we came out of action, showed only seven thousand. Hence, while the United States were paying, and the authorities at Washington were relying and basing their orders and plans on the belief that we had thirty-one thousand five hundred men, facts showed that we had in reality, on the field fighting, only nine thousand. As to the seven thousand that came out of the fight, we should add some two thousand killed and wounded in it. It would take too much time to explain this apparent paradox. Suffice it to say, it results from a serious evil, due to the character and constitution of our volunteer force, and from the absence of that control over the men, which is the consequence of the inefficiency of the officers commanding them — I mean regimental and company officers. Three days after the battle this corps numbered twelve thousand officers and men, though on the evening of the battle we could only muster seven thousand. Now, the difference of five thousand constituted the cowards, skulkers, men who leave the ground with the wounded and do not return for days, the stragglers on the march, and all such characters, which are to be found in every army, but never in so great a ratio as in this volunteer force of ours. I believe all that saves us is the fact that they are no better off on the other side, and it is well known that on the 17th instant the roads to Winchester on the one side, and Hagerstown and Frederick on the other, were filled with men who turned their backs on their respective commands engaged in fighting. It is, from all I can learn, about as bad on one side as the other.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 1, p. 317-8           

What The War Department Thinks Of Cowards

Complaint having been made by General Lander of the misconduct of an officer under his command and the matter referred to the Secretary of War, the following instructions were given:

WAR DEPARTMENT, Feb. 13, 1862

If General Lander is satisfied that Col. Anastanzel was guilty of cowardice or misbehavior before the enemy, he may be tried on the spot, or he may be cashiered by his commanding General at the head of his regiment.  The former course is recommended as the preferable one.  Cowardice in an officer, exhibited on the field of battle, should receive the swift punishment of death.

EDWIN M. STANTON, Secretary of War.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 1, 1862, p. 1

See Also:

•  “Skirmish at Blooming Gap,” Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Thursday Morning, February 27, 1862, p. 2

Cowards

The friend who sent us Liet. [sic] Jackson’s letter for publication says, “In another letter, Lieut. Jackson speaks of one or two cowards, but says he will mention no names, so we are left in the dark as to who they are, excepting what we hear from other sources. We think they should be published as an example.”

Now, we think entirely different. No man is a coward by his own choice or election. – Cowardice, although considered an unworthy trait of character – certainly an unfortunate one – is a natural result of the peculiar organization of the despised being who is afflicted with it; he can no more control the de[illegible] of it in the face of danger than [illegible: an infant?] can keep from crying when in pain: it is a fact, it cannot be of his own willful making and is not a crime; and therefore we should pity rather than abuse the miserable creature whose physical deficiency makes him a coward. Thus far we differ with “civilized” society. We have not the heart to abuse a man because he can’t help running when another points a loaded gun at him and means to shoot. Although it is an unfortunate thing for our army that there are so many of that kind of men in it, yet there are cowards at home, as well as in the army, of a different manner and character – a kind of moral coward – who willfully take advantage of every opportunity to strike at the heart of loyalty, by continually finding faults and magnifying them, in the character and conduct of the only loyal and brave. Such persons do more injury to the cause of the Union that the man who runs from bullets can possibly do.

When we have a little more time and space we propose showing up these moral cowards in their proper light. They are the persons to make “examples” of, and not the poor fool who is a coward against his own will.

– Published in the Stark County News, Thursday, February 5, 1863