Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop, Saturday, August 20, 1864

For nine days I have been prevented from making usual notes. Little passed I care to recall; I force myself to write today. I know no one who takes a general note of things; it is with hesitancy as well as difficulty, that I do. I cannot say that mine is more than meager penciling. They are samples of the best and some of the worst things that I note. Two of the sick mentioned the 11th, died the 13th; the others on the 15th. One had turned gray since I first saw him. He had money but could not save himself. His was the common complaint. He died within four feet of me suddenly falling; was from Pennsylvania. Another old prisoner died today of squalor within a few feet of us. The mortality, notwithstanding the removal of so many of the worst cases, has increased. The average is over 100 per day this month. On the 15th, 140; the 17th, 128 died. I am told by a man who is on duty at the hospital. The sick again admited to the gate for prescription; but three taken to the hospital out of several hundred applicants. It is the most disagreeable task one ever had to do, to cary a sick man before the doctor and then it amounts to nothing.

H. D. Merritt of our company was taken out in an awful condition on the 14th. He is from Sodus, Wayne county, N. Y. Fourteen of Company F have died; eleven more are in bad condition. (This does not include myself.) Madison hurt his foot a few days ago; his blood is so weak that it does not heal. Gangrene set in; it has eaten to the bone. The limbs of others are so affected as to be unable to walk. Most of them were strong heavy men, but we have to carry them to sick call. Gangrene is one of the frightful phases of these diseases. W. M. Townsend of the 111th N. Y. received a slight scratch on his thigh which has spread to a large and painful sore. It is by great precaution it is kept from being maggoty. The 12th I accidentally found Hanson, a young German of our company whom I had not seen for a long time, he belonged to another detachment. He was helpless but could talk; had fallen in the swamp, was completely daubed. His gums are rotted with scurvy; the backs of his hands and feet raw from sunburn; maggots actually crawling in his flesh. I got Sergeant Burton and went to the gate begging aid. At last got the answer, "You Yanks do something for your own selves." We returned to Hanson, lifted and gave him water, cleansed his wounds, found his detachment sergeant, borrowed a ragged blanket to cover him; could do no more. He died August 16th.

Tunnel was discovered not long since this way: It had been completed to the point where they wished to come out. The head man was pulling down the dirt when suddenly it broke away covering him, and down came a gray jacket with a Rebel in it, gun and all. The relief guards were just being mounted and one of them stepped upon the exact spot where they were to escape.

A Rebel paper I saw today spoke of Major Currill, Commissioner of Exchange, visiting our fleet in Mobile Bay, having reference to sending packages. Fighting at Richmond and other places, and close work at Atlanta. They abound in speculations on the Presidential campaign, and in extracts from the New York World, Herald, News and Albeny Argus and from their view argue the South's success. The World has an article on "The Failure of Grant," denouncing his whole course; and claims that "Grant is played out," though he has punched Lee back into his Richmond ditches and is still operating. Southern Rebels do not claim Grant is a failure. They keep up a bold front which they consider a political as well as a military necessity; but their own admissions, in general tones, are evidences of their strait. To me it seems they have ceased to hope for that degree of success from their armies that can save the little prestige they have abroad, much less secure their recognition, so turning to political bickerings, presenting their armies in the feigned attitude of triumph and strength but base their hope on the election. They believe that a party that could expiate their crimes in the past, would do even more in the future, if raised to power to look down on a forest of Rebel bayonets instead of threatening, sophistical politicians to whom they had succumbed. But they are a mere shell full of dead and rotting strength that has passed its zenith. The Southern heart is burning to ashes; they would negotiate for a respite to replenish the flame, not for Union. Oh, let the North be true in this crisis! Rebels would despair of success before January.

They do not give wood enough to ten men for one. Men go to extremes to obtain it, stealing dead men from their friends to carry out with the hope of getting it. Four men are permitted to go and can bring in quite a jag. Then some will trade half of their scanty rations for a stick to cook the other half. A few will trade a day's rations for a ten cent bit of tobacco. A few so far lose their reason as to throw clothing away, becoming disgusted with lice; add themselves to disgusting sights by going naked. All capable of being degraded so as to lose self respect, become so. God only knows the wickedness and woe of such a state!

I wandered to a locality new to me, a few days ago. I came to a quartet of Tennesseeans who told their war experiences; of persecutions their people suffered for being Unionists; how they fled from home to escape Rebels who were savage against all who refused to support secession. Their madness knew neither law nor friendship; their frenzy neither justice nor mercy. They, with a hundred others, armed themselves and one day cut their way through an armed mob claimed to have been sent by Governor Isham Harris, who designed to massacre or capture them. They marched many miles to join Buell's army, and had several fights with gorillas. They were captured in Rosecrans' operations near Chattanooga, in 1863; wintered at Danville, Va.; came here in March, seven stopping together. Three have died. Prison hardships affect them severely. The character of these sturdy mountain people, their honest, intelligent patriotism in connection with this crisis, also their general history, inspire these lines:

THE MEN OF TENNESSEE.

 

God save from woes of Anderson

  The men who bravely stayed

By Lincoln's flag, for country one,

  Where slavery's power had swayed;

Eschewed the leaders of the South,

  Of low and high degree,

And deemed the flag ensign of truth,

  Brave men of Tennessee.

 

They lived upon their native soil;

  They loved it well and true;

They lived by faithful, honest toil;

  They loved the peace they knew.

But they were those who weighed events

 As they should pondered be;

They saw conflicting sentiments

  Distracting Tennessee.

 

And when the Union of the States

 Was threatened by its foes,

With the Union they allied their fates

  Secession to oppose.

When driven from their homes away,

  By the powers of slavery,

They joined the Union's armed array,

Grand men of Tennessee.

 

They spurned the rule that would disrupt

  The Nation's life they loved;

They spurned the rule, wrong and corrupt,

 As patriots true behooved,

And leaving homes they loved behind,

Engulfed in war's red sea,

They showed great strength of heart and mind,

  These men of Tenneessee,

 

They nobly tendered strength and life,

   If human blood must shed,

Against secession's valorous strife

  By Southrons madly led,

And side by side with Northern men

  They fought most valiantly-

Here brook the ills of prison pen

  Brave men of Tennessee.

 

Behold them suffer here and die

  Within dark Sumter's walls!

The earth their bed, the roof the sky,

  Where woes their hearts appal!

And yet all offers they resent

  That promise them to free;

By loyalty invite torment-

  True men of Tennessee.

 

O, hail the men who know the right

 And for it stand and fall;

Who will not swerve at Treason's might

  Though death may claim them all;

And here in prison pine and rot,

  Though today they could be free!

No truer men have ever fought,

  Than men of Tennessee.

 

The valor of some Spartan band

  From ancient time men laud;

But the acts of these, of Jackson's land,

 Who will their deeds applaud?

I see them dying day by day

   'Mid scenes of misery;

No voice to praise, where death has sway,

  These men of Tennessee.

HOSPITALS, THEIR HISTORY.

Noting the indisposition or inability of doctors to clear the stockade of sick—victims conspicuous for their wretchedness—I have applied my mind to learn facts regarding so-called hospitals. It is no mystery that men sicken in the stockade. Coarse, unpalatable food, a mixture of meal containing cob and bran doctors call it meal and husk—often musty and bitter, stirred in filthy water in large batches, often souring before baking or while baking with green wood, no salt, no yeast, no soda, often partially raw, often over-roasted with a crust hard and tasteless. If changed to rice, that is colored with the dirty water and often uncooked. Exposed to all weather and until some wells were dug, all drank and washed in the same small stream, always roiled and more and more, night and day, being poisoned by drainage from without and within. Thirst becomes feverish, unbearable; to drink is to pollute our bodies with the offal, intermixed, made more stenchful and rotten by heat and rain. Nothing could be more unsanitary, more conducive to disease. What are the hospital facilities to cope with rapidly developing conditions absolutely adverse to health in strongest men? I find these facts, attested by appearances and results. No Confederate doctor or officer pretends to dispute.

This is the history of so-called hospitals here to date and they must continually grow worse. When the prison was built most of its early prisoners were from prisons farther north, Danville and about Richmond, where they were under roofs. Coming here in February and March they readily chilled through. Some refuse of the timber from which the stockade was built was appropriated by prisoners for fuel and shelter, and before hot weather and an increase of prisoners, both air and water might have been an improvement on their former abode. But old prisoners broke down and the first hospital was erected inside of poles and brush. This was the best hospital the place has ever had. The poles or logs were left several inches apart, and as sickly men were put in them the place became as odious and no more commodious than a backwoods hog-pen. A portion had a lose floor, no beds, no bunks, no blankets, no straw. The storm and wind beat through the space between the logs and rendered patients that retained sensitiveness or desire to live, uncomfortable. A few prisoners had threadbare blankets, or remnants, with the U. S. brand, but no other was provided whether prisoners had a U. S. rag or not.

This was the original provision and remained the only hospital until the middle of May, or a few days later, when prisoners began to come from the spring campaigns and were so packed about this hospital pen that the air was infected and it was removed to its present locality to make room. We arrived here from the Wilderness fields in Virginia just two days after this change; but even then the place where it had been, was covered with men fresh from our armies little heeding that the very earth which they had been forced to accept as their abode, was soaked with the filth of the lately removed wards of death, for, then as now, there was no means of disposal of excreta of men who were slowly wasting and unable to seek the swamp or stream, except in illy provided open excavations within the 'hospital" or death-pen. The hospitals now simply consist of old canvas appropriated from other use, ragged or patched, open at the sides, without floors, beds, bunks, stoves or straw. Men lay on the earth in ghastly rows. The ground where they lay is saturated with offal of wasting bodies. The sickening exhalation is constant. Patients have no clothing except that worn during their imprisonment and in active service, never but a single suit, in many cases not much of that, no blankets, except where prisoners happened to retain them on coming to prison. Patients are sickly visages of squalor, decaying bodies, while yet their minds retain dreary existences. There are fleshless skeletons with skin drawn over them; on some bones have broken or worn through the skin. Limbs of others whose flesh has not vanished, are swollen with dropsy and scurvy, discolored, yellow and brown. In many cases ulcers appear—sores from wounds that never heal, and gangrene is having an unchecked if not undisputed reign. Myriads of lice and flies swarm over helpless men; maggots infest gangrenous sores that may have originated from a scratch, a sunburn or from ulcerous eruption caused by corrupted blood.

These matters, seemingly, have reached an uncontrollable stage. There is scarcity of medicine, scarcity of physicians. Nurses are dumbfounded; if they have any sense of the situation they are in despair; can do little to comfort and it seems that those detailed have no adaptation for the work. Except now and then one, would they be retained and for just that reason, in a hospital well ordered for work. From first to last there is nothing provided, nothing arranged, nothing expected but death, and the quicker the better. If doctors had ordinary skill, and nurses had any idea of sanitation, some police regulations would be visible. If this were so and the Richmond government had meant to do anything but murder, better facilities would be provided. I have met a doctor or two apparently of skill, good sense, and humane intent; but they seemed to have despaired of doing justice to their profession or to patients, lacking means and having to contend against conditions which no skill and no medical supplies can meet until conditions change. They have no hope of that. There are some bunglers in charge with a slight knowledge of surgery ready to improve their quack skill by revolting practice. Amputation has been performed where no hope was possible or expected, and in cases where there was a lingering hope, yet the bodily condition of patients did not justify amputation. In no case as I can hear, has gangrene been cured by amputation. Slight wounds are not healable owing to weak blood. Some of these fellows are perfectly brutal, and enlisted in this capacity rather than be conscripted and carry a musket. These conditions are known at Richmond. The prison has been inspected by military and civil officials of high rank. Reports of surgeons, Drs. Reeves, Pelot and Thomburg in preceding months expressly stated not only general conditions but that there were men that were living masses of putrifaction; hospitals without bunks, beds or straw; as above stated, speaking of corn bread raw and sour and the effects of such diet on sick and well that they could not practice successfully, that sickness could not be prevented nor patients cured until made comfortable; appealing for "beds if any in Dixie." All was unanswered. Confidentially these facts are told me by a doctor.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, pp. 107-13

Major Henry Hitchcock, Monday Morning, October 31, 1864

HEADQUARTERS,

MILITARY DIVISION OF THE MISSISSIPPI

IN THE FIELD. ROME, GA. October 31 1864

(Monday morning)

I have this moment (10½ A.M.) arrived here at the General's Headquarters and finding him gone down town improve the minutes till he returns by sending a word to you. I am perfectly well, and in the best spirits—have had a very quick, pleasant and fortunate trip though with just enough "roughness" to make it spicy: met nor heard of any guerrillas on the road, save the evidences of where they had recently been along, and have had good luck and good company all the way. I was very sorry to write you so hurriedly from Nashville and Chattanooga, but it was something to do that: and you must take it for granted once for all . . . that when I write thus, and if I do not always write often, it is because one cannot always do as they would "in the field."

I met Fullerton,† as I mentioned, at Chattanooga, a fortunate encounter and very jolly for us both. His (4th) Corps arrived there that (Sunday) morning and was passing through westward while we were there, which was only for an hour. My note thence to you was written in the open air, sitting on my valise with a pile of other baggage, on a piece of paper lent me by a friend. By the way Margie's‡ nice portfolio is locked, and I don't find the key yet—but I'll get it opened soon. Tell M. that I found time to open my valise and make a formal presentation of the sword; tell her it was done in the presence of hundreds if not thousands of officers and soldiers (entre nous they were all minding their own business and the "presence" means a radius of a ½ mile) that I made an eloquent and inspiring speech, but omitted to mention the donor's name, and that the gallant Colonel was so overcome by his feelings that he made no reply at all but to say that (being in a hurry) he would postpone that to another occasion.

I do not yet know what my duties will be, nor will till I see the General, but find that they will not be those of Judge Advocate, for there are none such to do, now at least, on this staff. So much the better. Gen. Sherman asked for me, and if he can't find something for me to do I'm mistaken and it's none of my business anyhow.

Don't "you'uns" fret about Hood, not a bit. The story is that he has crossed the Tennessee, -for which if true we are understood to be very much obliged to him. Lt. Col. Kittoe,¹ (Med. Director on Gen. S's staff) just said to me that Hood's late movement north had been a faux pas, and of more good to us than him; and if I was a prophet I should tell you, probably, that within the next fortnight Hood will hear news from below that may make him wish he had staid there. However, once for all, for obvious reasons, I do not expect to deal in predictions. Letters sometimes miscarry, and predictions sometimes do harm where it was not intended.

I am glad to find that my "transportation"—one valise and one roll of bedding—is universally pronounced very moderate and entirely within bounds; also my French cot is greatly admired for convenience and compactness. I was indebted to it last night for a comfortable bed at Kingston in a room 10 ft. 5 in. x 9 ft. 3 in. (by measurement), which had bare walls and floor for furniture and which four of us were very lucky to get control of. More than that, seventeen of us, officers en route for Headquarters were thoroughly grateful to the Agent of the U. S. Sanitary Commission at Kingston for a most welcome supper, after all other chances had failed, served on tin plates and tin cups, and consisting of fat bacon, boiled beef (cold) in "chunks," dried apple sauce and baked beans, with what was understood to be coffee, and being brown and warm, was undoubtedly such. So a meeting was duly organized, and as Chairman of a "Committee on Resolution" I submitted one the original draft of which is inclosed and which was adopted nem. con.

After the rest left I wanted to pay the Agent something—he wouldn't touch it. I then insisted that I had a right to subscribe to the funds of the Sanitary Commission at Kingston as well as at New York, for the benefit of the soldiers, but he couldn't see that either, and refused positively anything whatever under any pretext. What must these men do for the soldiers when their kindness comes so welcome to officers.

. . . I cannot tell you how I rejoice to have entered the service. I understand perfectly well, did so before, and cannot do so more truly hereafter, what its realities are. I have no boyish impulse or nonsense about it, but the satisfaction of hoping to do a manly part and share the risks which these men take. It was a singular thing to be and travel with the men I was with, most of them, as it happened, younger than I, who have been in the service one, two and three years, and to whom the names of events and places which to us are only historic, are the mementoes of their own experience. I have been fortunate in meeting in almost every case, quiet, manly pleasant fellows who made no pretense, and had no brag about them. I have uniformly been received and treated with frank and pleasant courtesy, and though I felt like being very quiet with men who had seen and done what I have only read of, nothing in their manner or words claimed any merit. Of course this was right and all that; but it is creditable too.

I have even more reason than I knew of to be glad of an appointment on Sherman's Staff, among others, it implies facilities in the way of sending and getting letters and packages which I might not have elsewhere.

At Nashville I was lucky to be just in time to come down with one of the General's special messengers, bringing down his mail and sundry boxes, etc., for his staff-a good fellow, quick, ready and smart, as well as knowing his place. I have made a friend of him and shall need his services.

As I wrote before, address all letters and everything for me to "Headquarters of The Military Division of the Mississippi, Nashville, Tenn." They will be all attended to there. And remember that when an army and its Headquarters are moving, it is no easy matter always either to send things from or to the same, even for the General himself. The Headquarters which are here today may be somewhere else tomorrow (will be somewhere else very soon)—and even our special messenger had to telegraph ahead from Chattanooga Sunday morning to Rome, to learn by a dispatch which met us at Kingston, whether we should come here or go on direct to Atlanta to find these same "Headquarters." So you must not think it strange if you hear from me irregularly, and what troubles me is that I can hear from you only at intervals. But well you know that while I am here hoping to serve my country it is you who are to me the visible embodiment of what hallows that name.

It is plain enough and sad enough to see that this region is and has been the seat of war. I wish I had time to describe to you the scenes I have already looked on,—I do not mean, of course, any of the active scenes of war, but its visible results. Houses in towns and by the roadside of which only charred timbers and ruins are left; buildings converted into fortifications by embankments, and their brick walls pierced for musketry; and all along the railroad from Greysville, Ga., to near Kingston the half burnt ties, and bent and twisted rails lying by the newly built track, as well as the new watertanks and new timber, etc., in bridges, telling of the destruction which only two or three weeks ago Hood vainly thought would "coop up" Sherman and result in all sorts of terrible things. But somehow it didn't work. I do not wonder at the intense and universal admiration his soldiers feel for "Uncle Billy."

I find another thing everywhere, that so far as I can learn by inquiry, and from conversation both with and between others, one in ten would be a large estimate of the McClellan men in the army. This is true even of the New Jersey regiments, of which there are three or four in this army.

I must close this to be sure of sending it back by today's messenger. I will write whenever I can, and how I hope and long to hear from you and all of the dear ones at home. Give them my dear love, and kind words to friends who may inquire for me. Pray for me that I may do my duty to God and man; trust in God, and believe me ever and always in truest devotion

Your

H.

_______________

* It was Maj. Hitchcock's habit to write on letter paper bearing this printed heading, here reproduced once for all.

† Bvt. Brig. Gen. Joseph S. Fullerton, Chief of Staff, Fourth Army Corps.

‡Mrs. Hitchcock's younger sister, Margaret Collier, afterwards Mrs. Ethan Allen Hitchcock.

¹ Edward D. Kittoe.

SOURCE: M. A. DeWolfe Howe, Editor, Marching With Sherman, Passages from the Letters and Campaign Diaries of Henry Hitchcock, Major and Assistant Adjutant General of Volunteers, November 1864—May 1865, pp. 15-19

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop, Saturday, August 1, 1864

Fresh calls for shoemakers. A few weak ones give their names but are not accepted. Negroes have begun additional fortifications working all night and Sundays, falling trees and making the night air ring. Last night my mind was filled with thoughts of the misery of this place; I could not sleep. One poor boy near cried all night and wished to die and suffer no longer; he is an awful object; his clothing is gone but a rag of a shirt; his body is a mere frame, his hair has fallen from his head; his scurvy ankles and feet are as large as his waist. I never saw a sight more appalling. Then the awful thought that he is a man, somebody's darling boy, dead and yet breathing. And he is but a sample of many. To think of it blunts one's faith in men as brothers.

This forenoon a priest came in saying he had great news; we are to be exchanged. He read his news; it stated nothing definite, a mere if-so-to-be-perhaps, and yet he tried to make us believe it did. Then he preached about the blessed apostles and dealt out hell-fire in big rations unless we accepted certain theories. It was not consoling. It is true Fremont and Lincoln are both nominated. I [visited] an Ohio 100-day man taken in Maryland since the nomination. He thinks the Fremont ticket will be withdrawn.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, pp. 94-5

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop, Saturday, August 8, 1864

No sick call; the poor fellows are disappointed. Well dressed officers ride out the street and back. Passing near us they inquire of a fellow who is whittling a bone: "What State you from, young man?"

"Massachusetts."

"Do you rather live here than in Massachusetts?"

"No, sir."

"Well, you'll be apt to live out your days here, for there'll be no exchange till the war closes and that won't be in ten years if Lincoln is your next President."

"There'll not be a corporal's guard left of this crowd before that time, Colonel," remarked the other.

Before they reached the gate they halted to buy a watch, and a few of us followed up and I asked:

"Colonel, will you come back into the Union if Lincoln is not elected?"

"Ho, ho! You Yankees are not fighting for the Union; that's your mistake. It's the nigger you want."

"If McClellan is elected will the South come into the Union?" I repeated.

"Ah, the Union! The Union's gone up!"

By this time the Major had got the watch by paying $100 in "Confed" and they spurred up. We are often taunted by the slur that we are no better than niggers. They say:

"You fight with niggers; you think it's all right to fight us with niggers."

We retort by saying that it is no worse for a nigger to fight with us than to work for them, and that they would put a gun in his hands if they dared. It is not so bad for them to be hunted by niggers as it is for us to be hunted helpless and half starved, by blood hounds.

A little after noon a man shot and killed. I hastened and learned that he was dipping water from the brook. The sentinel had been observed to be closely watching. The ball passed through the forehead, tearing out his brains. The guard was immediately relieved by the officer of the day as they all are when they make a sure fire. It is a story never denied that for every Yankee killed a furlough is granted. In a few minutes a stretcher smeared with blood and brains bore another Yankee to the dead house.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 102

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Saturday, May 7, 1864

At 1 o'clock last night we were aroused by guards shouting "Get out o'har, you'uns, in five minutes to take ca's for Richmond," punching us through the fence with bayonets, others coming through and kicking those who had not arisen, driving us out like a pack of hogs. It was evident, by the dialect, we had changed guards. Though much confusion and hurry followed, it was an hour before we moved to the train, and when aboard we stayed till daylight. They were box cars, so crammed we had to stand. At daylight officers ordered tents and blankets thrown out. The guard in our car repeated the order aloud, then whispered "Hide them." Some were thrown off and the train moved.

The landscape was beautiful, clothing herself in robes of spring. Morning delightful, a sweet air, the sun shed its rays on the land and spake peace to every heart. Nature was heavenly, her voice is ever, "Man be true to thyself;" the same in war and in peace, to the rich, the poor, the high, the low. Oh, could we be like her! "Only man is vile."

As we approached Gordonsville we saw the heights, fortifications and the southwest mountains. In seven miles we are there. They marched us into a lot, searched us and registered our names. Before being searched I sold my rubber blanket for $5.00, Confederate money, to a guard. While going to the house to be searched I cut my tent into strips, feeling sure it would not aid and abet a Reb and bought bread of a woman, having nothing to eat. They took blankets, tents, knives, paper, envelopes, gold pens, razors and other things. Money was generally taken care of, but some was taken. My money I had tucked into the quilted lining of my dress coat. Many of us had nothing left to put over or under us; this was my case. All I had was my clothing, portfolio containing blank paper, envelopes, a few photos and a partly written diary, pencils and pens, which they took from me, but I prevailed upon the officer searching me to return them, for which I thanked him.

Searching over, we took another part of the field near some houses. There were some citizens, one from North Carolina who inquired particularly about Northern affairs. The coming presidential election is the rage among soldiers and citizens. They believe it will effect the interests of the South. Prejudice and pride are the levers by which the Southern mass have been moved. Through these the Southern heart has been fired by the ruling class. Their eager enthusiasm over prospects of realizing the hope of the permanent adoption of their absurd theory about Southern civilization and scheme of empire with slavery as the cornerstone, is evidently waning. Our side of the story was new. They seemed to doubt the soundness of the old doctrine of Southern extremists, hence desired the triumph of the "conservative" party north more because leaders favored it than for a real understanding of the matter. They had had no idea of taking up with the seceded States, had they been able to maintain their armies along border States, or quarter them in the heart of the North.

Their motto was "All the South must be given up along the Southern to the Western coasts, and all slave States. Picturing the inconsistency of their demands, the improbability of their being yielded, made them look sober. They had supposed the North cared nothing for the Union worth fighting for, and as the Democratic party never opposed slavery, should it rise to power the war would cease and all disputes would be settled by treaty. A soldier of prominence said the mere existence of slavery led on our armies; that if we had the power to abolish slavery we would acknowledge the South.

Then came the usual tirade about disregarded Southern rights contented negroes, their unfitness for liberty. This summary of sentiment, be it true or false, sways the mass, fills the ranks and yields supplies. Yet it is noticable that the mass admit a belief that slavery is wrong, a weak system of labor; but that there was no other system for the South and what would the North do without it? They assumed that Northern commerce and industry depended upon slavery; that the climate is against white industry, white men being unable to endure labor; to which we replied by reminding them of the ability of both Southern and Northern white men to endure the hardships of war in the South.

These people had little knowledge of the character of the North, the value of the Union and the nature of the general government. It was noticable how frankly they admitted the cohabitation of some masters with slaves, or white with black, as more prevalent than is generally supposed, a fact that is evident by looking over the yellow complexioned slave population of Virginia. This intimation was offset by repeating the Jeff Davis calumnies uttered in one of his noted senatorial speeches of the degraded and wicked state of Northern society, and elicited this sentence: "Right or wrong it is the South's business," which came so hotly as to suggest danger.

One of the older citizens said: "Young man, you exercise more liberty of speech than is allowed in this country," which I conceded to be true and begged his pardon.

They do not see that when they forced slavery into a national territory and demanded its protection in Northern communities, it was the North's business. Much of present belief is new. There is a portion of the older class contiguous to the days of Washington and Jefferson, who entertain different sentiments politically and socially. Beliefs, as well as physical wants in the mass, conform to circumstances nearest the mind. We held that originally the negro question was incidental, but modernly became the cause of all difference; the grand issue being free government and the maintenance of the Union the best means to that end. Without slavery this issue would not have occurred.

An old man said he had always loved the Union, but had given it up; if the country could be restored to peace in the Union he would be glad, but he should not live to see it, "neither will you, young man," said he. It is a fact that the privileged youth of the South, wealthier and more favored, I mean, are stronger secessionists and more luminous in their ideas of empire than those whose days reach to the earlier period of the republic, because State rights, which always means slavery, have been the cause of the prevailing mania for a generation. Older citizens have been deposed, practically. Young men who have political views are invariably of the Southern Rights school, disciples of Calhoun and Yancey, who taught the new civilization with slavery as the cornerstone.

These young nabobs look us over as if surprised at our near resemblance to themselves and innocently inquire, "Do you think the nigger as good as the white man? Do you expect to reduce us to the level of the nigger?"

As to those who claim no right to know anything about politics they are like the old lady and daughters whose house I visited near Culpepper, Va.: They wanted the war to end and "don't care a plaguey bit how."

We lay at Gordonsville all day and night between the embankments of the railroad. Here I got my first sesech paper; it gave meager accounts of battles, stated that a force was within two miles of Petersburg and Richmond.

Wrote a letter to be sent home which a citizen said he would put in the office. About a hundred rations of hard bread and beef was issued to 700. I got none. A train of wounded Confederates came down from the Wilderness battlefield bound for Charlotteville; Gen. Longstreet on board. I climbed into the car and got a look at Longstreet as he lay bolstered up on his stretcher.

 

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 38-40

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop, Thursday, May 5, 1864

OPENING THE GREAT WILDERNESS BATTLES.

Before day bugles blowed, drums beat; men get ready to march. At dawn troops were moving; at sunrise our division marched. A mile out we discovered indications of the enemy. More skirmishers are thrown out (56th Pennsylvania of our brigade) and a battery accompanying it. Heavy picket lines move on the right and left of the advancing column. In an hour we move southwest, into thick woods. The road became so crowded by troops and artillery that moving was difficult. At last we moved rapidly, the artillery halting to give us a chance. We struck the plank road leading to Orange Court House from Fredericksburg, and reached a clearing about two miles on, our brigade leading, formed for battle, and halted, having come up with our skirmish line that had met a check. Several generals were riding on the line. In a few minutes General J. C. Rice, of our brigade, ordered three companies of the 76th N. Y. to deploy as skirmishers. Companies F, K and B advanced along the edge of the woods to the left and deployed. Advancing into the woods we were ordered to lie down, General Rice superintending at the time. Sharp skirmishing was taking place to the left between cavalry which grew heavier and nearer. Our line was being driven in by a stronger force, Rebels yelling as they came on. Firing nearly ceased, then came a sharp volley that shook the woods. The Rebels yelled and fell back, we following. This was the first fire received by our part of the line since deploying. The fight grew sharp; our line trembled but we heard artillery hurrying through the woods having to cut roads. The enemy again attacked us. Presently we heard cannon booming heavily, we rallied and Rebs fell back. The lines on our right and left seemed to have changed; then firing nearly ceased. We pressed forward and came up to a heavier detachment of the enemy and had a lively brush, taking three or four prisoners and driving the enemy. Our orders were to advance two miles, if possible, and we pushed on firing and maneuvering every way, part of the time lying flat, loading and firing. We took seven more Johnnies.

Meantime firing began on our right earnestly, an incessant roll of musketry for two hours. It was between our Fifth corp and Ewell's. It began about noon and lasted half the afternoon, but little artillery being used on our side on account of the woods. It appeared they had turned our left flank, which cut us off from any support.

We found the enemy's skirmishers on our left, right and front in heavy force and connections with our forces broken. We sent men to find the brigade that we might get relief or orders, and they never returned. We were dealing with an enemy more than ten to our one who were trying to decoy us. It proved we were behind Lee's fighting line and in the track of his reinforcements, as then constituted. It was impossible to maintain a position against their assaults. That we might more safely retire and to deceive them as to our force the line was assembled, and we gathered nearly 500 men, some of the 56th Pennsylvania, and fragments of eastern and western regiments that had been scattered. To extend our line we advanced boldly single rank, fixing bayonets, loudly cheering, firing rapidly as we located the Rebs who disappeared over the ridge, behind a high, thick hedge, when we suddenly moved by the right flank and file right, double quick. We thought ourselves lucky when we got out of this predicament.

We had lost seventeen men out of our three (76th regiment) companies. During our direct movement, before retiring, we passed over several dead Southerners. The movement became confused, some of the men breaking off from the column and came in contact with another body of the enemy. In getting out I barely escaped running into this body. As I approached they cried "Come in, you Yank!"; their pieces were at a ready, but I plunged to the right into a narrow gulf down an embankment through the brush to the bottom, despite whistling bullets, and soon came up to the officers and most of the men. One of the boys who was taken at this time escaped without hat or equipments.

Several bullets came near hitting me during the forenoon. At one time I stood by a hickory tree charging my gun, when a bullet struck it within two inches of my face. I cast my eye to the spot when another ball struck the tree an inch below and glanced away, throwing the bark in my face. Others struck a log, behind which I lay, and glanced over me.

The woods were very thick and we ran as fast as possible and reached a small clearing. Some thought it the place where our brigade formed for battle in the morning and where we were detached as skirmishers; I did not recognize it. It was now 3 o'clock and quiet all around. We were perplexed, tired, hungry and hot, besmeared with powder and dust, clothing torn and faces and arms scratched with brush. We lay down and ate a hardtack, hoping for the better. In our retreat we paid no attention to prisoners and only one, belonging to a North Carolina regiment, was with us. Contact with the new force of Rebels from which I escaped, convinced me that we had been drawn purposely on and that this party, which seemed numerous, was swinging to our rear and that our movement was timely. I informed the officers of what I had seen and believed and, while they were consulting, a young "darkey" whom Captain Swan recognized as his father's servant, who was Captain in Co. D of our regiment. He was much excited and came running from the woods and said there was Rebel cavalry "right out dar," pointing in the direction we hoped to find our army. An officer immediately rode to the edge of the woods but came back hastily, falling us in and we moved to the west as fast as possible. We had not reached the woods before the cavalry came out on the other side thundering and rattling and quickly formed. We were not thirty rods distant when they formed. We immediately formed and moved into the woods and prepared for a fight feeling confident that if we could not whip the cavalry we could not out run it. A few men were so excited they could hardly be kept in line.

A Rebel officer came out the road; (a mere by-road). Discovering us ready, he returned. They immediately changed their course and we went on. We moved as fast and as cautiously as possible, for the woods seemed full of the enemies scouts with whom some shots were exchanged. Turning north we passed through a dark swamp and came out near a clearing. A portion of the ground had been fought over. Dead and wounded were scattered along. Mostly Union, but I saw two dead Southerners. For a ways guns, knapsacks, hats and blankets were strewn. From the position of these we judged our skirmishers had been overwhelmed, slaughtered, driven in or captured. Coming near the edge of the woods we halted and, after consultation, Lieutenant Cheesman of Rice's staff rode out to an old house at the edge of the clearing. He found an old man and a fair looking young woman who asserted their ignorance of the presence of any of Lee's army and consented to go with us to show the way to Chancellorsville. In about half a mile we came to where the road forked. They told us to take the right and at a certain point to turn to the right again, and we would reach Chancellorsville in about four and a half miles. They were dismissed by the officer in charge and were observing us pass when I noticed disgraceful and humiliating conduct of a lieutenant of the 95th N. Y. volunteers, an insignificant looking fellow who thrust his face close to hers and used insulting language, calling her abusive epithets. She shrank from him. Those who saw him hissed and cried "pimp, louse, fool" and other epithets. He threatened to put us under arrest for using disrespectful language to an officer. They called him a scoundrel, saying "if we get to our lines we'll report you." He sneaked off to keep from being clubbed by their muskets. Officers hearing the row ascertained the cause, reprimanded him and told the men they did right. Capt. Swan apologized to the woman.

SURPRISED AND MADE PRISONERS OF WAR.

We had gone scarcely half a mile before we were in the midst of the enemy again. The first intimation we had of it was the clicking of their muskets as they cocked them and I saw two officers on horseback to the right of the road ahead and their lines rose up in front and on both sides of us. Our officers were too confident of escape and neglected to put out an advance guard after talking with those people, although we had a rear guard. It was an overwhelming surprise. Officers and men stood speechless, huddled together. But one order was given, that by Orderly Sergeant G. W. Mattison of Co. F 76th N. Y., to "wheel into line and fire," which we did quickly and commenced to reload as we fell back. The Rebel fire was directed to the huddle of men, twenty-two of whom were killed and wounded and among them the lieutenant of the 95th N. Y. was shot through the bowels and killed; Lieut. Cahill, Co. B 76th N. Y., through the right arm, breaking it, but none of our company were injured; three others were killed as near as I could learn. I saw several fall in the Rebel ranks. There was confusion and fright, most of the men scattering, flinging away everything hoping to escape. Lieuts. Cheesman and Call flew on Cheesman's horse. Our company broke, the men hoping to escape. Tbout twenty of us re-formed back in the thicket and rallied to fight them, when someone from the front cried "hold on, boys, hold on, they are our men; don't fire for God's sake!"

At this point I saw Captains Swan and Clyde in the midst of the Rebels waving their hats not to fire. Exultant at the thought that we had met friends instead of foes, for the thicket we could not see that they were, we eagerly rushed forward shouting "Good!" Then I saw the two captains throwing off their belts and swords, holding their swords up by the points. The Rebels rushed at us screaming "surrender you Yanks," "throw down them guns." Some were for running, some for renewing the fight.

I heard Captain Swan say "Its no use, better surrender;" Some attempted to break their guns against trees, but Rebel bayonets were so near and so many, that we desisted. The wounded in our midst begged us not to fire. Plunging the bayonet which I had fixed to my Springfield, into the ground I said, "Boys you've got us." "Come heah," they said, and I did, cutting my straps at the same time. I tore the bugle from my hat, not caring to indulge the Rebel craze for Yankee trinkets. Just after an officer rode up to the next man and said, "Gimme that bugle on your hat sah" (a brass ornament for hat or cap.) Jonnies mixed freely with us to trade canteens, knives, caps, rubber blankets, tobacco boxes, etc. Excitement chiefly over we marched about 30 rods to a strip of clearing where we found a division of Hill's corps in line of battle to receive us. One said to me that they had been watching for us all the afternoon. "We'ns reckoned there was a heap more of you'ns; you'ns played right smart or we would had you'ns befo'."

He said the woods were full of cavalry looking for us. They got nearly 300 men.

It was between 5 and 6 o'clock p. m. when we stood before that long line of men saying all sorts of things to us, asking all sorts of questions, what we thought about other battles that had been fought where they had been successful, how Grant was getting along, what we thought of Bobby Lee, and if McClellan would be our next President and other things, while the officers prepared to move the column to the rear. I was very thirsty and was glad to trade my canteen for the sake of water. Cannonading was lively, shells screaming through the air almost over head. We found ourselves between our right and Lee's left flank but nearer to Lee's.

Looking easterly I saw the Union line advancing, muskets gleaming, smoke rolling in front as far as could be seen, probably over two miles. Batteries were in action on both sides. The Confederate works were indicated far and near by the smoke of musketry and cannon. The ground shook from the force of rapid firing. As I looked about it seemed like the beginning of sorrow, a day of trouble and danger passed and worse to come. I forgot to say that Capts. Swan and Clyde threw themselves flat on the ground at the Rebels first fire and that each was grazed by bullets on the cheek. They had got but about two-thirds of our party. In a few minutes the Rebel command "Attention," was given and the column left faced and moved off, prisoners marching by their side. As we double quickened up the hill the rattle of musketry mingled with the roar of cannon and the bursting of shells was terrific. As we approached their lines it seemed to be in confusion, shifting batteries, digging rifle-pits, throwing up breast works, cavalry golloping and reserve infantry rushing to the front. Excitement was intense as we passed through their lines and were hurried back, our own shells cutting the woods around us. We had been taken charge of by a detail of guards, the troops that escorted us in, being assigned to a position in the line of battle. We were halted about sixty rods to the rear from the line of battle behind the woods where we found other prisoners crowded together as thickly as possible, surrounded by Rebel troops. Faint and thirsty we sat down to take it as easily as possible. There came a lull in the battle but in a few minutes the quiet was broken by an outburst of firing close at hand. Great confusion prevailed; shouts of distress and sharp commands mingled; teams with and without riders came flying back; down the road, through field and wood, fled fragments of infantry, officers shouting halt, flourishing swords and revolvers. Guards yelled, "The Yanks are coming, the line is broken, fall in right smart, get out of har Yanks."

It was a scarry time for us, though we rejoiced to see it. Bayonets in hands of excited Rebels, some so enraged as to be anxious to use them. We expected the whole line might be thrown dismayed upon us, and our bullets might whittle us. The stampede was soon checked, fresh regiments hastening forward and it became quiet. Though we had not gone a rod an officer came along and in a kindly manner said, "Sit down, boys, and take it cool." Yanks began to inquire of Rebs about particulars of the excitement, when an officer told both parties to "shut your heads, its nothing but a d----d nigger let a span of horses loose." About sunset the battle was resumed. The roll of musketry was terrible and incesant, cannonading almost continuous until after 8 o'clock. Before dark we were marched about two miles to near Barker's store where we found other prisoners. We got over the trenches, rifle pits and breast works and lay down for the night. It was very dark, and we were closely guarded and not allowed to speak to the guards.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 25-30

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, October 2, 1864

Near Petersburg, Va.,        

Sunday, October 2, 1864.

Last Thursday afternoon we received orders to be in readiness to move to the north side of the James River, and at about nine o'clock that night we started. We traveled until about two hours before day, and were nearly to Drury's Bluff when we were ordered back because the Yankees were making a demonstration on our right. That afternoon (Friday) our brigade and Lane's North Carolina had a considerable fight on the right. We drove them nearly two miles to their breastworks. It was a nice victory for us and our loss was small. The Fifteenth Regiment lost eight killed on the field and had about twenty wounded. I have never before known so large a proportion to be killed. Spencer Caldwell was killed. Colonel Bookter of the Twelfth Regiment and three officers of the Thirteenth were killed—none that you know. Billie was in it, but was not hurt. His company had one killed and but one wounded. Lang Ruff's boys were both in it, but were not hurt. I saw them all this morning and everybody was in fine spirits.

Our cavalry had a fight yesterday afternoon on the extreme right, and it is reported that General Dunnovant was killed. We are expecting the Yankees to attack us again. Grant is evidently doing his best for Lincoln's election. He must have been heavily reinforced. I hope to hear good news from Forrest. If Sherman is forced away from Atlanta and we can hold Richmond this winter, I believe we shall have peace.

We need ten or fifteen thousand more men here, and we could easily get them if the able-bodied exempts would come on here, but they seem to have become hardened to their disgrace. If the South is ever overcome, the contemptible shirkers will be responsible for it. They should have seen our poor fellows Thursday night coming in wounded and bleeding and shivering with cold; but these very men who suffer and have often suffered in this way are the last ones to say surrender.

I received your letter on Thursday, but have not been able to answer it until now. The weather is beautiful this afternoon, but it has been wet and was very disagreeable the day we had the fight.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 106-7

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, November 3, 1864

Near Petersburg, Va.,        

November 3, 1864.

We are still quiet. Nothing is going on except the continual fighting of the skirmishers, which amount to little more than a waste of powder and lead, although a man gets killed or wounded occasionally. The Yankees are keeping very quiet since the thrashing they received recently at this place and in front of Richmond. They will be apt to keep quiet now for some time-possibly for the remainder of the winter.

We are having rain. It fell all night and continues to-day. Billie's big coat came just in time for this cold spell of weather. He is as fat as a bear. The health of our troops is excellent and the spirit of the army is as fine as can be.

We shall know in a few days who is elected President of the United States. In my opinion Old Abraham will come in again, and I believe it would be best for us. McClellan might have the Union restored, if elected. I should prefer to remain at war for the rest of my life rather than to have any connection with the Yankees again.

You ask me to see Captain Pifer. I will do so if I happen to be near where he is again. He is now on the other (north) side of the James River with General Lee.

A man by the name of Simeon Werts is going home to-day on sick furlough for thirty days, and I shall send this letter to you by him. I shall also send my father some smoking tobacco, which we have been drawing monthly as part of our rations, and I shall send Dr. Clark some rolls of blistering ointment which we captured from the Yankees at Chancellorsville. I have more of it than I could use in two years. He has been very kind to you and I wish I had something more I could send him.

Our box of provisions from home still holds out, and if you will hurry up and come on, we may have some of it left when you arrive. I have just finished my breakfast, which consisted of hash, potatoes, biscuit, molasses and coffee. I do not mind the war as long as I can have plenty to eat and comfortable quarters. Your brother is very anxious for you to come out, and I believe you will enjoy it here this winter. It is most unfortunate that we have been able to see so little of each other during the four years of our married life.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 114-5

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 14, 1864

Clear and cold.

Lincoln is re-elected, and has called for a million of men! This makes many of our croaking people despondent; others think it only a game of brag.

I saw the President to-day in earnest conversation with several members of Congress, standing in the street. It is not often he descends from his office to this mode of conference.

Some one of the family intimating that stains of blood were on my undershirts (second hand), I was amused to see Mrs. J. lifting them with the tongs. They have been thoroughly washed, and prove to be a first-rate article. I am proud of them, for they are truly comfortable garments.

Gen. Forrest is doing wonders in Tennessee, as the appended dispatch from Gen. Beauregard shows :

TUSCUMBIA, ALA., Nov. 8th, 1864.

GEN. S. COOPER, A. AND I. GENERAL.

Gen. Forrest reports on the 5th instant that he was then engaged fighting the enemy at Johnsonville, having already destroyed four gun-boats, of eight guns each, fourteen steamers, and twenty barges, with a large quantity of quartermaster and commissary stores, on the landing and in warehouses, estimated at between seventy-five and one hundred thousand tons. Six gun-boats were then approaching, which he hoped to capture or destroy.

 

G. T. BEAUREGARD.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 330-1

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 4, 1864

Rained all night; glimpses of the sun between the running clouds this morning. Windy, and likely to be cold.

Our iron-clad “Albemarle” was blown up by a handful of the enemy at Plymouth—surprising the water pickets (all asleep). The manner of the loss of the town, and of the counties east of it, is not known yet; but everything was foretold by Mr. Burgyson to the cabinet, then devoting their attention to the problem how to violate the Constitution, and put into the trenches some fifty delicate clerks, that their places might be filled by some of their own special favorites. Mr. George Davis, Attorney-General, the instrument selected to rend the Constitution, or rather to remove the obstacles out of the way, is from North Carolina; and this blow bas fallen upon his own State!

We learn that gold is rising rapidly in the North, which may be significant of President Lincoln's re-election next week.

We get no news from our armies except through the Northern papers—not reliable just now.

Gov. Allen, of Louisiana, writes a furious letter to the Secretary of War, who ordered the disbandment of the State Battalion. He says the order is a personal offense to him and an insult to his State (he is a native Virginian), and he will resent it and resist it to the last extremity. He gives notice that the 3d battalion has been ordered back from the east side of the Mississippi River. The battalion disbanded numbered but 150 men! A little business—like losing one-fourth of North Carolina, to put out of office fifty clerks, whose tenure, by the Constitution, is for life!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 323-4

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 5, 1864

Clear and cold.

Grant has attempted nothing this week, and it is probably too late for any demonstration to affect the election. I infer that the government is convinced President Lincoln will be re-elected, else some desperate effort would have been made in his behalf by his generals. Will he float on a sea of blood another four years? I doubt it. One side or the other must, I think, give up the contest. He can afford to break with the Abolitionists now. We cannot submit without the loss of everything.

It is thought Grant will continue to "swing to the left,” making a winter campaign on the coasts of North and South Carolina mean time leaving Butler's army here, always menacing Richmond.

Gen. Beauregard writes from Gadsden, Ala., October 24th, that his headquarters will be at Tuscumbia, Ala.; will get supplies from Corinth to Tuscambia. Forrest has been ordered to report to Gen. Hood, in Middle Tennessee. The railroad iron between Corinth and Memphis will be taken to supply wants elsewhere. Gen. Dick Taylor is to guard communications, etc., has directed Gen. Cheatham to issue an address to the people of Tennessee, saying his and Gen. Forrest's command have entered the State for its redemption, etc., and calling upon the people to aid in destroying the enemy's communications, while the main army is between Atlanta and Chattanooga, when the purpose is to precipitate the whole army upon it, etc. Gen. B. doubts not he will soon be able to announce good tidings, etc. etc. This letter to Gen. Cooper is “submitted to the Secretary of War,” by whom it is "submitted for the information of the President,” and sent back by him—“Read and returned, 4th Nov. '64.-J. D.”

Gen. B. was to leave that day to join Gen. Hood, in vicinity of Guntersville, on Tennessee River. Sherman's army was between Dalton and Gadsden, 15 miles from Gadsden.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 324-5

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: Sunday, November 6, 1864

Bright and frosty.

All quiet below. Another day, and if it remains quiet, we may know that Lincoln will be re-elected.

It is said news came from the North last night, that gold sold for $260, and that Governor Seymour had ordered the militia of New York to be in readiness for the protection of the polls on Tuesday next.

G. W. Randolph, late Secretary of War, has sailed for Europe, taking his family with him. Other quondam Confederate States functionaries have gone, or are going. Many have realized fortunes, who were poor, and this country has ceased to be the one to enjoy them in.

A parting letter was written by Mr. Randolph to his friend, R. G. H. Kean, Chief of the Bureau of War-appointed by Mr. R., and from whom I derived the information of the sailing of his patron. Such departures, at a crisis like this, spread additional doubts in the community. Mr. R. was not liable to conscription, if averse to fighting more in our cause, being exempted by Governor Smith as a member of the Common Council.

To-morrow is the day fixed for the reassembling of our Congress, but doubts are entertained whether there will be a quorum.

We shall soon have lively news from Beauregard. If I understand his letter of the 24th ult., he is determined to march the army without delay into Middle Tennessee, leaving Sherman on his right flank and rear. It is a desperate conception, and will probably be a brilliant success—or a sad disaster. Napoleon liked such games. If Beauregard really bas great genius, he has now the field on which to display it. If the Tennesseeans and Kentuckians rise, momentous events may follow; if not, it is probably the last opportunity they will have. They have their choice—but blood is the price of independence.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 325

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 8, 1864

Wet and warm; all quiet below, and much mud there.

Congress assembled yesterday, and the President's message was read. He recommends the employment of 40,000 slaves in the army, not as soldiers, unless in the last extremity; and after the war he proposes their emancipation. This is supposed to be the idea of Mr. Benjamin, for foreign effect. It is denounced by the Examiner. The message also recommends the abolition of all class exemptions, such as editors, etc. The Examiner denounces this as a blow at the freedom of the press.

The message is cheerful and full of hope, showing that the operations of the year, in the field, have resulted in no disadvantage to us.

By the Northern papers we find that a fleet of four or five cruisers is devastating their commerce. They sailed recently from Wilmington, in spite of Gen. Whiting.

No attack was made on Richmond during the last few days. I have no doubt it was deemed unnecessary by the enemy to secure Mr. Lincoln's re-election. To-day, no doubt, the election in the United States will result in a new lease of presidential life for Mr. Lincoln. If this result should really have been his motive in the conduct of the war, perhaps there may soon be some relaxation of its rigors—and possibly peace, for it is obvious that subjugation is not possible. President Lincoln may afford to break with the Abolition party now, and, as has been often done before, kick down the ladder by which he ascended to power. This is merely speculation, however; he may resolve to wield the whole military strength and resources of the United States with more fury than ever.

But there will henceforth be a dangerous party against him in the rear. The defeated Democrats will throw every obstruction in his path—and they may chock his wheels—or even give him employment for the bayonet at home.

Dispatches from Beauregard and Hood, November 4th, at Tuscumbia, say that Sherman is concentrating at Huntsville and Decatur. Part of our army is at Florence. Gen. B. says his advance has been retarded by bad weather and want of supplies, but that he will march into Tennessee immediately. Gen. Forrest is throwing difficulties in the way of Sherman. The armies are equidistant from Nashville, and if Sherman's supplies fail, his condition becomes desperate.

Captain Manico (acting lieutenant-colonel Departmental Regiment) informs me that the enemy will certainly open batteries in a day or two on our troops at Chaffin's Bluff, and will be replied to vigorously, which he thinks will bring on a battle. We shall hear more thunder, as the distance is only seven or eight miles.

It seems to be clearing up, and there may be news before night. When election news arrives per telegraph from the North—if favorable—it is supposed the enemy will celebrate it by shotted salutes, and thus recommence the slaughter.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 326-7

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 9, 1864

Rained last night; clear this morning, and

All quiet below, except the occasional bombs thrown at the canal by our iron-clads.

The press is mostly opposed to the President's project of employing 40,000 slaves in the army, under promise of emancipation. Some indicate the belief that the President thinks the alternatives are subjugation or abolition, and is preparing the way for the latter.

The Enquirer is averse to conscribing editors between the ages of eighteen and forty-five. The editor says it would be a violation of the Constitution, etc.

We all believe Lincoln has been easily re-elected.

It is supposed Grant will soon receive large accessions from Sheridan's army, and make another attempt to take Richmond. It will be the most formidable attempt, and will be the most formidably resisted.

A row between Gen. Kemper and Gen. Preston: latter refers papers directly to Col. Shields, Gen. K.'s subordinate. Gen. K. asks to be relieved: Secretary Seddon agrees to it, taking sides with the Bureau of Conscription. But the President does not (yet) agree to it, asks investigation of Gen. K.'s complaints, etc.; and so it rests at the present. The Assistant Secretary of War, his son-in-law Lieut.-Col. Lay, etc. etc. are all on the side of the Bureau of Conscription; but I suspect the President is on the other side. My opinion is that unless the Bureau of Conscription be abolished or renovated, our cause will fare badly. The President states his suspicions of "malpractice” in his indorsement.

Much cheering has been heard this morning in the enemy's lines over election news, probably: whether McClellan's or Lincoln's success, no one here knows; but no doubt the latter.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 327-8

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 10, 1864

 Warm; rain and wind (south) all night.

Quiet below. One of the enemy's pickets said to one of ours, last night, that Warren's corps had voted unanimously for McClellan, and that New York City has given a majority of 40,000 for him. This is hardly reliable.

Mr. Foote offered a resolution, yesterday, condemning the President's suggestion that editors be put in the ranks as well as other classes. Now I think the President's suggestion will be adopted, as Mr. Foote is unfortunate in his resolutions. Mr. Barksdale (President's friend) had it easily referred to the Committee on Military Affairs.

Hon. J. A. Gilmer, North Carolina, is applying for many passports through the lines for people in his district. He applies to Judge Campbell.

Coal is selling at $90 per load, twenty-five bushels.

The vote referring Foote's resolution (on the exemption of editors) was passed unanimously, which is regarded as favoring the President's recommendation. Mr. Foote had denounced the President as a despot.

Bought two excellent knit undershirts, to-day, of a woman who gets her supplies from passing soldiers. Being washed, etc., they bore no evidences of having been worn, except two small round holes in the body. Such are the straits to which we are reduced.

I paid $15 each; the price for new ones, of inferior quality, is $50 a piece.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 328-9

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 11, 1864

Clear and pleasant. All quiet. No doubt, from the indications, Lincoln has been re-elected.

Now preparations must be made for the further “conflict of opposing forces." All our physical power must be exerted, else all is lost.

Mr. Sparrow, Louisiana, chairman of the Committee on Military Affairs, introduced a measure, yesterday, in the Senate, which, if consummated, might put all our able-bodied men in the field. It would equalize prices of the necessaries of life, and produce a panic among the speculators. I append it. But, probably, the press will have to be suppressed, “as a war measure,” too, to pass it:

A bill to extend the assessment of prices for the army to all citizens of the Confederate States:

 

Whereas, the depreciation of our currency is, in a great measure, produced by the extortion of those who sell the necessaries of life; and whereas, such depreciation is ruinous to our Confederacy and to the means of prosecuting the war; therefore

 

The Congress of the Confederate States of America do enact, as a necessary war measure, That the prices assessed for the army by the commissioners of assessment shall be the prices established for all citizens of the Confederate States; and that any person who shall charge any price beyond such assessment shall be deemed guilty of a criminal offense, and be subject to a fine not exceeding five thousand dollars and to imprisonment not exceeding one year.

We are now tending rapidly, under fearful exigencies, to the absolutism which, in a republic, alone can summon the full forces into the field. Power must be concentrated, and wielded with promptitude and precision, else we shall fail to achieve our independence. All obstructions in the way of necessary war measures must be speedily removed, or the finances, and the war itself, will speedily come to an ignominious end.

The Secretary recommends, and the President orders, that Gen. Bragg be assigned to the command of North Carolina. The President yields; Bragg is “given up."

The Richmond Enquirer is out, to-day, in an article advocating the employment of 250,000 negroes in our army.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 329-30

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 13, 1864

Rained all night; clear and cool this morning.

The government publishes nothing from Georgia yet; but it is supposed there is intelligence of an important character in the city, which it would be impolitic to communicate to the enemy. .

All still remains quiet below the city. But the curtain is expected to rise on the next act of the tragedy every moment. Gen. Grant probably furloughed many of his men to vote in Pennsylvania and Ohio, on Tuesday last—elections preliminary to the Presidential election—and they have had time to return to their regiments.

If this pause should continue a week or two longer, Gen. Lee would be much strengthened. Every day the farmers, whose details have been revoked, are coming in from the counties; and many of these were in the war in '61 and '62—being experienced veterans. Whereas Grant's recruits, though greater in number, are raw and unskilled.

The Medical Boards have been instructed to put in all men that come before them, capable of bearing arms ten days. One died in the trenches, on the eleventh day, of consumption!

There is a rumor of a fight on our extreme left. It is said Field's division (C. S.) repulsed three assaults of the enemy. If the battle be still continued (4 P.M —the wind from the west prevents us from hearing guns), no doubt it is the beginning of a general engagement-decisive, perhaps, of the fate of Richmond.

We have many accounts of evasions of military service, occasioned by the alleged bad faith of the government, and the despotic orders from the Adjutant-General's office.

And yet Gov. Smith's certificates for exemption of rich young Justices of the Peace, Commissioners of the county) Revenue, Deputy Sheriffs, clerks, constables, officers and clerks of banks, still come in daily; and they are “allowed” by the Assistant Secretary of War. Will the poor and friendless fight their battles, and win their independence for them? It may be so; but let not rulers in future wars follow the example! Nothing but the conviction that they are fighting for their families, their sacred altars, and their little property induces thousands of brave Southerners to remain in arms against such fearful odds as are now arrayed against them.

Mr. Kean, the young Chief of the Bureau of War, has come in from “the front," with a boil on his thigh. He missed the sport of the battle to-day.

Mr. Peck, the agent to purchase supplies for his starving fellow clerks, confesses that he bought 10 barrels of flour and 400 pounds of bacon for himself; 4 barrels of flour for Judge Campbell, Asassistant Secretary of War; 4 barrels for Mr. Kean, 1 for Mr. Cohen, and 1 for Mr. Shepherd. This has produced great indignation among the 200 clerks who sent him, and who got but 73 pounds each, and they got 13 pounds of bacon each; while Mr. P. bought for himself 400 pounds.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 304-6