Louise Wigfall to Francis H. Wigfall, November 14, 1862

November 14, 1862

Mama sends you by Capt. Sellers the buffalo robe and blanket and also a cake of soap, which will be sufficient for present emergencies — and as soon as another occasion offers she will send some more. Mama says as soap is $1.25 a cake you must economise! Capt. Sellers will also take the flag that Mama has had made for the 1st Texas; the tassel on it is one taken by Col. Brewster, from the field of Shiloh, just where Sidney Johnston fell, and of course therefore enhances the value of the flag. We are expecting to leave Richmond next week for Amelia, to return in January when Congress meets. Genl. Johnston reported for duty yesterday and we suppose he will be given command of the Department of the West. They are expecting to leave by Wednesday of next week, so you see there will be a general breaking up of our nice little “Mess.” I am really very sorry; for Mrs. Johnston is a sweet lovely person.  . . . Mama has promised to leave us with her next Summer when she and Papa go back to Texas. There have been several distinguished visitors at our house last week—viz., Prince Polignac; an M. P.; and our Bishop General Polk. Yesterday Major Daniel (Examiner) and Col. Myers dined here. Mrs. Elzey and the General were here evening before last: he is to have another operation performed on his jaw, poor fellow, and he looks miserably.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 91-2

Francis Lieber to Senator Charles Sumner, March 6, 1864

March 6.

When I wrote to you yesterday, in great haste, I omitted mentioning the historic act — the, to me, great symbolic fact — of the presentation of colors to the regiment of blacks in Union Square by our Club. There were drawn up in line over a thousand armed negroes, where but yesterday they were literally hunted down like rats. It was one of the greatest days of our history, — at least, of the history of this city. A few months ago the question was put to us whether a Massachusetts colored regiment might march through New York to embark. It was decided, and justly so, that it could not be done without being prepared for bloodshed. That was shortly before the riots; and now, within half a year, a colored regiment is cheered, and kerchiefs wave from every window. I was deeply, deeply moved. It was for once a visible step forward. . . .

. . . Is the law of Massachusetts, or amendment of the constitution of Massachusetts, giving to soldiers and sailors abroad in war the right of sending home their votes in State elections, separately printed? If so, could I have a copy? I want it for a grave purpose; at least, the writing an addition to that passage in my “Civil Liberty” where I have treated of the voting of armies appears sufficiently grave to me. I have to make this distinction, of which I never thought before: namely, the voting of soldiers as soldiers, that is to say, by companies and battalions, — en bloc, the French way, and which is unconditionally to be condemned, — and the voting of soldiers as citizens sending home their votes to their respective election districts. . . .

SOURCE: Thomas Sergeant Perry, Editor, The Life and Letters of Francis Lieber, p. 342-3

Extracts of Letters Written by Louise Wigfall: April – June 1861

Longwood, near Boston,

April and May and June, 1861.

. . . Isn't the news from Sumter delightful. When I read the account in a paper, I felt like crying for joy. No one sympathizes with me here, except Grandmama, and I feel like a stranger in a foreign land.

Everybody here is groaning, and deploring the taking of Sumter. Uncle B. says that Boston was the scene of great excitement to-day, all the military were getting ready and everyone is on the lookout for war in earnest. . . .

I went into Boston to-day and you never saw such confusion; the State House steps and grounds were crowded with men, some to see, and some to volunteer.

Grandmama had a letter from Mama, written in the midst of the firing of the guns at Sumter. One of Uncle B.'s last puns (you know how fond he is of making them) was the following. “What does the man who robs and catches the Governor of South Carolina get? Poor Pickings.” (Governor Pickens.) I have just returned from seeing a company of Zouaves drill, their manoeuvres were miserable (!) and if this is a specimen of Northern chivalry, I don't think we have much to fear. Everybody here knows who we are, and whenever I go out the people stare and gaze at us. This evening I found little Fanny surrounded by girls, who were questioning and teasing her. She seemed to be perfectly able to maintain her position, and she said, “she gave them as good as they sent;” they all seemed quite amused at her answers, and said they liked to hear her; she talked so “funny.” One of the girls soon after came up to where I stood and said she thought the girls “hadn't ought to tease Fanny.” This is one of their common expressions, and another is that they “admire” to take a walk, or play on the piano. Grandmama and I went into Boston the other day and to my joy I saw a photo of President Davis in one of the windows. I immediately purchased it. The Babcocks are coming to take tea with us this evening, and I anticipate a good deal of pleasure in seeing Emma. She is lovely as ever and I am sure you would like her. We are fast friends and I made her promise she would read Mr. Davis's message, and as a reward I shall give her a very small piece of the flag staff you sent me. She is a very sensible girl and in all our discussions we never get the least excited or vexed. “Abe Lincoln!” is her hero, and “Jeff Davis” is mine; but there is one thing she never can explain, namely, “Abe’s” flight through Baltimore! But we agree in almost everything else. She thinks Napoleon the greatest man that ever lived, and so do I, and that is a never failing source of conversation.

Mrs. Lincoln is now in Boston, and I suppose the Republicans are all flocking to see her, and she is asking them “How they flourish?” Boston is in a whirl of excitement; troops drilling and volunteering all the time — the stores and houses all decked with flags. . . . Dear Papa, won't you send us each a small flag of South Carolina, and the Confederate States? I am very anxious to see them. Yesterday evening Aunt F. got an invitation to attend a meeting of ladies to make shirts, and sew for the different regiments; she, of course, is not going. A poor set of creatures they must be if they can't furnish their own shirts!  . . . Uncle B. has just bought the Sun announcing the secession of Virginia. I feel as if I can't contain myself I am so glad. Poor Uncle B. looks as if he had taken a blue pill — he takes everything so to heart; it is deplorable to see him. Aunt F. is in hopes that all the States will now follow and that will be the means of securing peace.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 57-60

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw Lowell, September 12, 1864

Ripon, Sept. 12, 1864.

I'm expecting to start a new colour for the Brigade this afternoon. The old one, — red, white, and blue, with cross sabres in the white, — is entirely worn out. I shall run up, for the present, a white triangle with dark blue border, and cross sabres in the middle, — this is furnished by Government; but in a week or so I expect from Baltimore a new one of the old pattern. My colour for the old Brigade (3d) was the L Company, Second Massachusetts guidon, red and white silk, with a wreath and a star with L in the centre, — very ambitious forsooth, but the prettiest colour in the army. The others are all of bunting, except General Sheridan's, and perhaps others I have not seen. You’ll wonder at me, being willing to carry anything so “gaudy,” but my well-known modesty enabled me to do it.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 346

Brigadier-General John A. Rawlins to Mary Emeline Hurlburt Rawlins, April 24, 1864

Culpepper C. H., Va., April 24, 1864.

. . . The trees are beginning to put forth their leaves, and the fruit trees their blossoms; the green grass is making its appearance, and real spring is upon us. I rode out for exercise this afternoon and could but contrast the acts of our soldiers in fencing in and caring for the cemetery near here, in which is buried many hundreds of the enemy's dead, with the brutal massacre at Fort Pillow. How full of reverence for Christianity is the contrast in favor of our brave but humane soldiers. The dead and those who are captives with our army cease to be objects against which they war. All that religion demands in reverence of the one, and all that humanity requires in kindness to the other, is freely and willingly given by those who fight for our Democratic institutions beneath the bright banner of stripes and stars.

Enclosed I send you some lines written by Alfred B. Street on the presentation of war banners to the Legislature of New York. I think them decidedly beautiful and hope you will coincide with me in this opinion. I also send you by to-day's mail a late Richmond paper, from which we have the latest news from Plymouth, which is that that place was carried by storm on the 20th by the enemy, with a loss to us of full sixteen hundred men, besides armament, supplies, etc. This place had held out stubbornly, and we were in hopes all would be safe after they had repulsed the first assaults. This comes of the Government persistently urging the holding of places for political effect on the people in the seceding States and abroad, also for the protection of such of the inhabitants as commit themselves to our side. General Butler had asked permission to withdraw the troops from Plymouth some time since, but the reasons urged, as I heard him state to General Grant, were the ones I have just recited. If the force was to stay at Plymouth, then capture will not materially affect us, for they were virtually dead to the service while they remained there, at any rate. I hope that Policy will after a while have discovered that she can only succeed through force of arms, and that force should be made as strong as possible and as compact, and be directed with energy against one point at a time. In this way only can we succeed. . . .

SOURCE: James H. Wilson, The Life of John A. Rawlins, p. 423-4

Wilder Dwight: Wednesday, July 24, 1861

Head-quarters, Harper's Ferry,

Wednesday, July 24, 1861.

If you knew the pleasure I have had to-day in receiving my first letter from you, you would write — write — write. A letter written on Sunday with C.’s charming postscript. Its arrival is the incident of our bloodless campaign. Yet our progress is not without its triumphs. To-day, for instance, we have had another flag presented. The ladies of Harper's Ferry, this evening, assembled on the Square, and our officers, with the band and color-bearer, went out to receive the national color. The flag, during the occupation of the town by Johnston, had been sent off to Frederick City, in Maryland. It was brought back last Saturday, to bo given to the first regiment of Federal troops which brought its protection to the people. The scene and the occasion were striking. One of the ladies made a short speech. The Colonel responded, and the band rang out, “Long may it wave!”

Virginia gives an American flag to Massachusetts, and Massachusetts restores the blessings of that flag to Virginia. I cannot help attaching a good deal of significance to the occasion. I fancy, too, that there are Virginians whose blood will boil with the desire to tear down that flag, which we will certainly carry into action when the time comes.

Since I began to write news has come that General Banks has arrived to take command of this division. We hear from Winchester that there is great mourning and no joy over the battle at Manassas. Their dead are coming home to them in great numbers. If I am not mistaken, it will turn out that, if that senseless panic had not overtaken our troops, a half-hour more would have given them a decided success. These speculations and discussions fill our minds here, for want of something more practical and direct.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 56-7

Wilder Dwight: July 24, 1861

Harper's Ferry, July 24, 1861.

The news from Manassas has filled us with gloom and bitterness. We can only rejoice that we were not misled into such a rout and panic. I cannot tell whose fault it is, or how the explanation may alleviate the disgrace, but it seems to me that the disaster is a most terrible one.  . . . O that we had force and energy to strike again immediately! But we cannot judge here. Yesterday a lot of negro fugitives came in. We are obliged to stop them, though it went against my grain to throw any obstacles in their way. One of them, a fine-looking fellow called Bob, we took as a waiter. He was the slave of Colonel Baylor of the secession army, and I think Colonel Gordon will retain his services until Colonel Baylor returns to his allegiance. A moment ago a man was brought up under guard, and Colonel Gordon ordered him into the office. “Where do you come from?” asked he. “From Charlestown,” said the man, a rather dark-complexioned fellow, with curly hair. “I ran away,” said he, “last night.” “Ran away! from whom?” “From my mistress.” “Are you a slave?” “Yes.' Nothing could have been more unexpected than this reply. The fellow says he has brothers and sisters as white as himself, and all slaves. His father a white man, his mother a yellow woman. The man's features and accent were European. O, this is a beautiful system, in its practical details, — a firm basis for a Christian commonwealth! It is an order of things worth fighting for! Bah!

By our maintenance of good order and discipline, by our protection of the inhabitants of the town against the undisciplined of our own army and against lawless oppression from the Rebels, and by the fact of our being the first regiment to bring back the flag to this town, we have so far won the affection of the townspeople that they propose, this evening, to present us with a flag. We shall accept it, and add it to our bundle of banners. Yesterday afternoon (Tuesday) we had quite a flurry. Orders came to be ready to march at a moment's notice. We packed up speedily, and were just ready to move when an order came that a telegram was received from General Scott telling us to stay where we are. Such is camp life. We do not know what a day will bring forth, literally. I see no immediate prospect of our getting into active military duty; but one cannot tell how the aspect will change before night.

One thing is clear, our column would have met the fate of McDowell's, had it made an attack upon Johnston in position at Winchester. But, on the other hand, had McDowell made his attack when we threatened Johnston at Bunker Hill, perhaps the result would have been different.

One thing is certain, there has been no concert, no union in the movement of the two columns. But what good is there in speculating upon what might have been! I do hope that the government will wake up and put out its power. These rebels mean fight. We must have an army, an armament, — generals and soldiers, if we mean to whip them.  . . . Here's hoping the good time is coming.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 55-6

Wilder Dwight: Monday Morning, July 22, 1861

Harper's Ferry, Monday Morning, July 22, 1861.

War is a game, but you must hold a few cards to play it! Our column, which marched so proudly out of Martinsburg, is now melting away. The time of the regiments expires, and they go. This cripples our movement. Since I wrote you, Colonel Gordon has been in command here. The order under which he came stated, “You will organize the department for a military depot. Your regiment is selected because the general commanding wishes the town ‘placed, from the commencement, in a proper condition of military order and discipline.’ Once so, it can be easily retained.”

I have been very busy organizing the thing, under the Colonel. Just after I last wrote you, I established and posted the town guard, selecting for the guard-house the engine-house within the Arsenal enclosure, which was held by John Brown, and which is one of the few buildings left amid the general wreck. Then arrests were to be made of suspected men, pickets and outposts to be established, &c.

We started a regular post-office, selecting as postmaster a sergeant of Captain Savage's company, who was formerly postmaster of his native town.

Treason and conspiracy are all about us. We had quite a scene at our flag-raising the day after our arrival. The tall flagstaff on the Arsenal grounds had borne the secession rag for weeks. We wished to put our banner there. After several attempts to adjust the halliards, which failed, Sergeant Hill, of Company B, volunteered to climb the tree pole to its top and fasten the rope. This he did, amid the cheers, &c., of the people and soldiers I hope to hear to-day of the fall of Manassas, and then all will be well I am very well and very happy. To be well is a great blessing, for the water and fatigue combined take down a great many stronger men.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 54-5

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: August 1, 1861

Mm. Wigfall, with the “Lone Star” flag in her carriage, called for me. We drove to the fair grounds. Mrs. Davis's landau, with her spanking bays, rolled along in front of us. The fair grounds are as covered with tents, soldiers, etc., as ever. As one regiment moves off to the army, a fresh one from home comes to be mustered in and take its place.

The President, with his aides, dashed by. My husband was riding with him. The President presented the flag to the Texans. Mr. Chesnut came to us for the flag, and bore it aloft to the President. We seemed to come in for part of the glory. We were too far off to hear the speech, but Jeff Davis is very good at that sort of thing, and we were satisfied that it was well done.

Heavens! how that redoubtable Wigfall did rush those poor Texans about! He maneuvered and marched them until I was weary for their sakes. Poor fellows; it was a hot afternoon in August and the thermometer in the nineties. Mr. Davis uncovered to speak. Wigfall replied with his hat on. Is that military?

At the fair grounds to-day, such music, mustering, and marching, such cheering and flying of flags, such firing of guns and all that sort of thing. A gala day it was, with double-distilled Fourth-of-July feeling. In the midst of it all, a messenger came to tell Mrs. Wigfall that a telegram had been received, saying her children were safe across the lines in Gordonsville. That was something to thank God for, without any doubt.

These two little girls came from somewhere in Connecticut, with Mrs. Wigfall's sister — the one who gave me my Bogotsky, the only person in the world, except Susan Rutledge who ever seemed to think I had a soul to save. Now suppose Seward had held Louisa and Fanny as hostages for Louis Wigfall's good behavior; eh?

Excitement number two: that bold brigadier, the Georgia General Toombs, charging about too recklessly, got thrown. His horse dragged him up to the wheels of our carriage. For a moment it was frightful. Down there among the horses' hoofs was a face turned up toward us, purple with rage. His foot was still in the stirrup, and he had not let go the bridle. The horse was prancing over him, tearing and plunging; everybody was hemming him in, and they seemed so slow and awkward about it. We felt it an eternity, looking down at him, and expecting him to be killed before our very faces. However, he soon got it all straight, and, though awfully tousled and tumbled, dusty, rumpled, and flushed, with redder face and wilder hair than ever, he rode off gallantly, having to our admiration bravely remounted the recalcitrant charger.

Now if I were to pick out the best abused one, where all catch it so bountifully, I should say Mr. Commissary-General Northrop was the most “cussed” and villified man in the Confederacy. He is held accountable for everything that goes wrong in the army. He may not be efficient, but having been a classmate and crony of Jeff Davis at West Point, points the moral and adorns the tale. I hear that alluded to oftenest of his many crimes. They say Beauregard writes that his army is upon the verge of starvation. Here every man, woman, and child is ready to hang to the first Lamp-post anybody of whom that army complains. Every Manassas soldier is a hero dear to our patriotic hearts. Put up with any neglect of the heroes of the 21st July — never!

And now they say we did not move on right after the flying foe because we had no provisions, no wagons, no ammunition, etc. Rain, mud, and Northrop. Where were the enemy's supplies that we bragged so of bagging? Echo answers where? Where there is a will there is a way. We stopped to plunder that rich convoy, and somehow, for a day or so, everybody thought the war was over and stopped to rejoice: so it appeared here. All this was our dinner-table talk to-day. Mr. Mason dined with us and Mr. Barnwell sits by me always. The latter reproved me sharply, but Mr. Mason laughed at “this headlong, unreasonable woman's harangue and female tactics and their war-ways.” A freshet in the autumn does not compensate for a drought in the spring. Time and tide wait for no man, and there was a tide in our affairs which might have led to Washington, and we did not take it and lost our fortune this round. Things which nobody could deny.

McClellan virtually supersedes the Titan Scott. Physically General Scott is the largest man I ever saw. Mrs. Scott said, “nobody but his wife could ever know how little he was.” And yet they say, old Winfield Scott could have organized an army for them if they had had patience. They would not give him time.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 96-8

Wilder Dwight to Elizabeth White Dwight, Saturday, July 18, 1861

charlestown, Va., July 18, 1861.

From Bunker Hill to Charlestown may not seem a long way to a Massachusetts man, but in Virginia it is a hard day's work. Our regiment slept on its arms at Bunker Hill Tuesday night. We thought the forward movement was to be on Winchester. A feint was made that way. The enemy had obstructed the main road. We held Johnston's men, expecting attack. By our sudden flank movement we have got him. If McDowell has done rightly by Manassas, we will put Johnston in a tight place. Yesterday we were ready to start at three, A. M. Twenty thousand men move slowly. It took till nine in the evening to get the regiment into position at Charlestown, twelve miles off. We were in the reserve, fifteen hours in the saddle. When the men were drawn up, and had stacked their arms, they fell right down to sleep as they stood. The day was bitterly hot; the march terribly tedious, but glorious. Twenty-five thousand men occupy the town where John Brown was hung. We are the first Massachusetts regiment which has defiantly, and without interruption, stalked through Virginia. In the afternoon we entered a small village on our route. The band played first the Star Spangled Banner, then Hail Columbia, then Yankee Doodle. Our horses arched their necks and moved to the music. The men moved with fresh life and spirit. Our splendid banner, not a star dimmed, flaunted in the faces of the sulky Virginians.

The country is splendid; but, as the hymn-book says, “Only man is vile!” My cook came to me on the route, after vainly endeavoring to forage for our dinner, and said, “I tout Virginny was a perducing country, but I don't see nothin' growin' fit to eat nohow.” The negroes sat on the fences along the route, and wondered. Our march means freedom to them. It means, too, the restoration of the Union line wherever we move. The-American flag sprouts in the furrow of our ploughshare. It is hard work, slow work, new work; but it has its compensations, this military occupation of a country. “Southern blood has been boiling all day,” said a woman standing on the door of a farm-house on our line of march. Just at dusk, as we neared Charlestown, there was a cannonading in front. We threw out skirmishers and drew up the battalion, but have not yet learned the cause of the alarm. This is not a very coherent epistle. It exhibits only an echo of the tone of feeling which animates one on an expedition like ours. You would have wondered to see our jaded men prick up their ears, and stand alive again, when they thought a brush was at hand. The Indiana regiment in our rear yelled like wild Indians. I think Johnston will retire without much of a fight. But here we know nothing except the movements of our own brigade. Half of our force goes out of service tomorrow. This will hamper our movements.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 51-2

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 4, 1861

Russell abuses us in his letters. People here care a great deal for what Russell says, because he represents the London Times, and the Times reflects the sentiment of the English people. How we do cling to the idea of an alliance with England or France! Without France even Washington could not have done it.

We drove to the camp to see the President present a flag to a Maryland regiment. Having lived on the battlefield (Kirkwood), near Camden,¹ we have an immense respect for the Maryland line. When our militia in that fight ran away, Colonel Howard and the Marylanders held their own against Rawdon, Cornwallis, and the rest, and everywhere around are places named for a doughty captain killed in our defense — Kirkwood, De Kalb, etc. The last, however, was a Prussian count. A letter from my husband, written June 22d, has just reached me. He says:

"We are very strongly posted, entrenched, and have now at our command about 15,000 of the best troops in the world. We have besides, two batteries of artillery, a regiment of cavalry, and daily expect a battalion of flying artillery from Richmond. We have sent forward seven regiments of infantry and rifles toward Alexandria. Our outposts have felt the enemy several times, and in every instance the enemy recoils. General Johnston has had several encounters — the advancing columns of the two armies — and with him, too, the enemy, although always superior in numbers, are invariably driven back.

"There is great deficiency in the matter of ammunition. General Johnston's command, in the very face of overwhelming numbers, have only thirty rounds each. If they had been well provided in this respect, they could and would have defeated Cadwallader and Paterson with great ease. I find the opinion prevails throughout the army that there is great imbecility and shameful neglect in the War Department.

"Unless the Republicans fall back, we must soon come together on both lines, and have a decided engagement. But the opinion prevails here that Lincoln's army will not meet us if they can avoid it. They have already fallen back before a slight check from 400 of Johnston's men. They had 700 and were badly beaten. You have no idea how dirty and irksome the camp life is. You would hardly know your best friend in camp guise.''

Noise of drums, tramp of marching regiments all day long; rattling of artillery wagons, bands of music, friends from every quarter coming in. We ought to be miserable and anxious, and yet these are pleasant days. Perhaps we are unnaturally exhilarated and excited.

Heard some people in the drawing-room say: “Mrs. Davis's ladies are not young, are not pretty,” and I am one of them. The truthfulness of the remark did not tend to alleviate its bitterness. We must put Maggie Howell and Mary Hammy in the foreground, as youth and beauty are in request. At least they are young things — bright spots in a somber-tinted picture. The President does not forbid our going, but he is very much averse to it. We are consequently frightened by our own audacity, but we are wilful women, and so we go.

_______________

¹ At Camden in August, 1780, was fought a battle between General Gates and Lord Cornwallis. in which Gates was defeated. In April of the following year near Camden, Lord Rawdon defeated General Greene.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 74-6

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, May 23, 1863

Camp E. Of Capitol, May 23, 1863.

E. wrote me an account of your flag presentation and sent the speeches: I suppose the responsibility of your own speech to follow prevented you from appreciating the Governor's speech as he was delivering it — but, as read, it seems full of feeling and sense, lofty sense and common sense — he is a trump.

Your regiment has proved such an entire success — has given such good promise of taking a very high place among our Massachusetts regiments — that it is easy to forget the circumstances under which you took hold of it: I feel like telling you now, old fellow (as an officer and outsider, and not as your friend and brother), how very manly I thought it of you then to undertake the experiment.

When the First Massachusetts Cavalry were at Hilton Head, they had far less illness (70 or 80 per cent less) than the regiments on the right and left of them. Dr. De Wolf attributes this in great measure to the liberal use of quinine — every morning from May 1st to August 30th every man who chose to come for it at sick-call got a couple of grains of quinine in a drink (quantum sufficit) of whiskey. I believe Mr. Forbes sent down at different times 60 pounds of quinine. I mention this for Dr. Stone's¹ benefit — though probably you and he have already heard it. I do not fancy the blacks will suffer much, but I advise you officers to take whiskey and quinine freely if you are in a malarial region — it is not to be taken beforehand to prepare the system against a time when you may be in an unhealthy camp; but when you go into a malarial camp, commence taking it at once as a specific and direct antidote to the malaria which you are taking.

_______________

¹ Dr. Lincoln Ripley Stone, of Newton, Massachusetts, was the surgeon of the Fifty-Fourth.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 242-3, 418

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: June 18, 1864

Not much sleep and rest for us last night. Pickets kept up a ceaseless firing, with an occasional shell dropping in our midst. Could also hear the trains running into town all night. Beating of drums, pounding and hammering, and much noise. Estimated our lines are formed within three miles of the town. Our regiment holds the extreme left of the line. In the early morning the enemy dropped a shell in our midst. Two of our boys were severely wounded, one having his leg shattered, from which he later died. With us on the left was Captain Snow, with his Maryland Battery, which we had to support. The enemy made two attempts to take the battery. We charged them and drove them back into their earthworks both times. That battery did good service, as we could see, when the shells exploded in their works.

Lieutenant Robert Kerr, Company A, had command of our skirmish line. A cool, brave man in charge of a responsible duty, which he performed well. Our national flag was made fast to the roof of a large barn, in plain view of the enemy. They tried to dislodge it. It afforded us some amusement as we watched them waste their ammunition. Later, when they ceased firing, it was taken down. Our Colonel was wounded in the neck by a piece of shell. While painful, it was not very severe. He left the field, putting us under the command of Major Peale, our Lieutenant-Colonel being a prisoner at Richmond. At this point, on the left of the line, in our rear, was a peach orchard. So severe was the firing of the enemy that hardly a tree escaped the enemy's shells, some being cut down and others had limbs cut off, while many bore marks.

Our regiment, when not called up to protect the battery, was lying down in a road, which afforded us protection. We did lie close to the ground and were protected by a two foot knoll of gravel. At one time the enemy tried to sneak through a ravine to get our battery. We were ordered to charge them. As they fell back we followed them, until we were under a cross fire by our own men and the enemy. Our boys, seeing our colors, ceased firing, as we came to a halt, when orders were given to right face, and forward, by file right, double quick, which soon brought us in our position, just in the rear of the battery. We put in a hard day and were only holding our position, nothing gained. Supplies and ammunition running very low. No prospect of help as far as we could learn, and night coming on.

Orders received that we fall back tonight. We are a sick, tired, discouraged lot of Yankee soldiers. After dark the army began the return march. Our regiment detailed for the rear guard. We cannot leave our position until the army is well under way. Our duty is a very dangerous one.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 79-80

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, July 30, 1861

Harper's Ferry, Va., July 30, 1861.

Our regiment is now left here alone, the whole army having moved across the Potomac together with all our baggage-wagons. We are quartered in some of the least ruined government buildings; our picket guards extend some two miles out into the country around.

There was quite an excitement here the night we first raised the American flag on the staff at the Arsenal. There was a large fragment of the secession flag flying at the head of it when we arrived in town, but it was so securely fastened that it could not be taken down without a person's climbing to the top. As the staff was one hundred and five feet high, this was quite an undertaking. Several tried, but had to give it up. Finally, our First Sergeant secured fresh halyards and raised the Stars and Stripes. Half the town had gathered together in the yard, together with a great part of our regiment. As our flag was run up, the band struck up “Yankee Doodle,” following with the “Star Spangled Banner.” The excitement was, for this latitude, immense.

Those who have been abroad say that this town reminds them strongly of foreign towns by its narrow, dark streets, dirty, steep alley-ways, peculiar stone houses, etc. Our mess chests have been extremely useful to us. Wherever we could get at our wagons, we have used them entirely to get our meals with and to eat from, our servants managing the cooking of chickens, mutton chops, tea, coffee, etc., very well. Our mess consists of Captain Curtis, Captain Mudge, Bob Shaw, Tom Robeson and myself; we have very good times whenever we can all get together, which is not very often, there being so much special service.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 12

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 16, 1861

This day the Spontaneous People's Convention met and organized in Metropolitan Hall. The door-keeper stood with a drawn sword in his hand. But the scene was orderly. The assembly was full, nearly every county being represented, and the members were the representatives of the most ancient and respectable families in the State. David Chalmers, of Halifax County, I believe, was the President, and Willoughby Newton, a life-long Whig, among the Vice-Presidents. P. H. Aylett, a grandson of Patrick Henry, was the first speaker. And his eloquence indicated that the spirit of his ancestor survived in him. But he was for moderation and delay, still hoping that the other Convention would yield to the pressure of public sentiment, and place the State in the attitude now manifestly desired by an overwhelming majority of the people. He was answered by the gallant Capt. Wise, who thrilled every breast with his intrepid bearing and electric bursts of oratory. He advocated action, without reference to the other Convention, as the best means of bringing the Unionists to their senses. And the so-called Demosthenean Seddon, and G. W. Randolph (grandson of Thomas Jefferson), Lieut.-Gov. Montague, James Lyons, Judge Robertson, etc., were there. Never, never did I hear more exalted and effective bursts of oratory. And it was apparent that messages were constantly received from the other Convention. What they were, I did not learn at the moment; but it was evident that the Unionists were shaking in their shoes, and they certainly begged one — just one —  day's delay, which was accorded them. The People's Convention agreed to adjourn till 10 o'clock A.M. the next day. But before we separated a commotion was observed on the stage, and the next moment a Mr. P., from Gov. Wise's old district, rushed forward and announced that he had just arrived from Norfolk, where, under instructions, and with the acquiescence of Gov. Letcher, he had succeeded in blocking the channel of the river; and this would either secure to us, or render useless to the United States, certain ships of the navy, stores, armament, etc., of the value of millions of dollars. This announcement was received with the wildest shouts of joy. Young men threw up their hats, and old men buttoned their coats and clapped their hands most vigorously. It was next hinted by some one who seemed to know something of the matter, that before another day elapsed, Harper's Ferry would fall into the hands of the secessionists.

At night the enthusiasm increases in intensity, and no further opposition is to be apprehended from the influence of Tim Rives, Baldwin, Clemens, etc. etc. It was quite apparent, indeed, that if an ordinance of secession were passed by the new Convention, its validity would be recognized and acted upon by the majority of the people. But this would be a complication of the civil war, now the decree of fate.

Perhaps the occurrence which has attracted most attention is the raising of the Southern flag on the capitol. It was hailed with the most deafening shouts of applause. But at a quiet hour of the night, the governor had it taken down, for the Convention had not yet passed the ordinance of secession. Yet the stars and stripes did not float in its stead; it was replaced by the flag of Virginia

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 20-1

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 15, 1861 - 1st Entry

Great demonstrations made throughout the day, and hundreds of secession flags are flying in all parts of the city. At night, while sitting with Captain O. Jennings Wise in the editorial room of the Enquirer, I learned from the Northern exchange papers, which still came to hand, that my office in Philadelphia, “The Southern Monitor” had been sacked by the mob. It was said ten thousand had visited my office, displaying a rope with which to hang me. Finding their victim had escaped, they vented their fury in sacking the place. I have not ascertained the extent of the injury done; but if they injured the building, it belonged to H. B., a rich Republican. They tore down the signs (it was a corner house east of the Exchange), and split them up, putting the splinters in their hats, and wearing them as trophies. They next visited the mansion of Gen. P., who had made his fortune dealing in cotton, and had been a bold Northern champion of Southern rights. But the general flinched on this trying occasion. He displayed the stars and stripes, and pledged “the boys” to lead them in battle against the secessionists.

During the evening, a procession with banners and torch-lights came up the street and paused before the Enquirer office. They called for Captain Wise, and I accompanied him to the iron balcony, where he made them a soul-stirring speech. At its conclusion, he seized me by the arm and introduced me to the crowd. He informed them of the recent proceedings in Philadelphia, etc., and then ceased speaking, leaving me to tell my own story to the listening multitude. That was not my fault; I had never attempted to make a public speech in my life; and I felt that I was in a predicament. Wise knew it, and enjoyed my embarrassment. I contrived, however, to say to the people that the time for speaking had gone by, and there was no time left for listening. They proceeded up the street, growing like a snow-ball as they rolled onward. At every corner there were cheers uttered for Davis, and groans for Lincoln.

Upon returning to my boarding-house (the hotel being found too expensive), kept by Mrs. Samuels, and her sister, Miss Long, I found the ladies making secession flags. Indeed, the ladies everywhere seem imbued with the spirit of patriotism, and never fail to exert their influence in behalf of Southern independence.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p.18-9

George William Curtis to Charles Eliot Norton, September 25, 1862

North Shore, 25th September, '62.

My Dear Charles, — I hoped to hear from you, for I knew you would say what I felt.

Coming at this moment, when we were in the gravest peril from Northern treachery, the proclamation clears the air like a northwest wind. We know now exactly where we are. There are now none but slavery and anti-slavery men in the country. The fence is knocked over, and straddling is impossible.

Now, if my friends nominate me for Congress, I shall accept. Success I should like, but I don't count upon it. I should stump the district and sow the seed.

When I think of Wilder Dwight and the brave victims, my joy is very sober. How the country will be filled with mourning as our victory goes on! For victory it must be now. We heard of Bob¹ through Dr. Stone. They were both in the thick of the fight and escaped unhurt. You saw the account of our brave Joe. Think of the service these soldiers of less than two years have seen! I saw a banner of Sickles's brigade. It has been in ten battles!

_______________

¹ Robert Gould Shaw.

SOURCE: Edward Cary, George William Curtis, p. 158-9

Theodore Winthop to L., May 31st, 1861 – 10 p.m.

Fortress Monroe, May 31st, 1861.

Dear L., — Thanks for your kind letter and the hamper. I saw Gen. Butler at Washington. He invited me here when the Seventh should return, and here am I, acting as his Military Sec'y pro tem. He will find me something to do. He is a character, and really was the man who saved Washington by devising the march to Annapolis — a place which nobody had ever heard of.

By Liberty! but it is worth something to be here at this moment, in the center of the center! Here we scheme the schemes! Here we take the secession flags, the arms, the prisoners! Here we liberate the slaves — virtually. I write at ten P. M. We have just had a long examination of a pompous Virginian, secessionist and slave owner, who came under safe conduct to demand back his twenty niggers who had run over to us. Half of his slaves he had smuggled over to Alabama for sale a week ago. But he was not lively enough with the second score. He said, with a curious mock pathos — “One boy, sir, staid behind, sir, and I said to him, John, they're all gone, John, and you can go if you like; I can't hold you. No, master, says John, I'll stay by you, master, till I die! But, sir, in the morning John was gone, and he'd taken my best horse with him! Now, Colonel,” said the old chap, half pleading and half demanding, “I'm an invalid, and you have got two of my boys, young boys, sir, not over twelve — no use to you except perhaps to black a gentleman's boots. I would like them very much, sir, if you would spare them. In fact, Colonel, sir, I ought to have my property back.”

It would have done Gay's heart good to have heard what Gen. Butler said, when this customer was dismissed. Then we had an earnest, simple fellow, black as the ace of spades, with whites of eyes like holes in his head, and sunshine seen through; who had run away from the batteries at Yorktown, and came to tell what they were doing there. It is prime, and growing primer all the time. I wish I could write more, but I am at hard work most of the day. In the afternoon I ride about, and the sentries present arms, though I am still in my uniform of a private. I left Billy in Washington. It broke my heart to leave the boy, but I shall work with him again. Dearest love to all in the house and region,

Yours,

T. W.

SOURCE: Laura Winthrop Johnson, Editor, The Life and Poems of Theodore Winthrop, p. 288-90

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, July 24, 1861

July 24, Wednesday.

A moment after I stopped writing, I was busy ordering tents struck, wagons packed, and everything got ready for a start. We were almost prepared to move, when General Patterson got a dispatch from General Scott ordering him to stay where he was; so unpack wagons, pitch tents, was the order. We were generally glad of it, as it would have looked as if it were a regular runaway, and we haven't got over feeling sore at not getting to Winchester and giving General Johnston a try.

My story left off at Charlestown, where we were last Thursday. About noon, our regiment received orders to march at half-past three P. M., on detached service. Everything was moving at the appointed time. We marched out in good spirits, but with empty stomachs. After traveling about a mile, we were informed that we were going to Harper's Ferry to hold the place. I was assigned the honorable command of the rear guard. We had a very pleasant march of eight miles through some of the finest scenery I ever saw. We met with quite a reception in the town; men, women and children cheering us, waving flags, and evidently overjoyed to see United States troops again. We camped on a high bluff just over the Potomac, and proceeded to put the town in a state of martial law, taking several leading secessionists prisoners. Here we got plenty to eat; my first purchase was a gallon of milk; Captain Curtis and myself drank the whole of it before we lay down for the night. The next day we had a good rest. Captain Curtis picked up, during the day, information of a party of troopers that were camped over the other side of the Shenandoah, and obtained permission to take me and forty men and find them, if we could, that night. We called our men out at twelve and started. It was very dark, and there was a severe thunderstorm. We were ferried across the Shenandoah, and scouted all over the mountains, visiting every farm-house and barn, but we found we were just too late, as they had left, suspecting our approach. We got back to camp at eight or nine o'clock, wet and tired, having traveled some ten miles over the roughest possible roads.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 9-10

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, July 23, 1861

Harper's Ferry, Va., July 23, 1861.

Since my letter from Martinsburg, I have hardly had time to take a pen in my hand, we have been so busy.

We left Martinsburg at the time when we were ordered, and took up our position in the column and commenced our march towards “Bunker Hill,” where about six thousand of the rebels were encamped six or seven miles from Martinsburg. It was a sight I never shall forget, to see this great army, covering the roads for miles in each direction, with colors flying and bands playing in nearly every regiment; then, after marching about two hours, to hear cannon firing at the head of the column, telling us plainly that we had come up with some part of the enemy. The firing soon stopped, however, and we learned, in a short time, that the rebels were flying in confusion, and that we had killed two and taken several men and horses prisoners.

Before long, we came up to their camps, and it was a singular sight to see them all deserted while the fires were burning and everything in readiness for dinner. We marched on till near night, when our regiment camped in a beautiful grove on the so-called “Bunker Hill.” We lay down on the ground that night, as our wagons hadn't come up. However, we were undisturbed and got a good night's rest. The next day, the whole army was allowed to rest, which was needed very much; the only thing that troubled us officers was, that we could get nothing to speak of to eat; we fairly envied the soldiers as they ate their rations. The only way we got along was by begging some coffee and hard bread of the men. At night came the order to have everything ready to start at a moment's notice, and to see that every man was supplied with forty rounds of cartridges and caps. Soon after, Colonel Gordon sent for us to say that, in all probability, we were to move on and attack General Johnston and his army of about twenty-six thousand men, in a very few hours.

The men slept with their rifles In their hands, and we with our swords buckled on, but we were not roused until three o'clock, when “reveille” was sounded in the various camps and, in a short time, we were marching again; but, to our surprise and, I must say, disappointment, we found that we were making what is called a flank movement instead of an advance. Towards afternoon, our line was threatened by cavalry; our company was ordered out by Brigadier-General Abercrombie to act as skirmishers. The enemy, however, kept out of the way, and we soon returned to our position in column. About dark, we halted by the side of a wheat field, and the men were allowed to stack arms and rest, which they needed very much. Captain Curtis and I had just got fast asleep for the night on a pile of wheat, when I was aroused by the Sergeant-Major to be told that I must get ready to go on guard immediately; very disagreeable, of course, but no help for it, so I got up and reported myself for duty. The Colonel came around before long to caution me about being especially vigilant, as there was a strong chance of an attack. I don't know how I should have got through the night if Major Dwight had not, with his own hands, brought me out some hard-boiled eggs and bread and butter. I devoured them as if I had never eaten anything before. I managed, afterwards, to get some coffee, so I was all right.

The news of our defeat at Bull Run has evidently shaken our General. We are ordered to get ready to move at a moment's notice.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 7-9