Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 23, 1863

The Northern papers are filled with what purports to be the intercepted correspondence of Mr. Benjamin with Messrs. Mason and Slidell. Lord John Russell is berated. The Emperor of France is charged with a design to seize Mexico as a colony, and to recognize Texas separately, making that State in effect a dependency, from which cotton may be procured as an offset to British India. He says the French Consuls in Texas are endeavoring to detach Texas from the Confederacy. If this be a genuine correspondence, it will injure the South; if it be false (if the allegations be false), it will still injure us. I have no doubt of its genuineness; and that Mr. Sanders, once the correspondent of the New York Tribune, was the bearer. If Texas leaves us, so may Louisiana — and the gigantic Houmas speculation may turn out well at last.

Mr. Curry has brought forward a copyright bill; Mr. Foster, of Alabama, has introduced a bill to abolish the passport system — leaving the matter to railroad conductors.

A dispatch from Gen. Bragg assures us that our cavalry are still capturing and destroying large amounts of Rosecrans's stores on the Cumberland River.

Col. Wall has been elected Senator from New Jersey. They say he is still pale and ill from his imprisonment, for opinion sake. I hope he will speak as boldly in the Senate as out of it.

I met Gen. Davis to-day (the President's nephew), just from Goldsborough, where his brigade is stationed. He is in fine plumage — and I hope he will prove a game-cock.

Major-Gen. French, in command at Petersburg, is a Northern man. Our native generals are brigadiers. It is amazing that all the superior officers in command near the capital should be Northern men. Can this be the influence of Gen. Cooper? It may prove disastrous!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 244-5

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: December 22, 1862

We shall never arrive at the correct amount of casualties at the battle of Fredericksburg. The Enquirer today indicates that our loss in killed, wounded, and missing (prisoners), amounted to nearly 4000. On the other hand, some of the Federal journals hint that their loss was 25,000. Gen. Armstrong (Confederate), it is said, counted 3500 of their dead on the field; and this was after many were buried. There are five wounded to one killed. But where Burnside is now, or what he will attempt next, no doubt Lee knows; but the rest of our people are profoundly ignorant in relation thereto. The New York Herald says: “The finest and best appointed army the world ever saw, has been beaten by a batch of Southern ragamuffins!” And it advises that the shattered remains of the army be put into winter quarters.

The weather has greatly moderated. I hope, now, it will continue moderate!

Mr. Crenshaw, who has the gigantic flour contract with the War Department, effected with Mr. Randolph, has just (in the President's absence) made another contract with Mr. Seddon. The department becomes a partner with him, and another party in England, in a huge commercial transaction, the object of which is to run goods in, and cotton out. We shall have our Girards, as well as the United States. Mr. Crenshaw proceeds to England immediately, bearing letters of credit to Mr. Mason, our Minister, etc.

An immense sum is to be sent West to pay for stores, etc., and Mr. Benjamin recommends the financial agent to the department. The illicit trade with the United States has depleted the country of gold, and placed us at the feet of the Jew extortioners. It still goes on. Mr. Seddon has granted passports to two agents of a Mr. Baumgartien — and how many others I know not. These Jews have the adroitness to carry their points. They have injured the cause more than the armies of Lincoln. Well, if we gain our independence, instead of being the vassals of the Yankees, we shall find all our wealth in the hands of the Jews.

The accounts from North Carolina are still conflicting. It is said the enemy have retired to Newbern; but still we have no letters beyond Goldsborough. From Raleigh we learn that the legislature have postponed the army bill until the 20th of January.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 220-1

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Tuesday, June 23, 1863

Lawley and I went to inspect the site of Mr Mason's (the Southern Commissioner in London) once pretty house — a melancholy scene. It had been charmingly situated near the outskirts of the town, and by all accounts must have been a delightful little place. When Lawley saw it seven months ago, it was then only a ruin; but since that time Northern vengeance (as directed by General Milroy) has satiated itself by destroying almost the very foundations of the house of this arch-traitor, as they call him. Literally not one stone remains standing upon another; and the debris seems to have been carted away, for there is now a big hole where the principal part of the house stood. Troops have evidently been encamped upon the ground, which was strewed with fragments of Yankee clothing, accoutrements, &c.

I understand that Winchester used to be a most agreeable little town, and its society extremely pleasant. Many of its houses are now destroyed or converted into hospitals; the rest look miserable and dilapidated. Its female inhabitants (for the able-bodied males are all absent in the army) are familiar with the bloody realities of war. As many as 5000 wounded have been accommodated here at one time. All the ladies are accustomed to the bursting of shells and the sight of fighting, and all are turned into hospital nurses or cooks.

From the utter impossibility of procuring corn, I was forced to take the horses out grazing a mile beyond the town for four hours in the morning and two in the afternoon. As one mustn't lose sight of them for a moment, this occupied me all day, while Lawley wrote in the house. In the evening we went to visit two wounded officers in Mrs ——'s house, a major and a captain in the Louisianian Brigade which stormed the forts last Sunday week. I am afraid the captain will die. Both are shot through the body, but are cheery. They served under Stonewall Jackson until his death, and they venerate his name, though they both agree that he has got an efficient successor in Ewell, his former companion in arms; and they confirmed a great deal of what General Johnston had told me as to Jackson having been so much indebted to Ewell for several of his victories. They gave us an animated account of the spirits and feeling of the army. At no period of the war, they say, have the men been so well equipped, so well clothed, so eager for a fight, or so confident of success — a very different state of affairs from that which characterised the Maryland invasion of last year, when half of the army were barefooted stragglers, and many of the remainder unwilling and reluctant to cross the Potomac.

Miss —— told me to-day that dancing and horseracing are forbidden by the Episcopal Church in this part of Virginia.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 234-6

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Monday, June 1, 1863

We all went to a review of General Liddell's brigade at Bellbuckle, a distance of six miles. There were three carriages full of ladies, and I rode an excellent horse, the gift of General John Morgan to General Hardee. The weather and the scenery were delightful. General Hardee asked me particularly whether Mr Mason had been kindly received in England. I replied that I thought he had, by private individuals. I have often found the Southerners rather touchy on this point.

General Liddell's brigade was composed of Arkansas troops — five very weak regiments which had suffered severely in the different battles, and they cannot be easily recruited on account of the blockade of the Mississippi The men were good-sized, healthy, and well clothed, but without any attempt at uniformity in colour or cut; but nearly all were dressed either in grey or brown coats and felt hats. I was told that even if a regiment was clothed in proper uniform by the Government, it would become parti-coloured again in a week, as the soldiers preferred wearing the coarse homespun jackets and trousers made by their mothers and sisters at home. The Generals very wisely allow them to please themselves in this respect, and insist only upon their arms and accoutrements being kept in proper order. Most of the officers were dressed in uniform which is neat and serviceable — viz., a bluish-grey frock-coat of a colour similar to Austrian yagers. The infantry wear blue facings, the artillery red, the doctors black, the staff white, and the cavalry yellow; so it is impossible to mistake the branch of the service to which an officer belongs — nor is it possible to mistake his rank. A second lieutenant, first lieutenant, and captain, wear respectively one, two, and three bars on the collar. A major, lieutenant-colonel, and colonel, wear one, two, and three stars on the collar.

Before the marching past of the brigade, many of the soldiers had taken off their coats and marched past the General in their shirt-sleeves, on account of the warmth. Most of them were armed with Enfield rifles captured from the enemy. Many, however, had lost or thrown away their bayonets, which they don't appear to value properly, as they assert that they have never met any Yankees who would wait for that weapon. I expressed a desire to see them form square, but it appeared they were “not drilled to such a manoeuvre” (except square two deep). They said the country did not admit of cavalry charges, even if the Yankee cavalry had stomach to attempt it.

Each regiment carried a “battle-flag,” blue, with a white border, on which were inscribed the names “Belmont,” “Shiloh,” “Perryville,” “Richmond, Ky,” and “Murfreesborough.” They drilled tolerably well, and an advance in line was remarkably good; but General Liddell had invented several dodges of his own, for which he was reproved by General Hardee.

The review being over, the troops were harangued by Bishop Elliott in an excellent address, partly religious, partly patriotic. He was followed by a congress man of vulgar appearance, named Hanley, from Arkansas, who delivered himself of a long and uninteresting political oration, and ended by announcing himself as a candidate for re-election. This speech seemed to me (and to others) particularly ill-timed, out of place, and ridiculous, addressed as it was to soldiers in front of the enemy. But this was one of the results of universal suffrage. The soldiers afterwards wanted General Hardee to say something, but he declined. I imagine that the discipline in this army is the strictest in the Confederacy, and that the men are much better marchers than those I saw in Mississippi.

A soldier was shot in Wartrace this afternoon. We heard the volley just as we left in the cars for Shelbyville. His crime was desertion to the enemy; and as the prisoner's brigade was at Tullahoma (twenty miles off), he was executed without ceremony by the Provost guard. Spies are hung every now and then; but General Bragg told me it was almost impossible for either side to stop the practice.

Bishop Elliott, Dr Quintard, and myself got back to General Polk's quarters at 5 P.M., where I was introduced to a Colonel Styles, who was formerly United States minister at Vienna. In the evening I made the acquaintance of General Wheeler, Van Dorn's successor in the command of the cavalry of this army, which is over 24,000 strong. He is a very little man, only twenty-six years of age, and was dressed in a coat much too big for him. He made his reputation by protecting the retreat of the army through Kentucky last year. He was a graduate of West Point, and seems a remarkably zealous officer, besides being very modest and unassuming in his manners.

General Polk told me that, notwithstanding the departure of Breckenridge, this army is now much stronger than it was at the time of the battle of Murfreesborough. I think that probably 45,000 infantry and artillery could be brought together immediately for a battle.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 155-9

Major Wilder Dwight to William Dwight Sr., December 29, 1861

camp Hicks, Near Frederick, December 29, 1861.

Dear Father, — I wish you a happy and prosperous New Year, and I wish that I could hope to do something to help make it so. But, out here in my frontier helplessness, I can only receive favors, not do them.

It will, I trust, be a happy day for all of us when the regiment has lived its life and done its work, and can return in peace. Such is my dream, though it seems distant.

I have just read the capitulation and surrender of Mason and Slidell. Seward's letter is masterly, his conclusion dignified and perhaps just. His forbearance to hold on to them because they are not worth it is a stroke. On the whole, I am well pleased. What do you think of it?

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 183

Major Wilder Dwight: Sunday, December 23, 1861

Camp Hicks, December 23, 1861.

Dear D——, — I do assure you that your Christmas remembrance has warmed and cheered and brightened this sombre morning in camp. Our wooded camp had been hail-rattled and rain-rattled all night. The half-broke morning was dull with falling snows. The ice-crowned trees bowed their heads and bent their branches, winter-laden. A moaning wind chimed to the ear the sad tones whose corresponding hues darkened the eye. But just as your gift arrived the sun broke, also the clouds. Sun-lightened was the air, and sun-lightened, also, was my spirit. I rejoiced in home memories and associations. And now, the day really is a good day. I expect many empty hours in camp this winter, and hope to fill some of the pleasantest of them with Napier. Unless something more serious than the present threatenings indicate should occur at Falling Waters, we shall probably pass a quiet winter in our present favorable camp. The division is placed here because of the abundant forage of this county and the direct rail communication. I am quite a convert to the wisdom and necessity of taking good care of our army, and saving it up for spring. Events are favoring us rapidly now of their own accord.

The English question does not yet take shape enough to enable one to judge of it. I have no fear of a war with England. The cause is inadequate. The right of search and seizure is one that I hope we shall exercise sparingly. The game is not worth the candle. Still, I enjoy the joke of the seizure of Slidell and Mason, and am curious to see the ground of England's vigorous protest. England is base and mean in her treatment of us; and if we were only stronger, I should enjoy a war with her. As it is, I suppose we must wait, like Dr. Winship, till we have trained a couple of years, and then, perhaps, we shall be up to a fight with her.

It really seems, this evening, as if winter, Northern winter, had come. If he visits Manassas as he does Frederick, how the Rebels must be shivering in their shoes, if, indeed, they have any shoes to shiver in.

Howard's position I rejoice in. I quite believe that he will rise in his regiment and see service. I repeat my thanks, and wish you Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 179-80

Major Wilder Dwight: Saturday Evening, November 23, 1861

Head-quarters Second Massachusetts Regiment,

Camp near Seneca, Nov. 23, 1861, Saturday Evening.

Yours of the 19th is in my pocket. The evening has passed pleasantly under its influence. The camp is fast falling asleep.

I last wrote you just after dinner on Thanksgiving day. The rest of the day went glibly enough. In the evening the men had a brisk dance to the music of the band, and the next morning there were fewer sick men than for two weeks before. Gladness and gayety are good medicines. Friday was a very busy day with me. Among its morning incidents was a visit to Generals Hamilton and Williams. General Williams quite won my affection by saying, apropos of the review, “The Massachusetts Second is the best volunteer regiment in the service.” “A man of sense,” was my echo. Our two new lieutenants, Grafton and Shelton, appeared yesterday, and were assigned to duty the next day. They were eager for duty, and promise well. Give Charley the stockings for his men by all means. I rejoice in his effort and success. I am amused to see that the London Times compares Ball's Bluff to Braddock's defeat. That was my first exclamation. A regular Braddock's defeat! Who was the Braddock? . . . .

I do not expect to come home at all. While there is anything to do here, I certainly shall not come. Indeed, I do not think I desire it. Three years or the war, was my enlistment; and I am willing to stay with my regiment while it lasts. . . . .

This morning's inspection took about two hours. It was a thorough one and satisfactory. We have church this afternoon, unless it rains, as it threatens to do.

For one, I have no sympathy with the prisoners at Fort Warren. I desire that all benevolence and sympathy may flow to our loyal soldiers, whose hardship is quite as great. As for Mason and Slidell, the joke is so good, so practical, so retributive. I admire the calm irony with which Mr. Everett wishes them a short residence at Fort Warren. That is clever and bright, and politely severe

I predicted church when I was writing this morning. Lo it is evening, and the ground white with snow! So winter steals upon us, and we have a snow-storm instead of divine service. Well, camp life has its variety, and is not always same. I confess, as I look out through the flapping door of my tent, I think it looks as little like invading the South as any scene I ever looked on. White and heavy falls the snow, — I hope on the unjust as well as the just, on both sides the Potomac! Now's the time for mittens with no holes in the thumbs I have quite a long letter from ——. She is full of the glory and spectacle aspect of the army and the war, her visit to Washington having taught her all about armies. I could give her a few practical lessons that would unidealize her abruptly. Never mind, to be illusionée is to be happy.

I hope, in view of the dread you express of my going to Charleston, where they fight “without giving quarter,” you will be pleased at the imminent prospect there seems to be that we shall be snowed into Maryland till spring. However, the weather is so fickle, we may have bright sunshine to-morrow.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 155-7

Major Wilder Dwight: November 19, 1861

Camp Near Seneca, November 19, 1861.

By every rule of gratitude, after receiving father's long and cheerful letter this morning, this letter should be written to him. But, as the countryman said of his wife, that what was her'n was his'n, and what was his'n was his own, so I fancy I shall talk as freely to both, though I write to only one. Did I not get a letter off on Sunday? I think so. That was a day of bright-blue cold. I gave up church because I had not the heart to keep the men even in a devout shiver for an hour. Yesterday I got a little pull back again. I had fully made up my mind to be perfectly well, so it shook my confidence a trifle. I had to keep busy in order to regain it. The day looked rather gloomy. The Adjutant was taken sick, and the Sergeant-Major. So I had to detail raw hands. Three captains were on their backs. The infernal malaria seemed to have wilted every one. Drills were dull, and the hospital over busy. There was a general cheerlessness overhanging every one.

Just at this moment what does the perverse generalship of our inapposite brigadier but send me an order: “There will be a review and inspection of this brigade in the large field hitherto known as a division review-ground near Darnestown.” There was hopelessness. Colonel and Lieutenant-Colonel both away; Adjutant and half the captains off duty; myself just between wind and water; every one dumpish. It never rains without pouring. The band leader and the drum-major reported themselves sick at parade. Whew-w-w-w-w! I think it all had a tonic and astringent effect on me. ––– sympathized with me in my efforts to repair disasters in season for a grand review. I told her that, though things didn't look very bright, yet I had always noticed one thing, a dark morning kept growing better, and I was going to get up with that faith. I made my arrangements busily last evening.

This morning was jolly cold. I was busy about all the little formalities and precisions which belong to such occasions, settling them with the various officers to whom the duties belonged. The Acting Adjutant had a little delay which bothered me, but at about ten o'clock the line was formed, — the men all in overcoats, — with full equipment. The morning had mellowed into Indian-summer. After all, the Massachusetts Second did look finely. We marched off briskly to Darnestown, about a mile and a half. The regiment arrived at the large field a few moments late, — the fault of a green adjutant. No great matter, but an annoyance. The rest of the brigade was in line, — my place was on the right. I formed the regiment a little in rear of the line, then rode up to General Abercrombie, who said he wished the whole brigade line changed. This gave me a chance to move our regiment right out in line of battle. I advanced them, and they moved with excellent precision, keeping their line exactly. It was a refreshing turn. The regiment saluted, and then marched round in review, passing round the whole field, and saluting the General, who was at the centre, opposite the front of our line. The regiment marched well, — the distances all well kept, — and wheeled into line again finely. So far, well. Then an inspection, which is a tedious process. The General noticed, what is certainly true, that the men looked peaked, dwindled, pined. But their soldierly appearance was undeniable. As if to cap the climax of our day's work, the General turns to me and says, “Put the battalion through a short drill, and then you can take them home.” I might have mentioned that I rose this morning pretty well except a raging headache, and, on the whole, felt brisk. I did not much feel like shouting through a battalion-drill, however. Still, I did it. We did it pretty well, too, on the whole. Shall I tell you what we did? You will understand it exactly. The battalion, as formed for inspection, was in open column of companies, right in front. I first threw them forward into line, which went well, then double-columned on the centre, countermarched and deployed, then repeated that movement at a double-quick, then broke the line to the left, and wheeled again to the right into line, then broke to the right by companies, closed in mass and formed divisions, then column forward and round by two wheels, closed in mass to their old front, then halted and deployed column on the first division at a double-quick, bringing them on their original line. Then, after a rest, broke by right of companies to the rear, and so marched home, having weathered the day. Now, isn't that a lucid story? Don't you like it? It's just what I did, anyway, and isn't a bad drill for the inexperience of a headachy major. I got home soon after two, having had a hard day for a regiment so much pulled down as ours. I put in several good words for us with the Brigadier, and I am in hopes to whiskey and quinine, or, better still, to transport our regiment into its old health and vigor. But certain it is, that hard work, exposure, and Potomac damp have wrought their perfect work, and we “need a change,” as the saying is. Besides, there is this constant picket duty on the river, watching through damp nights for enemies that haven't a purpose of coming. It is the hardest kind of duty, and the most useless, or rather the least obviously useful, and the least exhilarating. I was reading, this morning, an order from head-quarters about “amputations.” “Pshaw !” I exclaimed, to the edification of our surgeon. “If they want to be practically useful, let them pronounce about diarrhoea and chills: there are no amputations in civil war.” With such dismal pleasantries we relieve the depression of our sinking spirits. But I have the pleasure to know, or to feel sure, that we are only harvesting now the crop of an early sowing, and that things grow better. I am very well again this evening. Colonel Andrews now grows obviously better. The Adjutant will go to a house to-morrow for two or three days' rest, and I am inclined to hope that things have just got to their worst with us.

Perhaps I am giving you an over-dark view. Don't let your imagination run away with it. We are only debilitated, that's all. Nothing dangerous, but annoying. I am only thankful that I am so well, and only troubled that there is so little I can do for the regiment.

Send us your warm clothes as fast as they are ready in respectable quantities

Tell father I join in his hurrahs, except that I caution him to wait for exploit and achievement before he congratulates his boys, or canonizes their mother on their account. It is very humdrum duty they are doing now. It asks only willingness and endeavor, — a good, earnest disposition. If it shall turn out that they can have strength for better things by and by, sha'n't I be glad! To-day I am only tranquil and hopeful. Our Thanksgiving day will be a great success. I fancy nearly a hundred turkeys: a great many geese and chickens will smoke on our mess-pans! Then the plum-puddings! Already the cooks are rehearsing that delicacy in many forms, in anticipation of the grand and decisive movement on Thursday. I think that thankfulness of heart and generosity of good cheer will so exalt and inspirit the regiment that we shall know no more depression or invalidism. At all events, the preparation has a wholesome cheerfulness in it. General Abercrombie to-day said, “No winter-quarters.” This was direct from McClellan. He also intimated that we may go South. That rumor seems to gather and not fade, as most do. It has life in it still, and perhaps it may bring itself to pass pretty soon.

I am making a long story of my short experiences; but it is pleasant to write, and, but for a little consideration left for you, I might write on for an hour. As it is, I will write an affectionate good-night, and go to bed. Before I go, don't let me forget to admonish you to tell Mr. ––– that those drawers are as warm as the love of woman, and as constant as the love of man. Tell him they are my hope and faith in this great November tribulation. I will recollect him Thanksgiving day.

We have a bright Wednesday morning. I find a chance to send this by Lieutenant Choate, who goes home on a short “sick-leave,” so I must' close up promptly. What a joke the capture of Mason and Slidell is! There is fun in it. Whether there is, also, international law, or not, I don't know. The luck seems really to have turned lately, and to be going against rebels and traitors. I was very much pleased to read Howard's letter. It looks as if he were where he would have a good chance to make a soldier, and to be an active one too. What an oddity this whole life seems to me every now and then, when I think of it. Changes and chances are very rapid. Verily, to be an American is to be everything by turns, and nothing long.

Speaking of “nothing long,” what do you think of this letter? The camp looks white and frosty from my tent, as I look out this morning. I think I will go to breakfast and warm up a little. As to my health, it seems firm again to-day, and I have every reason for content. Love to all at home.

P. S. — I have reason to believe that the General was quite well pleased with the review. That is a comfort, under the circumstances.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 148-52

Major-General John A. Dix to Secretary William H. Seward, November 16, 1861

Unofficial.

November 16, 1861

Dr. Coxe, one of the most distinguished of the Episcopal clergy in this city, is a strong Union man. His congregation are the reverse. President Lincoln's Fast-day was scarcely observed. There were from one to two hundred persons in church. Yesterday (Jefferson Davis's Fast-day) it was crowded to overflowing. The attendance is but one manifestation among many of the bitter feeling of the Secessionists here. These people must be held by a hand as inflexible as iron. They are not to be conciliated. I speak of the principal portion of the wealthy classes. They are still as absurd in their confidence in the success of the Confederate cause as they are disloyal to their own government. The least advantage gained over us elates them ridiculously. I am satisfied that no act of clemency on the part of the Government will make any impression on them; and certainly, while they are making daily demonstrations of hostility, they deserve none.

I feel it my duty to say to you that, notwithstanding the overwhelming vote this State has just given, its quietude depends on prudent management and on the ability of the Government to keep the Confederate forces at a distance. The Union men are, for the most part, the quiet, industrious portions of the people. The Secessionists, on the other hand, are composed of the more active portions, sustained by a large majority of the wealthy and aristocratic citizens of Baltimore (most of whom are connected with the South by marriage and pecuniary interests) and the broken-down politicians, merchants, and spendthrifts, who hope to repair their fortunes by a change of government. The leaders are bold, fierce, and implacable; and if our forces were to be withdrawn from the fortification on Federal Hill, pointing its guns from the heart of the city into every ward and almost every street, and a successful demonstration should be made by the Confederate army on the Potomac, the State and the city would be thrown into commotion by the intrigues of these men. With the strong hand of the Government upon them they cannot conceal their enmity to it. On ’Change to-day, when the news of the capture of Messrs. Slidell and Mason on board a British mail-steamer was announced, they were jubilant with the hope that it would lead to a rupture with Great Britain, and that she would be thrown into the scale of the Confederates. While such a feeling exists, notwithstanding our recent successes, our hold on them cannot be safely relaxed.

I do not make this letter an official one. But I desire that the President and his Cabinet and Major-general McClellan should know what view I take of the existing status of Secessionism in this city.*

_______________

* See Appendix VI.

SOURCE: Morgan Dix, Memoirs of John Adams Dix, Volume 2, p. 34-5

Francis Lieber to Senator Charles Sumner, August 4, 1865

New York, August 4, 1865.

I should have been in favor of strict justice, that is, death, for the worst, — not from revenge, but distinctly to stamp treason as treason, which has never yet been done in the United States, while in our country it is treason indeed. In fact, treason here is like those infamous conspiracies in the Middle Ages, of some bloodthirsty nobles — on a vast scale. But all this is out of the question. As to exile, we must not forget that we can only get at it by way of conditional pardon, not by a law; whence arises immediately the difficulty, what will you do with the traitors who do not apply for pardon, or who decline accepting it? In European countries, at least I believe in all European countries, a pardon is an official act – which the culprit cannot decline if he desires it. It is there as authoritative an act as the verdict of guilty. It has been decided differently in the United States, because, it is said, it implies an acknowledgment of guilt. Of course the matter would be still very difficult in case of death, for suppose a man sentenced to be hanged would not accept of pardon, he could not be executed. Be this as it may, in the present case of traitors, pardon cannot be forced upon a man. Now what is to be done with men of the worst kind who do not apply for pardon, like Hunter, and who decline your pardon on condition of exile? This is the only difficulty I see, and a very great one it seems to me. What if Mason and Slidell should quietly return and defy the Government? I really wish some six patriotic, calm, deep, and far-seeing men — some thorough lawyers, some statesmen, and judicious, plain citizens — could hold a consultation.

SOURCE: Thomas Sergeant Perry, Editor, The Life and Letters of Francis Lieber, p. 358

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 1,1862

Seward has cowered beneath the roar of the British Lion, and surrendered Mason and Slidell, who have been permitted to go on their errand to England. Now we must depend upon our own strong arms and stout hearts for defense.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 103            

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: December 23,1861

Gen. T. J. Jackson has destroyed a principal dam on the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal. That will give the enemy abundance of trouble. This Gen. Jackson is always doing something to vex the enemy; and I think he is destined to annoy them more.

It is with much apprehension that I see something like a general relaxation of preparation to hurl back the invader. It seems as if the government were waiting for England to do it; and after all, the capture of Slidell and Mason may be the very worst thing that could have happened. Mr. Benjamin, I learn, feels very confident that a rupture between the United States and Great Britain is inevitable. War with England is not to be thought of by Mr. Seward at this juncture, and he will not have it. And we should not rely upon the happening of any such contingency. Some of our officials go so far as to hint that in the event of a war between the United States and Great Britain, and our recognition by the former, it might be good policy for us to stand neutral. The war would certainly be waged on our account, and it would not be consistent with Southern honor and chivalry to retire from the field and leave the friend who interfered in our behalf to fight it out alone. The principal members of our government should possess the highest stamp of character, for never did there exist a purer people.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 101

William Barton Rogers to Henry Darwin Rogers, November 29, 1859

Boston, November 29, 1859.

. . . The doings at Harper's Ferry have made an impression which will long be felt. The execution of Brown, to take place on Friday, will sadden and embitter the hearts of the great majority north of the Potomac. The conduct of Wise has been, I think, weak and absurd; the course of the Court of Appeals, harsh if not iniquitous. I know well the horrors of an apprehended insurrection,¹ and I can make large allowance for those who are affected by them, for I remember the morbid fears which prevailed after the Southampton tragedy. But it amazes me to find Governor Wise surrounding the helpless prisoner by a cordon of more than one thousand soldiers, and forbidding, as he has done, all approach to the place of execution.

I shall write you, dear Henry, by the steamer of Saturday. We are all well. Mr. Savage, who has been slightly lamed, now walks out. Hillard, since his return, has been suffering the effects of his very boisterous passage. Charles Sumner looks well, but I think his disease is rather healed over than eradicated. . . .

Congress is about to organize, and I fear with the prospect of a session of extraordinary turbulence. Already Mason and other extreme men of the South are applying the match to the magazine of combustibles gathered in Washington, by calling for an investigation by Congress of the Harper's Ferry invasion, as they call it. Throughout the Northern States, especially New England and the Northwest, the effect of Brown's mistaken enterprise, with the revelation of heroic self-renunciation which has accompanied it, has been to deepen and extend the hostility to the slave power. The contrast between the trembling fears of a whole State and the resolute bravery, for principle's sake, of one man is most impressive. The purpose of Brown seems to have been to liberate a large number of the slaves and assist them in escaping from the State. But he forgot the horrors and crimes of a servile revolt, to which his effort, if successful, would surely have led, and he must have been strangely ignorant, or deceived, to believe that he could aid the general emancipation of the slaves by such an attempt. He might have given occasion to an appalling loss of life, perhaps almost to the extermination of the blacks in Virginia. Perhaps the impression he has made in the South may hasten in Virginia, at least, the adoption of some prospective cure for this most perilous evil. The whole matter is full of sad suggestions to me. . . .

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¹ Of the slaves.

SOURCE: Emma Savage Rogers & William T. Sedgwick, Life and Letters of William Barton Rogers, Volume 2, p. 16-7

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, Sunday Morning, January 12, 1862

Fayetteville, Virginia, Sunday A. M., January 12, 1862.

Dearest Lucy: — I was made very happy by your letter of the 6th per Sergeant McKinley, and again this morning by a capital account of the boys — rose-colored by his affectionate partiality, but very enjoyable — from Dr. Joe. Such letters from home are next to meeting you all again. You speak of the fourth boy as “Joseph.” Well, “Joe” it shall be if you wish it. Indeed, I thought of suggesting that name but I didn't know what you might have thought of, and one dislikes sometimes to disregard suggestions even on such subjects, and I thought to be, like Lincoln on the Mason and Slidell question, prudently silent. I hope you are not getting about the house so early as to put in hazard your health. Do be very careful.

We are letting a good many of our soldiers go home now that the snow, rain, and thaw have spoiled the roads. Joe seems worried that we are not holding somebody's horses in the “grand army” (a foolish phrase) in Kentucky. We are, or rather, have been, having our share of enterprises towards the jugular vein of Rebeldom— the Southwestern Virginia Railroad, and have captured arms, etc., in quantity.

I was out beyond Raleigh ("Camp Hayes") last week and returned the day before yesterday. Such consternation as spread among the Rebels on the advance of our troops was curious to behold. The advance party went fifty miles from here. People prepared to go as far up as Dublin Depot. Regiments were sent for to Richmond. Rumor said two bodies of Yankees, one thousand strong, were approaching, one on each bank of New River. The militia of five counties were called out, and a high time generally got up. There are many Union men south of here who kept us well posted of Rebel movements. Major Comly is left at Raleigh, and I feel somewhat apprehensive about him. Since the Twenty-sixth has been recalled, I am put in command of the post here.

I just stopped writing to give a pass to Ohio for a man belonging to the sutler department of the Thirtieth who turned out to be a Kinsell of Delaware. He promised to see mother.

I wrote a short note to you or Joe this morning, saying he had better come home (camp is always spoken of as home) if he can safely leave you. Colonel Scammon is really quite unwell, and while he likes Dr. Hayes as a gentleman, would prefer Dr. Joe as a physician. Dr. Jim or I can perhaps go to Cincinnati on his return. My going is rendered doubtful for the present by the departure of Colonel Eckley of the Twenty-sixth and the sickness of Colonel Scammon. Colonel Ewing of the Thirtieth will not return until the first week in February. I may possibly be obliged to await his return.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 184-5

John L. Motley to Anna Lothrop Motley, December 16, 1861

Vienna, December 16, 1861.

My Dearest Mother: It is painful to me to write under such circumstances, but I suppose it is better to send a line. While I write, we have not yet received a telegram of the steamer Asia, to leave December 4, and to bring the President's message. Perhaps before this note is posted this afternoon it will arrive. The telegrams are always sent to me in manuscript by my bankers here very soon after they arrive, and I cannot tell you the sickening feeling of anxiety with which we look at the little bit of folded paper brought in by a servant on a salver, which I always take up between my thumb and finger with loathing, as if it were a deadly asp about to sting us. If the President does not commit the government in his message I shall breathe again. I do not enter into the law or the history. I simply feel that if a war is to take place now between England and America I shall be in danger of losing my reason. To receive at this distance those awful telegrams day by day announcing, in briefest terms, bombardment of Boston, destruction of the Federal fleet, occupation of Washington and New York by the Confederates and their English allies, and all these thousand such horrors, while I am forced to sit so far away, will be too much to bear.

It is mere brag and fustian to talk about fighting England and the South at once, and I have a strong hope that Mr. Chase, who has to find the money, and General McClellan, who knows whether he has not already got enough on his own shoulders, will prevent this consummation of our ruin. If we are capable of taking a noble stand now, if we hold on to our traditional principle, the rights of neutrals and the freedom of the seas, instead of copying the ancient practice of England, we shall achieve the greatest possible triumph. We shall have peace by announcing to the world a high and noble policy, instead of desperate warfare by adopting an abominable one. The English government has fortunately given us a chance by resting its case on the impropriety of allowing a naval officer to act as judge of admiralty.¹ When I first wrote to you on this subject I had only a word or two of information by telegraph, and that was exaggerated. The English demand seemed a declaration of war. It appears that it is not so, and I have still a faint hope. I will say no more on the subject. We are beginning to get accustomed to Vienna. It is a somber place at first, and our feelings about home just now would serve as a pall for the mansions of the blessed. The diplomatic corps are all friendly and cordial, and we are beginning to see something of the Viennese. But I have no heart for anything.

God bless you, my dear mother. Heaven grant that there may be some better news coming!

Your ever-affectionate son,

J. L. M.

P. S. I have just got a telegram that the President does not mention the Trent affair. This is a blessed sign.

_______________

¹ This point was treated fully in Mr. Seward's letter to the British minister, announcing the release of Messrs. Slidell and Mason.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 223-4

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 18, 1861

To-day the Secretary told me, in reply to my question, that he had authentic information of the seizure of Messrs. Slidell and Mason, our commissioners to Europe, by Capt. Wilkes, of the U. S. Navy, and while on board the steamer Trent, a British vessel, at sea. I said I was glad of it. He asked why, in surprise. I remarked that it would bring the Eagle cowering to the feet of the Lion. He smiled, and said it was, perhaps, the best thing that could have happened. And he cautions me against giving passports to French subjects even to visit Norfolk or any of our fortified cities, for it was understood that foreigners at Norfolk were contriving somehow to get on board the ships of their respective nations.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 93-4

John L. Motley to Mary L. Motley, December 1, 1861

Vienna,

December 1, 1861.

My Darling Little Mary: I am only writing you a note to say that we three are all well, but, as you may suppose, most unhappy. The prospect that our ports are to be blockaded by the English fleets, and no communications possible perhaps for years, fills us with gloom.  . . . We have just received intelligence that the English crown lawyers have decided that the arrest of Mason and Slidell was illegal and an insult to England, and that the government has decided to demand their liberation, together with an apology to them and compensation. This intelligence is only telegraphic, and may be exaggerated. If it prove genuine it is simply a declaration of war. From America our latest dates are a telegram, dated November 15, announcing the arrival of Mason and Slidell at Fortress Monroe. If that, too, be correct, it shows that the government had no intention of releasing them, and of course cannot do so when summoned by England. Our next letters and newspapers should arrive to-morrow or next day, with dates to the 20th.

With regard to the war, we have only the rumored, but not authentic, intelligence that 15,000 men had been landed by the fleet at Beaufort. Now I must thank you for your nice, long, interesting letter of November 9-11. I cannot tell you how much we all depend upon your letters. You are our only regular correspondent and mainstay. You cannot write too much, or give us too many details. Everything you tell us about persons is deeply interesting.

Your affectionate

Papagei.¹

_______________

¹ "Parrot," a familiar signature to his daughters.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 220-1

John L. Motley to Anna Lothrop Motley, November 29, 1861

Vienna,

December, 1, 1861.

My Dearest Mother: Your letter of November 5 reached us a few days ago. It is always a great delight to me to receive a note, however short, from your hand, and this time it was a nice, long, and very interesting letter. God knows how long we shall be able to correspond at all, for what I have been dreading more than anything else since our Civil War began seems now, alas! inevitable. Before this reaches you the Southerners have obtained an advantage which all their generals and diplomatists would not have procured for them in twenty years — the alliance of England and the assistance of her fleets and armies. As a technical point, I shall ever remain of opinion that a merchant ship like the Trent is no portion of neutral soil, and that therefore it is no asylum for any individual against a ship of war exercising its belligerent rights on the high seas. The jurisdiction of English merchant vessels is municipal and extends only to their own subjects. It cannot legally protect the enemies of the United States against the United States government. The law of nations prevails on the ocean, and the law of war is a part of that code. The law of war allows you to deal with your enemy where you can find him, and to intercept an ambassador on his passage to a neutral country, provided you can do it without violating neutral soil. A ship of war is deemed a portion of its sovereign's soil; a merchantman is not; so that if the Trent was not a ship of war, and was not within three miles of a neutral coast, I should say that the arrest of Mason and Slidell was legal according to public laws and to the decisions of English admiralty, and according to the uniform practice of the English cruisers throughout the early part of this century. We know too well how many of our sailors were taken from our merchant vessels and compelled to serve against nations at peace with us. But all this signifies nothing.

The English crown lawyers have decided that the arrest was illegal, and it is certainly not in accordance with the principles which we formerly sustained, although it is with the English practice. So England has at last the opportunity which a very large portion of its inhabitants (although not the whole, nor perhaps even a majority) have been panting for, and they step into the field with the largest fleet which the world has ever seen as champions and allies of the Southern Confederacy. If the commander of the Jacinto acted according to his instructions, I hardly see how we are to extricate ourselves from this dilemma, and it remains nevertheless true that Mason and Slidell have done us more damage now than they ever could have done as diplomatists. I am sorry to have taken up the whole of my letter with this theme. Our thoughts are of nothing else, and our life is in telegrams. I never expect another happy hour, and am almost brokenhearted. My whole soul was in the cause of the United States government against this pro-slavery mutiny, and I never doubted our ultimate triumph; but if the South has now secured the alliance of England, a restoration of the Union becomes hopeless.

We are on very good terms with the English ambassador here and Lady Bloomfield, and they, as well as most of the members of the embassy, have always expressed themselves in the most frank and sympathetic language in regard to our government and our cause, and even now that this incident has occurred, Lord Bloomfield, in discussing the matter with me last night, expressed the deepest regret, together with the most earnest hope that the affair might be arranged, although neither he nor I can imagine how such a result is to be reached. We are, as you may suppose, very unhappy, and have really nothing to say about our life here. If Vienna were paradise it would be gloomy under such circumstances. Mary and Lily are both well, and join me in much love to you and my father and all the family.

I shall write by the next steamer, if only a single page like this. Perhaps the communications will be stopped before your answer can arrive.

God bless you. And believe me

Your ever-affectionate son,

J. L. M.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 218-20

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Saturday, December 21, 1861

A cold, bright winter day. Sent a dispatch home to Lucy. Paymaster here getting ready to pay our men. The James D. (Devereux) Bulloch* was a good friend of mine at Middletown, Connecticut, (Webb's school) in 1837-8 from Savannah, Georgia — a whole-hearted, generous fellow. A model sailor I would conjecture him to be. Rebel though he is, I guess him to be a fine fellow, a brave man, honorable and all that.

It is rumored that Great Britain will declare war on account of the seizure of Slidell and Mason. I think not. It will blow over. First bluster and high words, then correspondence and diplomacy, finally peace. But if not, if war, what then? First, it is to be a trying, a severe and dreadful trial of our stuff. We shall suffer, but we will stand it. All the Democratic element, now grumbling and discontented, must then rouse up to fight their ancient enemies the British. The South, too, will not thousands then be turned towards us by seeing their strange allies? If not, shall we not with one voice arm and emancipate the slaves? A civil, sectional, foreign, and servile war — shall we not have horrors enough? Well, I am ready for my share of it. We are in the right and must prevail.

Six companies paid today. Three months' pay due not paid. A “perfectly splendid” day — the seventeenth!!

_______________

* Pasted in the Diary is the following clipping from the Richmond News of November 30: — “Captain James D. Bulloch, who lately successfully ran the blockade while in command of the steamship Fingal, has arrived in Richmond. He thinks there is a likelihood of Lord Palmerston's proving indifferent to the question involved in the seizure, by Captain Wilkes, on the high seas, from a British vessel, of Messrs. Mason and Slidell.”

Captain James D. Bulloch was the “Naval Representative of the Confederate States in Europe” during the Civil War. It was under his direction and through his energy that the Alabama and other cruisers were built and equipped to prey on American commerce. In 1883 Captain Bulloch published in two volumes a most interesting narrative, entitled “The Secret Service of the Confederate States in Europe, or How the Confederate Cruisers Were Equipped.” It may also be recalled that Captain Bulloch was a brother of President Roosevelt's mother.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 164-5

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: September 2, 1861

Mr. Miles says he is not going anywhere at all, not even home. He is to sit here permanently — chairman of a committee to overhaul camps, commissariats, etc., etc.

We exchanged our ideas of Mr. Mason, in which we agreed perfectly. In the first place, he has a noble presence — really a handsome man; is a manly old Virginian, straightforward, brave, truthful, clever, the very beau-ideal of an independent, high-spirited F. F. V. If the English value a genuine man they will have one here. In every particular he is the exact opposite of Talleyrand. He has some peculiarities. He had never an ache or a pain himself; his physique is perfect, and he loudly declares that he hates to see persons ill; seems to him an unpardonable weakness:

It began to grow late. Many people had come to say good-by to me. I had fever as usual to-day, but in the excitement of this crowd of friends the invalid forgot fever. Mr. Chesnut held up his watch to me warningly and intimated “it was late, indeed, for one who has to travel tomorrow.” So, as the Yankees say after every defeat, I “retired in good order.”

Not quite, for I forgot handkerchief and fan. Gonzales rushed after and met me at the foot of the stairs. In his foreign, pathetic, polite, high-bred way, he bowed low and said he had made an excuse for the fan, for he had a present to make me, and then, though “startled and amazed, I paused and on the stranger gazed.” Alas! I .am, a woman approaching forty, and the offering proved to be a bottle of cherry bounce. Nothing could have been more opportune, and with a little ice, etc., will help, I am sure, to save my life on that dreadful journey home.

No discouragement now felt at the North. They take our forts and are satisfied for a while. Then the English are strictly neutral. Like the woman who saw her husband fight the bear, “It was the first fight she ever saw when she did not care who whipped.”

Mr. Davis was very kind about it all. He told Mr. Chesnut to go home and have an eye to all the State defenses, etc., and that he would give him any position he asked for if he still wished to continue in the army. Now, this would be all that heart could wish, but Mr. Chesnut will never ask for anything. What will he ask for? That's the rub. I am certain of very few things in life now, but this is one I am certain of: Mr. Chesnut will never ask mortal man for any promotion for himself or for one of his own family.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 125-6