Diary of John Hay: December 9, 1863

. . . . In the evening Judd and Usher, and Nicolay and I were talking politics and blackguarding our friends in the Council Chamber. A great deal had been said about the folly of the Edward Bates letter — the Rockville Blair speech, etc. — when the President came in. They at once opened on him, and after some talk he settled down to give his ideas about the Blair business. He said:—

“The Blairs have, to an unusual degree, the spirit of clan. Their family is a close corporation. Frank is their hope and pride. They have a way of going with a rush for anything they undertake; — especially have Montgomery and the Old Gentleman. When this war first began, they could think of nothing but Frémont; they expected everything from him; and upon their earnest solicitation he was made a General, and sent to Missouri. I thought well of Frémont. Even now I think he is the prey of wicked and designing men, and I think he has absolutely no military capacity. He went to Missouri, the pet and protegé of the Blairs. At first they corresponded with him and with Frank, who was with him, fully and confidently thinking his plans and his efforts would accomplish great things for the country. At last the tone of Frank’s letters changed. It was a change from confidence to doubt and uncertainty. They were pervaded with a tone of sincere sorrow, and of fear that Frémont would fail. Montgomery showed them to me, and we were both grieved at the prospect. Soon came the news that Frémont had issued his Emancipation Order, and had set up a Bureau of Abolition, giving free papers, and occupying his time apparently with little else. At last, at my suggestion, Montgomery Blair went to Missouri to look at, and talk over matters. He went as the friend of Frémont. I sent him as Frémont ‘s friend. He passed on the way, Mrs. Frémont coming to see me. She sought an audience with me at midnight, and taxed me so violently with many things that I had to exercise all the awkward tact I have, to avoid quarreling with her. She surprised me by asking why their enemy, Montgomery Blair, had been sent to Missouri. She more than once intimated that if Gen'l Frémont should conclude to try conclusions with me, he could set up for himself.”

(Judd says: — “It is pretty clearly proven that Frémont had at that time concluded that the Union was definitely destroyed, and that he should set up an independent government as soon as he took Memphis and organized his army.")

“The next we heard was that Frémont had arrested Frank Blair, and the rupture has since never been healed.”

“During Frémont’s time, the Missouri Democrat, which had always been Blair’s organ, was bought up by Frémont, and turned against Frank Blair. This took away from Frank, after his final break with Frémont, the bulk of the strength which had always elected him. This left him ashore. To be elected in this state of things he must seek for votes outside of the Republican organization. He had pretty hard trimming and cutting to do this consistently. It is this necessity, as it appears to me, of finding some ground for Frank to stand on, that accounts for the present, somewhat anomalous, position of the Blairs in politics.”

Judd: — “The opinion of people who read your Message to-day is that, on that platform, two of your ministers must walk the plank — Blair and Bates.”

Lincoln: — “Both of these men acquiesced in it without objection. The only member of the Cabinet who objected to it was Mr. Chase.”

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 132-5; For the whole diary entry see Tyler Dennett, Editor, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and letters of John Hay, p. 130-4.

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, November 26, 1863

Executive Mansion,

Washington, Nov. 26, 1863.

MY DEAR NICOLAY:

The newspapers of this morning have told you all you want to know, and so I send you no telegram. The news is glorious. Nature was against us, but we won in her spite. Had not the rapid current and drift swept away Hooker’s pontoons, he would have utterly destroyed them.

Grant will immediately send a column to relieve Burnside, and if possible destroy Longstreet.

The President is sick in bed. Bilious.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 129-30; For the whole diary entry see Tyler Dennett, Editor, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and letters of John Hay, p. 127-8.

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, November 25, 1863

Executive Mansion,

Washington, Nov. 25, 1863.

MY DEAR NICO:

Grant’s and Wilcox’s despatches are so cheering this morning that I sent you a cautious dispatch this morning. Hooker (fighting Joe ) (Fightinger than ever) has done gloriously; carried the north slope of Lookout Mountain and gobbled a thousand prisoners. Thomas and Sherman have also done all they attempted, and Grant is to advance to-day along his whole line.

Burnside has sent a courier through to Wilcox and says he is all right as yet; is not hungry or thirsty, and has not quite begun his share of the fighting.

Everything looks well.

Don't, in a sudden spasm of good-nature, send any more people with letters to me requesting

favors from L. I would rather make the tour of a small-pox hospital.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 128-9; For the whole diary entry see Tyler Dennett, Editor, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and letters of John Hay, p. 127.

Diary of John Hay: November 19, 1863

Nov. 18 we started from Washington to go to the consecration of the Soldiers’ Cemetery at Gettysburg. On our train were the President, Seward, Usher and Blair; Nicolay and myself; Mercier and Admiral Reynaud; Bertinatti and Cap^t Isola, and L^t Martinez and Cora; Mrs. Wise; Wayne MacVeagh; McDougal of Canada; and one or two others. We had a pleasant sort of a trip. At Baltimore Schenck’s staff joined us.

Just before we arrived at Gettysburg, the President got into a little talk with McVeagh about Missouri affairs. MacV. talked radicalism until he learned that he was talking recklessly. The President disavowed any knowledge of the Edwards case; said that Bates said to him, as indeed he said to me, that Edwards was inefficient and must be removed for that reason.

At Gettysburg the President went to Mr. Wills who expected him, and our party broke like a drop of quicksilver spilt. MacVeagh, young Stanton and I foraged around for a while — walked out to the College, got a chafing dish of oysters, then some supper, and, finally, loafing around to the Court House where Lamon was holding a  meeting of marshals, we found Forney, and went around to his place, Mr. Fahnestock’s, and drank a little whiskey with him. He had been drinking a good deal during the day, and was getting to feel a little ugly and dangerous. He was particularly bitter on Montgomery Blair. MacVeagh was telling him that he pitched into the Tycoon coming up, and told him some truths. He said the President got a good deal of that, from time to time, and needed it.

He says: — “Hay, you are a fortunate man. You have kept yourself aloof from your office. 

I know an old fellow now seventy, who was Private Secretary to Madison. He thought there was something solemn and memorable in it. Hay has laughed through his term.”

He talked very strangely, referring to the affectionate and loyal support which he and Curtin had given to the President in Pennsylvania, with references from himself and others to the favors that had been shown the Cameron party whom they regard as their natural enemies. Forney seems identified now fully with the Curtain interest, though, when Curtin was nominated, he called him a heavy weight to carry, and said that Cameron’s foolish attack nominated him.

We went out after a while following the music to hear the serenades. The President appeared at the door, said half a dozen words meaning nothing, and went in. Seward, who was staying around the corner at Harper’s was called out, and spoke so indistinctly that I did not hear a word of what he was saying. Forney and MacVeagh were still growling about Blair.

We went back to Forney's room, having picked up Nicolay, and drank more whiskey. Nicolay sang his little song of the “Three Thieves,” and we then sang John Brown. At last we proposed that Forney should make a speech, and two or three started out, Stanton and Behan and Nicolay, to get a band to serenade him. I staid with him; so did Stanton and MacVeagh. He still growled quietly, and I thought he was going to do some thing imprudent. He said, “if I speak, I will speak my mind.” The music sounded in the street, and the fuglers came rushing up, imploring him to come down. He smiled quietly, told them to keep cool, and asked, “are the recorders there?” “I suppose so, of course,” shouted up the fugler. “Ascertain!” said the imperturbable Forney: “Hay, we'll take a drink.” They shouted and begged him to come down. The thing would be a failure; it would be his fault, etc. “Are the recorders congenial?” he calmly insisted on knowing. Somebody commended prudence. He said sternly, “I am always prudent.” I walked down stairs with him.

The crowd was large and clamorous. The fuglers stood by the door in an agony. The reporters squatted at a little stand in the entry. Forney stood on the threshold, John Young and I by him. The crowd shouted as the door opened. Forney said; “My friends these are the first hearty cheers I have heard to-night. You gave no such cheers to your President down the street. Do you know what you owe to that great man? You owe your country — you owe your name as American Citizens.”

He went on blackguarding the crowd for their apathy, and then diverged to his own record, saying he had been for Lincoln in his heart in 1860, — that open advocacy was not as effectual as the course he took — dividing the most corrupt organisation that ever existed — the pro-slavery Democratic party. He dwelt at length on this question, and then went back to the Eulogy of the President, that great, wonderful, mysterious, inexplicable man, who holds in his single hands the reins of the republic; who keeps his own counsels; who does his own purpose in his own way, no matter what temporising minister in his Cabinet sets himself up in opposition to the progress of the age.

And very much of this.

After him Wayne MacVeagh made a most touching and beautiful spurt of five minutes, and Judge Shannon of Pittsburg spoke effectively and acceptably to the people.

“That speech must not be written out yet,” says Young. “He will see further about it when he gets sober,” as we went up stairs. We sang John Brown and went home.

In the morning I got a beast and rode out with the President and suite to the Cemetery in the procession. The procession formed itself in an orphanly sort of way, and moved out with very little help from anybody; and after a little delay Mr. Everett took his place on the stand, — and Mr. Stockton made a prayer which thought it was an oration — and Mr. Everett spoke as he always does, perfectly; and the President, in a firm, free way, with more grace than is his wont, said his half dozen lines of consecration, — and the music wailed, and we went home through crowded and cheering streets. And all the particulars are in the daily papers.

I met Gen^l Cameron after coming in and he, MacVeagh and I, went down to dinner on board the U. C. R. R. Car. I was more than usually struck by the intimate jovial relations that exist between men that hate and detest each other as cordially as do those Pennsylvania politicians.

We came home the night of the 19th.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 120-5; For the whole diary entry see Tyler Dennett, Editor, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and letters of John Hay, p. 119-22.

Diary of John Hay: Sunday, November 8, 1863

The President tells me that Meade is at last after the enemy and that Grant will attack to-morrow.

Went with Mrs. Ames to Gardiner’s gallery and were soon joined by Nico and the President. We had a great many pictures taken. Some of the Pres^t the best I have seen. Nico and I immortalised ourselves by having ourselves done in group with the Pres^t.

In the evening Seward came in. He feels very easy and confident now about affairs. He says New York is safe for the Presidential election by a much larger majority, that the crowd that follows power have come over; that the copperhead spirit is crushed and humbled. He says the Democrats lost their leaders when Toombs and Davis and Breckinridge forsook them and went south; that their new leaders, the Seymours, Vallandighams and Woods, are now whipped and routed. So that they have nothing left. The Democratic leaders are either ruined by the war, or have taken the right-about, and have saved themselves from the ruin of their party by coming out on the right side. . . .

He told the Democratic party how they might have saved themselves and their organisation, and with it the coming Presidential election — by being more loyal and earnest in support of the administration than the Republican party — which would not be hard, the Lord knows!

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 118-9; For the whole diary entry see Tyler Dennett, Editor, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and letters of John Hay, p. 117-8.

John Hay to John G. Nicolay: September 11, 1863

Executive Mansion,

Washington, September 11, 1863.

MY DEAR NICOLAY:

A week or so ago I got frightened at

“The brow so haggard, the chin so peaked,

Fronting me silent in the glass,”

and sending for Stoddard (who had been giving the northern watering places for the last two months a model of high breeding and unquestionable deportment), I left for a few days at Long Branch and two or three more at Providence. I was at the Commencement at Brown University, and made a small chunk of a talk. I only staid a little over a week, and came back feeling heartier.

I must be in Warsaw early in October on account of family affairs. As I infer from your letter that you cannot return before November, or, as Judge Otto says, before December, I will have to give the reins up for a few days to Stoddard and Howe again. I hope the daring youth will not reduplicate the fate of Phaeton.

Washington is as dull here as an obsolete almanac. The weather is not so bad as it was. The nights are growing cool. But there is nobody here except us old stagers who can't get away. We have some comfortable dinners and some quiet little orgies on whiskey and cheese in my room. And the time slides away.

We are quietly jolly over the magnificent news from all round the board. Rosecrans won a great and bloodless victory at Chattanooga which he had no business to win. The day that the enemy ran, he sent a mutinous message to Halleck complaining of the very things that have secured us the victories, and foreshadowing only danger and defeat.

You may talk as you please of the Abolition Cabal directing affairs from Washington; some well-meaning newspapers advise the President to keep his fingers out of the military pie, and all that sort of thing. The truth is, if he did, the pie would be a sorry mess. The old man sits here and wields like a backwoods Jupiter the bolts of war and the machinery of government with a hand equally steady and equally firm.

His last letter is a great thing. Some hideously bad rhetoric — some indecorums that are infamous, — yet the whole letter takes its solid place in history as a great utterance of a great man. The whole Cabinet could not have tinkered up a letter which could have been compared with it. He can rake a sophism out of its hole better than all the trained logicians of all schools. I do not know whether the nation is worthy of him for another term. I know the people want him. There is no mistaking that fact. But politicians are strong yet, and he is not their “kind of a cat.” I hope God won't see fit to scourge us for our sins by any one of the two or three most prominent candidates on the ground.

I hope you are getting well and hearty. Next winter will be the most exciting and laborious of all our lives. It will be worth any other ten.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 100-3; For the whole diary entry see Tyler Dennett, Editor, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and letters of John Hay, p. 90-1; Michael Burlingame, Editor, At Lincoln’s Side: John Yay’s Civil War Correspondence and Selected Writings, p. 53-4.

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, August 7, 1863

Executive Mansion,

Washington, August 7, 1863.

MY DEAR NICO:

. . . . Bob and his mother have gone to the white mountains. (I don't take any special stock in the matter, and write the locality in small letters.) Bob was so shattered by the wedding of the idol of all of us, the bright particular Teutonne, that he rushed madly off to sympathise with nature in her sternest aspects. They will be gone some time. The newspapers say the Tycoon will join them after a while. If so, he does not know it. He may possibly go for a few days to Cape May, where Hill Lamon is now staying, though that is not certain.

This town is as dismal now as a defaced tombstone. Everybody has gone. I am getting apathetic and write blackguardly articles for the Chronicle from which West extracts the dirt and fun, and publishes the dreary remains. The Tycoon is in fine whack. I have rarely seen him more serene and busy. He is managing this war, the draft, foreign relations, and planning a reconstruction of the Union, all at once. I never knew with what tyrannous authority he rules the Cabinet till now. The most important things he decides, and there is no cavil. I am growing more and more firmly convinced that the good of the country absolutely demands that he should be kept where he is till this thing is over. There is no man in the country so wise, so gentle and so firm. I believe the hand of God placed him where he is.

They are all working against him like braves though, — Hale and that crowd — but don't seem to make anything by it. I believe the people know what they want, and unless politics have gained in power and lost in principle, they will have it

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 89-91; For the whole letter see Tyler Dennett, Editor, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and letters of John Hay, p. 75-6 and Michael Burlingame, Editor, Inside Lincoln's White House: The Complete Civil War Diary of John Hay, p. 48-9.

Diary of John Hay: July 16, 1863

Nicolay leaves to-day for the Rocky Mountains. . .  Had a little talk with the President about Milroy. Says Halleck thinks Schenck never had a military idea and never will learn one. Thinks Schenck is somewhat to blame for the Winchester business. President says, however you may doubt or disagree from Halleck, he is very apt to be right in the end. . . .

Gen^l Wadsworth came in. He said in answer to Alexander's question, “Why did Lee escape?” “Because nobody stopped him,” rather gruffly.

Wadsworth says that at a council of war of Corps Commanders, held on Sunday the 12th, he was present on account of the sickness of his Corps Commander, he, Wadsworth, being temporarily in command of the Corps. On the question of fight or no fight, the weight of authority was against fighting. French, Sedgwick, Slocum and —— strenuously opposed a fight. Meade was in favor of it. So was Warren , who did most of the talking on that side, and Pleasonton was very eager for it, as also was Wadsworth himself. The non-fighters thought, or seemed to think, that if we did not attack, the enemy would, and even Meade thought he was in for action, had no idea that the enemy intended to get away at once. Howard had little to say on the subject.

Meade was in favor of attacking in three columns of 20,000 men each. Wadsworth was in favor of doing as Stonewall Jackson did at Chancellorsville, double up the left, and drive them down on Williamsport. I do not question that either plan would have succeeded. Wadsworth said to Hunter who sat beside him: — “General, there are a good many officers of the regular army who have not yet entirely lost the West Point idea of southern superiority. That sometimes accounts for an otherwise unaccountable slowness of attack.”

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 86-8; Tyler Dennett, Editor, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and letters of John Hay, p. 67-8

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, April 23, 1863

Hilton Head, S. C,

April 23, 1863.

MY DEAR NICO:

In yours of the 15th received last night, you say “there was verbal indication of much wrath at the report that Dupont intended to withdraw his fleet and abandon his position.” I was surprised at this. If you have received my different letters you will see why. He would have obeyed orders had he done so. You say we have gained points d'appui for future work. The navy say not. They say they cannot lie off Morris Island to cover the landing of our troops, (or rather the crossing from Folly Island, the only practicable route), without imminent danger of being driven ashore and wrecked by the first northeasterly breeze that comes. It is not for me to say what is, or what is not, possible. My old ideas have been horribly shattered when I have seen two men, each of whom I had formerly considered an oracle on every subject connected with ships, accusing each other of ignorance and charlatanism.

I do not think Dupont is either a fool or a coward. I think there is a great deal of truth in his statement that, while the fight in Charleston harbor demonstrated the great defensive properties of the Monitors, it also proved that they could not be relied upon for aggressive operations.

With an adequate force I think Hunter could dislodge the enemy from Morris Island, and from that point make a hole in Fort Sumter; but even then little has been done. The General is sanguine. He wants a fight. I hope he may have one before I return.

To-day I start for Florida. . . . .

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 83-4; Michael Burlingame, Editor, At Lincoln’s Side: John Hay’s Civil War Correspondence and Selected Writings, p. 37-8 where the entire letter appears.

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, April 16, 1863

Hilton Head, S. C,

April 16, 1863.

MY DEAR NICOLAY:

The General and the Admiral this morning received the orders from Washington directing the continuance of operations against Charleston. The contrast was very great in the manner in which they received them. The General was absolutely delighted. He said he felt more encouraged, and was in better heart and hope than before, at this indication of the earnestness of the government to finish this business here. He said, however, that the Admiral seemed in very low spirits about it. He talked despondingly about it, adhering to the same impressions of the desperate character of the enterprise as I reported to the President after my first interview with him. Perhaps having so strongly expressed his belief that the enterprise was impracticable he feels that he is rebuked by an opposite opinion from Washington.

General Hunter is in the best feather about the matter. He believed before we came back that with the help of the gunboats we could take Morris Island and from that point reduce Fort Sumter; and he is well pleased to have another chance at it. Whether the intention of the government be to reduce Charleston now, with adequate men and means, or by powerful demonstrations to retain a large force of the enemy here, he is equally anxious to go to work again.

I write this entirely confidentially for you and for the President to know the ideas prevalent here.

Gen. Seymour has been with you before this, and has given to the government the fullest information relative to military matters here. His arrival, I suppose, will only confirm the resolution already taken. Admiral Dupont's despatches by the Flambeau of course put a darker shade on the matter than anything Seymour will say, as he was strongly in favor of staying there and fighting it out. . . .

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 81-3; Michael Burlingame, Editor, At Lincoln’s Side: John Hay’s Civil War Correspondence and Selected Writings, p. 36-7 where the entire letter appears.

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, April 14, 1863

April 14, 1863.

MY DEAR NICO:

Here is one of the cleverest things I have seen since the war began. It is an impromptu order of Halpine’s on Miss Mary Brooks, a New York lady, who was down here on a visit with Mrs. Raymond. The “Hay” is, of course, Charlie, not the Colonel.

We are living very pleasantly here since the return from Charleston of the K 's. The General has some fine horses and the rides are pleasant.

Yours truly,

J. H.

_______________

Headquarters, Dept. of the South,

Hilton Head, S. C., March 25, 1863

 SPECIAL ORDERS,

A. No. 1

I.

With her charming looks

And all her graces,

Miss Mary Brooks,

Whose lovely face is

The sweetest thing we have seen down here

On these desolate Islands for more than a year,

Is hereby appointed an extra Aide

On the Staff of the General Commanding,

With a Captain of Cavalry's strap and grade,

And with this most definite understanding.

II.

That Captain Mary,

Gay and airy,

At nine each day, until further orders,

To Colonel Halpine shall report

For special duty at these Headquarters:—

And Captain Mary,

(Bless the fairy!)

Shall hold herself, upon all occasions,

Prepared to ride

At the Adjutant's side

And give him of flirting his regular rations;

And she shan't vamoose

With the younglings loose

Of the junior Staff, — such as Hay and Skinner;

But, galloping onward, she shall sing,

Like an everlasting lark on the wing—

And she shan't keep the Adjutant late for dinner.

III.

The Chief Quartermaster of Department

Will give Captain Mary a riding garment:—

A long, rich skirt of a comely hue,

Shot silk, with just a suspicion of blue,—

A gipsey hat, with an ostrich feather,

A veil to protect her against the weather,

And delicate gauntlets of pale buff leather;

Her saddle with silver shall all be studded

And her pony, — a sorrel, — it shall be blooded:

Its shoes shall be silver, its bridle all ringing

With bells that shall harmonize well with her singing.

And thus Captain Mary,

Gay, festive and airy,

Each morning shall ride

At the Adjutant's side

And hold herself ready, on all fit occasions,

To give him of flirting his full army rations.

By Command of Maj. Gen'l D. Hunter,

Ed. W. Smith,

Assistant Adjutant-General.

Official Copy:

Chas. G. Halpine,

Lieut.-Col. and Assistant Adjutant-General,

10th Army Corps, and Department of the South.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 79-81; Michael Burlingame, Editor, At Lincoln’s Side: John Hay’s Civil War Correspondence and Selected Writings, p. 36 where the entire letter appears.

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, April 10, 1863

[Stono] River, S. C, April 10.

I have written some particulars of my interview with Admiral DuPont which I thought the President should know. Please give it to him, reading it yourself if you care to. I went up into the harbor yesterday. The gray-coated rascals were on both sides, waiting for another attack. A crowd of them were crawling cautiously over the bluff to look at the wreck of the Keokuk which has sunk near the shore. They are very busy throwing up new batteries on Morris Island, and did not fire on us though we were in easy range. While I was gone they published the order making me Voln. A. D. C.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 74-5; Michael Burlingame, Editor, At Lincoln’s Side: John Hay’s Civil War Correspondence and Selected Writings, p. 34 where the entire letter appears.

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, April 8, 1863

Stone River, S. C,

Wednesday, April 8, 1863.

MY DEAB NICO:

I arrived here to-night at the General's headquarters and was very pleasantly received by both him and Halpine. They are both in fine health and spirits. Halpine is looking better than I ever saw him before. They asked after you. On the way down I had for compagnons de voyage Generals Vogdes and Gordon; Gordon on sick leave and Vogdes to report for duty.

I hear nothing but encouraging accounts of the fight of yesterday in Charleston harbor. General Seymour, chief of staff, says we are sure to whip them; much surer than we were before the attack. The monitors behaved splendidly. The Keokuk was sunk and the Patapsco somewhat damaged, but as a whole they encountered the furious and concentrated fire of the enemy in a style for which even our own officers had scarcely dared to hope. The attack will soon be resumed with greater confidence and greater certainty of what they are able to do than before. An expedition is on for the army from which they hope important results. The force of the enemy is much larger than ours, but not so well posted, and as they are entirely ignorant of our plans they are forced to scatter and distribute their strength so as greatly to diminish its efficiency. Our troops are in good order and fine spirits apparently. I think highly of Seymour from the way he talks; like a firm, quick and cool-headed man. On the whole, things look well, if not very brilliant.

The General says he is going to announce me to-morrow as a volunteer Aide without rank. I am glad of it as the thing stands. If I had not been published as having accepted, hesitated and rejected such an appointment, I would not now have it. But I want my abolition record clearly defined, and that will do it better than anything else in my mind and the minds of the few dozen people who know me. . . .

I wish you could be down here. You would enjoy it beyond measure. The air is like June at noon and like May at morning and evening. The scenery is tropical. The sunsets unlike anything I ever saw before. They are not gorgeous like ours, but singularly quiet and solemn. The sun goes down over the pines through a sky like ashes-of-roses, and hangs for an instant on the horizon like a bubble of blood. Then there is twilight such as you dream about. . . .

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 72-4;  Michael Burlingame, Editor, At Lincoln’s Side: John Hay’s Civil War Correspondence and Selected Writings, p. 32-3 where the entire letter appears.

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, August 27, 1862

Executive Mansion,

Washington, Aug. 27, 1862.

MY DEAR SIR:

Where is your scalp? If anybody believes you don't wish you were at home, he can get a pretty lively bet out of me. I write this letter firing into the air. If it hits you, well. It will not hurt so much as a Yancton’s rifle. If in God's good Providence your long locks adorn the lodge of an aboriginal warrior and the festive tomtom is made of your stretched hide, I will not grudge the time thus spent, for auld lang syne. In fancy's eye I often behold you the centre and ornament of a wildwood circle, delighting the untutored children of the forest with Tuscan melodies. But by the rivers of Babylon you refuse to yield to dalliance — yea, you weep when you remember Washington whose magnificent distances are nevermore for you.

Washington is not at the present speaking an alluring village. Everybody is out of town and nobody cares for nobody that is here. One exception tres charmante which is French for devilish tidy. Miss Census Kennedy is here with a pretty cousin from Baltimore which Ellicott S—— is quite spooney about her while I am languidly appreciative.

Grover’s Theatre re-opens next Saturday and Dahlgren breathes again. Some pretty women are engaged, to whom I am promised introductions. There is also a new Club House established in the city, to which I have sometimes gone to satisfy the ragings of famine. I think you will patronize it extensively when you come back. I ride on horseback mornings. I ride the off horse. He has grown so rampagious by being never driven (I have no time to drive) that no one else whom I can find can ride him. Stoddard, Boutwell and Leutze ride sometimes the near horse.

I am yours,

[JOHN HAY.]

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 68-70; Tyler Dennett, Editor, Lincoln and the Civil War: in the Diaries and letters of John Hay, p. 44; Michael Burlingame, Editor, At Lincoln’s Side: John Hay’s Civil War Correspondence and Selected Writings, p. 25.

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, August 11, 1862

Executive Mansion,

Washington, August 11, 1862.

MY DEAR GEORGE:

You will have seen by the papers that Pope has been running his head into a hornet's nest. He fought a desperate battle the other day — or rather Banks did — Pope coming up at the end of it.

He stands now in good position, eager for another fight and confident of licking the enemy.

The Tycoon has given orders that he shan't fight unless there is a first-rate chance of cleaning them out. The Tycoon thinks a defeat there would be a greater nuisance than several victories would abate.

There is no further news. It is horribly hot, all but me who have gone to shaking again. Your infernal south windows always give me the chills. Stone has broken them up, however, and doses me remorselessly to keep them away.

If in the wild woods, you scrouge an Indian damsel, steal her moccasins while she sleeps and bring them to me.

The Tycoon has just received a pair, gorgeously quilled, from an Indian Agent who is accused of stealing. He put them on and grinned. Will he remember them on the day when Caleb proposes another to fill the peculating donor's office? I fear not, my boy! I fear not!

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 59-60; Michael Burlingame, Editor, At Lincoln’s Side: John Hay’s Civil War Correspondence and Selected Writings, p. 24; Tyler Dennett, Editor, Lincoln and the Civil War: in the Diaries and letters of John Hay, p. 43

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, August 1, 1862

Executive Mansion,

Washington, August 1, 1862.

MY DEAR JNO. GEORGE:

There is positively nothing of the slightest interest since you left. The abomination of desolation has fallen upon this town. I find that I can put in twenty-four hours out of every day very easily, in the present state of affairs, at the Executive Mansion. The crowd continually increases instead of diminishing. The Tax Business has begun to grind. Chase is having  things very much his own way. He makes out a batch of twenty or thirty commissions at a time, filling in the names, and presenting them to the President to sign.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 58-9; Michael Burlingame, Editor, At lincoln’s Side: John Hay’s Civil War Correspondence and Selected Writings, p. 23-4

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, April 9, 1862

Executive Mansion,

Washington, April 9, 1862.

Glorious news comes borne on every wind but the South Wind. While Pope is crossing the turbid and broad torrent of the Mississippi in the blaze of the enemy's fire, and Grant is fighting the overwhelming legions of Beauregard at Pittsburg, the little Napoleon sits trembling before the handful of men at Yorktown afraid either to fight or run. Stanton feels devilish about it. He would like to remove him if he thought it would do.

Things go on here about as usual. There is no fun at all.  . . . I am getting along pretty well. I only work about twenty hours a day. I do all of your work and half of my own now you are away. Don't hurry yourself. We are getting on very well. I talk a little French too now. I have taken a great notion to the Gerolts. I went to see them the other day. The children were less scared than usual, and they and Madame la Baronne talked long and earnestly of the state of your hygiene, and said “it was good intentions you for to go to the West for small time.”

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 57-8; Tyler Dennett, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and Letters of John Hay, p. 40-41 in which to full letter appears.

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, Friday, April 4, 1862

Friday, April 4, 1862.

McClellan is at last in motion. He is now moving on Richmond. The secret is very well kept. Nobody out of the Cabinet knows it in town. Dug Wallack is in a great fidget about it. He knows something is in the wind but can't guess what.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 57; Tyler Dennett, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and Letters of John Hay, p. 40.

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, April 3, 1862

Thursday morning.

McC. is in danger, not in front but in rear. The President is making up his mind to give him a peremptory order to march. It is disgraceful to think how the little squad at Yorktown keeps him at bay.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 56; Tyler Dennett, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and Letters of John Hay, p. 39.

John Hay to John G. Nicolay, March 31, 1862

March 31, 1862.

Little Mac sails to-day for down river. He was in last night to see Tycoon. He was much more pleasant and social in manner than formerly. He seems to be anxious for the good opinion of everyone.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 56; Tyler Dennett, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and Letters of John Hay, p. 38.