Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 24, 1861

To-day I was startled by the announcement from Col. Bledsoe that he would resign soon, and that it was his purpose to ask the President to appoint me chief of the bureau in his place. I said I preferred a less conspicuous position — and less labor — but thanked him. He said he had no influence with the Secretary — an incontrovertible fact; and that he thought he should return to the University. While we were speaking, the President's messenger came in with a note to the colonel; I did not learn the purport of it, but it put the colonel in a good humor. He showed me the two first words: “Dear Bledsoe.” He said nothing more about resigning.

I must get more lucrative employment, or find something for my son to do. The boarding of my family, alone, comes to more than my salary; and the cost of everything is increasing.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 55

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 23, 1861

Every day as soon as the first press of business is over, the Secretary comes out of his office and taps me on the shoulder, and invites me to ride with him in quest of a house. We go to those offered for rent; but he cannot be suited.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 54

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 22, 1861

The Convention has appointed ten additional members to the Provisional Congress — President Tyler among them. It will be observed that my Diary goes on, including every day. Fighting for our homes and holy altars, there is no intermission on Sunday. It is true, Mr. Memminger came in the other day with a proposition to cease from labor on Sunday, but our Secretary made war on it. The President, however, goes to church very regularly — St. Paul's.

On last Sunday the President surprised me. It was before church time, and I was working alone. No one else was in the large room, and the Secretary himself had gone home, quite ill. I thought I heard some one approaching lightly from behind, but wrote on without looking up; even when he had been standing some time at the back of my chair. At length I turned my head, and beheld the President not three feet from me. He smiled, and said he was looking for a certain letter referred by him to the Secretary. I asked the name of the writer, which he told me. I said I had a distinct recollection of it, and had taken it into the Secretary with other papers that morning. But the Secretary was gone. We then proceeded into the Secretary's office in search of it. The Secretary's habit was to take the papers from his table, and after marking on them with his pencil the disposition he wished made of them, he threw them helter-skelter into a large arm-chair. This chair now contained half a bushel; and the President and I set to work in quest of the letter. We removed them, one by one and as we progressed, he said with an impatient smite, “it is always sure to be the last one.” And so it was. Having found it he departed immediately; and soon after I saw him on his way to church.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 54

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 17, 1861

To-day there was a rumor in the streets that Harper's Ferry had been evacuated by Gen. Joseph E. Johnston, and, for the first time, I heard murmurs against the government. So far, perhaps, no Executive had ever such cordial and unanimous support of the people as President Davis. I knew the motive of the evacuation, and prepared a short editorial for one of the papers, suggesting good reasons for the retrograde movement; and instancing the fact that when Napoleon's capital was surrounded and taken, he had nearly 200,000 men in garrison in the countries he had conquered, which would have been ample for the defense of France. This I carried to the Secretary at his lodgings, and he was so well pleased with it he wanted me to accompany him to the lodgings of the President, in the same hotel, and show it to him. This I declined, alleging it might be too late for the press. He laughed at my diffidence, and disinclination on such occasions to approach the President. I told him my desire was to serve the cause, and not myself. I suppose he was incredulous.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 52-3

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 16, 1861

To-day, receiving dispatches from General Floyd, in Western Virginia, that ten thousand Yankees were advancing through Fayette County, and might intercept railroad communication between Richmond and Chattanooga — the Secretary got me to send a telegraphic dispatch to his family to repair hither without delay, for military reasons. About this time the Secretary's health gave way again, and Major Tyler had another fit of indisposition totally disqualifying him for business. Hence I have nearly all the correspondence of the department on my hands, since Col. Bledsoe has ceased to write.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 52

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 15, 1861

Another clerk has been appointed; a sedate one, by the name of Shepherd, and a former pupil of the colonel's.

I received several hints that the Chief of the Bureau was not at all a favorite with the Secretary, who considered him utterly unfit for the position; and that it could hardly be good policy for me to be on terms of such intimacy with him. Policy! A word I never appreciated, a thing I never knew. All I know is that Col. Bledsoe has been appointed by the President to fill an important position; and the same power appoints the secretaries, and can unmake them. Under these circumstances I find him permitted to sit for hours and days in the department with no one to inform him of the condition of the business or to facilitate him in the performance of his official duties. Not for any partiality in his behalf, or prejudice against the Secretary, I step forward and endeavor to discharge my own duty. I strive to serve the cause, whatsoever may be the consequences to my personal interests.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 52

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 9, 1861

To-day the Secretary refused to sign the colonel's letters, telling him to sign them himself — “by order of the Secretary of War.”

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 51

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 8, 1861

This morning Col. Bledsoe came in with his letters, some fifty in number, looking haggard and worn. It was, indeed, a vast number. But with one of his humorous smiles, he said they were short. He asked me to look over them, and I found them mainly appropriate responses to the letters marked for answer, and pretty closely in accordance with the Secretary's dictation. In one or two instances, however, he had been unable to decipher the Secretary's most difficult chirography — for he had no idea of punctuation. In these instances he had wholly misconcieved the meaning, and the replies were exactly the reverse of what they were intended to be. These he tore up, and wrote others before submitting any to the Secretary.

I had only written some thirty letters; but mine were longer — longer than there was any necessity for. I told the colonel that the Secretary had a partiality for “full” letters, especially when addressing any of his friends; and that Major Tyler, who had returned, and was then sitting with the Secretary, rarely dismissed one from his pen under less than three pages. The colonel smiled, and said when there was nothing further to say, it was economy to say nothing. He then carried his letters into the Secretary's office, clearing his throat according to custom on passing a door. I trembled for him; for I knew Mr. Walker had an aversion to signing his name to letters of merely two or three lines. He returned again immediately, saying the Secretary was busy. He left the letters, however.

Presently Major Tyler came out of the Secretary's room with several voluminous letters in his own handwriting, duly signed. The major greeted the colonel most cordially; and in truth his manners of a gentleman are so innate that I believe it would be utterly impossible for him to be clownish or rude in his address, if he were to make a serious effort to be so.

The major soon left us and re-entered the Secretary's office; but returned immediately bearing the colonel's fifty letters, which he placed before him and then retired. The very first one the colonel's eye rested upon, brought the color to his face. Every line in it had been effaced, and quite a different answer substituted in pencil marks between the lines! “I wrote that,” said the colonel, “according to his own dictation.” And as every letter carried in its fold the one to which it was a reply, he exhibited the Secretary's words in pencil marks. The colonel was right. The Secretary had omitted the little word “not”; and hence the colonel had written to the Georgian: “Your company of cavalry is accepted.” The Secretary refused almost uniformly to accept cavalry, and particularly Georgia cavalry. I took blame to myself for not discovering this blunder previously. But the colonel, with his rapid pen, soon wrote another answer. About one-half the letters had to be written over again; and the colonel, smiling, and groaning, and perspiring so extravagantly that he threw off his coat, and occupied himself several hours in preparing the answers in accordance with the Secretary's corrections. And when they were done, Mr. S. S. Scott, who was to copy them in the letter-book, complimented the colonel on their brevity. In response to this, the colonel said, unfortunately, he wished he, Scott, were the secretary. Scott abused every one who wrote a long letter.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 49

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 7, 1861

We have a Chief of the Bureau of War, a special favorite, it is said, of Mr. Davis. I went into the Secretary's room (I now occupy one adjoining), and found a portly gentleman in a white vest sitting alone. The Secretary was out, and had not instructed the new officer what to do. He introduced himself to me, and admitted that the Secretary had not assigned him to duty. I saw at a glance how the land lay. It was Col. A. T. Bledsoe, lately of the University of Virginia; and he had been appointed by the President, not upon the recommendation of the Secretary. Here was a muss not larger than a mustard-seed; but it might grow, for I knew well how sensitive was the nature of the Secretary; and he had not been consulted. And so I took it upon myself to be cicerone to the stranger. He was very grateful, — for a long time. Col. B. had graduated at West Point in the same class with the President and Bishop Polk, and subsequently, after following various pursuits, being once, I believe, a preacher, became settled as a teacher of mathematics at the University of Virginia. The colonel stayed near me, aiding in the work of answering letters; but after sitting an hour, and groaning repeatedly when gazing at the mass of papers constantly accumulating before us, he said he believed he would take a number of them to his lodging and answer them there. I saw nothing more of him during the day. And once or twice, when the Secretary came in, he looked around for him, but said nothing. Finally I informed him what I had done; and, without signifying an assent, he merely remarked that there was no room in his office for him.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 49

Lieutenant-Colonel John T. L. Preston to Margaret Junkin Preston, December 27, 1861

Governor Letcher's Office,

Friday, Dec. 27th.

Dear Maggie, — I expect to leave to-morrow for Winchester. I have got through my business, and must hurry back to save Sunday travel. Jackson sent me down on a forlorn hope, and I have nothing to blame myself for, that I did not accomplish what could not be done. I am sure that I did all that mortal man could do in the premises. The Secretary of War received me very kindly, and so did President Davis. The latter said, when I was introduced to him, that he had expected to see a Colonel Preston that he had met before, but, said he, so many of your name have entered the service, that it is no wonder I was mistaken. So much for your name, Mrs. Preston!

Well, I can't come home at New Year. I got leave of absence from the Secretary of War¹, and will remain with Jackson if he makes the movement he contemplates. If he should be obliged to go into winter quarters, I will hurry home. You believe me, dearest, this does not answer the demands of my heart. There is nothing in any mode of life that compensates me for the loss of your society and the delights of home. But I am glad to believe that my services are of value to my country in this her hour of need, and if in the Providence of God, my life is to be laid upon her altar, most freely the offering shall be made.

But I know what I am best suited for; it is to make your happiness in securing mine. I claim not to be equal to many men for military talents — I find and acknowledge many superiors in business, in oratory, in scholarship and in many other things, but that man who knows better than I do how to appreciate and return the love of a noble woman, I never expect to see!  . . . But you would not love me if I could forget duty.

I am writing this in the governor's office, so surrounded with men in whose conversation I am compelled to take part, that I cannot fix my thoughts long enough to say many things that I proposed. . . .

Your Husband.

_______________

¹ From service at the V. M. I.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 127-8

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: August 8, 1861

To-day I saw a sword captured at Manassas. The man who brought the sword, in the early part of the fray, was taken prisoner by the Yankees. They stripped him, possessed themselves of his sleeve-buttons, and were in the act of depriving him of his boots when the rout began and the play was reversed; proceedings then took the opposite tack.

From a small rill in the mountain has flowed the mighty stream which has made at last Louis Wigfall the worst enemy the President has in the Congress, a fact which complicates our affairs no little. Mr. Davis's hands ought to be strengthened; he ought to be upheld. A divided house must fall, we all say.

Mrs. Sam Jones, who is called Becky by her friends and cronies, male and female, said that Mrs. Pickens had confided to the aforesaid Jones (nee Taylor, and so of the President Taylor family and cousin of Mr. Davis's first wife), that Mrs. Wigfall “described Mrs. Davis to Mrs. Pickens as a coarse Western woman.” Now the fair Lucy Holcombe and Mrs. Wigfall had a quarrel of their own out in Texas, and, though reconciled, there was bitterness underneath. At first, Mrs. Joe Johnston called Mrs. Davis “a Western belle,”¹ but when the quarrel between General Johnston and the President broke out, Mrs. Johnston took back the “belle” and substituted “woman” in the narrative derived from Mrs. Jones.

Commodore Barron² came with glad tidings. We had taken three prizes at sea, and brought them in safely, one laden with molasses. General Toombs told us the President complimented Mr. Chesnut when he described the battle scene to his Cabinet, etc. General Toombs is certain Colonel Chesnut will be made one of the new batch of brigadiers. Next came Mr. Clayton, who calmly informed us Jeff Davis would not get the vote of this Congress for President, so we might count him out.

Mr. Meynardie first told us how pious a Christian soldier was Kershaw, how he prayed, got up, dusted his knees and led his men on to victory with a dash and courage equal to any Old Testament mighty man of war.

Governor Manning's account of Prince Jerome Napoleon: “He is stout and he is not handsome. Neither is he young, and as he reviewed our troops he was terribly overheated.” He heard him say “en avant,” of that he could testify of his own knowledge, and he was told he had been heard to say with unction “Allons” more than once. The sight of the battle-field had made the Prince seasick, and he received gratefully a draft of fiery whisky.

Arrago seemed deeply interested in Confederate statistics, and praised our doughty deeds to the skies. It was but soldier fare our guests received, though we did our best. It was hard sleeping and worse eating in camp. Beauregard is half Frenchman and speaks French like a native. So one awkward mess was done away with, and it was a comfort to see Beauregard speak without the agony of finding words in the foreign language and forming them, with damp brow, into sentences. A different fate befell others who spoke “a little French.”

General and Mrs. Cooper came to see us. She is Mrs. Smith Lee's sister. They were talking of old George Mason — in Virginia a name to conjure with. George Mason violently opposed the extension of slavery. He was a thorough aristocrat, and gave as his reason for refusing the blessing of slaves to the new States, Southwest and Northwest, that vulgar new people were unworthy of so sacred a right as that of holding slaves. It was not an institution intended for such people as they were. Mrs. Lee said: “After all, what good does it do my sons that they are Light Horse Harry Lee's grandsons and George Mason's? I do not see that it helps them at all.”

A friend in Washington writes me that we might have walked into Washington any day for a week after Manassas, such were the consternation and confusion there. But the god Pan was still blowing his horn in the woods. Now she says Northern troops are literally pouring in from all quarters. The horses cover acres of ground. And she thinks we have lost our chance forever.

A man named Grey (the same gentleman whom Secretary of War Walker so astonished by greeting him with, “Well, sir, and what is your business?”) described the battle of the 21st as one succession of blunders, redeemed by the indomitable courage of the two-thirds who did not run away on our side. Doctor Mason said a fugitive on the other side informed him that “a million of men with the devil at their back could not have whipped the rebels at Bull Run.” That's nice.

There must be opposition in a free country. But it is very uncomfortable. “United we stand, divided we fall.” Mrs. Davis showed us in The New York Tribune an extract from an Augusta (Georgia) paper saying, “Cobb is our man. Davis is at heart a reconstructionist.” We may be flies on the wheel, we know our insignificance; but Mrs. Preston and myself have entered into an agreement; our oath is recorded on high. We mean to stand by our President and to stop all fault-finding with the powers that be, if we can and where we can, be the fault-finders generals or Cabinet Ministers.

_______________

¹ Mrs. Davis was born in Natchez, Mississippi, and educated in Philadelphia. She was married to Mr. Davis in 1845. In recent years her home has been in New York City, where she still resides (Dec. 1904).

² Samuel Barron was a native of Virginia, who had risen to be a captain in the United States Navy. At the time of Secession he received a commission as Commodore in the Confederate Navy.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 101-4

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 4, 1861

The Secretary is still sick. Having nothing better to do, and seeing that eight-tenths of the letters received are merely applications for commissions in the regular army — an organization without men — and none being granted from civil life, I employed myself writing certain articles for the press, hoping by this means to relieve the Secretary of the useless and painful labor of dictating negative replies to numberless communications. This had the sanction of both the President and the Secretary, and produced, in some measure, the desired relief.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 48

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 3, 1861

The Secretary arrived to-day, sick; and was accompanied by Major Tyler, himself unwell. And troops are beginning to arrive in considerable numbers. The precincts of the city will soon be a series of encampments. The regiments are drilled here, and these mostly forwarded to Manassas, where a battle must soon occur, if the enemy, now in overwhelming numbers, should advance. The Northern papers say the Yankee army will celebrate the 4th of July in Richmond. Nous verrons. But no doubt hostilities have commenced. We have accounts of frightful massacres in Missouri, by German mercenaries. Hampton has been occupied by the enemy, a detachment having been sent from Fortress Monroe for that purpose. They also hold Newport News on the Peninsula. There are rumors of a fight at Philippi. One Col. Potterfield was surprised. If this be so, there is no excuse for him. I think the President will make short work of incompetent commanders. Now a blunder is worse than a crime.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 48

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 1, 1861

In the absence of the Secretary, I arranged the furniture as well as I could, and took possession of the five offices I had selected. But no business, of course, could be done before his arrival. Yet an immense mass of business was accumulating — letters by the hundreds were demanding attention.

And I soon found, as the other Secretaries came in, that some dissatisfaction was likely to grow out of the appropriation by the Secretary of War of the best offices. Mr. Toombs said the “war office” might do in any ordinary building; but that the Treasury should appropriately occupy the custom-house, which was fireproof. For his own department, he said he should be satisfied with a room or two anywhere. But my arrangement was not countermanded by the President, to whom I referred all objectors. His decision was to be final — and he did not decide against it. I had given him excellent quarters; and I knew he was in the habit of having frequent interviews both with the Secretary of War and the Adjutant-General, and this would be inconvenient if they were in different buildings.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 46-7

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 28, 1861

Little or no business was done this day. The Secretary announced that no more communications would be considered by him in Montgomery. He placed in my charge a great many unopened letters, and a special list of candidates for office, with annotations. These I packed in my trunk.

As I was to precede the Secretary, and having some knowledge of the capacity of the public buildings in Richmond, I was charged with the duty of securing, if possible, suitable offices for the Department of War. I made hasty preparations for departure.

Before starting, something prompted me to call once more at the post-office, where, to my surprise and delight, I found a letter from my wife. She was in Richmond, with all the children, Tabby and the parrot. She had left Burlington about the same time I had left Richmond. At Havre-de-Grace, on the Susquehanna, which they crossed in the night, my youngest daughter was compelled with difficulty to stride over the sleeping bodies of Yankee soldiers. She writes that she deposited, very carefully, our plate in the bank! The idea that all might have been brought off if she had only known it, is the source of her wretchedness. She writes that she had been materially assisted by Mr. Grubb and his lady, prompted by personal friendship, by humanity, and by those generous instincts of the true nobility of heart imparted by the Creator. Mr. G. is true to the Constitution and the Government under which he lives — and would doubtless never consent to a rupture of the Union under any circumstances. He has a son in the army against us. And Col. Wall, another personal friend, boldly shook hands with my family at parting, while the Wide-Awake file leaders stood scowling by. I hope he may not suffer for his temerity.

These things occupied my thoughts during a sleepless night in the cars. My abode in New Jersey had been a pleasant one. I had a fine yard and garden, and many agreeable neighbors. I loved my garden, and cultivated my own grapes, pears, peaches, apples, raspberries, currants, and strawberries. I had fruits and vegetables in the greatest profusion. And the thrushes and other migratory birds had come to know me well, and sang me to sleep at night, and awakened me with their strains in the morning. They built their nests near the windows, for the house was embowered in trees, and half covered with ivy. Even my cats, for every living thing was a pet to some one of the family, — when I think of them now, wandering about unprotected, give rise to painful emotions. But even my youngest child was willing to make any sacrifice for the sake of her country. The South is our only home — we have been only temporary sojourners elsewhere.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 45-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 26, 1861 – Second Entry

The President is sick to-day — having a chill, I believe. Adjutant-General Cooper was in, comparing notes with the Secretary as to the number of regiments in the field. The Secretary has a most astonishing memory, and could easily number the forces without referring to his notes. The amount is not large, it is true; but, from the eagerness to volunteer, I believe if we had the arms there might soon be organized an army of three or four hundred thousand men. And yet it would seem that no one dreams of armies of such magnitude. Wait till we sleep a little longer! A great many separate companies are accepted; all indeed that offer for three years or the war, provided they have arms—even double-barreled shot-guns and hunting rifles. What a deal of annoyance and labor it will be to organize these into battalions, regiments, brigades, and divisions! And then comes the appointment of staff and field officers. This will be labor for the President. But he works incessantly, sick or well.

We have an agent in Europe purchasing arms. This was well thought on. And Capt. Huse is thought to be a good selection. It will be impossible for Lincoln to keep all our ports hermetically sealed. Hitherto improvident, it is to be hoped the South will now go to work upon her own resources. We have plunged into the sea of revolution, and must, unaided, sink or swim. The Yankees say they are going to subdue us in six months. What fools!

I tasted green corn to-day, and, although very fond of it, I touched it lightly, because it seemed so much out of season. The country around is beautiful, and the birds are singing as merrily as if we were about to enter upon a perennial Sabbath-day, instead of a desolating war. But the gunpowder will be used to destroy the destroyer, man, and why should not the birds sing! The china-trees are beautiful, and abundant about the dwellings.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 44

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 19, 1861

Beauregard telegraphed yesterday (they say, to General Johnston), “Come down and help us, or we shall be crushed by numbers.” The President telegraphed General Johnston to move down to Beauregard's aid. At Bull Run, Bonham's Brigade, Ewell's, and Longstreet's encountered the foe and repulsed him. Six hundred prisoners have been sent here.

I arose, as the Scriptures say, and washed my face and anointed my head and went down-stairs. At the foot of them stood General Cooper, radiant, one finger nervously arranging his shirt collar, or adjusting his neck to it after his fashion. He called out: “Your South Carolina man, Bonham, has done a capital thing at Bull Run — driven back the enemy, if not defeated him; with killed and prisoners,” etc., etc. Clingman came to tell the particulars, and Colonel Smith (one of the trio with Garnett, McClellan, who were sent to Europe to inspect and report on military matters). Poor Garnett is killed. There was cowardice or treachery on the part of natives up there, or some of Governor Letcher's appointments to military posts. I hear all these things said. I do not understand, but it was a fatal business.

Mrs. McLane says she finds we do not believe a word of any news unless it comes in this guise: “A great battle fought. Not one Confederate killed. Enemy’s loss in killed, wounded, and prisoners taken by us, immense.” I was in hopes there would be no battle until Mr. Chesnut was forced to give up his amateur aideship to come and attend to his regular duties in the Congress.

Keitt has come in. He says Bonham's battle was a skirmish of outposts. Joe Davis, Jr., said: “Would Heaven only send us a Napoleon!” Not one bit of use. If Heaven did, Walker would not give him a commission. Mrs. Davis and Mrs. Joe Johnston, “her dear Lydia,” were in fine spirits. The effect upon nous autres was evident; we rallied visibly. South Carolina troops pass every day. They go by with a gay step. Tom Taylor and John Rhett bowed to us from their horses as we leaned out of the windows.

Such shaking of handkerchiefs. We are forever at the windows. It was not such a mere skirmish. We took three rifled cannon and six hundred stands of arms. Mr. Davis has gone to Manassas. He did not let Wigfall know he was going. That ends the delusion of Wigfall's aideship. No mistake to-day. I was too ill to move out of my bed. So they all sat in my room.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 85-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 26, 1861 – First Entry

Was called on by the Episcopal minister to-day, Dr. Sawyer having informed him that I was a member of the church — the doctor being one also. He is an enthusiastic young man, and though a native of the North, seems to sympathize with us very heartily. He prays for the President of the Confederate States. The President himself attends very regularly, and some intimate that he intends to become a candidate for membership.  I have not learned whether he has been baptized. Gen. Cooper, the first on our list of generals in the regular army, is a member of the church. The general was, I think, adjutant-general at Washington. He is Northern born. Major Gorgas is likewise a native of the North. He is Chief of the Bureau of Ordnance. The Quartermaster-General, Major Myers, is said to be a Jew; while the Commissary-General is almost a Jesuit, so zealous is he in the advocacy of the Pope.

Mr. Mallory, the Secretary of the Navy, I have seen but once; but I have heard him soundly abused for not accepting some propositions and plans from Mobile and elsewhere, to build ironclad steam rams to sink the enemy's navy. Some say Mr. M. is an Irishman born. He was in the United States Senate, and embraced secession with the rest of the “conspirators” at Washington.

I saw the Vice-President to-day. I first saw Mr. Stephens at Washington in 1843. I was behind him as he sat in the House of Representatives, and thought him a boy, for he was sitting beside large members. But when I got in front of him, it was apparent he was a man — every inch a man.

There is some excitement in official circles here against Mr. Browne, the Assistant Secretary of State, on the ground that he interfered in behalf of a Mr. Hurlbut, a Northern man (probably arrested), a writer in the English Reviews against slavery in the South, and a correspondent for the New York Tribune. Mr. B. is an Englishman, who came from Washington on the invitation of Mr. Toombs, and through his influence was appointed Assistant Secretary of State, and the Southern gorge rises at it. I doubt whether he will be molested.

I saw Major Tochman to-day, also a foreigner. He is authorized to enlist a regiment or two of Polanders in New Orleans, where I am told there are none.

And there are several Northern men here wanting to be generals. This does not look much like Southern homogeneity. God save us, if we are not to save ourselves!

How hot it is! But I like hot weather better than cold, and would soon become accustomed to this climate. This morning Mr. Hunter really seemed distressed; but he has four inches on his ribs, and I not the eighth of an inch.

Since writing the foregoing, I have seen Mr. Hunter again, and although there is no diminution of heat, he is quite cheerful. Congress has again passed the resolution to remove the seat of government to Richmond, and it is said the President will not veto it this time. The President himself came into our office today and sat some time conversing with Secretary Walker. He did not appear vexed at the determination of Congress, which he must have been apprised of.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 42-4

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 24, 1861

Congress passed, in secret session, a resolution to remove the seat of government to Richmond; but I learn it has been vetoed by the President. There is a strong feeling against going thither among some of the secessionists in the Cotton States. Those who do not think there will be a great deal of fighting, have apprehensions that the border States, so tardy in the secession movement, will strive to monopolize the best positions and patronage of the new government. Indeed, if it were quite certain that there is to be no war for existence — as if a nation could be free without itself striking the blow for freedom — I think there would be a party — among the politicians, not the people — opposed to confederating with the border slave States.

Some of his fellow-members tell many jokes on Mr. Hunter. They say every time he passes the marble-yards going up to the capitol, and surveys the tomb-stones, he groans in agony, and predicts that he will get sick and die here. If this be true, I predict that he will get the seat of government moved to Richmond, a more congenial climate. He has a way of moving large bodies, which has rarely failed him; and some of his friends at the hotels, already begin to hint that he is the proper man to be the first President of the permanent government. I think he will be President some day. He would be a safe one. But this whisper at the hotel has produced no little commotion. Some propose making him Secretary of War, as a sure means of killing him off. I know a better way than that, but I wouldn't suggest it for the world. I like him very much.

To-day the Secretary placed in my hands for examination and report, a very long document, written by a deposed or resigned Roman priest. He urged a plan to avert the horrors of war. He had been to see Lincoln, Gov. Letcher, etc., and finally obtained an interview on “important business” with President Davis. The President, not having leisure even to listen to his exordium, requested him to make his communication briefly in writing. And this was it — about twenty pages of foolscap. It consisted chiefly of evidences of the exceeding wickedness of war, and suggestions that if both belligerents would only forbear to take up arms, the peace might be preserved, and God would mediate between them. Of course I could only indorse on the back “demented.” But the old man hung round the department for a week afterward, and then departed, I know not whither. I forget his name, but his paper is in the archives of the government. I have always differed with the preachers in politics and war, except the Southern preachers who are now in arms against the invader. I think war is one of the providences of God, and certainly no book chronicles so much fighting as the Bible. It may be to the human race what pruning is to vegetation, a necessary process for the general benefit.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 41-2

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 22, 1861

To-day I had, in our office, a specimen of Mr. Memminger's oratory. He was pleading for an installment of the claims of South Carolina on the Confederacy; and Mr. Walker, always hesitating, argued the other side, merely for delay. Both are fine speakers, with most distinct enunciation and musical voices. The demand was audited and paid, amounting, I believe, to several hundred thousand dollars.

And I heard and saw Mr. Toombs to-day, the Secretary of State. He is a portly gentleman, but with the pale face of the student and the marks of a deep thinker. To gaze at him in repose, the casual spectator would suppose, from his neglect of dress, that he was a planter in moderate circumstances, and of course-not gifted with extraordinary powers of intellect; but let him open his mouth, and the delusion vanishes. At the time alluded to he was surrounded by the rest of the cabinet, in our office, and the topic was the policy of the war. He was for taking the initiative, and carrying the war into the enemy's country. And as he warmed with the subject, the man seemed to vanish, and the genius alone was visible, He was most emphatic in the advocacy of his policy, and bold almost to rashness in his denunciations of the merely defensive idea. He was opposed to all delays, as fraught with danger; the enemy were in the field, and their purposes were pronounced. Why wait to see what they meant to do? If we did that, they would not only invade us, but get a permanent foothold on our soil. We must invade or be invaded; and he was for making the war as terrible as possible from the beginning. It was to be no child's play; and nothing could be gained by reliance upon the blunders and forbearance of the Yankees. News had been received of the occupation of Alexandria and Arlington Heights, in Virginia; and if we permitted them to build fortifications there, we should not be able to expel them. He denounced with bitterness the neglect of the authorities in Virginia. The enemy should not have been permitted to cross the Potomac. During the month which had elapsed since the passage of the ordinance in Virginia, nothing had been done, nothing attempted. It was true, the vote on ratification had not been taken; and although that fact might shield the provisional government from responsibility, yet the delay to act was fraught with danger and perhaps irreparable injury. Virginia alone could have raised and thrown across the Potomac 25,000 men, and driven the Yankees beyond the Susquehanna. But she, to avoid responsibility, had been telegraphing Davis to come to the rescue; and if he (Toombs) had been in Davis's place, he would have taken the responsibility.

The Secretary of War well knew how to parry these thrusts; he was not responsible. He was as ultra a man as any; and all he could do was to organize and arm the troops authorized by Congress. Some thirty odd thousand were mustered in already; and at least five thousand volunteers were offering daily. Mr. Toombs said five hundred thousand volunteers ought to be accepted and for the war. We wanted no six or twelve months' men. To this the Secretary replied that the Executive could not transcend the limits prescribed by Congress.

These little discussions were of frequent occurrence; and it soon became apparent that the Secretary of War was destined to be the most important man among the cabinet ministers. His position afforded the best prospect of future distinction — always provided he should be equal to the position, and his administration attended with success. I felt convinced that Toombs would not be long chafing in the cabinet, but that he would seize the first opportunity to repair to the field.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 38-40