Brigadier-General John Sedgwick to his Sister, March16, 1862

Harper's Ferry, March 16, 1862.

My dear sister:

I do not remember from what place I wrote you last. I left here about a week since, expecting to march on Winchester, as it was supposed the enemy were in such force as to give us battle. After making the arrangements to attack the place, the enemy evacuated, and our troops marched in without firing scarcely a gun. Soon after the occupation, my division was ordered to return to this place, where further orders would be received. On our arrival here I telegraphed to Washington, and was directed to await further orders. I presume by to-morrow we shall be on our way to Washington or Annapolis. I am disgusted at the depredations our men are committing — stealing everything they can lay their hands on. I am sorry to say they are supported in it by many of their officers. There is no Union sentiment in this part of the country, and the conduct of our men is calculated to make the enemy more bitter than ever.

We are now in possession of all this valley, and it is likely that enough troops will be left here to hold it. My impression is that this division will go with either General McClellan or will form part of a corps to operate on one of the lines leading to Richmond.

The enemy seem more determined than ever, if you can judge from the tone of their papers. Their policy is not yet developed. Some think they will retire into the Southern States and depend upon the climate to assist them, others that they will give battle this side of Richmond; I am inclined to the latter opinion. All appearances indicate that General McClellan did not overrate their strength or position at Manassas, and that it would have been madness to have attacked them there. If he is let alone he will subdue them; but as for a reunion, that is another matter.

I will write as soon as I know our destination. I hope you have not written. I will tell you where to direct as soon as possible.

With much love, I am,

Your affectionate brother,

J. S.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 39-41

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: July 22, 1861

Both Col. B. and I were in a passion this morning upon finding that the papers had published a dispatch from their own agent at Manassas, stating that the President did not arrive upon the field until the victory was won; and therefore did not participate in the battle at all. From the President's own dispatch, and other circumstances, we had conceived the idea that he was not only present, but had directed the principal operations in the field. The colonel intimated that another paper ought to be established in Richmond, that would do justice to the President; and it was conjectured by some that a scheme was on foot to elect some other man to the Presidency of the permanent government in the autumn. Nevertheless, we learned soon after that the abused correspondent had been pretty nearly correct in his statement. The battle had been won, and the enemy were flying from the field before the President appeared upon it. It had been won by Beauregard, who, however, was materially assisted by his superior in command, Gen. Joseph E. Johnston. Gen. J. remained in the rear, and brought up the reinforcements which gained the day. Beauregard is, to-day, the most popular general in the service. Besides some 500 prisoners, the enemy, it is said, had 4500 killed and wounded. The casualties would have been much greater, if the enemy had not broken and fled. We lost some 2000 men, killed and wounded.

The President returned to-day and made a speech at the Spottswood Hotel, wherein he uttered the famous words: “Never be haughty to the humble, or humble to the haughty.” And he said that no doubt the Confederate flag then floated over Fairfax C. H., and would soon be raised at Alexandria, etc. etc. Never heard I more hearty cheering. Every one believed our banners would wave in the streets of Washington in a few days; that the enemy would be expelled from the District and from Maryland, and that a peace would be consummated on the banks of the Susquehanna or the Schuylkill. The President had pledged himself, on one occasion, to carry the war into the enemy's country, if they would not let us go in peace. Now, in that belief, the people were well pleased with their President.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 65-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: July 21, 1861

The President left the city this morning for Manassas, and we look for a battle immediately. I have always thought he would avail himself of his prerogative as commander-in-chief, and direct in person the most important operations in the field; and, indeed, I have always supposed he was selected to be the Chief of the Confederacy, mainly with a view to this object, as it was generally believed he possessed military genius of a high order. In revolutions like the present, the chief executive occupies a most perilous and precarious position, if he be not a military chieftain, and present on every battle-field of great magnitude. I have faith in President Davis, and believe he will gain great glory in this first mighty conflict.

Early in the evening Secretary Walker returned from tea in great excitement. He strode to and fro in the room where we were sitting, d–––g his office. He said a great battle was then going on, and he wished himself present participating in its perils. Again he denounced the office he filled — and seemed, for a time, almost frantic with anxiety. He said all young men ought to be in the field, and this was understood by those present, who had merely shouldered their pens.

Before long the hall of the department was filled with people eager to hear the news; and as successive dispatches were received, the excitement increased. All the cabinet were in our office; and Hon. Howell Cobb, President of Congress, making deductions from the dispatches, announced his belief that it was a drawn battle. This moved the wrath of Col. Bledsoe, and he denounced Cobb. Mr. Hunter did nothing but listen. It was night, now. Finally, Mr. Benjamin, who had gone to the Spottswood Hotel, where Mrs. Davis resided, returned with news that stopped every detracting tongue. Mrs. D. had just got a dispatch from the President announcing a dearly-bought but glorious victory. Some of the editors of the papers being present, and applying to me for a copy of the dispatch, Mr. Benjamin said he could repeat it from memory, which he did, and I wrote it down for the press. Then joy ruled the hour! The city seemed lifted up, and every one appeared to walk on air. Mr. Hunter's face grew shorter; Mr. Reagan's eyes subsided into their natural size; and Mr. Benjamin's glowed something like Daniel Webster's after taking a pint of brandy. The men in place felt that now they held their offices for life, as the permanent government would soon be ratified by the people, and that the Rubicon had been passed in earnest. We had gained a great victory; and no doubt existed that it would be followed up the next day. If so, the Federal city would inevitably fall into our hands; and this would soon be followed by the expulsion of the enemy from Southern soil. All men seemed to think that the tide of war would roll from that day northward into the enemy's country, until we should win a glorious peace.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 64-5

John Lothrop Motley to Mary Benjamin Motley, Monday, July 22, 1861

Monday, July 22.

The battle was renewed yesterday at Bull Run, and, as I anticipated when I began this letter, the rebel batteries have been carried one after another, and the enemy beaten back to Manassas. A general engagement must now follow at once, unless they retreat toward Richmond. There is no need of my saying anything more, because the papers will give you, by telegraph to Halifax, later intelligence than I can possibly send. Perhaps the success which I now chronicle may not prove to be authentic. Yesterday Mr. William Dwight came over to Woodland Hill, and read us a couple of spirited letters from his son Wilder, major in the Massachusetts Second. It appears, as you will see in the papers, that Patterson has been superseded by Banks. This I hardly understand. Banks has great talent, and has generally succeeded in everything he has undertaken; but he is not an army man, and has had no experience in actual service. We are still in the dark here as to the important fact whether Johnston has retired from Winchester and effected his junction with Beauregard at Manassas, or whether he may still be cut off by the Patterson division moving from Charlestown. Of course you will get this information by Thursday's (25th) telegram to Halifax.

To their great disappointment, no doubt, Gordon's regiment has been detailed from the column to which it belonged, and has been sent from Charlestown to Harper's Ferry. It is a responsible and important duty, and the discipline and energy of this regiment were relied upon to quell all secession at so important a point in the rear, when the great advance was making into the heart of Virginia. But it is a great sell for Gordon and his comrades, for it keeps them for a time at a distance from the great scene of action. Wilder Dwight, in his letter, mentions cases in which the inhabitants of Martinsburg and its vicinity had been maltreated by the rebel army. After the occupation of the place by the Union troops, one evening, a farmer of the vicinity invited Gordon and his officers to supper. He said the rebels took from him and from all his neighbors everything they wanted, and paid nothing for them except receipts in the name of the Confederacy — and “there ain't any Confederacy,” he said. At Harper's Ferry he makes the same report. Women come in and tell of their husbands and sons having been impressed. Men complain of being driven from their homes, and of other maltreatment. And, in short, you have here, from an unimpeachable witness, evidence that, even in Eastern Virginia, the very hotbed of secession, the rebellion is not over-popular, and that the Stars and Stripes are hailed, by some of the inhabitants at least, as the symbols of deliverance from a reign of terror. I shall leave my letter open, in order to add a P. S. to-morrow.

P. S., July 23, 11:30 A. M.

Read this sheet first.

I have had half a dozen minds about sending you the foregoing pages. Since they were written the terrible defeat of Sunday evening has occurred. We are for the moment overwhelmed with gloom. I pity you and my children inexpressibly, to be alone there. On the whole, I have decided to send my letter as it stands. There is no doubt that our troops behaved admirably during the whole of Sunday; that they charged and carried battery after battery of rifled cannon; that the colonels of regiments led on their men on foot, rifle in hand, loading and firing like privates; that our men repeatedly crossed bayonets with the enemy and drove them off the field. This went on for nine hours. In the evening it appears that Johnston effected his junction with Beauregard, and then a panic, commenced by teamsters, together with reporters, members of Congress, and outsiders generally, who had no business on the field at all, was communicated to the troops, who fled in disorder. The accounts are very conflicting as to the behavior of our men after seven o'clock P. M. of Sunday.

There is no doubt that we have sustained a great defeat. The measure of our dishonor, which I thought last night so great as to make me hang my head forever, I cannot now thoroughly estimate. We must wait for the official reports, both as to the number of killed and wounded (which vary for our side from 4000 to 200!), and for the more important matter of deciding whether we have been utterly disgraced as well as defeated. In a brief note which I wrote early this morning I told you that I should send for you to come home immediately. I sympathize most deeply with your position. You have many kind friends — none can be kinder; but the situation admits of no consolation. Do not, however, believe the sensational reports which have harrowed us here yesterday. We were very much outnumbered; that is certain. We fought well the whole of the day, but we were outgeneraled and defeated aftr nine hours' hard fighting. Whether we have lost everything, even honor, cannot be decided for a few days. I shall try to write by the intermediate steamer, but certainly by the next Cunarder, this day week, and I will then let you know what I think you had best do. I don't feel now as if I could come into England again. Don't show this letter to any one. I hope you are not in London, and that you are with the Hugheses.

God bless you and my dear children.

Ever your affectionate

J. L. M.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 187-90

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: July 17, 1861

The news is not so good to-day. Gen. Garnett's small command has been defeated by the superior numbers of Gen. McClellan. But the general himself was killed, fighting in the rear of his retreating men. His example will not be without its effect. Our generals will resolve never to survive a defeat. This will embolden the enemy to attack us at Manassas, where their suddenly acquired confidence will be snuffed out, or I am mistaken.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 63

John Lothrop Motley to Mary Benjamin Motley, July 21, 1861

Woodland Hill, Sunday, July 21, 1861.

My Dearest Mary: I have not the time nor the matter for anything but a hasty line. I am obliged to write two days before the packet day, as I must go to Nahant to-morrow, Monday, and the next day I have promised to dine with old Mr. Quincy, at Quincy. I came up yesterday to dine with Mr. George Curtis and his wife, Ticknor, Everett, and Felton. You will see in the “Daily Advertiser” the proceedings of one or two public bodies by whom respectful tribute has been paid to Mr. Appleton's character. His mind was singularly calm and lucid to the last. On Wednesday I went to Cambridge, by invitation, to hear the exercises of commencement and to be present at the dinner. The performances were very creditable indeed, and I found at the dinner, at which there were some three hundred of the alumni present, several members of my class, and passed a very pleasant hour, the more so as Felton had faithfully promised me that I should not be called out for a speech. As I had received an LL. D. at the previous commencement in my absence, I could hardly refuse the invitation to the dinner. But two degrees of LL. D. were conferred on this occasion — one on Governor Andrew, and the other on General Scott. The announcement, which was made on the platform in the church, after the conclusion of the college exercises, of the governor's name was very well received, and there was much well-deserved cheering, for he has been most efficient and intelligent in his exertions ever since this damnable mutiny broke out, and it is much owing to his energy that Massachusetts has taken the noble stand which she now occupies in defense of the Constitution and the country.

But when the name of Winfield Scott was announced, there arose a tempest of cheers such as I am sure was never heard before at any academic celebration in Cambridge. I thought the church would have split to pieces like a bombshell, so irrepressible was the explosion of enthusiasm. ’T is a pity the old man couldn't have heard it with his own ears. He is used to huzzas from soldiers and politicians; but here were grave professors and clergymen, judges, young undergraduates and octogenarians, all hallooing like lunatics. And the same thing was repeated at the dinner when his health was drunk. You will see an account of the proceedings in the “Daily Advertiser” of the 18th of July.  . . . You will also observe that I was startled from my repose at the table, not by Felton, but by Everett, who made a most complimentary allusion to me far beyond my deserts, in his after-dinner speech. They insisted on my getting up and saying a few words of acknowledgment; but I was too much moved to make a speech, and they received my thanks with much cordiality.

Nothing can be better than Everett's speech at New York, — one of the most powerful commentaries on this rebellion that has ever been spoken or written, — and he has made several other addresses equally strong in tone. We are now in an era of good feeling throughout the North, and we no longer ask what position any man may have occupied, but where he stands now, and I am glad that we shall henceforth have the benefit of Everett's genius and eloquence on the right side.

Since I wrote last nothing very important has occurred; but now important events are fast approaching. I don't use this expression in the stereotype phraseology of the newspapers, because you must have perceived from all my letters that I did not in the least share the impatience of many people here.

The skirmish of the 18th was by detachments, only 800 men in all, of Tyler's brigade, commanded by him in person, and they are said to have behaved with great skill and gallantry. It is your old friend Daniel Tyler of Norwich, who, you know, was for a considerable part of his life in the army and was educated at West Point. He is now a brigadier-general, and, as you see, commands under McDowell, whom I described to you in my last. Montgomery Ritchie, by the way, is aide to a Colonel Blenker, who has a regiment in Tyler's brigade, and James Wadsworth is aide to McDowell. The affair at Bull Run is of no special importance; of course we don't know what losses the rebels sustained, nor is it material. These skirmishes must occur daily, until it appears whether the enemy mean to risk a pitched battle now, or whether they mean to continue to retire, as they have hitherto been steadily doing, before the advance of the Union forces. The question now is, Will they make a stand at Manassas, or will they retreat to Richmond? Beauregard, who commands at Manassas, is supposed to have at least 60,000 men, and Johnston, who was until two days ago at Winchester, is thought to be falling back to join him. On the other hand, while McDowell is advancing toward Manassas, Patterson, with 35,000 men (with whom is Gordon's regiment, Massachusetts Second), has moved from Martinsburg to Charlestown, and, as I thought, will soon make a junction with him, and McClellan is expected daily out of West Virginia. Thus some 120,000 Union troops are converging at Manassas, and if the rebels have sufficient appetite, there will soon be a great stand-up fight.

If they retreat, however, there will be more delays and more impatience, for it is obvious that the Union troops can gain no great victory until the rebels face them in the field. This has not yet been the case, but they have fired from behind batteries occasionally while our men were in the open. Hitherto nothing of importance has occurred except the slow advance of the Union and the slow retreat of the rebellion. Perhaps before this letter is posted, two days hence, something definite may have occurred in the neighborhood of Manassas. Day before yesterday I saw the Webster regiment reviewed on the Common. On the previous afternoon Governor Andrew had invited me to come to his room at the State House. I did so at the time appointed, and found no one there but the governor, his aides, Colonel Harrison Ritchie, Wetherell and Harry Lee, and Mr. Everett, who was to make a speech on presenting the colors to the regiment. I saw them march along Beacon Street in front of the State House, and thought they had a very knowing, soldierly look. They had been drilling for months down at Fort Independence, and are off for the seat of war to-morrow.

When the regiment had arrived on the Common and was drawn up in the Lower Mall, we proceeded to review them. Governor Andrew, in his cocked hat and general's uniform, took possession of Mr. Everett, and the two were flanked by four aides-de-camp, effulgent in what the newspapers call the “gorgeous panoply of war,” while I was collared by the adjutant-general and the stray colonel, and made to march solemnly between them. What the populace thought of me, I don't know, but I believe that I was generally supposed to be a captured secessionist, brought along to grace the triumph of the governor. Well, we marched on, followed by a battalion of escort guards and preceded by a band of music, to the Mall, and then the Webster regiment went through its manœuvers for our benefit, and that of some thousands of enthusiastic spectators besides.

Of course I am no judge of military matters, but they seemed to be admirably drilled, and one or two army officers with whom I spoke were of the same opinion, — one of these, by the way, was a Virginian, Marshall by name, a stanch Union man and nephew of the General Lee of Arlington, who so recently abandoned the side of General Scott for a high post in the rebel army, — but I am at least a judge of men's appearance, and it would be difficult to find a thousand better-looking men with more determined and resolute faces. They wear the uniform of the regular army, and their officers are nearly all young, vigorous men, of good education and social position. I had a little talk with Fletcher Webster, who seemed delighted to see me. Everett made a magnificent little speech on presenting the standard, and Webster a very manly and simple reply. The standard bears for inscription the motto from Webster's (the father's) famous speech, “Not a single stripe polluted, not a single star effaced,” together with the motto of Massachusetts, "Ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem,” i. e., “With the sword she seeks tranquillity under the protection of liberty.” This has been the device of the Massachusetts seal for more than a century, I believe; but it is originally a plagiarism from Algernon Sydney.

I am delighted with all that you tell me of the Duke and Duchess of Argyll and their warm and friendly sympathy; of Lord Granville; of Lord de Grey; of Milnes and Forster and Stirling. I haven't time to mention all the names of those whom you speak of as being stanch in our cause — the great cause of humanity and civilization. To check and circumscribe African slavery, and at the same time to uphold free constitutional government, is a noble task. If the great Republic perishes in the effort, it dies in a good cause. But it isn't dying yet; never had so much blood in it. Qui vivra verra.

You say that I have not mentioned Sumner in my letters. I thought that I had. I saw him two or three times before I went to Washington. He is very well in health and unchanged in opinions or expectations, except that, like all of us, he has been made far more sanguine than ever before as to the issue of the struggle. He came to Washington before I left it, but we did not go together. He has of course remained there for the session. I have heard from him twice or thrice; but as I now write from America, I never quote any one's opinions, but send you my own for what they are worth. In this letter there is little of consequence.

I am delighted with what you say about the sea-coast arrangement with the Hugheses, and trust sincerely that it may be made. You cannot but be happy with such charming, sincere, and noble characters, and I envy you the privilege of their society. Pray thank Hughes for that most sympathetic dedication to Lowell.

I am glad that the book is finished, that I may now read it with the same delight which the first one gave me. I saw Lowell commencement day, and promised to go out and dine with him some day next week. He is going to send for Hawthorne. Alas! he meant to have had Longfellow. We shall have Holmes, Agassiz, and others, and shall drink Hughes's health. I forgot to say that I saw at Felton's house young Brownell of the Ellsworth Zouaves. He, you may remember, was at Ellsworth's side as he came down-stairs at the Marshall House, Alexandria, and was shot dead by Jackson. Brownell, who was a corporal in the regiment, immediately shot Jackson through the head. He has since been made a lieutenant in the army, and is here on recruiting service. He is a very quiet, good-looking youth of about twenty-two. The deed has no especial claim to distinction, except its promptness. You remember that it was at the very first occupation of Alexandria, and Jackson supposed, when he came out of a dark closet and fired at Ellsworth, that secession was still triumphant in the town. Brownell took out of his pocket a fragment of the secession flagstaff which Ellsworth had just taken from the housetop, and gave me a bit of it as a relic. The reason why Ellsworth was so anxious to pull down the flag was that it was visible at the White House of Washington, and therefore an eyesore to the President.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 181-7

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: July 10, 1861

There are indications of military operations on a large scale on the Potomac. We have intelligence that McDowell is making preparations to advance against our forces at Manassas. Gen. Johnston is expected to be there in time; and for that purpose is manœuvring Gen. Patterson out of the way. Our men have caps now — and will be found in readiness. They have short-commons under the Commissary Department; but even with empty stomachs, they can beat the Yankees at the ordeal of dying. Fighting is a sport our men always have an appetite for.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 60

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 18, 1861

The city is content at the evacuation. The people have unbounded confidence in the wisdom of the administration, and the ability of our generals. Beauregard is the especial favorite. The soldiers, now arming daily, are eager for the fray; and it is understood a great battle must come off before many weeks; as it is the determination of the enemy to advance from the vicinity of Washington, where they are rapidly concentrating. But our people must curb their impatience. And yet we dare not make known the condition of the army,—the awful fact which may be stated here—and will not be known until after-years, — that we have not enough ammunition at Manassas to fight a battle. There are not percussion caps enough in our army for a serious skirmish. It will be obviated in a few weeks; and until then I pray there may be no battle. But if the enemy advance, our brave men will give them the cold steel. We must win the first battle at all hazards, and at any cost; and, after that, — how long after? — we must win the last!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 53

Wilder Dwight: July 24, 1861

Harper's Ferry, July 24, 1861.

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

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

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

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

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

Wilder Dwight: Monday Morning, July 22, 1861

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

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

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

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

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

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

Diary of 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

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

charlestown, Va., July 18, 1861.

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

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

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

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 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 Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 7, 1861

This water is making us young again. How these men enjoy the baths. They say Beauregard can stop the way with sixty thousand; that many are coming.

An antique female, with every hair curled and frizzed, said to be a Yankee spy, sits opposite us. Brewster solemnly wondered “with eternity and the judgment to come so near at hand, how she could waste her few remaining minutes curling her hair.” He bade me be very polite, for she would ask me questions. When we were walking away from table, I demanded his approval of my self-control under such trying circumstances. It seems I was not as calm and forbearing as I thought myself. Brewster answered with emphasis: “Do you always carry brickbats like that in your pocket ready for the first word that offends you? You must not do so, when you are with spies from the other side.” I do not feel at all afraid of spies hearing anything through me, for I do not know anything.

But our men could not tarry with us in these cool shades and comfortable quarters, with water unlimited, excellent table, etc. They have gone back to Manassas, and the faithful Brewster with them to bring us the latest news. They left us in excellent spirits, which we shared until they were out of sight. We went with them to Warrenton, and then heard that General Johnston was in full retreat, and that a column was advancing upon Beauregard. So we came back, all forlorn. If our husbands are taken prisoners, what will they do with them? Are they soldiers or traitors?

Mrs. Ould read us a letter from Richmond. How horrified they are there at Joe Johnston's retreating. And the enemies of the War Department accuse Walker of not sending General Johnston ammunition in sufficient quantities; say that is the real cause of his retreat. Now will they not make the ears of that slow-coach, the Secretary of War, buzz?

Mrs. Preston's maid Maria has a way of rushing in — “Don't you hear the cannon?” We fly to the windows, lean out to our waists, pull all the hair away from our ears, but can not hear it. Lincoln wants four hundred millions of money and men in proportion. Can he get them? He will find us a heavy handful. Midnight. I hear Maria's guns.

We are always picking up some good thing of the rough Illinoisan's saying. Lincoln objects to some man — “Oh, he is too interruptious”; that is a horrid style of man or woman, the interruptions. I know the thing, but had no name for it before.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 77-9

Diary of Salmon P. Chase: Saturday, August 2, 1862

At Department all day — went neither to the President's nor the War Department.

Genl. Shields called and talked over movement up the Shenandoah. He told me that when he received peremptory orders to return, he had held communication with Fremont and Jackson's capture was certain. I told him of my urgency that McDowell should be ordered forward with his entire command from Warrenton, per Front Royal, to Charlottesville and Lynchburg; that the President was not ready to act; that McDowell himself was apparently disinclined, preferring concentration at Manassas and then advance to Richmond. Plain enough now, he said, that this was the true movement. He had himself telegraphed McDowell that Jackson would be Pattersonized by recall of troops from pursuit. The troops were, nevertheless, recalled and by peremptory orders from the President himself, those of Shields were directed to return to Manassas and those of Fremont to resume position as a corps of observation.

It was a terrible mistake. It would have been easy to take Charlottesville and Lynchburg — very easy; the capture of Jackson, though not at the time seen at Washington to be practicable was, nevertheless, within easy possibility; his defeat and the dispersion of his force certain. Our troops were called off when they were just upon him. The course of the whole movement was changed, for no reason that I could see. Charlottesville and Lynchburg were saved to the enemy, with their stores and the Rail Roads on which they are situated, forming the great East and West communication of the rebels. A wide door for Jackson to Richmond was opened — the very door through which, a little later, he passed; fell in cooperation with the rebel army at Richmond, on McClellan's right, left unsupported as if to invite disaster; defeated it; and then, with the same army, pursued the Union main body to the James. Sad! sad! yet nobody seems to heed. Genl. Shields and I talked this all over, deploring the strange fatality which seemed to preside over the whole transaction. He dined with us; and after dinner, rode out with brother Edward and Nettie.

1. I. e., weakened as Patterson was by recall of troops to defend Washington the latter part of June 1861.

In the evening, several callers came in. Beebe, from Ravenna, a faithful friend — John R. French — Smith Homans — Chas. Selden — and some others. Selden says that at Cincinnati, old Mr. Molitor and Rev'd. Edw. Purcell spoke very kindly of me.

SOURCE: Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 52-3

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: June 19, 1861

In England Mr. Gregory and Mr. Lyndsey rise to say a good word for us. Heaven reward them; shower down its choicest blessings on their devoted heads, as the fiction folks say.

Barnwell Heyward telegraphed me to meet him at Kingsville, but I was at Cool Spring, Johnny's plantation, and all my clothes were at Sandy Hill, our home in the Sand Hills; so I lost that good opportunity of the very nicest escort to Richmond. Tried to rise above the agonies of every-day life. Read Emerson; too restless — Manassas on the brain.

Russell's letters are filled with rubbish about our wanting an English prince to reign over us. He actually intimates that the noisy arming, drumming, marching, proclaiming at the North, scares us. Yes, as the making of faces and turning of somersaults by the Chinese scared the English.

Mr. Binney¹ has written a letter. It is in the Intelligencer of Philadelphia. He offers Lincoln his life and fortune; all that he has put at Lincoln's disposal to conquer us. Queer; we only want to separate from them, and they put such an inordinate value on us. They are willing to risk all, life and limb, and all their money to keep us, they love us so.

Mr. Chesnut is accused of firing the first shot, and his cousin, an ex-West Pointer, writes in a martial fury. They confounded the best shot made on the Island the day of the picnic with the first shot at Fort Sumter. This last is claimed by Captain James. Others say it was one of the Gibbeses who first fired. But it was Anderson who fired the train which blew up the Union. He slipped into Fort Sumter that night, when we expected to talk it all over. A letter from my husband dated, "Headquarters, Manassas Junction, June 16, 1861":

My Dear Mary: I wrote you a short letter from Richmond last Wednesday, and came here next day. Found the camp all busy and preparing for a vigorous defense. We have here at this camp seven regiments, and in the same command, at posts in the neighborhood, six others — say, ten thousand good men. The General and the men feel confident that they can whip twice that number of the enemy, at least.

I have been in the saddle for two days, all day, with the General, to become familiar with the topography of the country, and the posts he intends to assume, and the communications between them.

We learned General Johnston has evacuated Harper's Ferry, and taken up his position at Winchester, to meet the advancing column of McClellan, and to avoid being cut off by the three columns which were advancing upon him. Neither Johnston nor Beauregard considers Harper's Ferry as very important in a strategic point of view.

I think it most probable that the next battle you will hear of will be between the forces of Johnston and McClellan.

I think what we particularly need is a head in the field — a Major-General to combine and conduct all the forces as well as plan a general and energetic campaign. Still, we have all confidence that we will defeat the enemy whenever and wherever we meet in general engagement. Although the majority of the people just around here are with us, still there are many who are against us.

God bless you.

Yours,

James Chesnut, Jr.

Mary Hammy and myself are off for Richmond. Rev. Mr. Meynardie, of the Methodist persuasion, goes with us. We are to be under his care. War-cloud lowering.

Isaac Hayne, the man who fought a duel with Ben Alston across the dinner-table and yet lives, is the bravest of the brave. He attacks Russell in the Mercury — in the public prints — for saying we wanted an English prince to the fore. Not we, indeed! Every man wants to be at the head of affairs himself. If he can not be king himself, then a republic, of course. It was hardly necessary to do more than laugh at Russell's absurd idea. There was a great deal of the wildest kind of talk at the Mills House. Russell writes candidly enough of the British in India. We can hardly expect him to suppress what is to our detriment.

_______________

¹ Horace Binney, one of the foremost lawyers of Philadelphia, who was closely associated with the literary, scientific, and philanthropic interests of his time. His wife was a sister of Mrs. Chesnut, the author's mother-in-law.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 64-6

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: Sunday, July 21, 1861

We were at church this morning and heard Bishop Meade, on the subject of “Praise.” He and his whole congregation greatly excited. Perhaps there was no one present who had not some near relative at Manassas, and the impression was universal that they were then fighting. This suspense is fearful; but we must possess our souls in patience.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 41

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: July 20, 1861

R. P. arrived to-night from Norfolk. He passed Manassas yesterday, and saw J. very busy with the wounded. The fight of the 18th quite severe; the enemy were very decidedly repulsed; but another battle is imminent. We were shocked by the death of Major C. Harrison. J. wrote to his father. He fears to-morrow may be a bloody Sabbath. Oh, that Providence would now interpose and prevent further bloodshed! Oh, that strength may be given to our men. Let not the enemy overcome them. Oh, God of Nations! have mercy on the South!

The fight on Thursday lasted several hours; our loss was fifteen killed, about forty wounded; in all about eighty to eighty-five missing. It is believed that at least 900 of the enemy were left on the field; 150 of their slightly wounded have been sent to Richmond as prisoners. Their severely wounded are in the hands of our surgeons at Manassas.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 41

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: July 19, 1861

This day is perhaps the most anxious of my life. It is believed that a battle is going on at or near Manassas. Our large household is in a state of feverish anxiety; but we cannot talk of it. Some sit still, and are more quiet than usual; others are trying to employ themselves. N. is reading aloud, trying to interest herself and others; but we are all alike anxious, which is betrayed by the restless eye and sad countenance. Yesterday evening we were startled by the sound of myriads of horses, wheels, and men on the turnpike. We soon found the whole of General Johnston's army was passing by, on its way to join Beauregard, below the mountain. A note from J. M. G., written with a pencil at the Longwood gate, was soon brought in, to say that they would halt at Millwood. The carriages were soon ready, and as many of the family as could go went to Millwood to meet them. I gave up my seat to another, for I felt too sad to meet with those dear boys marching on to such danger. Mr. ____ and the girls went. They saw my nephews, R. C. W. and B. B., and others who were very dear to us. They report them all as in fine spirits. The people all along the road, and in the village of Millwood, went out to meet them with refreshments. While halting at Millwood, General Johnston announced to them that General Beauregard had been successful in a fight the day before, near Manassas, and that another fight was hourly pending. The troops became wild with excitement. It is said that General Patterson has gone to join McDowell. I trust that General Johnston may get there in time. They were passing here from about four in the afternoon until a late hour in the night. After midnight the heavy army wagons were lumbering by, and we ever and anon heard the tap of the drum. We did not retire until all was still, and then none of us slept.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 40-1

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: June 24, 1861

We have been in Winchester for the last two days, at Dr. S's. General Johnston's army encamped at “The Lick.” Some Southern regiments encamped near Winchester. The army at Manassas said to be strongly reinforced. Measles prevailing there, and near Winchester, among the troops. There has been a slight skirmish in Hampshire, on New Creek, and another at Vienna, in Fairfax County. We repulsed the enemy at both places. Captain Kemper, of Alexandria, led our men in the latter fight, and is much extolled for his dexterity and bravery.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 33