Diary of John Hay: October 17, 1861

At Seward’s to-night we met Capt. Schultz who showed very bad taste by alluding to the Chicago Convention and Seward. The President told a good yarn.

One day in Springfield shortly after some of the lower counties had held meetings and passed Resolutions eulogistic of Trumbull, John Wentworth sitting near Lincoln at breakfast one morning, said: — “Lincoln, have you seen them Resolutions?” “I have seen what I suppose you refer to.”

“Them Trumbull fellers are going to trick you again.”

“I don't see any trickery about it, and if there was, there is no way to help the matter.”

“I tell you what, Lincoln,” said John, with a look of unutterable sagacity; “You must do, like Seward does — get a feller to run you.” It was vastly amusing to both the President and Secretary.

The Secretary of State talked about intercepted correspondence, and the double-dealing and lying of our English friends Fergusson and Bourke.

Going to McClellan’s with Banks, they talked about the campaign. McClellan thought the  enemy were massing at Manassas. He said he was not such a fool as to buck against that place in the spot designated by the foe. While there the President received a despatch from Sherman at Annapolis, asking for the 79th New York, the Highlanders. The President was vexed at this, and at Sherman’s intimation that the fleet would not sail before Sunday. McClellan was also bored  by the request, but Seward strongly seconded it. McC. said he would sleep on it.

We came away, the Tycoon still vexed at Sherman. At Seward’s door he turned suddenly and said: — “I think I will telegraph to Sherman that I will not break up McClellan’s command, and that I haven't much hope of his expedition anyway.”

“No,” said Seward, “You won't say discouraging things to a man going off with his life in his hands. Send them some hopeful and cheering despatch.”

The Tycoon came home and this morning telegraphed Sherman: — “I will not break up McClellan’s army without his consent. I do not think I will come to Annapolis.” This was all. I think his petulance very unaccountable.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 44-6; Tyler Dennett, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and Letters of John Hay, p. 28-30.

Major Wilder Dwight: April 11, 1862

camp Near EdinBurg, Virginia, April 11, 1862.

Dear D——, — Reduced in my finances: I have not been paid since January 1. Reduced in my commissariat: we are faring on soldiers' rations, our best luxury being hard aspiration: they have made —— a brigadier; who now would seek promotion? Reduced in ardor: rumor says the Rebels are quitting Virginia. Reduced, in a word, in everything, except size: the final reduction came, when, on Thursday, April 10, I received, on this outpost of invasion, a note from you out of the midst of such congenial and agreeable companionship tantalizing me with the suggestion that I should join you last Monday. I would I had the wings of memory to do it with. But alas! my face is turned toward the south, and my future is in other hands than my own. . . . . We might have hoped to see you, had not the perversity of General Jackson or the ' stratagem ' of General Shields turned us back from Manassas, whither our steps tended a fortnight ago. Well, there is a sequence, perchance a wisdom, in events, that is better than our plans or hopes. I cannot but rejoice that every day seems to bring us nearer to a military success over this Rebellion. The political solution of our difficulties is quite a more serious embarrassment. I see no wisdom in the government, and seem to myself to be fighting in the dark. One thing, however, is clear, — the more sharp and decisive our victory over their forces, the easier will it be to re-establish a wise government over them. . . . . We have had a very hard time since we came into the field in February, and cannot look for much else at present.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 231-2

Major Wilder Dwight: April 6, 1862

camp Near Edinburg, April 6, 1862.

It might be a June morning, by its sunshine and warmth. This broken valley, the “interval” of two sharp, dark-wooded ranges of cuts, itself broken and furrowed by impatient “runs,” as they call every water-flow in Virginia, might be a fitting scene for a pleasure journey. All the air might a Sabbath stillness hold, but another solemn influence is everywhere present. Within a mile of our quiet camp the outposts of two armies are watching one another. The cannon and rifle tone break the silence now and then. If you go down to our line of pickets, you will see the men watching with eager though patient eyes for a good shot; and as the smoke breaks from some cover on the opposite bank of the stream, you may hear a ball whistle near you, and some sentry near by will send his quick reply. I had quite an animated day yesterday. As field-officer of the day, I had charge of our line of outposts. I found in the morning that the Rebel pickets were quite importunate and vexatious. I also thought it important to change the position of some of our pickets; and, in order to do so, desired to reconnoitre the ground. I was soon interrupted in my quiet use of my field-glass by the whistle of bullets following the crack of rifles. The devils had probably worked down through the ravines. I moved my horse quietly under cover of a small house, and could listen to the sound without exposing any other sense. I soon changed my position; and thought, that, as the road went quite too close to the river, I would take the field. But I had not gone far in that direction when a rapid volley assailed me from behind a straw-rick, and I was again led to turn back, more especially as some of the shots seemed to be from some quarter quite too near for security. That is the working of these Rebels. They work themselves into safe covers, and pop away. Even their artillery, from which we have three or four attacks every day, is often so masked that even the smoke fails to disclose it. I leaped my horse over a fence, and made arrangements for my picket on a line a little less exposed. But you can get some idea of the persistency of the devils. They seem to act with a bitter personal hate and venom. In my ride yesterday afternoon I came to a house about which there was a gathering of curious soldiers. The poor woman was in great trouble. The Rebel battery had just thrown two shells through the house, shattering windows and plastering, &c. She was in terror, and her husband was away serving in the army whose missiles had terrified her. “Pa is pressed into the militia,” said the little boy to me. “He's gone away to New Market.” Yet these people explain their misfortunes by our invasion, not by their rebellion. “I wish you'd move your men away or stop their firing,” said a young girl to me at a farm-house. “Our boys'll shell the house sure, if you don't take care.” They cling to their allegiance to their flying army, — and why shouldn't they? It is made up of their brothers and sons and lovers. We find very few men. Indeed, their practical conscription leaves nothing male and able-bodied out of the ranks.

But I must not omit to tell you of my revenge on the men who fired at me. The straw-rick stood just in front of a barn. From the hill on which a section of our battery was posted it was a good mark. On my return to that point I directed a few shell to be thrown there. With lucky aim two of them struck the barn itself; and their explosion had, at least, the result to scatter the men within, who were seen to run back to the woods.

We hear an odd story of an incident in the battle at Winchester. It shows that the Second Regiment has a name in this valley. Probably its long continuance here, and the fact that a flag was given to it at Harper's Ferry, have attracted Rebel attention to it. It is said by some of the soldiers who were in the battle, that when one of the Ohio regiments was broken by the Rebel fire, and faltered a little, some of the Rebels jumped up from the corner of their stone-wall and shouted, “Where's Gordon's bloody Second? Bring it on.” A good deal of curiosity was also expressed by the Rebel wounded and prisoners to know about the regiment, and if it was here. They might any of them have seen it the other day if they would only have waited!

It seems that the Rebels swell their numbers now by a systematic and general compulsion. Such troops will only be an embarrassment to them, I think. But their unscrupulous tyranny spares nothing. An old free negro woman, living in a small hut near our camp, says, “They took away my son last summer to Manassas, and I've had a hard winter without him; but they left me my young son, a poor cripple boy. The other day they come and took him, and my horse and wagon to carry off their sick. He's a poor, weak boy, and all I've got, but they wouldn't spare him to me. I can't help it, but I feel more kind to you all whom I never saw than to them that I was born among.” So she talked on sadly of her troubles.

Look at another picture of this free and happy people, with their patriarchal institutions. Colonel Gordon stopped for the night at a house near Snicker's Ferry. The master was out of the room, and a mulatto slave woman was busy about the table. “You are happy, are you not?” says Colonel G. “No,” with a dull, whining, sad tone in her reply. “Your master's kind to you, isn't he?” “No, he sold my mother fifteen years ago.” That memory and loss had been her life and sorrow for fifteen years, and it would last. Pretty pictures of pastoral content!

“Do not take my corn and grain,” says Mr. Ransom, of Charlestown, a courtly Virginian gentleman. “I've a large family of negroes dependent on me, and I must have enough left to feed them, and to take care of my horses and cows till spring. My poor servants will starve.”

The army moves on; a week passes, and Mr. Ransom may be seen taking care of his single remaining cow and horse. His dependent servants have taken care of themselves, and Mr. Ransom is rubbing his eyes over the abrupt lightening of his burdens. Let us clear our minds of cant, — pro or anti slavery. There is full as much of the former cant as of the latter.

It was Sunday when I began this letter; it is now Monday. We make no movement yet. The Rebel shells have not been thrown among us for a whole day! so life is a little monotonous.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 227-30

Major Wilder Dwight: March 15, 1862

camp Near Winchester, March 15, 1862.

Of all the platitudes and jingles that ever amused and deluded a chivalrous people, the assertion, “You can't subjugate a State,” is the wildest. These people were first subjugated to secession, and now they are rapidly being subjugated back to loyalty. Subjection is what vast numbers of them sigh for. If only they were sure that the Union authority would last. Therein lies McClellan's wisdom. No step backward, is his motto. With such tactics, and with a bold and confident advance, I care not whether we fight battles or follow retreats, though the former is far better, we restore the Union.

I fear the people will regard the retreat from Manassas as a disappointment to our arms, and almost a Rebel success. I fear that they will think McClellan's preparation and generalship wasted. A little patience, however, may show that they are wrong. We have gained an immense moral victory over the Rebellion, and a short time hence we shall begin to see palpable material results. Only let us not, by a sudden and rash revulsion, begin at once to undervalue our foe. Nothing but the presence everywhere, in the seceded States, of Union bayonets will accomplish the Union's restoration. That is a work of some time and struggle, yet it must be done. The most dangerous heresy seems to me to be the suggestion that the States, having gone out, are to be governed as Territories. This involves the admission of the theory we went to war against. Martial law may be necessary within the States for a time; but the State, as well as the national government, is to be restored, or our contest is fruitless. Changes, rapid and unexpected, are the order of the day. Heintzelman's promotion to a corps d’armée leaves open his division. Yesterday, when I went to town, I found that General Hamilton was promoted to the command of that division. He went off yesterday afternoon, regret following him from every one. He is a great loss to us. His departure leaves a brigade vacant; accordingly our regiment is to-day transferred to Hamilton's old brigade, and Colonel Gordon, as senior Colonel, assigned to its command, as Acting Brigadier. This is a pleasing change, and it gives the Colonel room to show himself. It probably, for the present, may find me in command of the regiment, as Colonel Andrews is still on detached duty; but I shall make every exertion to have him returned to the regiment, in justice to him. He has fairly earned the right to the command, and I should not feel content to have him or the regiment deprived of it, though my own personal ambition might be gratified by so desirable a command. I hope I can sink myself in seeking always the welfare of the regiment, and the interest of so faithful an officer and friend as Colonel Andrews. I think more and more, though I am unwilling to write about it, that we missed the cleverest chance at cutting off and bagging Jackson and his force that ever fell in one's way. Caution is the sin of our generals, I am afraid; but military criticism is not graceful, and I will waive it for the present. Yet if you knew how we ache for a chance at fighting, how we feel that our little army corps out in this valley has no hope of it, you would not wonder that a leaden depression rests heavily upon us, as we think of our hesitating and peaceful advent to Winchester. And now why we do not push on upon Jackson at Strasburg passes my limited conjectural capacity to guess. I presume the reason to be that his evanescent tactics would be sure to result in his evaporation before we got there.

This morning a few companies of cavalry, four pieces of artillery, and five companies of infantry, Massachusetts Thirteenth, went out on an armed reconnoissance, and chased Colonel Ashby's cavalry several miles. The cavalry were too quick for them, and our own cavalry has no more chance of catching them than the wagon train has. They are admirably mounted and thoroughly trained. Where our men have to dismount and take down the bars, they fly over fences and across country like birds.

General Banks has just gone off to Washington. Conjecture is busy, again, with “why”? My guess is, that we have outlived our usefulness in the Shenandoah Valley, and that we shall make a cut through the gap into the path of the Grand Army. At any rate, nothing more can happen this side the mountains, and I certainly hope we shall not be absorbed into any force that is to be handled by General Fremont.

Our little town of Berryville is also called, as you may see on some of the maps, Battletown, probably with prescient sarcasm on –––'s anticipated cannonade of that peaceful agricultural implement, the threshing-machine. Who shall say that we are not engaged in the noble task of fulfilling prophecy and making history!

It is now Sunday morning. After two days' cloud and rain, we have bright sunshine. Colonel Andrews comes back to the regiment, and Colonel Gordon assumes his slippery honors as provisional brigadier.

I should like to go to church with you this morning, even in an east wind. Instead of it, however, I must content myself with thinking of you in my wind-swept camp near Winchester. I see that Governor Letcher appoints Winchester as a place of rendezvous for his new levy of militia. I only wish they would obey his order.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 211-3

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 10, 1862

On the very day that Lee gained the signal victory at Manassas, Kirby Smith gained one at Richmond, Kentucky, capturing thousands of prisoners. This is not chance — it is God, to whom all the glory is due.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 152

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: August 29, 1862

Bloody fighting is going on at Manassas. All the news is good for us. It appears that Pope, in his consummate egotism, refused to believe that he had been outwitted, and “pitched into” our corps and divisions, believing them to be merely brigades and regiments. He has been terribly cut up.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 150-1

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: August 31, 1862

Fighting every day at Manassas.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 151

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, March 22, 1862

Raleigh, Virginia, March 22, 1862.

Dearest: — Your letters, 13th and 15th, reached me yesterday. Also the gloves and [percussion] caps. They suit perfectly.

You don't know how I enjoy reading your accounts of the boys. Webb is six years old. Dear little fellow, how he will hate books. Don't be too hard with him. Birch's praying is really beautiful.

We are in the midst of one of the storms so frequent in these mountains. We call it the equinoctial and hope when it is over we shall have settled weather. It is snowing in great flakes which stick to the foliage of the pine and other evergreen trees on the hills, giving the scene in front of the window near me a strangely wintry appearance.

To kill time, I have been reading “Lucile” again, and you may know I think of you constantly and oh, so lovingly as I read. When I read it first we were on the steamer in the St. Lawrence River below Quebec. What a happy trip that was! It increased my affection for you almost as much as my late visit home. Well, well, you know all this. You know “I love you so much.”

We are all feeling very hopeful. We expect to move soon and rapidly, merely because Fremont is commander. I do not see but this war must be soon decided. McClellan seems determined, and I think he is able to force the retreating Manassas army to a battle or to an equally disastrous retreat. A victory there ends the contest. I think we shall be months, perhaps even years, getting all the small parties reduced, but the Rebellion as a great peril menacing the Union will be ended.

General Beckley, whose sword-belt Webby wears, came in and surrendered to me a few days ago. Mrs. Beckley brought me his note. She is a lady of good qualities. Of course, there were tears, etc., etc., which I was glad to relieve. The old general is an educated military gentleman of the old Virginia ways — weak, well-intentioned, and gentlemanly; reminds one of the characters about Chillicothe, from Virginia — probably of less strength of character than most of them. A citizen here described him to Dr. McCurdy as “light of talent but well educated.”

Gray, “the blind soldier” you saw at Camp Chase, is, I notice, on duty and apparently perfectly well. Gray, the orderly, you saw drunk is in good condition again, professing contrition, etc. McKinley is bright and clean, looking his best. Inquires if you see his wife.

So, you go to Fremont. You will once in a while see our men there, too. Some five or six Twenty-third men belong in that region.

You ought to see what a snow-storm is blowing. Whew! I had a tent put up a few days ago for an office. Before I got it occupied the storm came on and now it is split in twain.

Our regiment was never so fine-looking as now. It is fun to see them. No deaths, I believe, for two months and no sickness worth mentioning. Chiefly engaged hunting bushwhackers. Our living is hard, the grub I mean, and likely not to improve. Salt pork and crackers. The armies have swept off all fresh meats and vegetables. A few eggs once in a great while. Love to Grandma and all the boys.

Affectionately, as ever,

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 214-6

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Friday, March 21, 1862

Storm not over yet; snows P. M. . . . News of retreat of enemy after leaving Manassas. If McClellan pursues vigorously he will thrash or destroy them. A victory that crushes the Rebellion as a power. It may be a great annoyance afterwards but nothing more. Vigor, energy now for a few weeks and the thing is done. He (McClellan) ought not to have allowed them to steal away from him, but if he now crushes them he redeems it all and becomes the Nation's idol. I hope he will do it. I do not quite like his views of slavery if I understand them; but his cautious policy if now followed by energy will be vindicated by the event.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 213-4

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Sardis Birchard, March 16, 1862

Camp Hayes, Raleigh, Virginia, March 16, 1862.

Dear Uncle: — I am in most respects pleasantly fixed here. I am here in command of nine companies of the Twenty-third, one section (two guns) of an artillery company (thirty men) and one company of cavalry. We are quartered in the courthouse, churches, and deserted dwellings. It is near the spurs of the Alleghany Mountains, which about twenty miles from here are filled with militia. A few regulars and bushwhackers are just in front of us. We are kept on the alert all the time by such events as the one referred to in the enclosed notes. As a general rule, we get the better of the bushwhackers in these affairs. There is no hesitation on our part in doing what seems to be required for self-protection. Since writing the note enclosed, have done a good deal towards punishing the cowardly bushwhackers.

We have April weather, for the most part — thunder-storms, rain, and shine. Today we are having a winter snow-storm. Since the rumored abandonment of Manassas, we have been notified to be in constant read[i]ness to move. My letters will probably be more irregular than usual after we get started, but all important events occurring with us will be sent you by telegraph. We take the wires with us. Love to all.

Sincerely,

R. B. Hayes.

S. BirCHARD.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 209-10

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Wednesday, March 12, 1862

A bright warm day. I go to Raleigh, bidding good-bye to Fayetteville. We entered Fayetteville either the 13th or 14th of November; four months in one home, not unpleasant months, considering the winter weather of this region. Rode to Fayetteville [slip of pen for Raleigh] on my new bright bay — a good ride. Reached Fayetteville [Raleigh] just as our regiment was forming for dress parade. Eight companies in line looked large. Was greeted warmly. I gave them the news of the evacuation of Manassas and the victory in Arkansas. Three cheers given for the news; three more for General Curtis, and three for the colonel! All seemed pleased to be again together. How well they looked. The band is in capital condition. How I love the Twenty-third. I would rather command it as lieutenant-colonel than to command another regiment as colonel.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 205-6

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Tuesday, March 11, 1862

A warm bright day. Dined at the hospital with our excellent assistant surgeon, Dr. McCurdy. Sent Company E to Raleigh. The last of the Twenty-third quartered in Fayette is gone. Camp Hayes, Raleigh, headquarters henceforth.

Heard of the evacuation of Manassas by the Rebels. If so, it is evidence of a breaking away that almost decides the contest. But how did they do it undisturbed? What was McClellan doing? A great victory over the combined forces of Van Doren, Price, McCulloch, and McIntosh reported to have occurred in Arkansas.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 205

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 2, 1862

Gen. Jos. E. Johnston has certainly made a skillful retrograde movement in the face of the enemy at Manassas. He has been keeping McClellan and his 210,000 men at bay for a long time with about 40,000. After the abandonment of his works it was a long time before the enemy knew he had retrograded. They approached very cautiously, and found that they had been awed by a few Quaker guns — logs of wood in position, and so painted as to resemble cannon. Lord, how the Yankee press will quiz McClellan!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 113

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: February 26, 1862

Congress, in secret session, has authorized the declaration of martial law in this city, and at some few other places. This might be well under other circumstances; but it will not be well if the old general in command should be clothed with powers which he has no qualifications to wield advantageously. The facile old man will do anything the Secretary advises.

Our army is to fall back from Manassas! The Rappahannock is not to be our line of defense. Of course the enemy will soon strike at Richmond from some direction. I have given great offense to some of our people by saying the policy of permitting men to go North at will, will bring the enemy to the gates of the city in ninety days. Several have told me that the prediction has been marked in the Secretary's tablets, and that I am marked for destruction if it be not verified. I reply that I would rather be destroyed than that it should be fulfilled.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 111-2

Captain Charles Fessenden Morse, September 1, 1862

Bivouac Between

Centreville And Bull Run,

September 1, 1862.

We have been moving around for the last two days in about the same style as heretofore. Yesterday morning, we were routed out early and marched, by a very wide detour, thirteen miles to this place, the enemy having pushed a large force between us and our main body. We were fortunate to get off as safely as we did, as the enemy came into our old camp as the rear of our column moved out of it. We had to destroy a railroad train nearly a mile long, to prevent its falling into their hands. There was any quantity of clothing, hospital stores and nice things furnished by the Sanitary Commission, on board; all these were burned. I can't learn anything about what has taken place the last few days; I only know we have been fighting severely. I judge, by our movements, that our left has been driven back. We have passed over two battle-fields in our marches; one of them covered some of the old Bull Run ground. We passed yesterday some of the winter quarters of the rebels. Their houses looked very comfortable, but of all dreary places on the face of the globe, I cannot imagine a drearier one than the Plain of Manassas. For miles and miles, almost to the Rappahannock, these great rolling plains extend, some times covered with woods, but mostly with high, coarse weeds and rank grass. There is very little population, only a house here and there at intervals of a mile or more.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 84-5

Major Wilder Dwight: September 26, 1861

September 26.

Cold weather seems to have set in upon us. I hope our Rebel brothers the other side of the Potomac are suffering the same cold nights that we have. Such weather will do more to drive them from Manassas than much artillery.

There is a lull now. O for a tempest! I am glad Howard seems likely to accomplish his best object. Had he not better use a day in a visit to me on his way West?

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 106

Major Wilder Dwight to Elizabeth White Dwight, September 7, 1861

pleasant Hill, Camp Near Darnestown,

Saturday, September 7, 1861.

Dear Mother, — Twice within three days we have been abruptly summoned to get into marching array. Twice has the order been countermanded. This morning at three o'clock I was waked to open my eyes upon the misty starlight by an orderly from head-quarters.

He brought the order: “The enemy have broken up their camp at Manassas, and are moving. Get everything in readiness to start. If a signal-light is exhibited at headquarters, let the long roll be beaten and the regiment get under arms at once.” Colonel Gordon is in Washington. Colonel Andrews gave quietly the necessary orders, and then both he and I composed ourselves to sleep. We have learnt that excitement is useless and unprofitable. Besides, composure is so graceful, and withal comfortable, at that hour. But, seriously, these successive alarms have become the habit of our lives. One of these days perchance the wolf will come. But this morning there are no new orders, and no immediate prospect of a start. Movement must come, however, shortly, and I confess I am impatient for its coming. Just now, perhaps, I can be content to wait. My horse did me the ill turn to fall with me the other day. I was urging him hastily down hill, and he stumbled and went down. He chafed my leg a little, and so I am lying still to-day to get well. To-morrow both he and I will be firmly on our legs again, and it may well happen that we shall both need them. I was sorry to hear of your cold. It is such a bad companion for August. You should come and live in a tent, and then you would cease to have any of the ills that follow close rooms, warm beds, coal fires, and the other accidents of civilized life in times of peace. . . . . It is a sultry morning, and the air moves listlessly through my tent. I am reclining orientally, and the Doctor has just been making an application to my bruise. He has also been chatting pleasantly for half an hour, and so has broken what little thread belonged to my story. It is well that it is so, for the life of the past few days does not need a chronicler. We all expect something coming, but do not know what or when. I confess I enjoy a few days for the study of tactics and attention to military matters. The theory slips out of sight in the tread-mill of daily duty.

I glanced at an article in the Atlantic Monthly this morning on “The Advantages of Defeat.” I cannot agree to its positions. American soldiers, — let the fact be plainly stated,— American soldiers will only become efficient in proportion as they abandon their national theories and give themselves up obediently to the military laws which have always governed the successful prosecution of war. “The incurable habit of insubordination of the citizen,” as the Saturday Review has it, in a capital article, “cannot be transferred to the soldier.” To-day our army is crippled by the ideas of equality and independence which have colored the whole life of our people. Men elect their officers, and then expect them to behave themselves! Obedience is permissive, not compelled, and the radical basis is wrong. We have to struggle against the evil tendencies of this contagion. When this defect is cured, and men recognize authority and obey without knowing why, — obey from habit and instinct, not from any process of reasoning or presumed consent, — we shall begin to get an army. It is only necessary to appreciate the fact that, in war, one will must act through all the others, to see that American soldiers, with all their presumed intelligence and skill, have the one lesson yet to learn. So for my preachment. Here appears Colonel Gordon, returned suddenly from Washington. The enemy are moving somewhither, and of course he rejoins his regiment The obvious weaknesses of delay may drive the Rebels to offensive action. If so, Heaven send them across the river between us and Washington, so that we may have a part in the great battle that crushes them. And yet I cannot believe that any such chance will come to us. Speculation, however, is worthless, on a matter which will have decided itself long before the speculation can reach you.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 96-8

Charlotte Cross Wigfall to Louise Wigfall, July 21, 1861

RICHMOND, July 21st.

No news except that Gen. Johnston has joined Beauregard with a large force. A part of his troops are left still at Winchester, but the greater part are with him. The President went down to-day, but I don't know exactly in what capacity, whether he will command or not.  . . . The troops are pouring in, and a general battle at Manassas is expected very soon. We brought up by one train, upwards of 50 prisoners brought from Winchester, and crowds gathered on the way, at every roadside station, to see “the Yankees.” I was almost sorry for them.

9 o'clock. You will have heard that we have gained a second victory, and a “glorious though a dear bought one,” Mr. Davis telegraphs, at Manassas. Only some of the deaths are known as yet; Lieut. Colonel Johnson of the Hampton Legion and poor Col. Bartow they say are killed; Wade Hampton slightly wounded. All Beauregard's staff are safe. Poor Mrs. Bartow is here, but does not yet know the sad tidings. The enemy they say were in full retreat. All is excitement here and the people seem almost wild.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 73

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 26, 1861

Had a conversation with the Secretary today, on the policy of sending Union men out of the Confederacy. I told him we had 15,000 sick in the hospitals at Manassas, and this intelligence might embolden the enemy to advance, capture the hospitals, and make our sick men prisoners. He said such prisoners would be a burden to them, and a relief to us. I remarked that they would count as prisoners in making exchanges; and to abandon them in that manner, would have a discouraging effect on our troops. He said that sending unfriendly persons out of the country was in conformity with the spirit of the act of Congress, and recommended me to reperuse it and make explanations to the people, who were becoming clamorous for some restriction on the egress of spies.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 81

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 19, 1861

We hear of several splendid dashes of cavalry near Manassas, under Col. Stuart; and Wise's cavalry in the West are doing good service.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 80