Diary of Gideon Welles: May 2, 1865

A very protracted session of the Cabinet. The chief subject was the Treasury regulations. There was unanimity, except McCulloch, who clings to the schemes of Chase and Fessenden. The latter can, however, hardly be said to have schemes of his own. But the policy of Chase and his tools, which F. adopted, is adhered to by McCulloch, who is new in place and fears to strike out a policy of his own. He fears to pursue any other course than the one which has been prescribed.

McCulloch is a correct man in business routine but is not an experienced politician or educated statesman. He wants experience in those respects, and needs grasp and power to extricate himself from among a rotten and corrupt swarm of leeches who have been planted in the Treasury. Some legal points being raised, the subject was referred to Attorney-General Speed to examine and report.

Stanton produced a paper from Judge-Advocate-General Holt, to the effect that Jeff Davis, Jacob Thompson, Sanders,¹ and others were implicated in the conspiracy to assassinate President Lincoln and others. A proclamation duly prepared was submitted by Stanton with this paper of Holt, which he fully indorses, offering rewards for their apprehension. McCulloch and Hunter, whose opinions were asked, went with Stanton without a question. I, on being asked, remarked if there was proof of the complicity of those men, as stated there was, they certainly ought to be arrested, and that reward was proper, but I had no facts.

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¹ George N. Sanders, a Confederate agent in Canada.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 2: April 1, 1864 — December 31, 1866, p. 299-300

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

Edwin M. Stanton to Major-General John A. Dix, April 8, 1861

Washington, April 8,1861.

Dear Sir, — I am as much in the dark as yourself in regard to the actions and designs of the present administration.

This city has been in a great state of excitement about the military and naval movements of the last few days, and no one but the officers of government know their purpose. In this respect they have a great advantage over the last administration, because the Secessionists have now no representative in the Cabinet or kitchen. I saw Mr. Holt last evening, and he is also ignorant of the object of the active preparations going on. He made, however, this suggestion, that the Confederate Government refuses to allow a simple evacuation of Fort Sumter, but requires an ignominious surrender. That the administration will fight before submitting to such a condition. If this be the reason, I am with the administration on that point. And although Mr. Holt says he knows nothing about it, the shrewdness of the guess leads me to think he has received some information. So far as Chase is concerned, I do not think there has been anything unfair or concealed in his action. The loan turned oat better than I expected, and had I been Secretary, I would have taken the whole eight millions on the terms offered, rather than risk the chances of the times. I have no doubt there has been a settled purpose to evacuate Sumter, and that the delay has arisen from the terms required by the Confederates. The country would stand war, rather than see Anderson a captive, or required to haul down his flag. The administration will also hold on to Pickens, and aid Houston in Texas.

I do not think peaceful relations will continue much longer; nor do I think hostilities will be so great an evil as many apprehend. A round or two often serves to restore harmony; and the vast consumption required by a state of hostilities will enrich rather than impoverish the North.

The best joke I have known lately is a note from Twiggs to Holt in respect to the epithets contained in his order of dismissal. Twiggs don't like them. How would he relish the original order? I have not heard from Wheatland since you were here. Mrs. Stanton and your juvenile friend are well. Mrs. S. and L. shall visit New York in a few weeks, unless Ben McCullough should capture us before long.

The herds of office-seekers still throng the city.

With sincere regards, I remain, yours truly,

Edwin M. Stanton.

Hon. John A. Dix.

SOURCE: Morgan Dix, Memoirs of John Adams Dix, Volume 2, p. 4-5

Charlotte Cross Wigfall to Louise Wigfall March 29, 1861

Richmond., March 29, 1861.

We got here Tuesday . . . and are staying at the Spotswood House. Mr. McCulloch is here to buy arms for Texas, and your father is assisting him in making the arrangements necessary.  . . . I see by today's paper that the Senate has adjourned and what is more is that Sumter has not yet been evacuated. I don't believe Jeff Davis will allow them to trifle with him much longer, and should not be surprised at any time to hear that he was preparing to take it.  . . . I attended the Convention yesterday.  . . . The friends of secession seem confident that Virginia will join the South, but differ about the time. We went to an elegant dinner yesterday given to us by Mr. & Mrs. Lyons. The party was composed of twenty, and among them were Mr. Tyler, Mr. McCulloch, etc. Mrs. Lyons is one of the loveliest people I have seen in a long time. Mr. Lyons told me that the people here would never allow the removal of the guns that have been ordered to be sent to Fortress Monroe. He said there were about fifty of them, and it was fully determined that the order should not be executed. I think they are some miles from this city and would have to pass through here to get to Old Point. This is a fine looking old place, and reminds me of Charleston.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 34-5

Diary of Louise Wigfall: March 24, 1861

My mother says: “Your father has gone over to-day to Alexandria to meet McCulloch. McCulloch arrived here last night and went right to Mr. Gwin's. It was deemed imprudent by his friends for him to remain in Washington on account of the part he took about the Forts in Texas, and they advised him to go to Alexandria, so your father has gone there to see him.  . . . No news has yet come of the evacuation of Fort Sumter."

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 34

Diary of William Howard Russell: April 10, 1861

To-day I devoted to packing up such things as I did not require, and sending them to New York. I received a characteristic note from General Scott, asking me to dine with him to-morrow, and apologizing for the shortness of his invitation, which arose from his only having just heard that I was about to leave so soon for the South. The General is much admired by his countrymen, though they do not spare some “amiable weaknesses;” but, in my mind, he can only be accused of a little vanity, which is often found in characters of the highest standard. He likes to display his reading, and is troubled with a desire to indulge in fine writing. Some time ago he wrote a long letter to the “National Intelligencer,” in which he quoted Shakespeare and Paley to prove that President Buchanan ought to have garrisoned the forts at Charleston and Pensacola, as he advised him to do; and he has been the victim of poetic aspirations. The General’s dinner hour was early; and when I arrived at his modest lodgings, which, however, were in the house of a famous French cook, I found a troop of mounted volunteers of the district, parading up and down the street. They were not bad of their class, and the horses, though light, were active, hardy, and spirited; but the men put on their uniforms badly, wore long hair, their coats and buttons and boots were unbrushed, and the horses' coats and accoutrements bore evidence of neglect. The General, who wore an undress blue frock-coat, with eagle-covered brass buttons, and velvet collar and cuffs, was with Mr. Seward and Mr. Bates, the Attorney-General, and received me very courteously. He was interrupted by cheering from the soldiers in the street, and by clamors for “General Scott.” He moves with difficulty, owing to a fall from his horse, and from the pressure of increasing years; and he evidently would not have gone out if he could have avoided it. But there is no privacy for public men in America.

But the General went to them, and addressed a few words to his audience in the usual style about “rallying round,” and “dying gloriously,” and “old flag of our country,” and all that kind of thing; after which, the band struck up “Yankee Doodle.” Mr. Seward called, out, “General, make them play the ‘Star-Spangled Banner,’ and ‘Hail Columbia.’” And so I was treated to the strains of the old bacchanalian chant, “When Bibo,” &c, which the Americans have impressed to do duty as a national air. Then came an attempt to play “God save the Queen,” which I duly appreciated as a compliment; and then followed dinner, which did credit to the cook, and wine, which was most excellent, from France, Spain, and Madeira. The only addition to our party was Major Cullum, aide-de-camp to General Scott, an United States' engineer, educated at West Point. The General underwent a little badinage about the phrase “a hasty plate of soup,” which he used in one of his despatches during the Mexican War, and he appealed to me to decide whether it was so erroneous or ridiculous as Mr. Seward insisted. I said I was not a judge, but certainly similar liberal usage of a well-known figure of prosody might be found to justify the phrase. The only attendants at table were the General's English valet and a colored servant; and the table apparatus which bore such good things was simple and unpretending. Of course the conversation was of a general character, and the General, evidently picking out his words with great precision, took the lead in it, telling anecdotes of great length, graced now and then with episodes, and fortified by such episodes as — “Bear with me, dear sir, for a while, that I may here diverge from the main current of my story, and proceed to mention a curious” &c, and so on.

To me his conversation was very interesting, particularly that portion which referred to his part in the last war, where he was wounded and taken prisoner. He gave an account of the Battle of Chippewa, which was, he said, fought on true scientific principles; and in the ignorance common to most Englishmen of reverses to their arms, I was injudicious enough, when the battle was at its height, and whole masses of men were moving in battalions and columns over the table, to ask how many were engaged. The General made the most of his side: “We had, sir, twenty-one hundred and seventy-five men in the field.” He told us how, when the British men-of-war provoked general indignation in Virginia by searching American vessels for deserters in the Chesapeake, the State of Virginia organized a volunteer force to guard the shores, and, above all things, to prevent the country people sending down supplies to the vessels, in pursuance of the orders of the Legislature and Governor. Young Scott, then reading for the bar, became corporal of a troop of these patrols. One night, as they were on duty by the banks of the Potomac, they heard a boat with muffled oars coming rapidly down the river, and soon saw her approaching quite close to the shore under cover of the trees. When she was abreast of the troopers, Scott challenged “What boat is that?””It's His Majesty's ship ‘Leopard,’ and what the d----- is that to you? Give way, my lads!” “I at once called on him to surrender,” said the General, “and giving the word to charge, we dashed into the water. Fortunately, it was not deep, and the midshipman in charge, taken by surprise by a superior force, did not attempt to resist us. We found the boat manned by four sailors, and filled with vegetables and other supplies, and took possession of it; and I believe it is the first instance of a man-of-war's boat being captured by cavalry. The Legislature of Virginia, however, did not approve of the capture, and the officer was given up accordingly.

“Many years afterwards, when I visited Europe, I happened to be dining at the hospitable mansion of Lord Holland, and observed during the banquet that a gentleman at table was scrutinizing my countenance in a manner indicative of some special curiosity. Several times, as my eye wandered in his direction, I perceived that he had been continuing his investigations, and at length I rebuked him by a continuous glance. After dinner, this gentleman came round to me and said, ‘General Scott, I hope you will pardon my rudeness in staring at you, but the fact is that you bear a most remarkable resemblance to a great overgrown, clumsy country fellow of the same name, who took me prisoner in my boat when I was a midshipman in the “Chesapeake,” at the head of a body of mounted men. He was, I remember quite well, Corporal Scott.’ ‘That Corporal Scott, sir, and the individual who addresses you, are identical one with the other.’ The officer whose acquaintance I thus so auspiciously renewed, was Captain Fox, a relation of Lord Holland, and a post-captain in the British navy.”

Whilst he was speaking, a telegraphic despatch was brought in, which the General perused with evident uneasiness. He apologized to me for reading it by saying the despatch was from the President on Cabinet business, and then handed it across the table to Mr. Seward. The Secretary read it, and became a little agitated, and raised his eyes inquiringly to the General's face, who only shook his head. Then the paper was given to Mr. Bates, who read it, and gave a grunt, as it were, of surprise. The General took back the paper, read it twice over, and then folded it up and put it in his pocket. “You had better not put it there, General,” interposed Mr. Seward; “it will be getting lost, or in some other hands.” And so the General seemed to think, for he immediately threw it into the fire, before which certain bottles of claret were gently mellowing.

The communication was evidently of a very unpleasant character. In order to give the Ministers opportunity for a conference, I asked Major Cullum to accompany me into the garden, and lighted a cigar. As I was walking about in the twilight, I observed two figures at the end of the little enclosure, standing as if in concealment close to the wall. Major Cullum said, “The men you see are sentries I have thought it expedient to place there for the protection of the General. The villains might assassinate him, and would do it in a moment if they could. He would not hear of a guard, nor anything of the sort, so, without his knowing it, I have sentries posted all round the house all night. This was a curious state of things for the commander of the American army, in the midst of a crowded city, the capital of the free and enlightened Republic, to be placed in! On our return to the sitting-room, the conversation was continued some hour or so longer. I retired with Mr. Seward in his carriage. As we were going up Pennsylvania Avenue — almost lifeless at that time — I asked Mr. Seward whether he felt quite secure against any irruption from Virginia, as it was reported that one Ben McCullough, the famous Texan desperado, had assembled 500 men at Richmond for some daring enterprise: some said to carry off the President, cabinet, and all. He replied that, although the capital was almost defenceless, it must be remembered that the bold bad men who were their enemies were equally unprepared for active measures of aggression.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 72-5

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: August 25, 1861

I believe the Secretary will resign; but “immediate” still lies on his table.

News of a battle near Springfield, Mo. McCulloch and Price defeat the Federals, killing and wounding thousands. Gen. Lyon killed.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 75

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 5, 1862

Drove out with Mrs. “Constitution” Browne, who told us the story of Ben McCulloch's devotion to Lucy Gwynn. Poor Ben McCulloch — another dead hero. Called at the Tognos' and saw no one; no wonder. They say Ascelie Togno was to have been married to Grimké Rhett in August, and he is dead on the battle-field. I had not heard of the engagement before I went there.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 200

Diary of William Howard Russell: Monday, April 2, 1861

The following day I started early, and performed my pilgrimage to “the shrine of St. Washington,” at Mount Vernon, as a foreigner on board called the place. Mr. Bancroft has in his possession a letter of the General's mother, in which she expresses her gratification at his leaving the British army in a manner which implies that he had been either extravagant in his expenses or wild in his manner of living. But if he had any human frailties in after life, they neither offended the morality of his age, nor shocked the susceptibility of his countrymen; and from the time that the much maligned and unfortunate Braddock gave scope to his ability, down to his retirement into private life, after a career of singular trials and extraordinary successes, his character acquired each day greater altitude, strength, and lustre. Had his work failed, had the Republic broken up into small anarchical states, we should hear now little of Washington. But the principles of liberty founded in the original Constitution of the colonies themselves, and in no degree derived from or dependent on the Revolution, combined with the sufferings of the Old and the bounty of nature in the New World to carry to an unprecedented degree the material prosperity, which Americans have mistaken for good government, and the physical comforts which have made some States in the Union the nearest approach to Utopia. The Federal Government hitherto “let the people alone” and they went on their way singing and praising their Washington as the author of so much greatness and happiness. To doubt his superiority to any man of woman born, is to insult the American people. They are not content with his being great — or even greater than the great: he must be greatest of all; — “first in peace, and first in war.” The rest of the world cannot find fault with the assertion, that he is “first in the hearts of his countrymen.” But he was not possessed of the highest military qualities, if we are to judge from most of the regular actions, in which the British had the best of it; and the final blow, when Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown, was struck by the arm of France, by Rochambeau and the French fleet, rather than by Washington and his Americans. He had all the qualities for the work for which he was designed, and is fairly entitled to the position his countrymen have given him as the immortal czar of the United States. His pictures are visible everywhere — in the humblest inn, in the Minister's bureau, in the millionnaire's gallery. There are far more engravings of Washington in America than there are of Napoleon in France, and that is saying a good deal.

What have we here? The steamer which has been paddling down the gentle current of the Potomac, here a mile and more in breadth, banked in by forest, through which can be seen homesteads and white farm-houses, in the midst of large clearings and corn-fields — has moved in towards a high bluff, covered with trees, on the summit of which is visible the trace of some sort of building — a ruined summer-house, rustic temple — whatever it may be; and the bell on deck begins to toll solemnly, and some of the pilgrims uncover their heads for a moment. The boat stops at a rotten, tumbledown little pier, which leads to a waste of mud, and a path rudely cut through the wilderness of briers on the hill-side. The pilgrims, of whom there are some thirty or forty, of both sexes, mostly belonging to the lower classes of citizens, and comprising a few foreigners like myself, proceed to climb this steep, which seemed in a state of nature covered with primeval forest, and tangled weeds and briers, till the plateau, on which stands the house of Washington and the domestic offices around it, is reached. It is an oblong wooden house, of two stories in height, with a colonnade towards the river face, and a small balcony on the top and on the level of the roof, over which rises a little paltry gazebo. There are two windows, a glass door at one end of the oblong, and a wooden alcove extending towards the slave quarters, which are very small sentry-box huts, that have been recently painted, and stand at right angles to the end of the house, with dog-houses and poultry-hutches attached to them. There is no attempt at neatness or order about the place; though the exterior of the house is undergoing repair, the grass is unkempt, the shrubs untrimmed, — neglect, squalor, and chicken feathers have marked the lawn for their own. The house is in keeping, and threatens to fall to ruin. I entered the door, and found myself in a small hall, stained with tobacco juice. An iron railing ran across the entrance to the stairs. Here stood a man at a gate, who presented a book to the visitors, and pointed out the notice therein, that “no person is permitted to inscribe his name in this book who does not contribute to the Washington Fund, and that any name put down without money would be erased.” Notwithstanding the warning, some patriots succeeded in recording their names without any pecuniary mulct, and others did so at a most reasonable rate. When I had contributed in a manner which must have represented an immense amount of Washingtoniolatry, estimated by the standard of the day, I was informed I could not go up-stairs as the rooms above were closed to the public, and thus the most interesting portion of the house was shut from the strangers. The lower rooms presented nothing worthy of notice —some lumbering, dusty, decayed furniture; a broken harpsichord, dust, cobwebs — no remnant of the man himself. But over the door of one room hung the key of the Bastille.*  The gardens, too, were tabooed; but through the gate I could see a wilderness of neglected trees and shrubs, not unmingled with a suspicion of a present kitchen-ground. Let us pass to the Tomb, which is some distance from the house, beneath the shade of some fine trees. It is a plain brick mausoleum, with a pointed arch, barred by an iron grating, through which the light penetrates a chamber or small room containing two sarcophagi of stone. Over the arch, on a slab let into the brick, are the words: “Within this enclosure rest the remains of Gen. George Washington.” The fallen leaves which had drifted into the chamber rested thickly on the floor, and were piled up on the sarcophagi, and it was difficult to determine which was the hero's grave without the aid of an expert, but there was neither guide nor guardian on the spot. Some four or five gravestones, of various members of the family, stand in the ground outside the little mausoleum. The place was most depressing. One felt angry with a people whose lip service was accompanied by so little of actual respect. The owner of this property, inherited from the “Pater Patriӕ,” has been abused in good set terms because he asked its value from the country which has been so very mindful of the services of his ancestor, and which is now erecting by slow stages the overgrown Cleopatra's needle that is to be a Washington Monument when it is finished. Mr. Everett has been lecturing, the Ladies' Mount Vernon Association has been working, and every one has been adjuring everybody else to give liberally; but the result so lately achieved is by no means worthy of the object. Perhaps the Americans think it is enough to say — “Si monumentum quӕris, circumspice" But, at all events, there is a St. Paul's round those words.

On the return of the steamer I visited Fort Washington, which is situated on the left bank of the Potomac. I found everything in a state of neglect — gun-carriages rotten, shot piles rusty, furnaces tumbling to pieces. The place might be made strong enough on the river front, but the rear is weak, though there is low marshy land at the back. A company of regulars were on duty. The sentries took no precautions against surprise. Twenty determined men, armed with revolvers, could have taken the whole work; and, for all the authorities knew, we might have had that number of Virginians and the famous Ben McCullough himself on board. Afterwards, when I ventured to make a remark to General Scott as to the carelessness of the garrison, he said: “A few weeks ago it might have been taken by a bottle of whiskey. The whole garrison consisted of an old Irish pensioner.” Now at this very moment Washington is full of rumors of desperate descents on the capital, and an attack on the President and his Cabinet. The long bridge across the Potomac into Virginia is guarded, and the militia and volunteers of the District of Columbia are to be called out to resist McCullough and his Richmond desperadoes.

_______________

* Since borrowed, it is supposed, by Mr. Seward, and handed over by him to Mr. Stanton. Lafayette gave it to Washington; he also gave his name to the Fort which has played so conspicuous a part in the war for liberty — “La liberté des deux mondes,” might well sigh if he could see his work, and what it has led to.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 55-9

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 23, 1861

To-day the President took the cars for Pensacola, where it had been said everything was in readiness for an assault on Fort Pickens. Military men said it could be taken, and Toombs, I think, said it ought to be taken. It would cost, perhaps, a thousand lives; but is it not the business of war to consume human life? Napoleon counted men as so much powder to be consumed; and he consumed millions in his career of conquest. But still he conquered, which he could not have done without the consumption of life. And is it not better to consume life rapidly, and attain results quickly, than to await events, when all history shows that a protracted war, of immobile armies, always engulfs more men in the grave from camp fevers than usually fall in battle during the most active operations in the field?

To-day I saw Col. Bartow, who has the bearing and eye of a gallant officer. He was attended by a young man named Lamar, of fine open countenance, whom he desired to have as his aid; but the regulations forbid any one acting in that capacity who was not a lieutenant; and Lamar not being old enough to have a commission, he said he would attend the colonel as a volunteer aid till he attained the prescribed age. I saw Ben McCulloch, also — an unassuming but elastic and brave man. He will make his mark. Also Capt. McIntosh, who goes to the West. I think I saw him in 1846, in Paris, at the table of Mr. King, our Minister; but I had no opportunity to ask him. He is all enthusiasm, and will rise with honor or fall with glory. And here I beheld for the first time Wade Hampton; resolved to abandon all the comforts of his great wealth, and encounter the privations of the tented field in behalf of his menaced country.

Arkansas and Tennessee, as I predicted, have followed the example of Virginia and North Carolina; and I see evidence daily in the mass of correspondence, that Missouri and Kentucky will follow in good time.

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

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: May 9, 1861

Virginia Commissioners here. Mr. Staples and Mr. Edmonston came to see me. They say Virginia “has no grievance; she comes out on a point of honor; could she stand by and see her sovereign sister States invaded?”

Sumter Anderson has been offered a Kentucky regiment. Can they raise a regiment in Kentucky against us? In Kentucky, our sister State?

Suddenly General Beauregard and his aide (the last left him of the galaxy who surrounded him in Charleston), John Manning, have gone — Heaven knows where, but out on a war-path certainly. Governor Manning called himself “the last rose of summer left blooming alone” of that fancy staff. A new fight will gather them again. Ben McCulloch, the Texas Ranger, is here, and Mr. Ward,¹ my “Gutta Percha” friend's colleague from Texas. Senator Ward in appearance is the exact opposite of Senator Hemphill. The latter, with the face of an old man, has the hair of a boy of twenty. Mr. Ward is fresh and fair, with blue eyes and a boyish face, but his head is white as snow. Whether he turned it white in a single night or by slower process I do not know, but it is strangely out of keeping with his clear young eye. He is thin, and has a queer stooping figure.

This story he told me of his own experience. On a Western steamer there was a great crowd and no unoccupied berth, or sleeping place of any sort whatsoever in the gentlemen's cabin — saloon, I think they called it. He had taken a stateroom, 110, but he could not eject the people who had already seized it and were asleep in it. Neither could the Captain. It would have been a case of revolver or “eleven inch Bowie-knife.”

Near the ladies' saloon the steward took pity on him. “This man,” said he, “is 110, and I can find no place for him, poor fellow.” There was a peep out of bright eyes: “I say, steward, have you a man 110 years old out there? Let us see him. He must be a natural curiosity.” “We are overcrowded,” was the answer, “and we can't find a place for him to sleep.” “Poor old soul; bring him in here. We will take care of him.”

“Stoop and totter,” sniggered .the steward to No. 110, “and go in.”

“Ah,” said Mr. Ward, “how those houris patted and pitied me and hustled me about and gave me the best berth! I tried not to look; I knew it was wrong, but I looked. I saw them undoing their back hair and was lost in amazement at the collapse when the huge hoop-skirts fell off, unheeded on the cabin floor.”

One beauty who was disporting herself near his curtain suddenly caught his eye. She stooped and gathered up her belongings as she said: “I say, stewardess, your old hundred and ten is a humbug. His eyes are too blue for anything,” and she fled as he shut himself in, nearly frightened to death. I forget how it ended. There was so much laughing at his story I did not hear it all. So much for hoary locks and their reverence-inspiring power!

Russell, the wandering English newspaper correspondent, was telling how very odd some of our plantation habits were. He was staying at the house of an ex-Cabinet Minister, and Madame would stand on the back piazza and send her voice three fields off, calling a servant. Now that is not a Southern peculiarity. Our women are soft, and sweet, low-toned, indolent, graceful, quiescent. I dare say there are bawling, squalling, vulgar people everywhere.

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¹ Matthias Ward was a native of Georgia, but had removed to Texas in 1836. He was twice a delegate to National Democratic Conventions, and in 1858 was appointed to fill a vacancy from Texas in the United States Senate, holding that office until 1860.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 50-2

Gen. Franz Sigel

A gentleman just from St. Louis informs us that General Sigel, who has been ill for some time, in that town, has so far recovered that he will soon be able to take the field.

Sigel seems to have been a special mark for McCullough’s sharpshooters at the battle of Pea Ridge.  Our informant conversed with a rebel Colonel, a prisoner of war, captured at Pea Ridge, a short time since.  The rebel officer informed him that McCullough, during the battle, selected thirty marksmen from among his sharpshooters, and directed them to bring down the “d----d Dutchman.”  Fortunately they were not as successful as their Chief desired – not, however, from lack of chances to sight their game; for Sigel was almost constantly exposed on the field.  An unseen hand warded off the bullet. – Cleveland Plain Dealer.

– Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Thursday Morning, May 8, 1862, p. 2

Matters at Bowling Green & Conflict near at hand – Floyd and McCulloch at Bowling Green

(From the Nashville Banner, Dec. 30)

The Nashville Banner has an interesting letter from Bowling Green, dated the 30th ult., from which we gather the following extraction:

Ten days since an engagement of no small magnitude was imminent in the quarter – Divisions and columns and batteries were driving forward, and our leaders urging on the advance.  The enemy at Green river was in heavy force, and expecting continually to be joined by their entire and immense army, which was moving down, while their advance were thrown, menacingly, across the stream.  The two armies were thus in close proximity and advancing.  This state of things certainly justified the general expectation of an immediate fight, and quickened the public pulse as regarded the result.  Since that time considerable change has taken place in the military status.  Hindman’s forces, which formed our advance, have fallen back this side of Cave City, while the Federals, frightened by the warm reception given them by the lamented Col. Terry, have for the most part retreated beyond Green river.  The brigade of General Breckinridge is encamped about twelve miles above here while the Kentucky cavalry still remains in possession of Glasgow.  The Federal force this side of Green river is variously reported, but it is fair to presume, from the best information at hand, that it numbers from three to five thousand.  They, for the present seem disinclined to retake a hasty advance.

Mentioning the return of the Texan Rangers the letter says:

They represent the Federals are being afraid of fight, and not anxious to attempt an advance.  They confirm the reported estimate of the army this side of Green river, via that it is from three to five thousand.  On the 29th, the Federals, in heavy force, estimated by some at seven thousand, appeared on the North bank of Green river opposite Brownsville, which is in Edmonson county, and distant from this place 24 miles.  Their actions and manners indicated a design to attempt the crossing of the river, if any such design, however, were entertained, it was abandoned, as none of them have been seen south of the river in that region.

THE CONFLICT NEAR AT HAND

Notwithstanding the falling back of troops on both sides, and the non occurrence of any exciting event during the past ten days, multiplied in numbers and more mighty on the rebound, the two armies are about rushing together for mastery in the conflict.  Our future, and perhaps yours, is to be decided, and soon, too, by the stern arbitrament of the sword.  Like Camilius of old, we throw our steel in the scales before the advancing and extorting Gauls, and tell them it is with that alone we purchase liberty.  The vast accessions referred to as being daily made to the Federal army, and the eagerness they exhibit to find out everything relating to our forces and movements, coupled with the fact that thirty thousand more of their mercenary hordes have been authorized for immediate service in Kentucky, show that they intend to move forward with every available means they can command.  On our side, every indication goes to show an early conflict impending.  Our generals, ever alert, exhibit increased vigilance and activity.  One day they are on the advance lines, the next, inspecting positions, the third reviewing their troops.  They are here, there and everywhere.  Vast reinforcements are pouring in at a rate more rapid than anything that has yet been witnessed.  On arrival, quarters are immediately assigned them, the localities being selected before they reach here.

The instructions are to be ready for any emergency.  A few days since, the Forty-first Tennessee, a full, brave and splendid looking regiment, reached here.  Just after them came three Mississippi regiments.  Yesterday, the entire force from Camp Beauregard arrived. – General Bowen’s entire division, 7,000 strong, are coming – two of the regiments reached here to-day.  They were the Twenty-second Mississippi, Col. Bonham, and the Twenty-second Tennessee.  The others will follow to-morrow.  General McCulloch, the world renowned Ben, is on his way here, with his redoubtable troopers, and General Floyd and his forces, it is stated this evening that he had arrived at Gallatin, whence he would take up his line of march for Scottsville, Kentucky. – If this be true, he is designed to co-operate with Zollicoffer.  Scottville, is twenty five miles east of this place, immediately on the main turnpike leading to the Central part of Kentucky.  Cavalry, artillery, and heavy batteries are also daily coming, in large quantities.  The great conflict, then, though it may not take place as soon as recent events may have led us to suppose, is near at hand, and cannot be deferred.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, February 1, 1862, p. 1

From The Arkansas Rebels --- They Extend Their Retreat --- Pike’s Indians Absquatulated --- The Rebel Force And Prospect

ROLLA, MO., March 29. Reliable persons just from our army in the southwest, say that the rebels numbering some 35,000 under Van Dorn and Price, have retreated entirely across the Boston Mountains, and are now at Van Buren and Fort Smith receiving supplies from Memphis and little Rock, via the Arkansas river, which is high.

The Texas troops are much disheartened at the death of McCulloch, and the Arkansas troops feel the loss of McIntosh very severely.  The rebels are badly off for clothing and shoes.

Pike’s Indians have mostly returned to the Indian nation.  They were not formidable in battle, being panic stricken at the effect of our artillery.

Price receved his Major General’s commission in the confederate service on the 16th.

One regiment of Texas troops reached Van Buren on the 15th to reinforce Van Dorn, and more were expected from Louisiana.  The whole rebel reinforcements will not exceed 5,000 in the next six weeks.

They were badly frightened and retreated very rapidly, and for the first three days of their flight had nothing to eat.  Their cannon and baggage train might have been easily captured.

Gen. Curtis’ army fell back to Keitsville to secure forage, Arkansas north of Fayetteville being entirely out.

Our forces are now camped at the head of Cross Timber Hollow, were water and forage are plenty.  Our pickets extend into Arkansas and the rebel pickets come north to the top of Boston Mountains.

Fayetteville is unoccupied.  Very little union sentiment has been developed in Arkansas.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, April 5, 1862, p. 4

The Late Battle Of Pea Ridge

Lieutenant Colonel Herron, of the Ninth Iowa volunteers, one of the regiments which bore so gallant a part in the actions at Leetown and Elkhorn, in Arkansas, (known officially as the battle of Pea Ridge,) recently arrived in this city, and is occupying a room at the Planters House.  He is in care of Dr. Charles A. Pope, and has promise of as speedy recovery from his wound as possible.  During one of the fiercest contests of the battle, and in which the Ninth had to struggle against a superior force of the enemy, a cannon ball passed entirely through Lieutenant Colonel Herron’s horse, and striking the rider’s right ankle, produced both a fracture and a dislocation.  While thus prostrated on the field, he fell into the hands of the enemy, and on the retreat of their army to Van Buren he was carried thither a prisoner, and exchanged, after two weeks’ detention, for Col. Hebert, of Louisiana, who was among the captives taken by the Union forces.  He was as well treated while in possession of the rebels as their limited means for hospitality and the courtesies of warfare would allow, and met among them several St. Louisans with whom he was acquainted before the breaking out of the war.  He saw or heard of them at the town of Van Buren, on the Arkansas river, four miles from Fort Smith. – It was on Van Buren that the enemy directed their retreat after the fortunes of the contest at Pea Ridge went against them, the columns of the deceased Generals McCulloch and McIntosh, taking the route via Huntsville, and Van Dorn and Price, the road through Bentonville.  They made capital time to Van Buren, and there effected a re-concentration of their defeated and dispirited followers.

Col. Herron Frequently saw and conversed with Gen. Price, and believes him to be rather the best and most sensible of the rebel magnates.  Price was shot through the left arm with a Minie ball.  It entered a few inches below the elbow and cut the bone without causing a complete fracture.  The arm was painful and much swollen, and Dr. France, Price’s Surgeon, had great difficulty in reducing the inflammation.

Gen. Slack received a mortal wound in the battle, and was found on the field by Federal soldiers, and carried to a hospital used temporarily for the treatment of the rebel wounded. – He lived only four hours.

Gens. McCulloch and McIntosh were buried at the same time, at Fort Smith.  An escort of cavalry accompanied their remains to the grave.

Gen. Rains after getting to Van Buren, became insubordinate, under the influence of copious drinks of bad whiskey.  He met. Maj. Gen. Van Dorn on the street, denounced him, and damned him for a coward – laying the loss of the battle wholly to Van Dorn’s account.  The opinion generally expressed by the rebel officers was that Van Dorn had courage enough, but lacked judgment.  He arrived at the confederate camps only the day before the battle, and was received with a grand artillery salute, the thunder of which was heard in the Federal lines.  Learning from the subordinate generals that their combined forces amounted to 40,000 men, he ordered them to move forward early next morning and surround the Federal troops.  The day before Col. Heron was released, Price received a commission from Richmond as Major-General.  This still left Price subordinate to Van Dorn, but he thinks the latter has retired or resigned leaving Price in chief command.

Two thirds of the rebel soldiers were armed with muskets, many of them of the Springfield and Enfield pattern, and having sabre bayonets.  The balance had shot guns and country rifles with usual variety.  A brigade of three regiments of Louisiana troops had good uniforms of gray cloth, but with the remainder of the army uniforms were few except with the officers.  They had forty-five pieces of artillery, many of the guns being superior to those in the Union army, who counted, all told, but forty two pieces.  The mules and wagons comprising the commissary train were better than our own, but in medical stores and hospital appliances they were very deficient.

The rebels generally were much dispirited. – Their officers studiously deceived them as to the extent of the late reverses.  They admitted that Fort Donelson had been lost to them with a garrison of two or three thousand men but they denied that Columbus had been evacuated, or that the Federal troops occupied Nashville.  The news of the naval engagement in Hampton Roads was bulletined throughout their camps on sheets of paper, printed in large type.  They represented that six Government vessels were then destroyed – on of them with the entire crew of five hundred men. –{St. Louis Rep.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, April 5, 1862, p. 2

See Also:

• Iowa Colonels and Regiments: Major General Francis J. Herron

The Fall of Lexington – Why Mulligan was not Re-enforced – Fremont Vindicated

We make the following extract from the speech of Hon. Schuyler Colfax, in defense of Gen. Fremont, delivered on Friday last.  It is but an extract, but sufficient to justify to the General with the honest and patriotic people.  The speech was made in reply to the attack of F. P. Blair:

I come now to the fall of Lexington.  I happened to be in St. Louis on the 14th of September, and found the whole city excited with the news that had just reached there, that Price was marching upon the gallant defender of the town of Lexington, and when my friend speaks about the Home Guard it appears to me that Colonel Mulligan didn’t bear very high testimony to their gallantry then.  But I saw Lieutenant Governor Hall and he told me that Price was marching toward Lexington with fifteen thousand men, and that Fremont ought to send out a column to intercept him.  I asked him how many men Fremont had, and he said he thought he had twenty thousand.  I thought if he had that number he certainly could send out some, and I went to General Fremont, full of zeal for the re-enforcement of Mulligan, and told him what Lieutenant Governor Hall had said, and that if he had twenty thousand men some ought to be sent out. – He said: “I will tell you, confidentially, what I would not have known in the streets of St. Louis for my life.  They have got the opinion that I have twenty thousand men here.  I will show you what I really have got.”  He rang his bell, and his secretary came and brought the muster roll for that day, and by that muster roll he had in St. Louis and within seven miles round about, less than eight thousand men, and only two of them full regiments.  It was a beggarly array of an army, and it was all needed to defend that city at that time.  But I asked him if he could not spare some of these?  Sir, the tears stood in his eyes, as he handed me two telegraphic dispatches he had that day received from Washington.  I will read them, that you may see how little was at his command to re-enforce Mulligan.  Mr. Colfax then read the dispatches, ordering him to send five thousand armed infantry to Washington, and continued: I have shown you that he had the men, but no guns; and when he bought guns, the necessity for which was imperious, he was denounced from one end of this country to the other because they were not Springfield rifles of the best quality.  You must send five thousand well armed infantry to Washington at once, and this draft on him was to be replaced by troops from Kansas, or wherever he could best gather them.  I asked him, “What can you do (and my heart sank within me as I asked the question) here with an inferior force, and your best forces sent away to Washington?”  Said he, “Washington must have my troops, though Missouri fall, and I fall myself.”  After I heard that I would have been a traitor to my convictions if I did not stand up to defend this man, who was willing to sacrifice himself to defend the imperiled capital of the country.

He telegraphed to Washington that he was preparing to obey the order received, and I doubt not it made his heart bleed, knowing the strait Mulligan was in.  Then he telegraphed to Gov. Morton and Gov. Denison for more troops and the answer he received was that they had received orders to send all their troops East.  So there his reliance failed.  My friend says that it cannot be shown that he moved any of his men until after Lexington had fallen.  Lexington fell on Friday, the 22d of September.  I well remember the day.  Here are dispatches to Gen. Pope on the 16th of September, and dispatches from Gen. Sturgis to Col. Davis, hurrying the men.  The wires were hot with orders hurrying the men to re-enforce Mulligan.  Pope telegraphed on the 17th of September that his troops would be there day after to-morrow, which would have been two days before Lexington surrendered, and Sturgis thought he should be there on Thursday.  Col. Mulligan told me himself that if Sturgis had appeared on the opposite side of the river he though Price would have retired.  Thus from three sources Fremont sent on troops to re-enforce Mulligan, but he failed to do it because the elements seemed to be against him, and not because he did not seek to do so in every possible way that he could send succor to him.  At this very time there were all the different posts in Missouri to be held; his three months’ men were rapidly retiring, and his best men sent to Washington, Price, with fifteen thousand me, marching to Lexington; McCullough threatening Rolla, Hardee threatening Ironton, and Polk and Pillow at Columbus; and all over the State where organized bands of rebels – about eighty thousand men – threatening him, and he with an inadequate force to meet them.  And while thus struggling, from every side were launched against him the poisoned arrows of hate and partisan enmity; and while Fremont was out hunting the enemies of his country, somebody was in St. Louis hunting up witnesses against him, and giving ex parte testimony taken there; and while he was facing the foe, endeavoring to secure victory, a synopsis of the testimony was sent upon the wires all over the country, so that the public mind should be poisoned against, and his overthrow might be easier.  I think, in the name of humanity – if there is no such word as justice – they should at least have sent him this evidence after he came back to his post; but to this very hour the committee have not sent him this testimony at all.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 29, 1862, p. 4

The Great Battle of Pea Ridge

Although we have already given very full accounts of this bloody and desperate battle from several Western papers, we find so many interesting items not before published, in the New York World, Tribune and Herald, worth reprinting, that we have concluded to give a part of them, not withstanding our limited space:

IOWA BATTERY CAPTURED AND RETAKEN

Meantime the fight was raging furiously in the extreme right on both sides of the Fayetteville road.  The First and Second Iowa Batteries, planted on an eminence overlooking the declivity in the road, were kept busy plying shrapnel and canister into the ranks of the enemy, who appeared in immense numbers on all sides, as if to surround the right of our line, and thus completely environ us.  In order to defeat this object a severe struggle took place for the occupancy of a rising knoll on the east side of the road.  The enemy gained upon us, and it was not until our men were half stricken down that they yielded the point.  Word had been passed back to General Curtis that the enemy was pressing hardly on the right flank, and that our batteries had been left on the hill, and the enemy were now turning it upon us.  Colonel Carr, fearing that no reinforcements would arrive, collected his strength and mustered his entire force for a last desperate charge, resolved to retake to position or perish in the attempt.  A heavy firing on our centre and a cheer from the advancing division of General Davis favored the effort, and our troops marched up to the battery amid a storm of shot from their own guns, and after a desperate hand-to-hand struggle, finally drove the enemy down the ravine in hopeless confusion.  Col. Carr received a wound in the arm, but remained on the field.

The great leader of the rebels – the ubiquitous Ben McCulloch – was among the slain.  He who had contemptuously spoke of the Southerners as the “natural masters” of the Northern men, lay a victim to his presumption, his life fast ebbing by the hands of those whom he styled a nation of “craven hearted cowards.”  The loss on both sides of this conflict was severe.  Our loss in killed and wounded could not have been less than three hundred; that of the enemy must have been double.  Lieut. David, who commanded the battery, was the last to leave his pieces and among the first to regain them.  He bears a wound in the arm, and several marks of the hostile bullets.  Many of our officers were wounded, but, fortunately, none seriously.  Lieut. Col. Herron, of the Ninth Iowa, was wounded in the foot, and while in the hands of the Surgeons, was taken prisoner by the advancing enemy.  Col. Herron fought with great spirit and was the most conspicuous figure in the repulse.  The command then devolved upon Major Coyle, who gallantly led the regiment on the advance receiving a severe wound in the shoulder.

DEVOTION OF AN ARTILLERYMAN.

One of the most signal instances of superhuman bravery is connected with the loss of these guns.  One of the cannoneers, who has been long noted for his wonderful pluck, remained hat his posted to the last.  Placing himself in front of the piece, he disdained to save himself, but with navy revolver, stood calmly awaiting the hooting crowds of rebels.  He emptied every barrel of his pistol, and then, with his short sword, defended his piece until he was struck down by the blows of the rebels.  His body was afterwards found near the piece, with seventeen balls and his head cloven open with a tomahawk.

A BOWIE-KNIFE CONFLICT.

While the fight was raging about Miser’s farm house on the ridge, on Friday morning a soldier belonging to the 25th Missouri and a member of a Mississippi company became separated from their commands, and found each other climbing the same fence.  The rebel had one of those long knives made of a file, which the South has so extensively paraded, but so rarely used, and the Missourian had one also, having picked it up on the field.

The rebel challenged his enemy to a fair, open combat with the knife, intending to bully him, no doubt, and the challenge was promptly accepted.  The two removed their coats, rolled up their sleeves, and began.  The Mississippian had more skill, but his opponent more strength, and consequently the latter could not strike his enemy, while he received several cuts on the head and breast.  The blood began trickling rapidly down the Unionist’s face, and running into his eyes, almost blinded him.  The Union man became desperate, for he saw the Secessionist was unhurt.  He made a feint; the rebel leaned forward to arrest the blow, but employing too much energy, he could not recover himself at once. – The Missourian perceived his advantage, and knew he could not lose it.  In five seconds more it would be too late.  His enemy glared at him like a wild beast; was on the eve of striking again.  Another feint; another dodge on the rebel’s part, and then the heavy blade of the Missourian hurled through the air, and fell with tremendous force upon the Mississippian’s neck.  The blood spurted from the throat, and the head fell over, almost entirely severed from the body.  Ghastly sight, too ghastly even for the doer of the deed!  He fainted at the spectacle, weakened by the loss of his own blood, and was soon after butchered by a Seminole who saw him sink to the earth.

ZOUAVE TACTICS SUCCESSFUL.

One of the Texan soldiers was advancing with his bayonet upon a Lieutenant of the 9th Iowa, whose sword had been broken.  The officer saw his intention, avoided the thrust, fell down at his foeman’s feet, caught hold of his legs, threw him heavily to the ground, and before he could rise drew a long knife from his adversary’s belt and buried it in his bosom.

The Texan, with dying grasp, seized the Lieutenant by the hair, and sank down lifeless, bathing the brown leaves with his blood.  So firm was the hold of the nerveless hand that it was necessary to cut the hair from the head of the officer before he could be freed from the corpse of his foe.

NATURE OF THE CONTEST.

It only remains for me to notice the character of the struggle out of which we have just come with victory.  Probably there never was such a motley assemblage of warriors collected together under one head as met under this traitor Van Dorn.  The represented the scum of the whole Southwest, from the filibusters of New Orleans to the rude savages of the Indian Nation.  Texan Rangers, whose boast it has been that they would rather fight than eat, and whose life has been one lone predatory warfare of plunder and cruelty.  Uncouth and brutal Arkansans, who have grown up amid murders and homicides.  Ignorant and infatuated Missourians, led on by designing and intriguing politicians.  These were the men which formed the staple of the Southern army, and these are the men who prate of high toned chivalry, who talk contemptuously of the Northern mudsils.  Men who are crying like blind maniacs for their “rights.”  Take the whole rebel army as we saw it and it was one vast congregation of reckless, vicious, ignorant and embruted devils.

Opposed to them were the gallant sons of Iowa, descended mainly from Puritan fathers.  Immortal Iowa! What a page in the volume of American history is reserved for thee!  Long, long will a nation remember how her champions of freedom, like their sires of the Revolution, ragged and barefooted, remained after the expiration of their term of service to lay their lives a sacrifice upon the altar of their country and Wilson’s Creek; how they left their mark upon the foe at Belmont; how they scaled the hights [sic] of Donelson; and last, but not least, how they crushed, with the might of Spartans, the advancing hordes at Sugar Creek, in the wilds of Arkansas.  There, too, stood the patient, courageous sons of Germany, face to face with an insolent and unprincipled foe, contending for those principles of liberty and justice for which they have until now striven in vain.  Honor to these men and their great leader for the part they sustained in this momentous day.  Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio were represented there, and nobly will they bear the wreaths of triumph.  For the first time the loyal Missourians have given an unequivocal and decided test of their ability to cope with the braggart rebels and traitors under the banner of General Price.  They have deserved well of their country.

A GALLANT UNION COLONEL.

Lieut. Col. Herron, of the 9th Iowa, was surrounded by ten or twelve of the enemy, and ordered to surrender.  He indignantly refused, and, with his revolver in one hand, and his sword in the other, kept his enemies at bay, by placing his back against a tree.  He killed and wounded four of the Rebels, when, having been twice wounded himself, his sword was knocked  from his grasp, and his arms seized from behind.  He would have been killed, had not a Southern Captain, from admiration of his courage, ordered his life to be spared.  Even while the Colonel was a captive, a Creek Indian stole up, and was about to plunge a knife into his side, when the Captain drew a revolver, and blew out the treacherous creature’s brains.

Lieut. Col. Herron is still a prisoner, but it is supposed he will be kindly treated and cared for until he is exchanged, which, it is to be hoped, will be at an early day, as our country requires the services of such brave and patriotic men has he has proved himself to be on this trying and important occasion.

AN ADVENTUROUS SCOUT.

A very interesting story is told of a well-known Missouri scout who was [employed] to discover the whereabouts of the enemy during the night.  He was furnished with a horse, citizen’s saddle, a complete suit of butternut clothing, taken from some of their prisoners, and a dispatch purporting to be written by General Van Dorn to Gen. McCulloch, and was started out on the Fayetteville road and made a circuit round to the Bentonville road.  He relates that when near Bentonville he descried a courier dashing along on horseback, when he reined up to the side of the road, and cried out, “Halt! Who comes there?”  The usual reply of “a friend” was given, when the courier advanced and whispered the countersign “Lexington.”  “All right,” said the scout, and was soon on his way with the magical word which was to pass him through the camp of McCulloch.  He rode along the entire line, being asked several questions, all of which he answered as best he could, and in the gray of the morning he returned to our camp with the accurate information of the position and strength of the enemy.  McCulloch, McIntosh and Pike it appears were along the Keetsville road, with Price on the left resting on Sugar Creek.  Van Dorn was at Price’s headquarters.

BATTLEFIELD HORRORS.

The appearance of the hill and woods shelled by Gen. Sigel’s Division attests the terrific shower of missiles that fell upon them.  Walking over the ground immediately after the flight of the enemy and the pursuit by our forces, I found it thickly strewn with dead and wounded, most of them having fallen by the deadly artillery projectiles.  Tree after tree was shattered or perforated by shot and shell, and many were filled with grape and canister balls.  One tree was pierced through and through by a solid shot, its top shivered by a shell, and the base of its trunk scarred by 17 canister and rifle balls.  In one place lay the fragments of a battery wagon wherein a shell had exploded, utterly destroying the wagon and killing two mules which had been its motive power.

A ruined caisson and five cannon wheels were lying near it.  Two dead artillery men were stretched on the earth, each killed by a grape shot, and by their side was a third, gasping his last, with his side laid open by a fragment of a shell.  On the hill, where the cannonade had been severe, trees, rocks and earth bore witness to its fierceness.  Fifteen wounded Rebels lay in one group, and were piteously imploring each passer-by for water and relief for their wounds.  A few rods from them was another, whose arm had been torn off by a cannon shot, leaving the severed member on the ground a few feet distant.  Near him was the dead body of a rebel whose legs and one arm had been shattered by a single shot.

Behind a tree, a few yards distant, was stretched a corpse, with two-thirds of its head blown away by the explosion of a shell, and near it a musket, broken into three pieces.  Still further along was the dead body of a rebel soldier, who had been killed by a grape shot through the breast.  A letter had fallen from his pocket, which on examination, proved to be a long and well written love epistle from his betrothed in East Tennessee.  It was addressed to Pleasant J. Williams, Churchill’s regiment, Fayetteville, Arkansas.  Around him in all directions were his dead and dying comrades, some stretched at full length on the turf, and others contorted as if in extreme agony.  The earth was thickly strewn with shot and fragments of shell.

THE WOODS ON FIRE.

The bursting of the shells had set fire to the dry leaves on the ground, and the woods were burning in every direction.  Efforts were made to remove the wounded before the flames should reach them, and nearly all were taken to places of safety.  Several were afterward found in secluded spots, some of them still alive, but horrifically burned and blackened by the conflagration.

STRIPPING THE DEAD.

The Rebels, in nearly every instance, removed the shoes from the dead and mortally wounded, both of their own army and ours.  Of all the corpses I saw, I do not think one-twentieth had been left with their shoes untouched.  In some cases pantaloons were taken, and occasionally an overcoat or blouse was missing.  A large number of the killed among the rebels were shot through the head, while the majority of our dead were shot through the breast.  The rebels wherever it was possible, fired from cover; and as often as [a] head appeared from behind a tree or bush, it became a mark for our men.  The union troops generally stood in ranks, and except when skirmishing made no use of objects of protection.

SORTIE ON THE LEFT.

Col. Osterhaus was sent with his brigade in the morning along the high land, in the direction of Leestown, for the purpose of intercepting the reinforcements of the enemy, and to discern his strength along the line of Sugar Creek.  This was one of the most spirited and successful attacks of the battle and resulted in a complete diversion of the enemy from the overpowered forces of Col. Carr, on the Fayetteville road.

Our cavalry penetrated along the main ridge beyond the road by which the enemy had come and were on the point of seizing some of the enemy’s wagons when a brigade of rebel cavalry and infantry attacked them.  Then followed one of the most sanguinary contests that has ever been seen between cavalry.  Most of the fighting was done at close quarters.  Pistols and carbines having been exhausted, our sabers were brought into requisition.  The rattle of steel against steel, our sabers against their muskets and cutlasses, was terrific.  Nothing like it has been heard before.  The rebels were Texan Rangers, and fought like demons.  The slaughter was awful, our Missouri cavalry cleaving right and left, leaving in front of their horses winnows of dead and wounded.  The enemy fell back in dismay and our forces pursued them along the road for about a mile when they opened a battery upon the mass of friend and foe plowing through them with solid shot and shell.  Colonel Osterhaus had succeeded in his attempt and retired, bringing off his dead and wounded in safety.

THE SCALPING SAVAGES AGAIN.

Of the statement that the Rebels gave the Indians large quantities of whiskey in which gunpowder was dissolved, previous to leading them into battle, there is now another version.  The enemy say the savages did not receive any liquor from them, but that the Indians discovered several barrels of whisky and appropriated it to their own use.  Of course they drank hugely; and while their stipulative stimulus contributed largely to their fighting propensity, it exercised no very favorable influence upon their discrimination.

They were less timid and more bloodthirsty after their intoxication; but it so enlarged their ideas of nationality and restored to recollection their wrongs from the white race that they determined to make no narrow distinctions in regard to geographical lines.  Consequently they butchered and scalped Arkansan or Louisianian with as much self-complacency as an Indianian or and Illinoisian – doubtless a very pleasant and commendable proceeding on their party, but which the Southerners  from some mental obliquity fail to appreciate.

THEIR FAILURE AS WARRIORS.

The Indians during the battle, displayed very little, if any, courage, and beyond the drunken fray displayed at the expense of those who had induced them to take part in the war, they did nothing commendable.  Their fighting was a failure.  They had little relish for it, and they therefore confined themselves to robbing the dead, killing the wounded and scalping alike their friends and foes.

The experiment of enlisting the Indians in the Rebel service will hardly be tried again, I think.  The enemy evidently deem it a hazardous business, and one that, on the whole, admits of little compensation.  Some of the prisoners are greatly incensed against the savages and talk of hunting them to death.

An Arkansan, who had been wounded and partially scalped by one of the Cherokees, is so enraged against them as to be in danger of apoplexy when their name is mentioned.  Speaking on the subject this morning, he remarked that it was a pretty idea to coax a set of red devils into the army to give them an opportunity of scalping you; and, as for himself, he intended to kill every Indian he could find hereafter, no matter where and under what circumstances.

THE MANNER OF M’CULLOCH’S DEATH.

Concerning the death of McCulloch and McIntosh there seems to be but one opinion.  Both of them were mortally wounded on Friday, during the heavy fighting by Gen. Jeff. C. Davis against the center column of the enemy.  It will be remembered the Rebels gave way, and the two Southern chieftains made the most determined efforts to rally them in vain.

McCulloch was struck with a minié rifle ball in the left breast – as I am assured by one who says he saw him fall, and after he was taken from the ground – while waving his sword and encouraging his men to stand firm.  He died of his wounds about 11 o’clock the same night, though he insisted that he would recover; repeatedly saying with great oaths that he was not born to be killed by a Yankee.

A few minutes before he expired his physician assured him he had but a very brief time to live.  At this Ben, looked up incredulously, and saying, “Oh, Hell!” turned away his head, and never spoke after.

I presume if Ben be really dead, the Southern papers will put some very fine sentiment into his mouth in his closing moments; but the last words I have mentioned are declared to be correct by a prisoner.  They are not very elegant nor dramatic, but quite expressive, and in McCulloch’s case decidedly appropriate.

HOW M’INTOSH DIED.

It is reported that McIntosh was stuck near the right hip with a grapeshot, while giving an order to one of his aids, and hurled from his horse.  The wound was a ghastly one, and tho’ it must have been very painful, McIntosh uttered no groan, but calmly gave directions for his treatment.  A few minutes after he fell into a comatose state, from which he never recovered – passing through Death’s dark portal while his attendants supposed he still lay beside the golden gates of Sleep.

REBEL HATERED OF SIGEL.

The Secessionists, so far as I can learn from the prisoners here, are very bitter against Sigel, on account of his nativity no less than of his ability.  They attribute their defeat mainly to him, and say they would not have cared if they had been repulsed by an American, but to be overcome by a “d----d Dutchman” is more than they can endure with patience.

EXTRACTS FROM CONFEDERATE LETTERS.

A number of rebel letters have been found upon the battle-field and in the deserted camps of the enemy, and as they show the feelings and confidence of the confederates, I will make brief extracts from two of them, written evidently by officers of intelligence.  The two epistles must have been completed before the battle, and not being mailed to the parties addressed, were dropped in the confusion of a precipitate retreat.

The first letter is from a Texas captain to his wife, and reads thus:

“NEW FAYETTEVILLE, Ark, March 5, 1862.

“Thank God, dear Mary, we’ve got the Yankees in a trap at last.  They cannot escape us now.  We have more than twice as many men as they and we have a plan to cut them off, and annihilate them.  Before a week has past, you will hear of a terrible defeat of the Lincolnites, such as one will offset to some extent our mortifying surrender at Donelson.  We are certain of success, and I hope I will be able to bring five or six Yankee prisoners to Galveston next summer.

“The northern men will not fight when they can avoid it, but we intend to make them this time, or cut their throats.

“The coming battle will free Arkansas and Missouri from the invaders, and we will then march on to St. Louis, and take that Abolition city, and give the oppressed Southerners there an opportunity to be free once more.  We here that we would be welcomed in St. Louis by at least 50,000 people who have long suffered from the tyranny of the mercenary Dutch.”

The second letter from a Louisiana Major to his sister, a resident of New Orleans, and bearing date, “Little Rock, February 27,” is quite different in tone, as will be seen from this quotation:

DEAR SISTER CARRIE: You asked me in your last letter what I thought of the prospect of our dearly beloved cause.  To be candid, I have little hope for its success now, though last December I felt confident we would be recognized before the coming June.  I don’t like the Yankees a bit.  I have been educated to hate them, and I do hate them heartily; but I must acknowledge the South has been sadly mistaken in their character.  We have always believed that the Yankees would not fight for anything like a principle; that they had no chivalry, no poetry in their nature.  Perhaps they have not; but that they are brave, determined, persevering, they have proved beyond question.  *  *  *

The trouble with them is that they never get tired of anything.  They lost all the battles at first, and after Manassas we despised them.  This year has inaugurated a new order of affairs. – We are beaten at all points.  We do nothing but surrender and evacuate; and while I hate the Licolnites more than ever, I respect them – I can’t help it – for their dogged obstinacy and the slow but steady manner in which they carry out their plans.

I have lost heart in our cause.  There is something wrong – somewhere.  Jeff. Davis and our political leaders are either knaves or fools.  They drew us into our present difficulties, and now have now way of showing us out of them.

If the South had known what would have been the result of Secession, no State, unless South Carolina, would have gone out of the Union. – We all thought we could go out in peace; I know I did, and I laughed at the idea of the North attempting to keep us in the union by force of arms.  It was not possible, we said.  We had too many friends in the Free States.  Such a step would be followed by a revolution in the North, and the turning of old Lincoln and all the Abolitionists out of office.  *  *  *

Oh, well, it cant be helped, Carrie.  We are in for it.  It is too late to retreat.  We must fight the thing out.  *  *  I cannot help believing we will be overpowered.  We are growing weaker every day, and the North stronger.  I fear to look at our future.  We can’t be subjugated, we all say.  I hope not; but if we do not fly the country, I fear we will experience something like subjugation  *  *  *

May be I’m gloomy to-day; I reckon I am. – Who wouldn’t be?  I intend to fight as hard as I can but I can’t see any way out.  *  *  *  Tear up this letter.  Don’t let mother or father or any of our relatives see it.  I have expressed my heart to you because you are my dear sister, and I always tell you what I believe.

I have selected freely from the above letter because it seems to me to be the most sensible and truthful one I have seen during all the time I have been in the army.  No doubt there are hundreds of Southerners who feel, think, and believe as the Louisiana Major does, but who have either too much pride to speak out, or too little moral courage to be candid.  They must see they have placed themselves in a position from which they cannot retire and from which they have not the power to extricate themselves.

SATURDAY’S DECISIVE ACTION.

The masterly arrangement of our six batteries on the last day of the fight, and the ordering forward of all the infantry so as to bear upon the enemy at a short range with their death-dealing musketry, was the movement which gave us our triumph.  Rebels could not avoid the dreadful cross-fires of the artillery, and the continuous volleys of musketry.

Their officers besought them to stand firm; to remember the sacredness of their cause, and the deadly wrongs of the South; to recall the valorous deeds of their ancestors on other fields, the honor of Secessia, the reputation of Slave-ownia for valor and chivalry, and a great many other things that would have required the aid of a system of Mnemonics.  But the dull fellows would not remember; or, if they did, they received no benefit from the recollection beyond certain excellent performances on foot; and in that short exercise they actively and promptly indulged.

Running is generally advantageous to [hygiene] and there is little question it proved so on Saturday to the fugacious Southerners. – They would have found that remaining much longer behind must have seriously disagreed with their physical well being.

STERLING PRICE RAVING MAD.

Sterling Price is said to have blasphemed and raved like a drunken sailor and a madman after his retreat from the field on Saturday; swearing his troops and those from Arkansas were all cowards to allow themselves to be driven off like kicked curs by one-half their number.  He became so personally offensive in his remarks that some of his officers threatened to resign and others to shoot him; whereupon he altered his tone, and asked to be pardoned for hastiness of speech and loss of temper, resulting from mortification over so terrible a defeat.

For several months past, Price has been excessively irritable and abusive, and as he has recently augmented his potations in a geometrical ratio, many of his own men believe him insane, and think him a fitter candidate for the lunatic asylum than promotion in the army. – He appears to have grown extremely morose and violent of speech, and every new repulse increases his frailty.  He denounces everybody and everything; is as inflammatory as gunpowder on the Yankees, and sometimes indulges in the amiable wish that the entire country was consigned to that mythical subterranean region chiefly remarkably for its lakes of sulphurous fire.

Price is hardly the man to become insane; he has too much of the animal in his nature; but I have no doubt he is madder than the raving gods in the Vida; and it must be confessed the events of the past few months have not been such as to improve the natural infirmities of his temper.

Perhaps Sterling had better imitate the philosophic German in the popular story, who declared he would not “pine away for Katy’s sake,” but in the event of a certain sentimental crisis in his life he would “bite himself mit a shnake.”

HEADQUARTERS FIRST AND SECOND DIVISIONS,

CAMP PEA RIDGE, ARK., March 15.

To the Officers and Soldiers of the First and Second Divisions:

After so many hardships and sufferings of this war in the West, a great and decisive victory has, for the time, been attained, and the army of the enemy overwhelmed and perfectly routed.  The rebellious flag of the Confederate States lies in the dust, and the same men who had organized armed rebellion at Camp Jackson, Maysville and Fayetteville; who have fought against us at Boonville, Carthage and Wilson’s Creek at Lexington and Milford, have paid the penalty of their seditious work with their lives, or are seeking refuge behind the Boston Mountains and the shores of the Arkansas river.

The last days were hard, but triumphant.  Surrounded and pressed upon all sides by an enterprising, desperate and greedy enemy – by the Missouri and Arkansas mountaineer, the Texas Ranger, the finest regiment of Louisiana troops, and even the savage Indian – almost without food, sleep or camp-fires, you remained firm and unabashed, awaiting the moment when you could drive back your assailants or break through the iron circle by which the enemy thought to crush or capture us all, and plant the rebellious flag on the rocky summit of Pea Ridge.

You have defeated all their schemes.  When at McKissicks’ farm, west of Bentonville, you extricated yourselves from their grasp by a night’s march, and secured a train of two hundred wagons before the enemy became aware of the direction you had taken, instead of being cut off, weakened and driven to the necessity of giving battle under the most unfavorable circumstances, you joined your friends and comrades at Sugar Creek, and thereby saved yourselves and the whole army from being separated and beaten in detail.

On the retreat from Bentonville to Sugar Creek – a distance of ten miles – you cut your way through an enemy at least five times stronger than yourselves.  The activity, self-possession and courage of the little band of six hundred will ever be memorable in the history of this war.

When, on the next day, the great battle began, under the command of Gen. Asboth, you assisted the Fourth Division with all the cheerfulness and alacrity of good and faithful soldiers – that division on that day holding the most important position – whilst Col. Osterhaus, co-operating with the Third Division, battered down the host of McCulloch on our left, and Major Paten guarded our rear.

On the 8th, you came at the right time to the right place.  It was the first opportunity you had of showing your full strength and power.  In less than three hours you formed in line of battle, advanced and co-operated with our friends on the right, and routed the enemy so completely that he fled like dust before a hurricane.  And so it will always be when traitors, seduced by selfish leaders and persecuted by the pangs of an evil conscience, are fighting against soldiers who defend a good cause, are well drilled and disciplined, obey promptly the orders of their officers, and do not shrink from dangerous assault when, at the proper and decisive moment it is necessary.

You may look with pride on the few days just passed, during which you have so gloriously defended the flag of the Union.  From two o’clock on the morning of the 6th, when you arrived from Keetsville in the common encampment, you marched fifty miles, fought three battles, took not only a battery and a flag from the enemy, but more than a hundred and fifty prisoners – among them Acting Brigadier General Herbert, the commander of the Louisiana forces and his major; Col. Mitchell, of the Fourteenth Arkansas; Colonel Stone, Adjutant General of Price’s forces, and Lieut. Col. John H. Price, whose life was twice spared, and who has now for the second time violated his parole, and was arrested with arms in his hands.

You have done your duty, and you can justly claim your share in the common glory of this victory.  But let us not be partial, unjust or haughty.  Let us not forget that alone we were too weak to perform the great work before us.  Let us acknowledge the great service done by all the brave soldiers of the Third and Fourth Divisions, and always keep in mind that “united we stand, divided we fall.”  Let us hold out and push the work through – not by mere words and great clamor, but by good marches, by hardships and fatigues, by strict discipline and effective battles.

Columbus has fallen – Memphis will follow, and if you do in future as you have done in these past days of trial, the time will soon come when you will pitch your tents on the beautiful shores of the Arkansas river, and there meet our iron-clad propellers at Little Rock and Fort Smith.  Therefore, keep alert, my friends, and look forward with confidence.

F. SIGEL,

Brig. Gen. Com’nding First and Second Divs.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 29, 1862, p. 1