Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Sunday, June 28, 1863

No officer or soldier under the rank of a general is allowed into Chambersburg without a special order from General Lee, which he is very chary of giving; and I hear of officers of rank being refused this pass.

Moses proceeded into town at 11 A.M., with an official requisition for three days' rations for the whole army in this neighbourhood. These rations he is to seize by force, if not voluntarily supplied.

I was introduced to General Hood this morning; he is a tall, thin, wiry-looking man, with a grave face and a light-coloured beard, thirty-three years old, and is accounted one of the best and most promising officers in the army. By his Texan and Alabamian troops he is adored; he formerly commanded the Texan Brigade, but has now been promoted to the command of a division. His troops are accused of being a wild set, and difficult to manage; and it is the great object of the chiefs to check their innate plundering propensities by every means in their power.

I went into Chambersburg at noon, and found Lawley ensconced in the Franklin Hotel. Both he and I had much difficulty in getting into that establishment — the doors being locked, and only opened with the greatest caution. Lawley had had a most painful journey in the ambulance yesterday, and was much exhausted. No one in the hotel would take the slightest notice of him, and all scowled at me in a most disagreeable manner. Half-a-dozen Pennsylvanian viragos surrounded and assailed me with their united tongues to a deafening degree. Nor would they believe me when I told them I was an English spectator and a noncombatant: they said I must be either a Rebel or a Yankee — by which expression I learned for the first time that the term Yankee is as much used as a reproach in Pennsylvania as in the South. The sight of gold, which I exchanged for their greenbacks, brought about a change, and by degrees they became quite affable. They seemed very ignorant, and confused Texans with Mexicans.

After leaving Lawley pretty comfortable, I walked about the town and witnessed the pressing operations of Moses and his myrmidons. Neither the Mayor nor the corporation were to be found anywhere, nor were the keys of the principal stores forthcoming until Moses began to apply the axe. The citizens were lolling about the streets in a listless manner, and showing no great signs of discontent. They had left to their women the task of resisting the commissaries — a duty which they were fully competent to perform. No soldiers but those on duty were visible in the streets.

In the evening I called again to see Lawley, and found in his room an Austrian officer, in the full uniform of the Hungarian hussars. He had got a year's leave of absence, and has just succeeded in crossing the Potomac, though not without much trouble and difficulty. When he stated his intention of wearing his uniform, I explained to him the invariable custom of the Confederate soldiers, of never allowing the smallest peculiarity of dress or appearance to pass without a torrent of jokes, which, however good-humoured, ended in becoming rather monotonous.

I returned to camp at 6 P.M. Major Moses did not get back till very late, much depressed at the illsuccess of his mission. He had searched all day most indefatigably, and had endured much contumely from the Union ladies, who called him “a thievish little rebel scoundrel,” and other opprobrious epithets. But this did not annoy him so much as the manner in which everything he wanted had been sent away or hidden in private houses, which he was not allowed by General Lee's order to search. He had only managed to secure a quantity of molasses, sugar, and whisky. Poor Moses was thoroughly exhausted; but he endured the chaff of his brother officers with much good-humour, and they made him continually repeat the different names he had been called. He said that at first the women refused his Confederate “trash” with great scorn, but they ended in being very particular about the odd cents.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 247-50

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: Tuesday, August 12, 1862

In the morning molasses was issued to the boys. Wrote a letter home. One boy from Co. G was buried. Wrote to Fannie and Uncle. Lt. Carter died. It must be a sad affliction for his poor mother who esteemed him her pet. Sergt. Daniels was wounded in the thigh by accident. Gen. Blunt held a council of all the officers in the division. Squashed the whole Wier fuss. I hope Wier won't accept the terms. Many officers talk of resigning. Ladies about camp. Arrived yesterday. Mesdames Miner, Burnett, Ratliffe, Taylor.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 25

Diary of Laura M. Towne: April 24, 1862

St. Helena's Island, Pope's Plantation.

April 24, 1862.

Mr. Pierce's Head Quarters—

Family — Mrs. Johnson and her sister; Miss Donelson; Miss Susan Walker; Miss Winsor; Miss Laura Towne; Rina, Rebecca, Susannah, Lucy, Jane, Harry, Joe, Dagus, and others, being outside and inside members of the household.

Miss Donelson goes home only because she is not so situated that she can work.

The question of to-day is how to dispose of the clothing to the poor people. They are willing to buy generally, but the supply is too small to admit of selling all they want. . . .

They say, “Gov'ment is fighting for us and we will work for Gov'ment. We don't ask money; we only ask clothes and salt and sweetins.” They express the greatest love for the Yankees.

We ladies are borrowed, to go talk to the negroes, from one plantation to another, and we do good, great good. If I only had time to tell all they say to me! Or how they come thronging here for clothes and go away “too satisfied — too thank,” one woman said, at receiving some few things — generally, too, second-hand — some of it miserable. Too thankful, indeed, if you will only let them buy. We go again to-morrow upon a visit of cheering to the poor, anxious people who have lived on promises and are starving for clothes and food while patiently “working for Gov'ment.”

The cotton agents promised last year and now are just paying for the cotton picked on their promise, one dollar in four — the rest in orders on their stores, where they sell molasses at fifteen cents a pint and soap and salt in proportion. The negroes take it hard that they must work at cotton again this year, especially as it must be to the neglect of their corn, upon which they have the sense to feel that their next winter's food depends....

Rupert Sargent Holland, Editor, Letters and Diary of Laura M. Towne: Written from the Sea Islands of South Carolina 1862-1864, p. 15-7

Diary of Sarah Morgan: August 19, 1862

Yesterday, two Colonels, Shields and Breaux, both of whom distinguished themselves in the battle of Baton Rouge, dined here. Their personal appearance was by no means calculated to fill me with awe, or even to give one an idea of their rank; for their dress consisted of merely cottonade pants, flannel shirts, and extremely short jackets (which, however, is rapidly becoming the uniform of the Confederate States).

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Just three lines back, three soldiers came in to ask for molasses. I was alone downstairs, and the nervous trepidation with which I received the dirty, coarsely clad strangers, who, however, looked as though they might be gentlemen, has raised a laugh against me from the others who looked down from a place of safety. I don't know what I did that was out of the way. I felt odd receiving them as though it was my home, and having to answer their questions about buying, by means of acting as telegraph between them and Mrs. Carter. I confess to that. But I know I talked reasonably about the other subjects. Playing hostess in a strange house! Of course, it was uncomfortable! and to add to my embarrassment, the handsomest one offered to pay for the milk he had just drunk! Fancy my feelings, as I hastened to assure him that General Carter never received money for such things, and from a soldier, besides, it was not to be thought of! He turned to the other, saying, “In Mississippi we don't meet with such people! Miss, they don't hesitate to charge four bits a canteen for milk. They take all they can. They are not like you Louisianians.” I was surprised to hear him say it of his own State, but told him we thought here we could not do enough for them.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 179-80

Colonel William F. Bartlett to Harriett Plummer Bartlett, Saturday, March 7, 1863

Saturday, March 7.

Order came this morning before I was up, to go out with my regiment as escort and guard to wagon train outside the lines. There reported to me quite a little force for the expedition, which I disposed of as follows: In advance I sent a troop of cavalry, McGee's Massachusetts, armed with carbines and sabres. Next, seven companies of the Forty-ninth Regiment, under Lieutenant-colonel Sumner. Next, a section of a battery of regulars, Glosson's Battery, twelve-pounders, rifled. Then came the train of seventy-five wagons, reaching half a mile. In rear of these, three companies of the Forty-ninth, under Major Plunkett, as rear guard. The whole command extended nearly a mile. I rode ahead with the cavalry advance guard. It was quite a pretty little force. Captain Hodge, Assistant Quartermaster, U. S. A., had immediate charge of the wagon train. We marched about three miles beyond the outposts, fairly into the enemy's country. The plantation where we were going for wood, dried and corded, belonged to a Dr. Laycock. It covers about a thousand acres. He raises splendid sugar, molasses, and cotton.

Just before we got to the place, the Clay Cut road, which we were on, turns to the right, and you approach the plantation through a thick belt of woods by a narrow avenue.

I sent half a dozen troopers up the Clay Cut road half a mile, to halt and keep on the look out. I sent one company of the Forty-ninth up the same road quarter of a mile, to support them, give alarm, and resist attack. I then rode through the woods with the cavalry, and found everything clear. The house stands in the middle of a large clearing of fifty acres of perfectly level land, a fine mansion, newer and in better repair than most of the southern houses I have seen. The owner was on the verandah when we rode up. He is a professed Union man, has a safeguard from the General, etc. While waiting for the column to come up, he invited me and the officers who were with me, two of General Augur's staff, Ben and Dr. Rice, to go in and take some whiskey.

The others went in; I went on with the cavalry to the other side of the clearing, where the wood of many years' seasoning was piled. It was near the sugar-house, which was filled with sugar and molasses. Here I posted the infantry and artillery, and went with a few of the cavalry to the farther sides to reconnoitre. An old darkey told me that five rebel cavalry men stopped him in the morning, a little while before we got there, and asked him if there had been any Federal pickets there lately. I divided the cavalry into three parts, guarding the three approaches to the place, and kept one squad with me. I posted the artillery where it could hold two roads, and let the men rest on their arms, while the teams were being loaded. This took about an hour and a half. When we were ready to return, I started the rear guard, now become the advance, then the teams, then the artillery and infantry, and after they were well off, I drew in the outposts and videttes and followed with the cavalry. I dare say the enemy was watching us all the time, but wisely determined not to molest us. I was rather hoping they would, for I was all prepared for it, and had a very pretty little force under my command. We got back to camp about four P. M., after a very pleasant little trip into the country, accomplishing all we went out for, and returning without loss. The men got their canteens filled with rich New Orleans syrup, and sugar enough to sweeten their coffee .for many days.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 68-70

Brigadier-General Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith, March 18, 1864

Thursday, 18th March, on board steamer Hastings, Red River.

I resume, having no opportunity as yet to forward despatches. Having destroyed fort and blown up magazines, am now en route for Alexandria. Weather most charming, river winding through fertile, productive country. I find it impossible to write, however, with any comfort, the machinery going; shall close at Alexandria.

Arrived at Alexandria at this 6 P.M., after a pleasant passage without incidents; discover upon our arrival that the enemy, some fifteen thousand strong, have evacuated, leaving three field-pieces and an immense amount of commissary stores, cotton, sugar and molasses. My fleet is moored on the east side of the river, opposite the town, and I have debarked my troops, throwing out heavy pickets, my scouts informing me that two thousand of the enemy's cavalry are in my front, and propose to make a dash this night, a threat I don't believe, but am ready for their reception. Have received a despatch within a few moments, stating that General Lee, of General Banks's command, was at Opelousas, on the 16th, with five thousand cavalry, and that General Banks, with fifteen thousand infantry, was on the march. We are ahead of Banks some five days. I am jotting down incidents as a sort of diary; hardly know whether it will ever reach your eye.

You must be careful to trace me properly on the map. The children will not be set back in their geography by following their father's footsteps in imagination. I wish I had you all here this night. I have just been ashore inspecting my troops, and rarely has the mellow moonlight fallen upon a more romantic scene. The plain is level, covered with grassy sod, and studded with clumps of underbrush, of a growth that at night I can not distinguish; there is ample room to move about and sufficient verge for line of battle. The bright arms glittering in the moonlight are stacked upon the color line, the soldiers lie, each covered with his blanket, behind their arms; there are no camp-fires; the videttes, far in advance, can be distinguished, dismounted, but each man at his horse's head and ready at the blast of the bugle to mount; the moon is clear and the stars all out, the atmosphere serene. The gunboats lie far above and below, the transports between. One can scarcely look without a yearning for the power of word-painting to convey a portion of his pleasure, as well as regret that all the world, at least his friends in it, cannot share his feelings. There is a peculiar fascination in this wild, dangerous life, a continued exaltation and exultation; mine have been the joys of victor, continuous and continued. I have never known defeat; onward and onward, victory after victory, casting behind me, as my horse throws dust, clouds of prisoners. Three hundred and thirty-four brave men I sent down under charge of one of my lieutenant-colonels yesterday. This must change, sometime, doubtless. I may be called to-morrow, to captivity in sackcloth and ashes. God give me strength to bear, if the evil day comes. I write wildly and hurriedly to-night. To-morrow, perhaps, I shall have leisure to give you something like a home letter. Did I say I wish you were here? God forbid, except that you might be translated straightway back.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 359-60

From Louisville

Two thoroughly reliable Kentuckians just arrived from New Orleans, and report that all along the Mississippi river from Memphis to New Orleans is one general bonfire of property – particularly of cotton – of which 11,700 bales were burned at New Orleans.  At Memphis sugar and molasses in large quantities are on the bluff ready to be rolled into the river, and all the stock of cotton to be fired on the approach of the Federal fleet.

The people on the river towns are retreating inward and destroying property along all the southern tributaries of the Mississippi.

The planters in many cases are applying the torch to their own cotton.

The rebel government has also boats running up the rivers destroying cotton.  Among a great number of planters only one was found who objected to the burning of his cotton.

– Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Saturday Morning, May 10, 1862, p. 1