Charlotte Cross Wigfall to Louise Wigfall, April 26, 1861

montgomery, April 26.

The people here are all in fine spirits, and the streets are so lively and every one looks so happy, that you can scarcely realize the cause of the excitement. No one doubts our success.  . . . I suppose the chief fighting will be in Maryland and Virginia.  . . . This is a beautiful town and much larger than I expected to see it. There are a great many gardens, and as beautiful flowers as I ever saw anywhere. Several bouquets of the most superb flowers were presented to your father the night he spoke here and, of course, I had the benefit of them. The streets are very wide, and five of them unite, and diverge on the square opposite us. Something like Washington.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 49-50

Diary of William Howard Russell: April 4, 1861

I had a long interview with Mr. Seward today at the State Department. He set forth at great length the helpless condition in which the President and the Cabinet found themselves when they began the conduct of public affairs at Washington. The last cabinet had tampered with treason, and had contained traitors; a miserable imbecility had encouraged the leaders of the South to mature their plans, and had furnished them with the means of carrying out their design. One Minister had purposely sent away the navy of the United States to distant and scattered stations; another had purposely placed the arms, ordnance, and munitions of war in undue proportions in the Southern States, and had weakened the Federal Government so that they might easily fall into the hands of the traitors and enable them to secure the war materiel of the Union; a Minister had stolen the public funds for traitorous purposes — in every port, in every department of the State, at home and abroad, on sea and by land, men were placed who were engaged in this deep conspiracy — and when the voice of the people declared Mr. Lincoln President of the United States, they set to work as one man to destroy the Union under the most flimsy pretexts. The President's duty was clearly defined by the Constitution. He had to guard what he had, and to regain, if possible, what he had lost. He would not consent to any dismemberment of the Union nor to the abandonment of one iota of Federal property— nor could he do so if he desired.

These and many more topics were presented to me to show that the Cabinet was not accountable for the temporizing policy of inaction, which was forced upon them by circumstances, and that they would deal vigorously with the Secession movement — as vigorously as Jackson did with nullification in South Carolina, if they had the means. But what could they do when such a man as Twiggs surrendered his trust and sacrificed the troops to a crowd of Texans; or when naval and military officers resigned en masse, that they might accept service in the rebel forces? All this excitement would come right in a very short time — it was a brief madness, which would pass away when the people had opportunity for reflection. Meantime the danger was that foreign powers would be led to imagine the Federal Government was too weak to defend its rights, and that the attempt to destroy the Union and to set up a Southern Confederacy was successful. In other words, again, Mr. Seward fears that, in this transition state between their forced inaction and the coup by which they intend to strike down Secession, Great Britain may recognize the Government established at Montgomery, and is ready, if needs be, to threaten Great Britain with war as the consequence of such recognition. But he certainly assumed the existence of strong Union sentiments in many of the seceded States, as a basis for his remarks, and admitted that it would not become the spirit of the American Government, or of the Federal system, to use armed force in subjugating the Southern States against the will of the majority of the people. Therefore if the majority desire Secession, Mr. Seward would let them have it — but he cannot believe in anything so monstrous, for to him the Federal Government and Constitution, as interpreted by his party, are divine, heaven-born. He is fond of repeating that the Federal Government never yet sacrificed any man's life on account of his political opinions; but if this struggle goes on, it will sacrifice thousands — tens of thousands, to the idea of a Federal Union. “Any attempt against us,” he said, “would revolt the good men of the South, and arm all men in the North to defend their Government.”

But I had seen that day an assemblage of men doing a goose-step march forth dressed in blue tunics and gray trousers, shakoes and cross-belts, armed with musket and bayonet, cheering and hurrahing in the square before the War Department, who were, I am told, the District of Columbia volunteers and militia. They had indeed been visible in various forms parading, marching, and trumpeting about the town with a poor imitation of French pas and élan, but they did not, to the eye of a soldier, give any appearance of military efficiency, or to the eye of the anxious statesman any indication of the animus pugnandi. Starved, washed-out creatures most of them, interpolated with Irish and flat-footed, stumpy Germans. It was matter for wonderment that the Foreign Minister of a nation which was in such imminent danger in its very capital, and which, with its chief and his cabinet, was almost at the mercy of the enemy, should hold the language I was aware he had transmitted to the most powerful nations of Europe. Was it consciousness of the strength of a great people, who would be united by the first apprehension of foreign interference, or was it the peculiar emptiness of a bombast which is called Buncombe? In all sincerity I think Mr. Seward meant it as it was written.

When I arrived at the hotel, I found our young artist waiting for me, to entreat I would permit him to accompany me to the South. I had been annoyed by a paragraph which had appeared in several papers, to the effect that “The talented young artist, our gifted countryman, Mr. Deodore F. Moses, was about to accompany Mr. &c. &c, in his tour through the South.” I had informed the young gentleman that I could not sanction such an announcement, whereupon he assured me he had not in any way authorized it, but having mentioned incidentally to a person connected with the press that he was going to travel southwards with me, the injudicious zeal of his friend had led him to think he would do a service to the youth by making the most of the very trifling circumstance.

I dined with Senator Douglas, where there was a large party, among whom were Mr. Chase, Secretary of the Treasury; Mr. Smith, Secretary of the Interior; Mr. Forsyth, Southern Commissioner; and several members of the Senate and Congress. Mrs. Douglas did the honors of her house with grace and charming good-nature. I observe a great tendency to abstract speculation and theorizing among Americans, and their after-dinner conversation is apt to become didactic and sententious. Few men speak better than Senator Douglas; his words are well chosen, the flow of his ideas even and constant, his intellect vigorous, and thoughts well cut, precise, and vigorous — he seems a man of great ambition, and he told me he is engaged in preparing a sort of Zollverein scheme for the North American continent, including Canada, which will fix public attention everywhere, and may lead to a settlement of the Northern and Southern controversies. For his mind, as for that of many Americans, the aristocratic idea embodied in Russia is very seductive; and he dwelt with pleasure on the courtesies he had received at the court of the Czar, implying that he had been treated differently in England, and perhaps France. And yet, had Mr. Douglas become President of the United States, his good-will towards Great Britain might have been invaluable, and surely it had been cheaply purchased by a little civility and attention to a distinguished citizen and statesman of the Republic. Our Galleos very often care for none of these things.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 60-3

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: May 24, 1862

The enemy are landing at Georgetown. With a little more audacity where could they not land? But we have given them such a scare, they are cautious. If it be true, I hope some cool-headed white men will make the negroes save the rice for us. It is so much needed. They say it might have been done at Port Royal with a little more energy. South Carolinians have pluck enough, but they only work by fits and starts; there is no continuous effort; they can't be counted on for steady work. They will stop to play — or enjoy life in some shape.

Without let or hindrance Halleck is being reenforced. Beauregard, unmolested, was making some fine speeches — and issuing proclamations, while we were fatuously looking for him to make a tiger's spring on Huntsville. Why not? Hope springs eternal in the Southern breast.

My Hebrew friend, Mem Cohen, has a son in the war. He is in John Chesnut's company. Cohen is a high name among the Jews: it means Aaron. She has long fits of silence, and is absent-minded. If she is suddenly roused, she is apt to say, with overflowing eyes and clasped hands, “If it please God to spare his life.” Her daughter is the sweetest little thing. The son is the mother's idol. Mrs. Cohen was Miriam de Leon. I have known her intimately all my life.

Mrs. Bartow, the widow of Colonel Bartow, who was killed at Manassas, was Miss Berrien, daughter of Judge Berrien, of Georgia. She is now in one of the departments here, cutting bonds — Confederate bonds — for five hundred Confederate dollars a year, a penniless woman. Judge Carroll, her brother-in-law, has been urgent with her to come and live in his home. He has a large family and she will not be an added burden to him. In spite of all he can say, she will not forego her resolution. She will be independent. She is a resolute little woman, with the softest, silkiest voice and ways, and clever to the last point.

Columbia is the place for good living, pleasant people, pleasant dinners, pleasant drives. I feel that I have put the dinners in the wrong place. They are the climax of the good things here. This is the most hospitable place in the world, and the dinners are worthy of it.

In Washington, there was an endless succession of state dinners. I was kindly used. I do not remember ever being condemned to two dull neighbors: on one side or the other was a clever man; so I liked Washington dinners.

In Montgomery, there were a few dinners — Mrs. Pollard's, for instance, but the society was not smoothed down or in shape. Such as it was it was given over to balls and suppers. In Charleston, Mr. Chesnut went to gentlemen's dinners all the time; no ladies present. Flowers were sent to me, and I was taken to drive and asked to tea. There could not have been nicer suppers, more perfect of their kind than were to be found at the winding up of those festivities.

In Richmond, there were balls, which I did not attend — very few to which I was asked: the MacFarlands' and Lyons's, all I can remember. James Chesnut dined out nearly every day. But then the breakfasts — the Virginia breakfasts — where were always pleasant people. Indeed, I have had a good time everywhere — always clever people, and people I liked, and everybody so good to me.

Here in Columbia, family dinners are the specialty. You call, or they pick you up and drive home with you. “Oh, stay to dinner!” and you stay gladly. They send for your husband, and he comes willingly. Then comes a perfect dinner. You do not see how it could be improved; and yet they have not had time to alter things or add because of the unexpected guests. They have everything of the best — silver, glass, china, table linen, and damask, etc. And then the planters live “within themselves,” as they call it. From the plantations come mutton, beef, poultry, cream, butter, eggs, fruits, and vegetables.

It is easy to live here, with a cook who has been sent for training to the best eating-house in Charleston. Old Mrs. Chesnut's Romeo was apprenticed at Jones's. I do not know where Mrs. Preston's got his degree, but he deserves a medal.

At the Prestons', James Chesnut induced Buck to declaim something about Joan of Arc, which she does in a manner to touch all hearts. While she was speaking, my husband turned to a young gentleman who was listening to the chatter of several girls, and said: "Ecoutez!" The youth stared at him a moment in bewilderment; then, gravely rose and began turning down the gas. Isabella said: “Écoutez, then, means put out the lights.”

I recall a scene which took place during a ball given by Mrs. Preston while her husband was in Louisiana. Mrs. Preston was resplendent in diamonds, point lace, and velvet. There is a gentle dignity about her which is very attractive; her voice is low and sweet, and her will is iron. She is exceedingly well informed, but very quiet, retiring, and reserved. Indeed, her apparent gentleness almost amounts to timidity. She has chiseled regularity of features, a majestic figure, perfectly molded.

Governor Manning said to me: “Look at Sister Caroline. Does she look as if she had the pluck of a heroine?” Then he related how a little while ago William, the butler, came to tell her that John, the footman, was drunk in the cellar — mad with drink; that he had a carving-knife which he was brandishing in drunken fury, and he was keeping everybody from their business, threatening to kill any one who dared to go into the basement. They were like a flock of frightened sheep down there. She did not speak to one of us, but followed William down to the basement, holding up her skirts. She found the servants scurrying everywhere, screaming and shouting that John was crazy and going to kill them. John was bellowing like a bull of Bashan, knife in hand, chasing them at his pleasure.

Mrs. Preston walked up to him. “Give me that knife,” she demanded. He handed it to her. She laid it on the table. “Now come with me,” she said, putting her hand on his collar. She led him away to the empty smoke-house, and there she locked him in and put the key in her pocket. Then she returned to her guests, without a ripple on her placid face. “She told me of it, smiling and serene as you see her now,” the Governor concluded.

Before the war shut him in, General Preston sent to the lakes for his salmon, to Mississippi for his venison, to the mountains for his mutton and grouse. It is good enough, the best dish at all these houses, what the Spanish call “the hearty welcome.” Thackeray says at every American table he was first served with “grilled hostess.” At the head of the table sat a person, fiery-faced, anxious, nervous, inwardly murmuring, like Falstaff, “Would it were night, Hal, and all were well.”

At Mulberry the house is always filled to overflowing, and one day is curiously like another. People are coming and going, carriages driving up or driving off. It has the air of a watering-place, where one does not pay, and where there are no strangers. At Christmas the china closet gives up its treasures. The glass, china, silver, fine linen reserved for grand occasions come forth. As for the dinner itself, it is only a matter of greater quantity — more turkey, more mutton, more partridges, more fish, etc., and more solemn stiffness. Usually a half-dozen persons unexpectedly dropping in make no difference. The family let the housekeeper know; that is all.

People are beginning to come here from Richmond. One swallow does not make a summer, but it shows how the wind blows, these straws do — Mrs. “Constitution” Browne and Mrs. Wise. The Gibsons are at Doctor Gibbes's. It does look squally. We are drifting on the breakers.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 165-9

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 6, 1861

We have hard work at the War Department, and some confusion owing to the loss of a box of papers in transitu from Montgomery. I am not a betting man, but I would wager a trifle that the contents of the box are in the hands of some correspondent of the New York Herald or Tribune. Our careless people think that valor alone will win the day. The Yankees desire, above all things, information of our condition and movements, of which they will take advantage. We must learn by dear-bought experience.

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

Diary of William Howard Russell: March 23, 1861

It is announced positively that the authorities in Pensacola and Charleston have refused to allow any further supplies to be sent to Fort Pickens, the United States fleet in the Gulf, and to Fort Sumter. Everywhere the Southern leaders are forcing on a solution with decision and energy, whilst the Government appears to be helplessly drifting with the current of events, having neither bow nor stern, neither keel nor deck, neither rudder, compass, sails, or steam. Mr. Seward has declined to receive or hold any intercourse with the three gentlemen called Southern Commissioners, who repaired to Washington accredited by the Government and Congress of the Seceding States now sitting at Montgomery, so that there is no channel of mediation or means of adjustment left open. I hear, indeed, that Government is secretly preparing what force it can to strengthen the garrison at Pickens, and to reinforce Sumter at any hazard; but that its want of men, ships, and money compels it to temporize, lest the Southern authorities should forestall their designs by a vigorous attack on the enfeebled forts.

There is, in reality, very little done by New York to support or encourage the Government in any decided policy, and the journals are more engaged now in abusing each other, and in small party aggressive warfare, than in the performance of the duties of a patriotic press, whose mission at such a time is beyond all question the resignation of little differences for the sake of the whole country, and an entire devotion to its safety, honor, and integrity. But the New York people must have their intellectual drams every morning, and it matters little what the course of Government may be, so long as the aristocratic democrat can be amused by ridicule of the Great Rail Splitter, or a vivid portraiture of Mr. Horace Greeley's old coat, hat, breeches, and umbrella. The coarsest personalities are read with gusto, and attacks of a kind which would not have been admitted into the “Age” or “Satirist” in their worst days, form the staple leading articles of one or two of the most largely circulated journals in the city. “Slang” in its worst Americanized form is freely used in sensation headings and leaders, and a class of advertisements which are not allowed to appear in respectable English papers, have possession of columns of the principal newspapers, few, indeed, excluding them. It is strange, too, to see in journals which profess to represent the civilization and intelligence of the most enlightened and highly educated people on the face of the earth, advertisements of sorcerers, wizards, and fortunetellers by the score — “wonderful clairvoyants,” “the seventh child of a seventh child,” “mesmeristic necromancers,” and the like, who can tell your thoughts as soon as you enter the room, can secure the affections you prize, give lucky numbers in lotteries, and make everybody's fortunes but their own. Then there are the most impudent quack programmes — very doubtful “personals” addressed to “the young lady with black hair and blue eyes, who got out of the omnibus at the corner of 7th Street” — appeals by “a lady about to be confined” to “any respectable person who is desirous of adopting a child:” all rather curious reading for a stranger, or for a family.

It is not to be expected, of course, that New York is a very pure city, for more than London or Paris it is the sewer of nations. It is a city of luxury also — French and Italian cooks and milliners, German and Italian musicians, high prices, extravagant tastes and dressing, money readily made, a life in, hotels, bar-rooms, heavy gambling, sporting, and prize-fighting flourish here, and combine to lower the standard of the bourgeoisie at all events. Where wealth is the sole aristocracy, there is great danger of mistaking excess and profusion for elegance and good taste. To-day as I was going down Broadway, some dozen or more of the most over-dressed men I ever saw were pointed out to me as “sports;” that is, men who lived by gambling-houses and betting on races; and the class is so numerous that it has its own influence, particularly at elections, when the power of a hard-hitting prize-fighter with a following makes itself unmistakably felt. Young America essays to look like martial France in mufti, but the hat and the coat suited to the Colonel of Carabiniers en retraite do not at all become the thin, tall, rather long-faced gentlemen one sees lounging about Broadway. It is true, indeed, the type, though not French, is not English. The characteristics of the American are straight hair, keen, bright, penetrating eyes, and want of color in the cheeks.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 26-8

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 27, 1861

We leave Montgomery day after to-morrow. The President goes to-day — but quietly — no one, not connected with the Government, to have information of the fact until his arrival in Richmond. It is understood that the Minister of Justice (Attorney-General) accompanies him. There are a great number of spies and emissaries in the country — sufficient, if it were known when the train would pass, to throw it off the track. This precaution is taken by the friends of the President.

The day is pretty much occupied in the packing of boxes. It is astonishing how vast a volume of papers accumulates in a short space of time — but when we consider the number of applications for office, the wonder ceases.

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

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 9, 1861

Our battle summer. May it be our first and our last, so called. After all we have not had any of the horrors of war. Could there have been a gayer, or pleasinter, life than we led in Charleston. And Montgomery, how exciting it all was there! So many clever men and women congregated from every part of the South. Mosquitoes, and a want of neatness, and a want of good things to eat, drove us away. In Richmond the girls say it is perfectly delightful. We found it so, too, but the bickering and quarreling have begun there.

At table to-day we heard Mrs. Davis's ladies described. They were said to wear red frocks and flats on their heads. We sat mute as mice. One woman said she found the drawing-room of the Spotswood was warm, stuffy, and stifling. “Poor soul,” murmured the inevitable Brewster, “and no man came to air her in the moonlight stroll, you know. Why didn't somebody ask her out on the piazza to see the comet?” Heavens above, what philandering was done in the name of the comet! When you stumbled on a couple on the piazza they lifted their eyes, and “comet” was the only word you heard. Brewster came back with a paper from Washington with terrific threats of what they will do to us. Threatened men live long.

There was a soft, sweet, low, and slow young lady opposite to us. She seemed so gentle and refined, and so uncertain of everything. Mr. Brewster called her Miss Albina McClush, who always asked her maid when a new book was mentioned, “Seraphina, have I perused that volume?”

Mary Hammy, having a fiance in the wars, is inclined at times to be sad and tearful. Mrs. Preston quoted her negro nurse to her: “Never take any more trouble in your heart than you can kick off at the end of your toes.”

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 79

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 15, 1861

From my window at the top of the house, I see corn in silk and tassel. Three days ago the corn I saw was not three inches high. And blackberries are in season. Strawberries and peas are gone.

This city is mostly situated in a bottom on the Alabama River.

Being fatigued I did not visit the departments to day, but employed myself in securing lodgings at a boarding-house. Here I met, the first time, with my friend Dr. W. T. Sawyer, of Hollow Square, Alabama. A skillful surgeon and Christian gentleman, his mission on earth seems to be one of pure beneficence. He had known me before we met, it appears; and I must say he did me many kind offices.

In the afternoon I walked to the capitol, a fine structure with massive columns, on a beautiful elevation, where I delivered several letters to the Virginia delegation in Congress. They were exceedingly kind to me, and proffered their services very freely.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 35-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 14, 1861

The weather is very warm. Day before yesterday the wheat was only six or eight inches high. To-day it is two or three feet in height, headed, and almost ripe for the scythe.

At every station [where I can write a little] we see crowds of men, and women, and boys; and during our pauses some of the passengers, often clergymen, and not unfrequently Northern born, address them in soul-stirring strains of patriotic eloquence. If Uncle Abe don't find subjugation of this country, and of such a people as this, is truly a “big job” on his hands, I am much mistaken.

Passed the Stone Mountain at 11 o'clock A.M. It appears at a distance like a vast artificial formation, resembling the pictures of the pyramids.

Arrived at Montgomery 10 o'clock P.M., and put up at the Montgomery House. The mosquitoes bled me all night. Mosquitoes in the middle of May! And as they never cease to bite till killed by the frost, the pest here is perennial.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 35

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: May 25, 1861

CHARLESTON, S. C. — We have come back to South Carolina from the Montgomery Congress, stopping over at Mulberry. We came with R. M. T. Hunter and Mr. Barnwell. Mr. Barnwell has excellent reasons for keeping cotton at home, but I forget what they are. Generally, people take what he says, also Mr. Hunter's wisdom, as unanswerable. Not so Mr. Chesnut, who growls at both, much as he likes them. We also had Tom Lang and his wife, and Doctor Boykin. Surely there never was a more congenial party. The younger men had been in the South Carolina College while Mr. Barnwell was President. Their love and respect for him were immeasurable and he benignly received it, smiling behind those spectacles. Met John Darby at Atlanta and told him he was Surgeon of the Hampton Legion, which delighted him. He had had adventures. With only a few moments on the platform to interchange confidences, he said he had remained a little too long in the Medical College in Philadelphia, where he was some kind of a professor, and they had been within an ace of hanging him as a Southern spy. “Rope was ready,” he sniggered. At Atlanta when he unguardedly said he was fresh from Philadelphia, he barely escaped lynching, being taken for a Northern spy. “Lively life I am having among you, on both sides,” he said, hurrying away. And I moaned, “Here was John Darby like to have been killed by both sides, and no time to tell me the curious coincidences.” What marvelous experiences a little war begins to produce.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 57-8

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 12, 1861

To-day I set out for Montgomery. The weather was bright and pleasant. It is Sunday. In the cars are many passengers going to tender their services, and all imbued with the same inflexible purpose. The corn in the fields of Virginia is just becoming visible; and the trees are beginning to disclose their foliage.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 34

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: May 20, 1861

Lunched at Mrs. Davis's; everything nice to eat, and I was ravenous. For a fortnight I have not even gone to the dinner table. Yesterday I was forced to dine on cold asparagus and blackberries, so repulsive in aspect was the other food they sent me. Mrs. Davis was as nice as the luncheon. When she is in the mood, I do not know so pleasant a person. She is awfully clever, always.

We talked of this move from Montgomery. Mr. Chesnut opposes it violently, because this is so central a position for our government. He wants our troops sent into Maryland in order to make our fight on the border, and so to encompass Washington. I see that the uncomfortable hotels here will at last move the Congress. Our statesmen love their ease, and it will be hot here in summer. “I do hope they will go,” Mrs. Davis said. “The Yankees will make it hot for us, go where we will, and truly so if war comes.” “And it has come,” said I. “Yes, I fancy these dainty folks may live to regret losing even the fare of the Montgomery hotels.” “Never.”

Mr. Chesnut has three distinct manias. The Maryland scheme is one, and he rushes off to Jeff Davis, who, I dare say, has fifty men every day come to him with infallible plans to save the country. If only he can keep his temper. Mrs. Davis says he answers all advisers in softly modulated, dulcet accents.

What a rough menagerie we have here. And if nice people come to see you, up walks an irate Judge, who engrosses the conversation and abuses the friends of the company generally; that is, abuses everybody and prophesies every possible evil to the country, provided he finds that denouncing your friends does not sufficiently depress you. Everybody has manias — up North, too, by the papers. But of Mr. Chesnut's three crazes: Maryland is to be made the seat of war, old Morrow's idea of buying up steamers abroad for our coast defenses should be adopted, and, last of all, but far from the least, we must make much cotton and send it to England as a bank to draw on. The very cotton we have now, if sent across the water, would be a gold mine to us.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 55-6

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: May 13, 1861

We have been down from Montgomery on the boat to that God-forsaken landing, Portland, Ala. Found everybody drunk — that is, the three men who were there. At last secured a carriage to carry us to my brother-in-law's house. Mr. Chesnut had to drive seven miles, pitch dark, over an unknown road. My heart was in my mouth, which last I did not open. Next day a patriotic person informed us that, so great was the war fever only six men could be found in Dallas County. I whispered to Mr. Chesnut: “We found three of the lone ones hors de combat at Portland.” So much for the corps of reserves — alcoholized patriots. Saw for the first time the demoralization produced by hopes of freedom. My mother's butler (whom I taught to read, sitting on his knife-board) contrived to keep from speaking to us. He was as efficient as ever in his proper place, but he did not come behind the scenes as usual and have a friendly chat. Held himself aloof so grand and stately we had to send him a “tip” through his wife Hetty, mother's maid, who, however, showed no signs of disaffection. She came to my bedside next morning with everything that was nice for breakfast. She had let me sleep till midday, and embraced me over and over again. I remarked: “What a capital cook they have here!” She curtsied to the ground. “I cooked every mouthful on that tray — as if I did not know what you liked to eat since you was a baby.”

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 52-3

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 8, 1861

The Convention has appointed five members of Congress to go to Montgomery: Messrs. Hunter, Rives, Brockenborough, Staples, and I have not yet seen Mr. Hunter; he has made no speeches, but no doubt he has done all in his power to secure the passage of the ordinance, in his quiet but effective way. To-day President Tyler remarked that the politicians in the Convention had appointed a majority of the members from the old opposition party. The President would certainly have been appointed, if it had not been understood he did not desire it. Debilitated from a protracted participation in the exciting scenes of the Convention, he could not bear the fatigue of so long a journey at this season of the year.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 32-3

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 29, 1861

I wrote to my agent on the Eastern Shore to send me the last year's rent due on the farm. But I learn that the cruisers in the bay are intercepting the communications, and I fear remittances will be impracticable. I hope my family are ready by this to leave Burlington. Women and children have not yet been interfered with. What if they should be compelled to abandon our property there? Mrs. Semple had her plate seized at New York.

At fifty-one, I can hardly follow the pursuit of arms; but I will write and preserve a Diary of the revolution. I never held or sought office in my life; but now President Tyler and Gov. Wise say I will find employment at Montgomery. The latter will prepare a letter to President Davis, and the former says he will draw up a paper in my behalf, and take it through the Convention himself for signatures. I shall be sufficiently credentialed, at all events — provided old partisan considerations are banished from the new confederacy. To make my Diary full and complete as possible, is now my business. And,

"When the hurly-burly's done,

When the battle's lost and won,"

if the South wins it, I shall be content to retire to my farm, provided it falls on the Southern side of the line, and enjoy sweet repose “under my own vine and fig-tree.”

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 29

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 28, 1861

Saw Judge Scarburg, who has resigned his seat in the Court of Claims at Washington. I believe he brought his family, and abandoned his furniture, etc. Also Dr. Garnett, who left most of his effects in the hands of the enemy. He was a marked man, being the son-in-law of Gov. Wise.

Many clerks are passing through the city on their way to Montgomery, where they are sure to find employment. Lucky men, some of them! They have eaten Lincoln bread for more than a month, and most of them would have been turned out of office if there had been no secession. And I observe among them some who have left their wives behind to take care of their homes.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 29

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: March 1, 1861

Dined to-day with Mr. Hill¹ from Georgia, and his wife. After he left us she told me he was the celebrated individual who, for Christian scruples, refused to fight a duel with Stephens.² She seemed very proud of him for his conduct in the affair. Ignoramus that I am, I had not heard of it. I am having all kinds of experiences. Drove to-day with a lady who fervently wished her husband would go down to Pensacola and be shot. I was dumb with amazement, of course. Telling my story to one who knew the parties, was informed, “Don't you know he beats her?” So I have seen a man “who lifts his hand against a woman in aught save kindness.”

Brewster says Lincoln passed through Baltimore disguised, and at night, and that he did well, for just now Baltimore is dangerous ground. He says that he hears from all quarters that the vulgarity of Lincoln, his wife, and his son is beyond credence, a thing you must see before you can believe it. Senator Stephen A. Douglas told Mr. Chesnut that “Lincoln is awfully clever, and that he had found him a heavy handful.”

Went to pay my respects to Mrs. Jefferson Davis. She met me with open arms. We did not allude to anything by which we are surrounded. We eschewed politics and our changed relations.

_______________

¹ Benjamin H. Hill, who had already been active in State and National affairs when the Secession movement was carried through. He had been an earnest advocate of the Union until in Georgia the resolution was passed declaring that the State ought to secede. He then became a prominent supporter of secession. He was a member of the Confederate Congress, which met in Montgomery in 1861, and served in the Confederate Senate until the end of the war. After the war, he was elected to Congress and opposed the Reconstruction policy of that body. In 1877 he was elected United States Senator from Georgia.

² Governor Herschel V. Johnson also declined, and doubtless for similar reasons, to accept a challenge from Alexander H. Stephens, who, though endowed with the courage of a gladiator, was very small and frail.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 11-2

Senator John Sherman to Major General William T. Sherman, September 4, 1864

[MANSFIELD, OHIO, September 4, 1864.]

We have just heard of the occupation of Atlanta by your forces, and that a battle had occurred at West Point, in which Harvie was killed and our side victorious. This is glorious news, and I sincerely congratulate you on your part of a campaign remarkable for the difficulties overcome, and for your skill and energy. As the possession of Atlanta was the ostensible point of your whole campaign, its possession is a complete triumph, though I suppose it the beginning of new movements. You will be assisted by the capture of Mobile, and I hope by the gunboat occupation of the river to Montgomery. From the map I judge that Atlanta is about equally distant from Augusta and Montgomery, the occupation of either of which would cut in two the Confederacy. We are looking for details of your recent movements with anxiety. . . .

The nomination of McClellan makes a closer fight in the political arena than I hoped. . . .

I believe Lincoln's election necessary to prevent disunion, and support him with all my might.

SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, p. 239

Chivalric Warriors

It was the chivalry of South Carolina who started the rebellion.  It was they who led off in the drama of secession.  The first company of volunteers against the Union was raised in the Palmetto State.  The first rebel gun was fired on the sacred soil of that wayward and pettish Commonwealth.  From Charleston and Columbia, its only cities, came the original statements of the universal cowardice and poltroonery of the “Yankees,” and those lofty boasts of the invincible courage of the citizens of South Carolina, who “could whip five to one of Lincoln’s mercenaries.”  Well, we have had nearly a year of war.  Where have the South Carolinians distinguished themselves?  They gathered some eight or ten thousand men, with the assistance of North Carolina and Georgia, about the harbor of Charleston, planted miles of batteries, drove out to sea the Star of the West, an unarmed transport, and compelled a garrison of less than one hundred men to evacuate Fort Sumter.  This is the sum of their glorious achievements.  At Bull Run the South Carolina troops were the first to run, whilst the Federals were in the tide of their first successes on that bloody field.  At Port Royal they scampered like sheep at the approach of the Federal fleet.  And this is the whole record of the Palmetto chivalry in the secession war.  Amongst the killed and wounded rebels in the bulletins of the engagements of this year, you look in vain for those belonging to South Carolina regiments.  They do not die in the last ditch.  They fail to offer themselves up as sacrifices for their bleeding country.  They do not exterminate the race of Yankees.  Whilst the record of the rebel Virginians, Tennesseans and others of the more Northern States of Secessia is full of valor and heroic daring, South Carolina, with all her vain-glorious vaunting, presents a page that is densely blank.  So much for barking dogs that will not bite!

The original seceders made a good thing of it when, finding there was going to be fighting to do, they coaxed the border States into their causeless and cruel war.  This explains their anxiety to get Missouri, Kentucky and Maryland into their Confederate concern, after they had succeeded in seducing Virginia, Tennessee, North Carolina and Arkansas. – The brunt of the hard work, the raising of men and means, and the fighting itself, has all fallen on the poor dupes that were cajoled into Secessionism after the rebel government was organized at Montgomery, whilst the aristocratic gentlemen of the cotton States have had comparatively an easy time of it.  These latter congratulated themselves that the horrors of war would be kept far away from their immediate neighborhoods, but they are soon to find out – indeed, they are having a taste of it already – that they reckoned without their host.  We feel exceedingly sorry, of course, for the people of Charleston, whom late reports represent as getting very much frightened. – {St. Louis Republican.

– Published in the Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, April 12, 1862, p. 4