Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 9, 1862

Early this morning I was at the depot. The superintendent suggested that I should send some one to Weldon in search of the trunk. He proffered to pass him free. This was kind; but I desired first to look among the baggage at the depot, and the baggage-master was called in. Only two were unclaimed last night; but he said a gentleman had been there early in the morning looking for his trunk, who stated that by some mistake he had got the wrong one last night. He said he stopped at the Exchange, and I repaired thither without delay, where I found my trunk, to the mutual joy of the traveler and myself. It was sent to the cottage, and the stranger's taken to the hotel. Had it not been for my lucky discovery, we should have had no spoons, forks, etc.

My wife has obviated one of the difficulties of the blockade, by a substitute for coffee, which I like very well. It is simply corn meal, toasted like coffee, and served in the same manner. It costs five or six cents per pound — coffee, $2.50.

I heard a foolish North Carolinian abusing the administration to-day. He said, among other things, that the President himself, and his family, had Northern proclivities. That the President's family, when they fled from Richmond, in May, took refuge at St. Mary's Hall, Raleigh, the establishment of the Rev. Dr. Smedes, a Northern man of open and avowed partiality for the Union; and that the Rev. Dr. Mason of the same place, with whom they were in intimate association, was a Northern man, and an open Unionist. That the President's aid, and late Assistant Secretary of State, was an Englishman, imported from the North; Gen. Cooper, the highest in rank of any military officer, was a Northern man; Col. Gorgas, Chief of Ordnance, was also a Northern man; Gen. Lovell, who was in the defeat at Corinth, and who had surrendered New Orleans, was from Pennsylvania; Gen. Smith, in command of Virginia and North Carolina, from New York; and Gen. Winder, commanding this metropolis, a Marylander, and his detectives strangers and aliens, who sold passports to Lincoln's spies for $100 each. He was furious, and swore all the distresses of the people were owing to a Nero like despotism, originating in the brain of Benjamin, the Jew, whose wife lived in Paris.

The Senate, yesterday, passed the following resolutions, almost unanimously:

1st. Resolved by the Congress of the Confederate States of America, That no officer of the Confederate Government is by law empowered to vest Provost Marshals with any authority whatever over citizens of the Confederate States not belonging to the land or naval forces thereof or with general police powers and duties for the preservation of the peace and good order of any city, town, or municipal district in any State of this Confederacy, and any such exercise of authority is illegal and void.

2d. Resolved, That no officer of the Confederate Government has constitutional or other lawful authority to limit or restrict, or in any manner to control the exercise of the jurisdiction of the civil judicial tribunals of the States of this Confederacy, vested in them by the constitutions and laws of the States respectively, and all orders of any such officer, tending to restrict or control or interfere with the full and normal exercise of the jurisdiction of such civil judicial tribunals are illegal and void.

3d. Resolved, That the military law of the Confederate States is, by the courts and the enactments of Congress, limited to the land and naval forces and the militia when in actual service, and to such other persons as are within the lines of any army, navy, corps, division or brigade of the army of the Confederate States.

Yesterday, the Dispatch contained an article, copied from the Philadelphia Inquirer, stating that a certain person who had been in prison here, arrested by order of Gen. Winder, for disloyalty, and for attempting to convey information to the enemy, had succeeded in obtaining his release; and, for a bribe of $100, a passport to leave the Confederacy had been procured from Gen. Winder's alien detectives. The passport is printed in the Philadelphia paper, and the bearer, the narrative says, has entered the United States service.

This must have been brought to the attention of the President; for a lady, seeking a passport to go to her son, sick and in prison in the North, told me that when she applied to Gen. Winder today, he said the President had ordered him to issue no more passports. And subsequently several parties, government agents and others, came to me with orders from the Secretary (which I retain on file), to issue passports for them. I hope this may be the end of Winder's reign.

A letter from Gen. Lee states that, in view of certain movements, he had, without waiting for instructions, delivered the sword, horse, etc. of Gen. Kearney, lately killed, to his wife, who had made application for them. The movements referred to we shall know more about in a few days.

Gen. Van Dorn dispatches the department that his army is safe; that he took thirteen guns and 700 prisoners. So it was not so disastrous a defeat. But the idea of charging five times his number!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 165-7

Major Charles Fessenden Morse: October 15, 1863

Wartrace, Tenn., October 15, 1863.

You see where I am at once, but before telling you how it came about I will go back a little. My last letter was from Nashville, dated the 8th. The next day, Friday, the railroad was reopened. I took a train about two, P. M., and started to find my regiment. At Murfreesboro, where we arrived about five, I came across General Williams and staff, who told me that the Second was at Christiana, about ten miles further on. It was after dark before we got there, but the regiment was near at hand, and I soon found myself in camp again, much to the surprise of the Colonel and other officers, who welcomed me with open arms. That night, I returned to first principles, hard bread and coffee out of a tin cup, sleeping under a shelter tent with no covering but my rubber cloak. We were roused up before daylight in the morning, to start on a long march towards Tullahoma. I started on foot, but one of General Ruger's aides soon after furnished me with an ancient Government animal which had been turned away as unfit for service and was caparisoned with a saddle and bridle of the country, in a very lamentable state of decay; however, this was better than walking, so I mounted him, not without serious misgivings that I should suddenly be lowered to the ground by reason of his knees giving way under him. This did occur once when I urged him to a trot, but I stuck manfully to my seat and made him rise with me.

Colonel Cogswell's charger was also of the Rosinante pattern, and being white showed his “points” to a still greater advantage. Thus mounted, you can imagine we did not make a very imposing appearance. We marched till eight P. M., accomplishing about twenty-four miles, and camped in a corn field. We were off again before daylight the next morning, and marched fifteen miles to within four miles of Deckard, camping on the banks of the Elk Run, over which there is an important railroad bridge. For the present, this bridge is to be guarded by our regiment, the Third Wisconsin, One Hundred and Seventh New York, First Tennessee Black Regiment, a battery and a few other detachments. Our camp was right alongside of the “darks.” Their Colonel and Lieutenant Colonel came over to see us and proved to be very pleasant gentlemen; they were profuse in their offers of hospitality. This is one very noticeable characteristic of western officers; no matter how rough they are, or how much they blow for their army, etc., they are perfectly liberal in their ideas and are as hospitable as men can be, offering us horses, rations or anything else we want. They brag a great deal of the fighting and marching of the Army of the Cumberland, and pretend to think that the Army of the Potomac has done very little of either, but the western regiments in our corps give these gentlemen very emphatic information as to our fights and losses, and they seldom have as good stories to tell in return. They acknowledge to have been very severely handled both at Stone River and Chickamauga, although at the former place, the enemy retreated and we claimed a victory.

To go back to the black regiment. The night of our arrival, we all went over to see dress parade. We were told beforehand by Colonel Thompson (formerly of General Rosecrans' staff) that his men had not been in camp quite a month and had not yet been drilled on account of the heavy amount of picket duty, so we went prepared to excuse a great deal. I was very agreeably surprised by the whole appearance of the regiment; the men had a soldierly bearing, marched well, and stood in line better than nine-tenths of the white regiments I have seen. I didn't have an opportunity, myself, but the Colonel and Major both visited their picket line, and said that they never saw sentinels do their duty better. These men are nearly all of the blackest description, and very ignorant.

All our privates went over to see their parade. I would not want any severer critics. During the whole ceremony I saw no sneering or attempt to laugh, and after it was all over and the companies were marching off, our men applauded by a very hearty clapping. I looked upon this as a very strong indication of what the general feeling would be among our troops.

Monday morning, I received a telegram ordering me to report at corps headquarters at Wartrace. I was very much surprised at receiving it, as General Slocum had given me no intimation of it at Nashville. I felt sorry to leave the regiment so soon again; but, of course, there were some reasons that made me glad to get to headquarters. I received that night the written order appointing me Provost Marshal and acting Assistant Adjutant General of the Twelfth Corps.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 147-50

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 29, 1862

We have Lincoln's proclamation, freeing all the slaves from and after the 1st January next. And another, declaring martial law throughout the United States! Let the Yankees ruminate on that! Now for a fresh gathering of our clans for another harvest of blood.

On Saturday the following resolutions were reported by Mr. Semmes, from the Committee of the Judiciary, in the Senate:

“1st. That no officer of the Confederate Government is by law empowered to vest Provost Marshals with any authority whatever over citizens of the Confederate States not belonging to the land and naval forces thereof, or with general police powers and duties for the preservation of the peace and good order of any city, town, or municipal district in any State of this Confederacy, and any such exercise of authority is illegal and void.

"2d. That no officer of the Confederate Government has constitutional or other lawful authority to limit or restrict, or in any manner to control, the exercise of the jurisdiction of the civil judicial tribunals of the States of this Confederacy, vested in them by the Constitution and laws of the States respectively; and all orders of any such officer tending to restrict or control or interfere with the full and normal exercise of the jurisdiction of such civil judicial tribunals are illegal and void.”

We shall see what further action will follow. This is in marked contrast to the despotic rule in the Yankee nation. Nevertheless, the Provost Marshal here keeps his establishment in full blast. He was appointed by Gen. Winder, of Maryland, who has been temporarily subordinated by Major-Gen. Smith, of New York.

Since Gen. Smith has been in command, the enemy has made raids to Leesburg, Manassas, and even Warrenton, capturing and paroling our sick and wounded men. Who is responsible?

Accounts from Nashville state that our cavalry is beleaguering that city, and that both the United States forces there, and the inhabitants of the town, are reduced nearly to starvation.

Buell, it is said, has reached Louisville. We hope to hear soon of active operations in Kentucky.

Bragg, and Smith, and Price, and Marshall are there with abundant forces to be striking heavy blows.

Beauregard is assigned to the defense of South Carolina and Georgia.

Harper's Ferry is again occupied by the enemy — but we have removed everything captured there. The Northern papers now admit that the sanguinary battle of Sharpsburg was without result.

I sent my wife money to-day, and urged her to return to Richmond as soon as possible, as the enemy may cut the communications — being within forty miles of the railroad. How I should like to think they were cut to pieces! Then they would let us alone.

Hitherto 100,000 sick and wounded patients have been admitted into the army hospitals of this city. Of these, about 10,000 have been furloughed, 3000 discharged from the service, and only 7600 have died. At present there are 10,000 in the hospitals. There is not so much sickness this year as there was last, nor is it near so fatal.

Many of the Northern papers seem to dissent from the policy of Lincoln's proclamation, and hope that evil consequences may not grow out of it. But how can it be possible for the people of the North to submit to martial law? The government which directs and enforces so obnoxious a tyranny cannot be sure of its stability. And when the next army of invasion marches southward, it will be likely to have enemies in its rear as well as in its front. The Tribune exclaims “God bless Abraham Lincoln.” Others, even in the North, will pray for “God to him!”

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 157

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: August 20, 1862

We have now a solution of the secret of Pope's familiarity with the country. His guide and pilot is the identical Robt. Stewart who was sent here to the Provost Marshal — a prisoner. How did he get out? They say money did it.

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

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: April 3, 1865

Agitated and nervous, I turn to my diary to-night as the means of soothing my feelings. We have passed through a fatal thirty-six hours. Yesterday morning (it seems a week ago) we went, as usual, to St. James's Church, hoping for a day of peace and quietness, as well as of religious improvement and enjoyment. How short-sighted we are, and how little do we know of what is coming, either of judgment or mercy! The sermon being over, as it was the first Sunday in the month, the sacrament of the Lord's Supper was administered. The day was bright, beautiful, and peaceful, and a general quietness and repose seemed to rest upon the congregation, undisturbed by rumours and apprehensions. While the sacred elements were being administered, the sexton came in with a note to General Cooper, which was handed him as he walked from the chancel, and he immediately left the church. It made me anxious; but such things are not uncommon, and caused no excitement in the congregation. The services being over, we left the church, and as the congregations from the various churches were being mingled on Grace Street, our children, who had been at St. Paul's, joined us, on their way to the usual family gathering in our room on Sunday. After the salutations of the morning, J. remarked, in an agitated voice, to his father, that he had just returned from the War Department, and that there was sad news — General Lee's lines had been broken, and the city would probably be evacuated within twenty-four hours. Not until then did I observe that every countenance was wild with excitement. The inquiry, “What is the matter?” ran from lip to lip. Nobody seemed to hear or to answer. An old friend ran across the street, pale with excitement, repeating what J. had just told us, that unless we heard better news from General Lee the city would be evacuated. We could do nothing; no one suggested any thing to be done. We reached home with a strange, unrealizing feeling. In an hour J. (who is now Professor of Mathematics in the Naval School) received orders to accompany Captain Parker to the South with the Corps of Midshipmen. Then we began to understand that the Government was moving, and that the evacuation was indeed going on. The office-holders were now making arrangements to get off. Every car was ordered to be ready to take them south. Baggage-wagons, carts, drays, and ambulances were driving about the streets; every one was going off that could go, and now there were all the indications of alarm and excitement of every kind which could attend such an awful scene. The people were rushing up and down the streets, vehicles of all kinds were flying along, bearing goods of all sorts and people of all ages and classes who could go beyond the corporation lines. We tried to keep ourselves quiet. We could not go south, nor could we leave the city at all in this hurried way. J. and his wife had gone. The “Colonel,” with B., intended going in the northern train this morning — he to his home in Hanover County, and she to her father's house in Clarke County, as soon as she could get there. Last night, when we went out to hire a servant to go to Camp Jackson for our sister, we for the first time realized that our money was worthless here, and that we are in fact penniless. About midnight she walked in, escorted by two of the convalescent soldiers. Poor fellows! all the soldiers will go who can, but the sick and wounded must be captured. We collected in one room, and tried to comfort one another; we made large pockets and filled them with as many of our valuables as we could suspend from our waists. The gentlemen walked down to the War Office in the night to see what was going on. Alas! every sight and sound was grievous and heavy.

A telegram just received from General Lee hastened the evacuation. The public offices were all forsaken. They said that by three o'clock in the morning the work must be completed, and the city ready for the enemy to take possession. Oh, who shall tell the horror of the past night! Hope seemed to fade; none but despairing words were heard, except from a few brave hearts. Union men began to show themselves; treason walked abroad. A gloomy pall seemed to hang over us; but I do not think that any of us felt keenly, or have yet realized our overwhelming calamity. The suddenness and extent of it is too great for us to feel its poignancy at once. About two o'clock in the morning we were startled by a loud sound like thunder; the house shook and the windows rattled; it seemed like an earthquake in our midst. We knew not what it was, nor did we care. It was soon understood to be the blowing up of a magazine below the city. In a few hours another exploded on the outskirts of the city, much louder than the first, and shivering innumerable plate-glass windows all over Shockoe Hill. It was then daylight, and we were standing out upon the pavement. The Colonel and B. had just gone. Shall we ever meet again? Many ladies were now upon the streets. The lower part of the city was burning. About seven o'clock I set off to go to the central depot to see if the cars would go out. As I went from Franklin to Broad Street, and on Broad, the pavements were covered with broken glass; women, both white and coloured, were walking in multitudes from the Commissary offices and burning stores with bags of flour, meal, coffee, sugar, rolls of cotton cloth, etc.; coloured men were rolling wheelbarrows filled in the same way. I went on and on towards the depot, and as I proceeded shouts and screams became louder. The rabble rushed by me in one stream. At last I exclaimed, “Who are those shouting? What is the matter?”  I seemed to be answered by a hundred voices, “The Yankees have come.” I turned to come home, but what was my horror, when I reached Ninth Street, to see a regiment of Yankee cavalry come dashing up, yelling, shouting, hallooing, screaming! All Bedlam let loose could not have vied with them in diabolical roarings. I stood riveted to the spot; I could not move nor speak. Then I saw the iron gates of our time-hououred and beautiful Capitol Square, on the walks and greensward of which no hoof had been allowed to tread, thrown open and the cavalry dash in. I could see no more; I must go on with a mighty effort, or faint where I stood. I came home amid what I thought was the firing of cannon. I thought that they were thundering forth a salute that they had reached the goal of their ardent desires; but I afterwards found that the Armory was on fire, and that the flames having reached the shells deposited there for our army, they were exploding. These explosions were kept up until a late hour this evening; I am rejoiced they are gone; they, at least, can never be turned against us. I found the family collected around the breakfast-table, and was glad to see Captain M's family with them. The captain has gone, and the ladies have left their home on “Union Hill” to stay here among friends, Colonel P. having kindly given them rooms. An hour or two after breakfast we all retired to our rooms exhausted. No one had slept; no one had sought repose or thought of their own comfort. The Federal soldiers were roaming about the streets; either whiskey or the excess of joy had given some of them the appearance of being beside themselves. We had hoped that very little whiskey would be found in the city, as, by order of the Mayor, casks were emptied yesterday evening in the streets, and it flowed like water through the gutters; but the rabble had managed to find it secreted in the burning shops, and bore it away in pitchers and buckets. It soon became evident that protection would be necessary for the residences, and at the request of Colonel P. I went to the Provost Marshal's office to ask for it. Mrs. P. was unfortunately in the country, and only ladies were allowed to apply for guards. Of course this was a very unpleasant duty, but I must undertake it. Mrs. D. agreed to accompany me, and we proceeded to the City Hall — the City Hall, which from my childhood I had regarded with respect and reverence, as the place where my father had for years held his courts, and in which our lawyers, whose names stand among the highest in the Temple of Fame, for fifty years expounded the Constitution and the laws, which must now be trodden under foot. We reached it. After passing through crowds of negro soldiers there, we found on the steps some of the elderly gentlemen of the city seeking admittance, which was denied them. I stopped to speak to Mr. –––, in whose commission house I was two days ago, and saw him surrounded by all the stores which usually make up the establishment of such a merchant; it was now a mass of blackened ruins. He had come to ask protection for his residence, but was not allowed to enter. We passed the sentinel, and an officer escorted us to the room in which we were to ask our country's foe to allow us to remain undisturbed in our own houses. Mrs. D. leant on me tremblingly; she shrank from the humiliating duty. For my own part, though my heart beat loudly and my blood boiled, I never felt more high-spirited or lofty than at that moment. A large table was surrounded by officials, writing it or talking to the ladies, who came on the same mission that brought us. I approached the officer who sat at the head of the table, and asked him politely if he was the Provost Marshal, “I am the Commandant, madam,” was the respectful reply. “Then to whom am I to apply for protection for our residence?” “You need none, madam; our troops are perfectly disciplined, and dare not enter your premises.” “I am sorry to be obliged to undeceive you, sir, but when I left home seven of your soldiers were in the yard of the residence opposite to us, and one has already been into our kitchen.” He looked surprised, and said, “Then, madam, you are entitled to a guard. Captain, write a protection for the residence on the corner of First and Franklin Streets, and give these ladies a guard.” This was quickly done, and as I turned to go out, I saw standing near me our old friend, Mrs. —. Oh! how my heart sank when I looked into her calm, sad face, and remembered that she and her venerable and highly esteemed husband must ask leave to remain in peace in their home of many years. The next person who attracted my attention was that sweet young girl, S. W. Having no mother, she of course must go and ask that her father's beautiful mansion may be allowed to stand uninjured. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she pressed my hand in passing. Other friends were there; we did not speak, we could not; we sadly looked at each other and passed on. Mrs. D. and myself came out, accompanied by our guard. The fire was progressing rapidly, and the crashing sound of falling timbers was distinctly heard. Dr. Read's church was blazing. Yankees, citizens, and negroes were attempting to arrest the flames. The War Department was falling in; burning papers were being wafted about the streets. The Commissary Department, with our desks and papers, was consumed already. Warwick & Barksdale's mill was sending its flames to the sky. Cary and Main Streets seemed doomed throughout; Bank Street was beginning to burn, and now it had reached Franklin. At any other moment it would have distracted me, but I had ceased to feel any thing. We brought our guard to Colonel P., who posted him; about three o'clock he came to tell me that the guard was drunk, and threatening to shoot the servants in the yard. Again I went to the City Hall to procure another. I approached the Commandant and told him why I came. He immediately ordered another guard, and a corporal to be sent for the arrest of the drunken man. The flames had decreased, but the business part of the city was in ruins. The second guard was soon posted, and the first carried off by the collar. Almost every house is guarded; and the streets are now (ten o'clock) perfectly quiet. The moon is shining brightly on our captivity. God guide and watch over us!

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 342-9

Captain Charles Fessenden Morse: April 14, 1863

Provost Marshal's Office,

Twelfth Army Corps,

April 14, 1863.

Our army is beginning to move; yesterday, the cavalry started with a small infantry support. We are under orders and shall move probably to-morrow or next day. All extra clothing of the soldiers has been turned in, and all available room in knapsacks and haversacks has been filled with rations. My idea is something of this kind: that we are going up the Rappahannock at least as far as where the bridge on the Culpepper road was burned; that we shall cross there, then move forward a little; then that our right will be swung round, when the rebels will be obliged to abandon their fortifications and fight us on a fair field. If we win a victory, it will be a glorious one; at all events, we are going to give the enemy a harder fight than they have ever had before. I have been busy to-day making arrangements for a move. I think that I shall be able when the battle comes, to volunteer my services as aide to General Slocum; I hope so. It would give me a good chance to see the fight from various parts of the field; I feel sure he will make this corps do more than it has done yet. I have permission to send back my three companies when the regiment goes into action, so the Second will be able to give a good account of itself.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 126-7

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 6, 1862

Gen. Winder getting wind of what was going on, had an interview, first with Mr. Benjamin, who instructed him what to say; and then bringing forward the Provost Marshal, they had a rather stormy interview with Mr. Randolph, who, as usual, yielded to their protestations against having two passport offices, while martial law existed.

And so Col. Bledsoe came in and told me to “shut up shop.” The Secretary had revoked his order.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 133

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 8, 1862

I learn that Col. Bledsoe has to grant passports to the army, as the pickets have been instructed to let no one pass upon the order of Gen. Winder or his Provost Marshal.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 133

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 9, 1862

It is now apparent that matters were miserably managed on the battle-field, until Gen. Lee assumed command in person. Most of the trophies of the victory, and thousands of arms, stores, etc. were pillaged by the promiscuous crowds of aliens and Jews who purchased passports thither from the Provost Marshal's detectives.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 133

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 4, 1862

Col. Bledsoe sent word to me to-day by my son that he wished to see me. When I met him he groaned as usual, and said the department would have to open another passport office, as the major-generals in the field refused to permit the relatives of the sick and wounded in the camps to pass with orders from Brig.-Gen. Winder or his Provost Marshal.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 133

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 28, 1862

Prisoners and deserters from the enemy say the Yankees get the Richmond papers, every day, almost as soon as we do. This is a great advantage they possess; and it demonstrates the fact that the Provost Marshal has interposed no effectual barriers between us and the enemy.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 128-9

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 21, 1862

There are skirmishes every day, and we can hear both the artillery and musketry from the hills on the outskirts of the city, whither some of us repair every afternoon.

But the Provost Marshal's administration is abominable. Mr. Garnett, M. C., told me that in an interview with the President, the latter informed him that he had just received a letter from Gen. Johnston, stating that the enemy not only knew everything going on within our lines, but seemed absolutely to know what we intended doing in the future, as if the most secret counsels of the cabinet were divulged.

Count Mercier, the French Minister residing at Washington, has been here on a mysterious errand. They said it referred to our recognition. He had prolonged interviews with Mr. Benjamin. I think it was concerning tobacco. There are $60,000,000 worth in Richmond, at French prices. For $1,000,000, Mr. Seward might afford to wink very hard; and, after distributing several other millions, there would be a grand total profit both to the owners and the French Emperor. I smile at their golden expectations, for I know they will not be realized. If one man can prevent it, the South shall never be betrayed for a crop of tobacco. This is a holy cause we are embarked in, worthy to die for.

The British Minister, Lord Lyons, has embarked for England, to report to his government that “the rebellion is on its last legs,” and must speedily succumb. He is no prophet, or the son of a prophet.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 127

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 13, 1862

This morning I learned that the consuls had carried the day, and were permitted to collect the tobacco alleged to be bought on foreign account in separate warehouses, and to place the flags of their respective nations over them. This was saving the property claimed by foreigners whose governments refused to recognize us (these consuls are accredited to the United States), and destroying that belonging to our own citizens. I told the Provost Marshal that the act of Congress included all tobacco and cotton, and he was required by law to see it all destroyed He, however, acknowledged only martial law, and was, he said, acting under the instructions of the Secretary of State. What has the Secretary of State to do with martial law? Is there really no Secretary of War?

Near the door of the Provost Marshal's office, guarded by bayoneted sentinels, there is a desk presided over by Sergeant Crow, who orders transportation on the cars to such soldiers as are permitted to rejoin their regiments. This Crow, a Marylander, keeps a little black-board hung up and notes with chalk all the regiments that go down the Peninsula. To day, I saw a man whom I suspected to be a Yankee spy, copy with his pencil the list of regiments; and when I demanded his purpose, he seemed confused. This is the kind of information Gen. McClellan can afford to pay for very liberally. I drew the Provost Marshal's attention to this matter, and he ordered a discontinuance of the practice.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 124

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 12, 1862

I suggested to the Provost Marshal several days ago that there was an act of Congress requiring the destruction of tobacco, whenever it might be in danger of falling into the hand's of the enemy. He ran to Gen. Winder, and he to some one else, and then a hundred or more negroes, and as many wagons, were “pressed” by the detectives. They are now gathering the weed from all quarters, and piling it in “pressed” warehouses, mixed with “combustibles,” ready for the conflagration.

And now the consuls from the different nations are claiming that all bought on foreign account ought to be spared the torch. Mr. Myers, the little old lawyer, has been employed to aid them. He told me to-day that none ought to be burnt, that the Yankees having already the tobacco of Missouri, Kentucky, and Maryland, if we burn ours it will redound to their benefit, as it will enhance the price of that in their hands. That is a Benjamite argument. He hastened away to see the Secretary of State, and returned, saying, in high glee (supposing I concurred with him, of course), Mr. B. agreed with him. I told him, very gravely, that it mattered not who agreed with him; so soon as the enemy came to Richmond all the tobacco would be burned, as the retiring army would attend to it; several high officers were so resolved. He looked astounded, and departed.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 123-4

Captain Charles Fessenden Morse, February 14, 1863

Camp Near Stafford C. H., Va.,

February 14, 1863.

I have been appointed Provost Marshal of the corps, and shift my quarters to-morrow to General Slocum's headquarters. I am to have my company and another one from my regiment, and a company of cavalry for my guard. The duties I don't imagine to be very heavy, except in the office. I am allowed a horse and a wall-tent to myself. I rather like the idea of a change for a little while at any rate; if we begin active movements again, I shall try and get back to the regiment. I like General Slocum very well, from what I have seen of him, and he has some very good men on his staff. I shall probably see a good deal of them.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 121

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 14, 1862

The Provost Marshal, Col. Porter, has had new passports printed, to which his own name is to be appended. I am requested to sign it for him, and to instruct the clerks generally.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 114

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 17, 1862

Col. Porter has resigned his provost marshalship, and is again succeeded by Capt. Godwin, a Virginian, and I like him very well, for he is truly Southern in his instincts.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 115

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 22, 1862

Capt. Godwin, the Provost Marshal, was swearing furiously this morning at the policemen about their iniquitous forgeries.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 115

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 8, 1862

Gen. Winder has appointed Capt. Godwin Provost Marshal.

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

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 9, 1862

Gen. Winder has appointed Col. Porter Provost Marshal, — Godwin not being high enough in rank, I suppose.

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