1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: May 28, 1862

Near Farmington, Miss., May 28, 1862

We moved up here this morning under the hottest sun and over the dustiest roads, and I then helped the major lay off the camp, and pitched our tents ourselves. Gracious, how hot it was! I worked and sweated and blessed General Pope for ordering us forward on such a day. I'll wager we are the only field and staff that pitch and strike our head quarter's tents without the aid of the men. But I can't bear the idea of making men who are our equals at home do our work here. Soldiering in the ranks spoils a man for acting officer “a-la-regular.” We're ordered to have our horses saddled by 3 a. m. to-morrow. There has been the liveliest kind of cannonading along the whole lines to-day. Our whole army advanced about a mile. I think that at almost any point on the line we can throw shot into their works. Distances vary from one and one-half miles to two and a quarter or two and one-half. Many of the generals think that to-morrow there will be a general fight. They talk a great deal more since the news correspondents have been sent off; and of course anything of that kind, that a brigadier says, goes the rounds of the whole camp in real telegraph style. Have heard of a number of killings to-day, and haven't heard a tithe of the whole. The enemy are beginning to dispute our further advance right strongly. Many think that Halleck has commenced a regular siege. He has left a line of splendid defences to-day, and if he forms new works on the position taken up to-day, we will know that we are in for a long fight, a-la-Yorktown. Two regiments of cavalry went out this morning to destroy the Ohio & Mobile R. R., 30 miles south of Corinth. I wish them luck. Many of the Rebel shot and shell struck within a half mile of the front of our camp to-day. It looks somewhat like the times at Madrid and Point Pleasant, but will probably be a little more interesting before we finally finish it.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 94-5

Diary of Private Charles Wright Wills: May 23, 1861

Lots of men come through here with their backs blue and bloody from beatings; and nine in ten of them got their marks in Memphis. A man from St. Louis was in camp a few days since with one-half of his head shaved, one-half of a heavy beard taken off, two teeth knocked out and his lips all cut with blows from a club. This was done in Memphis the day before I saw him. My health continues excellent. Never felt so well, and think that care is all that is necessary to preserve my health as it is. I can't think that this Illinois climate is mean enough to give a fellow the chills, after it has raised him as well as it has me.

I never enjoyed anything in the world as I do this life, and as for its spoiling me, you'll see if I don't come out a better man than when I went in.

We have commenced fortifying this point. One company is detailed every day to work on this. It is said that it will cost three million. As for enlisting for three years, I can't, or rather won't say now. Tis a sure thing that as long as this war continues I will not be satisfied at home, and if I would there will certainly be no business. There is no use trying to coax me now for I can't tell until my three month's are up. Then, if I feel as now, I shall certainly go in for the war. Our company gets compliments from all the newspaper correspondents.

The whole camp is aching to be ordered to Memphis. Bird's Point is not occupied. We had a company there for one day but withdrew them.

I commenced this about 12 last night in the hospital, but I had so much to do and there were so infernal many bugs that I concluded to postpone it. We do have the richest assortment of bugs here imaginable, from the size of a pin-head up to big black fellows as large as bats. I was sitting up with an old schoolmate from Bloomington, whose company have gone up to Big Muddy and left him to the tender care of our surgeons. The poor devil would die in a week but for the care he gets from a dozen of us here that used to go to school with him. There are about 50 men in our regiment's hospital, and save the few that go up to care for their friends unasked, the poor fellows have no attendance nights. I gave medicine to four beside my friend last night, two of whom are crazy with fever. One of the latter insisted on getting up all the time, and twice he got down stairs while I was attending the others. Not one of our company is there, thank heaven.

Yesterday our company with the whole 7th Regiment were at work on the fortifications. Wheeling dirt and mounting guns was the exercise. The guns we mounted are 36 pounders and weigh three and one-half tons each. Our regiment, except this company, are at the same work to-day. To-morrow the 9th works. General Prentiss paid us a very handsome compliment in saying that our company did more work than any two companies have yet done in the same time. You should see our hands. Mine are covered with blisters. You might as well be making up your mind to the fact that I am not coming home soon. There is but one thing in the way to prevent my going in for the war. That is the talk of cutting off the heads of all lieutenants over 25 years of age, and of all captains over 35. Now under that arrangement all three of our officers will lose their heads, and we know we cannot replace them with as good. This thing, though not certain yet, has created a great deal of excitement in camp, and if it goes into effect will smash our company completely. Our company is the best officered of any in camp. There are no two sides to that proposition.

You'll see that your Canton company will not regret the selection of officers they have made. The companies here with inexperienced officers have worlds of trouble, and five captains and one lieutenant, though good men at home, have resigned at the wish of their companies. Four of these companies tried to get our first lieutenant for captain, but he won't leave us. The thousand men who occupied Bird's Point the other day are most all Germans; many of them “Turners,” and a very well drilled regiment. They will get their cannons from St. Louis next week. None of the men expect an attack here, but we know that General Prentiss thinks it at least possible, and from his actions we think he expects it. A family were in camp yesterday who were driven away from a place only 12 miles from here in Missouri, and left a son there with a bullet through his brains. It happened yesterday morning. We have had our uniforms about a week. Gray satinet pants and roundabout, with a very handsome blue cloth cap. Nine brass buttons up the jacket front and grey flannel shirts. We are obliged to wash dirty clothes the day we change and to black our shoes every evening, and polish our buttons for dress parade. Our company is the only one that does this though, and they call us dandies. We have done more work and better drilling though, than any of them, so we don't mind it.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 14-6

Diary of Gideon Welles: Monday, May 4, 1863

Great uneasiness and uncertainty prevail in regard to army movements. I think the War Department is really poorly advised of operations. I could learn nothing from them yesterday or to-day. Such information as I have is picked up from correspondents and news-gatherers, and from naval officers who arrive from below.

I this P.M. met the President at the War Department. He said he had a feverish anxiety to get facts; was constantly up and down, for nothing reliable came from the front. There is an impression, which is very general, that our army has been successful, but that there has been great slaughter and that still fiercer and more terrible fights are impending.

I am not satisfied. If we have success, the tidings would come to us in volumes. We may not be beaten. Stoneman¹ with 13,000 cavalry and six days' supply has cut his way into the enemy's country, but we know not his fate, farther than we hear nothing from him or of him. If overwhelmed, we should know it from the Rebels. There are rumors that the Rebels again reoccupy the intrenchments on the heights in the rear of Fredericksburg, but the rumor is traceable to no reliable source.

_______________

¹ General George Stoneman was conducting an extensive cavalry operation intended to cut off Lee's army after its expected defeat. The unlooked-for discomfiture of the Federal forces placed Stoneman in considerable danger, but he succeeded in rejoining Hooker's main army on May 1st.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 291-2

Horace Greeley to James S. Pike, April 24, 1850

New York, April 24, 1850.

Dear Sir:

Will you write me some letters? You are writing such abominably bad ones for the Boston Courier that I fancy you are putting all your unreason into these, and can give me some of the pure juice. Try!

What I want is a daily letter (when there is any thing to say) on the doings of Congress, commenting on any thing spicy or interesting, and letting the readers make the right comments, rather than see that you are making them. Then I should like a dispatch in the evening, if any thing comes out, especially if any appointments shall have been acted on in executive. You know how to get them.

Well, are you ready to do me $10, $15, or $20 worth of work (you to value it) for a while, until it shall please you to come away or I can send some one on to Washington? If yes, please set about it and send me word. If not, condescend to say so. What I am after is news.

Yours,

Horace Greeley.

James S. Pike, Esq.

SOURCE: James Shepherd Pike, First Blows of the Civil War: The Ten Years of Preliminary Conflict in the United States from 1850 to 1860, p. 41

Major Charles Fessenden Morse: October 23, 1863

Wartrace, Tenn., October 23, 1863.

We had just got comfortably settled down at this place when, yesterday, orders came to General Slocum to concentrate his corps as soon as possible at Bridgeport. The movement has commenced, and we shall probably break camp to-morrow. The change in commanders has, of course, been an important topic with us for the last few days. A man takes a great responsibility on his shoulders now, when he accepts the command of an army. We are fortunate in having as good a man as Thomas for the successor of Rosecrans. There is a great chance to speculate on the coming campaign.

We have rumors that two corps are moving east on the Memphis and Charleston R. R. This force, with the Twelfth and Eleventh Corps and Burnside's army, if concentrated at Chattanooga, would undoubtedly be large enough to give battle to Bragg, with a more than even chance of success. But the risk of having communication cut off is very great if our corps is entirely removed from the railroad; it leaves about one hundred and twenty miles of road almost without a guard, and there is a succession of high trestle-work bridges all the way from Nashville to Bridgeport. At this present moment there is a band of some eight hundred guerrilla cavalry within twenty-five miles of this place, lying in wait for any opportunities they may have to destroy property. A strong force of cavalry could, within three days of our departure, stop this road from running for weeks. Still, I suppose that we have the chance of fighting Bragg before he can take advantage of this. Our worst enemy now is the weather. It has rained almost every day for the last ten days, and is very cold and disagreeable; the roads, of course, are fearfully muddy; they are quite equal to Virginia roads. I have great confidence in General Thomas. General Slocum knew him well before the war, and has the highest kind of opinion of him; he says he is as high-minded, noble, and kind-hearted a man as ever lived; that he has always opposed all kinds of humbug, and has never allowed any newspaper reporters about his corps, for which reason he hasn't enjoyed the brilliant reputation of a certain stripe of officers. He has really fine qualities, and I hope will be allowed to keep command.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 150-1

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: March 19, 1862

Camp Hayes, Raleigh, Virginia. — Before breakfast. A lovely day. Captain Haven returned last night after an extensive scout; burned seven empty houses — occupants gone bushwhacking. Burned none with women in them.

About noon a gentleman rode up and inquired for the colonel commanding. He turned out to be Clifton W. Tayleure, a local editor, formerly of Baltimore American, lately of Richmond Enquirer. Left Richmond a week ago to avoid the draft. All between eighteen and forty-five to be drafted to fill up the old regiments; all between sixteen and eighteen and forty-five and fifty-five to be enrolled as home guards to protect the homes and guard the slaves. He is a South Carolinian by birth; lived there until he was fifteen; came North; has been a “local” in various cities since; has a family in Baltimore; went to Richmond to look after property in August last; couldn't get away before; got off by passes procured by good luck, etc., etc.; is a Union man by preference, principle, etc., etc. This is his story. He is about thirty-three years of age, of prepossessing appearance, intelligent and agreeable. Gives us interesting accounts of things in the Capital of Secession. Says the trades-people are anxious for peace — ready for the restoration of the old Union. He seems to be truthful. I shall give him a pass to General Cox there to be dealt with as the general sees fit. — Will he visit them (Colonel Jones and General Cox) and report himself, or will he hurry by?

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 212-3

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: December 13, 1861

One of the papers has a short account of the application of Stone in its columns this morning. One of the reporters was present at the interview. The article bore pretty severely upon the assumption of power by the military commander of the department. Gen. Winder came in during the day, and denied having promised to procure a passport for Stone from Gen. Huger.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 99-100

Francis Lieber to Senator Charles Sumner, July 20, 1864

July 20,1864.

I received this moment “The Express” of July 16, which you sent me. It was to be expected that you would be sneered at. You recollect how “The Tribune” ridiculed the Academy of Science. How can it be otherwise? The writers of our journals are, as a general rule, young, irresponsible men, obliged to write every day something that will take, something smart. Has it never struck you, — what would have become of Christianity had it appeared in a world with full-blown journalism? Nay, imagine even the Council of Trent with reporters present! . . .

SOURCE: Thomas Sergeant Perry, Editor, The Life and Letters of Francis Lieber, p. 350

Major Wilder Dwight: August 15, 1861

department Shenandoah, Maryland Heights,

August 15, 1861.

I have, probably, just time, this morning, to report to you our progress. The cold and wet made our tents an absolute necessity to us, and so yesterday General Banks ordered them brought on to the hill. The bushes were swept away, and again the plain whitened with our tents; and, as if to celebrate the occasion, the dull sky broke, the sun came out, and at evening the band was playing in the moonlight, and we were in camp again. Only our tents were left by the wagons. The rest of the baggage prudently retired behind the hill before sunset.

Yesterday the accounts from down the river of skirmishings and of a movement of the enemy kept up a flight of lively rumors through the camps. Two of the pieces of our battery were taken down the hill, and there was a preparation for movement, if necessary. We heard nothing during the night, however, and this morning, as the mist rises, it does not disclose the rapid advance of cavalry or the frowning presence of angry batteries. It is odd, however, to notice how imaginative are the optics of some men in camp. They are always seeing the enemy. A wagonload of rails seems a squadron of cavalry. A large Monday's wash near the horizon is an encampment. A clump of firs with two cows and a flock of sheep are as many as a thousand infantry. Their heated fancy detects a heavy cannonading or the rattle of musketry in every sound. All these thick-coming fancies are dissipated by a correct ear, or resolved by a good glass. It is a part of our life.  . . . I am giving personal attention to every detail of feeding and clothing, and expect to get the system so organized that it must always work right. It does work so now, but, in the exigencies of service, there are hitches and rubs inevitable. To allow for friction in human affairs, and to overcome it, is a problem that, in all new enterprises, has to be learned out of practical, experimental teachings.

What an outrage it is that the newspaper reporters cannot be checked! Yesterday's New York Times contains a full statement of number and strength of the regiments with this Division. These papers go South freely. Think what it would be to us if we could have daily papers from the South with statements of their forces, positions, and movements. It would give certainty to what is now the chief element of uncertainty. But the South does not allow the printing of such information, and would not let it come North if it did. I do not see how we can succeed, if we do

not take the obvious precaution of military affairs.  . . . I must go and see about a survey of condemned bread, about an issue of new shoes, about drill, &c., &c.  . . . We are building a road over the mountain fit for the passage of artillery and wagons. That keeps two companies busy every day.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 73-4

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: August 14, 1861

Last night there was a crowd of men to see us and they were so markedly critical. I made a futile effort to record their sayings, but sleep and heat overcame me. To-day I can not remember a word. One of Mr. Mason's stories relates to our sources of trustworthy information. A man of very respectable appearance standing on the platform at the depot, announced, “I am just from the seat of war.” Out came pencil and paper from the newspaper men on the qui vive. “Is Fairfax Court House burned?” they asked. “Yes, burned yesterday.” “But I am just from there,” said another; “left it standing there all right an hour or so ago.” “Oh! But I must do them justice to say they burned only the tavern, for they did not want to tear up and burn anything else after the railroad.” “There is no railroad at Fairfax Court House,” objected the man just from Fairfax. “Oh! Indeed!” said the seat-of-war man, “I did not know that; is that so?” And he coolly seated himself and began talking of something else.

Our people are lashing themselves into a fury against the prisoners. Only the mob in any country would do that. But I am told to be quiet. Decency and propriety will not be forgotten, and the prisoners will be treated as prisoners of war ought to be in a civilized country.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 104-5

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 Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 11, 1861

We did hear cannon to-day. The woman who slandered Mrs. Davis's republican court, of which we are honorable members, by saying they — well, were not young; that they wore gaudy colors, and dressed badly — I took an inventory to-day as to her charms. She is darkly, deeply, beautifully freckled; she wears a wig which is kept in place by a tiara of mock jewels; she has the fattest of arms and wears black bead bracelets.

The one who is under a cloud, shadowed as a Yankee spy, has confirmed our worst suspicions. She exhibited unholy joy, as she reported seven hundred sick soldiers in the hospital at Culpeper, and that Beauregard had sent a flag of truce to Washington.

What a night we had! Maria had seen suspicious persons hovering about all day, and Mrs. Preston a ladder which could easily be placed so as to reach our rooms. Mary Hammy saw lights glancing about among the trees, and we all heard guns. So we sat up. Consequently, I am writing in bed to-day. A letter from my husband saying, in particular: “Our orders are to move on,'” the date, July 10th. “Here we are still and no more prospect of movement now than when I last wrote to you. It is true, however, that the enemy is advancing slowly in our front, and we are preparing to receive him. He comes in great force, being more than three times our number.”

The spy, so-called, gave us a parting shot: said Beauregard had arrested her brother in order that he might take a fine horse which the aforesaid brother was riding. Why? Beauregard, at a moment's notice, could have any horse in South Carolina, or Louisiana, for that matter. This man was arrested and sent to Richmond, and “will be acquitted as they always are,” said Brewster. "They send them first to Richmond to see and hear everything there; then they acquit them, and send them out of the country by way of Norfolk to see everything there. But, after all, what does it matter? They have no need for spies: our newspapers keep no secrets hid. The thoughts of our hearts are all revealed. Everything with us is open and aboveboard.

“At Bethel the Yankees fired too high. Every daily paper is jeering them about it yet. They’ll fire low enough next time, but no newspaper man will be there to get the benefit of their improved practise, alas!"

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 79-81

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: June 6, 1861

Davin! Have had a talk concerning him to-day with two opposite extremes of people.

Mrs. Chesnut, my mother-in-law, praises everybody, good and bad. “Judge not,” she says. She is a philosopher; she would not give herself the pain to find fault. The Judge abuses everybody, and he does it so well — short, sharp, and incisive are his sentences, and he revels in condemning the world en Hoc, as the French say. So nobody is the better for her good word, or the worse for his bad one.

In Camden I found myself in a flurry of women. “Traitors,” they cried. “Spies; they ought to be hanged; Davin is taken up, Dean and Davis are his accomplices.” “What has Davin done?” “He'll be hanged, never you mind.” “For what?” “They caught him walking on the trestle work in the swamp, after no good, you may be sure.” “They won't hang him for that!” “Hanging is too good for him!” “You wait till Colonel Chesnut comes.” “He is a lawyer,” I said, gravely. “Ladies, he will disappoint you. There will be no lynching if he goes to that meeting to-day. He will not move a step except by habeas corpus and trial by jury, and a quantity of bench and bar to speak long speeches.”

Mr. Chesnut did come, and gave a more definite account of poor Davin's precarious situation. They had intercepted treasonable letters of his at the Post Office. I believe it was not a very black treason after all. At any rate, Mr. Chesnut spoke for him with might and main at the meeting. It was composed (the meeting) of intelligent men with cool heads. And they banished Davin to Fort Sumter. The poor Music Master can't do much harm in the casemates there. He may thank his stars that Mr. Chesnut gave him a helping hand. In the red hot state our public mind now is in there will be a short shrift for spies. Judge Withers said that Mr. Chesnut never made a more telling speech in his life than he did to save this poor Frenchman for whom Judge Lynch was ready. I had never heard of Davin in my life until I heard he was to be hanged.

Judge Stephen A. Douglas, the “little giant,” is dead; one of those killed by the war, no doubt; trouble of mind.

Charleston people are thin-skinned. They shrink from Russell's touches. I find his criticisms mild. He has a light touch. I expected so much worse. Those Englishmen come, somebody says, with three P's — pen, paper, prejudices. I dread some of those after-dinner stories. As to that day in the harbor, he let us off easily. He says our men are so fine looking. Who denies it? Not one of us. Also that it is a silly impression which has gone abroad that men can not work in this climate. We live in the open air, and work like Trojans at all manly sports, riding hard, hunting, playing at being soldiers. These fine, manly specimens have been in the habit of leaving the coast when it became too hot there, and also of fighting a duel or two, if kept long sweltering under a Charleston sun. Handsome youths, whose size and muscle he admired so much as they prowled around the Mills House, would not relish hard work in the fields between May and December. Negroes stand a tropical or semitropical sun at noon-day better than white men. In fighting it is different. Men will not then mind sun, or rain, or wind. Major Emory,¹ when he was ordered West, placed his resignation in the hands of his Maryland brothers. After the Baltimore row the brothers sent it in, but Maryland declined to secede. Mrs. Emory, who at least is two-thirds of that copartnership, being old Franklin's granddaughter, and true to her blood, tried to get it back. The President refused point blank, though she went on her knees. That I do not believe. The Franklin race are stiff-necked and stiff-kneed; not much given to kneeling to God or man from all accounts.

If Major Emory comes to us won't he have a good time? Mrs. Davis adores Mrs. Emory. No wonder I fell in love with her myself. I heard of her before I saw her in this wise. Little Banks told me the story. She was dancing at a ball when some bad accident maker for the Evening News rushed up and informed her that Major Emory had been massacred by ten Indians somewhere out West. She coolly answered him that she had later intelligence; it was not so. Turning a deaf ear then, she went on dancing. Next night the same officious fool met her with this congratulation: “Oh, Mrs. Emory, it was all a hoax! The Major is alive.” She cried: “You are always running about with your bad news,” and turned her back on him; or, I think it was, “You delight in spiteful stories,” or, “You are a harbinger of evil.” Banks is a newspaper man and knows how to arrange an anecdote for effect.

_______________

¹ William H. Emory had served in Charleston harbor during the Nullification troubles of 1831-1836. In 1846 he went to California, afterward served in the Mexican War, and later assisted in running the boundary line between Mexico and the United States under the Gadsden Treaty of 1853. In 1854 he was in Kansas and in 1858 in Utah. After resigning his commission, as related by the author, he was reappointed a Lieutenant-Colonel in the United States Army and took an active part in the war on the side of the North.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 59-62

Major Rutherford B. Hayes to Sardis Birchard, September 4, 1861

Bulltown, September 3, [4], 1861.

Dear Uncle: — All your letters come safely; got one of the 26th yesterday. Mail facilities coming this way are perfect.

We are now under General Rosecrans in person going south toward Summersville, through Sutton, until we meet the enemy unless he leaves western Virginia. Unless overwhelmingly superior in numbers, we shall beat him, accidents always excepted. Our numbers are not, perhaps, as great as we would wish, but you must remember we are over one hundred miles from a railroad and bad roads (not very bad) to haul supplies. It is physically impossible to supply a very large army without a very long preparation. The wagon-trains would actually impede each other, if you were to attempt to crowd too fast, faster than we are now doing.

Take it easy, we shall clean them out in time, if the people at home will hold on and be persevering and patient.

We have had the severest experience soldiers are required to bear, except a defeat; viz, forced marches without shelter, food, or blankets over mountain bridle-paths, in the night and rain. Many fail. My little horse came out well and sound again, the best in the regiment. The doctor's gave out and was left. I gain strength and color; a little flesh perhaps. Never before so healthy and stout. You will hear first of our welfare in the [Cincinnati] Commercial. Their “special correspondent” wrote a letter in my tent this A. M. Good-bye.

Sincerely,

R. B. Hayes.

S. BlRCHARD.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 84-5

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Mead, July 17, 1864

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, July 17, 1864.

I had a visit to-day from General Grant, who was the first to tell me of the attack in the Times, based on my order expelling two correspondents. Grant expressed himself very much annoyed at the injustice done me, which he said was glaring, because my order distinctly states that it was by his direction these men were prohibited remaining with the army. He acknowledged there was an evident intention to hold me accountable for all that was condemned, and to praise him for all that was considered commendable.

As to these two correspondents, the facts are, that Grant sent me an order to send Swinton, of the Times, out of the lines of my army. Swinton was in Washington, and he was accordingly notified not to return. In regard to the other, Kent, of the Tribune, Hancock wrote me an official letter, enclosing the Tribune, and complaining of the misstatements of Kent. As Kent was a correspondent with General Butler's command, and not under my jurisdiction, I simply forwarded Hancock's letter to General Grant, asking that proper action should be taken in the case. He replied that, on reference to General Butler, it was found Kent had gone off, but that he, Grant, had prohibited his return. I therefore issued my order, stating these men were by General Grant's directions excluded from the army, and directing, if they returned, they should be arrested and turned over to the Provost Marshal General. They might just as well attack General Patrick, the Provost Marshal, because he is ordered to execute the order, as to attack me, who merely gave publicity to General Grant's order.

We are quite on the qui-vive to-night, from the reports of deserters, who say we are to be attacked to-morrow. Their story is that Johnston is so pressed by Sherman,¹ that if he is not reinforced, he will have to succumb, and that he cannot be reinforced until we are driven back. We consider this great news, and are most anxiously and impatiently awaiting the attack, feeling confident we can whip twice our numbers if they have the hardihood to attack us.

Franklin's escape has delighted every one, and we all hope his luck has now turned.

_______________

¹ Major-General W. T. Sherman advancing on Atlanta, Ga.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 213-4

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Mead, June 9, 1864 – 9 p.m.

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, 9 P. M., June 9, 1864.

I fully enter into all your feelings of annoyance at the manner in which I have been treated, but I do not see that I can do anything but bear patiently till it pleases God to let the truth be known and matters set right. I have noticed what you say about the Inquirer, but, as you observe, it is no worse than the other papers. Even Coppée, in the June number of his magazine, shows he, too, is demoralized, he having a flaming editorial notice of the wonderful genius of Grant. Now, to tell the truth, the latter has greatly disappointed me, and since this campaign I really begin to think I am something of a general.

I don't know whether you saw an article in the Inquirer of the 2d inst. on me, which the writer intended to be very complimentary.¹ At the close of it he refers to an eventful occasion when Grant saved the life of the nation, when I desired to destroy it. I could not make out what in the world this meant; but fortunately I found the author, one Edward Cropsey, and having sent for him, he explained that he had heard that on the night of the second day's battle of the Wilderness I had urged on General Grant the withdrawal of the army across the Rapidan, but Grant had firmly resisted all my intercessions, and thus the country was saved the disgrace of a retreat. I asked his authority; he said it was the talk of the camp. I told him it was a base and wicked lie, and that I would make an example of him, which should not only serve to deter others from committing like offenses, but would give publicity to his lie and the truth. I accordingly issued an order denouncing the falsehood, and ordering the offender to be paraded through the lines of the army with a placard bearing the inscription, "Libeler of the Press," and then that he should be put beyond the lines and not allowed to return. This sentence was duly executed, much to the delight of the whole army, for the race of newspaper correspondents is universally despised by the soldiers.

General Grant happened to be present when I was making out the order, and fully approved of it, although he said he knew the offender, and that his family was a respectable one in Illinois. After the man had been turned out and the affair had become public, then I learned to my surprise that this malicious falsehood had been circulated all over the country.

We find Lee's position again too strong for us, and will have to make another movement, the particulars of which I cannot disclose.

_______________

¹ For article mentioned, see Appendix P.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 202-3

James Russell Lowell to Sibyl Norton, September 28, 1861

Elmwood, the day before you wrote

your last letter; viz., Sep. 28, 1861.

My dear Sibyl, — Will you kindly tell me what has happened next week, so that I may be saved from this daily debauch of newspapers? How many “heroic Mulligans” who, “meurent et ne se rendent pas" to the reporters, with the privilege of living and surrendering to the enemy? How many “terrific conflicts” near Cheat Mountain (ominous name), with one wounded on our side, and enemy's loss supposed to be heavy? How many times we are to save Kentucky and lose our self-respect? How many times the Potomac is to be “hermetically sealed”? How often Mr. Seward is to put newspaper correspondents on the level of Secretaries of State? etc., etc. I ask all these questions because your so-welcome letter, which I received on Wednesday the 25th, was dated to-morrow the 29th. There is something very impressive to the imagination in a letter from the future, and to be even a day in advance of the age is a good deal — how much more five or six! How does it seem to come back? Is not everything weary and stale? Or do you live all the time in a balloon, thus seeing over the lines of Time, the old enemy of us all? Pray tell me how much foolisher I shall be this day twelve-month. Well, at any rate, you can't see far enough to find the day when your friendship shall not be one of my dearest possessions. . . .

Has it begun to be cold with you? I had a little Italian bluster of brushwood fire yesterday morning, but the times are too hard with me to allow of such an extravagance except on the brink of gelation. The horror of my tax-bill has so infected my imagination that I see myself and all my friends begging entrance to the P.H. (From delicacy I use initials.) I fancy all of you gathering fuel on the Newport beaches. I hope you will have lots of wrecks—Southern privateers, of course. Don't ever overload yourself. I can't bear to think of your looking like the poor women I met in the Pineta at Ravenna just at dusk, having the air of moving druidical altars or sudden toadstools.

Our trees are beginning to turn — the maples are all ablaze, and even in our ashes live their wonted fires. The Virginia creeper that I planted against the old horse-chestnut stump trickles down in blood as if its support were one of Dante's living wood. The haze has begun, and the lovely mornings when one blesses the sun. I confess our summer weather too often puts one in mind of Smithfield and the Book of Martyrs.

I have had an adventure. I have dined with a prince. After changing my mind twenty times, I at last sat down desperately and “had the honour to accept.” And I was glad of it — for H.I.H.’s resemblance to his uncle is something wonderful. I had always supposed the portraits of the elder Nap imperialized, but Jerome N. looks as if he had sat for that picture where the emperor lies reading on a sofa — you remember it. A trifle weaker about the mouth, suggesting loss of teeth; but it is not so, for his teeth are exquisite. He looks as you would fancy his uncle if he were Empereur de Ste. Hélène, roi d’Yvetôt. I sat next to Colonel Ragon, who led the forlorn hope at the taking of the Malakoff and was at the siege of Rome. He was a very pleasant fellow. (I don't feel quite sure of my English yet — J'ai tant parlé Français que je trouve beaucoup de difficulté à m'y déshabituer.) Pendant — I mean during — the dinner Ooendel Homes récitait des vers vraiment jolis. Il arrivait déjà au bout, quand M. Ragon, se tournant vers moi d'un air mêlé d'intelligence et d'interrogation, et à la même fois d'un Colomb qui fait la découverte d'un monde tout nouveau, s'écria, “C'est en vers, Monsieur, n'est ce pas?” St'anegdot charmang j'ai rahcontay ah Ooendell daypwee, avec days eclah de reer. (See Bolmar.) Mr. Everett made a speech où il y avait un soupçon de longueur. The prince replied most gracefully, as one

"Who saying nothing yet saith all."

He speaks French exquisitely — foi de professeur. Ho parlato anche Italiano col Colonello, chi è stato sei anni in Italia, and I believe I should have tried Hebrew with the secretary of legation, who looked like a Jew, if I had had the chance. After dinner the prince was brought up and presented to me!  Please remember that when we meet. The political part of our conversation of course I am not at liberty to repeat (! !), but he asked me whether I myself occupied of any work literary at present? to which I answered, no. Then he spoke of the factories at Lowell and Lawrence, and said how much the intelligence of the operatives had interested him, etc., etc. He said that Boston seemed to have much more movement intellectual than the rest of the country (to which I replied, nous le croyons, au moins); astonished himself at the freedom of opinion here, etc., at the absence of Puritanism and the like. I thought him very intelligent and thanked him for his bo deescoor o saynah Frongsay shure lays ahfair deetahlee. (See Bolmar again, which I took in my pocket.) . . .

Ever yours,

J. R. L.

SOURCE: Charles Eliot Norton, Editor, Letters of James Russell Lowell, Volume 1, p. 352-5

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Eliza Walter Smith, February 22, 1863

Headquarters Second Brigade, Second Division,

Fifteenth A. C, Young's Point, La.,

Opposite Vicksburg, Feb. 22, 1863.

My Dear Mother:

I send other papers, to show the condition and feeling of our army here towards General Sherman. The public have been systematically, basely, infamously imposed upon by the journals or their paid hirelings. God knows we have enough to endure from the apathy and indifference of friends at home to say nothing of traitors and open treason. You say “it may have been wise, but not well in General Sherman to muzzle the press.” You do not, cannot know all. General Sherman has had neither the power nor the will, to muzzle the press, but he has endeavored, and I am sorry to say, most unsuccessfully, to drive from among the camp followers of the army, the scoundrels, who by tergiversation, misrepresentations, and actual falsehood impose alike upon the credulity of the people and those who are honest among the conductors of the press. General Sherman has been actuated by the purest patriotism, and would not lend himself to the contemptible chicane and meanness by which certain individuals have been puffed up or written down. Therefore these villains have conspired and confederated together to slander him and villify his command.  One, . . . the correspondent of the New York . . . who wrote one of the most shamefully false articles of all that appeared (and all were false), describing the affair at Chickasas Bluffs, admitted to General Sherman, in my presence and in answer to my questions, that because General S. was known to be opposed to the presence of professional newspaper correspondents in the army, therefore he had determined to league with others of the fraternity who were here and revenge themselves by writing him down. That neither he nor they knew anything about him, but they had determined among themselves to renew the old slander of his insanity, because they supposed that would be most injurious to him. He also admitted that his letters were false, and based upon false information. This he did in writing, and was subsequently tried by court martial, his confreres, meanwhile, making their escape. His letter to the . . . was copied into the Vicksburg papers, and the enemy actually had the reading of it before we did, and became possessed of most valuable information to them. They had never regarded our falling back from the bluffs as a retreat, but supposed the withdrawal was stratagem on the part of Sherman, and cautioned their generals against the result. Immense plans were disarranged, and in consequence of their publications much public treasure has been wasted and many lives lost. We know that very many of these newspaper correspondents are paid spies. We know that many of them are in certain interests, some in that of cotton speculators, some in that of gold brokers, some paid by combinations of bankers, who all use the intelligence they give the people for the furtherance of specific views. Hence you perceive the mischievous tendency of the productions of these canaille against the public weal, as well as the government, but aside from this a far more terrible effect is produced in the demoralization of the army and the shaking of the confidence of the soldiers in their leaders. The withdrawal of the army from Chickasas was regarded as one of the most brilliant military achievements of the war, by the army. Officers were enthusiastic and it was regarded as equal to a victory in its effects upon the minds of the men. That the army was . . . in splendid condition for battle was evidenced by their conduct at Post Arkansas, immediately thereafter. Yet no sooner were the newspapers received than their spirits were dampened and their ardor cooled by the first intelligence they had received, that they had been defeated and that their favorite general was in disgrace (for they may say what they please in Ohio, General Sherman is the favorite of this army and to-day is the hero of the West in fact, whether he has the reputation or not). Very well! from whom does the information come to depress the feelings and outrage the sensibilities of the army? — not from the public at home, but through the public journals, who, to use the mildest terms, have been imposed upon by at most five or six individuals, each one of whom is infamous in character, and because of his infamy, is fit for his nefarious trade. They find themselves cramped, and with a fiendish malignity, gratify their private revenge at the expense of a nation. To pull down Sherman they would sacrifice his army, to sacrifice that, they would betray the commonwealth. . . . Some of the journalists have a character to sustain, these have none, and it is these that should be scourged like hounds from every corps, division, and regiment of our army, whenever or whatever its service. We endorse General Sherman fully in this matter, and I refer you to the enclosed document marked “A,” a copy of the original which was signed by all the officers of the “Old Division” with enthusiastic alacrity. The public are entitled to and should have early information of the movements of our armies, when such information may be transmitted without notice to the enemy, but all such information should be under supervision and censorship, for the most obvious reason, and no personal allusion to the character or behavior of any officer or soldier should be permitted; what that leads to the most obtuse can see. . . . For my record I point with what I believe is an honest pride to the official reports of my commanding generals, now part of the archives of the nation, and I would not exchange the autograph letters of General Sherman which I now enclose to you, for all or any of the newspaper fame that I have seen bestowed on any man.

If I succeed in securing my promotion through legislative channels, it is well; I think I deserve it. I think it not only due to me from my country, but that it will enable me to render her more effectual service. I do not ask it as a favor — I demand it as a right; and I am admonished that without the demand the right will not be accorded. Therefore, and properly, the action of my personal and political friends to bring me properly to the attention of the appointing power, to urge upon the Senate the propriety of remembering those who are placing their lives in peril to save the Republic, to remind the President of the propriety of selecting for his generals those who are most competent to lead his armies in the field. Whether I receive my promotion or not you and my friends will have been made to know that my immediate commanding generals think I deserve it, and that I have the confidence of my brother officers with whom I have served so long and so arduous a campaign.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 271-4

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Eliza Walter Smith, February 4, 1863

Headquarters Second Brigade, Second Division,

Fifteenth Army Corps,

“young's Point,” Before Vicksburg, Feb. 4, 1863.

My Dear Mother:

I could write much on these army matters and the course of events here if it were proper for me to do so; but, of course, my lips are sealed and my pen tabooed. You must rest assured that all the newspaper accounts you have seen of the late battles, and the movements of the Army of the Mississippi, are basely, utterly false. So much has been admitted by the correspondent of the New York . . .  in my presence to General Sherman. Courts martial will develop strange facts. All that you read in the newspapers will only serve to mislead you and confuse your mind. Great plans cannot be revealed. Few of the generals themselves know them. The newspaper men, dangerous to the army as spies giving information to the enemy, closely restricted and carefully watched, nevertheless manage to mingle undetected with the residue of the horde of base camp followers who are always at the heels of the army. Provoked at the restrictions placed upon them, by common agreement they hound down with infamous slander the generals from whom the orders against them emanate. Thus the scoundrel . . . the correspondent of the New York . . . has admitted by letter to General Sherman, as well as verbally in my presence, not only that his article was false, and malicious, and based upon false information received from parties interested in defaming General Sherman and his command, but that he renewed the old story of his insanity for the purpose of gratifying private revenge. . . .  Our country is in an awful condition ; we are verging rapidly upon anarchy. Government has almost ceased to exist save in name. An immense army will be demoralized and crumble by its internal opposing forces. A united people have only to fold their arms and calmly bide the event. God help us, and forgive that political party which sowed the wind, the fruits of which we now reap. This much and this alone I have to say. A soldier has naught to do with politics; the nearer he approaches a machine, an animal without volition, the more valuable he becomes to the service, and perhaps the greater part of our present difficulties grow out of the fact that our soldiers are too intelligent, for they will talk and they will write, and read the papers. Our Army of the Mississippi, and particularly our gallant “Old Division,” have the firmest faith and the most implicit reliance upon Sherman and Grant. Sherman is a splendid soldier, a most honorable gentleman, a pure patriot. Would to God we had more like him to battle for the right. I earnestly pray God he may not be sacrificed. This new infusion I know nothing about. McClernand has been sent off; he is out of place here. Brigadiers have come and are coming. I shall soon be superseded by some one of them, or General Stuart will be compelled to give way and I to him. No change of this kind will be cheerfully submitted to by my command. I have the most substantial evidence that I possess their affection and confidence. You speak about my resigning; it would be utterly impossible for me to resign, if I desired to do so, and an effort on my part to have my resignation accepted would ensure my lasting disgrace. An officer cannot resign in the face of the enemy. But I do not want to resign. With all its terrible hardships and privations, greater than tongue can tell, or pen describe, the life of a soldier is dear to me. I love its dangers and excitements. I am proud of, and delighted with the applause which even a temporary success meets. I am relieved of the miserable, wretched chicanery that surrounds the civilian. I rejoice in the free air. I take kindly to the nomadic life that a field service compels. The romance of chivalry is realized, the ideality of my youth and early manhood brought into actual being. The war horse and the sabre, the glitter of the soldier's trappings, the stirring strains of martial music, the flashing eye, the proud, high bearing, the bivouac fire, the canteen, the song and jest, the perilous scout, the wary picket, the night march, all familiar — this is my life. What I read of, till my cheeks tingled and my eyes suffused, I now do and my comrades do, and like Harry Percy, feel able to “pluck bright honor from the pale-faced moon.”

How long we shall stay here, God knows; it is a horrid place now, what it will be in the spring, none can tell; a long fiat swamp a foot above or below — I can't tell which —  the level of the Mississippi, which we are fighting to keep out. That portion not covered with a growth of brake and timber is completely so by cockle burr, that grows to an enormous height and presents an almost impenetrable mass of those little prickly burrs that get into the manes and horsetails, the same kind we have at home, but fearfully exaggerated in size and numbers. It is not quite the season, but after a very little while we shall be enlivened by the pleasant society of alligators and mocassin snakes, mud turtles and their coadjutors. Meanwhile we have every conceivable variety of lice and small-pox, measles and mumps, and other diseases incident to women and children. There is a species of moss you have often heard of and which abounds in this climate — a long hanging and beautiful moss when seen close at hand, but which waving in the forests presents a dreary funereal aspect. It is an article of commerce, and when properly prepared is a material for the stuffing of mattresses. Of course the men, when we camped near where it grew, eagerly sought it to make their beds, and were much disgusted to find it filled with lice. It has to be boiled and bottled to clean it from vermin. So, with the moss, and the transport boats filthy in the extreme, many of which had been hospital boats, the troops were pretty thoroughly infected with the plagues of Egypt, all but the frogs; and the first sun, I reckon, will make them tune their pipes.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 268-71

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith and Eliza Walter Smith, January 30, 1863

Headquarters Second Brigade, Second Division,

Fifteenth Army Corps,

“Young's Point,” Before Vicksburg, Jan. 30, 1863.

My Dear Wife And Mother:

I have your letters, mother's of the 15th and 18th and wife's of 22d inst. I can imagine your anxiety, and regret you could not sooner have heard of my safety and well being. But you were not born to be a soldier's wife and mother. You must keep up brave hearts; none of us can die but once; as well in the battle as in bed. I hope my life may be spared to comfort you for many years to come, and assure you that I will not unnecessarily, or otherwise than in the strict performance of my duty, expose a life dearer to others than it deserves, far dearer to them than to me, and you must write me cheeringly. Give me words of comfort and good cheer. We need comfort, for we are in a pretty tight place at the present writing; camped just in front of that famous ditch of Butler's that the papers made so much fuss about last year and in the full view of Vicksburg, about two miles, including the width of the river, from my tent. As I write, its white towers and steeples and window panes gleam in the light of the setting sun. It's the Gibraltar of America, and we shall have a good time taking it, I guess; but nil desperandum; we shall try. I believe I wrote you some account of the affairs at Chickasas Bayou, and at Post Arkansas. My troops behaved remarkably well in both engagements, though I lost rather more than my share. I stand well enough with the army here, but have not had the luck to do anything brilliant enough to make me brigadier, except so far as they can give it to me by brevet. I do most earnestly want the rank, and think I have honestly earned it, but suppose I must exercise patience and wait. My health is pretty good. Indeed I always feel well while the weather is cool and the past three or four days have been lovely. In the immediate personal superintendence of large works, I am in the saddle constantly.

My horses are peculiar, and I ride hard in battle and latterly with a large command have had to spread myself over the field. This was a good deal the case at Chickasas. Morgan L. went over almost the first pop, while I had run the gauntlet half a dozen times before him and was over the same ground where he fell for hours afterwards and always under fire. The newspaper reports are all false; there is scarcely any coloring of truth to them. I am always confounded with Morgan L. and his brother Giles A. I am utterly lost in the obscurity of the name. My only salvo is in the official reports; there alone can I be identified, and in an official report the bare detail alone is permitted. I have sent you two from my immediate commanding officer. General Sherman's I have not yet seen, but am told that I receive therein flattering mention. I have tried hard to win my spurs, but my heart has been made sick by the terrible injustice of the public prints. I have nobody in particular to blame; I don't know that I have a single enemy among the newspaper reporters; yet I am always ignored. You must take the published stories of the correspondents with very great allowance. They are never eye-witnesses of the scenes they attempt to describe. This I assure you is true, and a moment's reflection will give you the reason why. They have no business in battle; there is no position they could occupy. In the din and confusion and smoke and hurly burly, the assault, the charge, the cannonading, the rattling of musketry, the changing front of long lines of troops, the rapid advance, the quick retreat for change of position, the trampling of cavalry, and artillery and orderlies' horses — where would the newspaper reporter, with his pen and wit or pencil and paper be? No, they are far off to the rear, picking up items from stragglers, and runaways and the riff-raff of the camp and army; with just enough knowledge of the ground and the main facts to form a basis, they draw upon their imagination for fancy sketches, and paint their words in glaring colors. My regiment did go in where none dared to follow, and by my superior officer was withdrawn after the performance of the most heroic valor. It was the astonishment of the army, and no mention is made of it. The 8th Missouri was not under fire at any time during the fight at Chickasas. Its former colonel, the present major-general, was wounded by a sharpshooter before the engagement fairly began. See the reports and the absurdity. But I won't dilate upon what you cannot well understand, and in which your heart cannot possibly be.¹

________________

¹ Readers of Field Marshal, Lord Roberts's interesting book, will see that trouble with the correspondents of newspapers besets military commanders in these later days also. There is great similarity in the expression of his views in relation to this subject in his account of the Afghanistan campaign.

"No one could be more anxious than I was to have all details of the campaign made public. I considered it due to the people of Great Britain that the press Correspondents should have every opportunity for giving the fullest and most faithful accounts of what might happen while the army was in the field . . .  What to my mind was so reprehensible in this Correspondent's conduct was the publication in time of war, and consequent excitement and anxiety at home, of incorrect and sensational statements founded on information derived from irresponsible and uninformed sources, and the alteration of telegrams after they had been countersigned by the recognized authority, the result of which could only be to keep the public in a state of apprehension regarding the force in the field, and what is even more to be deprecated, to weaken the confidence of the troops in their commander." — Forty-One Years in India, vol. ii., p. 166.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 266-8