James Buchanan to Harriet R. Lane, January 16, 1862*

Wheatland, near Lancaster,

16 January [1862].

My Dear Harriet

I have received yours of the 11th Instant; & now enclose you a letter just received under the frank of Mr. Blair.

The invitation from Mr. and Mrs. Ward surprises me. Please to tell Judge Roosevelt that I have no loose copy of my speech in favor of the Independent Treasury, or it would afford me much pleasure to send it to him.

Do you know why our friend Schell is so much in Washington? Is he a witness or a party to any investigation there?

I have not & have not had any intention of writing a history of my administration. What I have done has been to collect & prepare for publication, should this become necessary, a reference to such public & other authentic documents as would fully justify me in all I did & all I did not do since the election of Mr. Lincoln in November last. For the present I have not the least idea of publishing it.

To tell me that a Paper like the Herald, which is read by every body, has no influence is vain. It has a most malign influence both at home & abroad. Its influence was evil in encouraging the secessionists to believe they might depart in peace, & then after its editor had been pursued by a mob, its influence in exasperating the people of England against us has been most unfortunate. It is considered there as a reflex of public opinion in this Country, & especially of that of the great city of New York.

Well, our friend Stanton has been appointed Secretary of War. I presume, without knowing, that this has been done by the influence of General M’Clellan. I have reason to believe they are very intimate. What are Mr. Stanton's qualifications for that, the greatest & most responsible office in the world, I cannot judge. I appointed him Attorney General when Judge Black was raised to the State Department, because his professional business & that of the Judge, especially in California cases, were so intimately connected that he could proceed in the Supreme Court without delay. He is a sound, clear-headed, persevering, & practical lawyer, & is quite eminent especially in Patent cases. He is not well versed in public, commercial, or constitutional law; because his professional duties as a County Lawyer never led him to make these his study. I believe he is a perfectly honest man & in that respect differs from his immediate predecessor. He never took much part in Cabinet Counsels, because his office did not require it. He was always on my side & flattered me ad nauseam. . . .¹

Remember me in great kindness to the Judge & Mrs. Roosevelt.

Yours affectionately

James Buchanan.

Miss Harriet R. Lane.

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* Buchanan Papers, private collection. The paragraph relating to Stanton is imperfectly printed in Curtis's Buchanan, II. 522.

¹ A paragraph relating to an entirely different and personal matter is here omitted.

SOURCE: John Bassett Moore, The Works of James Buchanan, Volume 11: 1860-1868, p. 246-7

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: February 25, 1862

They have taken at Nashville¹ more men than we had at Manassas; there was bad handling of troops, we poor women think, or this would not be. Mr. Venable added bitterly, “Giving up our soldiers to the enemy means giving up the cause. We can not replace them.” The up-country men were Union men generally, and the low-country seceders. The former growl; they never liked those aristocratic boroughs and parishes, they had themselves a good and prosperous country, a good constitution, and were satisfied. But they had to go — to leave all and fight for the others who brought on all the trouble, and who do not show too much disposition to fight for themselves.

That is the extreme up-country view. The extreme low-country says Jeff Davis is not enough out of the Union yet. His inaugural address reads as one of his speeches did four years ago in the United States Senate.

A letter in a morning paper accused Mr. Chesnut of staying too long in Charleston. The editor was asked for the writer's name. He gave it as Little Moses, the Governor's secretary. When Little Moses was spoken to, in a great trepidation he said that Mrs. Pickens wrote it, and got him to publish it; so it was dropped, for Little Moses is such an arrant liar no one can believe him. Besides, if that sort of thing amuses Mrs. Pickens, let her amuse herself.

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¹ Nashville was evacuated by the Confederates under Albert Sidney Johnston, in February, 1862.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 134

Major Rutherford B. Hayes to Birchard A. Hayes, October 29, 1861

Camp Tompkins, Virginia, October 29, 1861.

Tuesday morning after breakfast.

My Dear Boy: — If I am not interrupted I mean to write you a long birthday letter. You will be eight years old on the 4th of November — next Monday, and perhaps this letter will get to Cincinnati in time for your mother or grandmother to read it to you on that day.

If I were with you on your birthday I would tell you a great many stories about the war. Some of them would make you almost cry and some would make you laugh. I often think how Ruddy and Webby and you will gather around me to listen to my stories, and how often I shall have to tell them, and how they will grow bigger and bigger, as I get older and as the boys grow up, until if I should live to be an old man they will become really romantic and interesting. But it is always hard work for me to write, and I can't tell on paper such good stories as I could give you, if we were sitting down together by the fire.

I will tell you why we call our camp Camp Tompkins. It is named after a very wealthy gentleman named Colonel Tompkins, who owns the farm on which our tents are pitched. He was educated to be a soldier of the United States at West Point, where boys and young men are trained to be officers at the expense of the Government. He was a good student and when he grew up he was a good man. He married a young lady, who lived in Richmond and who owned a great many slaves and a great deal of land in Virginia. He stayed in the army as an officer a number of years, but getting tired of army life, he resigned his office several years ago, and came here and built an elegant house and cleared and improved several hundred acres of land. The site of his house is a lovely one. It is about a hundred yards from my tent on an elevation that commands a view of Gauley Bridge, two and a half miles distant — the place where New River and Gauley River unite to form the Kanawha River. Your mother can show you the spot on the map. There are high hills or mountains on both sides of both rivers, and before they unite they are very rapid and run roaring and dashing along in a very romantic way. When the camp is still at night, as I lie in bed, I can hear the noise like another Niagara Falls.

In this pleasant place Colonel Tompkins lived a happy life. He had a daughter and three sons. He had a teacher for his daughter and another for his boys. His house was furnished in good taste; he had books, pictures, boats, horses, guns, and dogs. His daughter was about sixteen, his oldest boy was fourteen, the next twelve, and the youngest about nine. They lived here in a most agreeable way until the Rebels in South Carolina attacked Major Anderson in Fort Sumter. Colonel Tompkins wished to stand by the Union, but his wife and many relatives in eastern Virginia were Secessionists. He owned a great deal of property which he feared the Rebels would take away from him if he did not become a Secessionist. While he was doubting what to do and hoping that he could live along without taking either side, Governor Wise with an army came here on his way to attack steamboats and towns on the Ohio River. Governor Wise urged Colonel Tompkins to join the Rebels; told him as he was an educated military man he would give him the command of a regiment in the Rebel army. Colonel Tompkins finally yielded and became a colonel in Wise's army. He made Wise agree that his regiment should be raised among his neighbors and that they should not be called on to leave their homes for any distant service, but remain as a sort of home guards. This was all very well for a while. Colonel Tompkins stayed at home and would drill his men once or twice a week. But when Governor Wise got down to the Ohio River and began to drive away Union men, and to threaten to attack Ohio, General Cox was sent with Ohio soldiers after Governor Wise.

Governor Wise was not a good general or did not have good soldiers, or perhaps they knew they were fighting in a bad cause. At any rate, the Rebel army was driven by General Cox from one place to another until they got back to Gauley Bridge near where Colonel Tompkins lived. He had to call out his regiment of home guards and join Wise. General Cox soon drove them away from Gauley Bridge and followed them up this road until he reached Colonel Tompkins' farm. The colonel then was forced to leave his home, and has never dared to come back to it since. Our soldiers have held the country all around his house.

His wife and children remained at home until since I came here. They were protected by our army and no injury done to them. But Mrs. Tompkins got very tired of living with soldiers all around, and her husband off in the Rebel army. Finally a week or two ago General Rosecrans told her she might go to eastern Virginia, and sent her in her carriage with an escort of ten dragoons and a flag of truce over to the Rebel army about thirty miles from here, and I suppose she is now with her husband.

I suppose you would like to know about a flag of truce. It is a white flag carried to let the enemy's army know that you are coming, not to fight, but to hold a peaceful meeting with them. One man rides ahead of the rest about fifty yards, carrying a white flag — any white handkerchief will do. When the pickets, sentinels, or scouts of the other army see it, they know what it means. They call out to the man who carries the flag of truce and he tells them what his party is coming for. The picket tells him to halt, while he sends back to his camp to know what to do. An officer and a party of men are sent to meet the party with the flag of truce, and they talk with each other and transact their business as if they were friends, and when they are done they return to their own armies. No good soldier ever shoots a man with a flag of truce. They are always very polite to each other when parties meet with such a flag.

Well, Mrs. Tompkins and our men travelled till they came to the enemy. The Rebels were very polite to our men. Our men stayed all night at a picket station in the woods along with a party of Rebels who came out to meet them. They talked to each other about the war, and were very friendly. Our men cooked their suppers as usual. One funny fellow said to a Rebel soldier, “Do you get any such good coffee as this over there?” The Rebel said, “Well, to tell the truth, the officers are the only ones who see much coffee, and it's mighty scarce with them.” Our man held up a big army cracker. “Do you have any like this?” and the Rebel said, “Well no, we do live pretty hard,” — and so they joked with each other a great deal.

Colonel Tompkins' boys and the servants and tutor are still in the house. The boys come over every day to bring the general milk and pies and so on. I expect we shall send them off one of these days and take the house for a hospital or something of the kind.

And so you see Colonel Tompkins didn't gain anything by joining the Rebels. If he had done what he thought was right, everybody would have respected him. Now the Rebels suspect him, and accuse him of treachery if anything occurs in his regiment which they don't like. Perhaps he would have lost property, perhaps he would have lost his life if he had stood by the Union, but he would have done right and all good people would have honored him.

And now, my son, as you are getting to be a large boy, I want you to resolve always to do what you know is right. No matter what you will lose by it, no matter what danger there is, always do right.

I hope you will go to school and study hard, and take exercise too, so as to grow and be strong, and if there is a war you can be a soldier and fight for your country as Washington did. Be kind to your brothers and to Grandmother, and above all to your mother. You don't know how your mother loves you, and you must show that you love her by always being a kind, truthful, brave boy; and I shall always be so proud of you.

Give my love to all the boys, and to Mother and Grandmother.

Affectionately, your father,

R. B. Hayes.

Birchaed A. Hayes,

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 128-32

Wilder Dwight: July 19, 1861

Headquarters Second Regiment M. V., Harper's Ferry,

Friday Morning, July 19, 1861.

A soldier's life is always gay! Here we are! Yesterday morning, just as I had finished my letter to you from Charlestown, from our camp, an order came from General Patterson for our brigade to prepare itself with two days' rations in haversacks, to march without baggage. This made us lively under the hot sun. The Colonel and I went and reported to General Patterson, whose head-quarters were in the house of Senator Hunter, the traitor, who had fled to Richmond. There we saw the General and Major Porter. It was evident that no vigorous move was to be attempted, and that this column awaited the news from Manassas. We returned to camp. I had just got to sleep, to make up for the fatigues of the day before (our march from Bunker Hill to Charlestown, Colonel Abercrombie says, was as hard a one as he ever knew), when the Colonel came to my tent and said, “No sleep for you; I've got orders.” A new order had come, directing our regiment to get ready for detached service. No indication had come of our destination, but we were to report to General Patterson as soon as ready. At three, we got under way with all our train. We were sent to Harper's Ferry. After a march of three hours we reached Harper's Ferry. The people received us with perfect enthusiasm, cheering and shouting after our flag. We are sent here to hold Harper's Ferry. Our headquarters are in the house of the Superintendent of the Arsenal. We succeed in its occupation to Johnston, the rebel. There are a good many of the secession horsemen home-guard, who are a terror to the country, and whom we are to quell. We shall establish our pickets in various directions, and hold the place, unless, indeed, we get orders to go elsewhere, which we are prepared to expect at any time. So, after all our expectation, there is no battle yet. The rumor is that Johnston is withdrawing from Winchester, and does not mean to fight. We know nothing here except by rumor. The country here is magnificent; the scenery glorious. Our camp is on the high ground, and faces the gorge through which the Potomac flows. The service on which our regiment is detached, though not a dangerous, is a very responsible and honorable one. The climate here is delightful, and I hope that all our men and officers will entirely recover from the fatigues of their sudden and recent duty. It is an odd life, and full of variety. Just now we seem to be about to see a little comfort. Our post here is due to the reputation the regiment has already acquired for discipline and promptness. It stirs one's blood to see the reign of terror under which these people have been living. Men come in and claim protection. Wives come and ask that their husbands may be assured of safety in returning to their homes. The most villanous system of oppression has been practised here in Virginia. The house in which we are now quartered is a fine house, and has a view which you would like, I think.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 52-4

John Lothrop Motley to Anna Lothrop Motley, March 15, 1861

31 Hertford Street,

March 15, 1861.

My Dearest Mother:  . . . It is not for want of affection and interest, not from indolence, but I can hardly tell you how difficult it is to me to write letters. I pass as much of my time daily as I can at the State Paper Office, reading hard in the old MSS. there for my future volumes; and as the hours are limited there to from ten till four, I am not really master of my own time.

I am delighted to find that the success of the “United Netherlands” gives you and my father so much pleasure. It is by far the pleasantest reward for the hard work I have gone through to think that the result has given you both so much satisfaction. Not that I grudge the work, for, to say the truth, I could not exist without hard labor, and if I were compelled to be idle for the rest of my days, I should esteem it the severest affliction possible.

My deepest regret is that my work should be for the present on the wrong side of the Atlantic. Before leaving the subject of the new volumes, I should like to say that I regret that no one has sent me any of the numerous reviews and notices in the American papers and magazines to which you allude. I received a number of the New York “Times” from the governor, and also the “Courier,” containing notices. The latter, which was beautifully and sympathetically written, I ascribed to Hillard's pen, which I do not think I can mistake. If this be so, I hope you will convey my best thanks to him.

These are the only two which have been sent to me, and it is almost an impossibility for me to procure American newspapers here. Of course both Mary and Lily, as well as myself, would be pleased to see such notices, and it seems so easy to have a newspaper directed to 31 Hertford Street, with a three-cent stamp. Fortunately, I recently subscribed to the “Atlantic Monthly,'” and so received the March number, in which there is a most admirably written notice, although more complimentary than I deserve. It is with great difficulty that I can pick up anything of the sort, and I fear now that as the time passes it will be difficult for me to receive them from America.

The Harpers have not written to me, but I received a line from Tom showing that the book was selling very well considering the times. As to politics I shall not say a word, except that at this moment we are in profound ignorance as to what will be the policy of the new administration, how the inauguration business went off, and what was the nature of Mr. Lincoln's address, and how it was received, all which you at home at this moment have known for eleven days. I own that I can hardly see any medium between a distinct recognition of the Southern Confederacy as an independent foreign power, and a vigorous war to maintain the United States government throughout the whole country. But a war without an army means merely a general civil war, for the great conspiracy to establish the Southern Republic, concocted for twenty years, and brought to maturity by Mr. Buchanan's cabinet ministers, has, by that wretched creature's connivance and vacillation, obtained such consistency in these fatal three months of interregnum as to make it formidable. The sympathy of foreign powers, and particularly of England, on which the seceders so confidently relied to help them on in their plot, has not been extended to them. I know on the very highest authority and from repeated conversations that the English government looks with deepest regret on the dismemberment of the great American Republic. There has been no negotiation whatever up to this time of any kind, secret or open, with the secessionists. This I was assured of three or four days ago.  . . . At the same time, I am obliged to say that there has been a change, a very great change, in English sympathy since the passing of the Morrill Tariff Bill. That measure has done more than any commissioner from the Southern Republic could do to alienate the feelings of the English public toward the United States, and they are much more likely to recognize the Southern Confederacy at an early day than they otherwise would have done. If the tariff people had been acting in league with the secessionists to produce a strong demonstration in Europe in favor of the dissolution of the Union, they could not have managed better.

I hear that Lewis Stackpole is one of the most rising young lawyers of the day, that he is very popular everywhere, thought to have great talents for his profession, great industry, and that he is sure to succeed. You may well suppose with how much delight we hear such accounts of him.

My days are always spent in hard work, and as I never work at night, going out to dinners and parties is an agreeable and useful relaxation, and as I have the privilege of meeting often many of the most eminent people of our times, I should be very stupid if I did not avail myself of it; and I am glad that Lily has so good an opportunity of seeing much of the most refined and agreeable society in the world.

The only very distinguished literary person that I have seen of late for the first time is Dickens. I met him last week at a dinner at John Forster's. I had never even seen him before, for he never goes now into fashionable company. He looks about the age of Longfellow. His hair is not much grizzled and is thick, although the crown of his head is getting bald. His features are good, the nose rather high, the eyes largish, grayish, and very expressive. He wears a mustache and beard, and dresses at dinner in exactly the same uniform which every man in London or the civilized world is bound to wear, as much as the inmates of a penitentiary are restricted to theirs. I mention this because I had heard that he was odd and extravagant in his costume. I liked him exceedingly. We sat next each other at table, and I found him genial, sympathetic, agreeable, unaffected, with plenty of light, easy talk and touch-and-go fun without any effort or humbug of any kind. He spoke with great interest of many of his Boston friends, particularly of Longfellow, Wendell Holmes, Felton, Sumner, and Tom Appleton. I have got to the end of my paper, my dearest mother, and so, with love to the governor and A–––, and all the family great and small, I remain

Most affectionately your son,

J. L. M.

P. S. I forgot to say that another of Forster's guests was Wilkie Collins (the "Woman in White's" author). He is a little man, with black hair, a large white forehead, large spectacles, and small features. He is very unaffected, vivacious, and agreeable.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 117-21

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: February 21, 1862

Continued our journey and reached Kansas City a little after noon. Arrested two men pretending to be secessionists — drunk. Encamped out on snow and ice a little distance from town. Major heard of a gang of jay-hawkers and secessionists at Independence under Parker and Quantrell. He detailed 150 men to go after them under Lieutenant Nettleton. Brownell and I got leave to go too. Was up nearly all night issuing cartridges and preparing to go.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, 7

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 9, 1861

The Examiner still fires shot and shell at Gov. Letcher and the dominant majority in the Convention, on account of recent appointments. It is furious over the selection of Mr. Baldwin, recently a leading Union man, for inspector-general; and seems to apprehend bad results from thrusting Union men forward in the coming struggle. The Enquirer is moderate, and kind to Gov. Letcher, whose nomination and subsequent course were so long the theme of bitter denunciation. It is politic. The Whig now goes into the secession movement with all its might. Mr. Mosely has resumed the helm; and he was, I believe, a secessionist many years ago. The Dispatch, not long since neutral and conservative, throws all its powers, with its large circulation, into the cause. So we have perfect unanimity in the press. Per contra, the New York Herald has turned about and leap-frogged over the head of the Tribune into the front ranks of the Republicans. No doubt, when we win the day, the Herald will leap back again.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 33

James Louis Petigru to Mrs. Jane Petigru North, November 13, 1860

Charleston, 13 November, 1860.

My dear Jane:

You see how saving I am getting to be, as I will not waste a sheet of paper because it is scratched. There is certainly reason for it, and we have fallen on evil days. It is sorrowful to see things that impair our respect for our countrymen, and nothing can be more efficient to produce that feeling than the scenes that are passing. It is barely possible that Georgia may recoil from the [action] that the Secessionists are driving to. The South Carolina men show by their precipitancy that they are afraid to trust the second thought or even their own people, and if the Georgians take time to reflect they will probably come to the conclusion that there is no necessity for action. But that is very uncertain.

* * * Last night the West Point Mill was burnt; the Governor had $5,000 in it. I was commiserating him and Joe under the load of debt that they are caught in this revolutionary day, when this new addition to the Governor's troubles is upon him. * * * Adieu.

Your Brother

SOURCE: James Petigru Carson, Life, Letters and Speeches of James Louis Petigru: The Union Man of South Carolina, p. 361-2

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, May 22, 1864

Headquarters Army Of Potomac

Sunday evening, May 22, 1864¹

I don't know when I have felt so peaceful — everything goes by contrast. We are camped, this lovely evening, in a great clover field, close to a large, old-fashioned house, built of bricks brought from England in ante-revolutionary times. The band is playing “Ever of Thee I'm Fondly Dreaming”  — so true and appropriate — and I have just returned from a long talk with two ultra-Secessionist ladies who live in the house. Don't be horrified! You would pity them to see them. One, an old lady, lost her only son at Antietam; the other, a comparatively young person, is plainly soon to augment the race of Rebels. Poor creature! Our cavalry raced through here yesterday and scared her almost to death. Her eyes were red with crying, and it was long before she fully appreciated the fact that General Meade would not order her to instant death. To-night she has two sentries over her property and is lost in surprise. Have I not thence obtained the following supplies: five eggs, a pitcher of milk, two loaves of corn bread, and a basket of lettuce — all of which I duly paid for. I feel well to-night on other accounts. If reports from the front speak true, we have made Lee let go his hold and fall back some miles. If true, it is a point gained and a respite from fighting. Hancock had got away down by Milford. Warren had crossed at Guinea Bridge and was marching to strike the telegraph road, on which the 6th Corps was already moving in his rear. The 9th Corps would cross at Guinea Bridge, last, and follow nearly after the 2d Corps.

We started ourselves not before noon, and crossed the shaky little bridge over the Po-Ny (as I suppose it should be called), and so we kept on towards Madison's Ordinary, crossing, a little before, the Ta, a nice, large, clear brook. An “Ordinary” in Virginia seems to be what we should call a fancy variety store, back in the country. Madison's is a wooden building, just at cross-roads, and was all shut, barred, and deserted; and, strange to say, had not been broken open. On the grass were strewn a quantity of old orders, which people had sent by their negroes, to get — well, to get every conceivable thing. I saved one or two, as curiosities, wherein people ask for quarts of molasses, hymn-books, blue cotton, and Jaynes's pills! The 5th Corps was passing along, as we stood there. After a while we went across the country, by a wood road, to the church you will see south of Mrs. Tyler's. Close to Madison's Ordinary was one of those breastworks by which this country is now intersected. A revival of the Roman castrum, with which the troops of both sides protect their exposed points every night. This particular one was made by the heavy artillery, whose greenness I have already spoken of. When they put it up the enemy threw some shells. Whereupon an officer rode back in all haste to General Hancock, and said: “General, our breastwork is only bullet-proof and the Rebels are shelling us!” “Killed anybody?” asked the calm commander. “Not yet, sir,” quoth the officer. “Well, you can tell them to take it comfortably. The Rebels often throw shells, and I am sure I cannot prevent them.” We passed, on the wood road, some of the finest oak woods I have seen; nothing could be finer than the foliage, for the size, fairness, and rich, polished green of the leaves. The soil, notwithstanding, is extremely sandy and peculiarly unfavorable to a good sod. At the church (do I call it Salem? I am too lazy to hunt after my map; no, it is New Bethel), the 9th Corps was marching past, and Burnside was sitting, like a comfortable abbot, in one of the pews, surrounded by his buckish Staff whose appearance is the reverse of clerical. Nothing can be queerer (rather touching, somehow or other) than to see half a dozen men, of unmistakable New York bon ton, arrayed in soldier clothes, midst this desolated country. I am glad to see that such men have the energy to be here. They are brave and willing, though, like your hub, their military education has been rather neglected.

And this leads me to remark that it is a crying mistake to think, as many do, that an aide is a sort of mounted messenger — an orderly in shoulder-straps. An aide should be a first-rate military man; and, at least, a man of more than average intelligence and education. It is very difficult, particularly in this kind of country, to deliver an order verbally, in a proper and intelligent way; then you must be able to report positions and relative directions, also roads, etc.; and in these matters you at once see how deficient some men are, and how others have a natural turn for them. To be a good officer requires a good man. Not one man in ten thousand is fit to command a brigade; he should be one who would be marked anywhere as a person (in that respect) of superior talent. Of good corps commanders I do not suppose there are ten in this country, after our three-years' war. Of army commanders, two or three. When we had seen enough of the 9th Corps and had found out that Hancock had mistaken Birney's line of battle (down by Milford) for that of the enemy, — whereat there was a laugh on the chivalric H., — we departed for the Tyler house. In one of Burnside's regiments are a lot of Indian sharpshooters, some full, some half-breeds. They looked as if they would like to be out of the scrape, and I don't blame them. . . .

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¹ “Gen. Meade said to me at breakfast: ‘I am afraid the rebellion cannot be crushed this summer!’” —Lyman's Journal.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 118-21

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 15, 1861 - 2nd Entry

To-day the secession fires assumed a whiter heat. In the Convention the Union men no longer utter denunciations against the disunionists. They merely resort to pretexts and quibbles to stave off the inevitable ordinance. They had sent a deputation to Washington to make a final appeal to Seward and Lincoln to vouchsafe them such guarantees as would enable them to keep Virginia to her moorings. But in vain. They could not obtain even a promise of concession. And now the Union members as they walk the streets, and even Gov. Letcher himself, hear the indignant mutterings of the impassioned storm which threatens every hour to sweep them from existence. Business is generally suspended, and men run together in great crowds to listen to the news from the North, where it is said many outrages are committed on Southern men and those who sympathize with them. Many arrests are made, and the victims thrown into Fort Lafayette. These crowds are addressed by the most inflamed members of the Convention, and never did I hear more hearty responses from the people.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p.19-20

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: May 25, 1861

Fairfax C. H. — The day of suspense is at an end. Alexandria and its environs, including, I greatly fear, our home, are in the hands of the enemy. Yesterday morning, at an early hour, as I was in my pantry, putting up refreshments for the barracks preparatory to a ride to Alexandria, the door was suddenly thrown open by a servant, looking wild with excitement, exclaiming, “Oh, madam, do you know?” “Know what, Henry?” “Alexandria is filled with Yankees.” “Are you sure, Henry?” said I, trembling in every limb. “Sure, madam! I saw them myself. Before I got up I heard soldiers rushing by the door; went out, and saw our men going to the cars.” “Did they get off?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer. “Oh, yes, the cars went off full of them, and some marched out; and then I went to King Street, and saw such crowds of Yankees coming in! They came down the turnpike, and some came down the river; and presently I heard such noise and confusion, and they said they were fighting, so I came home as fast as I could.” I lost no time in seeking Mr. ____, who hurried out to hear the truth of the story.  He soon met Dr. ____, who was bearing off one of the editors in his buggy. He more than confirmed Henry's report, and gave an account of the tragedy at the Marshall House. Poor Jackson (the proprietor) had always said that the Confederate flag which floated from the top of his house should never be taken down but over his dead body. It was known that he was a devoted patriot, but his friends had amused themselves at this rash speech. He was suddenly aroused by the noise of men rushing by his room-door, ran to the window, and seeing at once what was going on, he seized his gun, his wife trying in vain to stop him; as he reached the passage he saw Colonel Ellsworth coming from the third story, waving the flag. As he passed Jackson he said, “I have a trophy.” Jackson immediately raised his gun, and in an instant Ellsworth fell dead. One of the party immediately killed poor Jackson. The Federals then proceeded down the street, taking possession of public houses, etc. I am mortified to write that a party of our cavalry, thirty-five in number, was captured. It can scarcely be accounted for. It is said that the Federals notified the authorities in Alexandria that they would enter the city at eight, and the captain was so credulous as to believe them. Poor fellow, he is now a prisoner, but it will be a lesson to him and to our troops generally. Jackson leaves a wife and children. I know the country will take care of them. He is the first martyr. I shudder to think how many more there may be.

The question with us was, what was next to be done?  Mr. ____ had voted for secession, and there were Union people enough around us to communicate every thing of the sort to the Federals; the few neighbours who were left were preparing to be off, and we thought it most prudent to come off too. Pickets were already thrown out beyond Shuter's Hill, and they were threatening to arrest all secessionists. With a heavy heart I packed trunks and boxes, as many as our little carriage would hold; had packing boxes fixed in my room for the purpose of bringing off valuables of various sorts, when I go down on Monday; locked up every thing; gave the keys to the cook, enjoining upon the servants to take care of the cows, “Old Rock,” the garden, the flowers, and last, but not least, J____’s splendid Newfoundland. Poor dog, as we got into the carriage how I did long to take him! When we took leave of the servants they looked sorrowful, and we felt so. I promised them to return to-day, but Mr. ____ was so sick this morning that I could not leave him, and have deferred it until day after to-morrow. Mr. ____ said, as he looked out upon the green lawn just before we set off, that he thought he had never seen the place so attractive; and as we drove off the bright flowers we had planted seemed in full glory; every flower-bed seemed to glow with the “Giant of Battles” and other brilliant roses. In bitterness of heart I exclaimed, “Why must we leave thee, Paradise!” and for the first time my tears streamed. As we drove by “The Seminary,” the few students who remained came out to say “Good-by.” One of them had just returned from Alexandria, where he had seen the bodies of Ellsworth and Jackson, and another, of which we had heard through one of our servants who went to town in the morning. When the Federal troops arrived, a man being ordered to take down the secession flag from above the market-house, and run up the “stars and stripes,” got nearly to the flag, missed his foothold, fell, and broke his neck. This remarkable circumstance was told me by two persons who saw the body. Is it ominous? I trust and pray that it may be.

When we got to Bailey's Cross Roads, Mr. ____ said to me that we were obliged to leave our home, and as far as we have a right to any other, it makes not the slightest difference which road we take — we might as well drive to the right hand as to the left — nothing remains to us but the barren, beaten track. It was a sorrowful thought; but we have kind relations and friends whose doors are open to us, and we hope to get home again before very long. The South did not bring on the war, and I believe that God will provide for the homeless.

About sunset we drove up to the door of this, the house of our relative, the Rev. Mr. B., and were received with the warmest welcome. As we drove through the village we saw the carriage of Commodore F. standing at the hotel door, and were soon followed by the C.'s of our neighbourhood and many others. They told us that the Union men of the town were pointing out the houses of the Secessionists, and that some of them had already been taken by Federal officers. When I think of all this my heart quails within me. Our future is so dark and shadowy, so much may, nay must, happen before we again become quiet, and get back, that I feel sad and dreary. I have no fear for the country — that must and will succeed; but our dear ones! — the representatives of every State, almost every family, from the Potomac to the Gulf of Mexico — how must they suffer, and how must we at home suffer in their behalf!

This little village has two or three companies quartered in it. It seems thoroughly aroused from the quiescent state which it was wont to indulge. Drums are beating, colours flying, and ever and anon we are startled by the sound of a gun. At Fairfax Station there are a good many troops, a South Carolina regiment at Centreville, and quite an army is collecting at Manassas Station. We shall be greatly outnumbered, I know, but numbers cannot make up for the zeal and patriotism of our Southern men fighting for home and liberty.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 17-21

Theodore Winthop to L., May 31st, 1861 – 10 p.m.

Fortress Monroe, May 31st, 1861.

Dear L., — Thanks for your kind letter and the hamper. I saw Gen. Butler at Washington. He invited me here when the Seventh should return, and here am I, acting as his Military Sec'y pro tem. He will find me something to do. He is a character, and really was the man who saved Washington by devising the march to Annapolis — a place which nobody had ever heard of.

By Liberty! but it is worth something to be here at this moment, in the center of the center! Here we scheme the schemes! Here we take the secession flags, the arms, the prisoners! Here we liberate the slaves — virtually. I write at ten P. M. We have just had a long examination of a pompous Virginian, secessionist and slave owner, who came under safe conduct to demand back his twenty niggers who had run over to us. Half of his slaves he had smuggled over to Alabama for sale a week ago. But he was not lively enough with the second score. He said, with a curious mock pathos — “One boy, sir, staid behind, sir, and I said to him, John, they're all gone, John, and you can go if you like; I can't hold you. No, master, says John, I'll stay by you, master, till I die! But, sir, in the morning John was gone, and he'd taken my best horse with him! Now, Colonel,” said the old chap, half pleading and half demanding, “I'm an invalid, and you have got two of my boys, young boys, sir, not over twelve — no use to you except perhaps to black a gentleman's boots. I would like them very much, sir, if you would spare them. In fact, Colonel, sir, I ought to have my property back.”

It would have done Gay's heart good to have heard what Gen. Butler said, when this customer was dismissed. Then we had an earnest, simple fellow, black as the ace of spades, with whites of eyes like holes in his head, and sunshine seen through; who had run away from the batteries at Yorktown, and came to tell what they were doing there. It is prime, and growing primer all the time. I wish I could write more, but I am at hard work most of the day. In the afternoon I ride about, and the sentries present arms, though I am still in my uniform of a private. I left Billy in Washington. It broke my heart to leave the boy, but I shall work with him again. Dearest love to all in the house and region,

Yours,

T. W.

SOURCE: Laura Winthrop Johnson, Editor, The Life and Poems of Theodore Winthrop, p. 288-90

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, July 24, 1861

July 24, Wednesday.

A moment after I stopped writing, I was busy ordering tents struck, wagons packed, and everything got ready for a start. We were almost prepared to move, when General Patterson got a dispatch from General Scott ordering him to stay where he was; so unpack wagons, pitch tents, was the order. We were generally glad of it, as it would have looked as if it were a regular runaway, and we haven't got over feeling sore at not getting to Winchester and giving General Johnston a try.

My story left off at Charlestown, where we were last Thursday. About noon, our regiment received orders to march at half-past three P. M., on detached service. Everything was moving at the appointed time. We marched out in good spirits, but with empty stomachs. After traveling about a mile, we were informed that we were going to Harper's Ferry to hold the place. I was assigned the honorable command of the rear guard. We had a very pleasant march of eight miles through some of the finest scenery I ever saw. We met with quite a reception in the town; men, women and children cheering us, waving flags, and evidently overjoyed to see United States troops again. We camped on a high bluff just over the Potomac, and proceeded to put the town in a state of martial law, taking several leading secessionists prisoners. Here we got plenty to eat; my first purchase was a gallon of milk; Captain Curtis and myself drank the whole of it before we lay down for the night. The next day we had a good rest. Captain Curtis picked up, during the day, information of a party of troopers that were camped over the other side of the Shenandoah, and obtained permission to take me and forty men and find them, if we could, that night. We called our men out at twelve and started. It was very dark, and there was a severe thunderstorm. We were ferried across the Shenandoah, and scouted all over the mountains, visiting every farm-house and barn, but we found we were just too late, as they had left, suspecting our approach. We got back to camp at eight or nine o'clock, wet and tired, having traveled some ten miles over the roughest possible roads.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 9-10

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 9, 1861

My adieus over, I set out in the broad light of day. When the cars arrived at Camden, I proceeded, with the rest of the through passengers, in the boat to the navy yard, without going ashore in the city. The passengers were strangers to me. Many could be easily recognized as Southern men; but quite as many were going only as far as Washington, for their reward. They were bold denouncers of the rebellion; the others were silent, thoughtful, but in earnest.

The first thing which attracted my attention, as the cars left the Delaware depot, was a sign-board on my left, inscribed in large letters, “union Cemetery.” My gaze attracted the notice of others. A mocking bon-mot was uttered by a Yankee wit, which was followed-by laughter.

For many hours I was plunged in the deepest abstraction, and spoke not a word until we were entering the depot at Washington, just as the veil of night was falling over the scene.

Then I was aroused by the announcement of a conductor that, failing to have my trunk rechecked at Baltimore, it had been left in that city! Determined not to lose it, I took the return train to Baltimore, and put up at Barnum's Hotel. Here I met with Mr. Abell, publisher of the Baltimore Sun, an old acquaintance. Somewhat contrary to my expectations, knowing him to be a native of the North, I found him an ardent secessionist. So enthusiastic was he in the cause, that he denounced both Maryland and Virginia for their hesitancy in following the example of the Cotton States; and he invited me to furnish his paper with correspondence from Montgomery, or any places in the South where I might be a sojourner.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 14

Major Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, September 5, 1861

Sutton, Or Suttonville, Virginia, September 5, 1861.

DEAREST: — We are in another camp of fine views. This is the last stronghold of our army as we advance toward the enemy. We are now part of an army of from six to eight thousand and are pushing towards an advancing enemy stronger in numbers, it is said. Some time will perhaps elapse before we meet, but we are pretty certain to meet unless the enemy withdraws. This, I think, they will do. I like the condition of things. Our force, although not large, is of good regiments for the most part: McCook's Ninth, Colonel Smith's Thirteenth, Lytle's Tenth (Irish), are all here; also Colonel Moor's Twenty-eighth (Markbreit's regiment), Colonel Lowe's Twelfth, our regiment, and Colonel Porshner's Forty-ninth (Wilstach regiment) coming; also one part company of Regulars; four companies artillery, four companies cavalry. An army about as large as can well manoeuvre in these mountains. General Rosecrans is in command in person with General Benham of the Regular Army to second him. We are camped on both sides of Elk River, connected by a beautiful suspension bridge. Camps on high hills; fortifications on all the summits. “A gay and festive scene,” as Artemus Ward would say, especially about sundown when three or four fine bands are playing in rivalry.

Elk River empties into Kanawha, so that the water now dripping from my tent will pass you, perhaps, about a fortnight hence; the clearest, purest water it is too. From the tops of the high hills you can see the rocks in the river covered by ten or twenty feet of water. Nothing finer in Vermont or New Hampshire.

I have just got a letter from Dr. James [D. Webb]. Say to him, let all my letters be opened, and if any are important, send them; otherwise, not, unless from some especial friend. Send me some stamps and tell me how you are off for cash. We expect to be paid soon; if so, I can send you some three hundred to six hundred dollars.

We are to have a bore here in a few days — a court-martial on some officer in the Tenth or Twelfth, and I am to be judge-advocate, unless I can diplomatize out of it, which I hope to do.

We got today papers from Cincinnati — the Times of the 28th and the Commercial of the 2d. Think of it; only three days old! It has rumors that General Rosecrans is captured. Well, not quite. He is in good health, and the Twenty-third Regiment is his especial guard. No force can get him here without passing my tent.

Among the interesting things in camp are the boys. You recollect the boy in Captain McIlrath's company; we have another like unto him in Captain Woodward's. He ran away from Norwalk to Camp Dennison; went into the Fifth, then into the Guthries, and as we passed their camp, he was pleased with us, and now is “a boy of the Twenty-third.” He drills, plays officer, soldier, or errand boy, and is a curiosity in camp. We are getting dogs too, some fine ones; almost all the captains have horses and a few mules have been “realized” — that's the word — from Secessionists.

It is clearing off, so we shall be happy again. I am sorry you are unwell. Don't get down-spirited. We shall get through and come home again. Love and kisses for all the boys. Affectionate regards to Grandma. Jim's letters will be very acceptable. Goodbye, darling.

Affectionately,

R. B. Hayes.

P. S. — If you could see the conveniences (?) I have for writing, you would see how such a scrawl as this becomes a possibility. I have found out the day of the week and month; it is Thursday, the 5th September, 1861.

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 85-7

John Lothrop Motley to Anna Lothrop Motley, March 15, 1861

31, Hertford Street,

March 15th, 1861.

My Deaeest Mother, — . . . . . It is not for want of affection and interest, not from indolence, but I can hardly tell you how difficult it is to me to write letters. I pass as much of my time daily as I can at the State Paper Office, reading hard in the old MSS. there for my future volumes; and as the hours are limited there to from ten till four, I am not really master of my own time.

I am delighted to find that the success of the “United Netherlands” gives you and my father so much pleasure. It is by far the pleasantest reward for the hard work I have gone through to think that the result has given you both so much satisfaction. Not that I grudge the work, for, to say the truth, I could not exist without hard labour, and if I were compelled to be idle for the rest of my days, I should esteem it the severest affliction possible.

My deepest regret is that my work should be for the present on the wrong side of the Atlantic. Before leaving the subject of the new volumes, I should like to say that I regret that no one has sent me any of the numerous reviews and notices in the American papers and magazines to which you allude. I received a number of the New York Times from the governor, and also the Courier, containing notices. The latter, which was beautifully and sympathetically written, I ascribed to Hillard's pen, which I do not think I can mistake. If this be so, I hope you will convey my best thanks to him.

These are the only two which have been sent to me, and it is almost an impossibility for me to procure American newspapers here. Of course both Mary and Lily, as well as myself, would be pleased to see such notices, and it seems so easy to have a newspaper directed to 31, Hertford Street, with a three cent stamp. Fortunately I recently subscribed to the Atlantic Monthly, and so received the March number, in which there is a most admirably written notice, although more complimentary than I deserve. It is with great difficulty that I can pick up anything of the sort, and I fear now that as the time passes it will be difficult for me to receive them from America.

The Harpers have not written to me, but I received a line from Tom showing that the book was selling very well considering the times. As to politics, I shall not say a word, except that at this moment we are in profound ignorance as to what will be the policy of the new administration, how the inauguration business went off, and what was the nature of Mr. Lincoln's address, and how it was received, all which you at home at this moment have known for eleven days. I own that I can hardly see any medium between a distinct recognition of the Southern Confederacy as an independent foreign power, and a vigorous war to maintain the United States Government throughout the whole country. But a war without an army means merely a general civil war, for the great conspiracy to establish the Southern Republic, concocted for twenty years, and brought to maturity by Mr. Buchanan's Cabinet Ministers, has, by that wretched creature's connivance and vacillation, obtained such consistency in these fatal three months of interregnum as to make it formidable. The sympathy of foreign powers, and particularly of England, on which the seceders so confidently relied to help them on in their plot, has not been extended to them. I know on the very highest authority and from repeated conversations that the English Government looks with deepest regret on the dismemberment of the great American Republic. There has been no negotiation whatever up to this time of any kind, secret or open, with the secessionists. This I was assured of three or four days ago. At the same time I am obliged to say that there has been a change, a very great change, in English sympathy since the passing of the Morrill Tariff Bill. That measure has done more than any commissioner from the Southern Republic could do to alienate the feelings of the English public towards the United States, and they are much more likely to recognise the Southern Confederacy at an early day than they otherwise would have done. If the tariff people had been acting in league with the secessionists to produce a strong demonstration in Europe in favour of the dissolution of the Union, they could not have managed better.

I hear that Lewis Stackpole is one of the most rising young lawyers of the day, that he is very popular everywhere, thought to have great talents for his profession, great industry, and that he is sure to succeed. You may well suppose with how much delight we hear such accounts of him.

My days are always spent in hard work, and as I never work at night, going out to dinners and parties is an agreeable and useful relaxation, and as I have the privilege of meeting often many of the most eminent people of our times, I should be very stupid if I did not avail myself of it; and I am glad that Lily has so good an opportunity of seeing much of the most refined and agreeable society in the world.

The only very distinguished literary person that I have seen of late for the first time is Dickens. I met him last week at a dinner at John Forster's. I had never even seen him before, for he never goes now into fashionable company. He looks about the age of Longfellow. His hair is not much grizzled and is thick, although the crown of his head is getting bald. His features are good, the nose rather high, the eyes largish, greyish and very expressive. He wears a moustache and beard, and dresses at dinner in exactly the same uniform which every man in London or the civilised world is bound to wear, as much as the inmates of a penitentiary are restricted to theirs. I mention this because I had heard that he was odd and extravagant in his costume. I liked him exceedingly. We eat next each other at table, and I found him genial, sympathetic, agreeable, unaffected, with plenty of light easy talk and touch-and-go fun without any effort or humbug of any kind. He spoke with great interest of many of his Boston friends, particularly of Longfellow, Wendell Holmes, Felton, Sumner, and Tom Appleton.

I have got to the end of my paper, my dearest mother, and so with love to the governor and A––, and all the family great and small, I remain,

Most affectionately your son,

J. L. M.

P.S. — I forgot to say that another of Forster's guests was Wilkie Collins (the “Woman in White's” author). He is a little man, with black hair, a large white forehead, large spectacles, and small features. He is very unaffected, vivacious, and agreable.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Volume 1, p. 362-5

Major Rutherford B. Hayes to Sardis Birchard, August 17, 1861

Headquarters 23D Reg't, O. V. Inf., U. S. A.,

August 17, 1861.

Dear Uncle: — We are kept very busy, hunting up guerrillas, escorting trains, etc., etc. Attacking parties are constantly met on the roads in the mountains, and small stations are surrounded and penned up. We send daily parties of from ten to one hundred on these expeditions, distances of from ten to forty miles. Union men persecuted for opinion's sake are the informers. The Secessionists in this region are the wealthy and educated, who do nothing openly, and the vagabonds, criminals, and ignorant barbarians of the country; while the Union men are the middle classes — the law-and-order, well-behaved folks. Persecutions are common, killings not rare, robberies an every-day occurrence.

Some bands of Rebels are so strong that we are really in doubt whether they are guerrillas or parts of Wise's army coming in to drive us out. The Secessionists are boastful, telling of great forces which are coming. Altogether, it is stirring times just now. Lieutenant-Colonel Matthews is nearly one hundred miles south of us with half our regiment, and is not strong enough to risk returning to us. With Colonels Tyler and Smith, he will fortify near Gauley Bridge on [the] Kanawha.

Dr. Rice is here sick in charge of Dr. Joe. He got in safely from a post that was invested about thirty miles west. He will get well, but has been very sick. This is the healthiest country in the world. I have not been in such robust health for a great while. My horse is not tough enough for this service. I had better have taken Ned Jr., I suspect, although there is no telling. The strongest horses seem to fail frequently when rackabones stand it well. The Government has a good many horses, and I use them at pleasure. When I find one that will do, I shall keep it. . . .

Sincerely,

R. B. Hayes.

S. Birchard.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 68-9

Diary of Major Rutherford B. Hayes: Wednesday, August 14, 1861

The weather has changed to cool, and although the sky is still clouded I hope this long rain is now over. Our prisoners turn out to be Hezekiah and Granville Bennett, cousins of the notorious James and William Bennett, aged forty-nine and twenty-two, father and son, and Moss and George W. Brothers, aged fifty-eight and forty-eight. Our information is not definite as to their conduct. One or more of them belonged to the Southern army, and all are accused by their Union neighbors with divers acts of violence against law-and-order citizens.

Last evening Lieutenant Milroy came over from Glenville reporting that Captain R. B. Moore feared an attack from three companies of well armed Secessionists in the region west of them, say Spencer, and was fortifying himself. The people immediately around him are friendly, he having conducted himself with great prudence and good sense and by kindness and justice made friends of the people of all parties.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 65

Brigadier-General Thomas Kilby Smith to Bettie Smith, April 19, 1865

Headquarters District Of South Alabama,

Fort Gaines, Ala., April 19, 1865.

My Dear Daughter Bettie:

I have just returned from Mobile, where I have been sojourning for three or four days past, and you will want some description of the city and what I saw there. You must know that Mobile, the principal city and only seaport of Alabama, was the original seat of French colonization in the southwest, and for many years the capital of the colony of Louisiana. I shall transcribe for you a little bit of history, while for its geographical position you must go to the map. In 1702, Lemoine de Bienville, acting under the instructions of his brother Iberville, transferred the principal seat of the colony from Biloxi, where it had been established three years previously, to a point on the river Mobile, supposed to be about twenty miles above the present site of the city, where he established a post to which he gave the name of “St. Louis de la Mobile.” At the same time he built a fort and warehouse on “Isle Dauphine,” at the entrance of Mobile Bay (where my headquarters now are).

The settlement at Biloxi was soon afterwards broken up. In 1704, there was an arrival of twenty young girls from France, and the next year of twenty-three others, selected and sent out under the auspices of the Bishop of Quebec, as wives for the colonists. Many of the original settlers were Canadians, like Iberville and Bienville. In 1705, occurred a severe epidemic, supposed to be the first recorded visitation of yellow fever, by which thirty-five persons were carried off.

The year 1706 is noted for the “petticoat insurrection,” which was a threatened rebellion of females in consequence of the dissatisfaction with the diet of Indian corn, to which they were reduced. The colony meanwhile frequently suffered from famine as well as from the attacks of Indians although relieved by occasional supplies sent from the mother country. In 1711 the settlement was nearly destroyed by a hurricane and flood in consequence of which it was removed to its present situation. In 1712 the King of France made a grant of the whole colony to Antoine Crozat, a wealthy French merchant, and in the following year Bienville was superseded as governor by M. de la Motte Cadillac. In 1717 Crozat relinquished his grant to the French government, and Bienville was reinstated. In 1723, the seat of the colonial government was transferred to New Orleans. In 1763, by the treaty of Paris, Mobile with all that portion of Louisiana lying east of the Mississippi and north of Bayou Iberville, Lake Maurepas, and Pontchartrain, passed into the possession of Great Britain. In 1780, the Fort, the name of which had been changed into Fort Condé, and subsequently by the British to Fort Charlotte, was captured by the Spanish General, Don Galvez, Governor of Louisiana, and in 1783, its occupancy was confirmed to Spain by the cession to that power of all the British possession on the Gulf of Mexico. On the 13th of April, 1813, just fifty-two years before the time it had been taken possession of by General Canby, the Spanish Commandant Gayatama Perez surrendered the fort and town to General Wilkinson. At that period, the population, which in 1785 had amounted to eight hundred and forty-six, was estimated at only five hundred, half of whom were blacks. In December, 1819, Mobile was incorporated as a city. Mobile is now a city of moderate size, a population of probably forty thousand inhabitants and before the war was opulent and characterized as the most aristocratic city of the South, though I suppose Charleston would dispute, or rather would have disputed, this point. There has evidently been a lavish display of money and many of the houses and public buildings are elegant and tasteful in their style and adornment. The luxuriance of vegetation in this climate gives great advantages in the adornment of the streets and grounds with shade trees and beautiful shrubs, vines and flowers. The present season corresponds with June with you, and to me it was a rare and beautiful sight yesterday to look down the long vista of “Government” street, their principal avenue through the aisle of magnolia in full leaf and bloom, the pride of China, the crape myrtle and many other trees, the names of which I do not know, but all laden with bud and leaf and flower; while in relief, the houses were wreathed with ivy, climbing roses, while the sweet-scented double violet added delicious perfume to the fragrance of countless varieties of standard roses. The people have great taste and wonderful love for flowers in the South; even the ragged urchins and barefooted little girls carry bouquets that would be the envy of a ball-room belle in Cincinnati. The streets are very broad, and have been paved with shells, but the sandy nature of the soil has caused them to disappear beneath the surface. The sidewalks are brick, as in Cincinnati. The city was like a city of the dead. The principal men being in the army, were either prisoners or had fled. The ladies secluded themselves from the public gaze. A semi-official notice from the headquarters of the rebel General Maury had warned them that General Canby had promised his soldiers three days' pillage; consequently, the people, when our troops took possession, were frightened and anticipated all sorts of enormities. Since, they have been in a constant state of profound astonishment. The drinking houses were all closed, and a rigid system of discipline has been enforced, quiet and order prevails.

While in Mobile, I was the guest of General Canby, who has taken quarters at one of the best houses. I met there in the family of the owner a fair sample of the young and middle-aged ladies of the place, and the schoolgirls.

Everything is as old-fashioned as four years non-intercourse with the “outside barbarians,” as they would style us, would be apt to induce. This in dress, literature, and conversation. You will hear that there is Union sentiment in Mobile, perhaps that not more than ten per cent, of its people are secessionists; but my word for it, that not a man, woman, or child, who has lived in Mobile the last four years, but who prays death and destruction to the “damned Yankees.”

Well, I have given you a birds-eye view of the city. If there is anything more you want to know, you must ask. In case anybody should ask the question, you may say, that there were taken with Mobile upwards of thirty-five thousand bales of cotton, over a million bushels of corn, twenty thousand bushels of wheat, and large stores of tobacco. I don't think that mother, for some time hereafter, will be compelled to give a dollar a yard for domestics and double the price for calico. You must all have new dresses. I am glad to get back from Mobile to my little island. There the weather was warm and the air close and heavy, here I have always a delicious sea breeze. It is very cool and pleasant. I have a fine hard beach as level as your parlor floor, upon which I can ride for twenty miles and see the great ocean with its mighty pulses break at my feet. I have a little fleet of boats; one, a beautiful steamer called the Laura, that had been built by the rebels as a blockade runner, as quick as lightning and elegantly fitted up, was sunk a day or two since by running on to a pile. I am now having her raised again. I have also a beautiful little yacht, a light sailboat rigged as a sloop with one mast bowsprit and jib. She sails beautifully on the wind; is large enough to carry half a dozen very well. I have just had her elegantly painted, and one of my officers is to-day manufacturing a streamer for her. She has been called the Vivian, but I am going to change her name and rechristen her the Bessie and Belle. When I get a little more leisure I shall sail in her down to the coral reefs and fish for pompino, sheepsheads and poissons rouge. Oysters now are going out of season. I am told they eat them here all the year round, but to my notion they are becoming milky. I shall now take to crabs and fish. I have been keeping Lent admirably.

You say you hope “peace will be declared.” I should be glad, my dear daughter, to see your hopes fulfilled; but peace will be long coming to our country and papa; it would do to dream and talk of, but the snake is only scotched, not killed. Our hope may rest on a foreign war, and to-day I could unite many of our enemies to march with us under the folds of our own starry banner to fight the swarthy Mexicans or the dull, cold Englishman, but without this event we must fight on among ourselves for many a year to come. God grant our jubilee may not have rung out too soon. How long will it take the North to learn the South? But these are questions, my dear daughter, not for your consideration, yet, at least. Study your books, my child, and learn to love God and keep his commandments, and when you pray, pray first for wisdom and then for strength, and if you want your prayers answered, study your books and go about much in the open air.

I send you some lines you may put away in your scrapbook and when you get to be an old lady like grandma, and have your own grandchildren on your knee, one day you may get out the old battered book and read to them what your father sent you from the war.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 387-91

Lieutenant-Colonel John Edwards to Governor Samuel J. Kirkwood, July 28, 1861

PLEASANT PLAINS, IOWA, July 28, 1861.

Governor S. J. KIRKWOOD:

DEAR SIR: Since my dispatch to you, dated Leon, July 23, communicating a general account of the recent troubles on the border of Ringgold County, I have the honor to report to you further troubles, with my action in the premises, with the hope that it will meet your sanction.

On my return home from Leon, I was met by a messenger from Capt. W. C. Drake, of Corydon, who was at that time stationed at Allenville, on the border of Ringgold County, informing me that Colonel Cranor, of Gentry County, Missouri, had sent to him for assistance and re-enforcements, as the rebels were fortified on Grand River, reported to be from 800 to 1,200 strong, with three pieces of artillery. Colonel Cranor had under his command about 300 Union Missouri men, badly armed, and over 100 Iowans, who had volunteered under him. I dispatched a messenger from Garden Grove to the various armed companies within reach, ordering them to march and concentrate at Allenville immediately, also at Chariton. Communications were sent to Keokuk and Burlington for two pieces of artillery, to be forwarded to me, if they could be obtained. I also sent a messenger to Captain Drake, to ascertain more minutely the facts as to the condition of affairs in his vicinity. I started for Captain Drake's camp, but was met 25 miles this side by the returning messengers, whom I had sent the day before. These confirmed all the intelligence brought me the day previous.

On reaching Captain Drake's camp I ascertained that messengers had just arrived from Colonel Cranor's command, conveying the information that the belligerents, then within 4 miles of each other, had made a treaty of peace. I have seen a copy of it, and it is in substance as follows: Each party was to lay down its arms, return home, and assist each other in enforcing the laws of Missouri against all offenders. This was a decided victory gained by the rebels, as the terms were general, and embraced the obnoxious “military bill” of that State, and such laws as the rebel legislature, then in session in the southern part of the State of Missouri, might thereafter pass, under the auspices of Governor Jackson.

Colonel Cranor resides in the neighborhood of a large body of secessionists, and was no doubt influenced to enter into such a treaty in consequence of intimidation and threats against his life and property. The secessionists in that region are more bold than before, and have recommenced mustering under the military laws of the State, which are obnoxious to the Union men, and to which they will not submit. The Union men of that region of the State are indignant and mortified at the terms of the treaty. Many have become disheartened, have abandoned their property and their crops, and are leaving the State. The same feelings have taken hold? really families on the border, in Iowa. I have seen several families who, abandoning everything to the fates, have returned to friends in other States. The loyal men of both States, separated merely by an imaginary line, have the same sympathies in a common cause. Whatever excitement is raised or demonstration made in Missouri tending to injure the property and destroy the lives of Union men of that State appeals for aid to friends and neighbors in Iowa; nor do they appeal in vain. The arming and military parades made by our companies along the border at most points have produced most salutary effects; it strengthens and inspires the Union men of Missouri, and carries over to them the neutrals and a great many terror-stricken secessionists. They voluntarily come forward every day and take the oath of allegiance.

In connection with the subject of my last dispatch to you, I would say that at least 1,500 citizens of Iowa left their harvest fields and families and rushed into Missouri to the relief of the Union men. These citizens were armed in every conceivable manner, without officers, system, or drill. They generally traversed a country broken with timber and undergrowth. Had the rebels displayed sufficient nerve and skill they might have killed and captured them all; or had a general engagement taken place, our citizens, without officers, system, or drill, might have slaughtered each other.

The loyal men of Missouri express their gratitude to the people of Iowa for their timely aid and support on every trying occasion. Everything they possessed was cheerfully offered free of charge to render our citizens as comfortable as possible. I know several gentlemen who not only fed hundreds of Missouri citizens and their horses daily, for over a week at a time, but spent hundreds of dollars, sometimes their last dollar, in this benevolent manner. On account of the excitement and constant alarm along the border our citizens lost much valuable time by frequent hurrying to arms; therefore a vast amount of grain was lost on the fields.

In view of apprehended outbreaks, sooner or later, on the border of Ringgold and Taylor Counties, I have ordered into camp at this place those companies which have received marching orders and are already on the way to the scene of difficulty. For the reasons before stated, coupled with the news of our late reverses at Manassas Junction, the rebels here and elsewhere will be inspired with new vigor. I came into camp last night with three companies; the rest will follow to-day and to-morrow. I have commenced systematizing every department of the service, placing the most competent men in the various positions; the strictest discipline will be adopted, and drill performed as in the United States service. Every arrangement necessary for the comfort and health of the soldiers will be carried out. The most rigid economy will be practiced, and an exact account rendered of every cent of expense incurred. The times are such that the people demand that something be done at once and effectively. We are so situated on the border that when we are called upon to act we must act at once. Heretofore we had no system; if called into action our men were liable to be cut off by the and by one enemy another. All the companies called into camp are armed except the cavalry, decidedly the most effective on the border. For want of better, I shall arm them with muskets as far as I can.

I have ordered into camp on the line between Taylor and Ringgold Counties two companies for thirty days, unless sooner ordered to disband, as you may direct. I will keep out scouts for the next ten days in the vicinity where danger will be most likely to occur. I will be ready to strike at a moment's notice. If I am convinced that matters are settled, I will in less than two weeks strike camp.

By that time I am of the opinion we shall be able to determine, with some degree of certainty, the shape things will assume at the strong secession holds. There has been a settled understanding among the secessionists throughout Missouri to strike a blow simultaneously with Governor Jackson, who is operating in the southern portion of the State. I will report to you as often as I can my proceedings.

The principal design of the secessionists in the northern portion of the State is to keep up the excitement as much as possible, to divert attention from Jackson's operations, while they will do all in their power to harass the Union men in both States. They will not come to a regular engagement. In Gentry County alone they will number at least 1,000, who are continually on the tramp, day and night, skulking in the bush.

We have derived a great deal of authentic information through our scouts, who have penetrated their camps and councils, coming in upon them from the southeast and passing for secessionists.

The 300 muskets have just arrived.

I remain, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

 JOHN EDWARDS,

 Lieutenant-Colonel and Aide-de-Camp.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 3 (Serial No. 3), p. 412-4