Edward Bates to Abraham Lincoln, March 15, 1861

The President of the United States has required my opinion in writing, upon the following question:

“Assuming it to be possible to now provision Fort Sumter, under all the circumstances, is it wise to attempt it?”

This is not a question of lawful right nor physical power, but of prudence & patriotism only. The right is, in my mind unquestionable, and I have no doubt at all that the Government has the power and the means, not only to provision the Fort, but also, if the exigency required, to man it, with its war complement of 650 men, so as to make it impregnable to any local force that could be brought against it. Assuming all this, we come back to the question – “Under all the circumstances, is it wise,” now to provision the fort?

The wisdom of the act must be tested by the value of the object to be gained, & by the hazards to be encountered in the enterprise. The object to be gained, by the supply of provisions, is not to strengthen the fortress, so as to command the harbor and enforce the laws, but only to prolong the labors & privations of the brave little garrison that have so long held it, with patient courage.

The possession of the fort, as we now hold it, does not enable us to collect the revenue or enforce the laws of commercial navigation. It may indeed involve a point of honor or a point of pride, but I do not see any great national interest involved in the bare fact of holding the fort, as we now hold it – and to hold it at all, we must supply it with provisions. And it seems to me that we may, in humanity & patriotism, safely waive the point of pride, in the consciousness that we have the power, and lack nothing but the will, to hold Fort Sumter in such condition as to command the harbor of Charleston, cut off all its commerce, and even lay the city in ashes.

The hazards to be met are many and obvious. If the attempt be made in rapid boats light enough to pass the bar in safety, still they must pass under the fire of Fort Moultrie and the batteries on Morris' Island. They might possibly escape that danger, but they cannot hope to escape the armed guard boats which ply all night, from the Fort to the outer edge of the bar- These armed guard boats would be sure to take or destroy our unarmed tugs, unless repelled by force, either from our ships outside the bar, or from Fort Sumter within – and that is war. True, war already exists by the act of South Carolina – but this Government has, thus far, magnanimously forborne to retort the outrage. And I am willing to forbear yet longer, in the hope of a peaceful solution of our present difficulties. I am most unwilling to strike – I will not say the first blow, for South Carolina has already struck that – but I am unwilling, “under all the circumstances,” at this moment to do any act, which may have the semblance, before the world, of beginning a civil war, the terrible consequences of which would, I think, find no parallel in modern times. For I am convinced that flagrant civil war in the Southern states, would soon become a social war, and that could hardly fail to bring on a servile war, the horrors of which need not be dwelt upon.

To avoid these evils, I would make great sacrifices, – and Fort Sumter is one; but if war be forced upon us by causeless & pertinacious rebellion, I am for resisting it, with all the might of the nation.

I am persuaded, moreover, that in several of the misguided states of the South, a large proportion of the people are really lovers of the Union, and anxious to be safely back, under the protection of its flag. A reaction has already begun, and, if encouraged by wise, moderate, and firm measures on the part of this Government, I persuade myself that the nation will be restored to its integrity, without the effusion of blood.

For these reasons, I am willing to evacuate Fort Sumter, rather than be an active party in the beginning of civil war. The port of Charleston, is, comparatively, a small thing. If the present difficulties should continue & grow, I am convinced, that the real struggle will be at the mouth of the Mississippi, for it is not politically possible for any foreign power, to hold the mouth of that river, against the people of the middle & upper valley.

If Fort Sumter must be evacuated, then it is my decided opinion, that the more Southern forts, – Pickens, Key West &c – should, without delay, be put in condition of easy defence against all assailants; and that the whole coast from South Carolina to Texas, should be as well guarded as the power of the Navy will enable us.

Upon the whole, I do not think it wise now to attempt to provision Fort Sumter.

Most respectfully submitted

Edwd. Bates

Atty. Genl

SOURCE: Abraham Lincoln Papers at the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, April 17, 1862

Raleigh, Virginia, April 17, 1862.

Dearest: — I was made happy by your letter and the fine picture of you it contained. You seem undecided which you intended should have it, Uncle Joe or your husband. But I shall keep it. You will have to send another to Joe.

Very glad the money and everything turned out all right. I get the Commercial quite often — often enough to pay for taking it. And you paid Mr. Trenchard! Why, you are getting to be a business woman. I shall have to let the law out to you when I come home again. I do not know that I shall have an opportunity to do much for Will De Charmes, but I shall bear him in mind. If Fremont ever comes along here I may succeed.

We are still hunting bushwhackers, succoring persecuted Union men, and the like. Our intended advance was stopped by a four-days rain which, like the old four-days meeting, I began to think never would end. We are now getting ready to go on — in fact we are ready, but waiting for others. A great battle at Pittsburg [Landing] and probably not a very great victory. It will all come right, however. We are told that Captain Richardson of the Fifty-fourth was killed. You will perhaps remember him as a gigantic lieutenant of Company D, whose wife was at Camp Chase when you were there.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 229-30

Colonel William F. Bartlett to Governor John A. Andrew, April 14, 1864

Your Excellency, — I hope, sir, we shall do the flag more credit in action, than we can do ourselves in speech.

My Men! This flag, which is the standard of our own Massachusetts, and this which we have been taught to look upon as the sacred emblem of our nation, have today been formally entrusted to our keeping, to carry and defend, by the Governor of our State. Can I say to him for you, that you will try to do honor to this trust? That you will carry it and defend it, whenever and wherever duty calls; that you will never desert, disown, or disgrace it; that you will swear by it, pray for it, live for it, and if need be, die for it; and that you will devote yourselves to its service until it shall be feared and respected throughout the recreant South, as it is loved and cherished by the loyal North?

Ever since that flag was insulted by traitors in Charleston harbor, it has had a warmer place in the heart of every loyal man. When her high-toned orators threatened the South's rebellion and secession, we endured a great deal of personal insult and abuse, calmly and silently. But when, viper-like, she turned and fired upon that flag which had shielded and protected her, she struck a blow which blood alone can atone for. She made a blot on the page of our national history which we are in arms to-day to wipe out. As it went slowly and sullenly down on those battered walls, it went up like magic on every hill-top and tower, on every steeple and staff throughout the North; and nearer and dearer to us than anything else on earth, and reverenced next to our religion, is that old flag still.

There are those at the South who, still true to their country, are waiting silently and patiently till they see the gleam of its folds again — a token of the return of good government, the overthrow of despotism and rebellion; and there are those, too, who wait hopefully, prayerfully, for its coming, for they know that now and hereafter, wherever that flag floats, all men are free.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 97-8

Diary of William Howard Russell: May 20, 1861

I left Mobile in the steamer Florida for New Orleans this morning at eight o'clock. She was crowded with passengers, in uniform. In my cabin was a notice of the rules and regulations of the steamer. No. 6 was as follows: “All slave servants must be cleared at the Custom House. Passengers having slaves will please report as soon as they come on board.”

A few miles from Mobile the steamer, turning to the right, entered one of the narrow channels which perforate the whole of the coast, called “Grant's Pass.” An ingenious person has rendered it navigable by an artificial cut; but as he was not an universal philanthropist, and possibly may have come from north of the Tweed, he further erected a series of barriers, which can only be cleared by means of a little pepper-castor iron lighthouse; and he charges toll on all passing vessels. A small island at the pass, just above water-level, about twenty yards broad and one hundred and fifty yards long, was being fortified. Some of our military friends landed here ; and it required a good deal of patriotism to look cheerfully at the prospect of remaining cooped up among the mosquitoes in a box, on this miserable sand-bank, which a shell would suffice to blow into atoms.

Having passed this channel, our steamer proceeded up a kind of internal sea, formed by the shore, on the right hand and on the left, by a chain almost uninterrupted of reefs covered with sand, and exceedingly narrow, so that the surf of the ocean rollers at the other side could be seen through the foliage of the pine-trees which line them. On our right the endless pines closed up the land view of the horizon; the beach was pierced by creeks without number, called bayous; and it was curious to watch the white sails of the little schooners gliding in and out among the trees along the green meadows that seemed to stretch as an impassable barrier to their exit. Immense troops of pelicans flapped over the sea, dropping incessantly on the fish which abounded in the inner water; and long rows of the same birds stood digesting their plentiful meals on the white beach by the ocean foam.

There was some anxiety in the passengers' minds, as it was reported that the United States cruisers had been seen inside, and that they had even burned the batteries on Ship Island. We saw nothing of a character more formidable than coasting craft and a return steamer from New Orleans till we approached the entrance to Pontchartrain, when a large schooner, which sailed like a witch and was crammed with men, attracted our attention. Through the glass I could make out two guns on her deck, and quite reason enough for any well-filled merchantman sailing under the Stars and Stripes to avoid her close companionship.

The approach to New Orleans is indicated by large hamlets and scattered towns along the seashore, hid in the piney woods, which offer a retreat to the merchants and their families from the fervid heat of the unwholesome city in summer time. As seen from the sea, these sanitary settlements have a picturesque effect, and an air of charming freshness and lightness. There are detached villas of every variety of architecture in which timber can be constructed, painted in the brightest hues — greens, and blues, and rose tints — each embowered in magnolias and rhododendrons. From every garden a very long and slender pier, terminated by a bathing-box, stretches into the shallow sea; and the general aspect of these houses, with the light domes and spires of churches rising above the lines of white railings set in the dark green of the pines, is light and novel. To each of these cities there is a jetty, at two of which we touched, and landed newspapers, received or discharged a few bales of goods, and were off again.

Of the little crowd assembled on each, the majority were blacks — the whites, almost without exception, in uniform, and armed. A near approach did not induce me to think that any agencies less powerful than epidemics and summer-heats could render Pascagoula, Passchristian, Mississippi City, and the rest of these settlements very eligible residences for people of an active turn of mind.

The livelong day my fellow-passengers never ceased talking politics, except when they were eating and drinking, because the horrible chewing and spitting are not at all incompatible with the maintenance of active discussion. The fiercest of them all was a thin, fiery-eyed little woman, who at dinner expressed a fervid desire for bits of “Old Abe” — his ear, his hair; but whether for the purpose of eating or as curious relics, she did not enlighten the company.

After dinner there was some slight difficulty among the military gentlemen, though whether of a political or personal character, I could not determine; but it was much aggravated by the appearance of a six-shooter on the scene, which, to my no small perturbation, was presented in a right line with my berth, out of the window of which I was looking at the combatants. I am happy to say the immediate delivery of the fire was averted by an amicable arrangement that the disputants should meet at the St. Charles Hotel at twelve o'clock on the second day after their arrival, in order to fix time, place, and conditions of a more orthodox and regular encounter.

At night the steamer entered a dismal canal, through a swamp which is infamous as the most mosquito haunted place along the infested shore; the mouths of the Mississippi themselves being quite innocent, compared to the entrance of Lake Pontchartrain. When I woke up at daylight, I found the vessel lying alongside a wharf with a railway train alongside, which is to take us to the city of New Orleans, six miles distant.

A village of restaurants or “restaurants,” as they are called here, and of bathing boxes has grown up around the terminus; all the names of the owners, the notices and sign-boards being French. Outside the settlement the railroad passes through a swamp, like an Indian jungle, through which the over-flowings of the Mississippi creep in black currents. The spires of New Orleans rise above the underwood and semi-tropical vegetation of this swamp. Nearer to the city lies a marshy plain, in which flocks of cattle, up to the belly in the soft earth are floundering among the clumps of vegetation. The nearer approach to New Orleans by rail lies through a suburb of exceedingly broad lanes, lined on each side by rows of miserable mean one-storied houses, inhabited, if I am to judge from the specimens I saw, by a miserable and sickly population.

A great number of the men and women had evident traces of negro blood in their veins, and of the purer blooded whites many had the peculiar look of the fishy-fleshy population of the Levantine towns, and all were pale and lean. The railway terminus is marked by a dirty, barrack-like shed in the city. Selecting one of the numerous tumble-down hackney carriages which crowded the street outside the station, I directed the man to drive me to the house of Mr. Mure, the British consul, who had been kind enough to invite me as his guest for the period of my stay in New Orleans.

The streets are badly paved, as those of most of the American cities, if not all that I have ever been in, but in other respects they are more worthy of a great city than are those of New York There is an air thoroughly French about the people — cafes, restaurants, billiard-rooms abound, with oyster and lager-bier saloons interspersed. The shops are all magazines; the people in the streets are speaking French, particularly the negroes, who are going out shopping with their masters and mistresses, exceedingly well dressed, noisy, and not unhappy looking. The extent of the drive gave an imposing idea of the size of New Orleans — the richness of some of the shops, the vehicles in the streets, and the multitude of well-dressed people on the pavements, an impression of its wealth and the comfort of the inhabitants, The Confederate flag was flying from the public buildings and from many private houses. Military companies paraded through the streets, and a large proportion of men were in uniform.

In the day I drove through the city, delivered letters of introduction, paid visits, and examined the shops and the public places; but there is such a whirl of secession and politics surrounding one it is impossible to discern much of the outer world.

Whatever may be the number of the Unionists or of the non-secessionists, a pressure too potent to be resisted has been directed by the popular party against the friends of the federal government. The agent of Brown Brothers, of Liverpool and New York, has closed their office and is going away in consequence of the intimidation of the mob, or as the phrase is here, the “excitement of the citizens,” on hearing of the subscription made by the firm to the New York fund, after Sumter had been fired upon. Their agent in Mobile has been compelled to adopt the same course. Other houses follow their example, but as most business transactions are over for the season, the mercantile community hope the contest will be ended before the next season, by the recognition of Southern Independence.

The streets are full of Turcos, Zouaves, Chasseurs; walls are covered with placards of volunteer companies; there are Pickwick rifles, La Fayette/Beauregard, MacMahon guards, Irish, German, Italian and Spanish and native volunteers, among whom the Meagher rifles, indignant with the gentleman from whom they took their name, because of his adhesion to the North, are going to rebaptize themselves and to seek glory under one more auspicious. In fact, New Orleans looks like a suburb of the camp at Chalons. Tailors are busy night and day making uniforms. I went into a shop with the consul for some shirts — the mistress and all her seamstresses were busy preparing flags as hard as the sewing-machine could stitch them, and could attend to no business for the present. The Irish population, finding themselves unable to migrate northwards, and being without work, have rushed to arms with enthusiasm to support Southern institutions, and Mr. John Mitchell and Mr. Meagher stand opposed to each other in hostile camps.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 227-31

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Friday, May 29, 1863

I took a walk before breakfast with Dr Quintard, a zealous Episcopal chaplain, who began life as a surgeon, which enables him to attend to the bodily as well as the spiritual wants of the Tennessean regiment to which he is chaplain. The enemy is about fifteen miles distant, and all the tops of the intervening hills are occupied as signal stations, which communicate his movements by flags in the daytime, and by beacons at night. A signal corps has been organised for this service. The system is most ingenious, and answers admirably. We all breakfasted at Mrs –––'s. The ladies were more excited even than yesterday in their diatribes against the Yankees. They insisted on cutting the accompanying paragraph out of to-day's newspaper, which they declared was a very fair exposition of the average treatment they received from the enemy.² They reproved Mrs ––– for having given assistance to the wounded Yankees at Wartrace last year; and a sister of Mrs –––'s, who is a very strong-minded lady, gave me a most amusing description of an interview she had had at Huntsville with the astronomer Mitchell, in his capacity of a Yankee general. It has often been remarked to me that, when this war is over, the independence of the country will be due, in a great measure, to the women; for they declare that had the women been desponding they could never have gone through with it; but, on the contrary, the women have invariably set an example to the men of patience, devotion, and determination. Naturally proud, and with an innate contempt for the Yankees, the Southern women have been rendered furious and desperate by the proceedings of Butler, Milroy, Turchin, &c. They are all prepared to undergo any hardships and misfortunes rather than submit to the rule of such people; and they use every argument which women can employ to infuse the same spirit into their male relations.

At noon I took leave for the present of General Hardee, and drove over in his ambulance to Shelbyville, eight miles, in company with Bishop Elliott and Dr Quintard. The road was abominable, and it was pouring with rain. On arriving at General Polk's, he invited me to take up my quarters with him during my stay with Bragg's army, which offer I accepted with gratitude. After dinner General Polk told me that he hoped his brethren in England did not very much condemn his present line of conduct. He explained to me the reasons which had induced him temporarily to forsake the cassock and return to his old profession. He stated the extreme reluctance he had felt in taking this step; and he said that so soon as the war was over, he should return to his episcopal avocations, in the same way as a man, finding his house on fire, would use every means in his power to extinguish the flames, and would then resume his ordinary pursuits. He commanded the Confederate forces at the battle of Perryville and Belmont, as well as his present corps d'armée at the battles of Shiloh (Corinth) and Murfreesborough. At 6.30 P.M., I called on General Bragg, the Commander-in-chief. This officer is in appearance the least prepossessing of the Confederate generals. He is very thin; he stoops, and has a sickly, cadaverous, haggard appearance, rather plain features, bushy black eyebrows which unite in a tuft on the top of his nose, and a stubby iron-grey beard; but his eyes are bright and piercing. He has the reputation of being a rigid disciplinarian, and of shooting freely for insubordination. I understand he is rather unpopular on this account, and also by reason of his occasional acerbity of manner. He was extremely civil to me, and gave me permission to visit the outposts, or any part of his army. He also promised to help me towards joining Morgan in Kentucky, and he expressed his regret that a boil on his hand would prevent him from accompanying me to the outposts. He told me that Rosecrans's position extended about forty miles, Murfreesborough (twenty-five miles distant) being his headquarters. The Confederate cavalry enclosed him in a semicircle extending over a hundred miles of country. He told me that “West Tennessee, occupied by the Federals, was devoted to the Confederate cause, whilst East Tennessee, now in possession of the Confederates, contained numbers of people of Unionist proclivities. This very place, Shelbyville, had been described to me by others as a “Union hole.” After my interview with General Bragg, I took a ride along the Murfreesborough road with Colonel Richmond, A.D.C. to General Polk. About two miles from Shelbyville, we passed some lines made to defend the position. The trench itself was a very mild affair, but the higher ground could be occupied by artillery in such a manner as to make the road impassable. The thick woods were being cut down in front of the lines for a distance of eight hundred yards, to give range. During our ride I met Major-General Cheetham, a stout, rather rough-looking man, but with the reputation of "a great fighter. It is said that he does all the necessary swearing in the 1st corps d'armée, which General Polk's clerical character incapacitates him from performing. Colonel Richmond gave me the particulars of General Van Dorn's death, which occurred about forty miles from this. His loss does not seem to be much regretted, as it appears he was always ready to neglect his military duties for an assignation. In the South it is not considered necessary to put yourself on an equality with a man in such a case as Van Dorn's by calling him out. His life belongs to the aggrieved husband, and “shooting down"”is universally esteemed the correct thing, even if it takes place after a lapse of time, as in the affair between General Van Dorn and Dr Peters.

News arrived this evening of the capture of Helena by the Confederates, and of the hanging of a negro regiment with forty Yankee officers. Every one expressed sorrow for the blacks, but applauded the destruction of their officers.²

I slept in General Polk's tent, he occupying a room in the house adjoining. Before going to bed, General Polk told me an affecting story of a poor widow in humble circumstances, whose three sons had fallen in battle one after the other, until she had only one left, a boy of sixteen. So distressing was her case that General Polk went himself to comfort her. She looked steadily at him, and replied to his condolences by the sentence, “As soon as I can get a few things together, General, you shall have Harry too.” The tears came into General Polk's eyes as he related this episode, which he ended by saying, “How can you subdue such a nation as this!”

_______________

¹ “Losses Of William F. Ricks. — The Yankees did not treat us very badly as they returned from pursuing our men beyond Leighton (at least no more than we expected); they broke down our smokehouse door and took seven hams, went into the kitchen and helped themselves to cooking utensils, tin ware, &c.; searched the house, but took nothing. As they passed up the second time we were very much annoyed by them, but not seriously injured; they took the only two mules we had, a cart, our milch cows, and more meat. It was on their return from this trip that our losses were so grievous. They drove their waggons up in our yard and loaded them with the last of our meat, all of our sugar, coffee, molasses, flour, meal, and potatoes. I went to a Lieut.-Colonel who seemed very busy giving orders, and asked him what he expected me to do; they had left me no provisions at all, and I had a large family, and my husband was away from home. His reply was short and pointed — ‘Starve, and be d----d, madam.’ They then proceeded to the carriage-house, took a fine new buggy that we had never used, the cushions and harness of our carriage, then cut the carriage up and left it. They then sent about sixty of the slyest, smoothest-fingered rogues I have ever seen in the Federal army (all the rogues I ever did see were in that army), into the house to search for whisky and money, while the officers remained in the back-yard trying to hire the servants to tell them where we had money hid. Their search proving fruitless, they loaded themselves with our clothing, bed-clothing, &c.; broke my dishes; stole my knives and forks; refused the keys and broke open my trunks, closets, and other doors. Then came the worst of all — the burners, or, as they call themselves, the ‘Destroying Angels.’ They burned our gin-house and press, with 125 bales of cotton, seven cribs containing 600 bolls of corn, our logs, stables, and six stacks of fodder, a waggon, and four negro cabins, our lumberroom, fine spinning-machine and 500 dollars' worth of thread, axes, hoes, scythe-blades, and all other plantation implements. Then they came with their torches to burn our house, the last remaining building they had left besides the negro quarter. That was too much; all my pride, and the resolutions that I had made (and until now kept up) to treat them with cool contempt, and never, let the worst come, humble myself to the thievish cutthroats, forsook me at the awful thought of my home in ruins; I must do something, and that quickly; — hardened, thieving villains, as I knew them to be, I would make one effort for the sake of my home. I looked over the crowd, as they huddled together to give orders about the burning, for one face that showed a trace of feeling, or an eye that beamed with a spark of humanity, but, finding none, I approached the nearest group, and pointing to the children (my sister's), I said, ‘You will not burn the house, will you? you drove those little ones from one home and took possession of it, and this is the only sheltering place they have.’ ‘You may thank your God, madam,’ said one of the ruffians, ‘that we have left you and your d----d brats with heads to be sheltered.’ Just then an officer galloped up — pretended to be very much astonished and terribly beset about the conduct of his men — cursed a good deal, and told a batch of falsehoods about not having given orders to burn anything but corn — made divers threats that were forgotten in utterance, and ordered his ‘Angels’ to fall into line, — thereby winding up the troubles of the darkest day I have ever seen. Mrs. Ricks.

“Losses before this last raid: six mules, five horses, one waggon (four-horse), fifty-two negroes.”

² This afterwards turned out to be untrue.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 141-8

Major Charles Fessenden Morse: November 22, 1863

Tullahoma, Tenn., November 22, 1863.

We have been moving about so much lately that I have omitted to write my usual quota of letters. A little more than a week ago, General Slocum received orders to remove his headquarters to Murfreesboro; we arrived there about a week ago Friday, and established ourselves in Rosecrans' old headquarters, the residence of a rebel congressman. Before the war, it must have been a very elegant house, and even as we found it, stripped as it was of all furniture, it seemed quite magnificent to us after living in tents. My room had been the front drawing room and was still decorated by a white marble mantle-piece and bronze chandelier. Every room in the house had a fine, open fireplace in it.

We lived here very comfortably till last Monday, when General Slocum was ordered to Tullahoma on account of a new disposition of troops along the road. We left Murfreesboro Wednesday morning; that same morning Colonel Rogers started home on a sick leave, so that I became acting Assistant Adjutant General of the corps for the time being. The day was a perfect one, and both ourselves and horses felt in fine spirits for a march. Our intention was to ride to Shelbyville that day, about twenty miles. We passed through some of the finest farming country in middle Tennessee, and had a fine chance to see and enjoy it. Much of the land had been used for raising cotton, and occasionally we would meet a wagon-load of this valuable article on its way to Nashville. I don't know when I've enjoyed a ride so much as I did the one that day. We arrived in Shelbyville about sunset. This town is the second in size in Tennessee, and has been a very pretty place, almost like a Northern one; it has been the stronghold of the Unionists of the State. During Wheeler's raid the place was entered by the rebels, and every store and many of the houses were stripped of every article of value.

A gentleman named Ramsay invited the General and myself to stop at his house; we accepted the invitation and were treated with great hospitality. Our host was one of the leading Union men of the county, and we have since learned that it was in a great measure owing to him that the neighborhood had been kept so loyal. The county voted against secession by a very large majority. We left Shelbyville about eleven o'clock the next morning. Our ride that day was through a much wilder country than we had passed through on the day preceding; much of the road was nothing more than a cart-path through the woods, but this was very favorable for horseback riding, and we got along pretty fast. General Slocum came near meeting with a severe accident that afternoon. We were galloping along quite fast when his horse, a large, heavy animal, struck a bad place in the road and fell forward upon his knees; before he could be recovered he rolled over on his side, pinning the General's leg to the ground. We all sprang from our horses, and, after some little struggling on the part of the horse, the General was extricated from his dangerous position. We all thought his leg was broken, for he looked deadly pale, but he relieved our anxiety by saying that he was all right, and after lying down a few minutes, he mounted his other horse and we rode on again. Tullahoma was reached about six P. M., after a ride of twenty-three or four miles.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 156-8

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Friday, March 28, 1862

Camp Hayes, Raleigh, Virginia. — . . . Dr. Webb received an order from the medical director on General Rosecrans' staff to report for examination before a medical board at Wheeling. If he is singled out, it is an indignity and I do not blame him for resigning rather than submit. I have written to see what it means. I hope we are not to lose him.

Captain Sperry returned with thirteen prisoners and a few horses. Several of the prisoners wished to come in but feared to [do] so. The Rebels are vindictive in punishing all who yield. Abram Bragg and Wm. C. Richmond with other Union men never sleep at home; they hide up on the hills during the night. This they have done for two months past. . . .

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 219

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Monday, November 9, 1863

Another odd link of the old, stale story has come to me, all the way from New York. A friend of mine, who went on the same boat with the prisoners, wrote to her mother to tell her that she had formed the acquaintance of the most charming, fascinating gentleman among them, no other than my once friend. Of course, she would have been less than a woman if she had not gossiped when she discovered who he was. So she sends me word that he told her he had been made to believe, as long as he was on parole in New Orleans, that we were all Unionists now, and that Brother would not allow a Confederate to enter the house. (O my little lisper, was I unjust to you?) He told her that I had been very kind to him when he was in prison, and he would have forgotten the rest and gladly have called to thank me in person for the kindness he so gratefully remembered, if I alone had been concerned; but he felt he could not force himself unasked into my

brother's house. . . .

She told him how false it was.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 421-2

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: April 6, 1865

Mr. Lincoln has visited our devoted city to-day. His reception was any thing but complimentary. Our people were in nothing rude or disrespectful; they only kept themselves away from a scene so painful. There are very few Unionists of the least respectability here; these met them (he was attended by Stanton and others) with cringing loyalty, I hear, but the rest of the small collection were of the low, lower, lowest of creation. They drove through several streets, but the greeting was so feeble from the motley crew of vulgar men and women, that the Federal officers themselves, I suppose, were ashamed of it, for they very soon escaped from the disgraceful association. It is said that they took a collation at General Ord's — our President's house!! Ah! it is a bitter pill. I would that dear old house, with all its associations, so sacred to the Southerners, so sweet to us as a family, had shared in the general conflagration. Then its history would have been unsullied, though sad. Oh, how gladly would I have seen it burn! I have been nowhere since Monday, except to see my dear old friend Mrs. R., and to the hospital. There I am not much subjected to the harrowing sights and sounds by which we are surrounded. The wounded must be nursed; poor fellows, they are so sorrowful! Our poor old Irishman died on Sunday. The son of a very old acquaintance was brought to our hospital a few days ago, most severely wounded — Colonel Charles Richardson, of the artillery. We feared at first that he must die, but now there is a little more hope. It is so sad that after four years of bravery and devotion to the cause, he should be brought to his native city, for the defence of which he would have gladly given his life, dangerously if not mortally wounded, when its sad fate is just decided. I love to sit by his bedside and try to cheer him; his friends seem to vie with each other in kind attentions to him.

We hear rumours of battles, and of victories gained by our troops, but we have no certain information beyond the city lines.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 350-1

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Friday Evening, September 25, 1863

I have learned more. He has not yet left; part of the mystery is unraveled, only I have neither patience nor desire to seek for more. These women —! Hush! to slander is too much like them; be yourself.

My sweet little lisper informed a select circle of friends the other night, when questioned, that the individual had not called on me, and, what was more, would not do so. “Pray, how do you happen to be so intimately acquainted with the affairs of two who are strangers to you?” asked a lady present. She declined saying how she had obtained her information, only asserting that it was so. “In fact, you cannot expect any Confederate gentleman to call at the house of Judge Morgan, a professed Unionist,” she continued. So that is the story she told to keep him from seeing me. She has told him that we had turned Yankees! All her arts would not grieve me as much as one word against Brother. My wrongs I can forget; but one word of contempt for Brother I never forgive! White with passion I said to my in formant, “Will you inform the young lady that her visit will never be returned, that she is requested not to repeat hers, and that I decline knowing any one who dares cast the slightest reflection on the name of one who has been both father and brother to me!” This evening I was at a house where she was announced. Miriam and I bade our hostess good-evening and left without speaking to her. Anybody but Brother! No one shall utter his name before me save with respect and regard.

This young woman's father is a Captain in the Yankee navy, and her brother is a Captain in the Yankee army, while three other brothers are in the Confederate. Like herself, I have three brothers fighting for the South; unlike her, the only brother who avows himself a Unionist has too much regard for his family to take up arms against his own flesh and blood.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 416-7

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Friday, June 26, 1863

O praise the Lord, O my soul! Here is good news enough to make me happy for a month! Brother is so good about that! Every time he hears good news on our side, he tells it just as though it was on his side, instead of on ours; while all bad news for us he carefully avoids mentioning, unless we question him. So to-day he brought in a budget for us.

Lee has crossed the Potomac on his way to Washington with one hundred and sixty thousand men. Gibbes and George are with him. Magruder is marching on Fort Jackson, to attack it in the rear. One or two of our English ironclads are reported at the mouth of the river, and Farragut has gone down to capture them. O Jimmy! Jimmy! suppose he should be on one of them? We don't know the name of his ship, and it makes us so anxious for him, during these months that we have heard nothing of his whereabouts.

It is so delightful to see these frightened Yankees! One has only to walk downtown to be satisfied of the alarm that reigns. Yesterday came the tidings of the capture of Brashere City by our troops, and that a brigade was fifteen miles above here, coming down to the city. Men congregated at corners whispering cautiously. These were evidently Confederates who had taken the oath. Solitary Yankees straggled along with the most lugubrious faces, troubling no one. We walked down to Blineau's with Mrs. Price, and over our ice-cream she introduced her husband, who is a true blue Union man, though she, like ourselves, is a rank Rebel. Mr. Price, on the eve of making an immense fortune, was perfectly disconsolate at the news. Every one was to be ruined; starvation would follow if the Confederates entered; there was never a more dismal, unhappy creature. Enchanted at the news, I naturally asked if it were reliable. “Perfectly! Why, to prove how true, standing at the door of this salon five minutes ago, I saw two young ladies pass with Confederate flags, which they flirted in the face of some Federal officers, unrebuked!” Verily, thought I, something is about to happen! Two days ago the girls who were “unrebuked” this evening would have found themselves in jail instead.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 393-4

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Friday Night, January 23, 1863

I am particularly happy to-day, for we have just heard from Brother for the first time since last July. And he is well, and happy, and wants us to come to him in New Orleans so he can take care of us, and no longer be so anxious for our safety. If we only could! —To be sure the letter is from a gentleman who is just out of the city, who says he writes at Brother's earnest request; still it is something to hear, even indirectly. One hundred and fifty dollars he encloses with the request that mother will draw for any amount she wishes. Dear Brother, money is the least thing we need; first of all, we are dying for want of a home. If we could only see ours once more!

During this time we have heard incidentally of Brother; of his having taken the oath of allegiance — which I am confident he did not do until Butler's October decree — of his being a prominent Union man, of his being a candidate for the Federal Congress, and of his withdrawal; and finally of his having gone to New York and Washington, from which places he only returned a few weeks since. That is all we ever heard. A very few people have been insolent enough to say to me, “Your brother is as good a Yankee as any.” My blood boils as I answer, “Let him be President Lincoln if he will, and I would love him the same.” And so I would. Politics cannot come between me and my father's son. What he thinks right, is right, for him, though not for me. If he is for the Union, it is because he believes it to be in the right, and I honor him for acting from conviction, rather than from dread of public opinion. If he were to take up the sword against us to-morrow, Miriam and I, at least, would say, “If he thinks it his duty, he is right; we will not forget he is our father's child.” And we will not. From that sad day when the sun was setting for the first time on our father's grave, when the great, strong man sobbed in agony at the thought of what we had lost, and taking us both on his lap put his arms around us and said, “Dear little sisters, don't cry; I will be father and brother, too, now,” he has been both. He respects our opinions, we shall respect his. I confess myself a rebel, body and soul. Confess? I glory in it! Am proud of being one; would not forego the title for any other earthly one!

Though none could regret the dismemberment of our old Union more than I did at the time, though I acknowledge that there never was a more unnecessary war than this in the beginning, yet once in earnest, from the secession of Louisiana I date my change of sentiment. I have never since then looked back; forward, forward! is the cry; and as the Federal States sink each day in more appalling folly and disgrace, I grow prouder still of my own country and rejoice that we can no longer be confounded with a nation which shows so little fortitude in calamity, so little magnanimity in its hour of triumph. Yes! I am glad we are two distinct tribes! I am proud of my country; only wish I could fight in the ranks with our brave soldiers, to prove my enthusiasm; would think death, mutilation, glorious in such a cause; cry, “War to all eternity before we submit.” But if I can't fight, being unfortunately a woman, which I now regret for the first time in my life, at least I can help in other ways. What fingers can do in knitting and sewing for them, I have done with the most intense delight; what words of encouragement and praise could accomplish, I have tried on more than one bold soldier boy, and not altogether in vain; I have lost my home and all its dear contents for our Southern Rights, have stood on its deserted hearthstone and looked at the ruin of all I loved — without a murmur, almost glad of the sacrifice if it would contribute its mite towards the salvation of the Confederacy. And so it did, indirectly; for the battle of Baton Rouge which made the Yankees, drunk with rage, commit outrages in our homes that civilized Indians would blush to perpetrate, forced them to abandon the town as untenable, whereby we were enabled to fortify Port Hudson here, which now defies their strength. True they have reoccupied our town; that Yankees live in our house; but if our generals said burn the whole concern, would I not put the torch to our home readily, though I love its bare skeleton still? In deed I would, though I know what it is to be without one. Don't Lilly and mother live in a wretched cabin in vile Clinton while strangers rest under our father's roof? Yankees, I owe you one for that!

Well! I boast myself Rebel, sing “Dixie,” shout Southern Rights, pray for God's blessing on our cause, without ceasing, and would not live in this country if by any possible calamity we should be conquered; I am only a woman, and that is the way I feel. Brother may differ. What then? Shall I respect, love him less? No! God bless him! Union or Secession, he is always my dear, dear Brother, and tortures could not make me change my opinion.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 316-9

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 Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Friday, April 10, 1863

We roused up at daylight, and soon afterwards Colonel Duff paraded some of his best men, to show off the Texan horsemanship, of which they are very proud. I saw them lasso cattle, and catch them by the tail at full gallop, and throw them by slewing them round. This is called tailing. They pick small objects off the ground when at full tilt, and, in their peculiar fashion, are beautiful riders; but they confessed to me they could not ride in an English saddle, and Colonel Duff told me that they could not jump a fence at all. They were all extremely anxious to hear what I thought of the performance, and their thorough good opinion of themselves was most amusing.

At 9 o'clock Colonel Buchel and I rode back to Brownsville; but as we lost our way twice, and were enveloped in clouds of dust, it was not a very satisfactory ride. Poor Captain Hancock must be luxuriating at Bagdad; for with this wind the bar must be impassable to the boldest mariner.

In the evening, a Mr –––, a  Texan Unionist, or renegado, gave us his sentiments at the Consulate, and drank a deal of brandy. He finished, however, by the toast, “Them as wants to fight, let 'em fight — I don't.”

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three months in the southern states: April-June, 1863, p. 20-1

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Thursday, April 9, 1863

Captain Hancock and Mr Anderson left for Bagdad in Mr Behnsen's carriage at noon.

I crossed over to Brownsville at 11.30, and dined with Colonels Luckett, Buchel, and Duff, at about one o'clock. As we were all colonels, and as every one called the other colonel tout court, it was difficult to make out which was meant. They were obliged to confess that Brownsville was about the rowdiest town of Texas, which was the most lawless state in the Confederacy; but they declared they had never seen an inoffensive man subjected to insult or annoyance, although the shooting-down and stringing-up systems are much in vogue, being almost a necessity in a thinly-populated state, much frequented by desperadoes driven away from more civilised countries.

Colonel Luckett gave me a letter to General Van Dorn, whom they consider the beau ideal of a cavalry soldier. They said from time immemorial the Yankees had been despised by the Southerners, as a race inferior to themselves in courage and in honourable sentiments.

At 3 P.M. Colonel Buchel and I rode to Colonel Duffs camp, distant about thirteen miles. I was given a Mexican saddle, in which one is forced to sit almost in a standing position. The stirrups are very long, and right underneath you, which throws back the feet.

Duff's regiment is called the Partisan Eangers. Although a fine lot of men, they don't look well at a foot parade, on account of the small amount of drill they have undergone, and the extreme disorder of their clothing. They are armed with carbines and six-shooters.

I saw some men come in from a scouting expedition against the Indians, 300 miles off. They told me they were usually in the habit of scalping an Indian when they caught him, and that they never spared one, as they were such an untamable and ferocious race. Another habit which they have learned from the Indians is, to squat on their heels in a most peculiar manner. It has an absurd and extraordinary effect to see a quantity of them so squatting in a row or in a circle.

The regiment had been employed in quelling a counter revolution of Unionists in Texas. Nothing could exceed the rancour with which they spoke of these renegadoes, as they called them, who were principally Germans.

.

When I suggested to some of the Texans that they might as well bury the body of Mongomery a little better, they did not at all agree with me, but said it ought not to have been buried at all, but left hanging as a warning to other evil-doers.

With regard to the contentment of their slaves, Colonel Duff pointed out a good number they had with them, who had only to cross the river for freedom if they wished it.

Colonel Buchel and I slept in Colonel Duffs tent, and at night we were serenaded. The officers and men really sang uncommonly well, and they finished with "God save the Queen!"

Colonel Duff comes from Perth. He was one of the leading characters in the secession of Texas; and he said his brother was a banker in Dunkeld.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three months in the southern states: April-June, 1863, p. 18-20

Diary of William Howard Russell: April 25, 1861

Sent off my letters by an English gentleman, who was taking despatches from Mr. Bunch to Lord Lyons, as the post-office is becoming a dangerous institution. We hear of letters being tampered with on both sides. Adams's Express Company, which acts as a sort of express post under certain conditions, is more trustworthy; but it is doubtful how long communications will be permitted to exist between the two hostile nations, as they may now be considered.

Dined with Mr. Petigru, who had most kindly postponed his dinner party till my return from the plantations, and met there General Beauregard, Judge King, and others, among whom, distinguished for their esprit and accomplishments, were Mrs. King and Mrs. Carson, daughters of my host. The dislike, which seems innate, to New England is universal, and varies only in the form of its expression. It is quite true Mr. Petigru is a decided Unionist, but he is the sole specimen of the genus in Charleston, and he is tolerated on account of his rarity. As the witty, pleasant old man trots down the street, utterly unconscious of the world around him, he is pointed out proudly by the Carolinians as an instance of forbearance on their part, and as a proof, at the same time, of popular unanimity of sentiment.

There are also people who regret the dissolution of the Union — such as Mr. Huger, who shed tears in talking of it the other night; but they regard the fact very much as they would the demolition of some article which never can be restored and reunited, which was valued for the uses it rendered and its antiquity.

General Beauregard is apprehensive of an attack by the Northern “fanatics” before the South is prepared, and he considers they will carry out coercive measures most rigorously. He dreads the cutting of the levees, or high artificial works, raised along the whole course of the Mississippi, for many hundreds of miles above New Orleans, which the Federals may resort to in order to drown the plantations and ruin the planters.

We had a good-humored argument in the evening about the ethics of burning the Norfolk navy yard. The Southerners consider the appropriation of the arms, moneys, and stores of the United States as rightful acts, inasmuch as they represent, according to them, their contribution, or a portion of it, to the national stock in trade. When a State goes out of the Union she should be permitted to carry her forts, armaments, arsenals, &c, along with her, and it was a burning shame for the Yankees to destroy the property of Virginia at Norfolk. These ideas, and many like them, have the merit of novelty to English people, who were accustomed to think there were such things as the Union and the people of the United States.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 136-7

Diary of Salmon P. Chase: Sunday, October 5, 1862

At home to favor foot. Much better in the afternoon, and rode over to Insane Asylum to see Hooker. Was glad to find him much improved. He said we had plenty of good officers, and that all the courage, ability and genius we needed could be found among our Volunteer Colonels. He then said that an aide of McClellan's had been down to see him with an inquiry as to how soon he would be able to take the field, and expressing his confidence with hints of important command of army moving from Washington. He expressed the belief that no decisive victory would be achieved so long as McClellan had command.

Before starting on this visit, John A. Stevens, Jr., called wishing me to see Col. Hamilton about Texas;¹ and I asked him to bring him to dinner. Accordingly both came. Secretary Stanton also, by accident, and Mr. Montgomery, by Katie's invitation. After dinner, Col. Hamilton spoke fully of Texas — described his escape and hiding in the woods — said that many hundred loyal Texans were now concealed in Texas as refugees — declared that the War was a war of the oligarchy upon the people — that Slavery was the basis of the oligarchy, but that the perpetuation of slavery was not more their object, than the despotic power of the class over the mass. I entered fully into his feelings; and promised to go with him to the President's tomorrow.

After he went, Gov. Morton came in and spoke very earnestly of the condition of matters in Indiana. Apprehends State defeat on the 14th, and loss of all the Congressional Districts except Julian's, Colfax's, and perhaps Shank's. Wants Indiana Regiments in the State furloughed so that they can vote. Thinks Buell utterly unfit for command of the great army under him — is slow, opposed to the Proclamation, and has bad influence every way. Wishes me to go with him to President's about the regiments, which I promised to do tomorrow.

______________

¹ Andrew Jackson Hamilton, 1815-1875. G. S. Denison gives an account of him in his letter of September 19, 1862, p. 314.

SOURCE: Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 100-1

Diary of Gideon Welles: Wednesday, October 1, 1862

Called this morning at the White House, but learned the President had left the city. The porter said he made no mention whither he was going, nor when he would return. I have no doubt he is on a visit to McClellan and the army. None of his Cabinet can have been aware of this journey.

Relieved Davis and appointed D. D. Porter to the Western Flotilla, which is hereafter to be recognized as a squadron. Porter is but a Commander. He has, however, stirring and positive qualities, is fertile in resources, has great energy, excessive and sometimes not over-scrupulous ambition, is impressed with and boastful of his own powers, given to exaggeration in relation to himself, — a Porter infirmity, — is not generous to older and superior living officers, whom he is too ready to traduce, but is kind and patronizing to favorites who are juniors, and generally to official inferiors. Is given to cliquism but is brave and daring like all his family. He has not the conscientious and high moral qualities of Foote to organize the flotilla, and is not considered by some of our best naval men a fortunate officer; has not in his profession, though he may have personally, what the sailors admire, “luck.” It is a question, with his mixture of good and bad traits, how he will succeed. His selection will be unsatisfactory to many, but his field of operation is peculiar, and a young and active officer is required for the duty to which he is assigned; it will be an incentive to juniors. If he does well I shall get no credit; if he fails I shall be blamed. No thanks in any event will be mine. Davis, whom he succeeds, is more of a scholar than sailor, has gentlemanly instincts and scholarly acquirements, is an intelligent but not an energetic, driving, fighting officer, such as is wanted for rough work on the Mississippi; is kind and affable, but has not the vim, dash, — recklessness perhaps is the better word, — of Porter.

Dahlgren, whose ambition is great, will, I suppose, be hurt that Porter, who is his junior, should be designated for the Mississippi command; and the President will sympathize with D., whom he regards with favor, while he has not great admiration or respect for Porter. Dahlgren has asked to be assigned to the special duty of capturing Charleston, but Du Pont has had that object in view for more than a year and made it his study. I cannot, though I appreciate Dahlgren, supersede the Admiral in this work.

The Emancipation Proclamation has, in its immediate effects, been less exciting than I had apprehended. It has caused but little jubilation on one hand, nor much angry outbreak on the other. The speculations as to the sentiments and opinions of the Cabinet in regard to this measure are ridiculously wild and strange. When it was first brought forward some six or eight weeks ago, all present assented to it. It was pretty fully discussed at two successive Cabinet-meetings, and the President consulted freely, I presume, with the members individually. He did with me. Mr. Bates desired that deportation, by force if necessary, should go with emancipation. Born and educated among the negroes, having always lived with slaves, he dreaded any step which should be taken to bring about social equality between the two races. The effect, he said, would be to degrade the whites without elevating the blacks. Demoralization, vice, and misery would follow. Mr. Blair, at the second discussion, said that, while he was an emancipationist from principle, he had doubts of the expediency of such a movement as was contemplated. Stanton, after expressing himself earnestly in favor of the step proposed, said it was so important a measure that he hoped every member would give his opinion, whatever it might be, on the subject; two had not spoken, —alluding to Chase and myself.

I then spoke briefly of the strong exercise of power involved in the question, and the denial of Executive authority to do this act, but the Rebels themselves had invoked war on the subject of slavery, had appealed to arms, and they must abide the consequences. It was an extreme exercise of war powers, and under the circumstances and in view of the condition of the country and the magnitude of the contest I was willing to resort to extreme measures and avail ourselves of military necessity, always harsh and questionable. The blow would fall heavy and severe on those loyal men in the Slave States who clung to the Union and had most of their property in slaves, but they must abide the results of a conflict which we all deplored, and unless they could persuade their fellow citizens to embrace the alternative presented, it was their hard fortune to suffer with those who brought on the War. The slaves were now an element of strength to the Rebels, — were laborers, producers, and army attendants; were considered as property by the Rebels, and, if property, were subject to confiscation; if not property, but persons residing in the insurrectionary region, we should invite them as well as the whites to unite with us in putting down the Rebellion. I had made known my views to the President and could say here I gave my approval of the Proclamation. Mr. Chase said it was going a step farther than he had proposed, but he was glad of it and went into a very full argument on the subject. I do not attempt to report it or any portion of it, nor that of others, farther than to define the position of each when this important question was before us. Something more than a Proclamation will be necessary, for this step will band the South together, make opponents of some who now are friends and unite the Border States firmly with the Cotton States in resistance to the Government.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 157-60

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

Saturday, March 7.

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

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

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

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

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

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B Hayes: Tuesday, January 14, 1862

My old veteran orderly, Gray, says it makes his flesh creep to see the way soldiers enter officers’ quarters, hats on, just as if they were in civil life! [The] Twenty-sixth Regiment left today. Three or four inches snow. Some winter!

Spent the afternoon looking over a trunk full of letters, deeds, documents, etc., belonging to General Alfred Beckley. They were buried in the graveyard near General Beckley's at Raleigh. Some letters of moment showing the early and earnest part taken by Colonel Tompkins in the Rebellion. The general Union and conservative feeling of General Beckley shown in letters carefully preserved in his letter-book. Two letters to Major Anderson, full of patriotism, love of Union and of the Stars and Stripes — replies written, one the day after Major Anderson went into Sumter, the other much later. His, General Beckley's, desire was really for the Union. He was of West Point education. Out of deference to popular sentiment he qualified his Unionism by saying, “Virginia would stay in the Union as long as she could consistently with honor.”

General Beckley's note from “J. C. Calhoun, Secretary of War,” informing him of his appointment as a cadet at West Point, and many other mementos, carefully preserved, were in the trunk. Title papers and evidence relating to a vast tract of land, formerly owned by Gideon Granger and now by Francis Granger and brother, were also in it. All except a few letters as to the Rebellion were undisturbed.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 187