Major-General Benjamin F. Butler to Edwin M. Stanton, May 16, 1862

HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF,      

New Orleans, May 16, 1862.

Hon. E. M. STANTON,

Secretary of War:

SIR: Since my dispatch of May 8* I received information that a large amount of specie was concealed in the liquor store of one Am Couturee, who claims to be consul for the Netherlands.†

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

The necessity having now passed which led me to allow the temporary use of Confederate notes, I have ordered them suppressed in ten days from to-day. Please see General Orders, No. 29, to that effect. I beg leave to call your attention to the subject of opening the port of New Orleans. No measure could tend more to change the entire feelings and relations of the people here than this. If not opened to foreign ships and ports, why not with the Northern ports? Have we not a right as against aliens to carry our own products from one part of our own country to the other?

Nothing has tended so much to the quiet acquiescence of the well-disposed people here to the rule of the United States as the opening, which I have done, of postal facilities North and with Europe, under proper restrictions. It was a measure which seemed to me so essential and so relieved the mercantile portion of the community that I have allowed it, and shall so do until further orders from the Department.

Upon the same ground I have the honor to urge the opening of the port of New Orleans at least to the limited extent above mentioned. As a question of the supply of food it is vital. A different state of things exists here from every other point taken before during the war, with the exception of Baltimore. Here is a community, large and wealthy, living and substantially quietly submitting to, if they all do not relish, our Government.

We need their products; they need ours. If we wish to bind them to us more strongly than can be done by the bayonet, let them again feel the beneficence of the United States Government as they have seen and are now feeling its power. Specially will this affect favorably the numerous and honestly conducting foreign residents residing here. How does this city now differ from Baltimore in June last, save that it is occupied by a smaller force and is more orderly? In the matter of trade, importation and exportation, I cannot distinguish the two.

It was found absolutely necessary to take some measures in addition to those taken by the city government to relieve the immediate sufferings of the poor people from hunger. I accordingly took the action set forth in General Orders, No. 25. Its effect has been to diminish much suffering and aid in bringing back the citizens to a sense of duty.

I forward also copies of General Orders, 27, 28, 29, which will explain themselves. No. 28 became an absolute necessity from the outrageous conduct of the secession women here, who took every means of insulting my soldiers and inflaming the mob.

Here I am happy to add that within the city of New Orleans the first instance of wrong or injury done by any soldier to any man or woman or any instance of plunder above a petty theft yet remains to be reported to me. There is an instance of gross outrage and plunder on the part of some of the Wisconsin regiment at Kenner, some 12 miles above here, while on the march to possess ourselves of the Jackson Railroad, who when they return will be most exemplarily punished. I must send home some of my transport ships in ballast by the terms of their charter. In accordance with the terms of my order No. 22 I have caused to be bought a very considerable quantity of sugar, but as yet very little cotton. This has gone very far to reassure the planters and factors. They are sending their agents everywhere into the interior to endeavor to stop the burning of the crops.

Nobody can be better aware than myself that I have no right to buy this property with the money of the United States, even if I had any of it, which I have not. But I have bought it with my own money and upon my individual credit. The articles are sugar, rosin, and turpentine. I have sent these as ballast in the several transport ships, which otherwise would have to be sent to Ship Island for sand. These articles will be worth more in New York and Boston than I paid for them here through my agents. If the Government choose to take them and reimburse me for them I am content. If not, I am quite content to keep them and pay the Government a reasonable freight. Whatever may be done the Government will save by the transaction. I only desire that neither motives nor action shall be misunderstood.

I have sent General Williams, with two regiments and a light battery, to accompany the flag-officer up the river to occupy or land and aid in taking any point where resistance may be offered. Baton Rouge has already surrendered and the flag is raised over it. The machines from the Arsenal for making arms are removed to a distance, but where they cannot be at present used. The naval forces with General Williams have gone above Natchez, and the gunboats are proceeding to Vicksburg, which the rebels are endeavoring to fortify, but I do not believe, from all I learn, with any success. The flag-officer is aground just below Natchez in the Hartford, and I have dispatched two boats to light him off.

I should have sent more troops with General Williams, but it was impossible to get transportation for them. The rebels had burned and disabled every boat that they did not hide, and then their machinists refused to work on their repair.

By dint of the most urgent measures I have compelled repairs, so that I am now getting some transportation, and have sent a boat to Fort Pickens for General Arnold, of which I understand him to be in the utmost need. I have sent into the various bayous and have succeeded in digging out of the bushes several steamers; one or two very good ones.

Colonel McMillan, of the Twenty-first Indiana Regiment, on Monday last, in a little creek leading out of Berwick Bay, some 80 miles from here, succeeded with an ox-cart in cutting out the rebel steamer Fox, loaded with 15 tons of powder and a large quantity of quicksilver, medicines, and stores. The steamer was formerly the G. W. Whitman, of New York, and has succeeded in running the blockade four times.

Colonel McMillan is now engaged in scouring the bayous and lagoons through which the rebels have been supplied with ammunition, causing large quantities to be destroyed and capturing some where the pursuit is quick enough. In no other way can the same amount of distress be brought upon the rebel army, as they are much in want of ammunition, and we are intercepting all supplies. A very large amount of ordnance and ordnance stores have been captured here and are now being cared for and inventoried.

Large numbers of Union men—Americans, Germans, and French—have desired to enlist in our service. I have directed the regiments to fill themselves up with these recruits. I can enlist a regiment or more here, if the Department think it desirable, of true and loyal men. I do not think, however, that Governor Moore would commission the officers. Such a corps being desirable, would it not be possible to have an independent organization, with commissions from the President. These troops would be very useful in manning the forts at Pontchartrain and down the river, which are fearfully unhealthy. They might have a company or two of Northern soldiers for instructors and for fear of possible accident.

I shall have the transportation ready for a movement on Mobile as soon as the flag-officer returns from up the river. I am engaged in arranging for it. I will get the transportation, so as to go across the lake by the inside route.

I have endeavored in several ways to get communication with General Buell, so as to co-operate with him, but as yet have failed. Although I am not by the terms of my instructions enjoined to penetrate the interior, yet I shall do so at once, if the public service can be aided.

General Lovell, when he retreated from this city, took with him to Camp Moore between 8,000 and 9,000 men. He is 80 miles away, and such is the height of the water that it is nearly impossible to march, he having gone on the railroad and taken all his rolling stock with him. More than one-half of that army has left him, and perhaps one-third has returned to this city, put on citizens' clothes, and are quiet. I think General Lovell is doing as well as he can for the present. A defeat could hardly disorganize his forces more rapidly.

I trust my requisitions will be promptly forwarded, especially for food and mosquito-nets, which are a prime necessity.

The city council have endeavored to excite the French population here and to act by resolution upon the arrival of the French war steamer Catina as to induce the belief that there was some understanding between themselves and the French Government.

I append copy of letter to the council upon that subject, marked L; also copy of letter to the French consul as to spoliations at Kenner, marked M.

I have the honor to be, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

BENJ. F. BUTLER,              

Major-General, Commanding.

_______________

* Series 1, Vol. VI, p. 506.

† For portion of the letter here omitted and which relates to seizures of the specie referred to and complications with other consuls, see inclosures to letter from the Secretary of state to Hon. Reverdy Johnson, June 10, 1862, Series III, Vol. 2.

_______________

[Inclosures.]

Major-General Benjamin F. Butler: General Orders, No. 25, May 9, 1862

Major-General Benjamin F. Butler: General Orders, No. 27, May 13, 1862

Major-General Benjamin F. Butler: General Orders, No. 28, May 15, 1862

Major-General Benjamin F. Butler: General Orders, No. 29, May 16, 1862

[Inclosure L.]

Major-General Benjamin F. Butler to the Mayor and Gentlemen of the City Council of New Orleans, May 16, 1862

[Inclosure M.]

Major-General Benjamin F. Butler to Count Mejan, May 16, 1862

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 15 (Serial No. 21), p. 422-4. For inclosures see p. 425-7.

Major-General Benjamin F. Butler to Edwin M. Stanton, April 29, 1862

HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF,                  

Forts Jackson and Saint Philip, April 29, 1862.

SIR: I have the honor to report that in obedience to my instructions I remained on the Mississippi River, with the troops named in my former dispatch, awaiting the action of the fleet engaged in the bombardment of Forts Jackson and Saint Philip. Failing to reduce them after six days of incessant fire, Flag-Officer Farragut determined to attempt their passage with his whole fleet, except that part thereof under the immediate command of Captain Porter, known as the Mortar Fleet.

On the morning of the 24th instant the fleet got under way, and twelve vessels, including the four sloops of war, ran the gauntlet of fire of the forts and were safely above. Of the gallantry, courage, and conduct of this heroic action, unprecedented in naval warfare, considering the character of the works and the river, too much cannot be said. Of its casualties and the details of its performance the flag-officer will give an account to the proper Department. I witnessed this daring exploit from a point about 800 yards from Fort Jackson and unwittingly under its fire, and the sublimity of the scene can never be exceeded. The fleet pressed on up the river to New Orleans, leaving two gunboats to protect the quarantine station, 5 miles above.

In case the forts were not reduced, and a portion of the fleet got by them, it had been arranged between the flag-officer and myself that I should make a landing from the Gulf side on the rear of the forts at the quarantine, and from thence attempt Fort Saint Philip by storm and assault, while the bombardment was continued by the fleet. I immediately went to Sable Island with my transports, 12 miles in the rear of Saint Philip, the nearest point at which a sufficient depth of water could be found for them.

Captain Porter put at my disposal the Miami, drawing 7½ feet, being the lightest-draught vessel in the fleet, to take the troops from the ship, as far as the water would allow. We were delayed twenty-four hours by her running ashore at Pass à l'Outre. The Twenty-sixth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers, Colonel Jones, were then put on board her and carried within 6 miles of the fort, where she again grounded. Captain Everett, of the Sixth Massachusetts Battery, having very fully reconnoitered the waters and bayous in that vicinity, and foreseeing the necessity, I had collected and brought with me some 30 boats, into which the troops were again transshipped and conveyed, by a most fatiguing and laborious row, some 4½ miles farther, there being within 1 mile of the steamer only 2½ feet of water. A large portion of this passage was against a heavy current, through a bayou. At the entrance of Manuel's Canal, a mile and a half from the point of landing, rowing became impossible, as well from the narrowness of the canal as the strength of the current, which ran like a mill-race. Through this the boats could only be impelled by dragging them singly, with the men up to their waists in water. It is due to this fine regiment and to a portion of the Fourth Wisconsin Volunteers and Twenty-first Indiana, who landed under this hardship without a murmur, that their labors should be made known to the Department, as well as to account for the slowness of our operations. The enemy evidently considered this mode of attack impossible, as they had taken no measures to oppose it, which might very easily have been successfully done. We occupied at once both sides of the river, thus effectually cutting them off from all supplies, information, or succor while we made our dispositions for the assault.

Meantime Captain Porter had sent into the bayou in the rear of Fort Jackson two schooners of his mortar fleet to prevent the escape of the enemy from the fort in that direction. In the hurry and darkness of the passage of the forts the flag-officer had overlooked three of the enemy's gunboats and the iron-clad battery Louisiana, which were at anchor under the walls of the fort. Supposing that all the rebel boats had been destroyed (and a dozen or more had been) he passed on to the city, leaving these in his rear. The iron steam battery being very formidable, Captain Porter deemed it prudent to withdraw his mortar fleet some miles below, where he could have room to maneuver it if attacked by the iron monster, and the bombardment ceased.

I had got Brigadier-General Phelps in the river below with two regiments to make demonstrations in that direction if it became possible. In the night of the 27th, learning that the fleet had got the city under its guns, I left Brigadier General Williams in charge of the landing of the troops and went up the river to the flagship to procure light-draught transportation. That night the larger portion (about 250) of the garrison of Fort Jackson mutinied, spiked the guns bearing up the river, came up and surrendered themselves to my pickets, declaring that as we had got in their rear resistance was useless, and they would not be sacrificed. No bomb had been thrown at them for three days nor had they fired a shot at us from either fort. They averred that they had been impressed and would fight no longer.*

On the 28th the officers of Forts Jackson and Saint Philip surrendered to Captain Porter, he having means of water transportation to them. While he was negotiating, however, with the officers of the forts under a white flag the rebel naval officers put all their munitions of war on the Louisiana, set her on fire and adrift upon the Harriet Lane, but when opposite Fort Saint Philip she blew up, killing one of their own men by the fragments which fell into that fort.

I have taken possession of the forts, and find them substantially as defensible as before the bombardment—Saint Philip precisely so, it being quite uninjured. They are fully provisioned, well supplied with ammunition, and the ravages of the shells have been defensibly repaired by the labors of the rebels. I will cause Lieutenant Weitzel, of the Engineers, to make a detailed report of their condition to the Department I have left the Twenty-sixth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers in garrison, and am now going up the river to occupy the city with my troops and make further demonstrations in the rear of the enemy, now at Corinth.

The rebels have abandoned all their defensive works in and around New Orleans, including Forts Pike and Wood, on Lake Pontchartrain, and Fort Livingston from Barataria Bay. They have retired in the direction of Corinth, beyond Manchac Pass, and abandoned everything up the river as far as Donaldsonville, some 70 miles beyond New Orleans. I propose to so far depart from the letter of my instructions as to endeavor to persuade the flag-officer to pass up the river as far as the mouth of Red River, if possible, so as to cut off their supplies, and make there a landing and a demonstration in their rear as a diversion in favor of General Buell if a decisive battle is not fought before such movement is possible.

Mobile is ours whenever we choose, and we can better wait.

I find the city under the dominion of the mob. They have insulted our flag—torn it down with indignity. This outrage will be punished in such manner as in my judgment will caution both the perpetrators and abettors of the act, so that they shall fear the stripes if they do not reverence the stars of our banner.

I send a marked copy of a New Orleans paper, containing an applauding account of the outrage.†

Trusting my action may meet the approbation of the Department, I am; most respectfully, your obedient servant,

BENJ. F. BUTLER,              

Major-General, Commanding.

Hon. E. M. STANTON,

Secretary of War.

_______________

* See Butler to Stanton, June 1, 1862 in Chapter XXVII.

† Not found.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 6 (Serial No. 6), p. 503-6

Diary of Sarah Morgan: August 25, 1862 – about 12 at night.

Sleep is impossible after all that I have heard, so, after vainly endeavoring to follow the example of the rest, and sleep like a Stoic, I have lighted my candle and take to this to induce drowsiness.

Just after supper, when Anna and I were sitting with Mrs. Carter in her room, I talking as usual of home, and saying I would be perfectly happy if mother would decide to remain in Baton Rouge and brave the occasional shellings, I heard a well-known voice take up some sentence of mine from a dark part of the room, and with a cry of surprise, I was hugging Miriam until she was breathless. Such a forlorn creature! — so dirty, tired, and fatigued, as to be hardly recognizable. We thrust her into a chair, and made her speak. She had just come with Charlie, who went after them yesterday; and had left mother and the servants at a kind friend's, on crying, “Where are those damned Secesh women? We know they are hid in here, and we'll make them dance for hiding from Federal officers!” And they could not be convinced that we were not there, until they had searched the very garret. Wonder what they would have done? Charles caught a Captain Clark in the streets, when the work was almost over, and begged him to put an end to it. The gentleman went readily, but though the devastation was quite evident, no one was to be seen, and he was about to leave, when, insisting that there was some one there, Charles drew him into my room, dived under the bed, and drew from thence a Yankee captain, by one leg, followed by a lieutenant, each with a bundle of the boys' clothes, which they instantly dropped, protesting they were only looking around the house. The gentleman captain carried them off to their superior.

Ours was the most shockingly treated house in the whole town. We have the misfortune to be equally feared by both sides, because we will blackguard neither. So the Yankees selected the only house in town that sheltered three forlorn women, to wreak their vengeance on. From far and near, strangers and friends flocked in to see the ravages committed. Crowds rushed in before, crowds came in after, Miriam and mother arrived, all apologizing for the intrusion, but saying they had heard it was a sight never before seen. So they let them examine to their hearts' content; and Miriam says the sympathy of all was extraordinary. A strange gentleman picked up a piece of mother's mirror, which was as thick as his finger, saying, “Madame, I should like to keep this as a memento. I am about to travel through Mississippi, and having seen what a splendid piece of furniture this was, and the state your house is left in, should like to show this as a specimen of Yankee vandalism.”

William Waller flew to our home to try to save it; but was too late. They say he burst into tears as he looked around. While on his kind errand, another band of Yankees burst into his house and left not one article of clothing to him, except the suit he had on. The whole talk is about our dreadful treatment at the Yankees' hands. Dr. Day, and Dr. Enders, in spite of the assertions of the former, lost nothing.

Well! I am beggared! Strange to say, I don't feel it. Perhaps it is the satisfaction of knowing my fate that makes me so cheerful that Mrs. Carter envied my stoicism, while Mrs. Badger felt like beating me because I did not agree that there was no such thing as a gentleman in the Yankee army. I know Major Drum for one, and that Captain Clark must be two, and Mr. Biddle is three, and General Williams — God bless him, wherever he is! for he certainly acted like a Christian. The Yankees boasted loudly that if it had not been for him, the work would have been done long ago.

And now, I am determined to see my home, before Yankee shells complete the work that Yankee axes spared. So by sunrise, I shall post over to Mr. Elder's, and insist on Charlie taking me to town with him. I hardly think it is many hours off. I feel so settled, so calm! Just as though I never meant to sleep again. If I only had a desk, — a luxury I have not enjoyed since I left home, — I could write for hours still, without being sleepy; but this curved attitude is hard on my stiff back, so good-night, while I lie down to gain strength for a sight they say will make me faint with distress. Nous verrons! If I say I Won't, I know I'll not cry. The Brunots lost nothing at all from their house, thank Heaven for the mercy! Only they lost all their money in their flight. On the door, on their return, they found written, “Ladies, I have done my best for you,” signed by a Yankee soldier, who they suppose to be the one who has made it a habit of continually passing their house.

Forgot to say Miriam recovered my guitar from the Asylum, our large trunk and father's papers (untouched) from Dr. Enders's, and with her piano, the two portraits, a few mattresses (all that is left of housekeeping affairs), and father's law books, carried them out of town. For which I say in all humility, Blessed be God who has spared us so much.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 190-6

Diary of Sarah Morgan: August 11, 1862

At Randallson's Landing, August 11th.

I don't mean those ladies were, but that I am at present. I’ll account for it after I have disposed of the stampede. Imagine no interruption, and continue — in the carriage urging Uncle Will to hurry on, and I had hardly time to thrust my sack under their feet before they were off. Lilly and Miss Walters were already in the buggy, leaving Ginnie and me to follow on horseback. I ran up after my riding-skirt, which I was surprised to find behind a trunk, and rolled up in it was my running-bag, with all my treasures! I was very much provoked at my carelessness; indeed, I cannot imagine how it got there, for it was the first thing I thought of. When I got back, there was no one to be seen except Ginnie and two negroes who held our horses, and who disappeared the instant we were mounted; with the exception of two women who were running to the woods, we were the only ones on the lot, until Mr. Watson galloped up to urge us on. Again I had to notice this peculiarity about women — that the married ones are invariably the first to fly, in time of danger, and always leave the young ones to take care of themselves. Here were our three matrons, prophesying that the house would be burnt, the Yankees upon us, and all murdered in ten minutes, flying down the Guerrilla Lane, and leaving us to encounter the horrors they foretold, alone.

It was a splendid gallop in the bright moonlight, over the fields, only it was made uncomfortable by the jerking of my running-bag, until I happily thought of turning it before. A hard ride of four miles in about twenty minutes brought us to the house of the man who so kindly offered his hospitality. It was a little hut, about as large as our parlor, and already crowded to overflowing, as he was entertaining three families from Baton Rouge. Can't imagine where he put them, either. But it seems to me the poorer the man, and the smaller the house, the greater the hospitality you meet with. There were so many of us that there was not room on the balcony to turn. The man wanted to prepare supper, but we declined, as Phillie had sent back for ours which we had missed. I saw another instance of the pleasure the vulgar take in the horrible. A Mr. Hill, speaking of Dr. Nolan, told Phillie “he had no doubt he had been sent to New Orleans on the Whiteman, that carried General Williams's body; and that every soul had gone down on her.” Fortunately, just then the overseer brought a letter from him saying he had gone on another boat, or the man's relish of the distressing might have been gratified.

It was so crowded there that we soon suggested going a short distance beyond, to Mr. Lobdell's, and staying there for the night, as all strenuously objected to our returning home, as there was danger from prowling Yankees. So we mounted again, and after a short ride we reached the house, where all were evidently asleep. But necessity knows no rules; and the driver soon aroused an old gentleman who came out and invited us in. A middle-aged lady met us, and made us perfectly at home by leaving us to take care of ourselves; most people would have thought it indifference; but I knew it was manque de savoir faire, merely, and preferred doing as I pleased. If she had been officious, I would have been embarrassed. So we walked in the moonlight, Ginnie and I, while the rest sat in the shade, and all discussed the fun of the evening, those who had been most alarmed laughing loudest. The old gentleman insisted that we girls had been the cause of it all; that our white bodies (I wore a Russian shirt) and black skirts could easily have caused us to be mistaken for men. That, at all events, three or four people on horseback would be a sufficient pretext for firing a shell or two. “In short, young ladies,” he said, “there is no doubt in my mind that you were mistaken for guerrillas, and that they only wanted to give you time to reach the woods where they heard they have a camp, before shooting at you. In short, take my advice and never mount a horse again when there is a Yankee in sight.” We were highly gratified at being mistaken for them, and pretended to believe it was true. I hardly think he was right, though; it is too preposterous.

Pourtant, Sunday morning the Yankees told a negro they did not mean to touch the house, but were shooting at some guerrillas at a camp just beyond. We know the last guerrilla left the parish five days ago.

Our host insisted on giving us supper, though Phillie represented that ours was on the road; and by eleven o'clock, tired alike of moonlight and fasting, we gladly accepted, and rapidly made the preserves and batter-cakes fly. Ours was a garret room, well finished, abounding in odd closets and corners, with curious dormer windows that were reached by long little corridors. I should have slept well; but I lay awake all night. Mother and I occupied a narrow single bed, with a bar of the thickest, heaviest material imaginable. Suffocation awaited me inside, gnats and mosquitoes outside. In order to be strictly impartial, I lay awake to divide my time equally between the two attractions, and think I succeeded pretty well. So I spent the night on the extreme edge of the bed, never turning over, but fanning mother constantly. I was not sorry when daybreak appeared, but dressed and ascended the observatory to get a breath of air.

Below me, I beheld four wagons loaded with the young Mrs. Lobdell's baggage. The Yankees had visited them in the evening, swept off everything they could lay their hands on, and with a sick child she was obliged to leave her house in the night and fly to her father-in-law. I wondered at their allowing her four wagons of trunks and bundles; it was very kind. If I were a Federal, I think it would kill me to hear the whisper of “Hide the silver” wherever I came. Their having frequently relieved families of such trifles, along with negroes, teams, etc., has put others on their guard now. As I sat in the parlor in the early morning, Mrs. Walters en blouse volante and all échevelée, came in to tell me of Mr. Lobdell's misfortunes. “They took his negroes [right hand up]; his teams [left hand up]; his preserves [both hands clutching her hair]; they swept off everything, except four old women who could not walk! they told him if he didn't come report himself, they'd come fetch him in three days! They beggared him!” [Both eyes rolling like a ship in a storm.] I could not help laughing. Mr. Bird sat on the gallery, and had been served in the same way, with the addition of a pair of handcuffs for a little while. It was not a laughing matter; but the old lady made it comical by her gestures.

When we suggested returning, there was another difficulty. All said it was madness; that the Yankees would sack the house and burn it over our heads; we would be insulted, etc. I said no one yet had ever said an impudent thing to me, and Yankees certainly would not attempt it; but the old gentleman told me I did not know what I was talking about; so I hushed, but determined to return. Ginnie and I sat an hour on horseback waiting for the others to settle what they would do; and after having half-roasted ourselves in the sun, they finally agreed to go, too, and we set off in a gallop which we never broke until we reached the house, which to our great delight we found standing, and not infested with Yankees.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 165-70

Diary of Sarah Morgan: August 9, 1862

To our great surprise, Charlie came in this morning from the other side. He was in the battle, and General Carter, and dozens of others that we did not think of. See the mountain reduced to a mole-hill! He says, though the fight was desperate, we lost only eighty-five killed, and less than a hundred and fifty wounded! And we had only twenty-five hundred against the Yankees' four thousand five hundred. There is no truth in our having held the Garrison even for a moment, though we drove them down to the river in a panic. The majority ran like fine fellows, but a Maine regiment fought like devils. He says Will and Thompson Bird set fire to the Yankee camp with the greatest alacrity, as though it were rare fun. General Williams was killed as he passed Piper's, by a shot from a window, supposed to have been fired by a citizen. Some one from town told him that the Federals were breaking in the houses, destroying the furniture, and tearing the clothes of the women and children in shreds, like maniacs. O my home! I wonder if they have entered ours? What a jolly time they would have over all the letters I left in my desk! Butler has ordered them to burn Baton Rouge if forced to evacuate it. Looks as though he was not so sure of holding it.

Miss Turner told Miriam that her mother attempted to enter town after the fight to save some things, when the gallant Colonel Dudley put a pistol to her head, called her an old she-devil, and told her he would blow her d----- brains out if she moved a step; that anyhow, none but we d----- women had put the men up to fighting, and we were the ones who were to blame for the fuss. There is no name he did not call us.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 159-60

Diary of Sarah Morgan: August 6, 1862

We six madcaps got in the carriage and buggy, and rode off in search of news. We took a quantity of old linen rags along, and during the whole drive, our fingers were busy making lint. Once we stopped at a neighbor's to gather the news, but that did not interfere with our labors at all. Four miles from here we met a crowd of women flying, and among them recognized Mrs. La Noue and Noemie. A good deal of loud shouting brought them to the carriage in great surprise to see us there. They were running from the plantation where they had taken refuge, as it was not safe from the shells, as the gunboats had proved to them. The reports we had heard in the morning were from shots fired on this side of the river by them, in hopes of hurting a guerrilla or two. Noemie told us that two Western regiments had laid down their arms, and General Williams had been killed by his own men. She looked so delighted, and yet it made me sick to think of his having been butchered so. Phillie leaned out, and asked her, as she asked everybody, if she knew anything about her father. Noemie, in her rapture over that poor man's death, exclaimed, “Don't know a word about him! know Williams was cut to pieces, though!” — and that is all we could learn from her. We went on until we came insight of Baton Rouge. There it stood, looking so beautiful against the black, lowering sky that I could not but regret its fate. We could see the Garrison, State House, Asylum, and all that; but the object of the greatest interest to me was the steeple of the Methodist church, for to the right of it lay home. While looking at it, a negro passed who was riding up and down the coast collecting lint, so I gave him all we had made, and commenced some more. Presently, we met Mr. Phillips, to whom Phillie put the same question. “He is on the Laurel Hill a prisoner — Confound that negro! where did he go?” And so on, each answer as far as concerned her, seeming a labor, but the part relating to the servant very hearty. Poor Phillie complained that everybody was selfish — thought only of their own affairs, and did not sympathize with her. “Yes, my dear,” I silently assented; for it was very true; every one seemed to think of their own interests alone. It was late before we got home, and then we had great fun in watching shells which we could dimly trace against the clouds, falling in what must have been the Garrison. Then came a tremendous fire, above, which may have been a boat — I don't know.

I hear a tremendous firing again, and from the two volumes of smoke, should judge it was the Arkansas and the Essex trying their strength at a distance. We are going down to see what's the fun. It would be absurd to record all the rumors that have reached us, since we can rely on none. They say we fought up to nine last night, and occupied the Garrison for five minutes, when the shells forced us to abandon it. Also that four regiments laid down their arms, that the Federals were pursued by our men to the river, driven to the gunboats, and pushed off to prevent the Western men from coming aboard. An eye-witness, from this side, reports that General Williams, “they say,” was forcibly held before a cannon and blown to pieces. For the sake of humanity, I hope this is false.

Oh, what a sad day this is for our country! Mother disapproved so of our going to the levee to see the fight, that we consented to remain, though Miriam and Ginnie jumped into the buggy and went off alone. Presently came tidings that all the planters near Baton Rouge were removing their families and negroes, and that the Yankees were to shell the whole coast, from there up to here. Then Phillie, Lilly (Nolan), and I jumped in — the carriage that was still waiting, and ran after the others to bring them back before they got in danger; but when we reached the end of the long lane, we saw them standing on the high levee, wringing their hands and crying. We sprang out and joined them, and there, way at the bend, lay the Arkansas on fire! All except myself burst into tears and lamentations, and prayed aloud between their sobs. I had no words or tears; I could only look at our sole hope burning, going, and pray silently. Oh, it was so sad! Think, it was our sole dependence! And we five girls looked at her as the smoke rolled over her, watched the flames burst from her decks, and the shells as they exploded one by one beneath the water, coming up in jets of steam. And we watched until down the road we saw crowds of men toiling along toward us. Then we knew they were those who had escaped, and the girls sent up a shriek of pity.

On they came, dirty, half-dressed, some with only their guns, others, a few, with bundles and knapsacks on their backs, grimy and tired, but still laughing. We called to the first, and asked if the boat were really afire; they shouted, “Yes,” and went on, talking still. Presently one ran up and told us the story. How yesterday their engine had broken, and how they had labored all day to repair it; how they had succeeded, and had sat by their guns all night; and this morning, as they started to meet the Essex, the other engine had broken; how each officer wrote his opinion that it was impossible to fight her with any hope of success under such circumstances, and advised the Captain to abandon her; how they had resolved to do so, had exchanged shots with the Essex across the point, and the first of the latter (only one, also) had set ours afire, when the men were ordered to take their side arms. They thought it was to board the Essex, assembled together, when the order was given to fire the Arkansas and go ashore, which was done in a few minutes. Several of the crew were around us then, and up and down the road they were scattered still in crowds.

Miriam must have asked the name of some of the officers; for just then she called to me, “He says that is Mr. Read!” I looked at the foot of the levee, and saw two walking together. I hardly recognized the gentleman I was introduced to on the McRae in the one that now stood below me in rough sailor pants, a pair of boots, and a very thin and slazy lisle undershirt. That is all he had on, except an old straw hat, and — yes! he held a primer! I did not think it would be embarrassing to him to meet me under such circumstances; I only thought of Jimmy's friend as escaping from a sad fate; so I rushed down a levee twenty feet high, saying, “O Mr. Read! You won't recognize me, but I am Jimmy's sister” He blushed modestly, shook my hand as though we were old friends, and assured me he remembered me, was glad to meet me, etc. Then Miriam came down and talked to him, and then we went to the top of the levee where the rest were, and watched the poor Arkansas burn.

By that time the crowd that had gone up the road came back, and we found ourselves in the centre of two hundred men, just we five girls, talking with the officers around us as though they were old friends. You could only guess they were officers, for a dirtier, more forlorn set I never saw. Not dirty either; they looked clean, considering the work they had been doing. Nobody introduced anybody else; we all felt like brothers and sisters in our common calamity. There was one handsome Kentuckian, whose name I soon found to be Talbot, who looked charmingly picturesque in his coarse cottonade pants, white shirt, straw hat, black hair, beard, and eyes, with rosy cheeks. He was a graduate of the Naval Academy some years ago. Then another jolly-faced young man from the same Academy, pleased me, too. He, the doctor, and the Captain, were the only ones who possessed a coat in the whole crowd, the few who saved theirs carrying them over their arms. Mr. Read more than once blushingly remarked that they were prepared to fight, and hardly expected to meet us; but we pretended to think there was nothing unusual in his dress. I can understand, though, that he should feel rather awkward; I would not like to meet him, if I was in the same costume.

They all talked over their loss cheerfully, as far as the loss of money, watches, clothes, were concerned; but they were disheartened about their boat. One threw himself down near my feet, saying, “Me wild. I have saved my gun, et puis the clothes that I stand in!” and laughed as though it were an excellent joke. One who had been on the Merrimac chiefly regretted the loss of the commission appointing him there, though he had not saved a single article. The one with the jolly face told me Will Pinckney was among those attacking Baton Rouge, and assured him he expected to take supper there last night. He thought it would be with us, I know! I hope he is safe!

After a while the men were ordered to march up the lane, to some resting spot it is best not to mention here, and straggled off; but there were many sick among them, one wounded at Vicksburg, and we instantly voted to walk the mile and three quarters home, and give them the carriage and buggy. But long after they left, we stood with our new friends on the levee watching the last of the Arkansas, and saw the Essex, and two gunboats crowded with men, cautiously turn the point, and watch her burn. What made me furious was the thought of the glowing accounts they would give of their “capture of the Arkansas!!!” Capture, and they fired a shot apiece! — for all the firing we heard was the discharge of her guns by the flames. We saw them go back as cautiously, and I was furious, knowing the accounts they would publish of what we ourselves had destroyed. We had seen many shells explode, and one magazine, and would have waited for the other, if the clouds had not threatened rain speedily. But we had to leave her a mere wreck, still burning, and started off on our long walk.

In our hurry, I had brought neither handkerchief nor gloves, but hardly missed either, I was so excited. Mr. Talbot walked home with me, and each of the others with some one else. He had a small bundle and a sword, and the latter I insisted on carrying. It was something, to shoulder a sword made for use rather than for ornament! So I would carry it. He said “he would remember who had carried it, and the recollection would give it a new value in his eyes, and I might rest assured it should never be disgraced after that,” and all that sort of thing, of course, as it is usual to say it on such occasions. But I shouldered the sword bravely, determined to show my appreciation of the sacrifice they had made for us, in coming to our rescue on a boat they had every reason to believe was unsafe. I liked Mr. Talbot! He made himself very agreeable in that long walk. He asked permission to send me a trophy from the first action in which he used “that” sword, and didn't I say yes! He thought Southern men had every encouragement in the world, from the fact that the ladies welcomed them with great kindness in victory or defeat, insinuating he thought they hardly deserved our compassion after their failure on the Arkansas. But I stoutly denied that it was a failure. Had they not done their best? Was it their fault the machinery broke? And in defeat or vic tory, were they not still fighting for us? Were we the less grateful when they met with reverse? Oh, didn't I laud the Southern men with my whole heart!—and I think he felt better for it, too! Yes! I like him!

We all met at the steps, and water was given to our cavaliers, who certainly enjoyed it. We could not ask them in, as Dr. Nolan is on his parole; but Phillie intimated that if they chose to order, they might do as they pleased, as women could not resist armed men! So they took possession of the sugarhouse, and helped themselves to something to eat, and were welcome to do it, since no one could prevent! But they first stood talking on the balcony, gayly, and we parted with many warm wishes on both sides, insisting that, if they assisted at a second attack on Baton Rouge, they must remember our house was at their service, wounded or in health. And they all shook hands with us, and looked pleased, and said “God bless you,” and “Good-bye.”

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 147-55

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Sunday, June 29, 1862

“Any more, Mr. Lincoln, any more?” Can't you leave our racked homes in repose? We are all wild. Last night, five citizens were arrested, on no charge at all, and carried down to Picayune Butler's ship. What a thrill of terror ran through the whole community! We all felt so helpless, so powerless under the hand of our tyrant, the man who swore to uphold the Constitution and the laws, who is professedly only fighting to give us all Liberty, the birthright of every American, and who, nevertheless, has ground us down to a state where we would not reduce our negroes, who tortures and sneers at us, and rules us with an iron hand! Ah! Liberty! what a humbug! I would rather belong to England or France, than to the North! Bondage, woman that I am, I can never stand! Even now, the Northern papers, distributed among us, taunt us with our subjection and tell us “how coolly Butler will grind them down, paying no regard to their writhing and torture beyond tightening the bonds still more!” Ah, truly! this is the bitterness of slavery, to be insulted and reviled by cowards who are safe at home and enjoy the protection of the laws, while we, captive and overpowered, dare not raise our voices to throw back the insult, and are governed by the despotism of one man, whose word is our law! And that man, they tell us, “is the right man in the right place. He will develop a Union sentiment among the people, if the thing can be done!” Come and see if he can! Hear the curse that arises from thousands of hearts at that man's name, and say if he will “speedily bring us to our senses.” Will he accomplish it by love, tenderness, mercy, compassion? He might have done it; but did he try? When he came, he assumed his natural role as tyrant, and bravely has he acted it through, never once turning aside for Justice or Mercy. . . . This degradation is worse than the bitterness of death!

I see no salvation on either side. No glory awaits the Southern Confederacy, even if it does achieve its independence; it will be a mere speck in the world, with no weight or authority. The North confesses itself lost without us, and has paid an unheard-of ransom to regain us. On the other hand, conquered, what hope is there in this world for us? Broken in health and fortune, reviled, contemned, abused by those who claim already to have subdued us, without a prospect of future support for those few of our brothers who return; outcasts without home or honor, would not death or exile be preferable? Oh, let us abandon our loved home to these implacable enemies, and find refuge elsewhere! Take from us property, everything, only grant us liberty! Is this rather frantic, considering I abhor politics, and women who meddle with them, above all? My opinion has not yet changed; I still feel the same contempt for a woman who would talk at the top of her voice for the edification of Federal officers, as though anxious to receive an invitation requesting her presence at the Garrison. “I can suffer and be still” as far as outward signs are concerned; but as no word of this has passed my lips, I give it vent in writing, which is more lasting than words, partly to relieve my heart, partly to prove to my own satisfaction that I am no coward; for one line of this, surrounded as we are by soldiers, and liable to have our houses searched at any instant, would be a sufficient indictment for high treason.

Under General Williams's rule, I was perfectly satisfied that whatever was done, was done through necessity, and under orders from Headquarters, beyond his control; we all liked him. But now, since Butler's arrival, I believe I am as frantic in secret as the others are openly. I know that war sanctions many hard things, and that both sides practice them; but now we are so completely lost in Louisiana, is it fair to gibe and taunt us with our humiliation? I could stand anything save the cowardly ridicule and triumph of their papers. Honestly, I believe if all vile abusive papers on both sides were suppressed, and some of the fire-eating editors who make a living by lying were soundly cowhided or had their ears clipped, it would do more towards establishing peace, than all the bloodshedding either side can afford. I hope to live to see it, too. Seems to me, more liberty is allowed to the press than would be tolerated in speech. Let us speak as freely as any paper, and see if to-morrow we do not sleep at Fort Jackson!

This morning the excitement is rare; fifteen more citizens were arrested and carried off, and all the rest grew wild with expectation. So great a martyrdom is it considered, that I am sure those who are not arrested will be woefully disappointed. It is ludicrous to see how each man thinks he is the very one they are in search of! We asked a two-penny lawyer, of no more importance in the community than Dophy is, if it was possible he was not arrested. “But I am expecting to be every instant!” So much for his self-assurance! Those arrested have, some, been quietly released (those are so smiling and mysterious that I suspect them), some been obliged to take the oath, some sent to Fort Jackson. Ah, Liberty! What a blessing it is to enjoy thy privileges! If some of these poor men are not taken prisoners, they will die of mortification at the slight.

Our valiant Governor, the brave Moore, has by order of the real Governor, Moise, made himself visible at some far-distant point, and issued a proclamation, saying, whereas we of Baton Rouge were held forcibly in town, he therefore considered men, women, and children prisoners of war, and as such the Yankees are bound to supply us with all necessaries, and consequently any one sending us aid or comfort or provisions from the country will be severely punished. Only Moore is fool enough for such an order. Held down by the Federals, our paper money so much trash, with hardly any other to buy food and no way of earning it; threatened with starvation and utter ruin, our own friends, by way of making our burden lighter, forbid our receiving the means of prolonging life, and after generously warning us to leave town, which they know is perfectly impossible, prepare to burn it over our heads, and let the women run the same risk as the men. Penned in on one little square mile, here we await our fate like sheep in the slaughter-pen. Our hour may be at hand now, it may be to-night; we have only to wait; the booming of the cannon will announce it to us soon enough.

Of the six sentenced to Fort Jackson, one is the Methodist minister, Mr. Craven. The only charge is, that he was heard to pray for the Confederate States by some officers who passed his house during his family prayers. According to that, which of us would escape unhung? I do not believe there is a woman in the land who closes her eyes before praying for God's blessing on the side on which her brothers are engaged. Are we all to cease? Show me the dungeon deep enough to keep me from praying for them! The man represented that he had a large family totally dependent on him, who must starve. “Let them get up a subscription,” was General Butler's humane answer. “I will head it myself.” It is useless to say the generous offer was declined.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 92-7

Diary of Sarah Morgan: June 11, 1862

Last evening mother and Miriam went to the Arsenal to see if they would be allowed to do anything for the prisoners. General Williams received them, and fascinated Miriam by his manner, as usual. Poor Miriam is always being fascinated, according to her own account. He sent for little Nathan Castle and Willie Garig, and left them alone in the room with them, showing his confidence and delicacy by walking away. The poor young men were very grateful to be remembered; one had his eyes too full of tears to speak. Mr. Garig told Miriam that when the story of her refusing the escort was told in camp, the woods rang with shouts of “Three cheers for Miss Morgan!” They said they were treated very well, and had no want, except clean clothes, and to let their mothers know they were well and content. I have been hard at work mending three or four suits of the boys' clothing for those poor young men. Some needed thread and needle very much, but it was the best we could do. So I packed them all up — not forgetting a row of pins — and sent Tiche off with the bundle, perched real Congo fashion on her many-colored head-handkerchief, which was tied in the most superb Creole style in honor of the occasion.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 75-6

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Sunday, June 8, 1862

These people mean to kill us with kindness. There is such a thing as being too kind. Yesterday General Williams sent a barrel of flour to mother, accompanied by a note begging her to accept it “in consideration of the present condition of the circulating currency,” and the intention was so kind, the way it was done so delicate, that there was no refusing it. I had to write her thanks, and got in a violent fit of the “trembles” at the idea of writing to a stranger. One consolation is, that I am not a very big fool, for it took only three lines to prove myself one. If I had been a thundering big one, I would have occupied two pages to show myself fully. And to think it is out of our power to prove them our appreciation of the kindness we have universally met with! Many officers were in church this morning, and as they passed us while we waited for the door to be opened, General Williams bowed profoundly, another followed his example; we returned the salute, of course. But by to-morrow, those he did not bow to will cry treason against us. Let them howl. I am tired of lies, scandal, and deceit. All the loudest gossips have been frightened into the country, but enough remain to keep them well supplied with town talk. ... It is such a consolation to turn to the dear good people of the world after coming in contact with such cattle. Here, for instance, is Mr. Bonnecase on whom we have not the slightest claims. Every day since we have been here, he has sent a great pitcher of milk, knowing our cow is out; one day he sent rice, the next sardines, yesterday two bottles of Port and Madeira, which cannot be purchased in the whole South. What a duck of an old man! That is only one instance.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 70-1

Diary of Sarah Morgan: June 6, 1862

We dined at Mrs. Brunot's yesterday, and sitting on the gallery later, had the full benefit of a Yankee drill. They stopped in front of the house and went through some very curious manoeuvres, and then marched out to their drill-ground beyond. In returning, the whole regiment drew up directly before us, and we were dreadfully quiet for five minutes, the most uncomfortable I have experienced for some time. For it was absurd to look at the sky, and I looked in vain for one man with downcast eyes whereon I might rest mine; but from the officers down to the last private, they were all looking at us. I believe I would have cried with embarrassment if the command had not been given at that moment. They drilled splendidly, and knew it, too, so went through it as though they had not been at it for an hour before. One conceited, red-headed lieutenant smiled at us in the most fascinating way; perhaps he smiled to think how fine he was, and what an impression he was making.

We got back to our solitary house before twilight, and were sitting on the balcony, when Mr. Biddle entered. He came to ask if the guard had been placed here last night. It seems to me it would have saved him such a long walk if he had asked Colonel McMillan. He sat down, though, and got talking in the moonlight, and people passing, some citizens, some officers, looked wonderingly at this unheard-of occurrence. I won't be rude to any one in my own house, Yankee or Southern, say what they will. He talked a great deal, and was very entertaining; what tempted him, I cannot imagine. It was two hours before he thought of leaving. He was certainly very kind. He spoke of the scarcity of flour in town; said they had quantities at the Garrison, and asked permission to send us a barrel, which of course we refused. It showed a very good heart, though. He offered to take charge of any letters I would write; said he had heard General Williams speak of Harry; and when he at last left, I was still more pleased with him for this kindness to us. He says Captain Huger is dead. I am very, very much distressed. They are related, he says. He talked so reasonably of the war, that it was quite a novelty after reading the abusive newspapers of both sides. I like him, and was sorry I could not ask him to repeat his visit. We are unaccustomed to treat gentlemen that way; but it won't do in the present state to act as we please. Mob governs.

Mother kept me awake all night to listen to the mice in the garret. Every time I would doze she would ask, “What's that?” and insist that the mice were men. I had to get up and look for an imaginary host, so I am tired enough this morning.

Miriam has just got in with all the servants, our baggage is on the way, so we will be obliged to stay whether we will or no. I don't care; it is all the same, starve or burn. Oh! I forgot. Mr. Biddle did not write that pass! It was his clerk. He speaks very grammatically, so far as I can judge!!

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 68-70

Diary of Sarah Morgan: June 4, 1862 - Night

We were so distressed by the false position in which we would be placed by a Federal sentinel, that we did not know what course to pursue. As all our friends shook their heads and said it was dangerous, we knew full well what our enemies would say. If we win Baton Rouge, as I pray we will, they will say we asked protection from Yankees against our own men, are consequently traitors, and our property will be confiscated by our own Government. To decline General Williams's kind offer exposes the house to being plundered. In our dilemma, we made up our minds to stay, so we could say the sentinel was unnecessary.

Presently a file of six soldiers marched to the gate, an officer came to the steps and introduced himself as Colonel McMillan, of 21st Indiana Volunteers. He asked if this was Mrs. Morgan's; the General had ordered a guard placed around the house; he would suggest placing them in different parts of the yard. “Madam, the pickets await your orders.” Miriam in a desperate fright undertook to speak for mother, and asked if he thought there was any necessity. No, but it was an additional security, he said. “Then, if no actual necessity, we will relieve you of the disagreeable duty, as we expect to remain in town,” she said. He was very kind, and discussed the whole affair with us, saying when we made up our minds to leave, — we told him after we could not decide, — to write him word, and he would place a guard around to prevent his men and the negroes from breaking in. It was a singular situation: our brothers off fighting them, while these Federal officers leaned over our fence, and an officer standing on our steps offered to protect us. These people are certainly very kind to us. General Williams especially must be a dear old gentleman; he is so good.

How many good, and how many mean people these troubles have shown us! I am beginning to see my true friends, now; there is a large number of them, too. Everybody from whom we least expected attention has agreeably surprised us. . . .

General Williams will believe we are insane from our changing so often.

His guard positively refused.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 66-7

Diary of Sarah Morgan: June 4, 1862

Miriam Morgan

Miriam and Mattie drove in, in the little buggy, last evening after sunset, to find out what we were to do. Our condition is desperate. Beauregard is about attacking these Federals. They say he is coming from Corinth, and the fight will be in town. If true, we are lost again. Starvation at Greenwell, fever and bullets here, will put an end to us soon enough. There is no refuge for us, no one to consult. Brother, whose judgment we rely on as implicitly as we did on father's, we hear has gone to New York; there is no one to advise or direct us, for, if he is gone, there is no man in Louisiana whose decision I would blindly abide by. Let us stay and die. We can only die once; we can suffer a thousand deaths with suspense and uncertainty; the shortest is the best. Do you think the few words here can give an idea of our agony and despair? Nothing can express it. I feel a thousand years old to-day. I have shed the bitterest tears to-day that I have shed since father died. I can't stand it much longer; I'll give way presently, and I know my heart will break. Shame! Where is God? A fig for your religion, if it only lasts while the sun shines! “Better days are coming” — I can't!

Troops are constantly passing and repassing. They have scoured the country for ten miles out, in search of guerrillas. We are here without servants, clothing, or the bare necessaries of life: suppose they should seize them on the way! I procured a pass for the wagon, but it now seems doubtful if I can get the latter — a very faint chance. Well! let them go; our home next; then we can die sure enough. With God's help, I can stand anything yet in store for me. “I hope to die shouting, the Lord will provide!” Poor Lavinia! if she could only see us! I am glad she does not know our condition.

5 P.M. What a day of agony, doubt, uncertainty, and despair! Heaven save me from another such! Every hour fresh difficulties arose, until I believe we were almost crazy, every one of us.

As Miriam was about stepping in the buggy, to go to Greenwell to bring in our trunks, mother's heart misgave her, and she decided to sacrifice her property rather than remain in this state any longer. After a desperate discussion which proved that each argument was death, she decided to go back to Greenwell and give up the keys of the house to General Williams, and let him do as he pleased, rather than have it broken open during her absence. Mattie and Mr. Tunnard were present at the discussion, which ended by the latter stepping in the buggy and driving Miriam to the Garrison. General Williams called her by name, and asked her about Major Drum. It seems all these people, native and foreign, know us, while we know none. Miriam told him our condition, how our brothers were away, father dead, and mother afraid to remain, yet unwilling to lose her property by going away; how we three were alone and unprotected here, but would remain rather than have our home confiscated. He assured her the house should not be touched, that it would be respected in our absence as though we were in it, and he would place a sentinel at the door to guard it against his own men who might be disposed to enter. The latter she declined, but he said he would send his aide to mark the house, that it might be known. A moment after they got back, the aide, Mr. Biddle (I have his name to so many passes that I know it now), came to the door. Mr. Tunnard left him there, uncertain how we would receive a Christian, and I went out and asked him in. He looked uncertain of his reception, too, when we put an end to his doubt by treating him as we invariably treat gentlemen who appear such. He behaved remarkably well under the trying circumstances, and insisted on a sentinel; for, he said, though they would respect the property, there were many bad characters among the soldiers who might attempt to rob it, and the sentinel would protect it. After a visit of ten minutes, devoted exclusively to the affair, he arose and took his leave, leaving me under the impression that he was a gentleman wherever he came from, even if there were a few grammatical errors in the pass he wrote me yesterday; but “thou that judgest another, dost thou sin?”

Well, now we say, fly to Greenwell. Yes! and by to-night, a most exaggerated account of the whole affair will be spread over the whole country, and we will be equally suspected by our own people. Those who spread useless falsehoods about us will gladly have a foundation for a monstrous one. Didn't Camp Moore ring with the story of our entertaining the Federal officers? Didn't they spread the report that Miriam danced with one to the tune of “Yankee Doodle” in the State House garden? What will they stop at now? O! if I was only a man, and knew what to do!

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 62-6

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Sunday, June 1, 1862

From the news brought by one or two persons who managed to reach here yesterday, I am more uneasy about mother and the girls. A gentleman tells me that no one is permitted to leave without a pass, and of these, only such as are separated from their families, who may have left before. All families are prohibited to leave, and furniture and other valuables also. Here is an agreeable arrangement! I saw the “pass,” just such as we give our negroes, signed by a Wisconsin colonel. Think of being obliged to ask permission from some low plowman to go in or out of our own house! Cannon are planted as far out as Colonel Davidson's, six of them at our graveyard, and one or more on all the other roads. If the guerrillas do not attempt their capture, I shall take it upon myself to suggest it to the very next one I see. Even if they cannot use them, it will frighten the Yankees, who are in a state of constant alarm about them. Their reason for keeping people in town is that they hope they will not be attacked so long as our own friends remain; thereby placing us above themselves in the scale of humanity, since they acknowledge we are not brute enough to kill women and children as they did not hesitate to do.

Farragut pleads that he could not restrain his men, they were so enraged when the order was once given to fire, and says they would strike a few houses, though he ordered them to fire solely at horses, and the clouds of dust in the street, where guerrillas were supposed to be. The dust was by no means thick enough to conceal that these “guerrillas” were women, carrying babies instead of guns, and the horses were drawing buggies in which many a sick woman was lying.

A young lady who applied to the Yankee general for a pass to come out here, having doubtless spoken of the number of women here who had fled, and the position of the place, was advised to remain in town and write to the ladies to return immediately, and assure them that they would be respected and protected, etc., but that it was madness to remain at Greenwell, for a terrific battle would be fought there in a few days, and they would be exposed to the greatest danger. The girl wrote the letter, but, Mr. Fox, we are not quite such fools as to return there to afford you the protection our petticoats would secure to you, thereby preventing you from receiving condign punishment for the injuries and loss of property already inflicted upon us by you. No! we remain here; and if you are not laid low before you pass the Comite Bridge, we can take to the woods again, and camp out, as many a poor woman is doing now, a few miles from town. Many citizens have been arrested, and after being confined a while, and closely questioned, have been released, if the information is satisfactory. A negro man is informing on all cotton burners and violent Secessionists, etc.

Sunday night. The girls have just got back, riding in a mule team, on top of baggage, but without either mother or any of our affairs. Our condition is perfectly desperate. Miriam had an interview with General Williams, which was by no means satisfactory. He gave her a pass to leave, and bring us back, for he says there is no safety here for us; he will restrain his men in town, and protect the women, but once outside, he will answer neither for his men, nor the women and children. As soon as he gets horses enough, he passes this road, going to Camp Moore with his cavalry, and then we are in greater danger than ever. Any house shut up shall be occupied by soldiers. Five thousand are there now, five more expected. What shall we do? Mother remained, sending Miriam for me, determined to keep us there, rather than sacrifice both our lives and property by remaining here. But then — two weeks from now the yellow fever will break out; mother has the greatest horror of it, and we have never had it; dying is not much in the present state of our affairs, but the survivor will suffer even more than we do now. If we stay, how shall we live? I have seventeen hundred dollars in Confederate notes now in my “running-bag,” and three or four in silver. The former will not be received there, the latter might last two days. If we save our house and furniture, it is at the price of starving. I am of opinion that we should send for mother, and with what money we have, make our way somewhere in the interior, to some city where we can communicate with the boys, and be advised by them. This is not living. Home is lost beyond all hope of recovery; if we wait, what we have already saved will go, too; so we had better leave at once, with what clothing we have, which will certainly establish us on the footing of ladies, if we chance to fall among vulgar people who never look beyond. I fear the guerrillas will attack the town to-night; if they do, God help mother!

General Williams offered Miriam an escort when he found she was without a protector, in the most fatherly way; he must be a good man. She thanked him, but said “she felt perfectly safe on that road.” He bit his lip, understanding the allusion, and did not insist. She was to deliver a message from parties in town to the first guerrillas they met, concerning the safest roads, and presently six met them, and entered into conversation. She told them of the proffered escort, when one sprang forward crying, “Why didn't you accept, Miss? The next time, ask for one, and if it is at all disagreeable to you, I am the very man to rid you of such an inconvenience! I'll see that you are not annoyed long.” I am glad it was not sent; she would have reproached herself with murder forever after. I wonder if the General would have risked it?

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 53-7

Commander Samuel P. Lee to the Authorities at Vicksburg, May 18, 1862

UNITED STATES STEAMER ONEIDA,

Near Vicksburg, May 18, 1862.

To the AUTHORITIES AT VICKSBURG:

The undersigned, with orders from Flag-Officer Farragut and Major-General Butler, respectfully demand, in advance of the approaching fleet, the surrender of Vicksburg and its defenses to the lawful authority of the United States, under which private property and personal rights will be respected.

Very respectfully yours,

S. PHILLIPS LEE,

U.S. N., Commanding Advance of Naval Division.

T. WILLIAMS,

Brigadier-General.

SOURCES: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 15 (Serial No. 21), p. 6-7

Washington News, Rumors &c.

WASHINGTON, Feb. 20. – Yesterday the Senate confirmed Cassius M. Clay as Major-General, and Jesse L. Reno, of Burnside’s column, as Brigadier-General.  It also rejected Quartermaster Charles Lieb for the second time, the Military Committee stating that he had a million of dollars unaccounted for.

Mr. Vallandigham was much agitated while speaking on Mr. Hickman’s resolution.  When he concluded only two members went to him, Cox and Pendleton.  The Kentucky members are evidently against him.

Mr. Washburne, of Ill., pushed the House in Committee of the Whole through all the Senate’s amendments to the Treasury note bill at a gallop, cutting off a number of long-winded speeches.  The vote concurring in the amendment paying interest in cash was, ayes 76, nays not counted.  The sinking fund amendment was rejected on the unanimous recommendation of the Ways and Means Committee, though opposed by the Homestead, because it devotes to this fund the proceeds of sales of public lands.

The Richmond Examiner of Saturday contains an editorial commencing with the following: – From the valiant Senator down to the timid seamstress, the question on every tongue in Richmond is, whether the enemy are likely to penetrate with their gunboats to this quarter.

The House District of Columbia Committee will report a bill abolishing slavery and incorporating Pennsylvania Avenue.

Assistant Secretary Seward was examined by the Judiciary Committee on censorship of telegraph yesterday.  The investigation is drawing to a close.

A report was made in the Senate Executive Secession yesterday on Mexican affairs by the Committee on Foreign Affairs.  It has been ordered printed.

Mr. Rice of Minnesota, from the Senate Committee on Military Affairs, reported yesterday a joint resolution giving authority to the President to appoint a Lieutenant General by brevet.  The same committee reported in favor of an appropriation to purchase and distribute silver medals to privates and non-commissioned officers, in both army and navy, for distinguished services during the present war.  They also decide not to grant brevet commissions except for gallant conduct in the face of the enemy.

All stories purporting that Gen. Fremont has received a clean bill of health from the Committee on the Conduct of the War, or that he has been assigned to a new command, are without foundation, at least premature.  What may be done eventually depends on the Committee.

The Committee on Conduct of the War has recently been inquiring into the case of Dr. Ives and into the blockade of the Potomac.  On the first matter Mr. Hudson, managing editor of the New York Herald, and on the 2^nd, Capt. Dahlgren were examined.

The Navy Department will issue proposals for steam men of war.  Construction of gunboats will be pressed.

No more titles by brevet will be given, except for distinction in battle.

Mr. Trumbull said in the debate on the army deficiency bill to-day, that he had received authentic information that there were only 28,000 Union soldiers under Gen. Grant at Fort Donelson, instead for 40,000 or 50,000, as reported.

In the House Mr. Voorhes of Indiana made a thorough secession speech, declaring that the people of Indiana were in favor of compromise with the rebels.

Mr. Washburn of Illinois replied to him, saying that the people of Illinois were in favor of Gen. Grant’s compromise with Buckner, viz: immediate and unconditional surrender.  (Loud applause on the floor and galleries.)

Thirty transports ran the Potomac blockade unharmed Tuesday and Wednesday nights.

Gen. Thomas Williams is released from command at Hatteras, and will have command under Gen. Butler, now at Ship Island.

Butler’s New England department has been abrogated, and his authority to raise and equip troops and make contracts revoked.

Governors of States are hereafter to be the only persons authorized to raise regiments.

Mr. Richardson of Illinois, from the House Military Committee, reported a resolution urging that no rebels who have been in the civil, military or naval service of the United States, be exchanged, with the design of keeping and punishing them as ringleaders.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, February 22, 1862, p. 3