Virginia Secession Convention, June 17, 1861

SECOND SESSION.

FOURTH DAY.

RICHMOND, Monday, June 17, 1861.

The Convention assembled at 10 o’clock.—Prayer by the Rev. Mr. Peterkin.

The Chair called for reports from Committees, and the Secretary read the list, but no response was made.

Mr. FISHER.—Mr. President, I am instructed to ask that the Committee on Post Offices be discharged from further duty, the whole subject having been turned over to the Confederate Government, and no further business being before the committee.

There being no objection, the Committee was thereupon discharged.

The Chair announced the committee on Railroads to be Messrs. Morris, Cox of Chesterfield, Harvie, Johnson of Richmond City, and Marye.

Mr. STAPLES.—Not being present when the Ordinance of Secession was signed, I ask leave to append my name to that instrument.

The PRESIDENT.—There is a general order upon that subject, which will enable the gentleman to sign the Ordinance without the leave of the convention.

Mr. JOHNTSON.—A document has reached my hand from a county where I do not belong, but, nevertheless, I take the liberty of laying the same before the Convention. As the subject referred to is one upon which this body can properly take no action, I simply present it, and ask that it be laid upon the table.

A VOICE.—Have it read!

Mr. JOHNSTON.—That is hardly worth while, for I can state its object in three words. It is simply a petition from the county of Washington, asking for the establishment of an election precinct. I move that it be laid upon the table.

The motion was agreed to.

The PRESIDENT.—When this body last adjourned it was in secret session, and if there is no other business before the Convention, I shall direct the lobbies and galleries to be cleared preparatory to resuming the consideration of the subject then under discussion.

The Convention accordingly went into secret session, in which it remained until half past two o’clock, when the doors were again thrown open.

RECEPTION BY HON. JEFFERSON DAVIS.

The PRESIDENT then laid before the Convention the following communication in response to a letter addressed by him to the President of the Confederate States, in accordance with a resolution offered by Mr. DORMAN, that the latter be invited to state when it would be convenient for him to receive the members of the Convention.

SPOTSWOOD HOUSE, June 16, 1861.

 

HON. JOHN JANNEY, President, etc.—

 

Sir:—I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 15th inst., communicating to me the resolution of the Virginia State Convention to visit me at such hour as it may appoint.

 

It will afford me great pleasure to receive you and the members of the Convention at eight o’clock on Monday evening of the 17th instant. I have the honor to be,

 

Very respectfully, yours,

JEFFERSON DAIVS.

COURTESIES TO SECRETARY WALKER.

 The PRESIDENT also laid before the body the following communication from the Hon. L. P. Walker, Secretary of War:

CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA.

Richmond, June 15, 1861.

 

To the Hon. JOHN JANNEY, President of the Virginia State Convention:

 

SIR:— Your letter inviting me, “in obedience to a resolution of the Virginia State Convention, unanimously adopted,” to occupy a privileged seat, provided in the Hall of the Convention, is before me.

 

Return to the Convention, if you please, my profound acknowledgement of their courtesy; and accept, for yourself, assurances of distinguished consideration.

 

L. P. WALKER,

Secretary of War.

Mr. TYLER.—I move that when this Convention adjourns, it be to meet at half-past seven o’clock this evening at this place.

The motion was agreed to.

On Motion of Mr. TYLER, the communication of Secretary WALKER was laid upon the table.

Mr. TYLER.—I now propose for adoption the following resolutions:

Resolved, That this convention has heard with high satisfaction of the brilliant victory recently obtained by the combined forces of North Carolina and Virginia at Bethel, in the county of York, the first regular conflict between those who, under usurped authority, have invaded our soil and the brave defenders of that soil, and it being altogether appropriate that our troops should receive a suitable meed of applause for their gallantry and good conduct;

Be it therefore resolved, That in the name of the people of Virginia, this convention expresses its high admiration of the gallantry and good conduct of the officers and men engaged in the battle of Bethel on the 10th instant, where they repelled and put to flight more than four times their numbers;

Resolved, That the conduct of Col. John B. Magruder, the commander of the Confederate forces, of Col. D. A. Hill, the commander of the North Carolina troops, and of the officers under their command, evinced in the opinion of this convention high military skill, united to unshrinking valor;

Resolved, That copies of the foregoing resolutions be forwarded to Col. Magruder, with the request that he will cause the same to be publicly read to the troops under his command.

Mr. TYLER. I desire to say, Mr. President in regard to these resolutions, that the North Carolina Legislature received with rapturous applause the account of the battle of Bethel Church, and of the noble action of the North Carolina troops upon that occasion; and so inspired were they by the intelligence of the gallantry of their commander, Col. Hill, that (if the papers are to be relied upon.) they immediately promoted him to the grade of a Brigadier General.

Sir, when you come to estimate the value and importance of that battle, considering that it is the first regular action that has occurred on our soil—though I would, by no means forget the bold and gallant stand made by the Fauquier Rifles—and when you calculate the circumstances by which our little army was surrounded and the battle was fought, it is impossible not to confess that it stands by the side of the most brilliant military achievements that history every recorded.

At the battle of Agincourt, in former days, we are told that the English fought in the proportion of one against ten, and obtained a victory; but it must be remembered that it was then against an undisciplined rabble, under no military restraint, and unfamiliar with even the rudiments of military discipline; but here we have had to encounter troops acquainted with the art of war, well drilled and formidable.

They marched up to your ramparts; they advanced against you four to one, and your handful of men dissipated them like chaff before the wind. I cannot imagine anything more brilliant than this engagement. I cannot conceive of braver or more undaunted men, or of military skill more consummate or successful in its results. Cheerfully do I contribute the praise which properly belongs to the achievement, and to the noble volunteers who participated in it.

You will remember that we were to be overcome by these invaders; that all these disturbances of the country were to pass away like a morning dream. When the enemy came upon the field, it is said they talked with derision particularly of North Carolinians, as mere cornstalk troops, whom they were to drive from their sight without a blow; and yet those same corn stalk troops, under the orders of their gallant leader, by one single dash of the bayonet, put the enemy to flight and relieved themselves from the further embarrassment of their presence.

[A VOICE.—They whipped the Zouaves, the crack regiment.]

Yes, I thank the gentleman for the suggestion. We have whipped their best regiment off the field without difficulty, and thank God, with the loss of but one man. We brought against their four thousand but eight hundred muskets, and almost in the twinkling of an eye that four thousand was dispersed, and victory perched upon our banners.

There is but one occurrence of a similar kind in our history with which I can compare it; it took place upon the celebrated battlefield of Buena Vista. You all well remember the gallant conduct of the present President upon that occasion. It was supposed that the day was lost, that our handful of five thousand were to be trampled upon by a host of twenty thousand Mexicans; but whose heart did not thrill with joy on reading the account of the momentary retreat under Col. Davis until he found a better position when, coming to a right about, the order of “forward march” was given, and they dashed into the ranks of the enemy. Another brilliant incident deserves to be mentioned in connection with Bragg’s battery of Flying artillery—the same gentleman who is now commanding our Southern troops at Pensacola.

I received the account from the lips of Gen. Taylor himself. He had with him but two hundred men. A body of four thousand Mexicans were advancing, and the fate of the day depended upon that contest. Gen. Taylor was close by to encourage him by his presence—standing there, as the brave old man told me, with no expectation of leaving the field alive. The fire opened, the enemy recoiled, hesitated, and finally retreated before the little force, and the day was hours. And now, as then, when you compare the disparity of our numbers engaged in the late conflict at Bethel, you have cause to exult, proudly exult, in the character of the achievement and the conduct of our troops.

Mr. President, I am restrained from making any discrimination among either our officers or soldiers in referring to the recent battle. All behaved nobly and all alike deserve commendation. But if I were to make any distinction of the gallant Major of the Howitzers, whom we all well know and appreciate. But I abstain. I trust, Mr. President—and this is one of the great objects of these resolutions independent of a rendition of a tribute of respect and applause to those who deserve it—this example will stimulate all to meet the invaders and drive them from the soil without hesitating to count either their own or the number of the enemy—to meet them dauntlessly—meet them as has been done by this handful at Bethel, and my life upon a victory will crown our [endeavors] at every stop.

RAILRAOD BETWEEN WINCHESTER AND STRASBURG.

Mr. R. Y. CONRAD—I desire to call the attention of the Convention to an ordinance of considerable importance in regard to the railroad connection between Winchester and Strasburg. I move that it be taken up and put upon its passage.

The motion was agreed to.

Mr. CONRAD—It may be necessary to state in regard to this ordinance, that it is intended to authorized the construction, by the Manassas Railroad Company, of a military road from Strasburg to Winchester, a distance of about eighteen miles. Winchester is now the Headquarters of the whole force under the Headquarters of the whole force under the command of General Johnson, who has fallen back upon that town which will probably be a point of conflict. This road was deemed so important by the Governor and council as well as by the Commander in Chief, that they have not only recommended the adoption of the Ordinance, but have agreed, without authority from the Convention, to advance the sum of fourteen thousand five hundred dollars to pay the revenue duties on the rail road iron proposed to be used in its construction. They have also made a contract, depending upon the approval of this Convention, with the Manassas Gap road, by which the work will be done without any expense to the State. The only difficulty in regard to the passage of the Ordinance of which I am aware grows out of the fact that the connection between Strasburg and Winchester has heretofore been a subject of controversy in our Legislature. But I have to state that the causes of that controversy have been entirely removed by the present condition of the country. The rival which caused the opposition thus made no longer exists or can exist. It was formerly supposed that this road might be prejudicial to the interests of Alexandria; but the President of the Manassas Rail Road Company authorizes me to stat that he is now anxious for its construction; and that he himself made the proposition concerning this contract, which has been approved by the Governor and Council and General Lee. I hope, therefore, it may be unnecessary to make any further statement to the Convention in reference to the matter. If there be any such occasion, I think I can satisfy the members of this convention of the propriety and importance, in every point of view, of granting the authority for the construction of the road.

Mr. GREGORY.—I desire to submit a motion which I have never before made in any deliberative body. This is a question of some interest, and likely to require the consideration of the Convention longer than the present late hour will warrant. I move that we do now adjourn.

The PRESIDENT. The Chair would suggest the propriety of taking a recess until half past seven o’clock.

Mr. GREGORY.—That ought to have been my motion, and I now make it.

Mr. BORST.—I hope the gentleman will withdraw his motion for five minutes, as I believe that this matter may be settled without further discussion.

Mr. GREGORY.—I should prefer to have it lay over until we meet again.

The Convention then took a recess until half past 7 o’clock, p.m.

EVENING SESSION.

VISIT TO THE PRESIDENT.

The Convention re-assembled at half past seven o’clock.

At ten minutes to eight, the body adjourned and preceded by Hon. Jon Janney, the President and Hon. John Tyler, visited the Hon. Jefferson Davis at his parlors, in the Spotswood Hotel, the members being severally introduced to the Chief Magistrate by Mr. Eubank, the Secretary of the Convention. There were also present Hon. Messrs. Toombs, Memminger and Mallory of the cabinet, and Mr. Brown, the Assistant Secretary of State. An hour having been spent in the interchange of courtesies, the gentlemen retired.

SOURCES: Lyon Gardiner Tyler, The Letters and Times of the Tylers, Volume 2, p. 660-1; “Virginia Secession Convention,” Richmond Enquirer, Semi-Weekly Edition, Tuesday Morning, June 18, 1861, p. 2

Diary of Private William S. White, June 14, 1861

Arrived at Bethel Church this morning about 9 A. M., and immediately set to work to get breakfast—such a breakfast: salt pork, black Rio coffee and hard crackers. Well, such is a soldier's life, and we mustn't complain. The Zouaves are having even a harder time of it than we, for their rations have not yet arrived. Most of their officers seem to be gentlemen, but some of them are very cruel to their men. The Second Louisiana regiment came down a few hours since.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 101

Diary of William Howard Russell: July 6, 1861

I breakfasted with Mr. Bigelow this morning, to meet General McDowell, who commands the army of the Potomac, now so soon to move. He came in without an aide-de-camp, and on foot, from his quarters in the city. He is a man about forty years of age, square and powerfully built, but with rather a stout and clumsy figure and limbs, a good head covered with close-cut thick dark hair, small light-blue eyes, short nose, large cheeks and jaw, relieved by an iron-gray tuft somewhat of the French type, and affecting in dress the style of our gallant allies. His manner is frank, simple, and agreeable, and he did not hesitate to speak with great openness of the difficulties he had to contend with, and the imperfection of all the arrangements of the army.

As an officer of the regular army he has a thorough contempt for what he calls “political generals” — the men who use their influence with President and Congress to obtain military rank, which in time of war places them before the public in the front of events, and gives them an appearance of leading in the greatest of all political movements. Nor is General McDowell enamored of volunteers, for he served in Mexico, and has from what he saw there formed rather an unfavorable opinion of their capabilities in the field. He is inclined, however, to hold the Southern troops in too little respect; and he told me that the volunteers from the Slave States, who entered the field full of exultation and boastings, did not make good their words, and that they suffered especially from sickness and disease, in consequence of their disorderly habits and dissipation. His regard for old associations was evinced in many questions he asked me about Beauregard, with whom he had been a student at West Point, where the Confederate commander was noted for his studious and reserved habits, and his excellence in feats of strength and athletic exercises.

As proof of the low standard established in his army, he mentioned that some officers of considerable rank were more than suspected of selling rations, and of illicit connections with sutlers for purposes of pecuniary advantage. The General walked back with me as far as my lodgings, and I observed that not one of the many soldiers he passed in the streets saluted him, though his rank was indicated by his velvet collar and cuffs, and a gold star on the shoulder strap.

Having written some letters, I walked out with Captain Johnson and one of the attachés of the British Legation, to the lawn at the back of the White House, and listened to the excellent band of the United States Marines, playing on a kind of dais under the large flag recently hoisted by the President himself, in the garden. The occasion was marked by rather an ominous event. As the President pulled the halyards and the flag floated aloft, a branch of a tree caught the bunting and tore it, so that a number of the stars and stripes were detached and hung dangling beneath the rest of the flag, half detached from the staff.

I dined at Captain Johnson's lodgings next door to mine. Beneath us was a wine and spirit store, and crowds of officers and men flocked indiscriminately to make their purchases, with a good deal of tumult, which increased as the night came on. Later still, there was a great disturbance in the city. A body of New York Zouaves wrecked some houses of bad repute, in one of which a private of the regiment was murdered early this morning. The cavalry patrols were called out and charged the rioters, who were dispersed with difficulty after resistance in which men on both sides were wounded. There is no police, no provost guard. Soldiers wander about the streets, and beg in the fashion of the mendicant in “Gil Bias” for money to get whiskey. My colored gentleman has been led away by the Saturnalia and has taken to gambling in the camps, which are surrounded by hordes of rascally followers and sutlers' servants, and I find myself on the eve of a campaign, without servant, horse, equipment, or means of transport.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, Vol. 1, p. 389-90

Diary of Private Charles Wright Wills, April 28, 1861

Cairo. This is the twilight of our first day here. We started from Peoria last Wednesday at 11 a. m. amid such a scene as I never saw before. Shouting, crying, praying, and shaking hands were the exercises. Along the whole line from Peoria to Springfield, from every house we had cheers and waving of handkerchiefs. Got to Springfield at dark and marched out to Camp Brick (it is a brickkiln) by moonlight. Our beds were of hay, scattered on the earthen floor of the dry shed. We had to sleep very close together, being cramped for room. Our eatables are bread, bacon, beef, coffee, beans, rice, potatoes and sugar and molasses and pickles.

I had to quit last night because the light wouldn't wait for me. Well, we stayed at Camp Brick until Thursday 25th in the p. m., when we were marched over to Camp Yates to form a regiment. Ten companies of us, numbering from 93 to 125 men in each, were trimmed down to 77rank and file, each. This created considerable dissatisfaction and made a deal of very wicked swearing. Some of the men who were turned out of our company threatened to shoot our captain, but he is still living. After we were trimmed to the required number we were sworn in by company and then quartered in Camp Yates, though we elected our officers first. You will see by the papers who they are. To be certain I will put them down: Colonel, Oglesby; Lieutenant Colonel, Rhoads; Major, Post; Captain, Denison; First Lieutenant, Wetzel; Second Lieutenant, Probstein. Our quarters are the old cattle stalls. Eight men are allowed the same room that one cow or jackass had. I heard Douglas Thursday night and cheered him for the first time in my life. Saturday night at 9 we started for this place. Flags were displayed from houses the whole distance, and the feeling seems as good here as at home. Sixty miles above here, at the Big Muddy bridge, occurred the only trouble the boys have had here. A lot of traitors from over the Ohio river tried to burn the bridge and are still trying to do it. A company of Chicago Zouaves are posted there with a 6:25 field piece. They shot at fellows spying around four times Saturday night. We are more afraid of ague here than of the enemy. We drink no liquors and keep ourselves as cleanly as possible. There are 3,000 of us here and we think we can hold it against 15,000. If they cut the levee the river is so low that we will not be flooded. We have 15 cannons now and will have 15 more to-day. We stop every boat that passes and take off all provisions and ammunition and clothing. The boys are allowed to appropriate what clothing they need from that which is seized. There are now 5,000 men twenty miles below here, at Columbus, Ky., who intended trying to take this spot, but the arrival of our regiment will, it is thought, stop that movement. It is well worth their trouble to take us for we have thousands of dollars worth of their goods here which are seized. You cannot conceive anything like the feeling that possesses our troops here. Although about half of us are green, raw militia, and will need discipline to make us what we should be, yet to a man they all pray for an assault. Kentucky, right across the river, is as strongly for secession as Mississippi can be, and I have no doubt but that we will be attacked the latter part of this week if no more troops come.

Our quarters here are much the same as at Camp Yates. The shed in which our company sleep is entirely open to the south, and very well ventilated otherwise. It is quite warm here though, and we all go in our shirt sleeves even when off duty. The trees are nearly in full leaf and grain is up eight or nine inches.

If any boys go from Canton, they should have a pair of woolen undershirts, ditto drawers, and two flannel overshirts, woolen stockings (feet don't blister as quick in them) and a heavy blanket or pair of light ones. Our company all have a revolver (Colt) and knife each. Mine were given to me by friends in Peoria.

This is a lovely place — a gorgeous hole! It smells just like that bottom below Dorrance's mill, and will breed fever and ague enough to disable all the men in this state. I just now hear the boys saying that we move to-morrow up the river to form a battery to stop a move expected from the Rebels. We can't rely on any of these rumors, though. The boys are shooting at marks all round us with their revolvers. I shoot about as well as any of them.

George Bestor, Jr., sits near me and just now said that he saw a man from Memphis this morning, who said that they were making preparation to come up here and take this Point, relying partly on the disloyal citizens for help. They will have a good time of it.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 7-10

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Monday July 21, 1862

We are target firing now. The Enfields are a little better sighted than the muskets; the muskets have most power and the longest range. Company C does rather the best shooting, Companies E and A coming next.

A zouave at the Flat Top camp found tied to a tree with five bullet holes through him! Naked too! An enemy's cavalry patrol seen two miles outside of our pickets. Secesh, ten or twelve in number.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 307

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, June 3, 1862

Flat Top Mountain, June 3, 1862.

Dearest:  — I am made happy by your letter of the 24th and the picture of Webb. Enclosed I send Webb a letter from Lieutenant Kennedy.

I am not surprised that you have been some puzzled to make out our movements and position from the confused accounts you see in the papers. Our log-book would run about this way: Flat Top Mountain, twenty miles south of Raleigh, is the boundary line between America and Dixie — between western Virginia, either loyal or subdued, and western Virginia, rebellious and unconquered. [Here follows an account of the movements and activities of the regiment during May, which is a repetition in brief of previous letters and Diary entries.] Here we are safe as a bug in a rug — the enemy more afraid of us than we are of them — and some of us do fear them quite enough. My opinion was, we ought to have fought Marshall at Princeton, but it is not quite certain.

All our regiments have behaved reasonably well except [the] Thirty-fourth, Piatt's Zouaves, and Paxton's Cavalry. Don't abuse them, but they were pretty shabby. The zouaves were scattered seventy miles, reporting us all cut to pieces, etc., etc. Enough of war.

The misfortune of our situation is, we have not half force enough for our work. If we go forward the enemy can come in behind us and destroy valuable stores, cut off our supplies, and cut through to the Ohio River, — for we are not strong enough to leave a guard behind us.

We look with the greatest interest to the great armies. Banks' big scare will do good. It helps us to about fifty thousand new men.

I nearly forgot to tell you how we were all struck by lightning on Saturday. We had a severe thunder-storm while at supper. We were outside of the tent discussing lightning — the rapidity of sound, etc., etc., Avery and Dr. McCurdy both facing me, Dr. Joe about a rod off, when there came a flash and shock and roar. The sentinel near us staggered but did not fall. Dr. McCurdy and Avery both felt a pricking sensation on the forehead. I felt as if a stone had hit me in the head. Captain Drake's arm was benumbed for a few minutes. My horse was nearly knocked down. Some horses were knocked down. Five trees near by were hit, and perhaps one hundred men more or less shocked, but strange to say “nobody hurt.”

All things still look well for a favorable conclusion to the war. I do not expect to see it ended so speedily as many suppose, but patience will carry us through.

I thought of you before I got up this morning, saying to myself, “Darling Lucy, I love you so much,” and so I do.

Affectionately,

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 285-6

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant George G. Smith: April 23, 1864

On the march at six a. m. Rebels had crossed Caney river at the ford and taken possession of three high hills on the opposite bank, and planted a battery of six guns on the highest one, next to the ford, and our artillery were unable to dislodge them. So a force of infantry, one regiment of which was the First Louisiana, were ordered to move up the river, about two miles, cross over and threaten their left flank and rear. After crossing we passed through a deep swamp. On the first hill we saw nothing of the enemy until we came to the foot, where there was a wide field. We found the enemy here in force. A regiment of Zouaves from New York city charged on them and they retreated up the second hill followed by the pu[r]suing regements. Between this hill and the third one next the ford there was a narrow field through which ran a stream of water crossed by a bridge. General Birge ordered a company of mounted infantry, belonging to the thirteenth Connecticut Volunteers commanded by Lieutenant Mesner to cross the bridge and ride through the field and then followed with the Second brigade marching by the flank; the First Louisiana on the right. A short distance beyond the bridge to the left was a shallow ravine. As soon as the First Louisiana was across and filed to the left, toward the ravine, the rebels opened a destructive fire of grape and musketry into Lieutenent Mesner's company, and the First Louisiana from the opposite hill. The company of mounted infantry was literally cut to pieces, and Lieutenant Mesner was pierced with three bullets, and died soon after. The First Louisiana fell back into the ravine. General Birge came riding back, hatless, and ordered the men to lie down in the ravine. Captain Felton and myself, did not obey orders: we wanted to see what was going on, and the writer of this came very near paying the penalty for his curiosity with his life. There was a small hickory sapling about as large as ones arm, standing about three feet in front of us. A bullet struck it, about breast high, penetrating it about half way through, i stood just in line and had it not been for that sapling, these pages never would have been written. The Second and Third brigades were soon on the move, charging up the steep hill, but the birds had flown. A messenger came stating that the troops were crossing the ford, and we marched round the base of the hill to it, and encamped on the bank of the river. I have been told by those that were fighting by the ford, that they drove the enemy from the hill: but I always thought the Second and Third brigade, creeping around on their left flank, and threatening their line of retreat, had something to do with it: for their position above the ford and plain below, was so far above them that artilery must have been entirely ineffective, and musketry could not reach them: so that a flank movement was the only remedy as I believe. We lost one hundred and fifty in killed and wounded. The First Louisiana had six wounded, none killed.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 100-3

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Tuesday, July 7, 1863

Lawley, the Austrian, and I drove into Hagerstown this morning, and General Longstreet moved into a new position on the Williamsport road, which he was to occupy for the present. We got an excellent room in the Washington Hotel on producing greenbacks. Public opinion in Hagerstown seems to be pretty evenly divided between North and South, and probably accommodates itself to circumstances. For instance, yesterday the women waved their handkerchiefs when the Yankee cavalry were driven through the town, and to-day they went through the same compliment in honour of 3500 Yankee (Gettysburg) prisoners whom I saw marched through en, route for Richmond. I overheard the conversation of some Confederate soldiers about these prisoners. One remarked, with respect to the Zouaves, of whom there were a few — “Those red-breeched fellows look as if they could fight, but they don't, though; no, not so well as the blue-bellies.”

Lawley introduced me to General Stuart in the streets of Hagerstown to-day. He is commonly called Jeb Stuart, on account of his initials; he is a good-looking, jovial character, exactly like his photographs. He has certainly accomplished wonders, and done excellent service in his peculiar style of warfare. He is a good and gallant soldier, though he sometimes incurs ridicule by his harmless affectation and peculiarities. The other day he rode through a Virginian town, his horse covered with garlands of roses. He also departs considerably from the severe simplicity of dress adopted by other Confederate generals; but no one can deny that he is the right man in the right place. On a campaign, he seems to roam over the country according to his own discretion, and always gives a good account of himself, turning up at the right moment; and hitherto he has never got himself into any serious trouble.

I rode to General Longstreet's camp, which is about two miles in the direction of Williamsport, and consulted him about my difficulties with regard to my leave. He was most good-natured about it, and advised me under the circumstances to drive in the direction of Hancock; and, in the event of being ill-treated on my way, to insist upon being taken before the nearest U.S. officer of the highest rank, who would probably protect me. I determined to take his advice at once; so I took leave of him and of his officers. Longstreet is generally a very taciturn and undemonstrative man, but he was quite affectionate in his farewell. His last words were a hearty hope for the speedy termination of the war. All his officers were equally kind in their expressions on my taking leave, though the last sentence uttered by Latrobe was not entirely reassuring—viz., "You may take your oath he'll be caught for a spy."

I then rode to General Lee's camp, and asked him for a pass to get through his lines. We had a long talk together, and he told me of the raid made by the enemy, for the express purpose of arresting his badly wounded son (a Confederate Brigadier-General), who was lying in the house of a relation in Virginia. They insisted upon carrying him off in a litter, though he had never been out of bed, and had quite recently been shot through the thigh. This seizure was evidently made for purposes of retaliation. His life has since been threatened, in the event of the South retaliating for Burnside's alleged military murders in Kentucky. But few officers, however, speak of the Northerners with so much moderation as General Lee; his extreme amiability seems to prevent his speaking strongly against any one. I really felt quite sorry when I said good-bye to so many gentlemen from whom I had received so much disinterested kindness.

I am now about to leave the Southern States, after travelling quite alone throughout their entire length and breadth, including Texas and the trans-Mississippi country, for nearly three months and a half, during which time I have been thrown amongst all classes of the population — the highest, the lowest, and the most lawless. Although many were very sore about the conduct of England, I never received an uncivil word from anybody, but, on the contrary, I have been treated by all with more than kindness.* I have never met a man who was not anxious for a termination of the war; and I have never met a man, woman, or child who contemplated its termination as possible without an entire separation from the now detested Yankee. I have never been asked for alms or a gratuity by any man or woman, black or white. Every one knew who I was, and all spoke to me with the greatest confidence. I have rarely heard any person complain of the almost total ruin which has befallen so many. All are prepared to undergo still greater sacrifices, — they contemplate and prepare to receive great reverses which it is impossible to avert. They look to a successful termination of the war as certain, although few are sanguine enough to fix a speedy date for it, and nearly all bargain for its lasting at least all Lincoln's presidency. Although I have always been with the Confederates in the time of their misfortunes, yet I never heard any person use a desponding word as to the result of the struggle. When I was in Texas and Louisiana, Banks seemed to be carrying everything before him, Grant was doing the same in Mississippi, and I certainly did not bring luck to my friends at Gettysburg. I have lived in bivouacs with all the Southern armies, which are as distinct from one another as the British is from the Austrian, and I have never once seen an instance of insubordination.

When I got back to Hagerstown, I endeavoured to make arrangements for a horse and buggy to drive through the lines. With immense difficulty I secured the services of a Mr ——, to take me to Hancock, and as much farther as I chose to go, for a dollar a mile (greenbacks). I engaged also to pay him the value of his horse and buggy, in case they should be confiscated by either side. He was evidently extremely alarmed, and I was obliged to keep him up to the mark by assurances that his horse would inevitably be seized by the Confederates, unless protected by General Lee's pass in my possession.

_______________

* The only occasion on which I was roughly handled was when I had the misfortune to enter the city of Jackson, Mississippi, just as the Federals evacuated it. I do not complain of that affair, which, under the circumstances, was not to be wondered at.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 292-7

Diary of William Howard Russell: June 2, 1861

My good friend the Consul was up early to see me off; and we drove together to the steamer J. L. Cotten. The people were going to mass as we passed through the streets; and it was pitiable to see the children dressed out as Zouaves, with tin swords and all sorts of pseudo-military tomfoolery; streets crowded with military companies; bands playing on all sides.

Before we left the door a poor black sailor came up to entreat Mr. Mure's interference. He had been sent by Mr. Magee, the Consul at Mobile, by land to New Orleans, in the hope that Mr. Mure would be able to procure him a free passage to some British port. He had served in the Royal Navy, and had received a wound in the Russian war. The moment he arrived in New Orleans he had been seized by the police. On his stating that he was a free-born British subject, the authorities ordered him to be taken to Mr. Mure; he could not be allowed to go at liberty on account of his color; the laws of the State forbade such dangerous experiments on the feelings of the slave population; and if the Consul did not provide for him, he would be arrested and kept in prison, if no worse fate befell him. He was suffering from the effect of his wound, and was evidently in ill health. Mr. Mure gave him a letter to the Sailors' Hospital, and some relief out of his own pocket. The police came as far as the door with him, and remained outside to arrest him if the Consul did not afford him protection and provide for him, so that he should not be seen at large in the streets of the city. The other day a New Orleans privateer captured three northern brigs, on board which were ten free negroes. The captain handed them over to the Recorder, who applied to the Confederate States Marshal to take charge of them. The Marshal refused to receive them, whereupon the Recorder, as a magistrate and a good citizen, decided on keeping them in jail, as it would be a bad and dangerous policy to let them loose upon the community.

I cannot help feeling that the position taken by England in reference to the question of her colored subjects is humiliating and degrading. People who live in London may esteem this question a light matter; but it has not only been inconsistent with the national honor; it has so degraded us in the opinion of Americans themselves, that they are encouraged to indulge in an insolent tone and in violent acts towards us, which will some day leave Great Britain no alternative but an appeal to arms. Free colored persons are liable to seizure by the police, and to imprisonment, and may be sold into servitude under certain circumstances.

On arriving at the steamer, I found a considerable party of citizens assembled to see off their friends. Governor Roman's son apologized to me for his inability to accompany me up the river, as he was going to the drill of his company of volunteers. Several other gentlemen were in uniform; and when we had passed the houses of the city, I observed companies and troops of horse exercising on both sides of the banks. On board were Mr. Burnside, a very extensive proprietor, and Mr. Forstall, agent to Messrs. Baring, who claims descent from an Irish family near Rochestown, though he speaks our vernacular with difficulty, and is much more French than British. He is considered one of the ablest financiers and economists in the United States, and is certainly very ingenious, and well crammed with facts and figures.

The aspect of New Orleans from the river is marred by the very poor houses lining the quays on the levee. Wide streets open on long vistas bordered by the most paltry little domiciles; and the great conceptions of those who planned them, notwithstanding the prosperity of the city, have not been realised.

As we were now floating nine feet higher than the level of the streets, we could look down upon a sea of flat roofs, and low wooden houses, painted white, pierced by the domes and spires of churches and public buildings. Grass was growing in many of these streets. At the other side of the river there is a smaller city of shingle-roofed houses, with a background of low timber.

The steamer stopped continually at various points along the levee, discharging commissariat stores, parcels, and passengers; and after a time glided up into the open country, which spread beneath us for several miles at each side of the banks, with a continuous background of forest. All this part of the river is called the Coast, and the country adjacent is remarkable for its fertility. The sugar plantations are bounded by lines drawn at right angles to the banks of the river, and extending through the forest. The villas of the proprietors are thickly planted in the midst of the green fields, with the usual porticoes, pillars, verandas, and green blinds; and in the vicinity of each are rows of whitewashed huts, which are the slave quarters. These fields, level as a billiard table, are of the brightest green with crops of maize and sugar.

But few persons were visible; not a boat was to be seen; and in the course of sixty-two miles we met only two steamers. No shelving banks, no pebbly shoals, no rocky margins mark the course or diversify the outline of the Mississippi. The dead, uniform line of the levee compresses it at each side, and the turbid waters flow without let in a current of uniform breadth between the monotonous banks. The gables and summit of one house resemble those of another; and but for the enormous scale of river and banks, and the black faces of the few negroes visible, a passenger might think he was on board a Dutch “treckshuyt.” In fact, the Mississippi is a huge trench-like canal draining a continent.

At half past three P. M. the steamer ran alongside the levee at the right bank, and discharged me at “Cahabanooze,” in the Indian tongue, or “The ducks' sleeping-place,” together with an English merchant of New Orleans, M. La Ville Beaufevre, son-in-law of Governor Roman, and his wife. The Governor was waiting to receive us in the levee, and led the way through a gate in the paling which separated his ground from the roadside, towards the house, a substantial, square, two-storied mansion, with a veranda all round it, embosomed amid venerable trees, and surrounded by magnolias. By way of explaining the proximity of his house to the river, M. Roman told me that a considerable portion of the garden, in front had a short time ago been carried off by the Mississippi; nor is he at all sure the house itself will not share the same fate; I hope sincerely it may not. My quarters were in a detached house, complete in itself, containing four bedrooms, library, and sitting-room, close to the mansion, and surrounded, like it, by fine trees.

After we had sat for some time in the shade of the finest group, M. Roman, or, as he is called, the Governor — once a captain always a captain — asked me whether I would like to visit the slave quarters. I assented, and the Governor led the way to a high paling at the back of the house, inside which the scraping of fiddles was audible. As we passed the back of the mansion some young women flitted past in snow-white dresses, crinolines, pink sashes, and gaudily colored handkerchiefs on their heads, who were, the Governor told me, the domestic servants going off to a dance at the sugar-house; he lets his slaves dance every Sunday. The American planter, who are not Catholics, although they do not make the slaves work on Sunday except there is something to do, rarely grant them the indulgence of a dance, but a few permit them some hours of relaxation on each Saturday afternoon.

We entered, by a wicket-gate, a square enclosure, lined with negro huts, built of wood, something like those which came from Malta to the Crimea in the early part of the campaign. They are not furnished with windows — a wooden slide or grating admits all the air a negro desires. There is a partition dividing the hut into two departments, one of which is used as the sleeping-room, and contains a truckle bedstead and a mattress stuffed with cotton wool, or the hair-like fibres of dried Spanish moss. The wardrobes of the inmates hang from nails or pegs driven into the wall. The other room is furnished with a dresser, on which are arranged a few articles of crockery and kitchen utensils. Sometimes there is a table in addition to the plain wooden chairs, more or less dilapidated, constituting the furniture — a hearth, in connection with a brick chimney outside the cottage, in which, hot as the day may be, some embers are sure to be found burning. The ground round the huts was covered with litter and dust, heaps of old shoes, fragments of clothing and feathers, amidst which pigs and poultry were recreating. Curs of low degree scampered in and out of the shade, or around two huge dogs, chiens de garde, which are let loose at night to guard the precincts; belly deep, in a pool of stagnant water, thirty or forty mules were swinking in the sun and enjoying their day of rest.

The huts of the negroes engaged in the house are separated from those of the slaves devoted to field labor out of doors by a wooden paling. I looked into several of the houses, but somehow or other felt a repugnance, I dare say unjustifiable, to examine the penetralia, although invited — indeed, urged, to do so by the Governor. It was not that I expected to come upon anything dreadful, but I could not divest myself of some regard for the feelings of the poor creatures, slaves though they were, who stood by, shy, courtesying, and silent, as I broke in upon their family circle, felt their beds, and turned over their clothing. What right had I to do so?

Swarms of flies, tin cooking utensils attracting them by remnants of molasses, crockery, broken and old, on the dressers, more or less old clothes on the wall, these varied over and over again, were found in all the huts , not a sign of ornament or decoration was visible; not the most tawdry print, image of Virgin or Saviour; not a prayer-book or printed volume. The slaves are not encouraged, or indeed permitted to read, and some communities of slave-owners punish heavily those attempting to instruct them.

All the slaves seemed respectful to their master; dressed in their best, they courtesied, and came up to shake hands with him and with me. Among them were some very old men and women, the canker-worms of the estate, who were dozing away into eternity, mindful only of hominy, and pig, and molasses. Two negro fiddlers were working their bows with energy in front of one of the huts, and a crowd of little children were listening to the music, together with a few grown-up persons of color, some of them from the adjoining plantations. The children are generally dressed in a little sack of coarse calico, which answers all reasonable purposes, even if it be not very clean.

It might be an interesting subject of inquiry to the natural philosophers who follow crinology to determine why it is that the hair of the infant negro, or child, up to six or seven years of age, is generally a fine red russet, or even gamboge color, and gradually darkens into dull ebon. These little bodies were mostly large-stomached, well fed, and not less happy than free born-children, although much more valuable — for if once they get over juvenile dangers, and advance toward nine or ten years of age, they rise in value to £100 or more, even in times when the market is low and money is scarce.

The women were not very well-favored; one yellow girl, with fair hair and light eyes, whose child was quite white, excepted; the men were disguised in such strangely-cut clothes, their hats and shoes and coats so wonderfully made, that one could not tell what their figures were like. On all faces there was a gravity which must be the index to serene contentment and perfect comfort; for those who ought to know best declare they are the happiest race in the world.

It struck me more and more, however, as I examined the expression of the faces of the slaves, that deep dejection is the prevailing, if not universal, characteristic of the race. Here there were abundant evidences that they were well treated; they had good clothing of its kind, food, and a master who wittingly could do them no injustice, as he is, I am sure, incapable of it. Still, they all looked sad, and ever the old woman who boasted that she had held her old owner in her arms when he was an infant, did not smile cheerfully, as the nurse at home would have done, at the sight of her ancient charge.

The negroes rear domestic birds of all kinds, and sell eggs and poultry to their masters. The money is spent in purchasing tobacco, molasses, clothes, and flour; whiskey, their great delight, they must not have. Some seventy or eighty hands were quartered in this part of the estate.

Before leaving the enclosure I was taken to the hospital, which was in charge of an old negress. The naked rooms contained several flock beds on rough stands, and five patients, three of whom were women. They sat listlessly on the beds, looking out into space; no books to amuse them, no conversation — nothing but their own dull thoughts, if they had any. They were suffering from pneumonia and swellings of the glands of the neck; one man had fever. Their medical attendant visits them regularly, and each plantation has a practitioner, who is engaged by the term for his services. If the growth of sugar-cane, cotton, and corn, be the great end of man's mission on earth, and if all masters were like Governor Roman, slavery might be defended as a natural and innocuous institution. Sugar and cotton are, assuredly, two great agencies in this latter world. The older one got on well enough without them.

The scraping of the fiddles attracted us to the sugar-house, where the juice of the cane is expressed, boiled, granulated, and prepared for the refinery, a large brick building, with a factory-looking chimney. In a space of the floor unoccupied by machinery some fifteen women and as many men were assembled, and four couples were dancing a kind of Irish jig to the music of the negro musicians — a double shuffle in a thumping ecstasy, with loose elbows, pendulous paws, angulated knees, heads thrown back, and backs arched inwards — a glazed eye, intense solemnity of mien.

At this time of year there is no work done in the sugarhouse, but when the crushing and boiling are going on, the labor is intensely trying, and the hands work in gangs night and day; and, if the heat of the fires be superadded to the temperature in September, it may be conceded that nothing but “involuntary servitude” could go through the toil and suffering required to produce sugar.

In the afternoon the Governor's son came in from the company which he commands: his men are of the best families in the country — planters and the like. We sauntered about the gardens, diminished, as I have said, by a freak of the river. The French Creoles love gardens; the Anglo-Saxons hereabout do not much affect them, and cultivate their crops up to the very doorway.

It was curious to observe so far away from France so many traces of the life of the old seigneur — the early meals, in which supper took the place of dinner — frugal simplicity — and yet a refinement of manner, kindliness and courtesy not to be exceeded.

In the evening several officers of M. Alfred Roman's company and neighboring planters dropped in, and we sat out, in the twilight, under the trees in the veranda, illuminated by the flashing fireflies, and talking politics. I was struck by the profound silence which reigned all around us, except a low rushing sound, like that made by the wind blowing over cornfields, which came from the mighty river before us. Nothing else was audible but the sound of our own voices and the distant bark of a dog. After the steamer which bore us had passed on, I do not believe a single boat floated up or down the stream, and but one solitary planter, in his gig or buggy traversed the road, which lay between the garden palings and the bank of the great river.

Our friends were all Creoles — that is, natives of Louisiana — of French or Spanish descent. They are kinder and better masters, according to universal repute, than native Americans or Scotch; but the New England Yankee is reputed to be the severest of all slave owners. All these gentlemen to a man are resolute that England must get their cotton or perish. She will take it, therefore, by force; but as the South is determined never to let a Yankee vessel carry any of its produce, a question has been raised by Monsieur Baroche, who is at present looking around him in New Orleans, which causes some difficulty to the astute and statistical Mr. Forstall. The French economist has calculated that if the Yankee vessels be excluded from the carrying trade, the commercial marine of France and England together will be quite inadequate to carry Southern produce to Europe.

But Southern faith is indomitable. With their faithful negroes to raise their corn, sugar, and cotton, whilst their young men are at the wars; with France and England to pour gold into their lap with which to purchase all they need in the contest, they believe they can beat all the powers of the Northern world in arms. Illimitable fields, tilled by multitudinous negroes, open on their sight, and they behold the empires of Europe, with their manufactures, their industry, and their wealth, prostrate at the base of their throne, crying out, “Cotton! More cotton! That is all we ask!”

Mr. Forstall maintains the South can raise an enormous revenue by a small direct taxation; whilst the North, deprived of Southern resources, will refuse to pay taxes at all, and will accumulate enormous debts, inevitably leading to its financial ruin. He, like every Southern man I have as yet met, expresses unbounded confidence in Mr. Jefferson Davis. I am asked invariably, as the second question from a stranger, “Have you seen our President, sir? don't you think him a very able man?” This unanimity in the estimate of his character, and universal confidence in the head of the State, will prove of incalculable value in a civil war.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 252-60

Diary of Mary Brockenbrough Newton: Monday, May 26, 1862

A cry of "Yankees," this morning, sent us to the windows; there we saw a regiment of Lancers, one of regulars, one of rifles, and another of zouaves, composed of the most dreadful-looking creatures I ever beheld, with red caps and trowsers; also two guns. They were on their way to the Wyoming bridge, which they destroyed, and then made a reconnoissance of the Court House road. On their return they called here, boasting that they had killed one of our men; they advised M. to hang out a white flag to protect her house, which she, of course, declined doing.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 137-8

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith, May 8, 1862

HEADQUARTERS 54TH REGIMENT O. V. INF.,

CAMP NO. 5 1N THE FIE1D, May 8, 1862.

I notice the printers make terrible havoc with my name. They call me Kelly, and Kirby, and F. Kirby, and the Lord only knows what else, but I can generally be identified as the Smith who led the Second Brigade on Monday, and that directly under Sherman's eye, and in conjunction with the celebrated Rousseau Brigade. A good many of the local papers up through the country have complimented both the regiment and myself. These, of course, you do not see, but I would advise you to take all of the Cincinnati papers for a while, and look out for official reports of both Sherman and General Stuart. I have not written full details of the battle to you for two reasons. One that I had very little time and one that I thought you would get fuller details through the newspapers. The battle is getting somewhat stale now anyhow. The next one I will try harder.

While I write there is an incessant roar of artillery, heavy siege guns. We made a sortie this morning and had a brush with the enemy's pickets. My Zouaves killed three of them, wounded five, and brought in four prisoners. Our brigade, the Second of the Fifth Division, consisting now of only Colonel Stuart's regiment and mine, is clear in the advance of the whole army and the nearest to Corinth. We heard for two nights the whistle of the cars very plainly. Cannon are playing all the time, and I think a great battle not far off. General Sherman has been made a Major-General, a promotion he well deserves. You must not believe all the newspapers say of him; he is a splendid officer and a most excellent, good man. I have every confidence in him. I sat by his side on horseback for an hour on Monday of that terrible battle while shot and shell, cannon, cannister, and Minieballs rained and rattled all about us. Scores of horses and men killed, and falling so close that the dead and dying piled all up about our horses, his cheek never blanched. He never for a moment lost his coolness. His hand was badly wounded by a piece of shell. He quietly went on giving his orders as if nothing had happened. A few minutes before I joined him he had three horses killed under him. A braver man I never saw, and I saw him in the thickest of it. If you note the official returns, you will discover that the Sherman Division lost a great many more in killed and wounded than either of the other divisions. I had intended to write mother, but have just received orders to get my regiment in marching trim. We go forward, and this time, I think, no halt till we storm the batteries of Corinth. You must make the latter part of this letter do for her. I think of her always, in the still camp at nightfall, on the march, or in the din of conflict her image is always in my heart. I have written very often to her, it is strange she does not receive my letters. She asks for details of my regiment, these she must get from the newspapers. Even they, or those who have written for them, admit my men fought most gallantly. I took three hundred and ninety into the field, of these one hundred and ninety fell killed or wounded. Ask her to search the papers for detailed report General Sherman, and Colonel Stuart, which ought to accompany it. Part of this has been published in the New York Herald. The Illinois papers publish accounts of the 54th. You know, but must write mother, for she, I suppose, has not heard it, that the regiment stood on Sunday under a murderous fire for four hours and a half; that the 55th Illinois and the 54th Ohio with about eight hundred and fifty men were attacked by an entire division, admitted by intelligent prisoners, surgeons, and others to contain nearly ten thousand, with cavalry and artillery, led by some of their best generals; Hardee among the number; that we stood till our ammunition was all exhausted, and then fell back in good order for more; that while standing, we piled the ground with the enemy's dead; that we made two of their regiments break and run, who in running were received on the bayonets of their own men, who forced them back. On Wednesday one thousand five hundred of their dead were buried in one little ravine where they fell. Towards the last and when ammunition got scarce, my Zouaves never fired a shot without drawing a cool bead; and no shot was fired, for we were within less than one hundred yards of them, that a rebel did not bite the dust. We fell back, were reinforced with ammunition, formed a line, and in the rear of the batteries fought till dark. We lay on our arms in the rain and rose to fight all day Monday, and on Monday evening we were in the advance of the army, and the last to stop under orders in pursuit of the fleeing foe. We lay on our arms Monday night, and were in the line of battle again on Tuesday, and on Wednesday we marched forth to bring in thirty-two prisoners.

Individual acts of heroism were performed by men and officers of my regiment that have never been excelled in song or story. There is none to tell the tale for them, and they are too modest to puff themselves. You will not find details, but you will find the main facts in the reports I have spoken of, and these you must hunt up and read. I am considered by my superior officers to have done my duty, and I have their confidence, God has been good in preserving my life.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 201-4

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to his sister Helen, April 14, 1862

HEADQUARTERS 54TH REG1MENT O. V. I.,

CAMP SHILOH, TENNESSEE, April 14, 1862.

MY DEAR SISTER:

Well, my dear Helen, the great fight has been fought; I have had my part in it, and, save a slight scratch not worth mentioning, have come out safe. The papers, of course, teem with accounts, which you have doubtless read until you are satisfied; but, at the risk of stale news, I will give you my experience of the battle, of which I believe I saw as much as “any other man.”

On the Thursday preceding, my command had been ordered upon a most fatiguing night march, which lay for six miles through a dense swamp to a point near a ford, where we lay for some hours in ambuscade for the purpose of taking a body of rebel cavalry. On Friday we marched back to camp. On Saturday, nearly the whole regiment was turned out on fatigue duty to build some bridges and a road to cross artillery, and on Saturday night I was ordered to hold my command in readiness for an expedition to march as early as eight o'clock on Sunday. All this service was intensely fatiguing to the officers and harassing to the men, but to the last order I probably owe my life, for, having been prompt in its execution and my horse being saddled, no sooner had the long roll sounded, than my men were in line. The attack was very sudden, and within three minutes our tents were literally riddled with the balls of the enemy's skirmishers. We marched the battalion to a kind of peninsula formed by a dense ravine on the one side and a creek on the other, and there formed the line of battle.

From the fatigue duty I have spoken of, and certain camp epidemics prevalent, our forces had been very much weakened, and we took into the field but about fifteen hundred men. To this force were opposed eight thousand of the enemy's infantry, supported by artillery and cavalry. Now, to the better understanding of my account, you must recollect what I have before written you, that the Second Brigade of Sherman's Division occupied the extreme left wing of the army, whose front lines extended many miles; that my regiment occupied the extreme left of the brigade, and observe that the enemy having surprised the centre which was broken, and having routed and captured the greater part of Prentiss’ command, to whom we looked for support, stole down our front and attempted to outflank us, and now at about nine o'clock on Sunday morning we joined battle. Having seen by my glass the vastly superior force of the enemy, I determined to sell our lives as dearly as possible, but never to surrender, and ordered my Zouaves to lie on their bellies, and, waiting the attack, not to fire until the foe was within twenty yards. We were ranged along the brow of the hill, slightly covered with a small growth of timber, and between us and the advancing ranks was an open plain. On they came, steadily, and save the tread of the well-trained soldiers, led by General Hardee in person, not a sound was heard; at last they were upon us, and then commenced the deafening roar of volley after volley; for four hours and a half the deadly hand-to-hand conflict raged. (I took 390 enlisted men into battle, I left 187 upon the field, killed or badly wounded, but from me they took no prisoners. The 71st Ohio . . . abandoned us early in the action, but the 55th Illinois were staunch. The brigade lost 587 killed and wounded, but most of these are from the 54th Ohio and 55th Illinois). At last our ammunition began to fail, and I never shall forget the despairing looks of some of the boys, who would come clustering around my horse and say, “Colonel, what shall I do; my cartridges are all out?” But, fortunately, the enemy's fire began to slack. My men all fired low, every man made his mark, and though our own men could hardly get round among their own killed and wounded, the field was strewn thick with the dead of the foe. By this time I was in command of the brigade, Colonel Stuart having been wounded and compelled to retire. I fell back in good order for better position and until I could be reinforced with ammunition; my forty rounds were all gone. At last an orderly from General Grant came up to promise the required supply and to order us to a position at which we could cover a battery. I forgot to tell you that the enemy had planted a battery upon a height, commanding our first position, and were shelling us all the while the first fight was going on. One of my horses was struck once by a piece of shell and twice by rifle balls. No sooner had we taken position by the batteries than the attack was renewed with greater vigor than ever; but now the heavy guns from the gunboats in our rear began to throw their shells clean over us and into the ranks of the enemy; never was sweeter music to my ears than their thunder; the shades of night drew on, the enemy began to slacken fire, and, as shell after shell dropped and burst in their midst, gradually retired. Our men dropped exhausted on their arms; all day the battle had raged, all day they had suffered privation of food and drink, and now began to fall a copious shower of rain, which lasted steadily till morning; through that shower without a murmur they slept, and the next morning at seven o'clock I, having been formally placed in command of the brigade by order of General Sherman, began the march towards the right wing, where we were to take position. General Nelson, who with General Buell had brought up reinforcements during the night, had commenced manoeuvres at daybreak. As early as eight o'clock my brigade was in the line of battle and under a heavy fire of shell. At about nine o'clock we were ordered into action, which was hotly contested all the day long. About four o'clock I was ordered to the command of another brigade, or, more properly, a concentration of skeleton regiments, which I had got into line, and, leaving my own command with Lieutenant-Colonel Malmborg, carried my new command far into an advanced position, then returning, brought up my own brigade upon the left of Shiloh Chapel. Now the Pelican flag began to waver and droop. All the day long we, that is, my immediate command, were opposed to the “Crescent City Guards,” the pet regiment of Beauregard, to whom in the morning he had made his whole army present arms, and whose flag he had at the same time planted, saying of us, the Northern army, “Thus far, but no farther shalt thou go”; vain boast; at even tide, like a gull upon the crest of the wave in the far-off ocean, it fluttered and went down.

I drew my forces up in good order under the eye of General Sherman, and Monday night again under a most drenching shower, which lasted all the night through, the men even now without food or drink lay upon their arms, and on Tuesday morning were again in line; the enemy had gone, but not their occupation; all day they stood guard upon the outposts, and the next day we marched the whole regiment onward for three miles and a half to bring in the wounded of the enemy. That day I took thirty-two prisoners, and brought in the bodies of an Arkansas colonel and Major Monroe, of Kentucky, the latter one of the most distinguished men of the State, and both of them I had decently interred. Oh, Helen, if you had seen the horrors of that battle, as I saw them when the rage of battle had passed, the heaps of slain, the ghastly wounds, had you heard the groans of the dying, had you seen the contortions of men and horses; but why dwell on the theme which abler writers will so vividly portray? I have given you one hasty sketch of the humble part it was my good fortune to be able to play in one of the greatest dramas of the age. Thank God for me, for in His infinite mercy He alone has preserved me in the shock of battle; pray for me always. One more conflict, and I leave a memory for my children or make a name for myself. My flag is still unstained, my honor still bright.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 195-8

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to his sister Helen, March 4, 1862

HEADQUARTERS 54TH REGT. O. V. I. U. S. A.,

ENCAMPMENT NEAR PADUCAH, KY., March 4, 1862.

MY DEAR SISTER HELEN:

You must not any of you be alarmed for my personal safety. I am just as well cared for as if I was by your side in New York, the same good God is above me here as there. My health is excellent, I am only troubled for the loved ones at home. In one of your letters to Lizzie you speak of having heard of my regiment from Washington. I have never permitted it to be puffed through the newspapers, and have only wanted it to win its laurels honestly; but I assure you that it is the finest and best drilled regiment that ever left Ohio, and has been complimented by General Sherman, the Commandant of the Post, as the best regiment in the division here, some fourteen thousand strong. My men have been carefully selected for the Zouave drill — for I suppose that you are aware that it is a Zouave regiment — have been picked out for their youth and physical strength and activity, and I assure you in its ranks may be found some of the most splendid specimens of manly beauty. Their uniform is very handsome, though not as fantastic as the Zouaves you have seen about New York. They have dark-blue jackets, reaching to the hips, trimmed with red; light blue trousers with red stripes down the sides, and white gaiters, reaching some three inches above the ankle. Gray felt hats, low-crowned, and looped at the side with bright red tassels; some of them wear very fancy hats or caps, without vizor or brim, which with the streaming tassel makes them very picturesque. Their overcoats are bright indigo blue, with large capes. They are a splendid, brave, handsome set of fellows. My officers are certainly very handsome men, all of them, and among them men of fine talent, almost all accomplished as amateurs in music, drawing, and all that sort of thing. Some of them are good poets. We often have Shakesperian readings. I send an impromptu got off the other night by one of the lieutenants. . . . A society to which he belonged in college was called the "Owl," and he was requested to deliver a poem. Upon the spur of the moment he wrote that which I enclose and offer as a fair sample of the talent under my command.

My regiment is splendidly armed with the Vincennes rifle, and the troops are in fine spirits. Still there are troubles and trials and bitter vexations attendant upon a command which no one but he who has been through, can appreciate or estimate. Immense responsibility, gross ingratitude, no thanks for almost superhuman efforts, and the constant necessity for coolness, patience, forbearance, and the cultivation of a skin as thick as that of a rhinoceros. . . .

You will expect me to write you some war news; that I cannot do, for it is prohibited. I can tell you that I sent a detachment from my regiment to co-operate with a detachment from another command to occupy Columbus; and I can tell you that one of my lieutenants who was detailed on secret service has just returned from Forts Henry and Donaldson. He corroborates the published accounts of the fight at Donaldson, which was brilliant. Our troops fought under a most terrific hail of shot and shell; some five thousand on both sides were killed and wounded. You learn all these things through the newspapers, however, which relate them much better than I can.

The weather at this point is very changeable. We have had some lovely spring-like days, but to-day is bitterly cold, and yesterday we had snow and rain. March is a disagreeable month, I believe everywhere. It has always been disagreeable to me, wherever I have been.

Paducah was, before it became the seat of war, a beautiful town of some ten thousand inhabitants, among whom was a vast deal of wealth, exhibited in their fine mansions and sumptuous furniture. Very many of the private dwellings, luxurious in their appointments, the Court House, and other public buildings, have been taken for the use of the army. Elegant shade trees have been or are being cut down for fuel; gardens and lawns laid waste; beautiful palings torn down, and devastation made the order of the day. Most of the inhabitants who have been able to do so have gone away. The character of the people is decidedly "Secesh." The town is, of course, under martial law, civil courts for the present abolished, and no citizen can come or go without a pass from the Provost Marshal. A company is detailed from my regiment each day, whose duty it is, in connection with other forces, to guard all the points and lines of ingress and egress to and from the town, with orders to guard and search suspicious persons. All this gives one a full realization of war, which you in the Eastern cities have not yet had brought home to you, and which I trust you may never see. . . .

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 186-8

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith, November 1, 1861

REGIMENTAL HEADQUARTERS 54TH R. O. V. U. S. A.,

CAMP DENNISON, OHIO, Nov. 1, 1861.

Stephen¹ is to the fore and doing well. He plays many parts, hostler, body servant, cook, groom, laundress, seamstress, secretary, steward, and boy about the tent, and has taken to soldiering with such a vim that half the time when I want him I find him standing on his head with a musket between his teeth, swallowing a sword or plunging a bayonet into a zouave. He carries arms openly and above board to his great delight, the only drawback to his perfect happiness being the disability in the way of uniform — an officer's, of course — for he has an unearthly, morbid, and uncontrollable contempt for a private soldier, whom he looks upon as little better than a dog.

I have just received a letter from the Adjutant-General notifying me that the Governor of Ohio has promoted me to the colonelcy, so I suppose I am a step higher in the estimation of somebody. One thing is certain, my boys and I have got as bloody a set of preaching, praying, stealing, fighting, riproaring zouaves as the war turns out. . . .  You would laugh sometimes if you were here to listen to the rascals yelling . . . for the "old Colonel," as they call me.

__________

¹ His body servant.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 176

General Phelps

A ship Island correspondent of the Gloucester Telegraph sketches Gen. Phelps’ peculiarities after the flowing fashion:

“Gen. Phelps is a character.  He is perfectly democratic in his habits.  Many a Colonel, and even captains, would do well to follow his simplicity and style.  He lives in a common tent, which is pitched close by the sidewalk, with nothing to distinguish it but a sentinel who paces before it during only the day.  Close by is what I supposed for some time to be a traveling daguerreotype saloon, but at last found out was his office.  He does not have a bed but takes his blanket and sleeps on the floor.  His food is common soldier’s fare.  One of our Lieutenants heard him the other day tell what a nice dish of rice and molasses he had for supper the night before.  He dresses with great plainness, has but one servant and does not even keep a horse.  He takes only his monthly pay from the government and all his allowances he turns into the treasury.  He says that extravagance is ruining the government, and he will not be a party to it.  Every officer he holds to a strict account, especially the Quartermasters.  No one can do anything that he does not have an oversight of.  He has made the Zouaves doff their showy trappings and don the regular uniform.  He puts the officers through in great shape, and does not hesitate to blow them up on parade when they deserve it.  To his men he is very kind and lenient, and is much beloved by them all.  He has a rich Yankee drawl in his voice which it makes one laugh to hear.  This model General honored me with a brief speech on parade the other day, to-wit: ‘Sergeant, turn about and stand perfectly still.  Don’t budge and inch.’”

– Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Thursday Morning, May 8, 1862, p. 2

General Phelps

A Ship Island correspondent of the Gloucester Telegraph sketches Gen. Phelps’ peculiarities after the following fashion:

“Gen. Phelps is a character. He is perfectly democratic in his habits. Many a Colonel and even a captain, would do well to follow his simplicity of style. He lives in a common tent, which is pitched close by the sidewalk, with nothing to distinguish it but a sentinel who paces before it during only the day. Close by is what I supposed for some time to be a travelling daguerreotype saloon, but at last found out that it was his office. He does not have a bed, but takes his blanket and sleeps on the floor. His food is common soldier’s fare. One of our Lieutenants heard him the other day tell what a nice dish of rice and molasses he had for supper the night before. He dresses with great plainness, has but one servant, and does not even keep a horse. He takes only his monthly pay from the government, and all his allowances he turns into the treasury. He says that extravagance is ruining the government, and he will not be a party to it. Every officer he holds to strict account, especially the Quartermasters. No one can do anything that he does not have an oversight of. He has made the Zouaves doff their showy trappings and don the regulation uniform. He puts the officers through in great shape, and does not hesitate to blow them up on parade when they deserve it. To his men he is very kind and lenient, and is much beloved by them all. He has a rich Yankee drawl in his voice which makes one laugh to hear. This model General honored me with a brief speech on parade the other day, to-wit: “Sergeant, turn about and stand perfectly still. Don’t budge an inch.”

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, May 3, 1862, p. 4