Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, February 28, 1865

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, February 28, 1865.

After writing to you yesterday I saw the Secretary, who was as usual very kind. He apologized for ordering me away when he did, and said he had forgotten dear Sergeant's sickness, and some telegrams coming from Ord he did not like, he thought, in Grant's absence, I had better be there. He wanted me to stay in Washington over night, but I declined, when he directed a special steamer to be got ready to take me at seven in the evening. From the Department I went to the Capitol, where I saw Mr. Cowan and Judge Harris. They both said they would see that the same number of copies of the proceedings of the court of inquiry were ordered to be printed as had been ordered of the committee's report.

I had a pleasant journey, there being no one on board but General Wheaton and myself. We reached City Point at 1 P. M. to-day. I spent two hours with General Grant, reaching my headquarters about half-past four this afternoon.

I find we have not been attacked, and Petersburg has not been evacuated, although I should judge there had been a stampede ever since I left, and that both contingencies had been expected. It has been raining, I am told, nearly all the time I have been absent, and the roads are in an awful condition.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 265

Lieutenant-Colonel John T. L. Preston to Margaret Junkin Preston, May 12, 1861

Harper's Ferry, May 12 (1861).

Precious Wife, — As far as I know, I am in for the war, and cannot say when I will see you again. It would surprise you to see with what flexibility I adapt myself to my new circumstances. I did not know before how well I could get through work which is new to me, nor did I know how much technical acquaintance with military matters I had absorbed (for I never paid the least attention to them) by my life-long connection with the Institute. At all events, I have been for a week, since Massie's absence, acting as chief aid, settling all manner of questions for colonels, majors, and captains, and sometimes when Jackson was absent looking after his fortifications, acting as commander-in-chief. (Don't repeat such things to anybody.) We have regular and earnest war, in all but the battle, that has not come yet. The preparatory arrangements for war are more difficult and responsible than the battle itself, and the indirect evils are more to be deplored than the positive loss of life. Don't I long for my dear wife and children? Indeed I do. Tell George I have got my big sword sharpened up now, and ride a nice horse.  . . . I have not heard a single word from you, but I know you do not forget to think of and pray for me. God bless us all.

Your Husband.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 118

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 31, 1861

I arrived in Richmond about 1 o'clock P.M. The meeting with my family was a joyful scene. All were well.

I lost no time in securing rooms for the department in the new custom-house. Mr. Giles had been employed in this business by the Congressional Committee, and I found him every way accommodating. I succeeded without difficulty in convincing him that the War Department was the most important one, and hence entitled to the first choice of rooms. I therefore selected the entire suites on both sides of the hall on the lower floor. The Treasury, the Executive office, Cabinet chamber, and Departments of Justice and the Navy were located on the floor above. This arrangement, however, was understood to be but a temporary one; Mechanics Hall was leased for future purposes; and I was consulted on the plan of converting it into suites of offices.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 46

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 27, 1861

Mrs. Davis's drawing-room last night was brilliant, and she was in great force. Outside a mob called for the President. He did speak — an old war-horse, who scents the battle-fields from afar. His enthusiasm was contagious. They called for Colonel Chesnut, and he gave them a capital speech, too. As public speakers say sometimes, “It was the proudest moment of my life.” I did not hear a great deal of it, for always, when anything happens of any moment, my heart beats up in my ears, but the distinguished Carolinians who crowded round told me how good a speech he made. I was dazed. There goes the Dead March for some poor soul.

To-day, the President told us at dinner that Mr. Chesnut's eulogy of Bartow in the Congress was highly praised. Men liked it. Two eminently satisfactory speeches in twenty-four hours is doing pretty well. And now I could be happy, but this Cabinet of ours are in such bitter quarrels among themselves — everybody abusing everybody.

Last night, while those splendid descriptions of the battle were being given to the crowd below from our windows, I said: “Then, why do we not go on to Washington?” “You mean why did they not; the opportunity is lost.” Mr. Barnwell said to me: “Silence, we want to listen to the speaker,” and Mr. Hunter smiled compassionately, “Don't ask awkward questions.”

Kirby Smith came down on the turnpike in the very nick of time. Still, the heroes who fought all day and held the Yankees in check deserve credit beyond words, or it would all have been over before the Joe Johnston contingent came. It is another case of the eleventh-hour scrape; the eleventh-hour men claim all the credit, and they who bore the heat and brunt and burden of the day do not like that.

Everybody said at first, “Pshaw! There will be no war." Those who foresaw evil were called ravens, ill-foreboders. Now the same sanguine people all cry, “The war is over” — the very same who were packing to leave Richmond a few days ago. Many were ready to move on at a moment's warning, when the good news came. There are such owls everywhere.

But, to revert to the other kind, the sage and circumspect, those who say very little, but that little shows they think the war barely begun. Mr. Rives and Mr. Seddon have just called. Arnoldus Van der Horst came to see me at the same time. He said there was no great show of victory on our side until two o'clock, but when we began to win, we did it in double-quick time. I mean, of course, the battle last Sunday.

Arnold Harris told Mr. Wigfall the news from Washington last Sunday. For hours the telegrams reported at rapid intervals, “Great victory,” " Defeating them at all points.” The couriers began to come in on horseback, and at last, after two or three o'clock, there was a sudden cessation of all news. About nine messengers with bulletins came on foot or on horseback — wounded, weary, draggled, footsore, panic-stricken — spreading in their path on every hand terror and dismay. That was our opportunity. Wigfall can see nothing that could have stopped us, and when they explain why we did not go to Washington I understand it all less than ever. Yet here we will dilly-dally, and Congress orate, and generals parade, until they in the North get up an army three times as large as McDowell's, which we have just defeated.

Trescott says, this says this victory will be our ruin.  It lulls us into a Fool’s Paradise of conceit at our superior valor, and the shameful farce of their flight will wake every inch of their manhood. It was the very fillip they needed. There are a quieter sort here who know their Yankees well. They say if the thing begins to pay—government contracts, and all that—we will never hear the end of it, at least, until they get their pay in some way out of us. They will not lose money by us. Of that we may be sure. Trust Yankee shrewdness and vim for that.

There seems to be a battle raging at Bethel, but no mortal here can be got to think of anything but Manassas. Mrs. McLean says she does not see that it was such a great victory, and if it be so great, how can one defeat hurt a nation like the North.

John Waties fought the whole battle over for me. Now I understand it. Before this nobody would take the time to tell the thing consecutively, rationally, and in order. Mr. Venable said he did not see a braver thing done than the cool performance of a Columbia negro. He carried his master a bucket of ham and rice, which he had cooked for him, and he cried: “You must be so tired and hungry, marster; make haste and eat.” This was in the thickest of the fight, under the heaviest of the enemy's guns.

The Federal Congressmen had been making a picnic of it: their luggage was all ticketed to Richmond. Cameron has issued a proclamation. They are making ready to come after us on a magnificent scale. They acknowledge us at last foemen worthy of their steel. The Lord help us, since England and France won't, or don't. If we could only get a friend outside and open a port.

One of these men told me he had seen a Yankee prisoner, who asked him “what sort of a diggins Richmond was for trade.” He was tired of the old concern, and would like to take the oath and settle here. They brought us handcuffs found in the debacle of the Yankee army. For whom were they? Jeff Davis, no doubt, and the ringleaders. “Tell that to the marines.'” We have outgrown the handcuff business on this side of the water.

Dr. Gibbes says he was at a country house near Manassas, when a Federal soldier, who had lost his way, came in exhausted. He asked for brandy, which the lady of the house gave him. Upon second thought, he declined it. She brought it to him so promptly he said he thought it might be poisoned; his mind was; she was enraged, and said: “Sir, I am a Virginia woman. Do you think I could be as base as that? Here, Bill, Tom, disarm this man. He is our prisoner.” The negroes came running, and the man surrendered without more ado.

Another Federal was drinking at the well. A negro girl said: “You go in and see Missis.” The man went in and she followed, crying triumphantly: “Look here, Missis, I got a prisoner, too!” This lady sent in her two prisoners, and Beauregard complimented her on her pluck and patriotism, and her presence of mind. These negroes were rewarded by their owners.

Now if slavery is as disagreeable to negroes as we think it, why don't they all march over the border where they would be received with open-arms? It all amazes me. I am always studying these creatures. They are to me inscrutable in their way and past finding out. Our negroes were not ripe for John Brown.

This is how I saw Robert E. Lee for the first time: though his family, then living at Arlington, called to see me while I was in Washington (I thought because of old Colonel Chesnut's intimacy with Nellie Custis in the old Philadelphia days, Mrs. Lee being Nelly Custis's niece), I had not known the head of the Lee family. He was somewhere with the army then.

Last summer at the White Sulphur were Roony Lee and his wife, that sweet little Charlotte Wickam, and I spoke of Roony with great praise. Mrs. Izard said: “Don't waste your admiration on him; wait till you see his father. He is the nearest to a perfect man I ever saw.” “How?” “In every way — handsome, clever, agreeable, high-bred.”

Now, Mrs. Stanard came for Mrs. Preston and me to drive to the camp in an open carriage. A man riding a beautiful horse joined us. He wore a hat with something of a military look to it, sat his horse gracefully, and was so distinguished at all points that I very much regretted not catching his name as Mrs. Stanard gave it to us. He, however, heard ours, and bowed as gracefully as he rode, and the few remarks he made to each of us showed he knew all about us.

But Mrs. Stanard was in ecstasies of pleasurable excitement. I felt that she had bagged a big fish, for just then they abounded in Richmond. Mrs. Stanard accused him of being ambitious, etc. He remonstrated and said his tastes were “of the simplest.”  He only wanted “a Virginia farm, no end of cream and fresh butter and fried chicken — not one fried chicken, or two, but unlimited fried chicken.”

To all this light chat did we seriously incline, because the man and horse and everything about him were so fine-looking; perfection, in fact; no fault to be found if you hunted for it. As he left us, I said eagerly, “Who is he?” “You did not know! Why, it was Robert E. Lee, son of Light Horse Harry Lee, the first man in Virginia,” raising her voice as she enumerated his glories. All the same, I like Smith Lee better, and I like his looks, too. I know Smith Lee well. Can anybody say they know his brother? I doubt it. He looks so cold, quiet, and grand.

Kirby Smith is our Blücher; he came on the field in the nick of time, as Blucher at Waterloo, and now we are as the British, who do not remember Blücher. It is all Wellington. So every individual man I see fought and won the battle. From Kershaw up and down, all the eleventh-hour men won the battle; turned the tide. The Marylanders — Elzey & Co. — one never hears of — as little as one hears of Blücher in the English stories of Waterloo. Mr. Venable was praising Hugh Garden and Kershaw's regiment generally. This was delightful. They are my friends and neighbors at home. I showed him Mary Stark's letter, and we agreed with her. At the bottom of our hearts we believe every Confederate soldier to be a hero, sans peur et sans reproche.

Hope for the best to-day. Things must be on a pleasanter footing all over the world. Met the President in the corridor. He took me by both hands. “Have you breakfasted?” said he. “Come in and breakfast with me?” Alas! I had had my breakfast.

At the public dining-room, where I had taken my breakfast with Mr. Chesnut, Mrs. Davis came to him, while we were at table. She said she had been to our rooms. She wanted Wigfall hunted up. Mr. Davis thought Chesnut would be apt to know his whereabouts. I ran to Mrs. Wigfall's room, who told me she was sure he could be found with his regiment in camp, but Mr. Chesnut had not to go to the camp, for Wigfall came to his wife's room while I was there. Mr. Davis and Wigfall would be friends, if— if—

The Northern papers say we hung and quartered a Zouave; cut him into four pieces; and that we tie prisoners to a tree and bayonet them. In other words, we are savages. It ought to teach us not to credit what our papers say of them. It is so absurd an imagination of evil. We are absolutely treating their prisoners as well as our own men: we are complained of for it here. I am going to the hospitals for the enemy's sick and wounded in order to see for myself.

Why did we not follow the flying foe across the Potomac? That is the question of the hour in the drawing-room with those of us who are not contending as to “who took Rickett's Battery?” Allen Green, for one, took it. Allen told us that, finding a portmanteau with nice clean shirts, he was so hot and dusty he stepped behind a tree and put on a clean Yankee shirt, and was more comfortable.

The New York Tribune soothes the Yankee self-conceit, which has received a shock, by saying we had 100,000 men on the field at Manassas; we had about 15,000 effective men in all. And then, the Tribune tries to inflame and envenom them against us by telling lies as to our treatment of prisoners. They say when they come against us next it will be in overwhelming force. I long to see Russell's letter to the London Times about Bull Run and Manassas. It will be rich and rare. In Washington, it is crimination and recrimination. Well, let them abuse one another to their hearts' content.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 90-6

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: Thursday, October 24, 1861

An account reached us to-day of a severe fight last Monday (21st), at Leesburg — a Manassas fight in a small way. The Federals, under General Stone, came in large force to the river; they crossed in the morning 8,000 or 10,000 strong, under command of Colonel Baker, late Senator from Oregon. They came with all the pomp and circumstance of glorious war, and rushed on as if to certain victory over our small force. “But when the sun set, where were they?” They were flying back to Maryland, that her hills might hide and her rocks shelter them. They crowded into their boats, on their rafts; multitudes plunged into the water and swam over; any thing, any way, that would bear them from “old Virginia's shore.” Our men were in hot pursuit, firing upon them incessantly, until the blue waters of the Potomac ran red with blood. It was a “famous victory,” as old Caspar would say, and I am thankful enough for it; for if they come to kill us, we must kill or drive them back. But it is dreadful to think of the dead and the dying, the widows and the orphans. Mr. William Randolph, who brought us this account, says there were between five and six hundred prisoners, a number of wounded, and 400 killed and drowned—among them Colonel Baker killed. They had no business here on such an errand; but who, with a human heart, does not feel a pang at the thought that each one had somebody to grieve for him — somebody who will look long for the return of each one of the four hundred! The account goes on to state with exultation, that we lost but twenty-seven killed. There are but twenty-seven bereaved households in the length and breadth of this Confederacy from this one fight — a great disparity, and very few considering the violence of the fight; but it is difficult to think with composure of the lacerated hearts in those twenty-seven homes!

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 69-70

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Saturday, April 9, 1864

It is cool and quite pleasant. I stayed at home all day and did some writing (brought my army diary up to date). The farmers are still lying by waiting for the weather and the ground to get fit for seeding. There is no news of any importance from the army.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 178

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: July 5, 1864

At daylight this morning the boat got under way, pushing on up the great Ohio. Passed the towns, Middlesport, Pomeroy, Syracuse, on the Ohio side, and Hartford, West Virginia. The farther up the river we go, have more trouble with low water. Sand bars are many. Again obliged to wade ashore. Later, go on board a smaller boat. It seems to make good time as it pushes along. Reported the boat will push along all night. This will close our second day on the water. A very pleasant and interesting trip. A good rest, good food, and very plenty. We are now in good condition, ready for duty. This will no doubt be our last night on board the boat. Another good rest, provided all things go well with us during the night.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 93-4

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: Sunday, March 11, 1862

Issued rations. Wrote a letter to Theodore and read some. Commenced a letter to Fannie. Helped bring wood.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 9

101st Indiana Infantry

Organized at Wabash, Ind., and mustered in September 7, 1862. Left State for Covington, Ky., September 7, and duty there till September 23. Moved to Louisville, Ky., September 23. Attached to 33rd Brigade, 10th Division, Army of the Ohio, September, 1862. 33rd Brigade, 10th Division, 1st Corps, Army of the Ohio, to November, 1862. 2nd Brigade, 5th Division (Centre), 14th Army Corps, Army of the Cumberland, to January, 1863. 2nd Brigade, 5th Division, 14th Army Corps, Army of the Cumberland, to June, 1863. 2nd Brigade, 4th Division, 14th Army Corps, to October, 1863. 2nd Brigade, 3rd Division, 14th Army Corps, to June, 1865. 1st Brigade, 3rd Division, 14th Army Corps,to June, 1865.

SERVICE. – Pursuit of Bragg into Kentucky October 1-15, 1862. Escort Division trains to Springfield, Ky. March to Munfordsville, Ky., October 12, and duty there till November 30. Expedition to Cave City October 31-November 26. Moved to Bledsoe Creek November 30. Pursuit of Morgan December 22, 1862, to January 2, 1863. March to Nashville, Tenn., thence to Murfreesboro, Tenn., January 3-11, and duty there till June. Expedition to Auburn, Liberty and Alexandria February 3-5. Reconnoissance to Woodbury March 3-8. Action at Vaught's Hill, near Milton, March 20. Expedition to Lebanon, Carthage and Liberty April 1-8. Expedition to McMinnville April 20-30. Middle Tennessee (or Tullahoma) Campaign June 23-July 7. Hoover's Gap June 24-26. Camp at Dechard till August 17. Passage of the Cumberland Mountains and Tennessee River and Chickamauga (Ga.) Campaign August 17-September 22. Shellmound August 21. Narrows, near Shellmound, August 28 (Detachment). Reconnoissance from Shellmound toward Chattanooga August 29-30. Battle of Chickamauga September 19-21. Siege of Chattanooga, Tenn., September 22-November 23. Before Chattanooga September 22-26. Chattanooga-Ringgold Campaign November 23-27. Orchard Knob November 23-24. Mission Ridge November 25. Duty at Chattanooga and Ringgold, Ga., till May, 1864. Reconnoissance from Ringgold, Ga., toward Tunnel Hill April 29. Atlanta (Ga.) Campaign May 1 to September 8. Demonstrations on Rocky Faced Ridge May 8-11. Battle of Resaca May 14-15. Advance on Dallas May 18-25. Operations on line of Pumpkin Vine Creek and battles about Dallas, New Hope Church and Allatoona Hills May 25-June 5. Allatoona Pass June 1-2. Operations about Marietta and against Kenesaw Mountain June 10-July 2. Pine Hill June 10-14. Lost Mountain June 15-17. Assault on Kenesaw June 27. Ruff's Station July 4. Chattahoochie River July 5-17. Peach Tree Creek July 19-20. Siege of Atlanta July 22-August 25. Utoy Creek August 5-7. Flank movement on Jonesboro August 25-30. Battle of Jonesboro August 31-September 1. Lovejoy Station September 2-6. Operations against Hood in North Georgia and North Alabama September 29-November 3. March to the sea November 15-December 10. Cypress Swamp, near Sister's Ferry, December 7. Siege of Savannah December 10-21. Campaign of the Carolinas January to April, 1865. Fayetteville, N. C., March 11. Taylor's Hole Creek, Averysboro, March 16. Battle of Bentonville March 19-21. Occupation of Goldsboro March 24. Advance on Raleigh April 10-14. Bennett's House April 26. Surrender of Johnston and his army. March to Washington, D.C., via Richmond, Va., April 29-May 19. Grand Review May 24. Moved to Louisville, Ky., and there mustered out June 24, 1865.

Regiment lost during service 3 Officers and 47 Enlisted men killed and mortally wounded and 1 Officer and 169 Enlisted men by disease. Total 220.

SOURCE: Frederick H. Dyer, A Compendium of the War of the 3, p. Rebellion, Part 1153

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: Sunday Night, October 20, 1861

To-day went to church, and heard an admirable sermon from Mr. J. As we returned, we called at the post-office, and received a newspaper from Dr. Drane, of Tennessee, in which is recorded the death of his son James. He belonged to the army in Western Virginia, and died there of typhoid fever. He was one of the late pupils of the E. H. S., a most amiable, gentlemanly youth; and it seems but as yesterday that I saw him, light-hearted and buoyant, among his young companions. He is constantly before my mind's eye. His parents and young sister — how my heart bleeds for them! Our poor boys! What may not each battle bring forth? Scarcely a battalion of the army, in any part of the Confederacy, where they are not.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 69

Major John T. L. Preston to Margaret Junkin Preston, December 2, 1859

Charlestown, December 2, 1859.

. . . The execution is over. We have just returned from the field, and I sit down to give you some account of it. The weather was very favorable: the sky was a little overcast, with a little haze in the atmosphere that softened without obscuring the magnificent prospect afforded here. Between eight and nine o'clock the troops began to put themselves in motion to occupy the positions assigned to them on the field, as designated on the plan I send you. To Colonel Smith had been assigned the superintendence of the execution, and he and his staff were the only mounted officers on the ground, until the major-general and his staff appeared. By ten o'clock all was arrayed. The general effect was most imposing, and at the same time picturesque. The Cadets were immediately in rear of the gallows, with a howitzer on the right and left, a little behind, so as to sweep the field. They were uniformed in red flannel shirts, which gave them a gay, dashing, Zouave look, exceedingly becoming, especially at the Battery. They were flanked obliquely by two corps, the Richmond Greys and Company F, which, if inferior in appearance to the Cadets, were superior to any other company I ever saw outside the regular army. Other companies were distributed over the field, amounting in all to perhaps 800 men. The military force was about 1500.

The whole enclosure was lined by cavalry troops, posted as sentinels, with their officers — one on a peerless black horse, and another on a remarkable looking white horse — continually dashing around the enclosure. Outside this enclosure were other companies acting as rangers and scouts. The jail was guarded by several companies of infantry, and pieces of artillery were put in position for defense.

Shortly before eleven o'clock, the prisoner was taken from the jail and the funeral cortege was put in motion. First came three companies — then the criminal's wagon, drawn by two large white horses. John Brown was seated on his coffin, accompanied by the sheriff and two other persons. The wagon drove to the foot of the gallows, and Brown descended with alacrity, and without assistance, and ascended the steep steps to the platform. His demeanor was intrepid, without being braggart. He made no speech: whether he desired to make one or not I do not know. Had he desired it, it would not have been permitted. Any speech of his must of necessity have been unlawful, as being directed against the peace and dignity of the Commonwealth, and, as such, could not be allowed by those who were then engaged in the most solemn and extreme vindication of Law. His manner was free from trepidation, but his countenance was not without concern, and it seemed to me to have a little cast of wildness. He stood upon the scaffold but a short time, giving brief adieus to those about him, when he was properly pinioned, the white cap drawn over his face, the noose adjusted and attached to the hook above, and he was moved blindfold a few steps forward. It was curious to note how the instincts of nature operated to make him careful in putting out his feet, as if afraid he would walk off the scaffold. The man who stood unblenched on the brink of eternity was afraid of falling a few feet to the ground!

He was now all ready. The sheriff asked him if he should give him a private signal, before the fatal moment. He replied in a voice that sounded to me unnaturally natural — so composed was its tone and so distinct its articulation — that “it did not matter to him, if only they would not keep him too long waiting.” He was kept waiting, however. The troops that had formed his escort had to be put in their proper position, and while this was going on, he stood for ten or fifteen minutes blindfold, the rope around his neck, and his feet on the treacherous platform, expecting instantly the fatal act. But he stood for this comparatively long time up right as a soldier in position, and motionless. I was close to him, and watched him narrowly, to see if I could perceive any signs of shrinking or trembling in his person. Once I thought I saw his knees tremble, but it was only the wind blowing his loose trousers. His firmness was subjected to still further trial by hearing Colonel Smith announce to the sheriff, “We are all ready, Mr. Campbell.” The sheriff did not hear, or did not comprehend, and in a louder tone the announcement was made. But the culprit still stood steady, until the sheriff, descending the flight of steps, with a well-directed blow of a sharp hatchet, severed the rope that held up the trap-door, which instantly sank sheer beneath him, and he fell about three feet. And the man of strong and bloody hand, of fierce passions, of iron will, of wonderful vicissitudes, — the terrible partisan of Kansas — the capturer of the United States Arsenal at Harper's Ferry — the would-be Catiline of the South — the demigod of the Abolitionists — the man execrated and lauded — damned arid prayed for — the man who in his motives, his means, his plans, and his successes must ever be a wonder, a puzzle, and a mystery — John Brown was hanging between heaven and earth.

There was profoundest stillness during the time his struggles continued, growing feebler and feebler at each abortive attempt to breathe. His knees were scarcely bent, his arms were drawn up to a right angle at the elbow, with the hands clinched; but there was no writhing of the body, no violent heaving of the chest. At each feebler effort at respiration, the arms sank lower, and his legs hung more relaxed, until at last, straight and lank he dangled, swayed slightly to and fro by the wind.

It was a moment of deep solemnity, and suggestive of thoughts that make the bosom swell. The field of execution was a rising ground that commanded the outstretching valley from mountain to mountain, and their still grandeur gave sublimity to the outline, while it so chanced that white clouds resting upon them gave them the appearance that reminded more than one of us of the snow peaks of the Alps. Before us was the greatest array of disciplined forces ever seen in Virginia, infantry, cavalry, and artillery combined, composed of the old Commonwealth's choicest sons, and commanded by her best officers, and the great canopy of the sky, overarching all, came to add its sublimity — ever present, but only realized when great things are occurring beneath it.

But the moral of the scene was the great point. A sovereign State had been assailed, and she had uttered but a hint, and her sons had hastened to show that they were ready to defend her. Law had been violated by actual murder and attempted treason, and that gibbet was erected by Law, and to uphold Law was this military force assembled. But greater still, God's holy law and righteous will was vindicated. “Thou shalt not kill.” “Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed.” And here the gray-haired man of violence meets his fate, after he has seen his two sons cut down before him earlier in the same career of violence into which he had introduced them. So perish all such enemies of Virginia! all such enemies of the Union! all such foes of the human race! So I felt, and so I said, without a shade of animosity, as I turned to break the silence, to those around me. Yet the mystery was awful — to see the human form thus treated by men — to see life suddenly stopped in its current, and to ask one's self the question without answer, “And what then?”

In all that array there was not, I suppose, one throb of sympathy for the offender. All felt in the depths of their hearts that it was right. On the other hand there was not one word of exultation or insult. From the beginning to the end, all was marked by the most absolute decorum and solemnity. There was no military music, no saluting of troops as they passed one another, nor anything done for show. The criminal hung upon the gallows for nearly forty minutes, and after being examined by a whole staff of surgeons, was deposited in a neat coffin, to be delivered to his friends, and transported to Harper's Ferry, where his wife awaited it. She came in company with two persons to see her husband last night, and returned to Harper's Ferry this morning. She is described by those who saw her as a very large masculine woman, of absolute composure of manner. The officers who witnessed their meeting in the jail, said they met as if nothing unusual had taken place, and had a comfortable supper together.

Brown would not have the assistance of any minister in the jail, during his last days, nor their presence with him on the scaffold. In going from prison to the place of execution, he said very little, only assuring those who were with him that he had no fear, nor had he at any time of his life known what fear was. When he entered the gate of the enclosure, he expressed his admiration of the beauty of the surrounding country, and pointing to different residences, asked who were the owners of them.

There was a very small crowd to witness the execution. Governor Wise and General Taliaferro both issued proclamations exhorting the citizens to remain at home and guard their property, and warning them of possible danger. The train on the Winchester railroad had been stopped from carrying passengers; and even passengers on the Baltimore railroad were subjected to examination and detention. An arrangement was made to divide the expected crowd into recognized citizens and those not recognized; to require the former to go to the right, and the latter to the left. Of the latter there was not a single one. It was told that last night there were not in Charlestown ten persons besides citizens and military.

There is but one opinion as to the completeness of the arrangements made on the occasion, and the absolute success with which they were carried out. I have said something of the striking effect of the pageant, as a pageant; but the excellence of it is that everything was arranged solely with a view to efficiency, and not for the effect upon the eye. Had it been intended for a mere spectacle, it could not have been more imposing: had actual need occurred, it was the best possible arrangement.

You may be inclined to ask, Was all this necessary? I have not time to enter upon that question now. Governor Wise thought it necessary, and he said he had reliable information. The responsibility of calling out the force rests with him. It only remained for those under him to dispose the force in the best manner. That this was done is unquestionable, and whatever credit is due for it may be fairly claimed by those who accomplished it.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 111-7

Brigadier-General John A. Rawlins to Mary Emeline Hurlburt Rawlins, February 9, 1864

Nashville, February 9, 1864.

. . . I have written to no one at Washington to look after my confirmation nor sought to influence any one to that end, being content to discharge my duty in any position and with any rank the authorities see fit to confer upon me to the best of my abilities at all times. I doubt not my confirmation, however. Standing as I do in the near relation to General Grant, and the wholesome influence I am supposed to exercise for his good, which is not unknown personally to several gentlemen of great influence in Washington, and who are to be found both in Congress and in the War Department and belonging to both political parties, I do not fear the result. If I am not confirmed I will necessarily go out of the service or fall back to my rank as assistant adjutant general with the rank of major, my lieutenant-colonelcy being assignable rank only. My impression is that a failure in confirmation will leave me a civilian. In that event I shall at least visit “dear wife and children” before seeking another position in the army. I have never sought promotion, but on the contrary declined a colonelcy when it was offered to me and accepted a majority. To be put out of service with no fault or seeking of my own could attach to me no stain of dishonor or semblance of faltering in this hour of darkness and peril. I am therefore without anxiety as to the action of the Senate in my case. I enclose my proper address.

I shall begin to-morrow in connection with Colonel Bowers to copy up General Grant's official report of the battles of Chattanooga. . . .

SOURCE: James H. Wilson, The Life of John A. Rawlins, p. 396-7

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, August 19, 1864

August 19, 1864

To-day I have been with the General to General Warren, who with the 5th Corps seized the Weldon railroad yesterday. It is touching a tiger's cubs to get on that road! They will not stand it. Warren had a severe fight yesterday at midday, but they could not get him off. All was quiet this morning towards the railroad. Mott¹ got in, through the mud, about seven, and began at once to relieve the 9th Corps, which was not an easy matter, for the covered way was, in many places, waist-deep in water, so the troops had to march up as well as they could, keeping behind hills, etc. The enemy opened on them with artillery but it was rather too late, and the columns were already pretty well out of reach. At noon the General started to go out to visit the scene of action. It was raining steadily, and we went slop, slop along. Near the Cheever house was a damp brigade of Potter's division, halted. The General ordered me to tell it to move on, as it might be needed. General Potter himself was near by at General White's Headquarters.  . . . After which I was fain to gallop briskly to catch up with the Staff, which was jogging along the Williams house road.  . . . Cutting through a skirt of wood, we came on a very large, flat, open farm, on which is the Globe Tavern,² and through which runs the railroad. .  . . General Warren had a narrow escape in the fight of yesterday. His horse was struck directly between the eyes by a minie ball. If his head had been down, there would have been nothing to save the General's body. The Corps [Warren's] was then formed in form of two sides of a rectangle, the longer arm lying across the railroad, the shorter parallel to it. It could scarcely fail to strike me that, while his left flank was well protected, his right was “in the air,” having nothing in connection with it but the picket line. However, as I am not a military critic, I thought no more of it. The enemy did think a good deal of it. In front of the position were dense woods, on its left a fine open tract, and, on the right, a wood separated it from the open farm of the Aiken house. We left at 3.30, and returned by the way we came. Both going and coming I quite expected to see the picket line tumbling in on top of us, and was not surprised, as we rode along near the Aiken house, to hear a number of dropping shots to our left. Just after we got to the plank road, we could hear the cannon opening, which continued a short time and then ceased. During the said short time was enacted one of those disgraceful surprises which we have in such perfection. The enemy, making a front attack, at the same moment threw a strong column down a road leading past the Linear house and outside our right flank. They smashed through the picket line, passed down the road, faced to their right, and rushed, yelling and firing, into the open fields, in rear of our right wing. Met here by a fire of artillery and reserve troops, they themselves fell into confusion, and rushing back through our lines, like a great tide, carried out to sea at least 2000 of our men, including most of our gallant little regular brigade with its commander, General Hayes. To be sure we drove them off and held the railroad, but we ought to have taken all that flanking column.³

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¹ Ordered back from Deep Bottom.

² Where they found Warren.

³ “The position was faulty! Warren should have corrected it, and Meade should have known it!” — Lyman's Journal.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 217-20

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, February 27, 1865

War Department, Washington City, 12 M., February 27, 1865.

I take advantage of a delay, waiting to see the Secretary, to send you a few lines. I slept nearly all the journey, much to my surprise; but I was grateful it was so, as I feel in consequence much better than if I had lain awake all night.

Hardy Norris was very kind to me this morning, and accompanied me to the hotel, where we breakfasted, after which I came up here.

General Hancock left suddenly yesterday for Western Virginia. This has given rise to rumor of movements of Lee in that direction, but I have heard nothing reliable in this respect. I saw General Hooker this morning at breakfast. He was very affable and civil, and enquired particularly after you, expressing deep sympathy with us in our affliction. This feeling has been manifested by all whom I have met, including Senator Foster, Mr. Odell and others.

I hardly dare think of you in your lonely condition, surrounded by so many associations of our beloved boy. God have mercy on you and send you submission and resignation! No human reasoning can afford you or myself any consolation. Submission to God's will, and the satisfaction arising from the consciousness that we did our duty by him, is all that is left us.

I shall leave here at 3 P. M., and will write to you on my arrival at my headquarters.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 264-5

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Friday, April 8, 1864

Another wet day and I stayed at home all day. It is so lonesome that I almost wish I was back in the army; although if I did not have to go back, I could enjoy myself a great deal better. May God hasten the day when this cruel war will be fought to a close, so that the soldiers may return to their homes and friends. What a cruel thing this war is! Think of the thousands of our brave men suffering in the hospitals and in the camps, and many being killed on the battlefield. And yet, think of the everlasting Copperheads in the North, how they sympathize with the South! Such men as they are not fit to be compared with the negroes of the South! I would like to see such men as they are be made to go down there and fight for the South, and be compelled to live on mule beef at that!

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 178

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, August 18, 1864

August 18, 1864

Last night I had got well into the first sound sleep, when images of war began to intrude on my dreams, and these, taking on a more corporeal form, gradually waked me enough to prove to my mind that there was a big racket going on. The noise of a few shells and many muskets I don't mind, as I am used to it, but, when it comes to firing heavy mortar shells in salvos, one is authorized to sit up in bed, even if it is one in the morning. Once awake, I recognized the fact that the largest kind of a cannonade was going on. The still, damp air was filled with the detonations of all sorts of big guns and projectiles. It was quite as extensive as the firing on the morning of the mine and sounded very much louder, in the night. Our side replied rather moderately, but the enemy kept up one roar of batteries for some two hours, and the air was full of the humming and bursting of the shells. At the end of that time they stopped, rather suddenly. We expended some 1500 rounds of ammunition and they must have fired much more, and all to kill and wound thirty men.  . . . The great joke of the matter was, that General Meade (who is a sound sleeper, and was a little deaf from a cold in the head) remained calmly in the arms of Morpheus, till a telegraph from Grant at City Paint, came in, asking what all that firing was about! It so happened that the General woke just at a lull in the cannonade; so he didn't understand the despatch, but called the officer of the night to know if he had heard any more firing than usual! You should have seen the deshabille parade of officers in the camp: such a flitting of figures in a variety of not much clothing! General Humphreys said: “Yes, perhaps it would be well to have the horses saddled; for,” he added with a hopeful smile, “we may have a scrimmage, you know.” But he was disappointed, and we all went to bed again.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 216-7

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, February 21, 1865

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, February 21, 1865.

I told George¹ last evening to write to you and acknowledge the receipt of your letters of the 17th and 18th, also your telegram of the 20th. The latter I did not understand until this evening, when George received a letter from Jim Biddle, of the 19th, from which I infer Sergeant was considered sinking on Sunday, and finding him better on Monday, you telegraphed. George will leave to-morrow, and will take this. It is impossible for me to go to you, unless I resign my command. If I left for a short time, I should undoubtedly be recalled almost as soon as I reached there. Besides, to be with you for a few days would be but little satisfaction to you; and as to dear Sergeant,² his condition is such that I presume it does not make much difference who is with him. For your sake I should like to be home, and for my own, but it is God's will, and I must submit.

My duty to you and my children requires I should retain the high command I now have. My reputation and your interests are involved, and I cannot shut my eyes to these considerations, however cruel may be the conclusion that I cannot be at your side and that of my dear boy in this hour of agony and trial. We must all endeavor to be resigned to God's will. We cannot avert the severe affliction with which it has pleased Him to visit us, doubtless for some good purpose. All we can do is to bear it with humility and resignation, and endeavor to profit by it, in preparing ourselves, as I believe my beloved son is prepared.

Dear Margaret, let me rely on your exhibiting in this, the greatest trial you have had in life, true Christian fortitude. Bear up, in the consciousness that you have ever devoted all the energy of a tender mother's love to check and avert the fatal disease that is carrying off our first born; all that human power could do has been done. Our boy has had warning, and not only his good life, but the consciousness that he knew and was prepared for the change, should sustain us in that parting which had to be encountered one day, for we all must die in time.

George will tell you all about me.³

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¹ Son of General Meade.

² Son of General Meade.

³ General Meade left headquarters at 12 o'clock noon, on February 21, for Philadelphia, and arrived there at 10 P. M., on the 23d. Before General Meade had reached his home the newspapers announced the death of his son Sergeant on the 21st instant at 11 P. M. General Meade left Philadelphia at 11 P. M. on the 26th for the army, having been hurriedly sent for by the Secretary of War.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 263-4

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Thursday, April 7, 1864

It rained all day, and I remained at home. As the boys are all down with the measles, I am helping father with the farm work between showers.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 178

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw, May 28, 1863

Camp, May 28, 1863.

I am expecting another horse out of town, — a horse which I have just bought in expectation of selling Nig. Nig is very pleasant, but has not quite as much character (obstinacy, perverseness) as I like, — I do not fancy horses who do not at the outset resist, but they must be intelligent enough to know when they are conquered, and to recognize it as an advance in their civilization.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 249

Diary of Josephine Shaw Lowell: September 22, 1862

God bless Abraham Lincoln. He has issued a proclamation emancipating all slaves on the 1st of January, 1863, in any State then in rebellion against the Government. Father and George think it's splendid and believe fully in its wisdom and effects, but Mother fears it won't be as well as if he had emancipated on the spot, although of course she rejoices in the step. Howard went for the papers this morning and proclaimed the news aloud as he appeared, thereby upsetting the equilibrium of the family. Old Abe is wise and I guess this will work.

SOURCE: William Rhinelander Stewart, The Philanthropic Work of Josephine Shaw Lowell, p. 34-5

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 29 and 30, 1861

The remainder of the journey was without interest, until we arrived at Wythville, Va., where it was discovered Gen. Floyd was in the cars. He was called out and made a speech in vindication of his conduct at Washington, as Secretary of War, wherein he had caused the transfer of arms, etc. from the North to the South. He was then organizing a brigade for the field, having been commissioned a brigadier-general by the President.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 46

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 24, 1861

Here Mr. Chesnut opened my door and walked in. Out of the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh. I had to ask no questions. He gave me an account of the battle as he saw it (walking up and down my room, occasionally seating himself on a window sill, but too restless to remain still many moments); and told what regiments he was sent to bring up. He took the orders to Colonel Jackson, whose regiment stood so stock still under fire that they were called a “stone wall.” Also, they call Beauregard, Eugene, and Johnston, Marlboro. Mr. Chesnut rode with Lay's cavalry after the retreating enemy in the pursuit, they following them until midnight. Then there came such a fall of rain — rain such as is only known in semitropical lands.

In the drawing-room, Colonel Chesnut was the “belle of the ball”; they crowded him so for news. He was the first arrival that they could get at from the field of battle. But the women had to give way to the dignitaries of the land, who were as filled with curiosity as themselves — Mr. Barnwell, Mr. Hunter, Mr. Cobb, Captain Ingraham, etc.

Wilmot de Saussure says Wilson of Massachusetts, a Senator of the United States,¹ came to Manassas, en route to Richmond, with his dancing shoes ready for a festive scene which was to celebrate a triumph. The New York Tribune said: “In a few days we shall have Richmond, Memphis, and New Orleans. They must be taken and at once.” For “a few days” maybe now they will modestly substitute “in a few years.”

They brought me a Yankee soldier's portfolio from the battle-field. The letters had been franked by Senator Harlan.¹ One might shed tears over some of the letters. Women, wives and mothers, are the same everywhere. What a comfort the spelling was! We had been willing to admit that their universal free-school education had put them, rank and file, ahead of us literarily, but these letters do not attest that fact. The spelling is comically bad.

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¹ Henry Wilson, son of a farm laborer and self-educated, who rose to much prominence in the Anti-Slavery contests before the war. He was elected United States Senator from Massachusetts in 1855, holding the office until 1873, when he resigned, having been elected Vice-President of the United States on the ticket with Ulysses S. Grant.

² James Harlan, United States Senator from Iowa from 1855 to 1865. In 1865 he was appointed Secretary of the Interior.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 88-90

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: October 16, 1861

We had a pleasant evening. While N. read the papers we were knitting for the soldiers. An account is given of some small successes. Our men, near Pensacola, have broken up the camp of “Billy Wilson's Zouaves,” of which we have heard so much; and Captain Hollins of the navy has broken the blockade at New Orleans, sunk the “Vincennes,” and captured a sloop, without the least damage to himself and men. Rosecranz has retreated before our men at Big Sewell Mountain. For these things we desire to be truly grateful, without rejoicing in the misfortunes of our enemies, except as they tend to the welfare of our invaded and abused country.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 68-9

Diary of Major Rutherford B. Hayes: October 10, 1861

Camp Ewing, seven miles above Gauley Bridge. — A pretty day in a pleasant camp, surrounded by mountain scenery. We had a false alarm in Camp Lookout; formed in line of battle. I was at the hospital but rode rapidly up and was on hand before the line was ready. Some men at hospital fled. Some were suddenly well and took [their] place in line of battle.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 114

Brigadier-General John A. Rawlins to Mary Emeline Hurlburt Rawlins, February 8, 1864

Nashville, February 8, 1864.

. . . I am delighted to know that my friends both in the city and country are so kind to you, and also to hear that so many are my friends. I have ever tried to pursue an upright, honorable course through life, that I might always be enabled to look those whom I may meet full in the face without fear of discovering in the countenance or looks of any an expression of “You have done wrong,” either in my personal treatment of them or in my failure to discharge my duty, my whole duty to my country to the utmost of my ability. . . .

SOURCE: James H. Wilson, The Life of John A. Rawlins, p. 396

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, August 16, 1864

August 16, 1864

I have been well content to get your letter this afternoon. In regard to what you say for the troops for the assault,¹ it is true that General Meade should have ordered in the best — and so he did. Express orders were given to put in the best troops and have the division generals lead them if necessary. General Meade made examinations in person of the enemy's lines, and the orders drawn up by General Humphreys were more than usually elaborated. People have a vulgar belief that a General commanding a great army can, and ought to arrange in person every detail. This is not possible, nor is it desirable; the corps and division commanders would at once say: “Very well, if you have not enough confidence in me to let me carry on the ordinary business of my command, I ought to be relieved.” I see great discussion in the papers as to the conduct of the negroes. I say, as I always have, that you never, in the long run, can make negroes fight with success against white men. When the whole weight of history is on one side, you may be sure that side is the correct one. I told General Meade I had expressed myself strongly, at home, against the imported Dutchmen, to which he replied: “Yes, if they want to see us licked, they had better send along such fellers as those!” As I said before, the Pats will do: not so good as pure Yanks, but they will rush in and fight. There was a report at first that Colonel Macy of the 20th Massachusetts was mortally wounded, but I have since heard that it is not so. On Sunday, he had command of a brigade, and had his horse killed: he then came back, got another horse from Barlow and returned to the front. This horse either was shot or reared over with him, frightened by the firing, and crushed him badly. Let me see, I told you this before; never mind, you will be sure now to know it. Sometimes I get rather mixed because I write often a few words about a day, on the eve of the same, and then detail it more at length afterwards. The Rebels got well alarmed about Hancock and sent reinforcements, recalling troops that had started to help Early in the valley; an important point gained. Hancock had some hard fighting to-day, with considerable success, taking several hundred prisoners and driving the enemy. The Rebel General Chambliss was killed, and we found on him a valuable map containing the fortifications of Richmond. They also are said to have killed a General Gherrard; but I have an idea there is no such General in their service.² Perhaps he was a new appointment, or a colonel commanding a brigade. As to giving you an account of the engagement, it would be out of the question; as it is a perfect muddle to me. I only know that Gregg, with a cavalry division, went out on the Richmond road, to within six and one half miles of the city, and encountered a big crowd of infantry and had to come back. Barlow had to leave his division, sick, and go to friend Dalton, at City Point.

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¹ When the mine was exploded.

² It was Brig. Gen. Victor J. B. Girardey.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 214-6

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, February 13, 1865

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, February 13, 1865.

There is no chance for peace now. The South has determined to fight another campaign, and it is to be hoped the North will be equally united, and turn out men to fill up all our present armies and form others at the same time.

Grant returned from Washington to-day. He forgot to say anything about the court of inquiry, so I have to-day telegraphed Mr. Stanton, asking him to have the proceedings published.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 263

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Wednesday, April 6, 1864

I went to Tipton to attend the celebration of the 6th of April, the day on which two years ago we fought the battle of Shiloh. I went with a team, taking a load of the young people of the community with me. The roads were awfully muddy and once we stuck in the mud. The citizens gave a dinner in honor of the veterans of Company E, and though I cannot brag on the dinner, there were a great many present. Although we had a muddy time of it, yet all seemed to enjoy themselves. At a meeting in the court house in the afternoon, Major Foster of the Eleventh Iowa delivered a speech before a large audience.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 178

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 28, 1861

Little or no business was done this day. The Secretary announced that no more communications would be considered by him in Montgomery. He placed in my charge a great many unopened letters, and a special list of candidates for office, with annotations. These I packed in my trunk.

As I was to precede the Secretary, and having some knowledge of the capacity of the public buildings in Richmond, I was charged with the duty of securing, if possible, suitable offices for the Department of War. I made hasty preparations for departure.

Before starting, something prompted me to call once more at the post-office, where, to my surprise and delight, I found a letter from my wife. She was in Richmond, with all the children, Tabby and the parrot. She had left Burlington about the same time I had left Richmond. At Havre-de-Grace, on the Susquehanna, which they crossed in the night, my youngest daughter was compelled with difficulty to stride over the sleeping bodies of Yankee soldiers. She writes that she deposited, very carefully, our plate in the bank! The idea that all might have been brought off if she had only known it, is the source of her wretchedness. She writes that she had been materially assisted by Mr. Grubb and his lady, prompted by personal friendship, by humanity, and by those generous instincts of the true nobility of heart imparted by the Creator. Mr. G. is true to the Constitution and the Government under which he lives — and would doubtless never consent to a rupture of the Union under any circumstances. He has a son in the army against us. And Col. Wall, another personal friend, boldly shook hands with my family at parting, while the Wide-Awake file leaders stood scowling by. I hope he may not suffer for his temerity.

These things occupied my thoughts during a sleepless night in the cars. My abode in New Jersey had been a pleasant one. I had a fine yard and garden, and many agreeable neighbors. I loved my garden, and cultivated my own grapes, pears, peaches, apples, raspberries, currants, and strawberries. I had fruits and vegetables in the greatest profusion. And the thrushes and other migratory birds had come to know me well, and sang me to sleep at night, and awakened me with their strains in the morning. They built their nests near the windows, for the house was embowered in trees, and half covered with ivy. Even my cats, for every living thing was a pet to some one of the family, — when I think of them now, wandering about unprotected, give rise to painful emotions. But even my youngest child was willing to make any sacrifice for the sake of her country. The South is our only home — we have been only temporary sojourners elsewhere.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 45-6

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: Tuesday, July 23, 1861

Witnessed for the first time a military funeral. As that march came wailing up, they say Mrs. Bartow fainted. The empty saddle and the led war-horse — we saw and heard it all, and now it seems we are never out of the sound of the Dead March in Saul. It comes and it comes, until I feel inclined to close my ears and scream.

Yesterday, Mrs. Singleton and ourselves sat on a bedside and mingled our tears for those noble spirits — John Darby, Theodore Barker, and James Lowndes. To-day we find we wasted our grief; they are not so much as wounded. I dare say all the rest is true about them — in the face of the enemy, with flags in their hands, leading their men. “But Dr. Darby is a surgeon.” He is as likely to forget that as I am. He is grandson of Colonel Thomson of the Revolution, called, by way of pet name, by his soldiers, “Old Danger.'” Thank Heaven they are all quite alive. And we will not cry next time until officially notified.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 88

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: October 12, 1861

M. P. and myself drove to Millwood for the mail, and then made an agreeable visit to Mr. and Mrs. J. We found several letters from family and friends; one from my sister, Mrs. C, who with her whole family (except her sons,) married daughters and single, are about to rent the Presbyterian Parsonage, in Hanover, and keep house. As they are all refugees, and have the means, it is a most pleasant idea. The Rev. Mr. H., who was the occupant of the house, has gone to the army as captain of a company which he raised for the purpose.

The papers mentioned the capture of a vessel called “The Fanny,” on the coast of North Carolina, laden with blankets, greatcoats, arms and ammunition. A most valuable prize.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 68

Major Rutherford B. Hayes to William A. Platt, October 9, 1861

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

Mountain Cove, Six Miles Above Gauley Bridge,

October 9, 1861.

Dear Brother: — We are now near or at the point where an entrenched camp for winter quarters is to be established. It will command the main entrance to the head of the Kanawha Valley, and can be held by a small force; is within a day's ride of navigable waters connecting with Cincinnati, and telegraphic communication nearly completed. From half to two-thirds of the men in western Virginia can be spared as soon as a few days' work is done. Indeed, green regiments just recruited could take care of this country and release soldiers who have been hardened by some service. Our regiment is second to no other in discipline, and equal in drill to all but two or three in western Virginia. We think it would be sensible to send us to Kentucky, Missouri, or the sea coast for the winter. We can certainly do twice the work that we could have done four months ago, and there is no sense in keeping us housed up in fortifications and sending raw troops into the field. In Kentucky, disciplined troops — that is, men who are obedient and orderly — are particularly needed. A lot of lawless fellows plundering and burning would do more hurt than good among a Union people who have property. We have met no regiment that is better than ours, if any so good.

Now, the point I am at is, first, that a large part of the soldiers here can be spared this winter; second, that for service, the best ought to be taken away. With these two ideas safely lodged in the minds of the powers that be, the Twenty-third is sure to be withdrawn. If you can post the Governor a little, it might be useful.

We are pleasantly associated. My mess consists of Colonel Scammon, Lieutenant-Colonel Matthews, Drs. Clendenin and Webb. The general (Schenck) and staff quarter in our regiment, so that we have the best of society. My connection with General Rosecrans' staff, I manage to make agreeable by a little license. I quarter with my regiment, but am relieved from all but voluntary regimental duty. I think I have never enjoyed any period of my life as much as the last three months. The risks, hardships, separation from family and friends are balanced by the notion that I am doing what every man, who possibly can, ought to do, leaving the agreeable side of things as clear profit. My health has been perfect. A great matter this is. We have many sick, and sickness on marches and in camps is trebly distressing. It makes one value health. We now have our sick in good quarters and are promised a ten days' rest. The weather today is beautiful, and I don't doubt that we shall get back to good condition in that time.

Your election yesterday, I hope, went overwhelmingly for “Tod and Victory.” We talked of holding an election here, but as we liked Jewett personally, it was not pushed. We should have been unanimous for the war ticket.

Letters now should be sent to Gauley Bridge. Love to all.

Sincerely,

R. B. Hayes.*

Wm. A. Platt.

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* This letter was placed in the Governor's hands for his information. It was then sent to Mrs. Hayes, who on October 23 forwarded it to Mr. Birchard. In her accompanying letter Mrs. Hayes wrote that she had seen Colonel Matthews, who had told her that “Rutherford was almost the only man who had not been sick or affected some by the campaign, that he was perfectly well and looking better than ever.” Mrs. Hayes tries bravely to conceal her sense of loneliness, but it appears unmistakably in her closing paragraph where she writes: “We would be so glad to see you. Yours and Rutherford's room is waiting — the books are lonely and everybody and everything would meet you so gladly.”

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 112-4

Brigadier-General John A. Rawlins to Mary Emeline Hurlburt Rawlins, February 7, 1864

Nashville, February 7, 1864.

. . . General Grant has determined to go himself in command of the forces to operate against Longstreet, and we shall leave here for Knoxville within ten or twelve days. I feel he should go. It is too important a matter to trust entirely to others, however competent they may be, for should they fail the country will ask why he was not there.

So far as any news is received, all is quiet in our front to-day. Captain Leet is home on furlough. I don't know whether I mentioned it in my previous letters. He is a fine officer, and I flatter myself for procuring his promotion from a private in the ranks to the position he now fills so well. . . .

SOURCE: James H. Wilson, The Life of John A. Rawlins, p. 396

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, August 14, 1864

August 14, 1864

. . . General Parke got back from his sick leave and took command of the 9th Corps. He is a very pleasant-looking man and liked apparently by everyone. He has been obliged twice to return to the North by reason of malarial attacks, which is a pity, as he acted usually as adviser to General Burnside and had an excellent effect on him. He cured himself twice of malarial fever by accidentally taking an overdose of medicine. The last time, he had been told to take one pill, containing something very strong; but made a mistake and took four. After which he was somewhat surprised to find his face making a great many involuntary grimaces, and his body feeling uncommonly uncomfortable. However, next day he was all well, and the doctor told him it was a good dose to take, provided it did not unfortunately happen to kill him. Captain Fay took out the cits to-day, in an ambulance, and showed them the lines. After which the youth Falls was seized with a noble ambition to ride on horseback in company of Captain Guzman. Being provided with a hard trotter, he came near tumbling off, at the first start, and was obliged to change horses and perform the rest of the journey at a mild pace.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 213-4

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, February 11, 1865

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, February 11, 1865.

I see the Tribune, with its usual malice, charges the recent movement as a failure, and puts the blame on me. I told Grant, before the movement was made, it would be misunderstood and called a failure. But he promised to telegraph to Washington what we intended to do, thinking by this to avoid this misapprehension. His telegram, if he sent one, was never published, nor has any of his or my telegrams to him about the affair been made public. Now, the facts of the case are that I accomplished a great deal more than was designed, and though the Fifth Corps at one time was forced back, yet we repulsed the enemy the day before, had been driving him all that day, and the next day drove him into his works, and on the whole the success was with us. It is rather hard under these circumstances to be abused; but I suppose I must make up my mind to be abused by this set, never mind what happens, Willie's¹ regiment was in the thickest of the fight and suffered severely, but I believe behaved very well.

There is now here an artist in bronze, of the name of Simmons, who is sculpturing a life-size head of me, of which he intends casting a medallion in bronze. His work is pronounced excellent, and he promises to present you a copy, so you will have your Meade art gallery increased. Grant is still away.

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¹ William Sergeant, brother of Mrs. Meade.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 262-3

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Monday, April 4, 1864

It rained all last night and nearly all day. I attended a party this evening at Mr. Fossett's and we all had a fine time which passed off very rapidly. There were fourteen couples present. I remained over night with my old bunk-mate, James. I enjoyed my visit with him, talking over the times when we started into the service together.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 177

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, April 5, 1864

I took dinner at Mr. Curtis's today, and had a fine dinner. Two other soldier boys were there, Mr. Curtis's son, Homer and Thomas Fossett, both of the Twenty-fourth Iowa Infantry. The citizens in and around Inland are very loyal, and the vicinity is well represented in the Eleventh and Twenty-fourth Regiments.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 177

Diary of Gideon Welles: Saturday, August 16, 1862

With the President an hour or two this A.M., selecting candidates from a large number recommended for midshipmen at the naval school.

Finished a set of instructions for our naval officers in matters relating to prize captures and enforcing the blockade. Mr. Seward sent me a few days since in the name of the President some restraining points on which he wished the officers to be instructed, but I was convinced they would work injury. Have toned down and modified his paper, relieved it of its illegal features, added one or two precautionary points and sent the document to the State Department for criticism and suggestions.

Mem. It may be well, if I can find time, to get up a complete set of instructions, defining the points of international and statute law which are disputed or not well understood.

Have a long telegram from Wilkes, who informs me that the army has left, and asking for instructions what to do now that McClellan has gone. I have not been advised of army movements by either the Secretary of War or General Halleck. Both are ready at all times to call for naval aid, but are almost wholly neglectful of the Navy and of their own duties in regard to it, as in this instance.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 82-3

Diary of Salmon P. Chase: Thursday August 7, 1862

Very little accomplished as yet, though much, I hope, in the train of accomplishment. Engaged nearly all day on selections for recommendations of Collectors and Assessors. Prepared letter to President, containing names etc. etc. of candidates, with my recommendations, for Connecticut; made up in very small part on my own personal knowledge, but mainly on the representations and advice — sometimes agreeing and sometimes not — of the Senators, Representatives, State officers and Secretary Wells.

In the evening, went to War Department, where I saw Curtis' dispatch from Helena, urging the clearing out of the Mississippi before attempting inland operations; and McClellan's announcing advance of the enemy on Malvern Hill, and his purpose to order the retirement of Hooker's Division; and those of various Governors, and announcing progress of volunteering and preparations for drafting — on the whole very encouraging and denoting the greatest possible earnestness and determination among the people.

Home. Taylor, Davis, and Hopper (all blacks) called. —  Wrote my friend E. and sent some pencil scribblings. — Mr. Gest called, but not able to see him.

SOURCE: Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 58