Major-General John Sedgwick to Governor William Sprague, August 23, 1862

Headquarters Sedgwick's Division,

Near Newport News, August 23, 1862.

Governor:

Understanding that you propose to recommend Colonel C. H. Tompkins, 1st Rhode Island Artillery, for an appointment as Brigadier, I beg leave to say to you that, in my judgment, few better appointments, or better deserved, could be made from the volunteer service. Colonel Tompkins has been upon my staff as Chief of Artillery since I have commanded this division, and has commended himself strongly to me by his attention to his duties and by his zeal and coolness in action, having been of great service to me in all the battles we have shared in. Recently at Malvern Hill, in anticipation of a probable severe engagement, I placed him in command of a brigade in preference to giving it to any of the regimental commanders, believing that it would be safest in his hands.

You are at liberty to make such use of this letter as you see fit, and I shall be very glad if Colonel Tompkins gets his promotion.

I have the honour to be, with much respect,

Your Excellency's most obedient servant,

John Sedgwick,

Major-General Volunteers

SOURCES: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 77-8

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Thursday, December 26, 1861

A cloudy day — thawing and muddy. The colonel is planning an expedition through Raleigh to Princeton to capture what is there of the enemy, — viz. six hundred sick with a guard of about one hundred men, arms and stores, with a possibility of getting Floyd who is said to be without guard at and to burn the railroad bridges near Newbern. The plan is to mount one-half the force on pack mules and ride and tie — to make a forced march so as to surprise the enemy. He does not seem willing to look the difficulties in the face, and to prepare to meet them. He calls it forty or fifty miles. It is sixty-seven and one-half. He thinks men can move night and day, three of four miles an hour. Night in those muddy roads will almost stop a column. With proper preparations, the thing is perhaps practicable. Let me study to aid in arranging it, if it is to be.

Dear wife! how is she? — Soon after breakfast the sun chased the clouds away and we had a warm spring day. The bluebirds are coming back if they ever left our twenty-first fine day this month.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 169

Francis Lieber to Senator Charles Sumner, December 28, 1861

New York, December 28, 1861.

A Petition.

After I had sealed the large letter of this date to you, my dear friend, I read the paper of to-day more carefully, and must needs add this fervent petition — of a single man, to be sure — to the chairman of the Committee on Foreign Affairs, namely, — that should the Trent affair be settled by sense and reason, he, the said chairman, will move heaven and earth, that it be not done without settling a principle. Let us have that, at least, for all the trouble and all the expense which England doubtless has already incurred in the premises. Let some portion, at least, of that poisonous question, Search and Visit, be settled, — what may be done, and what may not. I know you have thought of all this; but I could not help addressing this petition to you, — and I shall ever pray, &c, &c

SOURCE: Thomas Sergeant Perry, Editor, The Life and Letters of Francis Lieber, p. 325-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 14, 1861

Kissing goes by favor! Col. M–––r, of Maryland, whose published letter of objuration of the United States Government attracted much attention some time since, is under the ban. He came hither and tendered his services to this government, but failed to get the employment applied for, though his application was urged by Mr. Hunter, the Secretary of State, who is his relative. After remaining here for a long time, vainly hoping our army would cross the Potomac and deliver his native State, and finding his finances diminishing, he sought permission of the Secretary to return temporarily to his family in Maryland, expecting to get them away and to save some portion of his effects. His fidelity was vouched for in strong language by Mr. Hunter, and yet the application has been refused! I infer from this that Mr. Benjamin is omnipotent in the cabinet, and that Mr. Hunter cannot remain long in it.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 84-5

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: January 9, 1864

Met Mrs. Wigfall. She wants me to take Halsey to Mrs. Randolph's theatricals. I am to get him up as Sir Walter Raleigh. Now, General Breckinridge has come. I like him better than any of them. Morgan also is here.¹ These huge Kentuckians fill the town. Isabella says, “They hold Morgan accountable for the loss of Chattanooga.” The follies of the wise, the weaknesses of the great! She shakes her head significantly when I begin to tell why I like him so well. Last night General Buckner came for her to go with him and rehearse at the Carys' for Mrs. Randolph's charades.

The President's man, Jim, that he believed in as we all believe in our own servants, “our own people,” as we call them, and Betsy, Mrs. Davis's maid, decamped last night. It is miraculous that they had the fortitude to resist the temptation so long. At Mrs. Davis's the hired servants all have been birds of passage. First they were seen with gold galore, and then they would fly to the Yankees, and I am sure they had nothing to tell. It is Yankee money wasted.

I do not think it had ever crossed Mrs. Davis's brain that these two could leave her. She knew, however, that Betsy had eighty dollars in gold and two thousand four hundred dollars in Confederate notes.

Everybody who comes in brings a little bad news — not much, in itself, but by cumulative process the effect is depressing, indeed.

_______________

¹ John H. Morgan, a native of Alabama, entered the Confederate army in 1861 as a Captain and in 1862 was made a Major-General. He was captured by the Federals in 1863 and confined in an Ohio penitentiary, but he escaped and once more joined the Confederate army. In September, 1864, he was killed in battle near Greenville, Tenn.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 275-6

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: October 6, 1862

W., Hanover County. — We left the University on the 4th, and finding J. B. N. on the cars, on “sick-leave,” I determined to stop with him here to spend a few days with my sisters, while Mr. —— went on to Richmond and Ashland. I do nothing but listen — for my life during the last three months has been quiet, compared with that of others. J. gives most interesting accounts of all he has seen, from the time he came up the Peninsula with the army in May, until he was broken down, and had to leave it, in Maryland, after the battle of Sharpsburg. As a surgeon, his personal danger has not been so great as that of others, but he has passed through scenes the most trying and the most glorious. My sisters and M. give graphic descriptions of troubles while in the enemy's lines, but, with the exception of loss of property, our whole family has passed through the summer unscathed. Many friends have fallen, and one noble young relative, E. B., of Richmond County; and I often ask myself, in deep humility of soul, why we have been thus blessed, for since our dear W. P. and General Mcintosh fell, the one in December, the other in March, we have been singularly blessed. Can this last, when we have so many exposed to danger? O, God, spare our sons! Our friend, Dr. T., of this neighbourhood, lost two sons at Sharpsburg! Poor old gentleman! it is so sad to see his deeply-furrowed, resigned face.

McClellan's troops were very well-behaved while in this neighbourhood; they took nothing but what they considered contraband, such as grain, horses, cattle, sheep, etc., and induced the servants to go off. Many have gone — it is only wonderful that more did not go, considering the inducements that were offered. No houses were burned, and not much fencing. The ladies' rooms were not entered except when a house was searched, which always occurred to unoccupied houses; but I do not think that much was stolen from them. Of course, silver, jewelry, watches, etc., were not put in their way. Our man Nat, and some others who went off, have returned — the reason they assign is, that the Yankees made them work too hard! It is so hard to find both families without carriage horses, and with only some mules which happened to be in Richmond when the place was surrounded. A wagon, drawn by mules, was sent to the depot for us. So many of us are now together that we feel more like quiet enjoyment than we have done for months.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 164-5

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: June 17, 1864

This morning as we sat at breakfast, we got news that Mr. P. was coming, and oh! with what joy we soon received him! Thank God for his deliverance! Two days ago I thought it a very possible thing that we might never meet in this world, and now he is here safe. Surely our prayers have been heard, and we have been blessed beyond all we dared to hope.

Our spirits begin to rise already, and we cease to feel subjugated, as we surely did two days ago. I thought the cause of the Confederacy was finished for the present, or at least that it was a hopeless struggle. I feel differently now. As to losses, Mr. P. says that $30,000 would scarcely cover what he has lost by this invasion. He is a poor man now for the rest of his days, he says; but he bears it with a brave and Christian spirit, and utters no complaint.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 197

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, September 6, 1864

News came that General Sherman was still in pursuit of the rebels, and that he has captured a great many of them. This morning I was transferred from Ward D to Ward E as wardmaster, the master of Ward E having been sent to the front. I have charge of eleven sick men and they are getting along well. One poor fellow with a severe case of inflammatory rheumatism is entirely helpless.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 214

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: Thursday, June 16, 1864

As after a storm has passed, we go out and look abroad to see the extent of the damage done, so now, having been swept with the besom of destruction, we look around, as soon as the calm has come, and try to collect our scattered remnants of property, and see whether we have anything to live on.

On Tuesday morning our guard left in a great hurry, though not before I had delivered a letter to one of them to carry to J., which he pledged himself to take care of. The town began gradually to be cleared, and though we did not know under what rule we were to be considered, we crept out to try to hear something. The experience of our neighbors has been in some instances worse, in some better than ours; but all have suffered. Some idea of our absorption of thought may be imagined, when I record that since last Friday till yesterday, we actually forgot to have any dinner gotten; we forgot to eat; four days we went from morning till dark without food.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 196-7

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Monday, September 5, 1864

Clear and quite pleasant. All things are quiet.¹

_______________

¹ Men were leaving every day for the front and but few were brought to our hospitals, since the Union army was In possession of Atlanta, where hospitals were being established, while those at Rome were to be closed Just as soon as the sick there were able to go to the front.—A. G. D.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 213

Review: Co. "Aytch" - The Complete Illustrated Edition

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Even before it was prominently featured in Ken Burns’ award winning documentary, The Civil War, Sam Watkins’ memoir Co. “Aytch” The First Tennessee Regiment or a Side show to the Big Show, was a classic of Civil War literature, and widely heralded my many historians as one of the best memoirs of the war written by a common soldier.

At the outset to the Civil War Watkins was one of 120 men who enlisted in Company H of the 1st Tennessee Infantry.  He and his comrades were in virtually every major battle of the war in its Western theater.  By the time the war ended in April 1865, Watkins was one of seven members of the company who were still alive when General Joseph E. Johnston surrendered the Army of Tennessee to Major-General William Tecumseh Sherman.

Soon after his return home Sam Watkins began to write his memoir.  His engaging narrative captures the pageantry and monotony, the glory and misery, the humor and drama, the pride and horror experienced by a common soldier of the Confederate in the Western Theater.

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Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Louisa Thompson, August 1, 1861

Meridian Hill, Washington,

Aug. 1st, 1861.

Dear Cousin Lou:

I am seated in my tent, the rain is pouring in torrents, and I am at leisure to think of friends at home. You see whom I was first remembering, not having forgotten the kind letter which Mr. Houston brought me from Thompsonville, when I was somewhere over in Virginia. I thank you so much for all the dear, kind expressions of love your letter contained.

Oh! Ah! Here come about twenty-five men or more with complaints, and as the Captain is away, I must straighten up, and play the part of Magistrate. Oh Olympian Jove! Oh Daniel risen to judgment! The malcontents have been severally coaxed, wheedled, threatened, and sent about their business, and the Centurion is once again at leisure. A pleasant thing is this exercise of power, especially when commands can be given in the quietest manner possible, and yet to feel that from your judgment there can be no appeal. In fact, dear Cousin Lou, imagine me when the Captain is away, performing the paternal function towards some hundred grown up children. Ah me! I am growing venerable and cares are weighing heavily upon me.

But I must not forget that I am a veteran soldier now. Poor Horace! How I shall assume superior airs, tell him, when I return home! In fact when, one of these days, I get a furlough and am surrounded by friends, how I shall exercise my soldier's privilege of drawing the long bow! In my first battle, of course, I performed the most remarkable deeds of daring. I shall not pretend to tell you how many Secessionists I killed! Between ourselves though, in all privacy, I will confess that the fearful weapon with which I struck such terror in the hearts of the enemy, was a toy wooden sword, captured by one of our men from a secession boy-baby. In the great battle of Manassas, holding the occasion to be one of greater moment, I made the charge armed with a ramrod, which I picked up on the way thither! I acknowledge I found the work hotter than I anticipated in the latter engagement, and mean in future to go armed in regulation style. The truth of the matter was, that being ordered suddenly to march from our pleasant encampment in Georgetown, I was found unprepared, and must either stay behind, or trust to my pistol in case of emergency. I preferred the latter, and the kind Providence has brought me safely through the fiery ordeal, through which we all had to pass. What think you, dear Cousin Lou of our miserable defeat? It seems hard, as we lost many good men out of our Regiment on that bloody day. I saw many things never to be forgotten. No matter for sickening details though. The ground lost must be recovered at any cost. We have lost out of the 800 who went into the engagement about 150 in killed and wounded, besides some fifty more numbered among the missing. Hardship and exposure have caused much sickness in the camp. Most of the liquor-dealing Captains and Lieutenants who commanded before the battle, have resigned, many others are dead or in the hands of the enemy — so I can give no very cheerful picture of our camp at present. We are to be soon thoroughly reorganized, to be cared for tenderly by the President and Secretary of War, to be recruited to the army standard, and when once more discipline shall be enforced, we trust that the 79th will be able to charge as gallantly as at Manassas, but that the charge may result not in mere loss of life, but in glorious victory.

You would be much entertained, could you only see behind the scenes, at the daring feats of individuals, which are passing the rounds of the papers. A specimen is afforded by a story I read in the Herald of a certain Captain who is reported to have repeatedly rallied the men of the 79th and led them back to battle. Now the fact is that Captain never was within three days journey of the battle, and moreover, at least ten days before the engagement the Colonel threatened him with arrest should he dare to show himself in the Regiment. Captain wrote the article himself, and had it published. This is only an isolated example of the manner by which this war is made to subserve the dirtiest of politicians. I have had no letter from Horace, and but few from home since I left New-York. I suppose some of the letters addressed to me, have been captured by the Secessionists, and have been perused with the same gusto that we felt when a package of the enemy's letters fell into our hands. Of course we had to read them to glean as far as possible the state of political feeling in the South, and I blush to say we read with special interest the tender epistles which fair South Carolina maidens penned for the eye alone of South Carolina heroes. Think of such sacred pages being polluted by the vulgar gaze of a parcel of peddling Yankees.

We learned some of the peculiarities of the Aborigines down South from these epistles. We learned that the ladies are so modest that they write of themselves with a little i — that all Southern babies send their papas "Howdy" — that a certain perfidious —— ——— is “cortin the gall” of one of the brave palmetto soldiers who is congratulated by his sister upon having slain 3000 Yankees — that the ladies in the South are thirsting for the blood of the Northern mercenaries, and, above all, penmanship, spelling and composition showed that the greatest need of the South, is an army of Northern Schoolmasters. Well, Cousin Lou, I must not write for ever, so good-bye. Love to all in Enfield and in Pelham.

Very affectionately,

Wm. T. Lusk,

Lieut. 10th Co. 79th Regiment, Washington.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 63-6

Captain William F. Bartlett to Lieutenant-Colonel Francis W. Palfrey, December 31, 1862

Headquarters Remainder Banks' Expedition,

No. 194 Broadway, New York, December 31, 1862.

. . . . As regards myself, I ride with ease, hardly with comfort. My horse is wild, fractious, and stubborn. He is a valuable beast, of great strength, endurance, and mettle. But I am not exactly in condition now to break a wild brute. He rears with me, jumps, etc. My friends beg me not to ride him, and I have not mounted him for a week. My man, a splendid horseman, rides him hard every day, and is breaking him. I am looking for another one, more gentle, and may keep both. It is a delightful sensation to me, to move about on a horse after hobbling around on crutches so long.

You will wonder at the heading of this letter. General Andrews sent for me and desired me to take command during his absence of a week or so, notwithstanding my telling him that my commission must be one of the youngest of the eight still here. So that my command is just now about eight thousand, — rather ridiculous, isn't it?  . . . . My regiment I am getting into excellent order. I drill the non-coms, in the manual, an hour every morning, standing on one leg. In the afternoon, I drill the whole line in the manual an hour and a half. I visit the guard every night after twelve, to see that the officer of the guard and day are doing their duty, etc., etc. The officers and men are all interested in their work and everything goes well

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 54-5

Diary of Gideon Welles: Thursday, September 18, 1862

The last two or three days have been pregnant with rumors and speculations of an exciting character. Some officials on the watch-towers, sentinels and generals, have been alarmed; but on the whole the people have manifested a fair degree of confidence and composure. We have authentic news that a long and sanguinary battle has been fought.¹ McClellan telegraphs that the fight between the two armies was for fourteen hours. The Rebels must have been in strong position to have maintained such a fight against our large army. He also telegraphs that our loss is heavy, particularly in generals, but gives neither names nor results. His dispatches are seldom full, clear, or satisfactory. “Behaved splendidly,” “performed handsomely,” but wherein or what was accomplished is never told. Our anxiety is intense. We have but few and foggy dispatches of any kind these troublesome days. Yesterday and day before there were conflicting accounts about Harper's Ferry, which, it is now admitted, was thrown to the Rebels with scarcely a struggle. Miles,² who was in command, is reported mortally wounded.  . . . General Mansfield is reported slain. He was from my State and almost a neighbor. He called on me last week, on his way from Norfolk to join the army above. When parting he once shook hands, there then was a farther brief conversation and he came back from the door after he left and again shook hands. “Farewell,” said I, “success attend you.” He remarked, with emphasis, and some feeling, “We may never meet again.”

_______________

¹ The Battle of Antietam was fought on the 16th and 17th.

² Colonel Dixon S. Miles. He died of his wounds, Sept. 16, 1862.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 139-40

Diary of Salmon P. Chase, Saturday, September 13, 1862

Breakfasted alone. What has become of Mr. Skinner? Went to Department and attended to some matters of routine.

Went to Navy Department with Gov. Seward, according to appointment, about expedition to Charleston. Examined chart with Secretary Welles and Asst. Secy. Fox. Learned that the “Ironsides and Passaic” will be ready for sea by the 1st. October; which is more than two weeks longer than Mr. Welles gave me to understand ten days ago. Fox thinks that James Island ought to have been held and that Hunter was wrong in withdrawing our force from it; but it is now commanded by our gunboats, so that a landing upon it is easy, and a force of 10,000 or 15,000 men would suffice for the reduction of Charleston. A land force, however, would have to act mainly independently of the naval, — and no naval force but ironclads could act with any efficiency because, the harbor being a cul de sac, wooden vessels entering it to bombard the town, would be exposed to fire from all sides, and could not pass and repass the enemy's batteries, as at Port Royal, and, by motion, make the enemy's fire comparatively ineffectual. Ironclads, however, such as the “Passaic” and the “Ironsides” could go right into the harbor, with little or no risks, and destroy the Forts, batteries and the town itself, if not surrendered. After all, it seemed to me that it would contribute greatly to the certainty of the result if a land force should be organized, and I determined to confer with the Secretary of War on the subject, as soon as possible. No time should be lost in making every arrangement for such overwhelming blows, just as soon as the ironclads are ready, as will effectually annihilate the possibility of rebel success.

From the Navy Department, we went to Head Quarters where we found Genl. [Cullom¹] who said: “We have got whipped again. We have just received a telegram that the rebels have defeated our people in Fayette County, Va., and are driving them down the Kanawha. The trouble is that our men won't fight.” The style of remark did not suit me, but it is too common among our generals. In my opinion, the soldiers are better than the officers. — Genl. Halleck came in, and we asked the situation. There was nothing new, he said, except confirmation that Burnside drove the rebels out of Frederick yesterday, and had renewed the fight to-day. Heavy firing had been heard from the direction of Harpers Ferry and the Frederick and Hagerstown roads. We left Head Quarters, and I returned to the Department.

Gave O'Harra and Pitt Cooke letter of introduction to Genl. Mitchell. Visited Mr. Clarke's sealing and trimming machine for the ones and twos and found them a perfect success; and the ones and twos are sealed and trimmed by machinery, attended by the most part by women, with such prodigious advantage to the Government, that it seems difficult to imagine that coining, except in large masses, can be of much utility hereafter.

Jay Cooke writes that he has visited New-York and conversed with Bankers; and thinks that $10,000,000 in Gold will be gladly deposited at 4%. I think that, in this way, all the Gold needed can be obtained at very small cost and without affecting the market in any way. If it succeeds, it will form not the least remarkable chapter in the history of the financial success which has attended me thus far.

Wrote to Katie and Nettie, and to Horton — to Katie, advising her not to return immediately, — to Horton about Pope.

In the evening, went to Willard's to call on Genl. Schenck, but did not see him. Met Weed, and went to his room and talked of sundry matters. He says I have done as well in the New York appointments as was possible, and advises care as to the securities taken; which advice I think very good. He thinks the time has come for vigorous measures South; and is for freeing the slaves, and arming them as far as useful, without noise or excitement. He saw Hunter in New-York; who says that if he had been sustained, he would have emasculated the rebellion in South Carolina before now — which he seemed to believe and which I believe absolutely.

Went to War Department. Telegraph men told me that telegraph was built to Point of Rocks and several miles beyond the Monocacy towards Frederick, and that heavy continuous firing was heard, by the operator of the former place, from the direction of Harpers Ferry, till between three and four this afternoon; and that firing, though not so heavy, was also heard from the direction of Middleton, between Frederick and Hagerstown. There was also a rumor that we had captured a large wagon-train, with considerable number of prisoners. The inference from the firing heard is that an attack has been made on Harpers Ferry by a large rebel force, and a stout defense with unknown result; and that a less important conflict has taken place between the advance under Burnside and the rebel rear falling back towards Hagerstown on Harpers Ferry, (probably the former) and that the rebels have been worsted.

Telegram from Gov. Curtin yesterday states that a reliable gentleman of Maryland who had opportunities to converse freely with officers of the rebel army, says that the rebel force in Maryland is 190,000, and the other side of the Potomac 250,000—in all 440,000. This is a specimen of information collected and believed!

Came home and Cooke called with Mr. Davis, General Birney's partner, who wants him made a Major General with command of Kearney's corps. I think this should be done. We must advance all our Republican officers who have real merit, so as to counterpoise the too great weight already given to Democratic officers, without much merit. They have been more pushed than the Republicans and we have been more than just — more than generous even — we have been lavish towards them. It is time to change the policy.

_______________

1 Name inserted from Warden's excerpt, 473.

SOURCE: Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 78-80

Horace Greeley to James S. Pike, March 8, 1860

New York, March 8, 1860.

Friend Pike: I have bet you $20 on Douglas against the field. So far good. Now you say Seward will be our man. Well, I offer you $20 on that. I name my man for Charleston and back him against the field. You name your man for Chicago, and don't back him against the field, as I proposed. Very good. It seems that I have more confidence in my jud[g]ment than you have in yours; so we will stand there on the original $20 on Douglas, which I trust you will win; only, if Douglas has no chance, you and Harvey should “poor pussy” him, not abuse him.

F. is one of the poorest and most debauched of the drunken sailors that floated ashore from the wreck of Know-Nothingism. He is, of course, the very man for a printer to Congress. No honest man could get it, for none of that stamp could lie enough. Hence Follett's failure in '56, and Defrees's now. Both these are honest men.

But Gurley's bill to establish a Government Printing-Office is worse even than Ford or Bowman or Wendell — worse than all three together. It is to establish a national hospital for broken-down editors and printers, the jackals of the Camerons, and Bankses and Brights and Gwinns of all time. It will be more expensive and more nauseous than any thing we have yet known. Every drunken printer and ex-editor who won't work, and can't earn a living if he would, will be billeted on the public Treasury, and jobs will be invented to keep up a semblance of work for them — and very little work will do them. Just see.

I hope F. will cheat the crowd out of every dollar. If he will do this with the impudence of a highwayman, I'll go in for giving him another as good thing somewhere. Genius should be encouraged.

Yours,

H. G.

J. S. P.

SOURCE: James Shepherd Pike, First Blows of the Civil War: The Ten Years of Preliminary Conflict in the United States from 1850 to 1860, p. 502

James Buchanan to John B. Floyd, December 31, 1860

washington, December 31, 1860.

My Dear Sir: I have received and accepted your resignation of the office of Secretary of War, and not wishing to impose upon you the task of performing its mere routine duties, which you have so kindly offered to do, I have authorized Postmaster-General Holt to administer the affairs of the Department until your successor shall be appointed.

Yours very respectfully,

(Signed)

james Buchanan,

To Hon. John B. Floyd.

SOURCE: Samuel Wylie Crawford, The Genesis of the Civil War: The Story of Sumter, 1860-1861, p. 151; D. Appleton & Co., The American Annual Cyclopӕdia and Register of Important Events of the Year 1861, Volume 1, p. 701

Diary of William Howard Russell: April 14, 1861

The Eutaw House is not a very good specimen of an American hotel, but the landlord does his best to make his guests comfortable, when he likes them. The American landlord is a despot who regulates his dominions by ukases affixed to the walls, by certain state departments called “offices” and “bars,” and who generally is represented, whilst he is away on some military, political, or commercial undertaking, by a lieutenant; the deputy being, if possible, a greater man than the chief. It requires so much capital to establish a large hotel, that there is little fear of external competition in the towns. And Americans are so gregarious that they will not patronize small establishments. I was the more complimented by the landlord's attention this morning when he came to the room, and in much excitement informed me the news of Fort Sumter being bombarded by the Charleston batteries was confirmed, “And now,” said he, “there's no saying where it will all end.” After breakfast I was visited by some gentlemen of Baltimore, who were highly delighted with the news, and I learned from them there was a probability of their State joining those which had seceded. The whole feeling of the landed and respectable classes is with the South. The dislike to the Federal Government at Washington is largely spiced with personal ridicule and contempt of Mr. Lincoln. Your Marylander is very tenacious about being a gentleman, and what he does not consider gentlemanly is simply unfit for any thing, far less for place and authority. The young draftsman, of whom I spoke, turned up this morning, having pursued me from Washington. He asked me whether I would still let him accompany me. I observed that I had no objection, but that I could not permit such paragraphs in the papers again, and suggested there would be no difficulty in his travelling by himself, if he pleased. He replied that his former connection with a Black Republican paper might lead to his detention or molestation in the South, but that if he was allowed to come with me, no one would doubt that he was employed by an illustrated London paper. The young gentleman will certainly never lose any thing for the want of asking. At the black barber's I was meekly interrogated by my attendant as to my belief in the story of the bombardment. He was astonished to find a stranger could think the event was probable. “De gen'lemen of Baltimore will be quite glad ov it. But maybe it'll come bad after all.” I discovered my barber had strong ideas that the days of slavery were drawing to an end. “And what will take place then, do you think?” “Wall, sare, 'spose colored men will be good as white men.” That is it. They do not understand what a vast gulf flows between them and the equality of position with the white race which most of those who have aspirations imagine to be meant by emancipation. He said the town slave-owners were very severe and harsh in demanding larger sums than the slaves could earn. The slaves are sent out to do jobs, to stand for hire, to work on the quays and docks. Their earnings go to the master, who punishes them if they do not bring home enough. Sometimes the master is content with a fixed sum, and all over that amount which the slave can get may be retained for his private purposes. Baltimore looks more ancient and respectable than the towns I have passed through, and the site on which it stands is undulating, so that the houses have not that flatness and uniformity of height which make the streets of New York and Philadelphia resemble those of a toy city magnified. Why Baltimore should be called the “Monumental City” could not be divined by a stranger. He would never think that a great town of 250,000 inhabitants could derive its name from an obelisk cased in white marble to George Washington, even though it be more than 200 feet high, nor from the grotesque column called “Battle Monument,” erected to the memory of those who fell in the skirmish outside the city in which the British were repulsed in 1814. I could not procure any guide to the city worth reading, and strolled about at discretion, after a visit to the Maryland Club, of which I was made an honorary member. At dark I started for Norfolk in the steamer “Georgiana.”

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 77-9

Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. to John L. Motley November 29, 1861

Boston, November 29, 1861.

My Dear Motley: I know you will let me begin with my personal story, for you have heard before this time about Ball's Bluff and its disasters, and among them that my boy came in for his honorable wounds. Wendell's experience was pretty well for a youngster of twenty. He was standing in front of his men when a spent ball struck him in the stomach and knocked him flat, taking his wind out of him at the same time. He made shift to crawl off a little, the colonel, at whose side he was standing, telling him to go to the rear. Presently he began to come right, and found he was not seriously injured. By the help of a sergeant he got up, and went to the front again. He had hardly been there two or three minutes when he was struck by a second ball, knocked down, and carried off. His shirt was torn from him, and he was found to be shot through the heart — it was supposed through the lungs. The ball had entered exactly over the heart on the left side and come out on the right side, where it was found—a Minie ball. The surgeon thought he was mortally wounded, and he supposed so, too. Next day better; next after that, wrote me a letter. Had no bad symptoms, and it became evident that the ball had passed outside the cavities containing the heart and lungs. He got on to Philadelphia, where he stayed a week, and a fortnight ago yesterday I brought him to Boston on a bed in the cars. He is now thriving well, able to walk, but has a considerable open wound, which, if the bone has to exfoliate, will keep him from camp for many weeks at the least. A most narrow escape from instant death! Wendell is a great pet in his character of young hero with wounds in the heart, and receives visits en grand seigneur. I envy my white Othello, with a semicircle of young Desdemonas about him listening to the often-told story which they will have over again.

You know how well all our boys behaved. In fact, the defeat at Ball's Bluff, disgraceful as it was to the planners of the stupid sacrifice, is one as much to be remembered and to be proud of as that of Bunker Hill. They did all that men could be expected to do, and the courage and energy of some of the young captains saved a large number of men by getting them across the river a few at a time, at the imminent risk on their own part of being captured or shot while crossing.

I can tell you nothing, I fear, of public matters that you do not know already. How often I thought of your account of the great Armada when our own naval expedition was off, and we were hearing news from all along the coast of the greatest gale which had blown for years! It seemed a fatality, and the fears we felt were unutterable. Imagine what delight it was when we heard that the expedition had weathered the gale and met with entire success in its most important object.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 216-8

John M. Forbes to Sarah Hathaway Forbes, March 4, 1862

Steamer Atlantic, 4th March, 1862.

There is nothing like beginning a journal early, so I take it up where Alice will have left me, on my way to the ship. Cousin Sim¹ wouldn't hear of my plan of ordering a carriage for me and my baggage, but would have a wagon for the trunks, and drive me down. So I dispatched all my things, bag included, to wait for me at the Atlantic, and followed soon after. Arrived there, all was bustle and confusion, but our wagon was missing! — gone probably to some other Atlantic at some other Canal Street, existing in the driver's fertile brain! Mr. Cary, and William, and Sim, and little Johnny, and William Russell all started in different directions, while I kept guard in the drizzling northeaster for the wagon. Baggage and miscellaneous heaps of things gradually disappeared into the maw of the monster ship, whose wheels were turning and churning up the water as if impatient for a start. Frantic women, unprotected females, appealed to the captain and to Mr. E. L. Pierce to let them go and teach young nigs; others in despair about their traps, some tearful at parting, the collector busy as a bee swearing in the passengers. Finally he bundled up his papers, the wharf was emptied, and the ship full. The captain mounted the paddle-box, and still my precious trunks came not. I determined to leave them and trust to the captain and Mr. Heard for clothes, — yet lingered on the ladder to the last. Imagine my “phelinks” at the idea of not having even a tooth-brush! and at the vision of what Mary's cake would be when turned out of my trunk a fortnight hence! At last back came Mr. Cary with the wagoner in his clutches, who protested that he brought all and that it had gone on board, deep, alas, into that bottomless pit of a baggage hole, now full to the top. Thankful even for this forlorn hope, I bade our friends good-by, and took refuge in the cabin, where Mr. Heard’s things were snugly stored in our little state-room! I leave you to think of the anathemas uttered against cousin Sim, against the whole race of wagoners, and above all against my own feeble-minded self for trusting any of them!

Once fairly started I seized the head porter and insisted on having my trunks, if the whole had to be turned out of their stowage; then by going down myself I luckily managed to get my sea things, and so that adventure ended in comedy!

Our passengers consist chiefly of the “villaintropic” society, as dear little Sarah's friend, the housekeeper in Miss Edgeworth's “False Keys,” would call it; bearded and mustached and odd-looking men, with odder-looking women.  . . . You would have doubted whether it was the adjournment of a John Brown meeting or the fag end of a broken-down phalanstery! Among others Mr. Mack (Stillman's father-in-law, who says he knew and liked William H.), Ned Hooper and young Phillips of Will's class, and Fred Eustis and son; an officer stationed at Beaufort, Captain Eliot, son of the oculist, introduced to me by or through the Shaws, Tim Walker's sister, whom I have not yet seen; William Bacon and young Brooks, a scattering naval officer or two, and the usual quantum suff. of nondescripts and nonentities, valued doubtless by somebody, but offering no salient points to fix the eye.

We made a grand show at dinner, — a terrible waste of good things for most of them, and then plunged into the fog and drizzle of a dirty northeaster, which doubtless visited you in snow, and gave you some twinges at having let me go! Tea and cards in the evening. Mr. Heard seasick, and only a few of us haunting the long dining-room. A fair night's sleep, variegated with sore throat and some coughing, and then a bright morning with a westerly gale blowing. Passengers very scattering. We had an alarm of a countess, but neither captain nor purser know of her, so it is doubtless a mistake, unless, like a wolf in sheep's clothing she had smuggled herself into Mr. Pierce's troop of fifty! I should not forget to tell you of Whist, who was consigned to a porter, nor of Billy,² the occupant of a box such as you saw horses hoisted in. As he was much exposed to wind[.] I luckily found an old sail belonging to the little boat Mr. Cary sent on board for me, and went and got one end of his box tented in. The top was already covered, so he seemed pretty well provided for, although the blanket Luther got for him looked mighty thin and cottony!

This morning after breakfast I was forward by the pilot-house, watching the old ship pitch into the sea and the gulls following, and the bright sky and blue and white waves, when an unlucky billow took us at the wrong time, like a boxer hitting his adversary when down, and instantly the whole deck below, nine feet down, was full of water; and even where I stood it came ankle deep, and even found its way, a little of it, down my back as I clutched at a rope and turned to avoid it! The next moment I looked down upon poor Billy. His box had been lifted bodily, turned around, and the iron anchor stock driven through it! Billy had plunged forward and got his fore feet outside, and was struggling violently among the flukes of the anchor to keep his footing, and then, with the intelligence of a pony, tried to get back into his box from the slippery deck, — his box, now shared with the anchor stock and generally knocked into a cocked hat! They got him out with whole legs, and he is now standing, or trying to stand, on the deck, while the carpenter is mending his box. It was for a time a bad sight, and, the water being still surging about below, I could not without thorough ducking help him, except by advice and consolation offered through the singing of the gale!

So I have brought you up to the present time. Alice can well finish the picture, if she remembers our old seat near the captain's end of the table, where I am sitting, with my feet on the warm steam pipe under the table and my outer man guarded by a coat stolen from Mr. Heard to replace my wet one, — the spray still dashing against the saloon square windows, but the sea going down; and now we are sure of good weather for the rest of our trip.

_______________

¹ His cousin, Paul Sieman Forbes, of New York.

² A little Naushon island horse, taken down as a charger for Lieutenant W. H. F. Whist was a setter. — Ed.

SOURCE: Sarah Forbes Hughes, Letters and Recollections of John Murray Forbes, Volume 1, p. 294-8