Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: February 9, 1864

This party for Johnny was the very nicest I have ever had, and I mean it to be my last. I sent word to the Carys to bring their own men. They came alone, saying, “they did not care for men.” “That means a raid on ours,” growled Isabella. Mr. Lamar was devoted to Constance Cary. He is a free lance; so that created no heart-burning.

Afterward, when the whole thing was over, and a success, the lights put out, etc., here trooped in the four girls, who stayed all night with me. In dressing-gowns they stirred up a hot fire, relit the gas, and went in for their supper; réchauffé was the word, oysters, hot coffee, etc. They kept it up till daylight.

Of course, we slept very late. As they came in to breakfast, I remarked, “The church-bells have been going on like mad. I take it as a rebuke to our breaking the Sabbath. You know Sunday began at twelve o'clock last night.” “It sounds to me like fire-bells,” somebody said.

Soon the Infant dashed in, done up in soldier's clothes: “The Yankees are upon us!” said he. “Don't you hear the alarm-bells? They have been ringing day and night!” Alex Haskell came; he and Johnny went off to report to Custis Lee and to be enrolled among his “locals,” who are always detailed for the defense of the city. But this time the attack on Richmond has proved a false alarm.

A new trouble at the President's house: their trusty man, Robert, broken out with the smallpox.

We went to the Webb ball, and such a pleasant time we had. After a while the P. M. G. (Pet Major-General) took his seat in the comfortable chair next to mine, and declared his determination to hold that position. Mr. Hunter and Mr. Benjamin essayed to dislodge him. Mrs. Stanard said: “Take him in the flirtation room; there he will soon be captured and led away,” but I did not know where that room was situated. Besides, my bold Texan made a most unexpected sally: “I will not go, and I will prevent her from going with any of you.” Supper was near at hand, and Mr. Mallory said: “Ask him if the varioloid is not at his house. I know it is.” I started as if I were shot, and I took Mr. Clay's arm and went in to supper, leaving the P. M. G. to the girls. Venison and everything nice.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 286-7

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: December 13, 1862

Our hearts are full of apprehension! A battle is going on at or near Fredericksburg. The Federal army passed over the river on their pontoons night before last. They attempted to throw the bridges over it at three places; from two of these they were driven back with much slaughter; at the third they crossed. Our army was too small to guard all points. The firing is very heavy and incessant. We hear it with terrible distinctness from our portico. God of mercy, be with our people, and drive back the invaders! I ask not for their destruction; but that they may be driven to their own homes, never more to put foot on our soil; that we may enjoy the sweets of peace and security once more. Our dear boys — now as ever — I commit them into Thy hands.

Night. — Passengers report heavy skirmishing before they left Fredericksburg this morning, but cannonading tells us of bloody work since. A few wounded men were carried by to-night. We went to the depot to see if there were any particular friends among them, but found none.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 174-5

Charlotte Cross Wigfall to Louise Wigfall, April 26, 1861

montgomery, April 26.

The people here are all in fine spirits, and the streets are so lively and every one looks so happy, that you can scarcely realize the cause of the excitement. No one doubts our success.  . . . I suppose the chief fighting will be in Maryland and Virginia.  . . . This is a beautiful town and much larger than I expected to see it. There are a great many gardens, and as beautiful flowers as I ever saw anywhere. Several bouquets of the most superb flowers were presented to your father the night he spoke here and, of course, I had the benefit of them. The streets are very wide, and five of them unite, and diverge on the square opposite us. Something like Washington.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 49-50

Charlotte Cross Wigfall to Louise Wigfall, April 29, 1861

29th: I have been this morning to witness the opening of Congress, and hear the President's message. It was an admirable one, worthy of his reputation. It gives such a fair and lucid statement of matters, as they now stand, that I am sure it will do good abroad, if not at home.  . . .  This afternoon I went with Mrs. Chesnut to call on Mrs. Davis. I am going tomorrow to her reception.  . . . You allude to reports given in the Northern papers of the Fort Sumter affair. It is only what might have been expected of them, that they would garble and misrepresent the truth; but I must confess that Major Anderson's silence, and the disingenuous bulletin he sent to Cameron have surprised me. He takes care not to tell the whole truth, and any one to read his statement would suppose he had only come out on those conditions, whereas, he surrendered unconditionally — the U. S. Flag was lowered without salute while your father was in the fort. This was seen, not only by your father, but by the thousands who were on the watch, and it was only owing to General Beauregard's generosity (misplaced, it seems, now) that he was allowed to raise it again, and to salute it on coming out of the Fort, and take it with him.  . . . And this conduct too, after the kind and generous treatment he met with from the Carolinians. Judge Ochiltree is here and tells me Tom is a private in a company that Capt. Bass has raised in Marshall.  . . . The drums are beating here all the time, and it really makes me heartsick when I think about it all.

I don't think though that the military enthusiasm can be very high at the North as I see they are offering $20 additional pay to volunteers a month. That fact speaks volumes. I suppose it is to be accounted for in the anxiety to get rid of the mob population who might be troublesome at home.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 50-1

Diary of Sarah Morgan: May 14, 1862

I am beginning to believe that we are even of more importance in Baton Rouge than we thought we were. It is laughable to hear the things a certain set of people, who know they can't visit us, say about the whole family.  . . . When father was alive, they dared not talk about us aloud, beyond calling us the “Proud Morgans” and the “Aristocracy of Baton Rouge” . . . But now father is gone, the people imagine we are public property, to be criticized, vilified, and abused to their hearts' content

And now, because they find absurdities don't succeed, they try improbabilities. So yesterday the town was in a ferment because it was reported the Federal officers had called on the Miss Morgans, and all the gentlemen were anxious to hear how they had been received. One had the grace to say, “If they did, they received the best lesson there that they could get in town; those young ladies would meet them with the true Southern spirit.” The rest did not know; they would like to find out.

I suppose the story originated from the fact that we were unwilling to blackguard — yes, that is the word — the Federal officers here, and would not agree with many of our friends in saying they were liars, thieves, murderers, scoundrels, the scum of the earth, etc. Such epithets are unworthy of ladies, I say, and do harm, rather than advance our cause. Let them be what they will, it shall not make me less the lady; I say it is unworthy of anything except low newspaper war, such abuse, and I will not join in.

I have a brother-in-law in the Federal army whom I love and respect as much as any one in the world, and shall not readily agree that his being a Northerner would give him an irresistible desire to pick my pockets, and take from him all power of telling the truth. No! There are few men I admire more than Major Drum, and I honor him for his independence in doing what he believes right. Let us have liberty of speech and action in our land, I say, but not gross abuse and calumny. Shall I acknowledge that the people we so recently called our brothers are unworthy of consideration, and are liars, cowards, dogs? Not I! If they conquer us, I acknowledge them as a superior race; I will not say that we were conquered by cowards, for where would that place us? It will take a brave people to gain us, and that the Northerners undoubtedly are. I would scorn to have an inferior foe; I fight only my equals. These women may acknowledge that cowards have won battles in which their brothers were engaged, but I, I will ever say mine fought against brave men, and won the day. Which is most honorable?

I was never a Secessionist, for I quietly adopted father's views on political subjects without meddling with them. But even father went over with his State, and when so many outrages were committed by the fanatical leaders of the North, though he regretted the Union, said, “Fight to the death for our liberty.” I say so, too. I want to fight until we win the cause so many have died for. I don't believe in Secession, but I do in Liberty. I want the South to conquer, dictate its own terms, and go back to the Union, for I believe that, apart, inevitable ruin awaits both. It is a rope of sand, this Confederacy, founded on the doctrine of Secession, and will not last many years — not five. The North Cannot subdue us. We are too determined to be free. They have no right to confiscate our property to pay debts they themselves have incurred. Death as a nation, rather than Union on such terms. We will have our rights secured on so firm a basis that it can never be shaken. If by power of overwhelming numbers they conquer us, it will be a barren victory over a desolate land. We, the natives of this loved soil, will be beggars in a foreign land; we will not submit to despotism under the garb of Liberty. The North will find herself burdened with an unparalleled debt, with nothing to show for it except deserted towns, burning homes, a standing army which will govern with no small caprice, and an impoverished land. If that be treason, make the best of it!

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 30-3

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Thursday, September 22, 1864

It is still raining, which makes the third day's rain. My ward was broken up today and the sick boys were transferred to Ward D in hospital number 4. We worked all afternoon making the ward ready for the wounded from the field hospital. I tried to get permission to return to my regiment today, but the doctor would not let me go. But all who are able, if not needed here, are to be sent to the front tomorrow.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 216

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 5, 1861

To my amazement, a man came to me to-day for a passport to Norfolk, saying he had one from the Secretary to pass by flag of truce to Fortress Monroe, etc. He wished me to give him one to show at the cars, not desiring to exhibit the other, as it might subject him to annoying looks and remarks.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 91

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: February 5, 1864

When Lawrence handed me my husband's money (six hundred dollars it was) I said: “Now I am pretty sure you do not mean to go to the Yankees, for with that pile of money in your hands you must have known there was your chance.” He grinned, but said nothing.

At the President's reception Hood had a perfect ovation. General Preston navigated him through the crowd, handling him as tenderly, on his crutches, as if he were the Princess of Wales's new-born baby that I read of to-day. It is bad for the head of an army to be so helpless. But old Blucher went to Waterloo in a carriage, wearing a bonnet on his head to shade his inflamed eyes—a heroic figure, truly; an old, red-eyed, bonneted woman, apparently, back in a landau. And yet, “Blucher to the rescue!”

Afterward at the Prestons', for we left the President's at an early hour. Major von Borcke was trying to teach them his way of pronouncing his own name, and reciting numerous travesties of it in this country, when Charles threw open the door, saying, “A gentleman has called for Major Bandbox.” The Prussian major acknowledged this to be the worst he had heard yet.

Off to the Ives's theatricals. I walked with General Breckinridge. Mrs. Clay's Mrs. Malaprop was beyond our wildest hopes. And she was in such bitter earnest when she pinched Conny Cary's (Lydia Languish's) shoulder and called her “an intricate little huzzy,” that Lydia showed she felt it, and next day the shoulder was black and blue. It was not that the actress had a grudge against Conny, but that she was intense.

Even the back of Mrs. Clay's head was eloquent as she walked away. “But,” said General Breckinridge, “watch Hood; he has not seen the play before and Bob Acres amazes him.” When he caught my eye, General Hood nodded to me and said, “I believe that fellow Acres is a coward.” “That's better than the play,” whispered Breckinridge, “but it is all good from Sir Anthony down to Fag.”

Between the acts Mrs. Clay sent us word to applaud. She wanted encouragement; the audience was too cold. General Breckinridge responded like a man. After that she was fired by thunders of applause, following his lead. Those mighty Kentuckians turned claqueurs, were a host in themselves. Constance Cary not only acted well, but looked perfectly beautiful.

During the farce Mrs. Clay came in with all her feathers, diamonds, and fallals, and took her seat by me. Said General Breckinridge, “What a splendid head of hair you have.” “And all my own,” said she. Afterward she said, they could not get false hair enough, so they put a pair of black satin boots on top of her head and piled hair over them.

We adjourned from Mrs. Ives's to Mrs. Ould's, where we had the usual excellent Richmond supper. We did not get home until three. It was a clear moonlight night — almost as light as day. As we walked along I said to General Breckinridge, “You have spent a jolly evening.” “I do not know,” he answered. “I have asked myself more than once to-night, ‘Are you the same man who stood gazing down on the faces of the dead on that awful battle-field? The soldiers lying there stare at you with their eyes wide open. Is this the same world? Here and there?’”

Last night, the great Kentucky contingent came in a body. Hood brought Buck in his carriage. She said she “did not like General Hood,” and spoke with a wild excitement in those soft blue eyes of hers — or, are they gray or brown? She then gave her reasons in the lowest voice, but loud and distinct enough for him to hear: “Why? He spoke so harshly to Cy, his body-servant, as we got out of the carriage. I saw how he hurt Cy's feelings, and I tried to soothe Cy's mortification.”

“You see, Cy nearly caused me to fall by his awkwardness, and I stormed at him,” said the General, vastly amused. “I hate a man who speaks roughly to those who dare not resent it,” said she. The General did own himself charmed with her sentiments, but seemed to think his wrong-doing all a good joke. He and Cy understand each other.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 284-6

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: December 10, 1862

Just returned from a visit of a week to my old friend Mrs. C. Her home in Richmond is the very picture of comfort and hospitality; having wealth, she uses it freely, in these troublous times, for the comfort of others. If all hearts were as large as hers, there would be no refugees in garrets and cellars. I was touched by her attention to Mr. –––, whom she had always seen engaged in his duties as a minister of the Gospel. She seemed to think it a kind of sacrilege to see him employed from nine until four o'clock in the duties of his secular office, and “to think of his reverend and hoary head bending over a clerk's desk;” she would say: “Oh, what awful times!” I told her that she must not think of it in that light; that he had been greatly blessed to get the office, which supported us so much better than many other refugees. While talking this way, she would be suiting the action to the word, by rolling up a most delightful chair to the fire, placing a small table before it, ready for some nice refreshment when he returned. It is trying to see him work so hard for our support, in his delicate state of health. The girls and myself are very anxious to get work from Government, signing notes, copying — any thing to assist in supporting ourselves; but we have tried in vain, and I suppose it is right, for there are so many widows and orphans who have a much higher claim to any thing that Government can do for them. We have heard heavy firing to-day. The car passengers report that there is skirmishing near Port Royal.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 174

Louis T. Wigfall to Major D. R. Jones, April 13, 1861

Head Quarters, Confederate States Army,

charleston, South Carolina,

April 13, 1861.

Major:

I have the honor to report that between one and two o'clock this afternoon, the flag having fallen at Fort Sumter, and its fire having ceased, I left Morris's Island, with the consent and approval of General Simons to demand the surrender of the work, and offer assistance to the garrison.

Before reaching the Fort the flag was again raised. On entering the work I informed Major Anderson of my name and position on the staff of the Commanding General, and demanded the surrender of the Fort to the Confederate States.

My attention having been called to the fact that most of our batteries continued their fire, I suggested to Major Anderson that the cambric handkerchief, which I bore on my sword, had probably not been seen, as I crossed the Bay, and requested him to raise a white flag; which he did. The firing then ceased from all our batteries — when Major Anderson lowered his flag and surrendered the Fort.

The time and manner of the evacuation are to be determined by General Beauregard.

Before the surrender I expressed the confident belief to Major Anderson that no terms would be imposed, which would be incompatible with his honor as a soldier, or his feelings as a gentleman — and assured him of the high appreciation in which his gallantry and desperate defence of a place, now no longer tenable, were held by the Commanding General.

Major Anderson exhibited great coolness, and seemed relieved from much of the unpleasantness of his situation by the fact that the proposal had been made by us that he should surrender the work, which he admitted to be no longer defensible.

I take great pleasure in acknowledging that my success in reaching the Fort was due to the courage and patriotism of Private William Gourdin Young, of the Palmetto Guard; without whose aid I could not have surmounted the obstacles.

I have the honor to be with the highest respect.

Louis T. Wigfall.

major D. R. Jones,

Asst. Adjutant General,

Confederate States Army.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 45-6

Diary of Sarah Morgan: May 11, 1862

I — I am disgusted with myself. No unusual thing, but I am peculiarly disgusted this time. Last evening, I went to Mrs. Brunot's, without an idea of going beyond, with my flag flying again. They were all going to the State House, so I went with them; to my great distress, some fifteen or twenty Federal officers were standing on the first terrace, stared at like wild beasts by the curious crowd. I had not expected to meet them, and felt a painful conviction that I was unnecessarily attracting attention, by an unladylike display of defiance, from the crowd gathered there. But what was I to do? I felt humiliated, conspicuous, everything that is painful and disagreeable; but — strike my colors in the face of the enemy? Never! Nettie and Sophie had them, too, but that was no consolation for the shame I suffered by such a display so totally distasteful to me. How I wished myself away, and chafed at my folly, and hated myself for being there, and every one for seeing me. I hope it will be a lesson to me always to remember a lady can gain nothing by such display.

I was not ashamed of the flag of my country, — I proved that by never attempting to remove it in spite of my mortification, — but I was ashamed of my position; for these are evidently gentlemen, not the Billy Wilson's crew we were threatened with. Fine, noble-looking men they were, showing refinement and gentlemanly bearing in every motion. One cannot help but admire such foes! They set us an example worthy of our imitation, and one we would be benefited by following. They come as visitors without either pretensions to superiority, or the insolence of conquerors; they walk quietly their way, offering no annoyance to the citizens, though they themselves are stared at most unmercifully, and pursued by crowds of ragged little boys, while even men gape at them with open mouths. They prove themselves gentlemen, while many of our citizens have proved themselves boors, and I admire them for their conduct. With a conviction that I had allowed myself to be influenced by bigoted, narrow minded people, in believing them to be unworthy of respect or regard, I came home wonderfully changed in all my newly acquired sentiments, resolved never more to wound their feelings, who were so careful of ours, by such unnecessary display. And I hung my flag on the parlor mantel, there to wave, if it will, in the shades of private life; but to make a show, make me conspicuous and ill at ease, as I was yesterday, — never again!

There was a dozen officers in church this morning, and the psalms for the 11th day seemed so singularly appropriate to the feelings of the people, that I felt uncomfortable for them. They answered with us, though.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 28-30

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Wednesday, September 21, 1864

It rained all day. There is a rumor flying in the air here that the veterans of the Seventeenth Army Corps are to be mustered out of the service this fall, on account of not having been sworn in right. But we cannot yet believe such a report to be true; that would be too good a thing all at once. We hear that all is quiet in the East, on the Rappahannock.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 216

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw Lowell, Sunday, September 11, 1864 – 8 a.m.

Ripon, Sunday, 8 A. M. (Sept. 11).

A lovely morning after one of the most stormy nights I ever remember. Torrents of rain and continuous thunder and lightning and wind for six or eight hours, — the Doctor¹ and I were quite washed out, — our tent seemed to be a through-drain for all the surrounding country. Did you see the moon last evening? — here, she was a perfect stage moon, — the whole scene what scene-painters aim at, when they have to put her to sleep on a bank. We had the band up and they were quite sentimental in their choice of music, and I grew as homesick as possible.

I received a long note yesterday from the Governor's Secretary, Colonel A. G. Brown, — it occupied me yesterday afternoon, and stimulated me to writing to such a degree that I wrote to Mr. H. L. Higginson and to Barlow and to Blagden and to Major-General Hitchcock and to Cousin John, — the latter about Will, who is soon to be released, and about Billy and about another little horse (two sizes smaller than Billy) which he wishes me to take and ride. I accepted the offer conditionally, and with scruples. It is a colt of “Countess's,” a “Bob Logic” colt, and Mr. F. says is good, though small. I hope it won't stop so many bullets as Billy.

I stopped here to send for a paper, and have read McClellan’s letter. It won’t do, though it’s much better than a Peace platform.

_______________

¹ Dr. De Wolf, then acting as brigade surgeon, occupied the same tent with the colonel. Some years after the war, he became the head of the Board of Health of Chicago.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 345-6, 463

Major-General John Sedgwick to his Sister, May 6, 1863

May 6, 1863.

My dear sister:

Our campaign was very brief, but very unfortunate. I am perfectly satisfied with the part my corps took in it, and their conduct was admirable. All the success we had was obtained by this corps. Believe little that you see in the papers. There will be an effort to throw the blame for the failure on me, but it will not succeed. My friends here will do me justice.

One of my staff was wounded and one taken prisoner. Captain Halsted is all right. What the next move will be no one knows. I will write when a little settled.

J. S.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 92-3

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Dr. Joseph T. Webb, January 4, 1862

Camp Union, January 4, 1862.

Dear Doctor: — You have probably learned that Dr. McCurdy has gone home to recruit his health. If Dr. Jim does not break down (I have some fears on that score) this absence of Dr. McCurdy need not hasten your departure. Our men are generally very healthy; the sick are daily returning, for the most part well. Captain Skiles and Captain Lovejoy are to recruit in Ohio. It is possible that I may not come, if Lucy gets on well, until you return. If we do not move the Twenty-third on to Raleigh, I would prefer to wait, if possible, until you get here.

If we go on to Raleigh where Major ——. At this point, I learned that the Twenty-sixth is ordered to Kentucky. If so, it will stop our going on to Raleigh; besides, it has just begun to rain, so I suppose we are fixed. If so, I shall be coming home in two or three weeks, I think. Possibly not. You need send me nothing except newspapers. The Commercial via Gallipolis by mail comes in good time.

We have some interesting contrabands coming in daily. Eleven came in yesterday. The rain seems to be a “settled” one. If so, all movements in this quarter are at an end. Sorry, but it can't be helped. . . .

Yours,

R.

Dr. J. T. Webb.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 178

Francis Lieber to Charles Sumner, January 6, 1864

January 6,1864.

. . . As to your question concerning the “Alabama,” I have not. studied all the details. Nevertheless, I have no doubt whatever that it is one of those cases in which a ponderously stronger power would make the offender pay for the damages, the fairness and international equity being so decidedly against England. All her excuses can only rest on little quibbles, supported by the power which can make good “I won't.” . . .

How can we free ministers from the draft? Every Methodist class-leader would be free. We should free some hundred thousand men in the lustiest age. If the Catholic priest resists, because ecclesia non sitit sanguinem, they may fight with the club, as the Capuchin did who fought with Andrew Höfer. . . .

Will the exemption clause, passed by the senate, pass the house? Will the President sign it? It seems to me the greatest error, and, as far as I can judge, very unpopular. I was amazed when I found the statement of its passage through the senate. Would to God we had the pen of a Burke or the voice of a Paul to impress the people with the truth that the nearer the end, the greater the army. The effort of the Secessionists next spring will be immense, and should we be beaten once or twice, it would galvanize again all the abundant, though latent, Copperhead influences. That unfortunate “in three months all will be over” has cost us very dearly.

SOURCE: Thomas Sergeant Perry, Editor, The Life and Letters of Francis Lieber, p. 337-8

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 2, 1861

It has culminated. Mr. Benjamin's quarrel with Beauregard is openly avowed. Mr. Benjamin spoke to me about it to-day, and convinced me at the time that Gen. B. was really in the wrong. He said the general had sent in his report of the battle of Manassas, in which he stated that he had submitted a plan to the department for the invasion of Maryland; and no such plan having been received, as Mr. B. says, and the matter being foreign to the business in hand, the department had seen proper to withhold the report from publication. But this did not concern him, Mr. B., because he was not the Secretary of War when the alleged plan had been sent to Richmond. But his difference with the general grew out of an attempt of the latter to organize troops and confer commands without the sanction of the department. He had rebuked the general, he said; and then the general had appealed to the President, who sustained the Secretary. Mr. B. said that Gen. B. had ascertained who was strongest with the President.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 90

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 3, 1861

From this day forth, I hope Mr. Benjamin and I will be of better accord. I have an official order, directed by him and written by Col. Bledsoe, to the effect that no more alien enemies are to have passports. On the contrary, when any one avows himself an alien enemy, and applies for permission to leave the country, Gen. Winder is to take him in charge.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 90

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 4, 1861

Several were arrested yesterday. Still I doubt whether we are dealing fairly, even with enemies. They have been encouraged to come into and go out of the country by the facilities afforded them; and now, without any sort of notification whatever, they are to be arrested when they present themselves. I hate all traps and stratagems for the purpose of stimulating one to commit a wrong; and hence this business, although it seems to afford employment, if not delight, to Gen. Winder and his Baltimore detectives, is rather distasteful to me. And when I reflect upon it, I cannot imagine how Mr. Benjamin may adjust the matter with his conscience. It will soon cure itself, however; a few arrests will alarm them all.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 90

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: February 1, 1864

Mrs. Davis gave her “Luncheon to Ladies Only” on Saturday. Many more persons there than at any of these luncheons which we have gone to before. Gumbo, ducks and olives, chickens in jelly, oysters, lettuce salad, chocolate cream, jelly cake, claret, champagne, etc., were the good things set before us.

To-day, for a pair of forlorn shoes I have paid $85. Colonel Ives drew my husband's pay for me. I sent Lawrence for it (Mr. Chesnut ordered him back to us; we needed a man servant here). Colonel Ives wrote that he was amazed I should be willing to trust a darky with that great bundle of money, but it came safely. Mr. Petigru says you take your money to market in the market basket, and bring home what you buy in your pocket-book.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 284