Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Monday, September 26, 1864

The camp of the Seventeenth Army Corps is four miles south of town. We have a very nice camp here, the boys having built good bunks out of old lumber, in their wedge tents. Our tents had been stored at Huntsville, Alabama, and after the fall of Atlanta were sent forward. General Sherman's entire army is in camp here, and strongly fortified, just south of Atlanta. The army is to be paid off while in camp, the muster rolls having been sent in to the paymaster. All is quiet.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 217

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, September 27, 1864

General Sherman issued an order removing all citizens from Atlanta, on account of the scarcity of food. There is only one line of railroad open from the North to Atlanta, and the rebels are destroying almost every day some portions of the track, thus delaying trains. All who take the oath of allegiance are sent north beyond the Ohio river, while those who refuse to take it are to go farther south; they can take their choice. General Sherman has notified Hood to come with wagons to a station south of Atlanta and take care of the citizens, as our teams will haul them to that station. A great many are taking the oath and going North, but some think themselves too good to take the oath. Some of the women are very strong secessionists, and spurn the idea of taking the oath, declaring that they would rather die.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 217-8

Monday, July 13, 2015

Lydia Maria Child to Horace Greeley, November 10, 1859

SIR: I was much surprised to see my correspondence with Governor Wise published in your columns. As I have never given any person a copy, I presume you must have obtained it from Virginia. My proposal to go and nurse that brave and generous old man, who so willingly gives his life a sacrifice for God’s oppressed poor, originated in a very simple and unmeritorious impulse of kindness; I heard his friends inquiring, “Has he no wife, or sister, that can go to nurse him? We are trying to ascertain, for he needs some one.” My niece said she would go at once, if her health were strong enough to be trusted. I replied that my age and state of health rendered me a. more suitable person to go, and that I would go most gladly. I accordingly wrote to Captain Brown, and enclosed the letter to Governor Wise. My intention was to slip away quietly, without having the affair made public. I packed my trunk and collected a quantity of old linen for lint, and awaited tidings from Virginia. When Governor Wise answered, he suggested the “imprudence of trying any experiment upon the peace of a society already greatly excited,” &c. My husband and I took counsel together, and we both concluded that, as the noble old veteran was said to be fast recovering from his wounds, and as my presence might create a popular excitement unfavorable to such chance as the prisoner had for a fair trial, I had better wait until I received a reply from Captain Brown himself. Fearing to do him more harm than good by following my impulse, I waited for his own sanction. Meanwhile, his wife, said to be a brave-hearted Roman matron, worthy of such a mate, has gone to him, and I have received the following reply.

Respectfully yours,
L. MARIA CHILD.
BOSTON, Nov. 10, 1859.

SOURCE: The American Anti-Slavery Society, Correspondence between Lydia Maria Child and Gov. Wise and Mrs. Mason, of Virginia, p. 13

Lydia Maria Child to John Brown, October 26, 1859

WAYLAND, Mass, Oct. 26, 1859.

Dear Capt. Brown: Though personally unknown to you, you will recognize in my name an earnest friend of Kansas, when circumstances made that Territory the battle-ground between the antagonistic principles of slavery and freedom, which politicians so vainly strive to reconcile in the government of the United States.

Believing in peace principles, I cannot sympathize with the method you chose to advance the cause of freedom. But I honor your generous intentions — I admire your courage, moral and physical. I reverence you for the humanity which tempered your zeal. I sympathize with you in your cruel bereavement, your sufferings, and your wrongs. In brief, I love you and bless you.

Thousands of hearts are throbbing with sympathy as warm as mine. I think of you night and day, bleeding in prison, surrounded by hostile faces, sustained only by trust in God and your own strong heart. I long to nurse you — to speak to you sisterly words of sympathy and consolation. I have asked permission of Governor Wise to do so. If the request is not granted, I cherish the hope that these few Words may at least reach your hands, and afford you some little solace. May you be strengthened by the conviction that no honest man ever sheds blood for freedom in vain, however much he may be mistaken in his efforts. May God sustain you, and carry you through whatsoever may be in store for you!

Yours, with heartfelt respect, sympathy and affection,

L. MARIA CHILD.

SOURCE: The American Anti-Slavery Society, Correspondence between Lydia Maria Child and Gov. Wise and Mrs. Mason, of Virginia, p. 14

John Brown to Lydia Maria Child, October 31, 1859

October 31st.

MY DEAR FRIEND — Such you prove to be, though a stranger – your most kind letter has reached me, with the kind offer to come here and take care of me. Allow me to express my gratitude for your great sympathy, and at the same time to propose to you a different course, together with my reasons for wishing it. I should certainly be greatly pleased to become personally acquainted with one so gifted and so kind, but I cannot avoid seeing some objections to it, under present circumstances. First, I am in charge of a most humane gentleman, who, with his family, has rendered me every possible attention I have desired, or that could be of the least advantage; and I am so recovered of my wounds as no longer to require nursing. Then, again, it would subject you to great personal inconvenience and heavy expense, without doing me any good. Allow me to name to you another channel through which you may reach me with your sympathies much more effectually. I have at home a wife and three young daughters, the youngest but little over five years old, the oldest nearly sixteen. I have also two daughters-in-law, whose husbands have both fallen near me here. – There is also another widow, Mrs. Thompson, whose husband fell here. Whether she is a mother or not, I cannot say. All these, my wife included, live at North Elba, Essex county, New York. I have a middle-aged son, who has been, in some degree, a cripple from his childhood, who would have as much as he could well do to earn a living. He was a most dreadful sufferer in Kansas, and lost all he had laid up. He has not enough to clothe himself for the winter comfortably. I have no living son, or son-in-law, who did not suffer terribly in Kansas.

Now, dear friend, would you not as soon contribute fifty cents now, and a like sum yearly, for the relief of those very poor and deeply afflicted persons, to enable them to supply themselves and their children with bread and very plain clothing, and to enable the children to receive a common English education?  Will you also devote your own energies to induce others to join you in giving a like amount, or any other amount, to constitute a little fund for the purpose named?

I cannot see how your coming here can do me the least good; and I am quite certain you can do immense good where you are. I am quite cheerful under all my afflicting circumstances and prospects; having, as I humbly trust, “the peace of God which passeth all understanding ” to rule in my heart. You may make such use of this as you see fit. God Almighty bless and reward you a thousand fold!

Yours in sincerity and truth,
JOHN BROWN.

SOURCES: The American Anti-Slavery Society, Correspondence between Lydia Maria Child and Gov. Wise and Mrs. Mason, of Virginia, p. 15-6; Franklin B. Sanborn, The Life and Letters of John Brown, p. 580-1; James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 390.

Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, August 17, 1861

Maryland,
Camp Causten, Aug. 17th, 1861.
My dear Mother:

This has been a busy and painful week for the officers of the Highland Regiment. You have seen various accounts of our troubles in the papers, but they contain nothing authentic, although perhaps about as much as an outsider can understand. The mutiny of Thursday is only the legacy of a quarrel begun among the officers before the Regiment left for the seat of war. The quarrel ended after the battle of Bull Run, in the resignation of several of the officers whose ambition was disappointed as to governing the affairs of the Regiment. Not content with withdrawing their services, these men resolved to undermine the Regiment itself. Their plans were well laid. In an underhand way they conveyed papers among the men purporting that, as State Militia they were entitled to return home at the expiration of three months service, but that an effort would be made to detain them for the war. By going home, it was represented the men would receive a grand ovation, would meet their families, and be enabled to tell their tale of the Bull Run battle. Those who had had enough of fighting could resume their old employments, while the greater part who were ready to re-enlist for the war, would be entitled to the re-enlistment bounty of $30. A Government which would give $30 bounty for re-enlisted three month soldiers must place a high value upon them. “Now,” the men were told, “a secret plan has been formed to prevent your return home at all. Lieut.-Col. Elliott has received from Government $10,000.00 to sell you all for the war, and to cheat you of your rights and privileges.”Some little things occurred, which as far as the men were concerned, seemed corroborative of these statements, viz: — An order which had been issued by the Secretary of War for us to return to NewYork to recruit, was recalled as inexpedient on the day the three-month service of our men expired. This was sufficient for them. They believed they had been sold; and the train which had been carefully laid, exploded upon our being ordered, not into the boat for home, but onto the road into Maryland. Since the battle, owing to the loss through resignations or deaths, of our Colonel, Major and 9 of the 10 Captains, besides that of many of the Lieutenants, we were left in a condition peculiarly unfavorable to discipline; and this much is to be said that the companies of Captain Ellis (my own) and that of Captain Elliott, which were provided with officers, obeyed their orders, and refused to join the mutineers. The mutiny commenced in the morning by the men's refusing to strike their tents as commanded. They were to have been struck at 5 a.m. and the Regiment was to move at 6 o'clock. Col. Stevens repeated the orders, but they were still silently and sullenly neglected. He then went among the men and used all his powers of persuasion, but they had been told that they had the law on their side, and if they only persevered, they would be able to return home as a militia regiment. Col. Stevens next went to each company singly and read the articles of war, appending to them such remarks as would enforce in the men the danger of their course; but by this time, the camp, left without sentry, became exposed to the whiskey dealers who made good use of their opportunities. Soon a scene of the wildest confusion took place. The soldiers, throwing off all authority, presented the hideous and disgusting spectacle of a debauched and drunken Helotry. It was a time trying to one's nerves — more trying far than the musketry or cannonading of Bull Run. The Colonel ordered the officers to strike the tents themselves. This we did amid the jeers, the taunts, and the insults of an infuriated mob. One man brought me his gun, cocked it, showed me it was capped, and reminded me it was intended for one officer at least to die, should our release be attempted. Still we worked quietly on, obeying our orders. Some of the Lieutenants were allowed to take down the tents undisturbed, but on leaving them a moment, they were again pitched by the men. Everywhere we were threatened, and it became equally necessary to show neither fear of the men, nor, on the other hand, to allow ourselves any act of violence which would precipitate bloodshed. Luckily for us, when the men were most maddened by drink, an old country quarrel broke out among them, viz: — the feud between the Orangemen and the Ribandmen, which we only know of through English novels, and history. We were not, however, altogether forgotten. Names neither poetical, decent, or complimentary were freely bestowed upon us. Finally afternoon advanced, and nothing was gained. The Colonel called on the men for the last time to render obedience. Soberness and reflection had begun their work upon a few. These fell into their places, and were stationed around the Camp as a guard over the others. Still, though thus yielding, their sympathies were either extended to their mutinous comrades, or else they were too fearful to render much assistance. It was necessary for the officers to be everywhere, and I confess I was quite exhausted when a body of cavalry and a line of infantry appeared, coming toward us. This was a great relief. The mutineers, all unconscious, were surrounded, and, when it was too late to resist, obeyed the orders issued, a death penalty being promised to those who wavered. You have seen in the papers the punishment awarded to the Regiment — the taking of our colors and the disgrace from which we are suffering.

Dear Mother, I feel heartsick and much depressed. I begin to repent bitterly of having cast my lot with a foreign Regiment. Our men have not the feelings of Americans, and cannot, when a reverse comes, be inspired to renewed efforts by enthusiasm for the cause. I am eager for another battle in order that we may have an opportunity to regain our colors, yet dread to risk it now that our men are much demoralized. I wish old Connecticut had a place for me.

Col. Stevens, who is an able man, thinks though, in less than a month he can make us once more the finest Regiment in the field. These stories regarding the Lieut.Col. are simply absurd. I have just received a letter from you. I endorse fully the bravery of Gen'l Tyler. His chief fault was his paying the Connecticut Volunteers the high compliment of believing they could fight like veterans, a compliment not at all to the taste of the Connecticut boys.

Good bye, dear mother.

Love to sisters and all.
Affec'y.,
W. T. Lusk.
_______________

Note. — Dr. Lusk once said that at the time of the mutiny among the 79th Highlanders he had one of the narrowest escapes of his life. A drunken soldier pointed a rifle at his head and fired, but a friend seeing the danger, knocked the muzzle of the gun in the air, just in time to avert catastrophy. In narrating this episode Dr. Lusk remarked with characteristic modesty, “You know I never was very brave, but when the men refused to strike the tents, the officers had to do it themselves.”

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 72-6

Diary of Colonel William F. Bartlett: Wednesday, May 20, 1863

Got up at five. Could hardly stand. The regiment started. Dr. Winsor begged me not to go. The carriage which Colonel Chapin was to send did not come. Dr. W. rode on to see Colonel Chapin, and find out if it was coming. Meanwhile I got on my horse and started. I had got out about a mile when I met the Doctor coming back. He said the carriage was broken, but would be along soon; made me get off and go into the nearest house and rest. I waited and waited hours, and then got word that the wagon had by some mistake gone on, and was by this time with the train. There was nothing to be done but go home or keep on horseback. I resolved to try the latter, and go as far as I could. It was now the very heat of the day. I seemed to feel better, and kept on to the Bayou Montesino of historic renown. I stopped at Mr. Pike's house, where I was received very cordially. I stayed to dinner, and passed the whole day there very pleasantly. About four, a man came with the buggy for me; he had been looking everywhere; Colonel Chapin had sent him back, not to return without me. So Steadman rode Billy and led Ned; and, having bade good-by to my kind friends (though rebels), we started on our long ride. The dust was several inches deep. We reached the regiment, encamped in a beautiful spot, about dark. The hearty cheers which they gave when they saw me come into camp were pleasing. They had been very blue all day, the officers said, and kept saying, “If we only had the Colonel along!” I had a pretty good sleep, and felt pretty well, considering the Doctor had said I would have a high fever if I attempted to come.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 63-4

Sunday, July 12, 2015

Diary of Salmon P. Chase: Tuesday, September 23, 1862

At breakfast this morning, I proposed to Katie to ride over to the Insane Asylum and see Genl. Hooker, to which she agreed; and she having provided a basket of grapes, peaches, etc., we went. We were very kindly received by Mrs. Nichols, who ushered us into the General's room. He was lying on a couch, but suffering no pain, he talked very freely as far as time would permit, of the recent events. He said that at Richmond, when the order came to withdraw the army, he advised McClellan to disobey, and proposed a plan for an advance on Richmond. McClellan gave him the order to advance, but, before the time for movement came, recalled it, and gave orders for evacuation. When Hooker expected to march to Richmond, therefore, he found himself, to his surprise, compelled to fall back to the Chickahominy on his way to Aquia. I said to him, “General, if my advice had been followed, you would have commanded after the retreat to James River, if not before.” He replied, “If I had commanded, Richmond would have been ours.” He then spoke of the Battle of Antietam, where he received his wound, and expressed his deep sorrow that he could not remain on the field three hours longer. “If I could have done so,” he said, “our victory would have been complete; for I had already gained enough and seen enough to make the route of the enemy sure.” After he had been carried off, he said, McClellan sent for him again to lead an advance. The General impressed me favorably as a frank, manly, brave and energetic soldier, of somewhat less breadth of intellect than I had expected, however, though not of less quickness, clearness and activity.

While we were conversing, Dr. Nichols came in and I had some talk with him in an adjoining room. He said the General's wound was as little dangerous as a foot wound could be, the ball having passed through the fleshy part just above the sole and below the instep, probably without touching a bone. I suggested the trial of Dr. Foster's balm. He made no special objection, but said the wound was doing as well as possible, without inflammation and very little matter; and he thought it unnecessary to try any experiments. I could not help concurring in this and postponed Dr. F. and his balm. — The Doctor said he first knew him when he encamped below him last year; that he became deeply interested in him; that when he heard he was wounded, he went up to Frederic, seeking him; that he missed him; but that his message reached him, and he came down to the Asylum himself. I asked, “What is your estimate of him?” — “Brave, energetic, full of life, skilful on the field, not comprehensive enough, perhaps, for plan and conduct of a great campaign; but at least equal in this respect, if not superior to any General in the service.”

Mr. Rives (of the Globe), his daughter and son-in-law came in and we took our leave; Dr Nichols having first strongly recommended to me to secure the appointment of Col. Dwight, of Mass., as a Brigadier General.

Returned home and went to Department Found Genl. Robinson, of Pittsburgh, there, and Mr. Piatt and Dr. Harkness. Got Harrington to go with P. and H. to War Department. — Mr. Welles came in, about appointment of Pease, in Wisconsin, and I asked him to write a note about it. — Attorney-General Bates called, with Mr. Gibson of St. Louis, about pecuniary aid to Gov. Gamble — both telling a very different story from Farrar and Dick. Promised to look at papers and answer tomorrow. — Stanton came in about payment of paroled soldiers at Camp Chase, which I promised to provide for. Said that he proposed to make the Department of Florida, with Thayer as Governor and Garfield as Commanding General, if I approved of Garfield. I said 1 approved heartily. Said he had insisted on removal of Buell, and leaving Thomas in command. I could not disapprove of this, though I think less highly of him than he seems to think. — He went and Barney came in. Asked him to dine. Declined, but promised to call in the evening. — Mr. Hamilton, on invitation, came to our house to stay while in town.

In the evening, many callers — Miss Schenck, Genl. and Mrs. McDowell, Genl. Garfield, and others. Young Mr. Walley came, with letters from his father, and I brought him in and introduced him to Katie and our guests.

SOURCE: Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 90-2

Diary of Gideon Welles: Tuesday, September 23, 1862

Received a letter from Commodore W. D. Porter stating his arrival in New York after many signal exploits, — capturing the ironclad steamer Arkansas, running Bayou Sara, etc. Charges from Admirals Farragut and Davis, accusing him of misrepresentation and worse, have preceded his arrival. The War Department has sent me an inexcusable letter, abusive of the military, which Porter has written, and which Stanton cannot notice. I have been compelled to reprove him and to send him before the Retiring Board. Like all the Porters, he is a courageous, daring, troublesome, reckless officer.

No news from the army. The Rebels appear to be moving back into Virginia in their own time and way, to select their own resting-place, and to do, in short, pretty much as they please. Am sad, sick, sorrowful over this state of things, but see no remedy without change of officers.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 145

Diary of Salmon P. Chase: Sunday, September 21, 1862

At home to-day, under orders from Dr. F. — Mr. Montgomery of Philadelphia dined with us. — Called on Harrington, to have Dr. F. go to see Gen. Hooker, if possible. Harrington made arrangements. — Towards sun-down, called at Mrs. C's to enquire for Mrs. D., and was much gratified to find her so far recovered as to be in the parlor. — Mr. Montgomery went to church with Katie. — Bannister, Taylor and others called.

Dr. F. spoke of having been to the President's, who being very busy writing, could not see him.
Thought to myself, “Possibly engaged on Proclamation.”

SOURCE: Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 87

Thomas Corwin to James S. Pike

Wednesday, 2 P.M.

Do you go to dine with Bache to-day at five P.M.? If so, do you walk or ride? If the latter, shall I call at five precisely with a carriage? Mr. Pike, do you not know that you can travel at a cheaper rate with one carriage than two? Answer me truly by the bearer hereof.

Thos. Corwin.
J. S. Pike, Sixth Street.

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. 513

Governor Francis W. Pickens to Major Robert Anderson, January 11, 1861

State Of South Carolina, Executive Office,
Charleston, January 11, 1861

To Major Anderson,
Commanding Fort Sumter.

Sir: I have thought proper, under all the circumstances of the peculiar state of public affairs in the country at present, to appoint the Hon. A. G. Magrath and General D. F. Jamison, both members of the Executive Council and of the highest position in the State, to present to you considerations of the gravest public character, and of the deepest interest to all who deprecate the improper waste of life, to induce the delivery of Fort Sumter to the constituted authorities of the State of South Carolina, with a pledge on its part to account for such public property as is under your charge.

Your obedient servant,
F. W. Pickens.

SOURCE: Samuel Wylie Crawford, The Genesis of the Civil War: The Story of Sumter, 1860-1861, p. 192

Diary of William Howard Russell: April 16, 1861

Early next morning [the 16th], soon after dawn, I crossed the Cape Fear River, on which Wilmington is situated, by a steam ferry-boat. On the quay lay quantities of shot and shell. “How came these here?” I inquired. “They're anti-abolition pills,” said my neighbor; “they've been waiting here for two months back, but now that Sumter's taken, I guess they won't be wanted.” To my mind, the conclusion was by no means legitimate. From the small glance I had of Wilmington, with its fleet of schooners and brigs crowding the broad and rapid river, I should think it was a thriving place. Confederate flags waved over the public buildings, and I was informed that the forts had been seized without opposition or difficulty. I can see no sign here of the “affection to the Union,” which, according to Mr. Seward, underlies all “secession proclivities.”

As we traversed the flat and uninteresting country, through which the rail passes, Confederate flags and sentiments greeted us everywhere; men and women repeated the national cry; at every station militia-men and volunteers were waiting for the train, and the everlasting word “Sumter” ran through all the conversation in the cars.

The Carolinians are capable of turning out a fair force of cavalry. At each stopping-place I observed saddle-horses tethered under the trees, and light driving vehicles, drawn by wiry muscular animals, not remarkable for size, but strong-looking and active. Some farmers in blue jackets, and yellow braid and facings, handed round their swords to be admired by the company. A few blades had flashed in obscure Mexican skirmishes — one, however, had been borne against “the Britishers.” I inquired of a fine, tall, fair-haired young fellow whom they expected to fight. “That's more than I can tell,” quoth he. “The Yankees ain't such cussed fools as to think they can come here and whip us, let alone the British.” “Why, what have the British got to do with it?” “They are bound to take our part: if they don't, we'll just give them a hint about cotton, and that will set matters right.” This was said very much with the air of a man who knows what he is talking about, and who was quite satisfied “he had you there.” I found it was still displeasing to most people, particularly one or two of the fair sex, that more Yankees were not killed at Sumter. All the people who addressed me prefixed my name, which they soon found out, by “Major” or “Colonel” — “Captain” is very low, almost indicative of contempt. The conductor who took our tickets was called “Captain.”

At the Pedee River the rail is carried over marsh and stream on trestle work for two miles. “This is the kind of country we'll catch the Yankees in, if they come to invade us. They'll have some pretty tall swimming, and get knocked on the head, if ever they gets to land. I wish there was ten thousand of the cusses in it this minute.” At Nichol's station on the frontiers of South Carolina, our baggage was regularly examined at the Custom House, but I did not see any one pay duties. As the train approached the level and marshy land near Charleston, the square block of Fort Sumter was seen rising above the water with the “stars and bars” flying over it, and the spectacle created great enthusiasm among the passengers. The smoke was still rising from an angle of the walls. Outside the village-like suburbs of the city a regiment was marching for old Virginny amid the cheers of the people — cavalry were picketed in the fields and gardens — tents and men were visible in the by-ways.

It was nearly dark when we reached the station. I was recommended to go to the Mills House, and on arriving there found Mr. Ward, whom I had already met in New York and Washington, and who gave me an account of the bombardment and surrender of the fort. The hotel was full of notabilities. I was introduced to ex-Governor Manning, Senator Chestnut, Hon. Porcher Miles, on the staff of General Beauregard, and to Colonel Lucas, aide-de-camp to Governor Pickens. I was taken after dinner and introduced to General Beauregard, who was engaged, late as it was, in his room at the Head-Quarters writing despatches. The General is a small, compact man, about thirty-six years of age, with a quick, and intelligent eye and action, and a good deal of the Frenchman in his manner and look. He received me in the most cordial manner, and introduced me to his engineer officer, Major Whiting, whom he assigned to lead me over the works next day.

After some general conversation I took my leave; but before I went, the General said, “You shall go everywhere and see everything; we rely on your discretion, and knowledge of what is fair in dealing with what you see. Of course you don't expect to find regular soldiers in our camps or very scientific works.” I answered the General, that he might rely on my making no improper use of what I saw in this country, but, “unless you tell me to the contrary, I shall write an account of all I see to the other side of the water, and if, when it comes back, there are things you would rather not have known, you must not blame me.” He smiled, and said, “I dare say we'll have great changes by that time.”

That night I sat in the Charleston Club with John Manning. Who that has ever met him can be indifferent to the charms of manner and of personal appearance, which render the ex-Governor of the State so attractive? There were others present, senators or congressmen, like Mr. Chestnut and Mr. Porcher Miles. We talked long, and at last angrily, as might be between friends, of political affairs.

I own it was a little irritating to me to hear men indulge in extravagant broad menace and rodomontade, such as came from their lips. “They would welcome the world in arms with hospitable hands to bloody graves.” “They never could be conquered.” “Creation could not do it,” and so on. I was obliged to handle the question quietly at first — to ask them “if they admitted the French were a brave and warlike people!” “Yes, certainly.” “Do you think you could better defend yourselves against invasion than the people of France?” “Well, no; but we'd make it pretty hard business for the Yankees.” “Suppose the Yankees, as you call them, come with such preponderance of men and materiel, that they are three to your one, will you not be forced to submit?” “Never.” “Then either you are braver, better disciplined, more warlike than the people and soldiers of France, or you alone, of all the nations in the world, possess the means of resisting physical laws which prevail in war, as in other affairs of life.” “No. The Yankees are cowardly rascals. We have proved it by kicking and cuffing them till we are tired of it; besides, we know John Bull very well. He will make a great fuss about non-interference at first, but when he begins to want cotton he'll come off his perch.” I found this was the fixed idea everywhere. The doctrine of “cotton is king,” — to us who have not much considered the question a grievous delusion or an unmeaning babble — to them is a lively all-powerful faith without distracting heresies or schisms. They have in it enunciated their full belief, and indeed there is some truth in it, in so far as we year after year by the stimulants of coal, capital, and machinery have been working up a manufacture on which four or five millions of our population depend for bread and life, which cannot be carried on without the assistance of a nation, that may at any time refuse us an adequate supply, or be cut off from giving it by war.

Political economy, we are well aware, is a fine science, but its followers are capable of tremendous absurdities in practice. The dependence of such a large proportion of the English people on this sole article of American cotton is fraught with the utmost danger to our honor and to our prosperity. Here were these Southern gentlemen exulting in their power to control the policy of Great Britain, and it was small consolation to me to assure them they were mistaken; in case we did not act as they anticipated, it could not be denied Great Britain would plunge an immense proportion of her people — a nation of manufacturers — into pauperism, which must leave them dependent on the national funds, or more properly on the property and accumulated capital of the district.

About 8:30, P. M., a deep bell began to toll. “What is that?” "It's for all the colored people to clear out of the streets and go home. The guards will arrest any who are found out without passes in half an hour.” There was much noise in the streets, drums beating, men cheering, and marching, and the hotel is crammed full with soldiers.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 95-8

John L. Motley to Mary L. Motley, December 10, 1861

December 10, 1861.

My Dearest Little Mary: The cotton brokers and spinners have been making a great row about the blockade, and the “Times,” half official organ of government, has thrown off all disguise and comes out openly as the supporter of the Southern Confederacy through thick and thin, and clamors for war with America and cheap cotton and free trade with Charleston and New Orleans. Just now, nobody but Bright has the manliness to lift up his voice in the midst of the storm. You will see and read his magnificent speech; but he is hated and feared by the governing classes in England. I run on this way because I can think of nothing else. Perhaps this horrible danger may blow over. Since, I have had a letter from Mr. Adams, and feel a little calmer; but I fear the voice of the mob in New York. I repeat, we can avoid the war without dishonor by holding fast to the principles always maintained by us.1 As to the expediency of such a course, provided it be honorable, nobody out of a lunatic asylum can doubt. God bless you, dear child. Write often and long letters; we depend on our little “special correspondent.” Give our loves to grandpapa and grandmama, all our dear ones at home, great and small.

Your affectionate
Papa.
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1 This was the course taken by the government of the United States.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 222

John M. Forbes to Parke Godwin*, June 23, 1862

Boston, June 23,1862.

My Dear Sir, — . . . The “New Bedford Mercury,” under its new management, is getting to be quite a live paper. I wish as much could be said for our administration, which seems to be carrying a millstone about its neck in its dread of the border States and of “Hunkerism” generally. I believe to-day that the old Union Democrats, and even the true men of the border States, are ahead of Lincoln upon this question of hitting the rebels hard — with the negro or any other club. It is strange when a rattlesnake is attacking us that we should be so delicate about the stick we hit him with!

I look with much anxiety to our operations in South Carolina. Beauregard's army, on its way from Corinth, passes directly by Charleston. Our force is ridiculously small for attack, the Key West troops included — if they can get there. Our negro brigade amounts to nothing until trained. We need prompt reinforcement there, or we shall have another blow half struck, or possibly a recoil there.
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* Editor of The New York Evening Post.

SOURCE: Sarah Forbes Hughes, Letters and Recollections of John Murray Forbes, Volume 1, p. 314-5

Charles Eliot Norton to George William Curtis, September 6, 1864

Home, 6 September, 1864.

I have just read your paper on Hawthorne, and am greatly pleased with it. Your analysis of his mental and moral character, and of its intellectual results, seems to me eminently subtile, delicate, and tender. I regret only that it is so short, — for there is much suggested in what you have written that might well be developed, and there are some traits of Hawthorne's genius which scarcely have justice done them in the brevity of your essay. The one point which I should like to have had more fully brought out is the opposition that existed between his heart and his intellect. His genius continually, as it seems to me, overmastered himself, and the depth and fulness of his feelings were forced into channels of expression in which they were confined and against which they struggled in vain. He was always hurting himself, till he became a strange compound of callousness and sensitiveness. But I do not mean to analyze. Your paper is a delightful one and I am very glad to have it.

And now let us rejoice together over the great good news. It lifts the cloud, and the prospect clears. We really see now the beginning of the end. The party that went for peace at Chicago1 has gone to pieces at Atlanta. The want of practical good sense in our own ranks pains me. The real question at issue is so simple, and the importance of solving it correctly so immense, that I am surprised alike at the confusion of mind and the failure of appreciation of the stake among those who are most deeply interested in the result. Even if Mr. Lincoln were not, as you and I believe, the best candidate, he is now the only possible one for the Union party, and surely, such being the case, personal preferences should be sunk in consideration of the unspeakable evil to which their indulgence may lead. I have little patience with Wade, and Sumner, and Chase, letting their silly vexation at not having a chance for the Presidency thus cloud their patriotism and weaken the strength of the party. . . .

I am glad you were to meet Goldwin Smith at dinner.2 He spent his first day on shore with us, — and we had much interesting talk. He is as good at least as his books. I gave him a note to you, and begged him to send it to you in advance of his going to New York that you might meet him there on his arrival, and secure him the right entrance to the big city. Will you give him a note to Seward and to Mr. Lincoln? He does not wish to go to Washington without formal introductions, — and he has now only a letter from Colonel Lawrence (T. Bigelow) which is not the right one for him to carry. . . .
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1 The Democratic National Convention, which nominated McClellan for the Presidency. It met at Chicago, August 29.

2 Goldwin Smith in his Reminiscences writes of his first visit to America: “In 1864, when the war was drawing to a close, I paid a visit to the United States charged with the sympathy of Bright, Cobden, and other British friends of the North as a little antidote to the venom of the too powerful Times.  . . . My friendships are, saving my marriage, the great events of my life; and of my friendships none is more dear than that with Charles Eliot Norton, who was my host, more than hospitable, in Cambridge. He combined the highest European culture with the most fervent love of his own country.”

SOURCE: Sara Norton and  M. A. DeWolfe Howe, Letters of Charles Eliot Norton, Volume 1, p. 277-9

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, April 21, 1862

Camp “Misery,” Two Miles South
Of Newmarket, April 21, 1862.

The name of our camp did not originate at headquarters, but it is the most appropriate one I can think of for it. The regiment has been here for three days without tents, on a bare field, with no other shelter than what the men could rig up out of rails and straw. The rain has been pouring down in torrents most of the time, making the whole surface of the ground a perfect mire. We are lying around, like pigs, in straw, with wet blankets, wet feet, wet everything, and a fair prospect of nothing for dinner. We have had some pretty tough times lately, but this knocks everything else higher than a kite! I think even Mark Tapley would get credit for being jolly here.

Last Tuesday our company went on picket. I was stationed just at night at a barn on the extreme outpost on the edge of Stony Creek. The following morning I went out, taking Hogan with me, to make a little reconnoissance of the enemy's pickets. It was foggy, and I couldn't see more than a hundred yards. All of a sudden the sun came out and the mist disappeared. I had hardly brought my field glass to my eyes, when pst — pst — pst — three bullets came past me. One cut a sprig off a pine tree over my head; another struck a rail of the fence I was sitting on; the other went into the ground. You may have seen the Ravels execute some pretty lively movements, but the one that Hogan and I made to get behind the fence beat them all.

As soon as we were under cover we looked for our enemies. None could be seen, but Hogan shifted his position, exposing himself a little and drawing their fire again. This time I saw the smoke come from behind a fence about two hundred and fifty yards off. 1 saw at once that we could not touch them. The nearest cover from where we were was about one hundred feet away; that place had got to be reached in order to get back to my post: I waited some time before I could make up my mind to exposing my valuable life, but I got across safely in this way: I put my cap on the point of my sword and raised it over the fence; their bullets struck in the rails all around it. Hogan fired a shot where the smoke came from, and then we ran for it! I tell you, I never felt more comfortable than when I got two thicknesses of a barn between me and the other side of the river. In the barn there was a little window; one of the men was taking aim to fire, when a ball struck his hand, inflicting a slight wound and tearing up his sleeve for six inches. Four other bullets struck the barn, going in one side and out the other. After that, I kept the men entirely out of sight, and no more harm was done. To give you an idea of how well they can fire, one of our sergeants put a board in sight, which they took for a man's head, and they put three bullets through it.

We returned to camp towards night. Reveillé sounded the next morning at two-thirty. At four A. M., we started, and marched all day over the most confounded roads, constantly fording the streams, the bridges being burnt. Our movement was off on the flank; Shields's division moved straight down the pike. At one time we were within two hours of Jackson's army, but they got away. After twenty-two miles of the hardest marching we've ever had, over mud roads, we got into bivouac about nine P. M. I had nothing but my overcoat, but I never slept sounder than I did that night on the leaves. I don't know whether I ever told you that I had been appointed ordnance officer of this regiment; such is the fact. Early Friday morning I started out to look up my three ammunition wagons. I found my armorer, who told me they were stuck fast about seven miles back on the road. Colonel Andrews, on hearing this, ordered me to take a guard and go back to them. This was pleasant, but no help for it. It took us till Saturday night to get those wagons up to this present camp, which is between Newmarket and Sparta.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 52-5

Major Wilder Dwight: September 4, 1861

pleasant Hill, Camp Near Darnestown,
September 4, 1861.

A picture! Life is but a series of them. Stand on a hill just above the creek. Let Major-General Banks, with all his unwon, untried, not to say uncomfortable or unfit, glories, be by your side. It is evening; you are at headquarters. The General will say, in full, deep tones, “A fine sight, Madam.” You will have anticipated his platitude; for you will find your eye filled with blazing camp-fires and bright-lighted tents, on every hillside within the circle of which you are a centre. Your ear will listen to the bands playing in every camp. The distance softens and harmonizes their discords. You have seen the camps at evening.

A night's rest under the tent, with two blankets and a bundle of straw extemporized into a bed, is a second picture. Your dream is interrupted by a clang of kettle and bass drums. It is the infernal reveillé of the Indiana Twelfth. Presently you hear a clear rattle and shrill fife, and recognize the reveillé of the drum-major of the Massachusetts Second. Follow it with your ear. You will see how it is measured. A little practice teaches the soldier at what point to open his eyes, when to throw back his blanket, and, at the moment, he is in ranks at the last ruffle of the drum. Regiments are known by their reveillés, you may say. But if you have obeyed the call, you will be looking upon the camps in the first glimmering of sunrise. You will glance at the old moon, in its second childhood almost as graceful as its first. You will see the men swarming from their tents into ranks. In half an hour the hills are alive with moving columns, and you are watching the morning drill.

It is afternoon. You have come to visit the camp of the Massachusetts Second. The General had at once pointed it out last evening. You then admired the regularity of its form. You now admire the neatness and order that you find within.

You go out in front and look over at the opposite hill, where the Regiment is in camp. The officer of the day in our camp is administering a punishment. The court-martial had sentenced a
drunken and insubordinate fellow to be tied to a tree for one hour three successive days. There he is tied. The Regiment catch sight of him. At once, in a disorderly mob, they rush to the edge of their hill. They cry, “Cut him down!” they groan and yell against us. Our guard is called out. Their officers cannot restore order, though they succeed in keeping their men within their lines. The punishment is concluded. Not a man in our lines stirs or speaks. You have contrasted the discipline of the two regiments. You have seen pictures enough, because you want to hear more of this one. Colonel Gordon, as Acting Brigadier, directs the arrest of the ringleaders of the Regiment, and of their officer of the day. The next morning, to wit, yesterday, the 3d September, Colonel comes to ask that the man may be tied somewhere where the regiment which he is commanded by cannot see him. Colonel Gordon says, No. General Banks, on being consulted by Colonel Gordon, directs him to go on. “Discipline must be maintained,” says the General. Colonel then goes to General Banks, and, by what persuasion we know not, wheedles out of him a recommendation to Colonel Gordon that the punishment be inflicted with less “publicity.” This recommendation comes just before the time for the punishment. General Banks cannot be found in season to give any explanation of his written recommendation. Colonel Gordon makes up his mind to tie the man in the same place and in the same way, come what may. It is done without trouble. But the recommendation from head-quarters has shaken our confidence. This illustrates the difficulties under which discipline is maintained. We are the only regiment that attempts it, and even the officers among our neighbors discountenance the severity which alone insures our discipline. But our men are getting, every day, a better tone. They pride themselves on the obvious contrast between their regiment and the others. They submit to the rules out of which this contrast comes. But the fact that the other regiments do as they please aggravates our difficulties and endangers our success. We are beginning to long for the direct command of McClellan, who would sustain our system without fear, favor, or affection. A political education does not favor the direct disregard of consequences which belongs to military command. Yet I do not wish to complain of General Banks. I think he means well, but I fear that he lacks a little either of education or confidence to push things through.

I have been working away at the deficiencies of our commissariat. I do not hesitate to say that its condition is disgraceful. No organization, and not even accidental and disproportioned abundance, in any direction. A general short commons. This we hope to remedy. But I do not make much progress. In fact, General Banks's division is not officered in the Quartermaster and Subsistence Departments as it should be. But enough of this. We are getting on well, and I only grumble because we might do so much better. To-day, again, the man shall be tied to the tree.

Yesterday morning we had a visit from General Reed, Albert Brown, the Governor's Secretary, and Mr. Dalton, the Massachusetts Agent. They seemed pleased with what they saw. But they only made a flying visit. They brought no news from home, but they brought the tale of Butler's achievement. “That's the talk,” say I. “Give ’em unexpected droppings in all along shore. Scatter them with vague dread. Make 'em constantly ask, ‘What’ll come next ?’” General Butler is in luck. He hasn't got a big lamp, but he brings it out after dark. In the night that surrounded Washington in April, he appeared with his farthing candle: men thought it a sun! Now, again, when the public longs for a glimmer of achievement, he strikes a light, and men are dazzled by even so small a blaze. Verily, opportunity has served him. But the move is in the right direction, and I applaud vehemently. I am just informed that the mail goes immediately, and must close my letter. We hear of a large mail on its way from Washington, and hope to get it to-morrow. It is nearly a week since I had a letter; but if men will go to Darnestown they must take the consequences. Love to all.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 92-5

Lydia Maria Child to Governor Henry A. Wise

In your civil but very diplomatic reply to my letter, you inform me that I have a constitutional right to visit Virginia, for peaceful purposes, in common with every citizen of the United States. I was perfectly well aware that such was the theory of constitutional obligation in the Slave States; but I was also aware of what you omit to mention, viz.: that the Constitution has, in reality, been completely and systematically nullified whenever it suited the convenience or the policy of the Slave Power. Your constitutional obligation, for which you profess so much respect, has never proved any protection to citizens of the Free States, who happened to have a black, brown, or yellow complexion; nor to any white citizen whom you even suspected of entertaining opinions opposite to your own, on a question of vast importance to the temporal welfare and moral example of our common country. This total disregard of constitutional obligation has been manifested not merely by the Lynch Law of mobs in the Slave States, but by the deliberate action of magistrates and legislators. What regard was paid to constitutional obligation in South Carolina, when Massachusetts sent the Hon. Mr. Hoar there as an envoy, on a purely legal errand? Mr. Hedrick, Professor of Political Economy in the University of North Carolina, had a constitutional right to reside in that State. What regard was paid to that right, when he was driven from his home, merely for declaring that he considered Slavery an impolitic system, injurious to the prosperity of States? What respect for constitutional rights was manifested by Alabama, when a bookseller in Mobile was compelled to flee for his life, because he had, at the special request of some of the citizens, imported a few copies of a novel that everybody was curious to road? Your own citizen, Mr. Underwood, had a constitutional right to live in Virginia, and vote for whomsoever he pleased. What regard was paid to his rights, when he was driven from your State for declaring himself in favor of the election of Fremont? With these, and a multitude of other examples before your eyes, it would seem as if the less that was said about respect for constitutional obligations at the South, the better. Slavery is, in fact, an infringement of all law, and adheres to no law, save for its own purposes of oppression.

You accuse Captain John Brown of “whetting knives of butchery for the mothers, sisters, daughters and babes” of Virginia; and you inform me of the well-known fact that he is “arraigned for the crimes of murder, robbery and treason.” I will not here stop to explain why I believe that old hero to be no criminal, but a martyr to righteous principles which he sought to advance by methods sanctioned by his own religious views, though not by mine. Allowing that Capt. Brown did attempt a scheme in which murder robbery and treason were, to his own consciousness, involved, I do not see how Gov. Wise can consistently arraign him for crimes he has himself commended. You have threatened to trample on the Constitution, and break the Union, if a majority of the legal voters in these Confederated States dared to elect a President unfavorable to the extension of Slavery. Is not such a declaration proof of premeditated treason? In the Spring of 1842, you made a speech in Congress, from which I copy the following: —

“Once set before the people of the Great Valley the conquest of the rich Mexican Provinces, and you might as well attempt to stop the wind. This Government might end its troops, but they would run over them like a herd of buffalo. Let the work once begin, and I do not know that this House would hold me very long. Give me five millions of dollars, and I would undertake to do it myself. Although I do not know how to set a single squadron in the field, I could find men to do it. Slavery should pour itself abroad, without restraint, and find no limit but the Southern Ocean. The Camanches should no longer hold the richest mines of Mexico. Every golden image which had received the profanation of a false worship, should soon be melted down into good American eagles. I would cause as much gold to cross the Rio del Norte as the mules of Mexico could carry; aye, and I would make better use of it, too, than any lazy, bigoted priesthood under heaven.”

When you thus boasted that you and your “booted loafers” would overrun the troops of the United States “like a herd of buffalo,” if the Government sent them to arrest your invasion of a neighboring nation, at peace with the United States, did you not pledge yourself to commit treason? Was it not by robbery, even of churches, that you proposed to load the mules of Mexico with gold for the United States? Was it not by the murder of unoffending Mexicans that you expected to advance those schemes of avarice and ambition? What humanity had you for Mexican “mothers and babes,” whom you proposed to make childless and fatherless‘? And for what purpose was this wholesale massacre to take place? Not to right the wrongs of any oppressed class; not to sustain any great principles of justice, or of freedom; but merely to enable “Slavery to pour itself forth without restraint.” Even if Captain Brown were as bad as you paint him, I should suppose he must naturally remind you of the words of Macbeth:

“We but teach,
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inventor: This even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice
To our own lips.”

If Captain Brown intended, as you say, to commit treason, robbery and murder, I think I have shown that he could find ample authority for such proceedings in the public declarations of Gov. Wise. And if, as he himself declares, he merely intended to free the oppressed, where could he read a more forcible lesson than is furnished by the State Seal of Virginia? I looked at it thoughtfully before I opened your letter; and though it had always appeared to me very suggestive, it never seemed to me so much so as it now did in connection with Captain John Brown. A liberty-loving hero stands with his foot upon a prostrate despot; under his strong arm, manacles and chains lie broken; and the motto is, “Sic Semper Tyrannis;” “Thus be it ever done to Tyrants.” And this is the blazon of a State whose most profitable business is the Internal Slave-Trade! — in whose highways coffles of human chattles, chained and manacled, are frequently seen! And the Seal and the Coffles are both looked upon by other chattels, constantly exposed to the same fate! What if some Vezey, or Nat Turner, should be growing up among those apparently quiet spectators? It is in no spirit of taunt or of exultation that I ask this question. I never think of it but with anxiety, sadness, and sympathy. I know that a slaveholding community necessarily lives in the midst of gunpowder; and, in this age, sparks of free thought are flying in every direction. You cannot quench the fires of free thought and human sympathy by any process of cunning or force; but there is a method by which you can effectually wet the gunpowder. England has already tried it, with safety and success. Would that you could be persuaded to set aside the prejudices of education, and candidly examine the actual working of that experiment! Virginia is so richly endowed by nature that Free Institutions alone are wanting to render her the most prosperous and powerful of the States.

In your letter, you suggest that such a scheme as Captain Brown’s is the natural result of the opinions with which I sympathize. Even if I thought this to be a correct statement, though I should deeply regret it, I could not draw the conclusion that humanity ought to be stifled, and truth struck dumb, for fear that long-successful despotism might be endangered by their utterance. But the fact is, you mistake the source of that strange outbreak. No abolition arguments or denunciations, however earnestly, loudly, or harshly proclaimed, would have produced that result. It was the legitimate consequence of the continual and constantly-increasing aggressions of the Slave Power. The Slave States, in their desperate efforts to sustain a bad and dangerous institution, have encroached more and more upon the liberties of the Free States. Our inherent love of law and order, and our superstitious attachment to the Union, you have mistaken for cowardice; and rarely have you let slip any opportunity to add insult to aggression.

The manifested opposition to Slavery began with the lectures and pamphlets of a few disinterested men and women, who based their movements upon purely moral and religious grounds; but their expostulations were met with a storm of rage, with tar and feathers, brickbats, demolished houses, and other applications of Lynch Law. When the dust of the conflict began to subside a little, their numbers were found to be greatly increased by the efforts to exterminate them. They had become an influence in the State too important to be overlooked by shrewd calculators. Political economists began to look at the subject from a lower point of view. They used their abilities to demonstrate that slavery was a wasteful system, and that the Free States were taxed, to an enormous extent, to sustain an institution which, at heart, two-thirds of them abhorred. The forty millions, or more, of dollars, expended in hunting Fugitive Slaves in Florida, under the name of the Seminole War, were adduced, as one item in proof, to which many more were added. At last, politicians were compelled to take some action on the subject. It soon became known to all the people that the Slave States had always managed to hold in their hands the political power of the Union, and that while they constituted only one-third of the white population of these States, they hold more than two-thirds of all the lucrative, and once honorable offices; an indignity to which none but a subjugated people had ever before submitted. The knowledge also became generally diffused, that while the Southern States owned their Democracy at home, and voted for them, they also systematically bribed the nominally Democratic party, at the North, with the offices adroitly kept at their disposal.

Through these, and other instrumentalities, the sentiments of the original Garrisonian Abolitionists became very widely extended, in forms more or less diluted. But by far the most efficient co-laborers we have ever had have been the Slave States themselves. By denying us the sacred Right of Petition, they roused the free spirit of the North, as it never could have been roused by the loud trumpet of Garrison, or the soul-animating bugle of Phillips. They bought the great slave, Daniel, and, according to their established usage, paid him no wages for his labor. By his cooperation, they forced the Fugitive Slave Law upon us, in violation of all our humane instincts and all our principles of justice. And what did they procure for the Abolitionists by that despotic process? A deeper and wider detestation of Slavery throughout the Free States, and the publication of Uncle Tom’s Cabin, an eloquent outburst of moral indignation, whose echoes wakened the world to look upon their shame.

By fillibustering and fraud, they dismembered Mexico, and having thus obtained the soil of Texas, they tried to introduce it as a Slave State into the Union. Failing to effect their purpose by constitutional means, they accomplished it by a most open and palpable violation of the Constitution, and by obtaining the votes of Senators on false pretences.*

Soon afterward, a Southern Slave Administration ceded to the powerful monarchy of Great Britain several hundred thousands of square miles, that must have been made into Free States, to which that same Administration had declared that the United States had “an unquestionable right;” and then they turned upon the weak Republic of Mexico, and, in order to make more Slave States, .wrested from her twice as many hundred thousands of square miles, to which we had not a shadow of right.

Notwithstanding all these extra efforts, they saw symptoms that the political power so long held with a firm grasp was in danger of slipping from their hands, by reason of the extension of Abolition sentiments, and the greater prosperity of Free States. Emboldened by continual success in aggression, they made use of the pretence of “Squatter Sovereignty” to break the league into which they had formerly cajoled the servile representatives of our blinded people, by which all the territory of the United States south of 36° 30’ was guaranteed to Slavery, and all north of it to Freedom. Thus Kansas became the battle-ground of the antagonistic elements in our Government. Ruflians hired by the Slave Power were sent thither temporarily, to do the voting, and drive from the polls the legal voters, who were often murdered in the process. Names, copied from the directories of cities in other States, were returned by thousands as legal voters in Kansas, in order to establish a Constitution abhorred by the people. This was their exemplification of Squatter Sovereignty. A Massachusetts Senator, distinguished for candor, courtesy, and stainless integrity, was half murdered by slaveholders, merely for having the manliness to state these facts to the assembled Congress of the nation. Peaceful emigrants from the North, who went to Kansas for no other purpose than to till the soil, erect mills, and establish manufactories, schools, and churches, were robbed, outraged, and murdered. For many months, a war more ferocious than the warfare of wild Indians was carried on against a people almost unresisting, because they relied upon the Central Government for aid. And all this while, the power of the United States, wielded by the Slave Oligarchy, was on the side of the aggressors. They literally tied the stones, and let loose the mad dogs. This was the state of things when the hero of Osawatomie and his brave sons went to the rescue. It was he who first turned the tide of Border-Ruffian triumph, by showing them that blows were to be taken as well as given.

You may believe it or not, Gov. Wise, but it is certainly the truth that, because slaveholders so recklessly sowed the wind in Kansas, they reaped a whirlwind at Harper’s Ferry.

The people of the North had a very strong attachment to the Union; but, by your desperate measures, you have weakened it beyond all power of restoration. They are not your enemies, as you suppose, but they cannot consent to be your tools for any ignoble task you may choose to propose. You must not judge of us by the crawling sinuosities of an Everett; or by our magnificent hound, whom you trained to hunt your poor cripples, and then sent him sneaking into a corner to die — not with shame for the base purposes to which his strength had been applied, but with vexation because you withheld from him the promised bone. Not by such as these must you judge the free, enlightened yeomanry of New England. A majority of them would rejoice to have the Slave States fulfil their oft-repeated threat of withdrawal from the Union. It has ceased to be a bugbear, for we begin to despair of being able, by any other process, to give the world the example of a real republic. The moral sense of these States is outraged by being accomplices in sustaining an institution vicious in all its aspects; and it is now generally understood that we purchase our disgrace at great pecuniary expense. If you would only make the offer of a separation in serious earnest, you would hear the hearty response of millions, “Go, gentlemen, and

‘Stand not upon the order of your going,
But go at once!’”

Yours, with all due respect,
L. MARIA CHILD.
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* The following Senators, Mr. Niles, of Connecticut, Mr. Dix, of New York, and Mr. Tappan, of Ohio, published statements that their votes had been obtained by false representations; and they declared that the case was the same with Mr. Heywood, of North Carolina.

SOURCE: The American Anti-Slavery Society, Correspondence between Lydia Maria Child and Gov. Wise and Mrs. Mason, of Virginia, p. 6-12

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Henry H. Williams to John Brown, October 12, 1857

Osawatomie, Oct. 12, 1857.
Captain Brown.

Dear Sir, — Learning that there is a messenger in town from you, I will take the opportunity to drop you a line. We are just through with the October election, and as far as this county is concerned it went off bright. This was owing in a great measure to our thorough military organization here, and the well-known reputation that our boys have for fighting. There were about four hundred and twenty-five votes cast in this county: about three hundred and fifty Free-State. I have a company organized here of about eighty men, and we drilled twice a week for several weeks previous to election, which no doubt had a wholesome effect upon the borderers. Our company is a permanent institution. We have sent on to St. Louis for three drums and two fifes. We are very poorly supplied with arms. However, I understand that you have some arms with you which you intend to bring into the Territory. I hope that you will not forget the boys here, a considerable number of whom have smelt gunpowder, and have had their courage tried on several occasions. I do not like to boast, but I think we have some of the best fighting stock here that there is in the Territory. Speaking of arms reminds me that there was a box containing five dozen revolvers sent to you at Lawrence last fall to be distributed by you to your boys. K. and W. — two renegade Free-State men from here — went up to Lawrence about that time, told a pitiful tale, and said that they were your boys; and the committee that had the revolvers in charge gave them each one, and a Sharpe's rifle. A few days after, I was in Lawrence, and applied to the committee to know if they intended to distribute the revolvers; if they did, that I would like to have one. They refused, however, to let me have one, because forsooth I could not tell as big a yarn about what I had done for the Free-State cause as K. and W. could. I have since learned that the committee have distributed the revolvers to the “Stubs” and others about Lawrence, with the understanding that they are to return them at your order. But I think it is doubtful if you get them. There has been plenty of Sharpe's rifles and other arms distributed at Manhattan and other points remote from the Border, where they never have any disturbances, and a Border Ruffian is a curiosity; while along the Border here, where we are liable to have an outbreak at any time, we have had no arms distributed at all.

Two or three weeks before election I visited the Border counties south of this, and organized a company of one hundred men on the Little Osage, and a company on Sugar Creek; also at Stanton and on the Pottawatomie above this point. According to the election returns, we have done much better in this and the Border counties south than they have in the Border counties north of this point. The boys would like to see you and shake you by the hand once more. Nearly all would unite in welcoming you back here; those that would not, you have nothing to fear from in this locality. The sentiment of the people and the strength and energy of the Free-State party here exercise a wholesome restraint upon those having Border Ruffian proclivities.

Yours as of old for the right,
HENRy H. Williams.1
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1 This letter was addressed “To Captain John Brown, Tabor, Fremont County, Iowa,” and among Brown's papers was accompanied with the following memorandum of the distribution made at Lawrence of the arms which Mr. Williams mentions, and which are the same spoken of by Mr. White in his testimony on page 342.

SOURCE: Franklin B. Sanborn, The Life and Letters of John Brown, p. 364-6