Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Lou Thompson, August 22, 1861

Camp Causten, Aug. 22d, 1861.

My dear Cousin Lou:

What a pleasant thing it is to live, and how I do enjoy it here on the banks of the Potomac. I do not believe God ever made a more beautiful land than this. How I would fight for it if I believed it threatened by an unscrupulous foe! Cousin Lou, I used to think the “booty and beauty” allusion a sort of poor joke, too sorry even for ridicule, but I now see it as the cunning work of the far-sighted master who knew his people.

By-the-way do you know we are now encamped on the Kosciusko farm, and near by the house still stands where the patriot lived? I was walking in a cornfield today, and spied the silk drooping from one of the ears, dyed a deep red. I plucked it, and send it now to you in memory of Kosciusko, or if you like it better, in memory of Cousin Will. Bother! I was getting sentimental, when a gust of wind tore up the tent pins and blew out the candle. One has great experiences in camp. The other night I was softly slumbering, dreaming of Dolly Ann or of cutting a Secessionist's throat, or something agreeable at any rate, when I heard a sound like that of mighty waters — I felt the waves washing over me — then followed a chilly sensation. I awoke. The stars were above me and by my side lay a sea of canvas — “in short,” as Mr. Micawber would say, my tent was blown down. Another night my tent was pitched on the side of a steep hill. I wrapped myself in my blanket, braced my feet against the tent-pole and fell asleep. In the night my knees relaxed, and no longer prevented by the prop, I slid quietly downward, awaking in the morning at a good night's march from the point at which I first lay down to rest.

Much obliged for the information you send me regarding that youngest son of the Earl of Montrose, who came to America and graduated at Yale College. I always knew I was of noble degree, and have felt my blood preeminently Scotch since the first time I heard Aunt Caroline singing “Where, and oh where is my Highland Laddie gone?” I look too, admiringly upon the queenly Julia, and I say, “Nay, nay, but there's no churl's blood there.” In beatific vision the sisters five file past me; then comes long lanky Sylvester Vegetable Graham, leanest of men, with a bag of oatmeal, and I say to myself, “verily my blood is very Scotch.”

Give my best love to that wee mite of a little lady, who is to have the delightful honor of taking charge of my wooden leg, when I return from the wars a garrulous one-legged old soldier. Imagine me, Cousin Lou, tripping it at my own wedding not on the light fantastic, but on timber toes. Now let us consider the matter, Cousin Lou. Shall the leg be a real timber one though, or shall a compromise be made with Nature, and one of the flexible Anglesea pattern be chosen?

Alas, alas! All day long we have heard guns firing in the distance. Some poor fellows must have fallen, though we get no intelligence of movements made. We are left out of the question. There is a great battle soon to take place, but I fear the 79th is too much crippled to make a great show. We numbered once a thousand gallant hearts — we number now 700 men capable for action; to such a pass we have been reduced by death and what is worse, by desertion. Officers have deserted, and the men have followed the base example. I have seen enough to convince me that this is no war for foreigners. It is our war, and let us cheerfully bear the burden ourselves. The South sends its best blood to fight for a phantom, but we, in the North, send our scum and filth to fight for a reality. It is not thus we are to gain the victory. I would have all our Northern youth not talk, but act — not deem their lives so precious as their honor. Have you read the names of those who resigned their commissions after the Battle of Manassas? The names of over 250 cowards. Life is sweet to all, but have they no trust in God that they fear the bitterness of death? Love to all friends in Enfield. I must say good-night.

Au-Revoir,

Will.

I did not serve as a private but in the capacity of Lieut, at Bull Run.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 77-80

Diary of Colonel William F. Bartlett: Thursday, May 21, 1863

Ordered to move at six A. M. I rode in the buggy; kept the horses near, in case I should want them. We had advanced about three and a half miles, when we were saluted by some shells from rebel batteries ahead. I immediately got on my horse Billy. I had to be pretty careful to keep my balance, as I felt very shaky still.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 64-5

Diary of Gideon Welles: Wednesday, September 24, 1862

Secretary Smith called this morning. Said he had just had an interview with Judge-Advocate Turner, who related a conversation which had taken place between himself (T.) and Colonel Key, one of Halleck's staff. T. had expressed to K. his surprise that McClellan had not followed up the victory last week by pursuing the Rebels and capturing them or cutting them in pieces. That, said K., is not the policy. Turner asked what, then, was the policy. Key said it was one of exhaustion; that it would have been impolitic and injudicious to have destroyed the Rebel army, for that would have ended the contest without any compromise, and it was the army policy at the right time to compel the opposing forces to adopt a compromise.¹

Smith assures me that Turner made to him this communication. It is most extraordinary, yet entirely consistent with current events and what Wilson and others have stated. While I can hardly give credit to the statement, the facts can be reconciled with every action or inaction, — with wasted energies, fruitless campaigns, and barren fights. Smith fully believes it.

Had an impertinent letter from Senator John P. Hale, who asks for copies of different opinions given me by the Attorney-General on the subject of appointing midshipmen, and cautioning me not to disregard the plain language of the law, whatever might be the opinion of the Attorney-General. Informed Senator Hale that I had the unofficial advice instead of the official opinion of the law officer of the Government, given as a patriot and statesman, recommending that the appointments should be made, whatever might be the preliminary forms rendered impossible by the anomalous condition of the country; that every person whom I had consulted — and I had consulted many — concurred in giving similar advice; that it accorded with my own views, etc., etc.; that I had made the appointments before receiving his letter indicating, on his part, an opposite policy.

That he will assail these appointments I have little doubt, his object being in this instance to attack the Attorney-General, whom he cannot use, rather than myself, though willing to assail both provided he can do so successfully. With some humor but little industry, some qualities as a jester and but few as a statesman, I have not much respect for this Senatorial buffoon, who has neither application nor fidelity, who is neither honest nor sincere. Such men are not useful legislators.

As I write, 9 P.M., a band of music strikes up on the opposite side of the square, a complimentary serenade to the President for the Emancipation Proclamation. The document has been in the main well received, but there is some violent opposition, and the friends of the measure have made this demonstration to show their approval.

_______________

¹ Major John J. Key was summarily called upon by the President to account for his language, stingingly rebuked, and forthwith discharged from the service.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 146-7

Diary of Salmon P. Chase: Wednesday, September 24, 1862

The President called a special meeting of the Cabinet to-day, and asked our judgments on two questions:

First, as to the expediency of Treaties with Governments desiring their immigration, for voluntary colonization of blacks.

Second, As to the proper answer to be returned to the letter from John Ross, excusing the Treaty of the Cherokees with the Rebels, and asking the protection of the United States and the fulfilment of old Treaties.

On the first question, there was the usual diversity of opinion. I not thinking Colonization in its self desirable, except as a means of getting a foothold in Central America,¹ thought no Treaties expedient; but simple arrangements, under the legislation of Congress by which any person who might choose to emigrate, would be secured in such advantages as might be offered them by other States or Governments. Seward rather favored Treaties, but evidently did not think much of the wisdom of any measures for sending out of the country laborers needed here. The President asked us to think of the subject, and be ready to express our opinions when we next come together.

As to the Cherokee question there seemed to be a general concurrence that no new pledges should be given them but that, at the end of the war, their condition and relation to the United States should have just consideration.

After Cabinet, went with Stanton to War Department, and laid before him sundry applications for positions, with such verbal support as I thought due to them. Returning to the Department, I found there young Mr. Walley, and gave him an earnest recommendation to Stanton; and was surprised, an hour or so after, to receive a note from him thanking me for my kindness, but saying that Mr. Stanton told him there was no likelihood of his receiving an appointment; and that he was going to enlist as a private. Wrote note to Mr. Walley (his father) expressing my regret.

Nothing at Department but routine — except direction to Cisco to receive deposits of gold, and a call from Eli Thayer about his project for colonizing East Florida, with which I sympathize.

Had proposed to Genl. Garfield to take him over and call on Genl. Hooker, but it rained and he did not come. After dinner, however, the sky cleared some what, and Katie and I rode out and called on him. He was still improving.

An hour or two after our return, a band of music, which had just serenaded the President by way of congratulation on the Proclamation, came to my house and demanded a speech — with which demand I complied briefly. Gen. Clay, who was with me, responded more at length. After the crowd had passed on, Gen. Clay, Mr. Clark, of Mercer, Penna., Genl. Robinson, of Pittsburgh, and Mr. Wm. D. Lewis, of Philadelphia, came in and spent a little time with me.

_______________

¹ Chase, like Seward, contemplated the expansion of the United States southward to the Isthmus. See his letter to James H. Smith, May 8, 1849.

SOURCE: Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 92-4

Count Adam Gurowski to James S. Pike, April 16, 1860

New York, Monday, April 16.

Dear Yankee: Congratulate Mr. Potter for me from the bottom of my heart.

What is the talk about code of honor? There is and never was such a codification in Europe among the genuine chivalry for these one thousand years, neither among nobles of any country of Europe. There is a kind of common law which every one knows, and a practice of details which is acquired in the same way as by a lawyer. I fought more than thirty duels, was second perhaps sixty times at least, and all with gentlemen and noblemen, and never heard of code of honor or absolute rule about weapons. If there is any code, rule, or common law about it, it is this: that cowards only refuse when a weapon magnifies danger. I assisted to duels, as second, when one of the combatants, pistols in hand, proposed to approach each other from ten paces (the original distance) to three. It was accepted. Old and hoary as I am, and never having really seen the use of a bowie-knife, I would accept it if I still should insist on my reputation as duellist. We Polish nobility, we fight generally with short, half-round Turkish swords. It makes ugly gashes, and I saw bowels come out once.

Mrs. Potter is a Spartan lady, and has a true gentleman for a husband. Greeley is an ass.

Yours,

Gurowski.

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

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

Headquarters, Fort Sumter, S. C.,

January 11, 1861.

To His Excellency F. W. Pickens,

Governor of South Carolina.

Sir: I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your demand for the surrender of this fort to the authorities in South Carolina, and to say in reply that the demand is one with which I cannot comply. Your Excellency knows that I have recently sent a messenger to Washington, and that it will be impossible for me to receive an answer to my despatch forwarded by him, at an earlier date than next Monday. What the character of my instructions may be, I cannot foresee.

Should your Excellency deem fit, prior to a resort to arms, to refer this matter to Washington, it would afford me the sincerest pleasure to depute one of my officers to accompany any messenger you may deem proper to be the bearer of your demand. Hoping to God that in this and all other matters in which the honor, welfare and life of our fellow-countrymen are concerned, we shall so act as to meet His approval, and deeply regretting that you have made a demand with which I cannot comply,

I have the honor to be, with the highest regard,

Your obedient servant,

robert Anderson,

Major U. S. Army, Commanding.

SOURCE: Samuel Wylie Crawford, The Genesis of the Civil War: The Story of Sumter, 1860-1861, p. 194

Diary of William Howard Russell: April 17, 1861

The streets of Charleston present some such aspect as those of Paris in the last revolution. Crowds of armed men singing and promenading the streets. The battle-blood running through their veins — that hot oxygen which is called “the flush of victory” on the cheek; restaurants full, revelling in bar-rooms, club-rooms crowded, orgies and earousings in tavern or private house, in tap-room, from cabaret — down narrow alleys, in the broad highway. Sumter has set them distraught; never was such a victory; never such brave lads; never such a fight. There are pamphlets already full of the incident. It is a bloodless Waterloo or Solferino.

After breakfast I went down to the quay, with a party of the General's staff, to visit Fort Sumter. The senators and governors turned soldiers wore blue military caps, with “palmetto” trees embroidered thereon; blue frock-coats, with upright collars, and shoulder-straps edged with lace, and marked with two silver bars, to designate their rank of captain; gilt buttons, with the palmetto in relief; blue trousers, with a gold-lace cord, and brass spurs — no straps. The day was sweltering, but a strong breeze blew in the harbor, and puffed the dust of Charleston, coating our clothes, and filling our eyes with powder. The streets were crowded with lanky lads, clanking spurs, and sabres, with awkward squads marching to and fro, with drummers beating calls, and ruffles, and points of war; around them groups of grinning negroes delighted with the glare and glitter, a holiday, and a new idea for them — Secession flags waving out of all the windows — little Irish boys shouting out, “Battle of Fort Sumter! New edishun!” — As we walked down towards the quay, where the steamer was lying, numerous traces of the unsettled state of men's minds broke out in the hurried conversations of the various friends who stopped to speak for a few moments. “Well, governor, the old Union is gone at last!” “Have you heard what Abe is going to do?” “I don't think Beauregard will have much more fighting for it. What do you think?” And so on. Our little Creole friend, by the by, is popular beyond description. There are all kinds of doggerel rhymes in his honor — one with a refrain —“With cannon and musket, with shell and petard, We salute the North with our Beau-regard” — is much in favor. We passed through the market, where the stalls are kept by fat negresses and old “unkeys.” There is a sort of vulture or buzzard here, much encouraged as scavengers, and — but all the world has heard of the Charleston vultures — so we will leave them to their garbage. Near the quay, where the steamer was lying, there is a very fine building in white marble, which attracted our notice. It was unfinished, and immense blocks of the glistening stone destined for its completion, lay on the ground. “What is that?” I inquired, “Why, it's a custom-house Uncle Sam was building for our benefit, but I don't think he'll ever raise a cent for his treasury out of it.” “Will you complete it?” “I should think not. We'll lay on few duties; and what we want is free-trade, and no duties at all, except for public purposes. The Yankees have plundered us with their custom-houses and duties long enough.” An old gentleman here stopped us. “You will do me the greatest favor,” he said to one of our party who knew him, “if you will get me something to do for our glorious cause. Old as I am, I can carry a musket — not far, to be sure, but I can kill a Yankee if he comes near.” When he had gone, my friend told me the speaker was a man of fortune, two of whose sons were in camp at Morris' Island, but that he was suspected of Union sentiments, as he had a Northern wife, and hence his extreme vehemence and devotion.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 98-100

John L. Motley to Anna Lothrop Motley, December 16, 1861

Vienna, December 16, 1861.

My Dearest Mother: It is painful to me to write under such circumstances, but I suppose it is better to send a line. While I write, we have not yet received a telegram of the steamer Asia, to leave December 4, and to bring the President's message. Perhaps before this note is posted this afternoon it will arrive. The telegrams are always sent to me in manuscript by my bankers here very soon after they arrive, and I cannot tell you the sickening feeling of anxiety with which we look at the little bit of folded paper brought in by a servant on a salver, which I always take up between my thumb and finger with loathing, as if it were a deadly asp about to sting us. If the President does not commit the government in his message I shall breathe again. I do not enter into the law or the history. I simply feel that if a war is to take place now between England and America I shall be in danger of losing my reason. To receive at this distance those awful telegrams day by day announcing, in briefest terms, bombardment of Boston, destruction of the Federal fleet, occupation of Washington and New York by the Confederates and their English allies, and all these thousand such horrors, while I am forced to sit so far away, will be too much to bear.

It is mere brag and fustian to talk about fighting England and the South at once, and I have a strong hope that Mr. Chase, who has to find the money, and General McClellan, who knows whether he has not already got enough on his own shoulders, will prevent this consummation of our ruin. If we are capable of taking a noble stand now, if we hold on to our traditional principle, the rights of neutrals and the freedom of the seas, instead of copying the ancient practice of England, we shall achieve the greatest possible triumph. We shall have peace by announcing to the world a high and noble policy, instead of desperate warfare by adopting an abominable one. The English government has fortunately given us a chance by resting its case on the impropriety of allowing a naval officer to act as judge of admiralty.¹ When I first wrote to you on this subject I had only a word or two of information by telegraph, and that was exaggerated. The English demand seemed a declaration of war. It appears that it is not so, and I have still a faint hope. I will say no more on the subject. We are beginning to get accustomed to Vienna. It is a somber place at first, and our feelings about home just now would serve as a pall for the mansions of the blessed. The diplomatic corps are all friendly and cordial, and we are beginning to see something of the Viennese. But I have no heart for anything.

God bless you, my dear mother. Heaven grant that there may be some better news coming!

Your ever-affectionate son,

J. L. M.

P. S. I have just got a telegram that the President does not mention the Trent affair. This is a blessed sign.

_______________

¹ This point was treated fully in Mr. Seward's letter to the British minister, announcing the release of Messrs. Slidell and Mason.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 223-4

John M. Forbes to Congressman Charles B. Sedgwick, June 2, 1862

June 2,1862.

My Dear Mr. Sedgwick, — I see I forgot the 21stly, as the old parsons used to say, of my sermon; my amen to your emancipation speech.

If you have such a devilish poor set in Congress that they are afraid to pass your bill, for freeing such slaves as come to our aid, you had better give up trying for any emancipation bill until Parson Brownlow, General Rodgers, and other pro-slavery border state men have cultivated the manliness of Congress up to the Tennessee standard! Why, I hear that the border state Unionists everywhere are in advance of Congress, and go for strangling the rebellion through its vitals, not pinching the ends of its toes! Rather than take anything worse than your bill, I would trust to old Abe's being pushed up to the use of the military powers of emancipation. What infernal nonsense is your present law, making freedom the reward of those who serve the enemy, while their masters only promise them hanging and burning if they serve us.

You carry on the war in such a manner that either slaves or other loyal men in the border and rebel States have one plain road to safety open; namely, to help the rebels. You reward the slaves with freedom for such help: you offer them no reward, except the chance of being shot by us and hanged by their masters, if they come into our lines! . . .

Your lame confiscation bill will be no terror to the rebels, but rather an indication of the mildness with which you will treat them hereafter, and the many exceptions you will make if you pass any confiscation acts.

I only wonder with such a policy that any Union men show their heads! All your efforts seem to be to make rebellion cheap and easy, and loyalty hard and dangerous.

In great haste, I bide yours,

J. M. Forbes

SOURCE: Sarah Forbes Hughes, Letters and Recollections of John Murray Forbes, Volume 1, p. 315-6

Charles Eliot Norton to George William Curtis, Sunday Evening, September 25, 1864

Sunday evening, 25 September, 1864.

. . . We had a pleasant Club dinner yesterday.  . . . Sumner has toned down greatly since it seems certain that Lincoln is to be reelected. His opinion of Lincoln “is at least not higher than it was three years ago.” An officer, just from Atlanta, came in and told us some good stories of Sherman, — and of the transportation department of the army. There has been a corps of six thousand men detailed to keep the Rail Road from Nashville to Atlanta in order. The bridge across the Chattahoochie, — a railroad bridge seven hundred and eight feet long, and ninety-three feet high, was built in four days. The army has been well supplied, in great measure with canned food; — “Yes,” said Sherman, “I am perfectly satisfied with the transportation service, — it has given us abundance of desecrated vegetables and consecrated milk.”

This as a pendant to his recent letters. What a week this last has been for good letters! Two from Lincoln, that are worthy of the best letter-writer of the time, — so simple, manly, and direct; one from Grant, not less simple and straightforward, clearing the air with its plain frankness from rumours and innuendoes, and affording a most striking contrast to the letters which Mr. Lincoln was in the habit of receiving from a former Commander-in-Chief; and two from Sherman, masterpieces of strong sense in strong words. How his wrath swells and grows till it bursts in “Tell that to the Marines,” and with what indignant common-sense does he reject the canting appeal to God and humanity of the Southern slave-drivers. He writes as well as he fights. . . .

SOURCE: Sara Norton and  M. A. DeWolfe Howe, Letters of Charles Eliot Norton, Volume 1, p. 279-80

Charles Eliot Norton to George William Curtis, October 18, 1864

Shady Hill, October 18,1864.

. . . When I got home last Wednesday night I found a telegram from Goldwin Smith to say that he had been detained by a calm, and would be with us the next day, — but it was not till Friday that he reached us, — and here he is still with us — at this instant writing at the table in the Library while I am in the little study. He is a most pleasant inmate, — and his appreciation of America and of our cause is so just, so clear, and so complete, that there are few Americans who at a time like this would be more sympathetic, or more truly genial.

He suffers in domestic life from an English education, which has enforced reserve and want of quick reciprocation of expression on a character naturally open and sensitively sympathetic. He has had no home life to bring out and develope the power of quick responsiveness. At six years old he was sent to school, and he has never lived at home since. But it would be doing him great injustice were I to imply that there is any marked defect in his manner as a mere manner of society, — it is only as an intimate domestic manner that it sometimes fails, and then, (as I have said,) rather from want of practice in the expression of feeling than from absence of the feeling itself.

We are doing a good deal during his visit, and talking as men talk when they really have something to say and something to learn from each other. He will be with us till the end of next week.

The “Review” has just passed into the hands of Ticknor & Fields. This is still a secret. I am glad of it, for I retain as absolute control as ever, and T. & F. are much better able to give the “Review” a wide circulation than Crosby was. . . .

SOURCE: Sara Norton and  M. A. DeWolfe Howe, Letters of Charles Eliot Norton, Volume 1, p. 280-1

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, April 28, 1862

April 28, 1862.

Yesterday, having just completed the usual Sunday inspection, we received an order in hot haste to get ready at once with one day's rations to make a reconnoissance. Our regiment, the Twenty-seventh Indiana, and eight hundred of the Vermont cavalry, formed the party. We went out on the Gordonsville road about nine or ten miles and drove in the rebel pickets, forcing them to display near two thousand cavalry and four regiments of infantry; this showed pretty plainly their position, and our object was accomplished. Jackson has apparently been reinforced by about five thousand troops, and is now in an entrenched position just the other side of the south fork of the Shenandoah, with a bridge between us and them, which has been stuffed full of combustibles ready to burn on our approach. We took two of Ashby's cavalry prisoners, and one of our cavalry was killed.

After a hard twenty-mile walk, we got back to camp about eight P. M. Our division (General Williams's) marched to this place last Thursday, eighteen miles from Newmarket. We are now distant from Staunton twenty-five miles, and from Gordonville sixty-five. The enemy have saved us the trouble of going to the former place by turning off on the Gordonville road. I suppose by this time some of General Fremont's force must be in Staunton.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 55

Major Wilder Dwight to 1st Lieutenant Howard Dwight, September 6, 1861

pleasant Hill, Camp Near Darnestown,

September 6, 1861.

Dear Howard, — Advice is cheap. When lost it goes to the moon, according to the old superstition, and does no harm. Hear mine. General Fremont is on his way to Memphis. As sure as sunrise he will go there. Go with him. Now is the opportunity for adventure, for success. Energy and aptitude are in demand. This autumn they will bear fruit. The wheel is entitled to every man's shoulder; offer yours. In other words, pack your trunk, take a few letters of introduction and authentication from the Governor and others, go to Fremont, tell him you wish to serve in his army You will do yourself credit, and be in the midst of some of the most brilliant achievements of the war. I have said my say, after reflection, and from a near view of the field.

Yours affectionately,

Wilder Dwight.

To Lieutenant Howard Dwight.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 95-6

Harvey B. Hurd to John Brown, April 1, 1857

Chicago, April 1, 1857.

Captain John Brown, Springfield, Mass.

At a meeting of the National Kansas Committee, held this day, it was

Resolved, That as according to the present state of the public feeling, evinced by the almost total cessation of contributions to the funds of the committee, it appears that the means of carrying on our operations will not be forthcoming from the usual sources; therefore, it is expedient to take immediate measures to settle the liabilities, and close the accounts of the committee, and to reduce the current expenses to the lowest possible point; and that the secretary be instructed to take measures accordingly.

Resolved, further, That the secretary be instructed to write to the members of the committee residing in other cities, — to Messrs. Greeley & McElrath, Hon. Gerrit Smith, and other prominent donors and friends, — setting forth the fact of the cessation of contributions as above stated, and the necessity we are under of closing our operations, unless immediately sustained by liberal contributions.

We are sorry to be obliged to come to the above conclusion, but are compelled to do so. There are several important undertakings now in hand, which we shall have to abandon, unless further means are forthcoming. The committee are at present out of money, and are compelled to decline sending you the five hundred dollars you speak of. They are sorry this has become the case, but it was unavoidable. I need not state to you all the reasons why. The country has stopped sending us contributions, and we have no means of replenishing our treasury. We shall need to have aid from some quarter to enable us to meet our present engagements.

I send you a copy of the list of articles selected for you by Mr. Arny. Our opinion is that some things have been selected that you do not need; such, for instance, as quilts, unless it is intended to supply the families of the company, and mits, which I suppose means ladies' mits. If he means mittens they would be useful.¹

Yours, etc.,

H. B. Hurd.

Secretary National Kansas Committee.

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¹ Upon this is the following indorsement in the handwriting of John Brown: “H. B. Hurd. Needs no comment.”

SOURCE: Franklin B. Sanborn, The Life and Letters of John Brown, p. 367

Mrs. M. J. G. Mason to Lydia Maria Child, November 11, 1859

ALTO, King George’s Co., Va., Nov. 11th, 1859.

Do you read your Bible, Mrs. Child? If you do, read there, “Woe unto you, hypocrites,” and take to yourself with two-fold damnation that terrible sentence; for, rest assured, in the day of judgment it shall be more tolerable for those thus scathed by the awful denunciation of the Son of God, than for you. You would soothe with sisterly and motherly care the hoary-headed murderer of Harper’s Ferry! A man whose aim and intention was to incite the horrors of a servile war — to condemn women of your own race, ere death closed their eyes on their sufferings from violence and outrage, to see their husbands and fathers murdered, their children butchered, the ground strewed with the brains of their babes. The antecedents of Brown’s band proved them to have been the off-scourings of the earth; and what would have been our fate had they found as many sympathizers in Virginia as they seem to have in Massachusetts?

Now, compare yourself with those your “ sympathy ” would devote to such ruthless ruin, and say, on that “word of honor, which never has been broken,” would you stand by the bedside of an old negro, dying of a hopeless disease, to alleviate his sufferings as far as human aid could? Have you, ever watched the last, lingering illness of a consumptive, to soothe, as far as in you lay, the inevitable fate? Do you soften the pangs of maternity in those around you by all the care and comfort you can give? Do you grieve with those near you, even though their sorrows resulted from their own misconduct? Did you ever sit up until the “wee hours” to complete a. dress for a motherless child, that she might appear on Christmas day in a new one, along with her more fortunate companions? We do these and more for our servants, and why? Because we endeavor to do our duty in that state of life it has pleased God to place us. In his revealed word we read our duties to them – theirs to us are there also — “Not only to the good and gentle, but to the froward.” – (Peter 2:18.) Go thou and do likewise, and keep away from Charlestown. If the stories read in the public prints be true, of the sufferings of the poor of the North, you need not go far for objects of charity. “Thou hypocrite! take first the beam out of thine own eye, then shalt thou see clearly to pull the mote out of thy neighbor’s.” But if, indeed, you do lack objects of sympathy near you, go to Jefferson county, to the family of George Turner, a noble, true-hearted man, whose devotion to his friend (Col. Washington) causing him to risk his life, was shot down like a dog. Or to that of old Beckham, whose grief at the murder of his negro subordinate made him needlessly expose himself to the aim of the assassin Brown. And when you can equal in deeds of love and charity to those around you, what is shown by nine-tenths of the Virginia plantations, then by your “sympathy” whet the knives for our throats, and kindle the torch that fires our homes. You reverence Brown for his clemency to his prisoners! Prisoners! and how taken? Unsuspecting workmen, going to their daily duties; unarmed gentlemen, taken from their beds at the dead hour of the night, by six men doubly and trebly armed. Suppose he had hurt a hair of their heads, do you suppose one of the band of desperadoes would have left the engine-house alive? And did he not know that his treatment of them was his only hope of life then, or of clemency afterward? Of course he did. The United States troops could not have prevented him from being torn limb from limb.

I will add, in conclusion, no Southerner ought, after your letter to Governor Wise and to Brown, to read a line of your composition, or to touch a magazine which bears your name in its lists of contributors; and in this we hope for the “sympathy,” at least of those at the North who deserve the name of woman.

M. J. G. MASON.

SOURCES: The American Anti-Slavery Society, Correspondence between Lydia Maria Child and Gov. Wise and Mrs. Mason, of Virginia, p. 16-9; 

Brigadier-General Gouverneur K. Warren to Major-General John Sedgwick, May 4, 1863

HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,

May 4, 1863 – [Hour not stated.]

General SEDGWICK:

I have reported your situation to General Hooker. I find that we contracted our lines here somewhat during the morning, and repulsed the enemy's last assault with ease. The troops are in good position. General H. says you are separated from him so far that he cannot advise you how to act. You need not try to force the position you attacked at 5 p.m. Look to the safety of your corps. You can retire, if necessary, by way of Fredericksburg or Banks' Ford. The latter would enable you to join us more readily.

 G. K. WARREN,

Brigadier-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 25, Part 2 (Serial No. 40), p. 410

Major-General Joseph Hooker’s General Orders No. 49

GENERAL ORDERS No. 49.

HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,

Camp near Falmouth, Va., May 6, 1863.

The major-general commanding tenders to this army his congratulations on its achievements of the last seven days. If it has not accomplished all that was expected, the reasons are well known to the army. It is sufficient to say they were of a character not to be foreseen or prevented by human sagacity or resource.

In withdrawing from the south bank of the Rappahannock before delivering a general battle to our adversaries, the army has given renewed evidence of its confidence in itself and its fidelity to the principles it represents. In fighting at a disadvantage, we would have been recreant to our trust, to ourselves, our cause, and our country.

Profoundly loyal, and conscious of its strength, the Army of the Potomac will give or decline battle whenever its interest or honor may demand. It will also be the guardian of its own history and its own fame.

By our celerity and secrecy of movement, our advance and passage of the rivers were undisputed, and on our withdrawal not a rebel ventured to follow.

The events of the last week may swell with pride the heart of every officer and soldier of this army. We have added new luster to its former renown. We have made long marches, crossed rivers, surprised the enemy in his intrenchments, and whenever we have fought have inflicted heavier blows than we have received.

We have taken from the enemy 5,000 prisoners; captured and brought off seven pieces of artillery, fifteen colors; placed hors de combat 18,000 of his chosen troops; destroyed his depots filled with vast amounts of stores; deranged his communications; captured prisoners within the fortifications of his capital, and filled his country with fear and consternation.

We have no other regret than that caused by the loss of our brave companions, and in this we are consoled by the conviction that they have fallen in the holiest cause ever submitted to the arbitrament of battle.

By command of Major-General Hooker.

 S. WILLIAMS,

 Assistant Adjutant-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 25, Part 1 (Serial No. 39), p. 171

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw Lowell, September 27, 1864 – 7 a.m.

Staunton, 7 A. M., Sept. 27, 1864.

I didn't tell you what a magnificent spring-wagon I have now, — four stylish white horses and driver to manoeuvre them, — it beats Tyler's red turnout, I think: it's for you to ride out in next winter. In this army (and in the Army of the Potomac) some such affair is a recognized part of a brigade commander's equipment, — general orders always mention a spring-wagon for each headquarters, &c, — so you see we are likely to be very magnificent this winter, — as commanding the Regular Brigade I am expected to indulge in even more luxe than my neighbours, — we shall quite disappoint the world,— shan't we,— with our republican simplicity! I haven't told you either that, the day before yesterday at Luray, I organized a small black boy, bright enough and well brought up; his name is James, but as we have already two of that name about here, I call him Luray, which is quite aristocratic. You can teach him to read and to write this winter, if you have time. The Doctor thinks you would find more satisfaction in him than in your pupils of Vienna.

I wish you could see the splendid country we are in, — we are about one mile beyond Staunton, facing towards the Blue Ridge — we have found out pretty well where the Rebs are, and I have a notion that we shall be getting back pretty soon toward the infantry.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 350-1

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw Lowell, September 28, 1864

Waynesboro, Sept. 28, 1864.

I expect orders to move very soon, — we have a way now of marching late into the night and of starting very early in the morning, which is not very pleasant.

I used to look forward to things somehow — now I don't look forward, but all the old pleasure of looking forward seems to be stirred in with things as they come along. I can't explain what I mean, but the difference is immense.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 351

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw Lowell, September 30, 1864

Near Mt. Crawford, Sept. 30, 1864.

We did leave Waynesboro' the other afternoon, and in a hurry, — what was left of Early's army came in upon our left flank and came near doing us a mischief, but we got away in the dark and marching all night reached here yesterday evening, — and are safe under the wing of the infantry. Colonel Crowninshield lost "Jim" (his old sorrel, you know, which you used to recognize so often), and in the march lost “Tinker” and the pack-mule which carried his mess things. Mr. Kinny got a slight wound from a spent ball and Lieutenant Woodman had his leg broken, and the ball is still in, making an ugly wound. I had a horse hit, but only slightly, — a Sergeant of the Second Cavalry claims to have saved my life by running in and getting very badly sabred himself.¹

Here we are all safe and comfortable again, however, after a long night's sleep, — to bed at 9, and not up till 6.30.

_______________

¹ On September 26, Wilson's division and Lowell's brigade of the First Division had moved towards Staunton, and made large captures there of arms, equipments, and stores; next day they went to Waynesboro', and, on the 28th, destroyed the railroad bridge over the South Fork of the Shenandoah. In the afternoon they were attacked, and, to avoid being cut off, retired on the main army. September 29, Colonel Lowell was ordered, with his command, to rejoin his division at Cross Keys.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 351-2, 465