Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 25, 1861

Yesterday Fort Pickens opened fire on our batteries at Pensacola, but without effect. One of their ships was badly crippled.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 95

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: March 3, 1864

Betty, the handsome, and Constance, the witty, came; the former too prudish to read Lost and Saved, by Mrs. Norton, after she had heard the plot. Conny was making a bonnet for me. Just as she was leaving the house, her friendly labors over, my husband entered, and quickly ordered his horse. “It is so near dinner,” I began. “But I am going with the President. I am on duty. He goes to inspect the fortifications. The enemy, once more, are within a few miles of Richmond.” Then we prepared a luncheon for him. Constance Cary remained with me.

After she left I sat down to Romola, and I was absorbed in it. How hardened we grow to war and war's alarms! The enemy's cannon or our own are thundering in my ears, and I was dreadfully afraid some infatuated and frightened friend would come in to cheer, to comfort, and interrupt me. Am I the same poor soul who fell on her knees and prayed, and wept, and fainted, as the first gun boomed from Fort Sumter? Once more we have repulsed the enemy. But it is humiliating, indeed, that he can come and threaten us at our very gates whenever he so pleases. If a forlorn negro had not led them astray (and they hanged him for it) on Tuesday night, unmolested, they would have walked into Richmond. Surely there is horrid neglect or mismanagement somewhere.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 293-4

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: February 12, 1863

We have lately had a little fight on the Blackwater. The Yankees intended to take General Pryor by surprise, but he was wide awake, and ready to receive and repulse them handsomely. The late democratic majorities at the North seem to have given the people courage; denunciations are heard against the despotism of the Government. Gold has gone up to 160, causing a ferment. Oh that they would “bite and devour one another!” Since I have been so occupied in nursing B. I have not had as much time for the hospital, but go when I can. A few days ago, on going there in the morning, I found Miss T. deeply interested about a soldier who had been brought in the evening before. The gentleman who accompanied him had found him in the pouring rain, wandering about the streets, shivering with cold, and utterly unable to tell his own story. The attendants quickly replaced his wet clothes by dry ones, and put him into a warm bed; rubbing and warm applications were resorted to, and a surgeon administered restoratives. Physical reaction took place, but no clearing of the mind. When soothingly asked about his name, his home, and his regiment, he would look up and speak incoherently, but no light was thrown on the questions. He was watched and nursed during the night. His pulse gradually weakened, and by the break of day he was no more. That morning I found the nameless, homeless boy on the couch which I had so often seen similarly occupied. The wind had raised one corner of the sheet, and as I approached to replace it a face was revealed which riveted me to the spot. It was young, almost boyish, and though disease and death had made sad ravages, they could not conceal delicately-carved features, a high, fair forehead, and light hair, which had been well cared for. He looked like one of gentle blood. All seemed so mysterious, my heart yearned over him, and my tears fell fast. Father, mother, sisters, brothers — where are they? The morning papers represented the case, and called for information. He may have escaped in delirium from one of the hospitals! That evening, kind, gentle hands placed him in his soldier's coffin, and he had Christian burial at “Hollywood,” with the lonely word “Stranger” carved upon the headboard. We trust that the sad story in the papers may meet some eye of which he had once been the light, for he was surely “Somebody's Darling.” Sweet lines have been written, of which this sad case reminds me:—

Into a ward of the whitewashed walls,

      Where the dead and dying lay—

Wounded by bayonets, shells, and balls—

      Somebody's darling was borne one day:—

Somebody's darling I so young and brave,

      Wearing yet on his sweet, pale face—

Soon to be hid in the dust of the grave—

      The lingering light of his boyhood's grace.

Matted and damp are the curls of gold,

      Kissing the snow of that fair young brow;

Pale are the lips of delicate mould—

      Somebody's darling is dying now.

Back from the beautiful, blue-veined brow,

      Brush his wandering waves of gold;

Cross his hand on his bosom now—

      Somebody's darling is still and cold.

Kiss him once for somebody's sake;

      Murmur a prayer soft and low;

One bright curl from its fair mates take,—

      They were somebody's pride, you know

Somebody's hand hath rested there;

      Was it a mother's, soft and white?

Or have the lips of a sister fair

      Been baptized in their waves of light?

God knows best! He has somebody's love .

      Somebody's heart enshrined him there;

Somebody wafted his name above,

      Night and morn, on wings of prayer.

Somebody wept when he marched away,

      Looking so handsome, brave, and grand

Somebody's kiss on his forehead lay;

      Somebody clung to his parting hand.

Somebody's watching and waiting for him,

      Yearning to hold him again to her heart;

And there he lies with his blue eyes dim,

      And the smiling, childlike lips apart.

Tenderly bury the fair young dead,

      Pausing to drop on his grave a tear;

Carve on a wooden slab o'er his head—

      “Somebody's darling slumbers here!”

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 188-91

Charlotte Cross Wigfall to Louise Wigfall, July 29, 1861

I send you the “Examiner” of to-day, which has full extracts from the Northern papers — about the battle. Some of the handcuffs were shown at the Hotel, yesterday, but I did not happen to see them. ’Tis however a fact — how many exactly I don't know — but there are certainly a great many taken.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 74

Diary of Sarah Morgan: June 4, 1862 - Night

We were so distressed by the false position in which we would be placed by a Federal sentinel, that we did not know what course to pursue. As all our friends shook their heads and said it was dangerous, we knew full well what our enemies would say. If we win Baton Rouge, as I pray we will, they will say we asked protection from Yankees against our own men, are consequently traitors, and our property will be confiscated by our own Government. To decline General Williams's kind offer exposes the house to being plundered. In our dilemma, we made up our minds to stay, so we could say the sentinel was unnecessary.

Presently a file of six soldiers marched to the gate, an officer came to the steps and introduced himself as Colonel McMillan, of 21st Indiana Volunteers. He asked if this was Mrs. Morgan's; the General had ordered a guard placed around the house; he would suggest placing them in different parts of the yard. “Madam, the pickets await your orders.” Miriam in a desperate fright undertook to speak for mother, and asked if he thought there was any necessity. No, but it was an additional security, he said. “Then, if no actual necessity, we will relieve you of the disagreeable duty, as we expect to remain in town,” she said. He was very kind, and discussed the whole affair with us, saying when we made up our minds to leave, — we told him after we could not decide, — to write him word, and he would place a guard around to prevent his men and the negroes from breaking in. It was a singular situation: our brothers off fighting them, while these Federal officers leaned over our fence, and an officer standing on our steps offered to protect us. These people are certainly very kind to us. General Williams especially must be a dear old gentleman; he is so good.

How many good, and how many mean people these troubles have shown us! I am beginning to see my true friends, now; there is a large number of them, too. Everybody from whom we least expected attention has agreeably surprised us. . . .

General Williams will believe we are insane from our changing so often.

His guard positively refused.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 66-7

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, October 4, 1864

Rain early this morning. We stored away our tents in Atlanta and left in light marching order. The three corps started out on different roads, and the roads being muddy it made hard marching. We bivouacked for the night four miles west of Marietta, Georgia. The railroad bridge across the Tallahassee river here was partially destroyed by the rebels. They built a raft of logs and floated it down against the bridge, knocking out two piers. No news from the East.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 219

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to Josephine Shaw Lowell, October 5, 1864

Near Mt. Crawford, Oct. 5, 1864.

I have reveillé about one hour before daybreak, — am always awake, but never get up now, unless there are Rebs round.

Did you see the new moon last night within a quarter of an inch of the evening star, and turning her back on him? They must have been close together an hour before I could see them; for an hour after, they were still less than an inch apart. They looked very strangely calm and peaceful and almost reproachful in the West last night, — with the whole North and East, far and near, lighted up by burning barns and houses. Lieutenant Meigs was shot by a guerrilla, and by order the village of Dayton and everything for several miles around was burned.¹ I am very glad my Brigade had no hand in it. Though if it will help end bushwhacking, I approve it, and I would cheerfully assist in making this whole Valley a desert from Staunton northward, — for that would have, I am sure, an important effect on the campaign of the Spring,— but in partial burnings I see less justice and less propriety. I was sorry enough the other day that my Brigade should have had a part in the hanging and shooting of some of Mosby's men who were taken, — I believe that some punishment was deserved, — but I hardly think we were within the laws of war, and any violation of them opens the door for all sorts of barbarity, — it was all by order of the Division Commander, however. The war in this part of the country is becoming very unpleasant to an officer's feelings.

We have moved camp once every day since Saturday, but only for short distances; so the date is still the same.

I think [the mail-carrier] is miserably timid about guerrillas, — he won't come unless he has at least a brigade for escort, — perhaps he is right, however; important despatches from General Grant to Sheridan were taken, day before yesterday, by guerrillas, — provoking enough when we are hoping to hear that Petersburg is taken, or perhaps to get the orders which instruct us how to cooperate in taking it.²

I think that we shall move soon. As we are foraging our horses entirely upon the country, we have to move frequently, but lately we have done a little too much of it. This is a very scrubby letter and written before breakfast, too.

I do wish this war was over!  . . . Never mind. I'm doing all I can to end it. Good-bye.

_______________

¹ General Sheridan, in a despatch to General Grant, said, “Lieutenant John R. Meigs, my engineer officer, was murdered beyond Harrisburg.  . . . For this atrocious act, all the houses within an area of five miles were burned. Since I came into the Valley from Harper's Ferry, every train, every small party, and every straggler has been bushwhacked by people, many of whom have protection papers from commanders who have been hitherto in that Valley.” It was asserted at the time that the murderer was disguised in the United States uniform. Mr. George E. Pond, associate editor of the Army and Navy Journal, in his book on the Campaign in the Shenandoah Valley (1883), says, “It was ascertained, after the war, that this gallant youth [Lieutenant Meigs], a soldier of brilliant gifts and promise, the son of the Quartermaster-General, fell at the hands of an enlisted Confederate soldier of Wickham's brigade, engaged in scouting.”

² In 1864, the evils of guerrilla warfare rose to high-water mark. The sure demoralization which such a system wrought in those engaged in it, reached such a pitch that even the Confederate authorities could not ignore it. Matters worked in a vicious circle. Murderous marauding drove the Union commanders to devastating the places known to harbour these men. The devastation naturally enraged the inhabitants, and led them even to private bushwhacking. In the late autumn of 1864, bitter retaliations began on both sides. As early as January, 1864, the Confederate General Rosser, who had had opportunity while serving in the Valley to judge the value of “irregular bodies of troops known as partisans,” etc., wrote to General Lee: “I am prompted by no other feeling than a desire to serve my country, to inform you that they are a nuisance and an evil to the service. Without discipline, order, or organization, they roam broadcast over the country, — a band of thieves, stealing, pillaging, plundering, and doing every manner of mischief and crime. They are a terror to the citizens and an injury to the cause.”

He gives the following reasons for his protest: that it keeps men on this service away “from the field of battle, when the life or death of our country is the issue;” that their latitude and many privileges cause dissatisfaction among the regular troops; this encourages desertion.

He says he finds it almost impossible to manage the companies of his brigade that come from the region occupied by Mosby. “They see these men living at their ease and enjoying the comforts of home, allowed to possess all that they capture, and their duties mere pastime pleasures compared with their own arduous ones; and it is a natural consequence in the nature of man that he should become dissatisfied under these circumstances.” He recommends abolishing this “partisan” service, with its privileges. “If it is necessary for troops to operate within the lines of the enemy, then require the commanding officer to keep them in an organized condition, to rendezvous within our lines, and move upon the enemy when opportunity is offered.

“Major Mosby is of inestimable service to the Yankee army, in keeping their men from straggling. He is a gallant officer, and is one that I have great respect for; yet the interest I feel in my own command and the good of the service coerces me to bring this matter before you, in order that this partisan system, which I think is a bad one, may be corrected.” General Rosser says that General Early and General Fitzhugh Lee can testify to these evils.

On General Rosser's communication, General J. E. B. Stuart, the friend and admirer of Mosby, indorses: “Major Mosby's command is the only efficient band of rangers I know of, and he usually operates with only one fourth of his nominal strength. Such organizations, as a rule, are detrimental to the best interests of the army at large.”

The above communication was referred by General Lee to the government at Richmond, with this comment: “As far as my knowledge and experience extend, there is much truth in the statement of General Rosser. The evils resulting from their organization more than counterbalance the good they accomplish.'” Miles, the chairman of the Confederate Military Committee, on February 14, 1864, returns this document to the Secretary of War, saying the House of Representatives has passed a bill abolishing Partisan Rangers.

Yet, in spite of Lee's indorsement of Rosser's communication, he wrote to the Secretary of War, C. S. A., asking that Mosby be made a lieutenant-colonel, and wishing to show him that “his services have been appreciated, and to encourage him to still greater activity and zeal.” (Rebellion Record, vol. xxxiii.)

In April, Lee enumerated to his government the bands of “partisan rangers,” recommending bringing them under the rules and regulations of the regular cavalry, disbanding most of them as organizations, but keeping the men; and adds, with regard to Mosby's battalion, the recommendation that, if they cannot be mustered into the regular service, “they be retained as partisans at present,” expressing his belief that their discipline and conduct is better than that of the other bands.

Mosby's and McNeill's commands were retained as partisan rangers.

But the evil went on increasing through 1864. Two days after General Sheridan's report of the killing of his Lieutenant Meigs, he sends another: “Lieutenant-Colonel Tolles, my Chief Quartermaster, and Assistant Surgeon Emil Oelenschlager, Medical Inspector on my Staff, were both mortally wounded by guerrillas to-day, on their way to join me from Winchester.  . . . The refugees from Early's army, cavalry and infantry, are organizing guerrilla parties, and are becoming very formidable.  . . . I know of no way to exterminate them except to burn out the whole country, and let the people go North or South.”

Yet, bushwhacking aside, Mosby had done great military service to the Confederacy — to quote his own words as to his kind of warfare — “by the heavy details it compels the enemy to make in order to guard his communications, and, to that extent, diminish his aggressive strength.” In August, when Sheridan with his army had gone up the Valley, Mosby with a small force made a dash upon one of his supply-trains proceeding to the front, dispersed a large force of “hundred-days men,” and ran off three hundred and fifty mules, and burned the wagons and what spoil they could not carry off. In October, Colonel Stevenson wrote to Secretary Stanton, that a supply-train of five hundred and sixty-one wagons, which he was despatching to Sheridan's army, would have a guard of two thousand men “unless this should be too few.”

Throughout the campaign, Early was most anxious to keep the rail communications of the Union Army broken, and Mosby harassed the working parties that tried to keep them open. Major John Scott, in his Partisan Life with Mosby, gives the following edifying anecdote. It should be remembered that these trains were used by the local inhabitants: Knowing that the only way to prevent the progress of the work on the road was to keep the force stirred up from below, on the 9th of October he (Mosby) sent a detachment under a lieutenant to throw off the track a train of cars, as it passed between Salem and the Plains. This duty was successfully performed, and many on board were killed and many severely wounded. In retaliation, the Yankees resorted to the inhuman experiment of arresting prominent citizens of the Southern type residing in Fauquier and Alexandria, and making them ride on every train which ran on the Manassas Gap Railroad. In addition, some of the captured prisoners were sent along. But, with the spirit of an old Roman, Mosby declared, ‘If my wife and children were on board, I would still throw off the cars.’”

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 352-4, 465-70

Major-General John Sedgwick to his Sister, May 15, 1863

May 15, 1863.

My dear sister:

I received yours of the 11th instant yesterday. Captain Halsted wrote you last night a description of the crossing and recrossing of the river. I wrote you that I apprehended the General would attempt to throw an undue share of the failure on the 6th Corps. The pressure was too great for him to attempt it. We have received nothing but congratulations for the heroic conduct of the soldiers, and credit for some skill in handling. What future operations are to be, no one here knows. We are discharging at the rate of one thousand men a day, and by the 15th of June will have discharged thirty thousand men. I presume they know in Washington where the reinforcements are to come from.

I cannot see when I shall be at home, unless something should turn up. I cannot anticipate now. There must be some change. I hope it may be such an one as will satisfy the army. With much love to all,

Your affectionate brother,

J. s.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 128-9

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Wednesday, January 8, 1862

“New Orleans,” “The Union — it must and shall be preserved,” “Old Hickory forever.” These are the watchwords of today. This is our coldest day — clear, bright, and beautiful. Not over three inches of snow.

Rode with Adjutant Avery and two dragoons to Raleigh, twenty-four miles. A cold but not disagreeable day. The village of Raleigh is about ten to twelve years old; three or four hundred inhabitants may have lived there before the war; now six or eight families. Two churches, two taverns, two stores, etc., etc., in peaceful times. Our troops housed comfortably but too scattered, and too little attention to cleanliness. (Mem.: — Cooking ought never to be allowed in quarters.) I fear proper arrangements for repelling an attack have not been made.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 182

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Thursday, January 9, 1862

Raleigh, Virginia, (Beckley's Court-house). Cloudy; rained during last night, thawing, foggy, etc., etc. Rode with Avery to the mill of young Mr. Beckley on Piney River. Found it a most romantic spot. Beckley's family, a pretty wife and daughter, there in a cabin by the roaring torrent in a glen separated from all the world. I shall long remember that quiet little home. — One man of company died at Fayetteville.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 182-3

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Friday, January 10, 1862

Heard rumors from Fayetteville of a great battle and victory at Bowling Green. Three thousand of our men killed and wounded. Enemy driven into the river — camp taken. One adds thirteen thousand taken prisoners. Floyd captured, says another. Fort Sumter retaken, says a third, and so on. Rode to Raleigh [slip of the pen for Fayetteville] with Avery, — very muddy — twenty-five miles in five to six hours. Rumors of the battle varied and conflicting. We ask all pickets and all we meet. As we approach Fayetteville the rumor loses strength. At Fayetteville, “Nothing of it, Colonel,” says a soldier. So we go.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 183

Francis Lieber to the Managers Of the Fremont Campaign Club, March 17, 1864

March 17, 1864.

To the Managers Of the Fremont Campaign Club:

Gentlemen, — In reply to your favor of yesterday, informing me that it is desired “I shall take the presidency of the Fremont Campaign Club,” to be established “for the purpose of bringing forward the name of General Fremont in connection with the presidency,” I desire to say that I am simply for the country with my whole soul, and would disown my own brother were he in any way to disturb the unity of the National Men, or Country Party, whatever name may be used; that I am convinced that every personal-election movement at this time can only tend to weaken us, when, in proportion to the greatness and the breadth of our struggle, our whole undivided physical and moral strength is necessary to bring it to an end, — and it must be brought to an end soon, if ever; and lastly, that I believe the nomination of General Fremont can have no other effect than the division of our forces, but not his election. All of us ought to remember the letter of the patriotic Chase.

SOURCE: Thomas Sergeant Perry, Editor, The Life and Letters of Francis Lieber, p. 343-4

Francis Lieber to Major-General Henry W. Halleck, March 20, 1864

New York, March 20, 1864.

. . . You have observed that the Fremont men have held their first meeting. Did I tell you that I was called upon to become president of the Fremont Campaign Club; and, if I should decline, that I would at least preside at the first meeting, which was held on March 18 in the Cooper Institute? It would have been a fine celebration of my birthday had I done so! I shall copy the letter which I wrote in reply. It will show you what I think about it. . . . Are you going to move on the everlasting Potomac? . . .

SOURCE: Thomas Sergeant Perry, Editor, The Life and Letters of Francis Lieber, p. 343

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 21, 1861

My mysterious lieutenant was arrested this morning, on the western route, and proved, as I suspected, to be a woman. But Gen. Winder was ordered by the Secretary to have her released.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 94

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: February 26, 1864

We went to see Mrs. Breckinridge, who is here with her husband. Then we paid our respects to Mrs. Lee. Her room was like an industrial school: everybody so busy. Her daughters were all there plying their needles, with several other ladies. Mrs. Lee showed us a beautiful sword, recently sent to the General by some Marylanders, now in Paris. On the blade was engraved, “Aide tôt et Dieu t'aidera.” When we came out someone said, “Did you see how the Lees spend their time? What a rebuke to the taffy parties!”

Another maimed hero is engaged to be married. Sally Hampton has accepted John Haskell. There is a story that he reported for duty after his arm was shot off; suppose in the fury of the battle he did not feel the pain.

General Breckinridge once asked, “What's the name of the fellow who has gone to Europe for Hood's leg?” “Dr. Darby.” “Suppose it is shipwrecked?” “No matter; half a dozen are ordered.” Mrs. Preston raised her hands: “No wonder the General says they talk of him as if he were a centipede; his leg is in everybody's mouth.”

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 292-3

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: February 11, 1863

For ten days past I have been at the bedside of my patient in Richmond. The physicians for the third time despaired of his life; by the goodness of God he is again convalescent. Our wounded are suffering excessively for tonics, and I believe that many valuable lives are lost for the want of a few bottles of porter. One day a surgeon standing by B's bedside said to me, “He must sink in a day or two; he retains neither brandy nor milk, and his life is passing away for want of nourishment.” In a state bordering on despair, I went out to houses and stores, to beg or buy porter; not a bottle was in town. At last a lady told me that a blockade-runner, it was said, had brought ale, and it was at the medical purveyor's. I went back to Mr. P's instantly, and told my brother (B's father) of the rumour. To get a surgeon's requisition and go off to the purveyor's was the work of a moment. In a short time he returned, with a dozen bottles of India ale. It was administered cautiously at first, and when I found that he retained it, and feebly asked for more, tears of joy and thankfulness ran down my cheeks. “Give him as much as he will take during the night,” was the order of the physician. The order was obeyed, and life seemed to return to his system; in twenty-four hours he had drank four bottles; he began then to take milk, and I never witnessed any thing like the reanimation of the whole man, physical and mental. The hospitals are now supplied with this life-giving beverage, and all have it who “absolutely require it,” though great care is taken of it, for the supply is limited. Oh, how cruel it is that the Northern Government should have made medicines, and the necessaries of life to the sick and wounded, contraband articles!

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 187-8

Charlotte Cross Wigfall to Louise Wigfall, July 23, 1861

We have been in the greatest excitement over our glorious victory. I am curious to know what the effect will be at the North — whether they will be panic stricken or exasperated to frenzy at such a defeat. Poor old Scott! If he had only died after the Mexican War, how much better it would have been for his military fame. They say that the trunks of some of the men were actually directed to Richmond! In the next fight I suppose of course the President will take the field. He got down too late this time — just as they had begun to retreat. . . .

The fact is the fight took place sooner than he had expected, and he had made no preparations for engaging in it. Don't however repeat anything I may say to you on such subjects.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 73-4

Diary of Sarah Morgan: June 4, 1862

Miriam Morgan

Miriam and Mattie drove in, in the little buggy, last evening after sunset, to find out what we were to do. Our condition is desperate. Beauregard is about attacking these Federals. They say he is coming from Corinth, and the fight will be in town. If true, we are lost again. Starvation at Greenwell, fever and bullets here, will put an end to us soon enough. There is no refuge for us, no one to consult. Brother, whose judgment we rely on as implicitly as we did on father's, we hear has gone to New York; there is no one to advise or direct us, for, if he is gone, there is no man in Louisiana whose decision I would blindly abide by. Let us stay and die. We can only die once; we can suffer a thousand deaths with suspense and uncertainty; the shortest is the best. Do you think the few words here can give an idea of our agony and despair? Nothing can express it. I feel a thousand years old to-day. I have shed the bitterest tears to-day that I have shed since father died. I can't stand it much longer; I'll give way presently, and I know my heart will break. Shame! Where is God? A fig for your religion, if it only lasts while the sun shines! “Better days are coming” — I can't!

Troops are constantly passing and repassing. They have scoured the country for ten miles out, in search of guerrillas. We are here without servants, clothing, or the bare necessaries of life: suppose they should seize them on the way! I procured a pass for the wagon, but it now seems doubtful if I can get the latter — a very faint chance. Well! let them go; our home next; then we can die sure enough. With God's help, I can stand anything yet in store for me. “I hope to die shouting, the Lord will provide!” Poor Lavinia! if she could only see us! I am glad she does not know our condition.

5 P.M. What a day of agony, doubt, uncertainty, and despair! Heaven save me from another such! Every hour fresh difficulties arose, until I believe we were almost crazy, every one of us.

As Miriam was about stepping in the buggy, to go to Greenwell to bring in our trunks, mother's heart misgave her, and she decided to sacrifice her property rather than remain in this state any longer. After a desperate discussion which proved that each argument was death, she decided to go back to Greenwell and give up the keys of the house to General Williams, and let him do as he pleased, rather than have it broken open during her absence. Mattie and Mr. Tunnard were present at the discussion, which ended by the latter stepping in the buggy and driving Miriam to the Garrison. General Williams called her by name, and asked her about Major Drum. It seems all these people, native and foreign, know us, while we know none. Miriam told him our condition, how our brothers were away, father dead, and mother afraid to remain, yet unwilling to lose her property by going away; how we three were alone and unprotected here, but would remain rather than have our home confiscated. He assured her the house should not be touched, that it would be respected in our absence as though we were in it, and he would place a sentinel at the door to guard it against his own men who might be disposed to enter. The latter she declined, but he said he would send his aide to mark the house, that it might be known. A moment after they got back, the aide, Mr. Biddle (I have his name to so many passes that I know it now), came to the door. Mr. Tunnard left him there, uncertain how we would receive a Christian, and I went out and asked him in. He looked uncertain of his reception, too, when we put an end to his doubt by treating him as we invariably treat gentlemen who appear such. He behaved remarkably well under the trying circumstances, and insisted on a sentinel; for, he said, though they would respect the property, there were many bad characters among the soldiers who might attempt to rob it, and the sentinel would protect it. After a visit of ten minutes, devoted exclusively to the affair, he arose and took his leave, leaving me under the impression that he was a gentleman wherever he came from, even if there were a few grammatical errors in the pass he wrote me yesterday; but “thou that judgest another, dost thou sin?”

Well, now we say, fly to Greenwell. Yes! and by to-night, a most exaggerated account of the whole affair will be spread over the whole country, and we will be equally suspected by our own people. Those who spread useless falsehoods about us will gladly have a foundation for a monstrous one. Didn't Camp Moore ring with the story of our entertaining the Federal officers? Didn't they spread the report that Miriam danced with one to the tune of “Yankee Doodle” in the State House garden? What will they stop at now? O! if I was only a man, and knew what to do!

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 62-6

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, October 2, 1864

We started again early this morning, and after marching about six miles, came upon the rebels' rear guard. We did some skirmishing with them and chased them about two miles, when we let them go and started back to Atlanta. The rebels tore up a portion of the railroad track between Marietta and Acworth, and delayed our trains. Our expedition was sent out for the purpose of cutting off their retreat from Marietta, but we were too late. After marching six miles on our return, we went into bivouac for the night.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 219

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Monday, October 3, 1864

A heavy rain last night. We started early this morning and arrived in camp about 9 o'clock. This afternoon we received orders to prepare to march early tomorrow morning with fifteen days' rations. It is supposed that the expedition is going out towards Kenesaw mountain, as it is reported that Hood is moving north with the main part of his army, and that he is now in the vicinity of Kenesaw. The Fourteenth, Fifteenth and Seventeenth Corps are to move north, while the Twentieth and Twenty-third are to remain here at Atlanta. News came today that General Grant is within five miles of Richmond and that he has whipped the rebels at every point.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 219