Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: March 28, 1863

A letter from –––. She tells me that W. B. N. and E. C. both passed through the fierce fight at Kelly's Ford uninjured. How can we be grateful enough for all our mercies? Letters also from B., by underground railroad. That sweet child and her whole family surrounded and roughly treated by the Yankees; and so it will be as long as Millroy is allowed to be the scourge of the Valley.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 202

Francis H. Wigfall to Louise Wigfall, October 24, 1862

Camp, near Winchester, October 24, 1862

I had a very pleasant visit to Rosser's Camp where I spent the night. On my way down I met Genl. Stuart and stopped and had some conversation. He was in as high spirits as ever, and told me particularly to tell you, when I wrote, that in his recent raid into Pennsylvania he got nothing but “Apple butter” and “Dry water.” You know he is a “Total Abstinence Man” in practice. The next day I rode down to Shepherdstown about eight miles from Camp with Rosser and through the town to the river bank (the Potomac) where our cavalry pickets are stationed. The Yankees who still picket entirely with infantry have their lines on the opposite bank. While I was in that neighborhood Jackson's Corps, and McLaw's Division from this Corps, were hard at work destroying the B. & O. R. R. They have also torn up the track of the road between Winchester and Harper's Ferry and it will be a long time befor these roads can be repaired. I put my last postage stamp on this letter and I understand there are none in Winchester.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 95-6

Diary of Sarah Morgan: June 27, 1862

A proclamation of Van Dorn has just been smuggled into town, that advises all persons living within eight miles of the Mississippi to remove into the interior, as he is determined to defend his department at all hazards to the last extremity. Does not look like the Peace I have been deluding myself with, does it? That means another Exodus. How are we to leave, when we are not allowed to pass the limits of the corporation by the Federals? Where are we to go? We are between the two armies, and here we must remain patiently awaiting the result. Some of these dark nights, bang! we will hear the cannon, and then it will be sauve qui peut in a shower of shells. Bah! I don't believe God will suffer that we should be murdered in such a dreadful way! I don't believe He will suffer us to be turned homeless and naked on the world! “Something will turn up” before we are attacked, and we will be spared, I am certain. We can't look forward more than an hour at a time now, sometimes not a minute ahead (witness the shelling frolic), so I must resume my old habit of laying a clean dress on my bed before going to sleep, which I did every night for six weeks before the shelling of Baton Rouge, in order to run respectably, as muslin cross-bar nightgowns are not suitable for day dresses.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 90-1

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Thursday, October 20, 1864

The same as ever. We marched twelve miles and went into camp near Galesville, Alabama. All of the forces of General Sherman which have been after Hood, came together at this place by different roads, and are now in bivouac. General Hardie of Hood's army is in front of us with his corps and still retreating. It is fine marching weather.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 223

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, June 5, 1862

Camp Near Williamsport, Md.,

June 5, 1862.

You see by my heading that we are still on the wrong side of the river, but we shall be so for only a few days longer. I will mention some of the narrow escapes that came under my notice. Bob Shaw was struck by a minie ball, which passed through his coat and vest and dented into his watch, a very valuable gold one, shattering the works all to pieces, doing him no damage with the exception of a slight bruise; the watch saved his life; he has sent it home. A private in our company was struck in the forehead by a ball which cut a groove right across it, doing no harm and making an honorable scar. Another of our men was struck down in the street at Winchester by one of Stuart's cavalry; the sabre glanced on his cap and inflicted only a slight wound in his head; he was passed over as dead by the cavalry; he then quietly got up and escaped through a side street and across to Harper's Ferry. A corporal in my platoon, Saturday night, was raising the rammer of his piece to “ram cartridge,” when a ball came between the fingers holding the rammer cutting into each. You remember Sergeant Lundy of whom I sent home a daguerreotype; well, he was cut off from the regiment by some cavalry, but managed to hide from them and get on to the Harper's Ferry road. Soon after, he caught sight of three of Ashby's men sitting by the side of the road; he got close to them, then presented his piece and told them they were his prisoners, and they were brought by Sergeant Lundy to our camp, where they were delivered over to the Provost Marshal.

One of our privates named Fagan was shot through the arm, and walked all the way to the Potomac that day; he is one of the best men in our company, only about eighteen years old. Another, named Stevens, was struck in the back by a piece of a shell, knocking him down, but only slightly wounding him; he got up with a smile on his face and was making some joke about it when another ball passed through First Sergeant Hatch's coat and into his hips, wounding him severely; he fell and I thought at the time he was killed, but I know now he is safe in the Winchester hospital. There were dozens more similar cases, but I have told enough to show that bullets were pretty plenty that Saturday and Sunday. The thing that strikes everybody most forcibly after a battle is, how it can be possible for such a small proportion of the bullets to produce any effect.

I suppose you have heard of Charley Horton's having his horse shot under him. He was close by our company at the time, the horse, a large gray one, was struck by two balls, one passing through his head, the other through his body.

I am happy to say that Gordon is going to get a brigade at last; he deserves it more than any Colonel I know of. This makes Captain Savage, Major; George Bangs, Captain, and me, Senior Lieutenant; and probably First Sergeant Powers, of Company H, Second Lieutenant. I hope that Gordon will get this brigade and Green will be transferred.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 66-8

Major Wilder Dwight: September 16, 1861

pleasant Hill, September 16, 1861.

I got a letter from you this morning dated Saturday, and full of regret that I don't get your letters. Why, I do. Only they come irregularly. Since the gap caused by your cold, I have had my regular journal to cheer and alleviate my life. So don't be discouraged, and above all, don't think that you are writing to the Dead Letter Office. You need not say so to –––, but it would overtax my magnanimity to write to any one in England our news. Their fog must envelop them. ‘Can't understand affairs in this country,’ is it? They don't try. It is a plain case enough. The South has been organizing a villanous conspiracy for two years. It is suddenly born, full-armed, as Minerva. We are just organizing our crushing power to put it down. Let England wait patiently, and we will show them that we are a nation, after all. Till then it is idle to attempt to persuade their darkness into light.

Our court-martial goes on bravely. We hope to get through to-morrow, or next day. But the cases accumulate so rapidly in proportion to our speed of trial, that we do not get the docket clear yet. I was prevented, yesterday, from going on a secret and confidential duty by the fact of the court-martial. If the telegram gives an account of any arrests in the vicinage of Frederick, you may know that nothing but the fact of my being actually engaged in another service prevented my taking charge of a part of that enterprise. I cannot properly speak more plainly of the matter, but events will probably illustrate my meaning, and you will see that we mean to have Maryland under our thumb completely. 1 confess that I should have enjoyed the duty that I was likely to engage in; but a soldier has no choice. Every vigorous move of the Federal authority does good. We are in the midst of traitors, and indeed there is no loyalty except conditional loyalty in the Slave States. The Baltimore arrests are a capital move. Our life is excited by rumors of a movement by the enemy. I suppose the fact is thus. If the Rebels attack, they will cross between us and Harper's Ferry. Any movement by them will threaten our division, which I hope they mean to strengthen. The circumstance of McClellan's turning his attention to us indicates this as his opinion. I am slow to believe that they will cross anywhere. If they do, we shall have to be the first to oppose them.

A direct attack on Washington cannot offer them any attraction. I can imagine how strong the pressure is upon them to make a move, and yet I think they have not the power to make it, with any chance of success. We shall see. The sun has come out glaringly, and now we have a threatening thunder-storm coming.

The coffee-roaster is lovely, and wins golden opinions. At last, also, we have tea, and, indeed, we have waked up our commissary to something like activity. . . . .

I am glad Charley is going to the war. It will make a man of him. Love to all.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 103-5

Testimonial to Major-General John Sedgwick United States Volunteers

The Undersigned, Commissioned Officers of the 2nd Division, 2nd Army Corps, desirous in some manner to express their admiration of the character and ability of their late Commander, Major-General John Sedgwick, United States Volunteers, have procured a Sword and other testimonials, which they have presented to him as tokens of their regard and respect; and that the names of these his friends and associates may not be forgotten, this parchment, with the names of the donors inscribed thereon, accompanies the gift.

Joshua T. Owens

Brigadier-General Volunteers

George B. Corkhill

Captain and Commissary of Subsistence Volunteers

Martin Rizer

Chief Surgeon 2nd Brigade

R. N. Batchelder

Lieutenant-Colonel and Chief Quartermaster 2nd Corps

W. R. Steele

Lieutenant and Ordnance Officer 2nd Division

J. E. Mallon

Colonel 42nd New York Volunteers

Frederick Skeete

Lieutenant and Quartermaster 42nd New York Volunteers

Joseph S. Smith

Lieutenant-Colonel and Commissary of Subsistence 2nd Corps

William Northedge

Colonel 59th New York Volunteers

Max G. Thoman

Lieutenant-Colonel 59th New York Volunteers, killed at Gettysburg, July, 1863

P. Cooper

Captain 42nd New York Volunteers

E. KiRBY

Lieutenant 1st United States Artillery, killed at Chancellorsville, May, 1863

R. Penn Smith

Colonel 71st Pennsylvania Volunteers

T. G. MOREHEAd

Colonel 106th Pennsylvania Volunteers

John H. Stover

Major 106th Pennsylvania Volunteers

P. J. Downing

Captain 42nd New York Volunteers

O. W. Holmes

Captain 20th Massachusetts Volunteers, wounded at Chancellorsville, May, 1863

H. L. Abbott

Captain 20th Massachusetts Volunteers

A. C. Uccock

Captain 7th Michigan Volunteers

G. N. Morgan

Colonel 1st Minnesota Volunteers

J. Franklin Dyer

Surgeon in Chief 2nd Division

William A. Lynch

Lieutenant-Colonel 42nd New York Volunteers

N. N. Dougherty

Medical Director 2nd Corps

T. W. Baird

Major and Acting Assistant Inspector-General 2nd Division, wounded at Gettysburg,

July, 1863

D. O'kane

Colonel 69th Pennsylvania Volunteers, killed at Gettysburg, July, 1863

M. TsCHUDY

Lieutenant-Colonel 69th Pennsylvania Volunteers, killed at Gettysburg, July, 1863

W. L. Curry

Lieutenant-Colonel 106th Pennsylvania Volunteers

George H. Swartwout

Captain and Commissary of Subsistence Volunteers 1st Brigade

W. Colville, Jr.

Lieutenant-Colonel 1st Minnesota Volunteers, wounded at Gettysburg, July, 1863

Mark W. Downie

Captain 1st Minnesota Volunteers, wounded at Gettysburg, July, 1863

Charles P. Adams

Major 1st Minnesota Volunteers, wounded at Gettysburg, July, 1863

D. W. C. Baxter

Colonel 72nd Pennsylvania Volunteers, wounded at Gettysburg, July, 1863

Theodore Hesser

Lieutenant-Colonel 72nd Pennsylvania Volunteers

Charles Kochersperger

Lieutenant-Colonel 71st Pennsylvania Volunteers

Byron Laplin

Colonel 34th New York Volunteers

Wells Sponable

Major 34th New York Volunteers

John Beverly

Lieutenant-Colonel 34th New York Volunteers

James Huston

Lieutenant-Colonel 82nd New York Volunteers, killed at Gettysburg, July, 1863

Thomas S. Crombargar

Captain and Commissary of Subsistence Volunteers 3rd Brigade

Norman J. Hall

Colonel 7th Michigan Volunteers

George N. Macy

Major 20th Massachusetts Volunteers, wounded at Gettysburg, July, 1863

Henry Baxter

Lieutenant-Colonel 7 th Michigan Volunteers

Nathan Hayward

Surgeon 20th Massachusetts Volunteers

James Murphy

Captain 20th Massachusetts Volunteers, wounded at Chancellorsville, May, 1863

C. W. Folsom

First Lieutenant and Quartermaster 20th Massachusetts Volunteers

Henry Ropes

First Lieutenant 20th Massachusetts Volunteers, killed at Gettysburg, July, 1863

H. C. Mason

Captain 20th Massachusetts Volunteers, wounded at Gettysburg, July, 1863

Henry L. Patten

First Lieutenant 20th Massachusetts Volunteers, wounded at Gettysburg, July, 1863

M. Coste

First Lieutenant and Aid-de-Camp 2nd Brigade

R. C. Knacgs

Adjutant 7th Michigan Volunteers

A. F. Devereaux

Lieutenant-Colonel 19th Massachusetts Volunteers

Edmund Rice

Major 19th Massachusetts Volunteers, wounded at Gettysburg, July, 1863

Charles A. Whittier

Captain 20th Massachusetts Volunteers, Aid-de-Camp

General Sedgwick's staff

Alfred Sully

Brigadier-General Volunteers

S. Newell Smith

Captain 7th Michigan Volunteers

C. W. Tompkins

Colonel and Chief of Artillery 6th Corps

J. A. Tompkins

Major 1st Rhode Island Light Artillery

Charles Devins

Brigadier-General Volunteers, wounded at Chancellorsville, May, 1863

Church Howe

Captain and Aid-de-Camp.

John G. Hazard

Captain 1st Rhode Island Light Artillery

John N. Chase

Captain 1st Minnesota Volunteers

INSCRIPTION ON THE SWORD

TO

JOHN SEDGWICK

Major-General 

U. S.

Volunteers

From the Commissioned

Officers of the 2nd Division

2nd Corps Army of the Potomac

as a tribute

to his abilities as a

soldier 

and a testimonial

to their former leader

and companion

in arms

of their

friendship 

and 

esteem

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 146-51

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Sardis Birchard, January 16, 1862

Fayetteville, Virginia, January 16, 1862.

Dear Uncle: — I am in receipt of your favor of New Year's. So Allen got along. I hope he will not cause you more bother than he is worth. He was a good man here. I shall not be at all surprised if some day his owners undertake to recover him. You need not say this to him. His master still refuses to come in and take the oath of allegiance although an opportunity has been given him. He is a Rebel in the Rebel service.

We are doing well in all respects. I was at Camp Hayes, twenty-five miles further south, last week. They have pretty active times there with a few Rebel bushwhackers that infest the roads. Men are occasionally slightly wounded, but the shooting is from such great distances, and with common rifles, that no serious harm is done. The vast majority of the people are friendly.

As soon as four or five absent officers return, I shall ask for leave of absence. Say, in about three weeks.

Sincerely,

R. B. HAYES.

S. BlRCHARD.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 189

Francis Lieber to Major-General Henry W. Halleck, October 15, 1864

New YorK, October 15, 1864.

. . . I dare say you have already attended to the subject I am going to write about; still I feel prompted to say what follows. From the “New York Times” of this day I observe that much noise is made about the Rebels using our men, captured by them, for working in the fortifications, and that General Butler seems to fall into the error of considering it a grievous offence on the part of the enemy. We ought always to take care not to make ourselves ridiculous. Not to speak of 76 of General Orders No. 100, the employment of prisoners of war is universal: employment for domestic ends (such as when Russia distributed Frenchmen to the farmers, or Napoleon set Prussians to dig one of the chief canals of France) ; or for military purposes, such as working in army factories; or, lastly, for actual army purposes, such as working at fortifications, building roads, bridges near armies, &e. General Meigs asked my opinion on this very subject some months ago, and I wrote him a somewhat elaborate letter, which, were it necessary, might be referred to. That we have abstained from doing so until now, and have fed all along some fifty thousand idle prisoners, is another question. I believe it was done because we have a barbarous and reckless enemy, who threatened to use our men in pestiferous swamps if we should utilize the prisoners in our hands. That we tell them, “If you use our men, we shall use yours,” is all right; but let us not talk of unheard cruelty if they simply set the prisoners to work. We expose ourselves, especially when we do this in the face of our own general order and our own acknowledgment of the law of war. I, for one, am in favor of setting Rebel prisoners to work, — especially now, when the Rebels have used United States prisoners for fortifying Richmond, &c, although I think we must be prepared for insolent resistance and proportionate coercion on our part. . . .

SOURCE: Thomas Sergeant Perry, Editor, The Life and Letters of Francis Lieber, p. 351-2

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: December 17, 1861

Bravo, Col. Edward Johnson! He was attacked by 5000 Yankees on the Alleghany Mountains, and he has beaten them with 1200 men. They say Johnson is an energetic man, and swears like a trooper; and instead of a sword, he goes into battle with a stout cane in his hand, with which he belabors any skulking miscreant found dodging in the hour of danger.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 100

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: December 18, 1861

Men escaped from the Eastern Shore of Virginia report that Mr. Custis had landed there, and remains quiet.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 100

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: April 11, 1864

Drove with Mrs. Davis and all her infant family; wonderfully clever and precocious children, with unbroken wills. At one time there was a sudden uprising of the nursery contingent. They laughed, fought, and screamed. Bedlam broke loose. Mrs. Davis scolded, laughed, and cried. She asked me if my husband would speak to the President about the plan in South Carolina, which everybody said suited him. “No, Mrs. Davis,” said I. “That is what I told Mr. Davis,” said she. “Colonel Chesnut rides so high a horse. Now Browne is so much more practical. He goes forth to be general of conscripts in Georgia. His wife will stay at the Cobbs's.”

Mrs. Ould gave me a luncheon on Saturday. I felt that this was my last sad farewell to Richmond and the people there I love so well. Mrs. Davis sent her carriage for me, and we went to the Oulds' together. Such good things were served — oranges, guava jelly, etc. The Examiner says Mr. Ould, when he goes to Fortress Monroe, replenishes his larder; why not? The Examiner has taken another fling at the President, as, “haughty and austere with his friends, affable, kind, subservient to his enemies.” I wonder if the Yankees would indorse that certificate. Both sides abuse him. He can not please anybody, it seems. No doubt he is right.

My husband is now brigadier-general and is sent to South Carolina to organize and take command of the reserve troops. C. C. Clay and L. Q. C. Lamar are both spoken of to fill the vacancy made among Mr. Davis's aides by this promotion.

To-day, Captain Smith Lee spent the morning here and gave a review of past Washington gossip. I am having such a busy, happy life, with so many friends, and my friends are so clever, so charming. But the change to that weary, dreary Camden! Mary Preston said: “I do think Mrs. Chesnut deserves to be canonized; she agrees to go back to Camden.” The Prestons gave me a farewell dinner; my twenty-fourth wedding day, and the very pleasantest day I have spent in Richmond.

Maria Lewis was sitting with us on Mrs. Huger's steps, and Smith Lee was lauding Virginia people as usual. As Lee would say, there “hove in sight” Frank Parker, riding one of the finest of General Bragg's horses; by his side Buck on Fairfax, the most beautiful home in Richmond, his brown coat looking like satin, his proud neck arched, moving slowly, gracefully, calmly, no fidgets, aristocratic in his bearing to the tips of his bridle-reins. There sat Buck tall and fair, managing her horse with infinite ease, her English riding-habit showing plainly the exquisite proportions of her figure. “Supremely lovely,” said Smith Lee. “Look at them both,” said I proudly; “can you match those two in Virginia?” “Three cheers for South Carolina!” was the answer of Lee, the gallant Virginia sailor.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 302-3

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: March 27, 1863

To-day was set apart by the President as a day of fasting and prayer. Some of us went to Richmond, and joined in the services at St. Paul's. The churches were all crowded with worshippers, who, I trust, felt their dependence on God in this great struggle. The President was in church, and, I believe, most of the dignitaries. One of the ladies of the hospital, seeing this morning two rough-looking convalescent soldiers sitting by the stove, exhorted them to observe the day by prayer and fasting. They seemed to have no objection to the praying, but could not see the “good of fasting,” and doubted very much whether “Marse Jeff fasted all day himself—do you reckon he does?” The lady laughingly told him that she would inquire and let them know, but she reckoned that such was his habit. In the course of the morning she met with Mrs. Davis, and told her the anecdote. “Tell them from me,” said Mrs. D., “that Mr. Davis never eats on fast-day, and that as soon as he returns from church he shuts himself up in his study, and is never interrupted during the day, except on public business.” Of course this was soon given as an example, not only to the two convalescents, but to the whole hospital.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 201-2

Major-General John Bell Hood to Louis T. Wigfall, November 17, 1862

Div. Hd. Qrts.

Near Culpeper, Nov. 17, '62.

My dear Genl.:

I wish you would let me know so soon as you are informed that the new Regiments are on their way to Richmond. If they came on as independent Regiments I wish to recommend a Brig. Genl. for them. . . .

If I can I will come to Richmond about the time the Regiments come on.

. . . Well, I think Mr. Burnsides is coming in a few days, and what a fight! I think we will whip him badly. Our army is in good trim for an old-fashioned fight.

Give my kindest regards to your family.

Your friend,

J. B. HoOD.

gen. L. T. Wigfall,

Richmond, Va.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 94-5

Diary of Sarah Morgan: June 26, 1862

Yesterday morning, just as I stepped out of bed I heard the report of four cannon fired in rapid succession, and everybody asked everybody else, “Did you hear that?” so significantly, that I must say my heart beat very rapidly for a few moments, at the thought of another stampede. At half-past six this morning I was wakened by another report, followed by seven others, and heard again the question, “Did you hear that?” on a higher key than yesterday. — It did not take me many minutes to get out of bed, and to slip on a few articles, I confess. My chief desire was to wash my face before running, if they were actually shelling us again. It appears that they were only practicing, however, and no harm was intended. But we are living on such a volcano, that, not knowing what to expect, we are rather nervous.

I am afraid this close confinement will prove too much for me; my long walks are cut off, on account of the soldiers. One month to-morrow since my last visit to the graveyard! That haunts me always; it must be so dreary out there! Here is a sketch of my daily life, enough to finish me off forever, if much longer persisted in.

First, get up a little before seven. After breakfast, which is generally within a few minutes after I get down (it used to be just as I got ready, and sometimes before, last winter), I attend to my garden, which consists of two strips of ground the length of the house, in front, where I can find an hour's work in examining and admiring my flowers, replanting those that the cows and horses occasionally (once a day) pull up for me, and in turning the soil over and over again to see which side grows best. O my garden! abode of rare delights! how many pleasant hours I have passed in you, armed with scissors, knife, hoe, or rake, only pausing when Mr. This or Mr. That leaned over the fence to have a talk! — last spring, that was; ever so many are dead now, for all I know, and all off at the war. Now I work for the edification of proper young women, who look in astonishment at me, as they would consider themselves degraded by the pursuit. A delicate pair of hands my flower mania will leave me!

Then I hear Dellie's and Morgan's lessons, after which I open my desk and am lost in the mysteries of Arithmetic, Geography, Blair's Lectures, Noël et Chapsal, Ollendorff, and reading aloud in French and English, besides writing occasionally in each, and sometimes a peep at Lavoisne, until very nearly dinner. The day is not half long enough for me. Many things I would like to study I am forced to give up, for want of leisure to devote to them. But one of these days, I will make up for present deficiencies. I study only what I absolutely love, now; but then, if I can, I will study what I am at present ignorant of, and cultivate a taste for something new.

The few moments before dinner, and all the time after, I devote to writing, sewing, knitting, etc., and if I included darning, repairs, alterations, etc., my list would be tremendous, for I get through with a great deal of sewing. Somewhere in the day, I find half an hour, or more, to spend at the piano. Before sunset I dress, and am free to spend the evening at home, or else walk to Mrs. Brunot's, for it is not safe to go farther than those three squares, away from home. From early twilight until supper, Miriam and I sing with the guitar, generally, and after, sit comfortably under the chandelier and read until about ten. What little reading I do, is almost exclusively done at that time. It sounds woefully little, but my list of books grows to quite a respectable size, in the course of a year.

At ten comes my Bible class for the servants. Lucy, Rose, Nancy, and Dophy assemble in my room, and hear me read the Bible, or stories from the Bible for a while. Then one by one say their prayers — they cannot be persuaded to say them together; Dophy says “she can't say with Rose, ’cause she ain't got no brothers and sisters to pray for,” and Lucy has no father or mother, and so they go. All difficulties and grievances during the day are laid before me, and I sit like Moses judging the children of Israel, until I can appease the discord. Sometimes it is not so easy. For instance, that memorable night when I had to work Rose's stubborn heart to a proper pitch of repentance for having stabbed a carvingfork in Lucy's arm in a fit of temper. I don't know that I was ever as much astonished as I was at seeing the dogged, sullen girl throw herself on the floor in a burst of tears, and say if God would forgive her she would never do it again. I was lashing myself internally for not being able to speak as I should, furious at myself for talking so weakly, and lo! here the girl tumbles over wailing and weeping! And Dophy, overcome by her feelings, sobs, “Lucy, I scratched you last week! please forgive me this once!” And amazed and bewildered I look at the touching tableau before me of kissing and reconciliation, for Lucy can bear malice toward no one, and is ready to forgive before others repent, and I look from one to the other, wondering what it was that upset them so completely, for certainly no words of mine caused it. Sometimes Lucy sings a wild hymn, “Did you ever hear the heaven bells ring?” “Come, my loving brothers,” “When I put on my starry crown,” etc.; and after some such scene as that just described, it is pleasant to hear them going out of the room saying, “Good-night, Miss Sarah!” “God bless Miss Sarah!” and all that.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 86-90

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Wednesday, October 19, 1864

We entered Summerville at 10 o'clock and remained there till noon, when we started for Galesville, Alabama. After marching fifteen miles, we went into bivouac on the banks of the Ogeechee river. All is quiet in front. The valleys through which we are marching are quite rich and there are some fine plantations which afford good forage. It is fortunate for us, as we have to get most of our living that way while on this expedition. Sweet potatoes are plentiful and then we also get some fresh pork.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 223

1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, June 3, 1862

June 3, 1862.

Last night, as we officers were sitting around our tents after supper, we suddenly heard a shout from the further side of the camp of “Major! the Major!” which was instantly taken up all over the field, followed by a rush of the men towards the guard tent: we all followed, and, passing across the lines, discovered the Major coming up the hill to camp, in a little old wagon. I wish you could have heard the shout the men set up when he fairly came in reach of them. They finally made a rush at him; it seemed as if they would tear him to pieces in their eagerness to touch his hand or some part of him; every cap was off and every face was on the broad grin. When he did get through the men, Colonel Gordon got hold of him and shook his hands and hugged him in the heartiest and most affectionate way; so he was passed along until all had given him a greeting.

After a short time spent in congratulations, Major Dwight returned to the men, who had not yet dispersed and were watching his every movement. He made a short speech, and then proceeded to give an account of every man of the regiment who was killed, wounded, or a prisoner. He had attended the burial, himself, of all of our dead, and had visited the wounded, who were all doing well. He was able to contradict entirely all stories of the rebel soldiers' cruelties; they had not killed a single wounded man, but had treated them kindly; the citizens were much worse than the soldiers. When he spoke of Company I and their large number of killed and wounded, he said he could not help asking for three cheers for their gallant conduct at the Kernstown bridge on Saturday night; they were given with a will. The Major mentioned each of the wounded by name, and had something pleasant to say about almost every one relating to some little peculiarities, which the men understood.

After Major Dwight had finished, Colonel Gordon made a few remarks, ending by calling for three cheers for the Major. Three times three and a “tiger” were given, and the men dispersed, happy as they could be. One of the pleasantest things that has developed by our late action is the kindly feeling shown by the men to the officers; they have learned their dependence on them, and have confidence now in their pluck and willingness to share every danger with them.

We received a great deal of interesting information from the Major, — none more so than this: Major Wheat, of a Louisiana battalion, told Major Dwight that on Saturday night their loss must have been ten to our one, and he wanted to know what regiment it was that was ambuscaded all along the road; he said that after their cavalry had been driven back, the Second and Fifth Virginia regiments had been ordered to the front, and it was with them that we did most of our fighting that night. Their loss was very heavy, including a number of officers.

Major Dwight was taken prisoner in Winchester; he had just helped a wounded man into a house and was surrounded by rebel cavalry before he could get away. He surrendered in the cool manner he does everything. He made friends with everybody and succeeded in getting paroled; he left this morning for Washington with his brother, to try and effect his exchange. Drs. Stone and Leland have both been unconditionally released. L. is still at Winchester, taking care of our wounded. The correct statement about our company is, one killed, four wounded, and twelve prisoners. Jackson and his army are disheartened; they did not entertain a doubt but that they would capture Banks and his division, bag and baggage, and then make a foray into Maryland, but by good luck, we got out of this scrape with pretty whole skins. Captain Mudge is at Frederick; his wound is very painful. Crowinshield will be able to be moved in a few days and will go home. Major Dwight saw over a hundred of their dead buried Sunday.

I have just come in from a brigade review, almost melted; two mortal hours have we stood under a scorching sun, ready to drop.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 64-6

Major Wilder Dwight: Sunday, September 15, 1861

Pleasant Hill, Camp Near Darnestown,

September 15, 1861, Sunday.

At regular intervals I am prompted to my pen, rather by the desire to think of you at home, than by the consciousness of any story to tell. It is called a hot day today. I found Colonel ––– and Lieutenant-Colonel ––– at Poolesville this morning in a state of intense glow, and crying out at the heat. I find it comfortable, and consider anything short of boiling water my natural element. The force of habit is so strong that my summer on the Potomac has fitted me for tropical life. . . . .

Colonel ––– told us that he had been down the river this morning, and taken a look at the enemy's picket on the other side. And a short conversation took place between our picket and theirs as to the relative forces and skill, &c. This disgusted Colonel Andrews, who tersely expressed the opinion, “When you see an enemy, shoot him.” The shooting of pickets seems to have been voted by respectable authorities to be barbarous. Why, I cannot see. It amounts to this: If you don't shoot, they can post their men securely where they please, and thus attain, without risk, the advantages of outlook and guard which they desire. If you do shoot, they can't choose their position, nor readily secure their advantages. This seems to me conclusive. But humanity is a very vague term when applied to war. And we handle these questions very differently from the way in which we shall if the war lasts We are looking for a visit and review from McClellan. That will be an incident, and well worth while. The fact is, General Banks has been gradually stripped of his column. General Stone, a regular officer, has been given a separate division at Poolesville, and many of the best officers have been withdrawn from us. General Banks is left without a staff. Has lost much of his artillery and cavalry. . . . . If it were not that I believe that whatever is is right, and that docile submission is the best wisdom, I should regret belonging to this division, as it seems just outside of the work. But I am perfectly content with things as they are. When the time comes I hope it will find us ready.

McClellan doesn't believe in fresh-sprouted major-generals. That's clear.

I guess we shall see him in a day or two, and then perhaps he will open the path to glory to us. He keeps the gates. . . . .

Coffee-roaster has arrived, and is merrily at work. This is a comfort. Tell father he is the regiment's friend, and I bless him. Colonel Andrews says that I love the Second Regiment first, and my country next. Perhaps it is true. At all events, I care only for its success at present. The call is beating for parade, and the sun is setting. Good by.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 102-3

Major-General John Sedgwick to his Sister, August 23, 1863

Warrenton, Virginia, August 23, 1863.

My dear sister:

I can scarcely hope to make you a visit this fall. I had hoped that something would turn up that would give me a few days' leave, but cannot see it now. I feel that I have done more than my share of field duty in the last four years; there are many General officers that have never been in the field, and I am one of the very few that started out and have been constantly on duty with the Army of the Potomac. The presentation that I wrote you about some weeks since comes off on Wednesday. I have not seen the articles yet, but have been told they are very handsome and rich. The horse is a beauty, cost six hundred dollars; his equipments, with the round girth and other traps, cost over seventeen hundred. I shall not know what to do with them. They will be too expensive for the field. The conscripts are coming in slowly, but, so far, not as many as have been sent off to enforce the draft. It will be many weeks before they are fit to take the field. I should not be surprised if some other field was chosen for the next operations. With much love to all, I am, as ever,

Your affectionate brother,

J. s.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 145-6

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, January 16, 1862

Fayetteville, January 16, 1862.

Dear Lucy: — Lieutenants Warren and Smith leave today. We are very well. Mud awful deep and streams overflowing. I shall apply for leave of absence soon after Captains Sperry and Zimmerman return, provided Dr. Joe is here. Of course it would not do for two prominent officers of the same family to be absent at the same time. These leaves of absence are so abused, that in the absence of some great necessity, I would not leave my regiment unless plenty of officers remain. I shall leave about the last of the month, I think, unless Dr. Joe should be detained on your account.

I am writing in much haste with a host of citizens growling. Love to all.

Good-bye, dearest.

R. B. Hayes

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 188-9