Major-General John Sedgwick to his Sister, March 27, 1864

March 27, 1864.

My dear sister:

Yours of the 19th came last night. General Grant arrived yesterday, and established his headquarters in Culpeper, about five miles from General Meade's. I have not yet seen him since his return. I liked his appearance and the general tone of his remarks and comments very much; but I doubt whether he will be able to effect much more than other Generals we have had in command here. The truth is, we are on the wrong road to take Richmond. The army has been reorganized by General Meade, my corps considerably increased. I hope when the campaign opens to have twenty-five thousand men and forty-eight pieces of artillery — a small army in itself.

Cousin Charles's wife's daughter and three young ladies made me a visit, staying three days. They came down to attend a ball, and the first intimation I had they drove up to my quarters; but we made them very comfortable, and had a delightful time. Tell Eliza, if Harry cannot get an appointment to West Point (and I do not think he can), that he would have no difficulty in getting one as civil engineer in the navy. It is not only a respectable one, but it is a rising place, and that department is to become an important one in our navy.

With much love, I am, as ever,

Your affectionate brother,

J. S.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 178-9

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Monday, February 3, 1862

Charleston, Virginia.—Leave this morning on the steamboat for Gallipolis. Reached there at 2

P. M. A drizzly, cold day, snow on the hills, mud, snow, and slush at Gallipolis. With Avery and Bill Brown over town; oysters, eggs, and ale. At nine P. M. on Dunleith down the Ohio.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 198

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Tuesday, February 4, 1862

Steamboat Dunleith, Ohio River. — A bright cold winter day; a good sail down the Ohio. Banks full. Beautiful river.

Reached home as the clock finished striking 12 midnight. A light burning in front room. Wife, boys, Grandma, all well. “Perfectly splendid.”

_______________

The entries in the Diary for the next few days are very brief. Tuesday, February 11, Hayes went to Columbus to visit his brother-in-law, W. A. Platt, and family; two days later to Delaware where he remained two days with his mother. The week-end he spent “happily at Fremont with Uncle. All the talk is of battles — the late victories at Roanoke Island, Fort Henry, and the pending struggle at Donelson.” Monday, the 17th, returning to Cincinnati, he hears “of the decisive victory at Fort Donelson as we reached Crestline and Galion. Joy and excitement, cannon, flags, crowds of happy people everywhere.” The following days at home in Cincinnati “getting ready to return to his regiment.”

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 198-9

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: February 1, 1862

We had a startling rumor yesterday that New Orleans had been taken by the enemy, without firing a gun. I hastened to the Secretary and asked him if it could be true. He had not heard of it, and turned pale. But a moment after, recollecting the day on which it was said the city had fallen, he seized a New Orleans paper of a subsequent date, and said the news could not be true, since the paper made no mention of it.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 108

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: October 28, 1864

Burton Harrison writes to General Preston that supreme anxiety reigns in Richmond.

Oh, for one single port! If the Alabama had had in the whole wide world a port to take her prizes to and where she could be refitted, I believe she would have borne us through. Oh, for one single port by which we could get at the outside world and refit our whole Confederacy! If we could have hired regiments from Europe, or even have imported ammunition and food for our soldiers!

“Some days must be dark and dreary.” At the mantua-maker's, however, I saw an instance of faith in our future: a bride's paraphernalia, and the radiant bride herself, the bridegroom expectant and elect now within twenty miles of Chattanooga and outward bound to face the foe.

Saw at the Laurens's not only Lizzie Hamilton, a perfect little beauty, but the very table the first Declaration of Independence was written upon. These Laurenses are grandchildren of Henry Laurens, of the first Revolution. Alas! we have yet to make good our second declaration of independence — Southern independence — from Yankee meddling and Yankee rule. Hood has written to ask them to send General Chesnut out to command one of his brigades. In whose place?

If Albert Sidney Johnston had lived! Poor old General Lee has no backing. Stonewall would have saved us from Antietam. Sherman will now catch General Lee by the rear, while Grant holds him by the head, and while Hood and Thomas are performing an Indian war-dance on the frontier. Hood means to cut his way to Lee; see if he doesn't. The “Yanks” have had a struggle for it. More than once we seemed to have been too much for them. We have been so near to success it aches one to think of it. So runs the table-talk.

Next to our house, which Isabella calls “Tillytudlem,” since Mr. Davis's visit, is a common of green grass and very level, beyond which comes a belt of pine-trees. On this open space, within forty paces of us, a regiment of foreign deserters has camped. They have taken the oath of allegiance to our government, and are now being drilled and disciplined into form before being sent to our army. They are mostly Germans, with some Irish, however. Their close proximity keeps me miserable. Traitors once, traitors forever.

Jordan has always been held responsible for all the foolish proclamations, and, indeed, for whatever Beauregard reported or proclaimed. Now he has left that mighty chief, and, lo, here comes from Beauregard the silliest and most boastful of his military bulletins. He brags of Shiloh; that was not the way the story was told to us.

A letter from Mrs. Davis, who says: “Thank you, a thousand times, my dear friend, for your more than maternal kindness to my dear child.” That is what she calls her sister, Maggie Howell. “As to Mr. Davis, he thinks the best ham, the best Madeira, the best coffee, the best hostess in the world, rendered Columbia delightful to him when he passed through. We are in a sad and anxious state here just now. The dead come in; but the living do not go out so fast. However, we hope all things and trust in God as the only one able to resolve the opposite state of feeling into a triumphant, happy whole. I had a surprise of an unusually gratifying nature a few days since, I found I could not keep my horses, so I sold them. The next day they were returned to me with a handsome anonymous note to the effect that they had been bought by a few friends for me. But I fear I can not feed them. Strictly between us, things look very anxious here."

SOURCES: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 330-2

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: Saturday Evening, June 27, 1863

Just heard from W. and S. H.; both terribly robbed by the raiders in the last three days. All of my brother's horses and mules taken. Some of the servants were forced off, who staid so faithfully by them, and resisted all the Yankee entreaties twice before. They attempted to burn the wheat, which is shocked in the field, but an opportune rain made it too wet to burn. The raiders came up the river, destroying crops, carriages, etc., stealing horses and cattle, and carrying off the servants from every plantation, until they got to Hickory Hill, (Mr. W. F. Wickham's,) where they found a prize in the person of General W. F. Lee, who was wounded at the cavalry fight of Beverley's Ford, and was at Mr. Ws, unable to move. Notwithstanding the remonstrances of his wife and mother, they took him out of his bed, placed him in Mr. Wickham's carriage, and drove off with him. I can't conceive greater hardness of heart than it required to resist the entreaties of that beautiful young wife and infirm mother. F. has just received a note from the former, written in sorrow and loneliness. She fears that the wound may suffer greatly by locomotion; beyond that, she has much to dread, but she scarcely knows what.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 224

Charlotte Cross Wigfall to Lieutenant Francis H. Wigfall, July 16, 1863

orange C. H., July 16th, 1863.

It is some time since I have written to you, my dearest son, but the uncertainty of your getting letters make it almost useless to write. The note you sent in pencil by Mr. Winston came yesterday and was thankfully received. ’Tis the only tidings we have had of you for weeks except from Col. P., who told me you were well up to the 23rd of June, and your father saw an officer on the cars who said he had seen you on the 4th. Your note bears date a week later. Write, my child, whenever opportunity offers. You cannot tell the intense anxiety and uneasiness of those left at home. We have all been watching with painful interest the course of our Army since it crossed the border, and although late accounts have cast a gloom upon us, we all feel assured that Lee will yet do something to make them tremble as much as they are now exulting over our misfortunes. Troubles seem to thicken upon us all at once. The fall of Vicksburg and the attack on Charleston when so many of the troops have been withdrawn are enough to dispirit us, but we are not dismayed, but believe that all will yet be right. The most sickening feature is the prolongation of the war. Groaning, however, will do neither you nor me any good, so a truce to it.

I had a long letter from Mrs. Johnston dated July 5th. She had not then heard of the fall of Vicksburg, but fully expected it as did we. Genl. Johnston wrote fully to your father June 28th, and told him it was utterly impossible with his 25,000 men, scarcely then equipped, to relieve the place and that if Kirby Smith could do nothing it must fall. Mrs. Johnston encloses me a letter to her from her husband, which is so noble and manly in its tone that I don't wonder that she is proud of him. . . .

F. has just come in with a letter from Genl. Hampton to your father. He writes from Charlottesville, says he is doing well and hopes in a few days to go home. Genl. Hood came with him to Staunton where he is under the care of Dr. Darby, requires nothing but good nursing and generous diet and proposes to pay us a visit if he can.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 141-2

Diary of Sarah Morgan: July 31, 1862

I believe I forgot to mention one little circumstance in my account of that first night at the Deaf and Dumb Asylum, which at the time struck me with extreme disgust. That was seeing more than one man who had no females or babies to look after, who sought there a refuge from the coming attack. At daylight, one dapper young man, in fashionable array, came stepping lightly on the gallery, carrying a neat carpet-bag in his hand. I hardly think he expected to meet two young ladies at that hour; I shall always believe he meant to creep away before any one was up; for he certainly looked embarrassed when we looked up, though he assumed an air of indifference, and passed by bravely swinging his sack — but I think he wanted us to believe he was not ashamed. I dare say it was some little clerk in his holiday attire; but I can't say what contempt I felt for the creature.

Honestly, I believe the women of the South are as brave as the men who are fighting, and certainly braver than the “Home Guard.” I have not yet been able to coax myself into being as alarmed as many I could name are. They say it is because I do not know the danger. Soit. I prefer being brave through ignorance, to being afraid in consequence of my knowledge of coming events. Thank Heaven, my brothers are the bravest of the brave! I would despise them if they shrunk back, though Lucifer should dispute the path with them. Well! All men are not Morgan boys! They tell me cowards actually exist, though I hope I never met one. The poor men that went to the Asylum for safety might not have what Lavinia calls “a moral backbone.” No wonder, then, they tumbled in there! Besides, I am told half the town spent the night on the banks of the river, on that occasion; and perhaps these unfortunates were subject to colds, and preferred the shelter of a good roof. Poor little fellows! How I longed to give them my hoops, corsets, and pretty blue organdie in exchange for their boots and breeches! Only I thought it was dangerous; for suppose the boots had been so used to running that they should prance off with me, too? Why, it would ruin my reputation! Miss Morgan in petticoats is thought to be “as brave as any other man”; but these borrowed articles might make her fly as fast “as any other man,” too, if panic is contagious, as the Yankees here have proved. One consolation is, that all who could go with any propriety, and all who were worthy of fighting, among those who believed in the South, are off at the seat of war; it is only trash, and those who are obliged to remain for private reasons, who still remain. Let us count those young individuals as trash, and step over them. Only ask Heaven why you were made with a man's heart, and a female form, and those creatures with beards were made as bewitchingly nervous?

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 137-9

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Saturday, November 19, 1864

There was some rain last night and the roads today are very slippery, which as the country is so hilly, makes difficult marching. We marched fifteen miles and went into bivouac. Our division was in the rear of the Seventeenth Corps, the infantry marching at one side of the road so that the artillery and wagon trains could move together and all go into bivouac earlier and at the same time. The country is thickly settled. The citizens on the approach of our army left their homes and fled to Macon. We passed through Hillsboro at 10 a. m., and the town being deserted, many of the vacant houses were burned by our men. We heard the sound of cannon off to our right in the direction of Macon.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 230

Major-General John Sedgwick to his Sister, March 14, 1864

March 14, 1864.

My dear sister:

Your letter of the 9th instant came two days since. I have nothing especial to say. General Grant made a flying visit here last week. I spent the evening with him, and was most agreeably disappointed, both in his personal appearance and his straightforward, common-sense view of matters. He has gone back again, but is expecting to return in two or three weeks, and, rumour says, will take command of this army. Good feeling seemed to exist between him and General Meade.

The great raid was a great failure. It does not seem to have been made with any judgment. At the time there were no troops in Richmond, and by a bold dash it was hoped that such a command might enter the city and release our prisoners.

I am very sorry to hear that Cousin Catherine is so ill; but I hope the warm weather will invigourate her, and she may be spared to us for many years. When you write her, give her my great love. Give Cousin Mary, too, much love. Give the recruit such a present as you think suitable. The picture is in Washington. I sent it up to have it touched over, and the artist wanted to see me before completing it. I shall probably go up in a few days, and soon after will send it on. You know it was painted from a photograph, the painter never having seen me.

With much love, I am, as ever,

Your affectionate brother,

John Sedgwick.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, Correspondence of John Sedgwick, Major-General, Volume 2, p. 177-8

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: February 2, 1862

Loup Creek Landing, five miles below Landing. — Sunday morning finds us waiting for a steamboat to get down Kanawha River. General Meigs took us aboard about 12 M. A cold ride — occasional gleams of sunshine — down the Kanawha to Charleston. A picturesque valley, high hills, ruins of salt-works, etc., etc., a fine river, make up the scene. A servant girl of Mrs. Mauser, apparently under the auspices of Thomas (he passed her on the steamer as his wife!), was met by our team yesterday and taken aboard a half mile out of Fayetteville. She must have been there by preconcert with Thomas. The feeling of the soldiers, a sort of indifferent satisfaction, easily roused to active zeal, expressed itself, “Another shade of Mrs. Mauser's lost.” Not another syllable by way of comment in a circle of six around the camp-fire.

Reached Charleston before dark. Avery and I took quarters at the Kanawha House, a good hotel. Visited General Cox; a good talk; a sound man; excellent sense. I wish he commanded our brigade.  . . . Heard the church bells at Charleston — the first for six months; a home sound.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 198

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 28, 1862

There must soon be collisions in the West on a large scale; but the system of lying, in vogue among the Yankees, most effectually defeats all attempts at reliable computation of numbers. They say we have 150,000 men in Tennessee and Kentucky, whereas we have not 60,000. Their own numbers they represent to be not exceeding 50,000, but I suspect they have three times that number. The shadows of events are crowding thickly upon us, and the events will speak for themselves — and that speedily.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 107

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 29, 1862

What we want is a military man capable of directing operations in the field everywhere. I think Lee is such a man. But can he, a modest man and a Christian, aspire to such a position? Would not Mr. Benjamin throw his influence against such a suggestion? I trust the President will see through the mist generated around him.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 107

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 30, 1862

Some of the mysterious letter-carriers, who have just returned from their jaunt into Tennessee, are applying again for passports to Baltimore, Washington, etc. I refuse them, though they are recommended by Gen. Winder's men; but they will obtain what they want from the Secretary himself, or his Assistant Secretary.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 107-8

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 31, 1862

What if these men (they have passports) should be going to Washington to report the result of their reconnoissances in Tennessee? The Tennessee River is high, and we have no casemated batteries, or batteries of any sort, on it above Fort Henry.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 108

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: October 18, 1864

Ten pleasant days I owe to my sister. Kate has descended upon me unexpectedly from the mountains of Flat Rock. We are true sisters; she understands me without words, and she is the cleverest, sweetest woman I know, so graceful and gracious in manner, so good and unselfish in character, but, best of all, she is so agreeable. Any time or place would be charming with Kate for a companion. General Chesnut was in Camden; but I could not wait. I gave the beautiful bride, Mrs. Darby, a dinner, which was simply perfection. I was satisfied for once in my life with my own table, and I know pleasanter guests were never seated around any table whatsoever.

My house is always crowded. After all, what a number of pleasant people we have been thrown in with by war's catastrophes. I call such society glorious. It is the windup, but the old life as it begins to die will die royally. General Chesnut came back disheartened. He complains that such a life as I lead gives him no time to think.

SOURCES: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 329-30

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: June 26, 1863

While in the midst of preparation to visit my sisters at W. and S. H., we have been startled by the account of Yankees approaching. They have landed in considerable force at the White House, and are riding over the country to burn and destroy. They have burned the South Anna Bridge on the Central Railroad, and this evening were advancing on the bridge over the South Anna, on this railroad, which is but four miles above us. We have a small force there, and a North Carolina regiment has gone up to-night to reinforce them. We are, of course, in considerable excitement. I am afraid they are ruining the splendid wheat harvests which are now being gathered on the Pamunky. Trusting in the Lord, who hath hitherto been our help, we are going quietly to bed, though we believe that they are very near us. From our army we can hear nothing. No one can go farther than Culpeper Court-House in that direction. Why this has been ordered I know not, but for some good military reason, I have no doubt. It is said that Stuart's cavalry have been fighting along the line of the Manassas Gap Railroad with great success. We can hear no particulars.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 223-4

Charlotte Cross Wigfall: July 8, 1863

We are all excited by the news that came yesterday. Owing to the weather or fear of the trains being taken, we have had no mails from Richmond until yesterday and then only a stray paper, but that tells us there has been another battle. Your father does not think that Halsey was in it — but I can't help feeling anxious till I hear more about it.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 140

Diary of Sarah Morgan: July 27, 1862

I have my bird back! As I waked this morning, I heard a well-known chirp in the streets, and called to mother I knew it was Jimmy. Sure enough it is my bird. Lucy Daigre has had him ever since the shelling, as a negro caught it that day and gave it to her.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 135-6

Diary of Sarah Morgan: July 29, 1862

This town, with its ten thousand soldiers, is more quiet than it was with the old population of seven thousand citizens. With this tremendous addition, it is like a graveyard in its quiet, at times. These poor soldiers are dying awfully. Thirteen went yesterday. On Sunday the boats discharged hundreds of sick at our landing. Some lay there all the afternoon in the hot sun, waiting for the wagon to carry them to the hospital, which task occupied the whole evening. In the mean time these poor wretches lay uncovered on the ground, in every stage of sickness. Cousin Will saw one lying dead without a creature by to notice when he died. Another was dying, and muttering to himself as he lay too far gone to brush the flies out of his eyes and mouth, while no one was able to do it for him. Cousin Will helped him, though. Another, a mere skeleton, lay in the agonies of death, too; but he evidently had kind friends, for several were gathered around holding him up, and fanning him, while his son leaned over him crying aloud. Tiche says it was dreadful to hear the poor boy's sobs. All day our vis-à-vis, Baumstark, with his several aids, plies his hammer; all day Sunday he made coffins, and says he can't make them fast enough. Think, too, he is by no means the only undertaker here! Oh, I wish these poor men were safe in their own land! It is heartbreaking to see them die here like dogs, with no one to say Godspeed. The Catholic priest went to see some, sometime ago, and going near one who lay in bed, said some kind thing, when the man burst into tears and cried, “Thank God, I have heard one kind word before I die!” In a few minutes the poor wretch was dead.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 136