Diary of Sarah Morgan: August 9, 1862

To our great surprise, Charlie came in this morning from the other side. He was in the battle, and General Carter, and dozens of others that we did not think of. See the mountain reduced to a mole-hill! He says, though the fight was desperate, we lost only eighty-five killed, and less than a hundred and fifty wounded! And we had only twenty-five hundred against the Yankees' four thousand five hundred. There is no truth in our having held the Garrison even for a moment, though we drove them down to the river in a panic. The majority ran like fine fellows, but a Maine regiment fought like devils. He says Will and Thompson Bird set fire to the Yankee camp with the greatest alacrity, as though it were rare fun. General Williams was killed as he passed Piper's, by a shot from a window, supposed to have been fired by a citizen. Some one from town told him that the Federals were breaking in the houses, destroying the furniture, and tearing the clothes of the women and children in shreds, like maniacs. O my home! I wonder if they have entered ours? What a jolly time they would have over all the letters I left in my desk! Butler has ordered them to burn Baton Rouge if forced to evacuate it. Looks as though he was not so sure of holding it.

Miss Turner told Miriam that her mother attempted to enter town after the fight to save some things, when the gallant Colonel Dudley put a pistol to her head, called her an old she-devil, and told her he would blow her d----- brains out if she moved a step; that anyhow, none but we d----- women had put the men up to fighting, and we were the ones who were to blame for the fuss. There is no name he did not call us.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 159-60

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, December 4, 1864

Rain last night. The First and Third Divisions and the First Brigade of the Fourth Division destroyed the railroad this forenoon for a distance of ten miles. The Iowa Brigade acted as train guard. We covered fifteen miles today and went into bivouac near Cameron Station. For the last two or three days, we marched through fine country, though in some places it is very sandy and the land is heavily timbered with pine. The soil is very sandy, but the higher land is well improved and thickly settled. Good crops were raised the past season, the work having been done by old men and negro women. Most of the citizens have left their homes.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 234

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Monday, December 5, 1864

We started out at 6 o'clock this morning, and by 11 our corps had destroyed twelve miles of railroad. We then left the railroad and marching ten miles, over very fine roads, went into camp near Oliver Station. A force of eight thousand rebels left Oliver this morning for Savannah. They came into the town last night and throwing up earthworks made preparations for a fight, but this morning they concluded that they had better move on, or they would get hurt, and the infantry left without firing a gun. Our cavalry had a little skirmish with them this morning. The Fifteenth Army Corps is on the west side of the Ogeechee river, but in advance of us, and perhaps the rebels were fearful of being cut off from Savannah.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 234-5

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, December 6, 1864

We lay in camp all day. The day was spent in washing, cleaning and mending our clothes. The long march is beginning to tell on our clothing and shoes. My shoes are whole yet, but owing to so much sand, and wading through water, my feet are sore. My right foot is worn through on the bottom, and my toes are wet with blood every day. We are now within forty-five miles of Savannah, Georgia, and about ninety miles from Charleston, South Carolina. We can hear the large guns roaring from both places. The rebels are still retreating before us without much fighting. We are still in a rich country for foraging. Each regiment sends out its foraging party and we have plenty of sweet potatoes and fresh pork; We will have better roads now for marching as we approach Savannah. All is quiet in the rear of the army.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 235

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Wednesday, December 7, 1864

It rained all forenoon today, but because of the sand our road did not get muddy. We started at 7 this morning and after stepping off fifteen miles by 4 o'clock, we went into camp for the night. Our regiment led the advance of our corps. The rebels blocked our road by felling trees at the entrance to every swamp, thus delaying our march, since there were a good many swamps to cross. We had to build four or five small bridges, and also had to do some corduroy work. The First Michigan Engineers in advance of us had charge of the work.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 235

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Thursday, December 8, 1864

We left bivouac at 8 o'clock this morning, but owing to the roads, we moved very slowly, making only twelve miles before going into camp. Just before our regiment started into bivouac, we were ordered to stack arms and help our teams across a narrow swamp. We went about a half mile for rails, each man carrying from two to four, to corduroy the road so that the artillery and wagons could cross. Our cavalry had a skirmish with the rebels at noon today, when passing through Marlow Station, and captured a train of cars by cutting the railroad before the rebels could get the train past the station. We drew two days' rations today, with orders to make them last five days.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 235

James Buchanan to John Tyler, February 22, 1861

washington, February 22, 1861.

My Dear Sir: I found it impossible to prevent two or three companies of the Federal troops from joining in the procession to-day with the volunteers of the District, without giving serious offence to the tens of thousands of people who have assembled to witness the parade.

The day is the anniversary of Washington's birth, a festive occasion throughout the land, and it has been particularly marked by the House of Representatives.

The troops everywhere else join such processions in honor of the birthday of the Father of our Country, and it would be hard to assign a good reason why they should be excluded from the privilege in the Capital founded by himself. They are here simply as a posse comitatus, to aid the civil authorities in case of need. Besides, the programme was published in the National Intelligencer of this morning without my personal knowledge, the War Department having considered the celebration of the national anniversary by the military arm of the Government as a matter of course.

From your friend, very respectfully,

james Buchanan.

President Tyler.

SOURCE: Samuel Wylie Crawford, The Genesis of the Civil War: The Story of Sumter, 1860-1861, p. 274-5

Diary of William Howard Russell: April 24, 1861

In the morning we found ourselves in chopping little sea-way for which the “Nina” was particularly unsuited, laden as she was with provisions and produce. Eyes and glasses anxiously straining seawards for any trace of the blockading vessels. Every sail scrutinized, but no “stars and stripes” visible.

Our captain — a good specimen of one of the inland-water navigators, shrewd, intelligent, and active, — told me a good deal about the country. He laughed at the fears of the whites as regards the climate. “Why, here am I,” said he, “going up the river, and down the river all times of the year, and at times of day and night when they reckon the air is most deadly, and I've done so for years without any bad effects. The planters whose houses I pass all run away in May, and go off to Europe, or to the piney wood, or to the springs, or they think they'd all die. There's Captain Buck, who lives above here, — he comes from the State of Maine. He had only a thousand dollars to begin with, but he sets to work and gets land on the Maccamaw River at twenty cents an acre. It was death to go nigh it, but it was first-rate rice land, and Captain Buck is now worth a million of dollars. He lives on his estate all the year round, and is as healthy a man as ever you seen.”

To such historiettes my planting friends turn a deaf ear. “I tell you what,” said Pringle, “just to show you what kind our climate is. I had an excellent overseer once, who would insist on staying near the river, and wouldn't go away. He fought against it for more than five-and-twenty years, but he went down with fever at last.” As the overseer was more than thirty years of age when he came to the estate, he had not been cut off so very suddenly. I thought of the quack's advertisement of the “bad leg of sixty years' standing.” The captain says the negroes on the river plantations are very well off. He can buy enough of pork from the slaves on one plantation to last his ship's crew for the whole winter. The money goes to them, as the hogs are their own. One of the stewards on board had bought himself and his family out of bondage with his earnings. The State in general, however, does not approve of such practices.

At three o'clock, P. M., ran into Charleston harbor, ant landed soon afterwards.

I saw General Beauregard in the evening: he was very lively and in good spirits, though he admitted he was rather surprised by the spirit displayed in the North. “A good deal of it is got up, however,” he said, “and belongs to that washy sort of enthusiasm which is promoted by their lecturing and spouting.” Beauregard is very proud of his personal strength, which for his slight frame is said to be very extraordinary, and he seemed to insist on it that the Southern men had more physical strength, owing to their mode of life and their education, than their Northern “brethren.” In the evening held a sort of tabaks consilium in the hotel, where a number of officers  — Manning, Lucas, Chestnut, Calhoun, &c, — discoursed of the affairs of the nation. All my friends, except Trescot, I think were elated at the prospect of hostilities with the North, and overjoyed that a South Carolina regiment had already set out for the frontiers of Virginia.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 135-6

Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. to John L. Motley, March 8, 1862

Boston, March 8, 1862.

My Dear Motley: I have been debating with myself whether to wait for further news from Nashville, the Burnside expedition, Savannah, or somewhere, before writing you, and came to the conclusion that I will begin this February 24, and keep my letter along a few days, adding whatever may turn up, with a reflection thereupon. Your last letter, as I told you, was of great interest in itself, and for the extracts it contained from the letters of your correspondents. I lent it to your father and your brother Edward, and a few days ago to William Amory, at his particular request. Calling on old Mr. Quincy two days ago, we talked of you. He desired me most expressly and repeatedly to send his regards and respects. I think I am pretty near the words, but they were very cordial and distinguishing ones, certainly. He takes the greatest interest in your prosperity and fame, and you know that the greatest of men have not many nonagenarian admirers. It is nine weeks, I think, since Mr. Quincy fell and fractured the neck of the thigh-bone, and he has been on his back ever since. But he is cheerful, ready to live or die; considers his later years as an appendix to the opus of his life, that he has had more than he bargained for when he accepted life.

As you might suppose it would be at ninety, though he greatly rejoices at our extraordinary successes of late, he does not think we are “out of the woods,” as he has it, yet. A defeat, he thinks, would take down our spirits as rapidly as they were raised. “But I am an old man,” he says, “and, to be sure, an old man cannot help seeing the uncertainties and difficulties which the excitable public overlooks in its exaltation.”

Never was such ecstasy, such delirium of excitement, as last Monday, a week ago to-day, when we got the news from Fort Donelson. Why, — to give you an instance from my own experience, — when I, a grave college professor, went into my lecture-room, the class, which had first got the news a little before, began clapping and clapping louder and louder, then cheering, until I had to give in myself, and flourishing my wand in the air, joined with the boys in their rousing hurrahs, after which I went on with my lecture as usual. The almost universal feeling is that the rebellion is knocked on the head; that it may kick hard, even rise and stagger a few paces, but that its os frontis is beaten in.

The last new thing is the President's message, looking to gradual compensated emancipation. I don't know how it will be received here, but the effect will be good abroad. John Stuart Mill's article in “Fraser” has delighted people here more than anything for a good while. I suppose his readers to be the best class of Englishmen.

Yours always,

O. W. H.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 246-8

John M. Forbes to William Curtis Noyes, August 12, 1862

Naushon Island, August 12,1862.

My Dear Sir, — Your favor of the 7th has been sent me here, where I am established for a month or two, with a chance to visit Boston only occasionally. I am very glad that my plan strikes you favorably. Governor Andrew made me a flying visit yesterday, and seems to like the idea much; he had already made use of the slips I sent him of the “aristocracy vs. popular government” by sending them to the recruiting stations.

I sincerely hope a thorough system may be inaugurated under your personal oversight in such a manner as will shut off any attempt to use it either for personal ambition (i. e. for lauding political or military aspirants), or even for pushing the views of our most extreme Republicans. To do its best work, it needs to be broader than any one set of men, even the best, belonging to our wing of the Republican party. In other words, its aim should not be anti-slavery, except incidentally, but should be “the vigorous prosecution of the war.” How would it do to style it “the committee of correspondence upon the vigorous prosecution of the war”?

Mr. George W. Curtis, who is here, and has considerable experience with the press, thinks there is some danger of jealousy from the press at the appearance of dictation there would be in my original plan of sending with each article a circular from the committee, suggesting its republication. If this be so, perhaps the best mode would be to have our organization complete, but informal; that is to say, not appearing before the public as a committee. The articles we wish to have republished would, in most cases, if well selected, be adopted in each State, either at the individual suggestion of our committeeman for that point, or they might be sent anonymously with a printed or written line, saying, for instance, that a “fellow-countryman calls your attention to the inclosed important article as valuable for circulation.”

One of the most important ends that could be gained by a judicious organization would be to sink and obliterate the old party names and prejudices, especially those connected with the name of democrat.

You and I have fought under the Whig banner; one of our strongest allies is Mr. Bryant, the leader of the only really Democratic party which ever existed. Yet we constantly find our best Republican journals even now fighting “Democracy.” It seems to me of vast importance to sink these old distinctions, and to put before the voting and fighting masses, in the strongest light, the real issue — of the war-Democratic or Republican [government], (whichever we may call the government of the people) vs. Aristocratic government; in other words, the people vs. a class. . . .

I give you a rough sketch of an organization, and am very truly yours,

J. M. Forbes

SOURCE: Sarah Forbes Hughes, Letters and Recollections of John Murray Forbes, Volume 1, p. 326-7

John Brown to Horatio N. Rust, April 16, 1857

Springfield, Mass., April 16, 1857.

H. N. Rust, Esq.

My Dear Sir, — Your favor of the 9th is received. Please forward to me by express the pistols you have received, and also send me with them the amount you had to pay on the whole package. Be kind enough to say to my friend Blair that I expect funds within a day or two to meet my engagement, and that I mean to call on him. Please direct the package to John (not Captain) Brown, care Massasoit House, Springfield, Mass. Did you receive the package for Selden H. Brown?

Very respectfully your friend,

John Brown.

SOURCE: Franklin B. Sanborn, The Life and Letters of John Brown, p. 376

Captain Charles Fessenden Morse, October 6, 1862

Maryland Heights, October 6, 1862.

Everything continues quiet with us. We have a nice camp and are beginning to make ourselves comfortable. I have a floor in my tent and a patent bedstead of Hogan's invention. Our mess gets on finely; we have plenty to eat and very good too. I know you will be pleased to feel that I am no longer in danger of starvation. You'd hardly believe we had suffered any hardships lately, to see us after dinner or supper, sitting or lying around my tent, enjoying our pipes and cigars, reading the papers or having a quiet discussion on some subject.

Last week, we had a visit from President Lincoln, accompanied by Generals Sumner and Howard and a large staff of other officers. He reviewed our regiment briefly, we receiving him with the customary honors. General Sumner paid our regiment the handsomest compliment that I have heard come from any officer of high rank. He said, in our hearing, to the President, “This is the Second Massachusetts Regiment, the first regiment that volunteered for the war. I have it on good authority, General Sedgwick, that it is the best regiment in the service.”

Such praise as this, coming from the source it does, is very pleasing. After the review, I was detailed (I suppose from my knowledge of the mountain paths and the fact that I had a horse), to guide the party to the summit of the Maryland Heights. I showed the way until we got to a path where it was right straight up, when Abraham backed out. I think it must have reminded him of a little story about a very steep place; at any rate, around they turned and went down the mountain. I gave “Uncle Abe” a few parting words of advice with regard to the general management of things, bade them farewell, and went back to camp.

I am afraid we have lost Colonel Andrews; he was detailed day before yesterday, to take command of a brigade of four new regiments; this is probably but an intermediate step before being commissioned Brigadier. Captain Cogswell is now in command; if neither Major Savage nor Captain Quincy ever come back, he will be Colonel, making Mudge Lieutenant-Colonel, and Russell, Major, and me second Captain, Curtis' old place on the left of the line.

Has the death of Major Sedgwick been spoken of in any of the Boston papers? You remember he was formerly a first Lieutenant in our regiment; he left us last autumn to go to his cousin's, General Sedgwick's, staff, where he was made Assistant Adjutant General and promoted to be Major. We have seen a good deal of him since we left Washington. He was one of the most interesting men in conversation I ever knew, full of stories and experiences of the Peninsular campaign, in which he took an active part, having been present at most of the principal battles. The night before Antietam, he was around at our bivouac. We were discussing the probabilities as to when Richmond would be taken; I made him a bet of a basket of champagne that it wouldn't be taken the 1st of January, 1863. This wager he accepted and registered in my pocket book and signed his name to it. The next day was the battle. General Sedgwick went into it with his division in Sumner's corps; Major Sedgwick received his wound in that terrible wood where our right wing suffered its heaviest loss. The bullet went through his body, grazing his backbone, instantly paralyzing the whole lower parts. He remained on the field two or three hours perfectly conscious, though suffering the worst pain. During this time he wrote several pages in his book, requests, etc. He was removed to Frederick, Maryland, where he died two or three days ago. He was only one among many, but he was one of the original “Second,” and a man I always liked very much.

I believe I have not told you about our old flag. Sergeant Lundy is color-bearer now (the old Crimean soldier of whom I sent the daguerreotype); he's a splendid fellow and plucky as can be; all through the action, he kept the flag up at full height, waving it to and fro. Well, on examination of it after the fight was over, we found twenty new bullet holes through the colors and three through the staff. The socket in which the butt rested was shot away close to the Sergeant's belt. Our old staff was shot in two at Cedar Mountain, and is now at home being mended. While I think of it, I must tell you of one most singular incident that happened the day of the battle. As we were advancing over one part of the field, which was pretty thickly covered by our dead and wounded, a man of Company F, Captain Mudge's company, suddenly came upon the dead body of his father, who was in the Twelfth Massachusetts Regiment and had been killed early in the day. It was a terrible meeting for father and son; they had not seen each other for over a year. The next day the son got permission to bury his father in a decent manner and put a head-board at his grave.

Have you made up your mind about the Emancipation Proclamation? At first, I was disposed to think that no change would be produced by it, but now, I believe its effect will be good. It is going to set us straight with foreign nations. It gives us a decided policy, and though the President carefully calls it nothing but a war measure, yet it is the beginning of a great reform and the first blow struck at the real, original cause of the war. No foreign nation can now support the South without openly countenancing slavery. The London Times, no doubt, will try to make out slavery a Divine Institution, but its influence does not extend everywhere. I think the course of that paper, since this war began, has been more outrageous than anything I ever knew of; you wouldn't think any paper could be so base as to say, as it has just said, that the President's Proclamation was published to produce a servile insurrection. It may have the effect to cause disturbances among the troops from the extreme Southern States, who will think, perhaps, that their presence is needed more at home than up in Virginia. There is no mistake about it, if the fact becomes generally known among the slaves of the South that they are free as soon as within our lines, there will be a much more general movement among them than there has been before. It is evident that Jeff Davis is frightened by it, to judge by the fearful threats of retaliation he is making.

Yesterday, Bob Shaw and I took a fine horseback ride of about twenty miles, visiting the vicinity of Antietam. Most of McClellan's army is encamped near there. We expected to find the First Massachusetts Cavalry, but they had moved up the river to Williamsport. My horse is in fine condition, now; she seemed to enjoy the exercise yesterday as much as I did.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 95-9

Major Wilder Dwight: Friday Evening, October 25, 1861

Camp Near Conrad's Ferry, October 25,

Friday Evening.

I shall try to send you some, pictures, though I am too tired to-night for anything but sleep.

Scene, our old camp; time, evening. The regiment just getting into marching array under crisp starlight. The men gay with singing and laughter. The camp one huge bonfire of old bedding and tent-floors. Every man in fine marching condition. Again: Scene, the bank of the canal at Conrad's Ferry; time, eight o'clock the next morning. The regiment huddled in dripping groups, under a driving rain. The men tired and silent. Ambulances of wounded men passing by. Blankets swung on poles, covering the bodies of the slain, and borne along with that heavy, dull tread which betokens the presence of death. Jaded stragglers from the river hurrying back, cold and half naked, to their camps; the interchange of greetings and tidings. The Colonel and other field-officers huddled under an apple tree, breakfasting upon a hard-boiled egg, and shivering over a feeble fire, questioning stragglers about the fight. Up comes a Yankee-looking fellow, clad only in an overcoat, with that peculiar hunched-up movement which indicates shuddering cold. Dialogue between Colonel Gordon and Yankee. Colonel G. Where do you come from? Y. The river. G. What regiment? Y. Massachusetts Fifteenth. G. Did you fight? Y. Wal, I guess we did some. G. How many times did you fire? Y. Thirty or forty. G. What did you do during the day? Y. Wal, at first we was skirmishing along, and I got behind a tree, and I was doing first rate. I come out once, but I see a feller sightin' at me, and so I got in again suddin. Then, arter a while, the cavalry came down on us. I see there wa'n't much chance, and so I just dropped into a hole there was there, and stayed still. Pretty soon we retreated towards the river. We got together there, and formed a kind of a line, and then the fitin' really began. Some fellers came out near us, and says they, “We 're Colonel Baker's men.” “Guess not,” says I. “Yes we are,” says they. “I know better,” says I. “Let 'er rip, boys!” and we fired on 'em. But 't wa'n't no kind o' use. Baker got killed, and we couldn't see the enemy, and they raked us like death. I finally come down the bank with the rest on 'em. I see Colonel Devens there. Says I, “Colonel, wot's to be done now?” “Boys,” says he, “you must take care of yourselves.” “All right, Colonel,” says I. And the way my 'couterments come off was a caution. I swum the river. But I tell you there was a sight on 'em didn't get across.” G. Do you want to go back again? Y. Wal, not till I get rested. G. You 're cold, ain't you? Y. I tell you, I just am. G. Don't you want some whiskey? Y. Don't I? (Yankee takes a pull at the Colonel's flask, and expresses himself only by a long, silent, intensely meaning wink.) Yankee then turns and sees a shivering figure approaching. “Hullo, John; I never expected to see you again. Wal, I guess we'd better go to camp,” and off he moves. The drollery of the scene I cannot give. I just indicate an outline of the cool, circumstantial narratives that every other man would give you. We found none so amusing as this, which relieved our tedious breakfast. But the men showed no fear, and, only by an occasional allusion, any sense of the terrors through which some of them had passed. Their only idea seemed to be, If there only had been more of us, how we would have licked 'em! All accounts agree that the two Massachusetts regiments fought splendidly, as far as individual daring and coolness go.

I sent you off a letter yesterday; for I must continue my story without a formal introduction of each picture. I mailed the letter with the ink wet upon it, and went off on my duty to the river, to take charge of my picket-line along the canal. But as tattoo is now beating, and as I put on my clothes in Washington on Monday morning and have not yet taken them off this Friday night, I will tell the rest of my story to-morrow.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 123-4

Edwin M. Stanton to Major-General John A. Dix, June 11, 1861

Washington, June 11, 1861.

my Dear Sir, — It gives me great pleasure that in the midst of arduous duties you still bear me in kind remembrance. The meeting of the 24th of April in New York has become a national epoch; for it was a manifestation of patriotic feeling beyond any example in history. To that meeting, the courage it inspired, and the organized action it produced, this Government will owe its salvation, if saved it can be. To the general gratification of the country at your position as Chairman of the Union Committee, there was added in my breast a feeling of security and succor that until that time was unknown. No one can imagine the deplorable condition of this city, and the hazard of the Government, who did not witness the weakness and panic of the administration, and the painful imbecility of Lincoln.

We looked to New York in that dark hour as our only deliverance under Providence, and, thank God, it came. The uprising of the people of the United States to maintain their government and crush rebellion has been so grand, so mighty in every element, that I feel it a blessing to be alive and witness it. The action of your city, especially, filled me with admiration, and proves the right of New York to be called the Empire City. But the picture has a dark side — dark and terrible —from the corruption that surrounds the War Department, and seems to poison with venomous breath the very atmosphere. Millions of New York capital, the time, strength, and perhaps lives, of thousands of patriotic citizens will be wanted to gorge a ravenous crew. On every side the Government and the soldiers are pillaged. Arms, clothing, transportation, provisions, are each and all subjects of peculation and spoil. On one side the waves of treason and rebellion arc madly dashing; on the other is a yawning gulf of national bankruptcy. Our cause is the greatest that any generation of men was ever called upon to uphold — it would seem to be God's cause, and must triumph. But when we witness venality and corruption growing in power every day, and controlling the millions of money that should be a patriotic sacrifice for national deliverance, and treating the treasure of the nation as a booty to be divided among thieves, hope dies away. Deliverance from this danger also must come from New York. Those who are unwilling to see blood shed, lives lost, treasure wasted in vain, must take speedy measures to reform the evil before it be too late.

Of military affairs I can form no judgment. Every day affords fresh proof of the design to give the war a party direction. The army appointments appear (with two or three exceptions only) to be bestowed on persons whose only claim is their Republicanism — broken down politicians without experience, ability, or any other merit. Democrats are rudely repulsed or scowled upon with jealous and ill-concealed aversion. The Western Democracy are already becoming disgusted, and between the corruption of some of the Republican leaders, and the self-seeking ambition of others, some great disaster may soon befall the nation. How long will the Democracy of New York tolerate these things?

The navy is in a state of hopeless imbecility, and is believed to be far from being purged of the treachery that has already occasioned so much shame and dishonor.

In respect to domestic affairs, Mrs. Stanton and I hoped to visit New York last month, but the critical state of affairs made it hazardous to leave our children, and we could not take them with us. With the enemy still at our gates we cannot venture to leave home. We hoped to see you here, especially after you had accepted the appointment of Major-general. But now that the administration has got over its panic, you are not the kind of man that would be welcome. There are many details that I could give you in respect to proceedings here, but it is painful to think of them, and to write them down would be a tedious and disgusting task. I hope our cause may triumph despite the low passions and mean intellects that now weigh it down. But whatever may be our fate, I shall always be happy to be esteemed your friend. Mrs. Stanton and your pet are well, and join in expressions of regard.

Yours truly,

Edwin M. Stanton.

Hon. John A. Dix.

SOURCE: Morgan Dix, Memoirs of John Adams Dix, Volume 2, p. 18-20

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Wednesday, February 26, 1862

Spent in Gallipolis waiting for a steamboat going up the Kanawha. Quartermaster Cuthbert and I slept, walked, and watched the clouds and rain.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 200

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: February 22, 1862

Such a day! The heavens weep incessantly. Capitol Square is black with umbrellas; and a shelter has been erected for the President to stand under.

I walked up to the monument and heard the Inaugural read by the President. He read it well, and seemed self-poised in the midst of disasters, which he acknowledged had befallen us. And he admitted that there had been errors in our war policy. We had attempted operations on too extensive a scale, thus diffusing our powers which should have been concentrated. I like these candid confessions. They augur a different policy hereafter, and we may hope for better results in the future. We must all stand up for our country.

Mr. Hunter hajs resigned, and taken his place in the Senate.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 111

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: December 1, 1864

At Coosawhatchie Yankees are landing in great force. Our troops down there are raw militia, old men and boys never under fire before; some college cadets, in all a mere handful. The cradle and the grave have been robbed by us, they say. Sherman goes to Savannah and not to Augusta.

SOURCES: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 336

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: July 18, 1863

This day two years ago the battle of Bull Run was fought, a kind of prelude to that of Manassas, on the 21st. Since that time what scenes have been enacted! Battles have been fought by scores, and lives, precious lives, have been sacrificed by thousands, and that, too, of the very flower of our country. Again I have heard of the death of one of our dear E. H. S. boys — William H. Robb, of Westmoreland. He was with us for four years, and was very, very dear to us all. He died of wounds received in a cavalry fight at Brandy Station. We thought he had recovered, but this evening brought the fatal tidings. The news of the New York riots, which they got up in opposition to the draft, is cheering! Oh! that they could not get up another army, and would fight each other! Fitz Lee's cavalry had a fight yesterday at Shepherdstown, and repulsed the enemy handsomely. All eyes turn gloomily to Charleston. It is greatly feared that it will have to succumb to Federal force. I trust that our Heavenly Father may avert so dire a calamity!

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 231-2

Francis H. Wigfall to Charlotte Cross Wigfall, October 13, 1863

camp Near Fox's Ford,

rappahannock River, Oct. 13, 1863.

Dear Mama.

We are once more on the campaign. We had a running fight day before yesterday fighting all day. My little grey was killed under me at the first position we went into. The battery lost four killed and wounded, three of them from my section. We crossed at Raccoon Ford that morning and camped at Brandy Station that night. We are about to move and I must close. Love to all. Goodbye, dearest Mama. In haste,

Your affectionate

Halsey.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 152

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Friday, August 8, 1862

Again last night, about nine, we heard cannon in Baton Rouge, and watched the flashes, which preceded the reports by a minute, at least, for a long time. We must have seen our own firing; perhaps we wanted to find out the batteries of the enemy. It was not the most delightful thing imaginable to watch what might be the downfall of our only home! And then to think each ball might bring death to some one we love! Ah, no! it was not pleasant! Miriam and I have many friends in Breckinridge's division, I expect, if we could only hear the names of the regiments. The Fourth is certainly there. And poor Will! I wonder if he has had his supper yet? I have been thinking of him ever since Mr. Scales told me he was there, and praying myself sick for his safety and that of the rest. I shut my eyes at every report and say, “Oh, please! poor Will! — and the others, too!” And when I don't hear the cannon, I pray, to be in advance of the next.

It is now midday, and again we hear firing; but have yet to learn the true story of the first day's fight. Preserve me from the country in such stirring days! We might as well be in Europe as to have the Mississippi between us and town.

By unanimous consent, the little lane in front of the house has been christened “Guerrilla Lane,” and the long one leading to the river, “Arkansas.” What an episode that was, in our lives! The officers go by the name of Miriam's, Ginnie's, Sarah's, as though they belonged to each!

Those girls did me the meanest thing imaginable. Mr. Talbot and I were planning a grand combined attack on Baton Rouge, in which he was to command a fleet and attack the town by the river, while I promised to get up a battalion of girls and attack them in the rear. We had settled it all, except the time, when just then all the others stopped talking. I went on: “And now, it is only necessary for you to name the day —” Here the girls commenced to giggle, and the young men tried to suppress a smile; I felt annoyed, but it did not strike me until after they had left, that I had said anything absurd. What evil imaginations they must have, if they could have fancied I meant anything except the battle!

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 158-9