Monday, April 20, 2026

Diary of 2nd Sergeant Richard R. Hancock: Tuesday, June 3, 1862

Moving two miles again, we halted for a few days at Marietta, a small village in Itawamba County, twenty-one miles from Jacinto.

A part of the army stopped at Baldwin, a station on the Mobile and Ohio Railroad, twelve miles west of Marietta, while the rest went further south. The wagons belonging to our battalions were at Baldwin.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 174

Diary of 2nd Sergeant Richard R. Hancock: Friday, June 6, 1862

McKnight's Company went on a scout toward Bay Spring. They brought no news of interest.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 174

Diary of 2nd Sergeant Richard R. Hancock: Saturday, June 7, 1862

The battalion fell back almost three miles from Marietta.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 174

Diary of 2nd Sergeant Richard R. Hancock: Sunday, June 8, 1862

After a march of about seventeen miles on the Fulton road, we camped within a few hundred yards of the Tombigbee River, near where Colonel Bennett's Battalion was camped.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 174

Diary of 2nd Sergeant Richard R. Hancock: Monday, June 9, 1862

We moved about two hundred yards and encamped on the bank of the Tombigbee. Our wagons were brought out to us, loaded with corn, provisions and cooking vessels. Our tents were left at the railroad. Our wagons had not been with us, except two nights at Booneville, since they left us at Jacinto (May 5th).

Fulton, the county seat of Itawamba County, was about one mile from our camp, on the east side of the TombigbeÄ™, and about twenty-one miles from Marietta.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, pp. 174-5

Sunday, April 19, 2026

Diary of George Templeton Strong, Saturday, June 16, 1860

From early morning (or at least from the earliest hour of which I am personally-cognizant) the town was all agog about the Japanese ambassadors. Streets were already swarming as I went downtown. Hardly an omnibus but was filled full. Every other person, at least, was manifestly a rustic or a stranger. Flags everywhere. Small detachments of our valiant militia marching, grim and sweaty, to their respective positions. Dragoons, hussars, and lancers, by twos and threes, trotting about with looks of intense uneasiness. The whole aspect of things indicated some great event at hand.

I left Wall Street at about two-thirty, intending merely to walk uptown and observe the humors of the dense crowd that lined both sides of Broadway, for I was so sick of talk about the Japanese that I vowed that I would not see them. But I met young Dudley Field, who kindly insisted on my taking advantage of certain eligible windows in his office on Broadway. There I found his sister, Miss Jenny, Miss Laura Belden, Judge Sutherland and Judge Leonard, Gerard, and one or two more, with strawberries and ice cream, and so forth, and saw all the show to great advantage.

Quite an imposing turnout of horse, foot, and artillery. Ditto of aldermen in barouches and yellow kids, trying to look like gentlemen. The first-chop Japanese sat in their carriage like bronze statues, aristocratically calm and indifferent. The subordinates grinned, and wagged their ugly heads, and waved their fans to the ladies in the windows. Every window in Broadway was full of them. The most striking object was the crowd that closed in and followed the procession. Broadway was densely filled, sidewalks and trottoir both, for many blocks, and mostly with roughs. Bat the police kept good order. I made my way uptown through side streets with difficulty, for they were thronged with currents of sightseers flowing off from the great central canal, and of loafers, slinging along with the characteristic loaferine trot to get ahead of the procession and have another look at the Japs. . . .

Two old fools, Samuel Neill and Tom Bryan, have been making themselves ridiculous by going to North Carolina in this weather and fighting a duel. The former, they say, has a bullet hole through the arm. They got into a squabble “late at e’en, drinking the wine” at the Union Club, over the weighty question of Garibaldi’s nationality. One said he was a Scotchman, and the other said he wasn’t, and they punched each other’s heads without being able to settle it that way. Garibaldi, by-the-by, holds his own. Success to him, filibuster as he is. There are limits even to conservatism.

Professor Dwight has been heard at length in our Law School appeal by the Court of Appeals, which held a special evening session for that purpose. Judge Denio and O’Conor and others say it was a very able argument. . . .

Was at the Savings Bank Thursday afternoon, taking Hamilton Fish’s place as attending trustee. His daughter. Miss Sarah, has just married one Sidney Webster, and the Governor had to do the honors of the wedding reception.

There is talk of the Democrats nominating Judge Nelson. I’d gladly vote for him, especially so against “Abe,” whose friends seem to rest his claims to high office chiefly on the fact that he split rails when he was a boy. I am tired of this shameless clap-trap. The log-cabin hard-cider craze of 1840 seemed spontaneous. This hurrah about rails and railsplitters seems a deliberate attempt to manufacture the same kind of furor by appealing to the shallowest prejudices of the lowest class. It ought to fail, and I hope it may; but unless the Democrats put up a strong man, it will succeed.

SOURCE: Allan Nevins and Milton Halset Thomas, Editors, Diary of George Templeton Strong, Vol. 3, pp. 32-3

Diary of George Templeton Strong, June 20, 1860

Attended the British Consul this morning, closing a commission to take testimony for the Court of Sessions.12 Talked with him about the proposed visit of the Prince of Wales. Archibald seems to have been called on by his government to advise whether the Prince, if he come here, shall accept the invitation of the city government or decline it and travel through the country incognito. He wanted to know what I thought about it, and I decidedly recommended that this royal imp should visit us as an English gentleman or nobleman, and accept no public hospitalities, for the tender mercies of the Common Council are cruel. But Mr. Archibald thinks otherwise, and he may be right. A frank acceptance by the Prince of any civility paid him by our public functionaries, such as they are, would flatter the public vanity and bring us closer to England. . . . Crowd at the Metropolitan Hotel all day, except at intervals when dispersed by a shower. People stand and stare at the windows for a vision of some ugly Mongol mug protruded for a moment and then withdrawn.

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12 E. M. Archibald had been the able British consul since 1857.

SOURCE: Allan Nevins and Milton Halset Thomas, Editors, Diary of George Templeton Strong, Vol. 3, p. 34

Diary of George Templeton Strong, June 21, 1860

This evening with Mr. Ruggles to Dr. Gilman’s, Thirteenth Street, to meet sundry of the professors of our Medical College and consider whether any kind of scientific post-graduate course can be evolved out of nothing by concerted action between Columbia College and this, its new ally. President King and Torrey were there, and the Medical College was represented by Gilman, Parker, Delafield, Clark, Dalton, and other medicine men, generally of high caste. We talked the matter over and agreed to meet again a fortnight hence. Something may come of it, but my expectations are moderate. The Medical College building, at the comer of Twenty-third and Fourth Avenue, is convenient and accessible, but we want men of larger calibre than Joy, McCulloh, Dr. Delafield, and Dr. Parker. . .13

The Democratic Baltimore Convention is still sitting, and none the easier for sitting. The great old Democratic Party is in articulo mortis; its convention is abolishing of itself, and just on the eve of suicide by dismemberment and disintegration, after the manner of certain star-fishes (vide Gosse). If Douglas be nominated, a Southern limb drops off. If any other man is nominated, a Northwestern ray or arm secedes. Southern swashbucklers demand an ultra-nigger platform that would cost the party every Northern state; unless it be adopted, they will depart to put on their war paint and—whet their scalping knives. The worst temper prevails; delegates punch each other and produce revolvers. In short, a wasps’ nest divided against itself is a pastoral symphony compared to this Witenagemot. Its session has abounded thus far in scandalous, shameful brutalities and indecencies that disgrace the whole country and illustrate the terrible pace at which we seem traveling down hill toward sheer barbarism and savagery.

The Convention has made little progress yet—has not even succeeded in defining its own identity. Its throes and gripings have thus far been on the question whether certain chivalric delegations that seceded at Charleston shall be received back digested and assimilated, or rejected as foreign matter. The New York delegation seems to hold the balance of power. After Douglas, Dickinson and Horatio Seymour are talked of; I could vote for the latter. There is a Nelson movement, too, silent as yet, but growing.14 But the elements of the Convention are in unstable combination, and it is likely to decompose with an explosion like chloride of nitrogen, or disintegrate like a Prince Rupert’s drop, on the slightest provocation before it nominates anybody. And, if one half of its bullies and blackguards and Southern gentlemen will make free use of their revolvers on the other half, during the general reaction and melee that is like to accompany the act of decomposition, and will then get themselves decently hanged for homicide, the country will be safe; and millions yet unborn will bless the day when the Baltimore Convention of 1860 exploded and the Democratic Party ceased to exist.

If there were a real ruler now to march into this congregation of politic knaves and hang a dozen of the worst cases, with their bowie knives round their necks, and set the rest to hard labor on public works for a term of years!!! What a subject he would be for a biography by Carlyle! But there is no such luck. Whatever may be the result of this Convention, the Democracy has disgraced itself and damaged itself beyond cure. I half expect that Republicanism and Abe Lincoln will sweep every vestige of that party out of existence.
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13 Willard Parker (1800-1884), for whom the Willard Parker Hospital for Infectious Diseases in New York is named, had studied in Europe and held chairs of anatomy and surgery in several medical schools in this country before he joined the faculty of the College of Physicians and Surgeons as professor of principles and practice of surgery (1839-1870). Edward Delafield (1794—1875), ophthalmologist and surgeon, founded the New York Eye and Ear Infirmary in 1818. He occupied the chair of obstetrics and diseases of women in the College of Physicians and Surgeons from 1825 to 1838, and was president of the College from 1858 to 1875. Alonzo Clark (1807-1887) held the chair of physiology and pathology in the College of Physicians and Surgeons from 1848 to 1855, when he became professor of pathology and practical medicine in the same school. John Call Dalton (1825—1889) was the first physician in America to devote himself exclusively to experimental physiology and related sciences. His studies with Claude Bernard in Paris turned his ambition from practice to teaching, and he introduced the experimental method in teaching of physiology, thus opening a new era in medical education. He occupied the chair of physiology in the College of Physicians and Surgeons 1855-1883, and served as president 1884-1889.

14 Strong’s unwillingness to vote for the politician Daniel S. Dickinson (1800-1866) is understandable. The movement for Justice Samuel Nelson of the Supreme Court (1792-1873) developed no strength.

SOURCE: Allan Nevins and Milton Halset Thomas, Editors, Diary of George Templeton Strong, Vol. 3, pp. 34-6

Diary of George Templeton Strong, June 23, 1860

Mr. Ruggles came in this evening and reports that the rump of the Convention has nominated Douglas. Afterwards came Walter Cutting, very kindly offering me tickets for the grand ball Monday night in honor of the Japanese embassy. Tickets are in great demand and hardly to be got by any one who has not an uncle or a confederate in the City Councils. It will be a showy and lavish entertainment, but neither Ellie nor I care to assist. Have encountered attaches of the embassy twice, looking over books and buying largely at Appleton's new store. They seem intelligent and observant, talk in soft oriental whispers, and contrive to make themselves understood by Kernot and Allen and the other salesmen. Books on the industrial arts, geographies, atlases, and high-colored lithograph illustrations interest them especially. They buy largely, also, of children’s books, and say "new language—child’s book— very good.’’

SOURCE: Allan Nevins and Milton Halset Thomas, Editors, Diary of George Templeton Strong, Vol. 3, p. 36

Diary of George Templeton Strong, July 4, 1860

“The day was ushered in," as the newspapers say, with the usual racket, which has not yet abated. I lounged downtown after breakfast, and made an expedition to Jersey City; partly for want of something to do, and partly to give Miss Rosalie Ruggles the latest news from Barrington. A sweltering hot day it has been, as I found out on my walk home after lunching at Delmonico’s.

After dinner, I strolled out again and found my way to the North River, in the region of Bank Street, where the Great Eastern lies.15 She loomed up colossal in the twilight. It was too late to ask for admission (price, one dollar). So I walked home again. Looked in at the “Palace Garden” in Fourteenth Street and “looked” out again very speedily. It was hotter than the hot street and presented no attractions but colored lamps, a dismal orchestra, and an occasional skyrocket.
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15 The Great Eastern, a British liner designed by Russell Scott weighing almost 19,000 deadweight tons, the leviathan of her day, had reached New York, June 28, to find the shores black with throngs excited over her arrival. In the first five days 143,764 people paid to visit her.

SOURCE: Allan Nevins and Milton Halset Thomas, Editors, Diary of George Templeton Strong, Vol. 3, p. 37

Diary of Adam Gurowski, November 1861

THE season is excellent for military operations, such as any Napoleon could wish it. And we, lying not on our oars or arms, but in our beds, as our spes patriæ is warmly and cosily established in a large house, receiving there the incense and salutations of all flunkeys. Even cabinet ministers crowd McClellan's antechambers!

The massacre at Ball's Bluff is the work either of treason, or of stupidity, or of cowardice, or most probably of all three united.

No European government and no European nation would thus coolly bear it. Any commander culpable of such stupidity would be forever disgraced, and dismissed from the army. Here the administration, the Cabinet, and all the Scotts, the McClellans, the Thomases, etc., strain their brains and muscles to whitewash themselves or the culprit—to represent this massacre as something very innocent.

Victoria! Victoria! Old Scott, Old Mischief, gone overboard! So vanished one of the two evil genii keeping guard over Mr. Lincoln's brains. But it will not be so easy to redress the evil done by Scott. He nailed the country's cause to such a turnpike that any of his successors will perhaps be unable to undo what Old Mischief has done. Scott might have had certain, even eminent, military capacity; but, all things considered, he had it only on a small scale. Scott never had in his hand large numbers, and hundreds of European generals of divisions would do the same that Scott did, even in Mexico. Any one in Europe, who in some way or other participated in the events of the last forty years, has had occasion to see or participate in one single day in more and better fighting, to hear more firing, and smell more powder, than has General Scott in his whole life.

Scott's fatal influence palsied, stiffened, and poisoned every noble or higher impulse, and every aspiration of the people. Scott diligently sowed the first seeds of antagonism between volunteers and regulars, and diligently nursed them. Around his person in the War Department, and in the army, General Scott kept and maintained officers, who, already before the inauguration, declared, and daily asserted, that if it comes to a war, few officers of the army will unite with the North and remain loyal to the Union.

He never forgot to be a Virginian, and was filled with all a Virginian's conceit. To the last hour he warded off blows aimed at Virginia. To this hour he never believed in a serious war, and now requiescat in pace until the curse of coming generations.

McClellan is invested with all the powers of Scott. McClellan has more on his shoulders than any man—a Napoleon not excepted—can stand; and with his very limited capacity McClellan must necessarily break under it. Now McClellan will be still more idolized. He is already a kind of dictator, as Lincoln, Seward, etc., turn around him.

In a conversation with Cameron, I warned him against bestowing such powers on McClellan. "What shall we do?" was Cameron's answer; "neither the President nor I know anything about military affairs." Well, it is true; but McClellan is scarcely an apprentice.

Again the intermittent fear, or fever, of foreign intervention. How absurd! Americans belittle themselves talking and thinking about it. The European powers will not, and cannot. That is my creed and my answer; but some of our agents, diplomats, and statesmen, try to made capital for themselves from this fever which they evoke to establish before the public that their skill preserves the country from foreign intervention. Bosh!

All the good and useful produced in the life and in the economy of nations, all the just and the right in their institutions, all the ups and downs, misfortunes and disasters befalling them, all this was, is, and forever will be the result of logical deductions from pre-existing dates and facts. And here almost everybody forgets the yesterday.

A revolution imposes obligations. A revolution makes imperative the development and the practical application of those social principles which are its basis.

The American Revolution of 1776 proclaimed self-government, equality before all, happiness of all, etc.; it is therefore the peremptory duty of the American people to uproot domestic oligarchy, based upon living on the labor of an enslaved man; it has to put a stop to the moral, intellectual, and physical servitude of both, of whites and of colored.

Eminent men in America are taunted with the ambition to reach the White House. In itself it is not condemnable; it is a noble or an ignoble ambition, according to the ways and means used to reach that aim. It is great and stirring to see one's name recorded in the list of Presidents of the United States; but there is still a record far shorter, but by far more to be envied—a record venerated by our race—it is the record of truly great men. The actually inscribed runners for the White House do not think of this.

No one around me here seems to understand (and no one is familiar enough with general history) that protracted wars consolidate a nationality. Every day of Southern existence shapes it out more and more into a nation, with all the necessary moral and material conditions of existence.

Seeing these repeated reviews, I cannot get rid of the idea that by such shows and displays McClellan tries to frighten the rebels in the Chinaman fashion. The collateral missions to England, France, and Spain, are to add force to our cause before the public opinion as well as before the rulers. But what a curious choice of men! It would be called even an unhappy one. Thurlow Weed, with his offhand, apparently sincere, if not polished ways, may not be too repulsive to English refinement, provided he does not buttonhole his interlocutionists, or does not pat them on the shoulder. So Thurlow Weed will be dined, wined, etc. But doubtless the London press will show him up, or some "Secesh" in London will do it. I am sure that Lord Lyons, as it is his paramount duty, has sent to Earl Russell a full and detailed biography of this Seward's alter ego, sent ad latus to Mr. Adams. Thurlow Weed will be considered an agreeable fellow; but he never can acquire much weight and consideration, neither with the statesmen, nor with the members of the government, nor in saloons, nor with the public at large.

Edward Everett begged to be excused from such a false position offered to him in London. Not fish, not flesh. It was rather an offence to proffer it to Everett. The old patriot better knows Europe, its cabinets, and exigencies, than those who attempted to intricate him in this ludicrous position. He is right, and he will do more good here than he could do in London—there on a level with Thurlow Weed!

Archbishop Hughes is to influence Paris and France,—but whom? The public opinion, which is on our side, is anti-Roman, and Hughes is an Ultra Montane—an opinion not over friendly to Louis Napoleon. The French clergy in every way, in culture, wisdom, instruction, theology, manners, deportment, etc., is superior to Hughes in incalculable proportions, and the French clergy are already generally anti-slavery. Hughes to act on Louis Napoleon! Why! the French Emperor can outwit a legion of Hugheses, and do this without the slightest effort. Besides, for more than a century European sovereigns, governments, and cabinets, have generally given up the use of bishops, etc., for political, public, or confidential missions. Mr. Seward stirs up old dust. All the liberal party in Europe or France will look astonished, if not worse, at this absurdity.

All things considered, it looks like one of Seward's personal tricks, and Seward outwitted Chase, took him in by proffering a similar mission to Chase's friend, Bishop McIlvaine. But I pity Dayton. He is a high-toned man, and the mission of Hughes is a humiliation to Dayton.

Whatever may be the objects of these missions, they look like petty expedients, unworthy a minister of a great government.

Mason and Slidell caught. England will roar, but here the people are satisfied. Some of the diplomats make curious faces. Lord Lyons behaves with dignity. The small Bremen flatter right and left, and do it like little lap-dogs.

Governor Andrew of Massachusetts, ex-Governor Boutwell, are tip-top men—men of the people. The Blairs are too heinous, too violent, in their persecution of Fremont. Warned M. Blair not to protect one whom Fremont deservedly expelled. But M. Blair, in his spite against Fremont, took a mean adventurer by the hand, and entangled therein the President.

The vessel and the crew are excellent, and would easily obey the hand of a helmsman, but there is the rub, where to find him? Lincoln is a simple man of the prairie, and his eyes penetrate not the fog, the tempest. They do not perceive the signs of the times - cannot embrace the horizon of the nation. And thus his small intellectual insight is dimmed by those around him. Lincoln begins now already to believe that he is infallible; that he is ahead of the people, and frets that the people may remain behind. Oh simplicity or conceit!

Again, Lincoln is frightened with the success in South Carolina, as in his opinion this success will complicate the question of slavery. He is frightened as to what he shall do with Charleston and Augusta, provided these cities are taken.

It is disgusting to hear with what superciliousness the different members of the Cabinet speak of the approaching Congress—and not one of them is in any way the superior of many congressmen.

When Congress meets, the true national balance account will be struck. The commercial and piratical flag of the secesh is virtually in all waters and ports. (The little cheese-eater, the Hollander, was the first to raise a fuss against the United States concerning the piratical flag. This is not to be forgotten.) 2d. Prestige, to a great extent, lost. 3d. Millions upon millions wasted. Washington besieged and blockaded, and more than 200,000 men kept in check by an enemy not by half as strong. 4th. Every initiative which our diplomacy tried abroad was wholly unsuccessful, and we are obliged to submit to new international principles inaugurated at our cost; and, summing up, instead of a broad, decided, general policy, we have vacillation, inaction, tricks, and expedients. The people fret, and so will the Congress. Nations are as individuals; any partial disturbance in a part of the body occasions a general chill. Nature makes efforts to check the beginning of disease, and so do nations. In the human organism nature does not submit willingly to the loss of health, or of a limb, or of life. Nature struggles against death. So the people of the Union will not submit to an amputation, and is uneasy to see how unskilfully its own family doctors treat the national disease.

Port Royal, South Carolina, taken. Great and general rejoicing. It is a brilliant feat of arms, but a questionable military and war policy. Those attacks on the circumference, or on extremities, never can become a death-blow to secesh. The rebels must be crushed in the focus; they ought to receive a blow at the heart. This new strategy seems to indicate that McClellan has not heart enough to attack the fastnesses of rebeldom, but expects that something may turn up from these small expeditions. He expects to weaken the rebels in their focus. I wish McClellan may be right in his expectations, but I doubt it.

Officers of McClellan's staff tell that Mr. Lincoln almost daily comes into McClellan's library, and sits there rather unnoticed. On several occasions McClellan let the President wait in the room, together with other common mortals.

The English statesmen and the English press have the notion deeply rooted in their brains that the American people fight for empire. The rebels do it, but not the free men.

Mr. Seward's emphatical prohibition to Mr. Adams to mention the question of slavery may have contributed to strengthen in England the above-mentioned fallacy. This is a blunder, which before long or short Seward will repent. It looks like astuteness—ruse; but if so, it is the resource of a rather limited mind. In great and minor affairs, straightforwardness is the best policy. Loyalty always gets the better of astuteness, and the more so when the opponent is unprepared to meet it. Tricks can be well met by tricks, but tricks are impotent against truth and sincerity. But Mr. Seward, unhappily, has spent his life in various political tricks, and was surrounded by men whose intimacy must have necessarily lowered and unhealthily affected him. All his most intimates are unintellectual mediocrities or tricksters.

Seward is free from that infamous know-nothingism of which this Gen. Thomas is the great master (a man every few weeks accused of treason by the public opinion, and undoubtedly vibrating between loyalty here and sympathy with rebels).

All this must have unavoidably vitiated Mr. Seward's better nature. In such way only can I see plainly why so many excellent qualities are marred in him. He at times can broadly comprehend things around him; he is good-natured when not stung, and he is devoted to his men.

As a patriot, he is American to the core—were only his domestic policy straight-forward and decided, and would he only stop meddling with the plans of the campaign, and let the War Department alone.

Since every part of his initiative with European cabinets failed, Seward very skilfully dispatches all the minor affairs with Europe—affairs generated by various maritime and international complications. Were his domestic policy as correct as is now his foreign policy, Seward would be the right man.

Statesmanship emerges from the collision of great principles with important interests. In the great Revolution, the thus called fathers of the nation were the offsprings of the exigencies of the time, and they were fully up to their task. They were vigorous and fresh; their intellect was not obstructed by any political routine, or by tricky political praxis. Such men are now needed at the helm to carry this noble people throughout the most terrible tempest. So in these days one hears so much about constitutional formulas as safeguards of liberty. True liberty is not to be virtually secured by any framework of rules and limitations, devisable only by statecraft. The perennial existence of liberty depends not on the action of any definite and ascertainable machinery, but on continual accessions of fresh and vital influences. But perhaps such influences are among the noblest, and therefore among the rarest, attributes of man.

Abroad and here, traitors and some pedants on formulas make a noise concerning the violation of formulas. Of course it were better if such violations had been left undone. But all this is transient, and evoked by the direst necessity. The Constitution was made for a healthy, normal condition of the nation; the present condition is abnormal. Regular functions are suspended. When the human body is ruined or devoured by a violent disease, often very tonic remedies are used—remedies which would destroy the organism if administered when in a healthy, normal condition. A strong organism recovers from disease, and from its treatment. Human societies and institutions pass through a similar ordeal, and when they are unhinged, extraordinary and abnormal ways are required to maintain the endangered society and restore its equipoise.

Examining day after day the map of Virginia, it strikes one that a movement with half of the army could be made down from Mount Vernon by the two turnpike roads, and by water to Occoquan, and from there to Brentsville. The country there seems to be flat, and not much wooded. Manassas would be taken in the rear, and surrounded, provided the other half of the army would push on by the direct way from here to Manassas, and seriously attack the enemy, who thus would be broken, could not escape. This, or any plan, the map of Virginia ought to suggest to the staff of McClellan, were it a staff in the true meaning. Dybitsch and Toll, young colonels in the staff of Alexander I., 1813-'14, originated the march on Paris, so destructive to Napoleon. History bristles with evidences how with staffs originated many plans of battles and of campaigns; history explains the paramount influence of staffs on the conduct of a war. Of course Napoleon wanted not a suggestive, but only an executive staff; but McClellan is not a Napoleon, and has neither a suggestive nor an executive staff around him. A Marcy to suggest a plan of a campaign or of a battle, to watch over its execution!

I spoke to McDowell about the positions of Occoquan and Brentsville. He answered that perhaps something similar will be under consideration, and that McClellan must show his mettle and capacity. I pity McDowell's confidence.

Besides, the American army as it was and is educated, nursed, brought up by Gen. Scott, —the army has no idea what are the various and complicated duties of a staff. No school of staff at West Point; therefore the difficulty to find now genuine officers of the staff. If McClellan ever moves this army, then the defectiveness of his staff may occasion losses and even disasters. It will be worse with his staff than it was at Jena with the Prussian staff, who were as conceited as the small West Point clique here in Washington.

West Point instructs well in special branches, but does not necessarily form generals and captains. The great American Revolution was fought and made victorious by men not from any military schools, and to whom were opposed commanders with as much military science as there was possessed and current in Europe. Jackson, Taylor, and even Scott, are not from the school.

I do not wish to judge or disparage the pupils from West Point, but I am disgusted with the supercilious and ridiculous behavior of the clique here, ready to form prætorians or anything else, and poisoning around them the public opinion. Western generals are West Point pupils, but I do not hear them make so much fuss, and so contemptuously look down on the volunteers. These Western generals pine not after regulars, but make use of such elements as they have under hand. The best and most patriotic generals and officers here, educated at West Point, are numerous. Unhappily a clique, composed of a few fools and fops, overshadows the others.

McClellan's speciality is engineering. It is a speciality which does not form captains and generals for the field,— at least such instances are very rare. Of all Napoleon's marshals and eminent commanders, Berthier alone was educated as engineer, and his speciality and high capacity was that of a chief of the staff. Marescott or Todleben would never claim to be captains. The intellectual powers of an engineer are modeled, drilled, turned towards the defensive,—the engineer's brains concentrate upon selecting defensive positions, and combine how to strengthen them by art. So an engineer is rather disabled from embracing a whole battle-field, with its endless casualties and space. Engineers are the incarnation of a defensive warfare; all others, as artillerists, infantry, and cavalry, are for dashing into the unknown—into the space; and thus these specialities virtually represent the offensive warfare.

When will they begin to see through McClellan, and find out that he is not the man? Perhaps too late, and then the nation will sorely feel it.

Mr. Seward almost idolizes McClellan. Poor homage that; but it does mischief by reason of its influence on the public opinion.

SOURCE: Adam Gurowski, Diary from March 4, 1861, to November 12, 1862, pp. 115-28

Saturday, April 18, 2026

2nd Lieutenant William T. Sherman to John Sherman, March 30, 1841

FORT PIERCE, F., March 30, 1841.
My Dear Brother:

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The peninsula of Florida is of the latest geological formation, one mass of sand, with few rocks of the softest consistency, and, were it not for its delightful climate, would be as barren as the deserts of Africa. It is cut up by innumerable rivers, streams, and rivulets, which, watering the soil, nourish a rank growth of weeds and grass, which, continually decomposing, gives a rich soil, and gives rise in time to a heavy growth of live oak, palmetto, and scrub of every kind. These are the dreaded hummocks, the stronghold of the Indians, where he builds his hut, and has pumpkin and corn fields. The stream furnishes him with abundance of fish and alligators, the palmetto its cabbage. The thick growth conceals his little fire and hut, secures his escape, enables him to creep within a few yards of the deer or turkey feeding on the border, and drive his copper-headed, barbed arrow through the vital part. In a word, the deep streams, bordered by the dense hummock, have enabled the Indians thus far to elude the pursuit of our army.

The remainder of the country is so very level that water will not flow off, but collects in ponds until absorbed by the sand or evaporated. These ponds are met at every few yards, sometimes miles in extent and but few inches in depth, at other places narrow and boggy. All else is pine barren, and of course monotonous.

As to the history of the war,—the same as all our Indian wars. A treaty for the removal is formed by a few who represent themselves as the whole; the time comes, and none present themselves. The Government orders force to be used; the troops in the territory commence, but are so few that they all get massacred. The cowardly inhabitants, instead of rallying, desert their homes and sound the alarm-call for assistance. An army supposed to be strong enough is sent, seeks and encounters the enemy at a place selected by the latter, gets a few hundred killed. The Indians retreat, scatter, and are safe. This may be repeated ad infinitum. The best officer is selected to direct the affairs of the army, comes to Florida, exposes himself, does all he can, gets abused by all, more than likely breaks down his constitution, and is glad enough to get out of the scrape. Treaties, truces, and armistices have been and are still being tried, with what success is notorious. The present mode of conducting things is to dispose the troops at fixed points, and require them to scout and scour the country in their vicinity,—about as good a plan as could be adopted, and one which would terminate the war if small columns of a hundred or a hundred and fifty men were to make excursions into the interior. We have from this post thoroughly expelled the Indians from this section of the territory, and have had the good luck to kill some and capture others, besides destroying and capturing boats, canoes, etc. The same has been done below and throughout that district where war prevails.

In the west, there is peace. General A—— is buying them up, and, what is to be wondered at, has learned wisdom by experience. You doubtless know that he was most egregiously hoaxed last fall by them, but now he places all who come in under a strong guard, so they can't get off this time. Some flatter themselves that there is hope of the war's ending this summer, but I think there is no probability, as they have burnt their fields and hunting-grounds to the west and northwest of us, and Sam Jones and Coacoocher are still out, and have not the least notion of coming in whilst they are so strong. We have just returned from a very pleasant scout, having been eight days out, examining several streams that empty south of us, without, however, accomplishing anything or seeing any sights except those left by a hunting party some ten or twelve days previous. We went to Jupiter, famous for the grab by General Jesup; from this place we went out to the battle-ground on the Locha Hatchee, where the Indians made a stand against General Jesup in 1838. It was a dense hummock on the stream called Locha Hatchee, where the army was to pass on the way to Jupiter. The trees were riddled with balls, and several of our men, who had been at the battle, pointed out the trees behind which Captain Such-a-one and Lieutenant Such, etc., etc., stood; the limb over which our men crossed to get at the enemy; how the general got his spectacles smashed by a ball, etc., etc.; how the volunteer militia, as usual, were seized with a panic, gathered together like sheep, presenting a sure target for the Indians, which of course was not allowed to pass unheeded.

Your affectionate brother,
W. T. SHERMAN.

SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 13-5

2nd Lieutenant William T. Sherman to John Sherman, January 16, [1841]

[Fort Pierce, Florida, January 16th 1841.]

Upon all scouts or expeditions of danger, all the officers insist upon going, but as it is necessary that at least one should stay at the fort, this is done by rotation, and upon the expedition to the Hanlover, ninety miles distant, it fell to my share to remain. On the 4th instant the boats, seven in all, with four officers and forty-three men, left the fort, intending to travel by night and lay by by day; but not having a guide, and their map being incorrect, they could not find the way, so on the third day out they concluded it was best to hurry on by day, reach the point where they expected to find Indians, and lie concealed; but on the fourth morning they espied a little canoe in a cove, went ashore, found a trail, followed it, and soon came to a cluster of board and palmetto huts, which they rushed upon, but only found a negro family, —— man, wife, and two children, as also an old squaw and papoose. They secured these, and learned that a party of Indians living at this place, and another which our party had previously destroyed, had gone up to the Hanlover or to the big swamp for oranges and ——. The negro said he and his wife had been stolen four years previous, and had been with them ever since. He seemed quite rejoiced at his recapture and offered to act as guide. He was handcuffed, and a noose fixed about his neck as a gentle hint, then told to go on. On the 5th (Saturday) they reached the Hanlover, encamped at the Hanlover, and had the pleasure to receive the visit of a horse at daylight the next morning. They followed his track back for about a quarter of a mile, and came upon a temporary camp of the Indians. The dogs gave the alarm; they all rushed in, when you may well suppose there was a little scattering. Nearly all took to their canoes or the water, where, of course, they were pursued, and after half an hour's popping away and pursuing, they collected together, and found that they had killed two warriors, a woman, and a child; had captured three warriors, eight women, and fifteen children, two tolerably good boats, any quantity of canoes, pots and kettles, etc., corn, pumpkins, and dried fish, and bows and arrows, rifles, bullet-bags, leggins, moccasins, etc.; all this, too, on Sunday. Having destroyed everything that could not be carried with ease, shot the horse, and secured the prisoners, they took to their boats and crossed the lagoon to the other side, from whence the next morning two of the officers and twenty men were sent over to the St. John's, to a place where, the negro said, a couple of families lived. They found it as he had said, but the dogs gave the alarm before they could be surrounded; but in escaping one warrior was shot, and two squaws and their two children, one warrior alone effecting his escape. Here they found two elegant canoes, one of mahogany large enough to carry twenty men, but were destroyed, not being able to bring them away. The houses were burnt, with all the corn, pumpkins, and household stuff. Thus, having captured all they could find in this quarter, and their provisions becoming scanty, they commenced their return, and reached this post after having been out ten days, exposed to some terrible showers, with hard rowing and little to eat, but were in good spirits from their success. They brought with them six boats and thirty-four prisoners. They are encamped here under charge of the guard until they can be sent to Augustine. I wish you could see the group in its savage state; although many have lost their husbands and fathers and wives and children, yet they show no grief. Several are very badly wounded; one little girl, with a ball through the back and coming out in the cheek, scarce utters a murmur; another woman, a buckshot through and through, bears it with the fortitude of a veteran soldier; there are several other wounds, given accidentally, of course, in the pell-mell of the fight and in the pursuit of the canoes.

I, of course, regretted very much not having been along, but consoled myself with the idea that I'll have a chance yet. In fact, I was on a scout some time ago, when we ran a large boat and canoe ashore, captured the boats, but the Indians escaped. To-night I start with fifteen men in three boats, my principal object being to capture an Indian for guide up the St. Lucie's River; expect to be gone five days. The boat has just arrived from the bar; it is the schooner Frances from Havana, bound to Augustine, so it will answer my purpose of sending this, though hurried.

I presume you have heard how Colonel Harney had been in the Everglades capturing eleven warriors, ten of whom he hung, and twenty-eight women and children. This boat brings the news that, seeing fires on the beach, about ten miles this side of Key Biscayne, ran in and fired a gun, which was answered from shore, and presently a small canoe came out, hailed, and four soldiers in them taken aboard. They were four of Colonel Harney's men, who said that it was Colonel Harney's camp; that they had gone on the 1st instant, with two hundred men, soldiers, and marines, in boats, with a guide, to Sam Jones' camp. They had found Sam much stronger in numbers than they had expected, and admirably posted, so that he could not have attacked him without receiving at least three deliberate shots from about one hundred warriors, so the Colonel decided to return for an accession to his force. He doubtless took a prudent course, though I think he should have attacked Sam. The secret of the matter is, I think, he felt no confidence in the marines and sailors, for he is no coward. He had, however, attacked a small party, capturing six and killing six.

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Your affectionate brother,
W. T. SHERMAN.

SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 16-9

2nd Lieutenant William T. Sherman to John Sherman, July 14, 1841

FORT PIERCE, F., July 14, 1841.
My Dear Brother:

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There is considerable talk up at St. Augustine that our regiment is going north in the fall, but I won't believe any such thing until the order comes; in fact, I want to stay till next spring, for I really believe that there is a shadow of hope of terminating this war in the coming winter, provided always no "treaties, truces, or talks."

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Your affectionate brother,
W. T. SHERMAN.

SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, p. 19

2nd Lieutenant William T. Sherman to John Sherman, October 11, 1841

FORT PIERCE, F., Oct. 11, 1841.
My Dear Brother:

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As to matters and things in Florida, they are as they have always been,—Indians plenty always coming, but none come, whilst the officer commanding flatters himself the war is just on the point of ending.

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A short time ago a ship went ashore about sixty miles south of this, from New Orleans bound to Cowes, with a cargo of tobacco and Dutchmen (two hundred and odd). The latter went ashore, taking a tent and some beef and pork; but fortunately the steamboat that runs on the coast found them, and advised them to go aboard this vessel whilst she went in search of some wreckers (a species of pirates, who, for a high per cent, save portions of cargo and sometimes ship), who returned to her and luckily got her off the beach, it being calm; but it seems that whilst the steamboat was gone, some Indians came down on the beach and stole the things they had put ashore. As soon as we learned this, Major Childs, who commands here, immediately fitted out an expedition to look into matters and things down in that section. An old Spaniard we have here informed us that in rear of where the vessel had gone ashore there was a fine lake, and in all likelihood the Indians lived on it. As the object was to get on this lake in small open boats, this we effected by going an inland passage for forty miles, then hauled our boats over a narrow strip of land into the sea, launched our boats, and, going about ten miles further, landed, and hauled our boats again into the unexplored lake. We were here six days, searching the islands and bays, and though we found evidences of a great number of Indians and canoes, we were able to discover but two fellows, who escaped us. We got, however, plenty of roasting ears, sweet potatoes, sugarcane, and other Indian things. A great many fields, amounting in all to upwards of thirty acres, in very fine cultivation indeed, having, beside what I've already mentioned, beans, pumpkins, tobacco, and rice. So you see that Indians know, beside the use of their legs and the rifle, that of the hoe. But a few days ago a vessel belonging to the Government, and loaded with supplies for this post, ran ashore about thirty miles north of us. I was sent up with thirty men, and though I was unable to save the vessel, I succeeded in bringing off about $1000 worth of provisions and property.

Your affectionate brother,
W. T. SHERMAN.

SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 19-21

1st Lieutenant William T. Sherman to John Sherman, February 15, 1842

PICOLATTO, F., Feb. 15, 1842.
My Dear Brother:

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You doubtless saw my promotion announced in "Orders." I have been exceedingly fortunate, attaining a rank which generally requires five or eight years' service in the short period of seventeen months. This promotion separated me from the company to which I formerly belonged and from a garrison of officers to whom I had become much attached, yet I was of course rejoiced at being promoted to this company, which guards the road between St. Augustine and this place,—the road upon which so very many murders have been committed during the war. I command here a guard, have fine quarters, constant communication with the world, and although very little society, and no officers with me, I can mount my horse, and in a couple of hours can have both in the ancient city of St. Augustine, only eighteen miles distant. St. Augustine, you know, is the oldest town in the United States, nor does its appearance belie its age,—narrow, winding streets, close-built houses with the balconies meeting overhead, denoting its Spanish population. There are some few old English families, who remained when the Floridas were ceded to Spain, and together with the few Americans whom the delightful climate has enticed, constitute the best society. The Spaniards, or rather Minorcans, are very ignorant and have no desire to travel beyond their own circle. There is an old fort, built at enormous cost by the Spanish Government; but for want of appropriation, it is fast falling to decay. . . . The inhabitants still preserve the old ceremonies and festivities of old Spain. Balls, masquerades, etc., are celebrated during the gay season of the Carnival (just over), and the most religious observance of Lent in public, whilst in private they cannot refrain from dancing and making merry. Indeed, I never saw anything like it,—dancing, dancing, and nothing but dancing, but not such as you see at the north. Such ease and grace I never before beheld. A lady will waltz all the evening without fatigue, because it is done slowly, with grace; but it is in the Spanish dance they more especially excel, enchanting all who behold or participate. This, together with the easy and cordial hospitality all extend to officers, is what has captivated so many within the past few years.

SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 21-2

Friday, April 17, 2026

Diary of 5th Sergeant Lawrence Van Alstyne, January 1, 1863

The Arago did call for our mail and the body of Lieutenant Sterling was put on board to go to his family in Poughkeepsie. We gave the old ship three cheers, and then some one sang out three cheers for the lice you gave us. John Van Hoovenburg died last night. We made a box for him out of such boards as we could find. Though we did our best, his bare feet showed through the cracks. But that made no difference to poor Johnnie. The chaplain was with him to the end, says he was happy and ready to go. This is how we spend our New Year's day. We wish each other a happy New Year though just as if we were home and had a good prospect of one. After the funeral Walter Loucks and I went up the river quite a distance, so far it seemed as if our legs would not carry us back. Negro huts are scattered along. I suppose white people cannot live here and so the darkeys have it all. Some cultivate patches of ground and in one garden we saw peas in bloom. We bought a loaf of bread and a bottle of molasses of an old woman, and though the bread was not what it might have been, it tasted good. There are some orange trees, but no oranges. The darkies say they will blossom in about a month. A man in Company E, a sort of poet, who was always writing songs for the boys to sing, was cutting wood to-day and the axe flew off the handle and cut the whole four fingers from the right hand. There were no witnesses and some there are who say he did it so as to get a discharge. The doctor has dressed the hand and he is going about in great pain just now.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 78

Thursday, April 16, 2026

Diary of 5th Sergeant Lawrence Van Alstyne, January 2, 1863

Peter Carlo, the one who went through the medical examination at Hudson with me, died last night. He was found dead this morning and appeared to have suffered terribly. His eyes and mouth were staring wide open and his face looked as if he had been tortured to death. Companies A and B keep in advance on the sick list.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 79

Diary of 5th Sergeant Lawrence Van Alstyne, January 3, 1863

Two more men died last night, but not from Company B. We sent off another mail to-day. I wish we might get some letters. We ought to have a lot of them when they do come.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 79

Diary of 5th Sergeant Lawrence Van Alstyne, Sunday, January 4, 1863

Hip, Hip, Hurrah! The Laurel Hill, a steamer, has stopped at our camp and we have orders to pack up for a move. All that are able are to be taken to Chalmette, the old battle ground below New Orleans. Anywhere but this God-forsaken spot, say I. Chaplain Parker preached hot stuff at us to-day. Says we don't take proper care of ourselves, that we eat too often and too much. That made me laugh. Dominie, if you lived with us a while, ate at the same table and had the same bill of fare to choose from, I think you would tell another story. Poor man, it is getting on his nerves sure. But it sets me to wondering if our officers all think that way. If they blame us for the condition we are in, who brought these conditions about? Did we from choice herd in between decks like pigs, while the officers, chaplain and all had staterooms and a bed and good food to eat, well cooked and at regular hours? If they blame us for our condition to-day, I can only hope that at some time they may get just such treatment and fare and that I may be there to remind them it is their own fault. Chaplain Parker must do some tall preaching to make good what he has lost by that tongue lashing. It was uncalled for and a sad mistake.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 80