90th Indiana Infantry

See 5th Regiment Cavalry.

SOURCE: Frederick H. Dyer, A Compendium of the War of the 3, p. Rebellion, Part 1151

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, August 6, 1864

August 6, 1864

I took a limited ride along our flank defences, where I discovered a patriotic sentry, sitting with his back to where the enemy might be supposed to come, and reading a novel! He belonged to the 7th Indiana. “What are your instructions?” say I. “Han't got none,” replies the peruser of novels. “Then what are you here for?” “Well, I am a kind of an alarm sentinel,” said this literary militaire. “Call the corporal of the guard,” said I, feeling much disposed to laugh. The sentry looked about a little and then singling out a friend, called out: “Oh, Jim, why, won't you just ask Jeremiah Miles to step this way?” After some delay, Jeremiah appeared. He was in a pleasing state of ignorance. Did not know the sentry's instructions, did not know who the officer of the guard was, did not know much of anything. “Well,” said I, “now suppose you go and find the sergeant of the guard.” This he did with great alacrity. The sergeant, as became his office, knew more than the corporal. He was clear that the sentry should not read a book; also that his conduct in sitting down was eccentric; but, when it came to who was the officer of the guard, his naturally fine mind broke down. He knew the officer if he saw him, but could not remember his name. This he would say, the officer was a lieutenant. “Suppose you should try to find him,” suggested I. Of course that he could do; and soon the “Loo-tenant” appeared. To him I talked like a father; almost like a grandfather, in fact; showed him the man's musket was rusty and that he was no good whatsoever. Loo-tenant had not much to say; indeed, so to speak, nothing; and I left him with a strong impression that you can't make a silk purse from a sow's ear. It is not ludicrous, but sad, to see such soldiers in this Army of the Potomac, after three years of experience. The man could not have been better: tall, strong, respectful, and docile; but no one had ever taught him. It was a clear case of waste of fine material, left in all its crudity instead of being worked up. And this is the grand characteristic of this war — waste. We waste arms, clothing, ammunition, and subsistence; but, above all, men. We don't make them go far enough, because we have no military or social caste to make officers from. Regiments that have been officered by gentlemen of education have invariably done well, like the 2d, 20th, and 24th Massachusetts, and the 1st Massachusetts Cavalry. Even the 44th and the 45th, nine-monthers, behaved with credit; though there was this drawback in them, that the privates were too familiar with the officers, having known them before. However, perfection does not exist anywhere, and we should be thankful for the manifold virtues our soldiers do pre-eminently possess. I see much to make me more contented in reading Napier, before referred to. After the taking of Badajos, the English allowed their own wounded to lie two days in the breach, without an attempt to carry them off. This is the nation that now gives us very good lectures on humanity. As to old Wellington, I suspect he was about as savage an old brute as would be easy to find.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 206-7

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, January 22, 1865

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, January 22, 1865.

There is very little going on here. We have had a violent storm of rain. Grant is still away, and I have heard nothing from Markoe Bache, so that I am ignorant of what turn affairs are taking in Washington. I received a letter yesterday from Cram, enclosing me one from a correspondent in Washington, who advises him (Cram) that he has been reliably informed that I am likely to be rejected. Still, this may be a street rumor, circulated by those who want this result.

To-day Bishop Lee, of Delaware, held service in the chapel tent at these headquarters, and gave us a very good sermon. He came here with Bishop Janeway, of the Methodist Church, and a Mr. Jones, a lawyer from Philadelphia, who were a commission asking admission into the rebel lines, to visit our poor prisoners in their hands to relieve their spiritual wants; but I believe the Confederate authorities declined.

The Richmond papers are very severe on Davis, and there is every indication of discord among them. I hope to Heaven this will incline them to peace, and that there may be some truth in the many reports in the papers that something is going on!¹

_______________

¹ General Meade left head-quarters for Philadelphia where he arrived January 28. He left Philadelphia on the 30th.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 257-8

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 24, 1861

Congress passed, in secret session, a resolution to remove the seat of government to Richmond; but I learn it has been vetoed by the President. There is a strong feeling against going thither among some of the secessionists in the Cotton States. Those who do not think there will be a great deal of fighting, have apprehensions that the border States, so tardy in the secession movement, will strive to monopolize the best positions and patronage of the new government. Indeed, if it were quite certain that there is to be no war for existence — as if a nation could be free without itself striking the blow for freedom — I think there would be a party — among the politicians, not the people — opposed to confederating with the border slave States.

Some of his fellow-members tell many jokes on Mr. Hunter. They say every time he passes the marble-yards going up to the capitol, and surveys the tomb-stones, he groans in agony, and predicts that he will get sick and die here. If this be true, I predict that he will get the seat of government moved to Richmond, a more congenial climate. He has a way of moving large bodies, which has rarely failed him; and some of his friends at the hotels, already begin to hint that he is the proper man to be the first President of the permanent government. I think he will be President some day. He would be a safe one. But this whisper at the hotel has produced no little commotion. Some propose making him Secretary of War, as a sure means of killing him off. I know a better way than that, but I wouldn't suggest it for the world. I like him very much.

To-day the Secretary placed in my hands for examination and report, a very long document, written by a deposed or resigned Roman priest. He urged a plan to avert the horrors of war. He had been to see Lincoln, Gov. Letcher, etc., and finally obtained an interview on “important business” with President Davis. The President, not having leisure even to listen to his exordium, requested him to make his communication briefly in writing. And this was it — about twenty pages of foolscap. It consisted chiefly of evidences of the exceeding wickedness of war, and suggestions that if both belligerents would only forbear to take up arms, the peace might be preserved, and God would mediate between them. Of course I could only indorse on the back “demented.” But the old man hung round the department for a week afterward, and then departed, I know not whither. I forget his name, but his paper is in the archives of the government. I have always differed with the preachers in politics and war, except the Southern preachers who are now in arms against the invader. I think war is one of the providences of God, and certainly no book chronicles so much fighting as the Bible. It may be to the human race what pruning is to vegetation, a necessary process for the general benefit.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 41-2

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 11, 1861

We did hear cannon to-day. The woman who slandered Mrs. Davis's republican court, of which we are honorable members, by saying they — well, were not young; that they wore gaudy colors, and dressed badly — I took an inventory to-day as to her charms. She is darkly, deeply, beautifully freckled; she wears a wig which is kept in place by a tiara of mock jewels; she has the fattest of arms and wears black bead bracelets.

The one who is under a cloud, shadowed as a Yankee spy, has confirmed our worst suspicions. She exhibited unholy joy, as she reported seven hundred sick soldiers in the hospital at Culpeper, and that Beauregard had sent a flag of truce to Washington.

What a night we had! Maria had seen suspicious persons hovering about all day, and Mrs. Preston a ladder which could easily be placed so as to reach our rooms. Mary Hammy saw lights glancing about among the trees, and we all heard guns. So we sat up. Consequently, I am writing in bed to-day. A letter from my husband saying, in particular: “Our orders are to move on,'” the date, July 10th. “Here we are still and no more prospect of movement now than when I last wrote to you. It is true, however, that the enemy is advancing slowly in our front, and we are preparing to receive him. He comes in great force, being more than three times our number.”

The spy, so-called, gave us a parting shot: said Beauregard had arrested her brother in order that he might take a fine horse which the aforesaid brother was riding. Why? Beauregard, at a moment's notice, could have any horse in South Carolina, or Louisiana, for that matter. This man was arrested and sent to Richmond, and “will be acquitted as they always are,” said Brewster. "They send them first to Richmond to see and hear everything there; then they acquit them, and send them out of the country by way of Norfolk to see everything there. But, after all, what does it matter? They have no need for spies: our newspapers keep no secrets hid. The thoughts of our hearts are all revealed. Everything with us is open and aboveboard.

“At Bethel the Yankees fired too high. Every daily paper is jeering them about it yet. They’ll fire low enough next time, but no newspaper man will be there to get the benefit of their improved practise, alas!"

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 79-81

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: September 25, 1861

The last two days spent with pleasant friends — one day with Miss M. M., and the other with my old acquaintance, Mrs. Dr. F., of the “White Post.” These ladies, like all others, are busy for the soldiers. To-day I received a copy of “Headley Vicars,” abridged for the camp, by my friend J. J. Mr. M. will take it to-morrow to the camp, when he goes with the wagon. To-day we have been helping the Bishop to pack a barrel of grapes, and another with tomatoes and other fresh vegetables; and yet another Mrs. M. has packed with bread, biscuit, and a variety of things for the sick.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 65

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, March 27, 1864

I went with father to meeting today, in our old church at Inland, and attended the Communion of the Lord's Supper with the Disciples. They have no minister at present, but meet every Lord's Day to break bread. It rained nearly all day.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 176

Diary of Gideon Welles: Friday, August 15, 1862

Received yesterday a note from Chase that the President proposed to change two of the nominees under the new tax law in Connecticut. Called on the President, and stated to him I did it as a duty, that duty alone impelled me. He said he fully believed it, and was glad to do me the justice to say that in matters of appointments, patronage, I had never given him any trouble. Having an appointment this Friday morning at 9 with the President, I met there Babcock¹ and Platt² of Connecticut. They had called and stated their case, which was extremely unjust to Mr. Howard, and, turning to me, Mr. B. said H. claimed he had procured or secured my appointment. The President said he had a slight acquaintance with Mr. H. himself. Had met him in Illinois and knew him as a friend of mine. Had received letters from him expressing regard for me, and one signed jointly by H. and Senator Dixon. But these gentlemen did not originate his action in relation to my appointment. “The truth is,” said he, — “and I may as well state the facts to you, for others know them, — on the day of the Presidential election, the operator of the telegraph in Springfield placed his instrument at my disposal. I was there without leaving, after the returns began to come in, until we had enough to satisfy us how the election had gone. This was about two in the morning of Wednesday. I went home, but not to get much sleep, for I then felt, as I never had before, the responsibility that was upon me. I began at once to feel that I needed support, — others to share with me the burden. This was on Wednesday morning, and before the sun went down I had made up my Cabinet. It was almost the same that I finally appointed. One or two changes were made, and the particular position of one or two was unsettled. My mind was fixed on Mr. Welles as the member from New England on that Wednesday. Some other names passed through my thoughts, and some persons were afterwards pressed upon me, but the man and the place were fixed in my mind then, as it now is. My choice was confirmed by Mr. H., by Senator Dixon, Preston King, Vice-President Hamlin, Governor Morgan, and others, but the selection was my own, and not theirs, and Mr. H. is under a mistake in what he says.”

_______________

¹ James F. Babcock, editor of the New Haven Palladium. Lincoln appointed him Collector at New Haven.

² O. H. Platt, subsequently United States Senator.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 81-2

Diary of Salmon P. Chase: Wednesday August 6, 1862

Nothing much thought of to-day except the great War Meeting — which was immense. None of the Cabinet there except myself and Mr. Bates. The President, after Mr. Chittenden had finished, said to me (the people clamoring for him) “Well! hadn't I better say a few words and get rid of myself?” Hardly waiting for an answer, he advanced at once to the stand. He was received with most uproarious enthusiasm. His frank, genial, generous face and direct simplicity of bearing, took all hearts. His speech is in all the prints, and evinces his usual originality and sagacity.

Prof. Reed and his son, Capt. Reed, and assistant, Secretary Usher dined with me. Mr. Bates and Dr. Schmidt came from meeting with me and stopped at my house. After Mr. Bates went, I played chess with the Doctor, who was far my overmatch — he beating me with ease two or three times, while I only, by accident beat him once.

SOURCE: Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 57

Diary of William Howard Russell: March 22, 1861

A snow-storm worthy of Moscow or Riga flew through New York all day, depositing more food for the mud. I paid a visit to Mr. Horace Greeley, and had a long conversation with him. He expressed great pleasure at the intelligence that I was going to visit the Southern States. “Be sure you examine the slave-pens. They will be afraid to refuse you, and you can tell the truth.” As the capital and the South form the chief attractions at present, I am preparing to escape from “the divine calm” and snows of New York. I was recommended to visit many places before I left New York, principally hospitals and prisons. Sing-Sing, the state penitentiary, is “claimed,” as the Americans say, to be the first “institution” of its kind in the world. Time presses, however, and Sing-Sing is a long way off. I am told a system of torture prevails there for hardened or obdurate offenders — torture by dropping cold water on them, torture by thumb-screws, and the like — rather opposed to the views of prison philanthropists in modern days.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 26

Reverend James Freeman Clarke to Anna Huidekoper Clarke, April 4, 1865

New York, April 4, 1865.

What good news! These things seem to come as apples fall when they are ripe; we pull at them in spring and summer and they hold on, but at last drop of themselves so quietly that we hardly notice it. Abolition of slavery, fall of Charleston, fall of Richmond, — when they arrive they are like things foreordained from the foundation of the world. But there is a sad story to follow of losses, — another great flood of grief to rush over the land, giving its pathetic minor to the music of thanksgiving. But let us hope that the end has come.  . . . We heard of the fall of Richmond, at Springfield. It startled Henry B. Rogers into such unwonted enthusiasm that he clapped a hand on each of my shoulders, and half embraced me. “Negro troops too,” said he, “think of that!” I did think of it, with grateful tears, in my heart if not in my eyes, to that great Wisdom who does all things well. . . .

I shall see Dr. Bellows this morning, — ride down Broadway to Wall Street, and see how the city looks, then come and work on my sermon till the last minute. Let us trust that whether it be good or bad, the Master may make it good to the hearers in its influence and results.

SOURCE: Edwin Everett Hale, Editor, James Freeman Clarke: Autobiography, Diary and Correspondence, p. 290-1

Wilder Dwight to Elizabeth White Dwight, Saturday, July 16, 1861

in Bivouac At Bunker Hill, July 16, 1861.

We paused last evening, on our march toward Winchester, and lay down on the side of a hill in a pine grove. Late Sunday evening, at Martinsburg, the order came to be in readiness to march at five o'clock the next morning. No intimation whither. We had reveillé at three o'clock, packed wagons, breakfasted, formed the battalion, and then came our marching orders. The whole command of General Patterson commenced its movement at five. The march was without incident. We found our place in column at about eight o'clock, and moved on till three, when we reached Bunker Hill. There was firing by our advanced guard, who drove fifteen hundred of the enemy's cavalry before them. We came upon their deserted camp. The movement was steady but slow. From the high ground, and in turnings of the road, the sight was a fine one. Our regiment excited universal admiration. It is already considered the regiment of the whole command. My horse works beautifully, and keeps perfectly well. I have great comfort in him. When one is twelve hours in saddle, it makes a difference what the saddle is on. The camp-ground assigned us was the one we now occupy. It is very much exposed, and in advance of the main body. On taking possession of it, we found every indication of recent occupation, and find that the Rebels occupied it night before last. The men lay right down to rest. I continued upon duty, under direction of the Colonel, till five o'clock in the afternoon. Then, a man who lived near by invited us to tea with him. Our wagons were back in the interminable train, and we had given up all hope of them till late. The man spoke strongly of Union, &c. We accepted his offer, and went down to his farm-house and ate our bacon and eggs in the midst of his pickaninnies and slaves. The poor man could not speak of the American flag without choking. He said the other army had pressed their horses and food, &c., and given them nothing in return but receipts of the Southern Confederacy, and “there ain't any Southern Confederacy,” said he. Still the prevailing tone here is secession. We lay down at night under the trees. I posted a picket-guard outside the lines, and, after attending to other duties, was right glad to go to sleep.

Our men are toughening to it slowly, but their knapsacks still pull heavily at them.

To-day we have been resting the men, and having skirmish-drill in the wheat-fields. One of our companies is off on picket duty, three miles down the road towards Winchester. We had a call this morning from Major Doubleday. His battery is the terror of the enemy. He got out his map, and we studied the localities. He talked very agreeably about Sumter, &c. We have just received (four P. M., Tuesday) our orders for the advance upon Winchester. A very good place is assigned us. The impression is that the advance forms part of a grand concerted movement, and that to-morrow will be a decisive day in the history of the campaign. I hope for a big, worthy battle, one that means something and decides something. And I hope to have strength, courage, and wisdom to do my duty in it. I never felt happier or more earnest than for the last few days, and I never realized more fully the best significance of life. I have always had a dream and theory about the virtues that are called out by war. I have nothing to say of the supply which I can furnish, but I am vividly impressed with the demand. The calling needs a whole man; and it exacts very much from him. Self gets thrown into the background. It straggles out of the column, and is picked up, if at all, very late, by the rear-guard. I am writing this letter upon an empty case of cartridges, which were distributed this morning, sitting under an oak-tree back of the lines by the side of the Colonel, who has just returned from a conference with Colonel Abercrombie, and who is full of the duties of to-morrow. Good by, and God bless you. Love to all.

If anything should happen to me, remember that I meant to do my duty.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 49-50

John Lothrop Motley to Anna Lothrop Motley, March 15, 1861

31 Hertford Street,

March 15, 1861.

My Dearest Mother:  . . . It is not for want of affection and interest, not from indolence, but I can hardly tell you how difficult it is to me to write letters. I pass as much of my time daily as I can at the State Paper Office, reading hard in the old MSS. there for my future volumes; and as the hours are limited there to from ten till four, I am not really master of my own time.

I am delighted to find that the success of the “United Netherlands” gives you and my father so much pleasure. It is by far the pleasantest reward for the hard work I have gone through to think that the result has given you both so much satisfaction. Not that I grudge the work, for, to say the truth, I could not exist without hard labor, and if I were compelled to be idle for the rest of my days, I should esteem it the severest affliction possible.

My deepest regret is that my work should be for the present on the wrong side of the Atlantic. Before leaving the subject of the new volumes, I should like to say that I regret that no one has sent me any of the numerous reviews and notices in the American papers and magazines to which you allude. I received a number of the New York “Times” from the governor, and also the “Courier,” containing notices. The latter, which was beautifully and sympathetically written, I ascribed to Hillard's pen, which I do not think I can mistake. If this be so, I hope you will convey my best thanks to him.

These are the only two which have been sent to me, and it is almost an impossibility for me to procure American newspapers here. Of course both Mary and Lily, as well as myself, would be pleased to see such notices, and it seems so easy to have a newspaper directed to 31 Hertford Street, with a three-cent stamp. Fortunately, I recently subscribed to the “Atlantic Monthly,'” and so received the March number, in which there is a most admirably written notice, although more complimentary than I deserve. It is with great difficulty that I can pick up anything of the sort, and I fear now that as the time passes it will be difficult for me to receive them from America.

The Harpers have not written to me, but I received a line from Tom showing that the book was selling very well considering the times. As to politics I shall not say a word, except that at this moment we are in profound ignorance as to what will be the policy of the new administration, how the inauguration business went off, and what was the nature of Mr. Lincoln's address, and how it was received, all which you at home at this moment have known for eleven days. I own that I can hardly see any medium between a distinct recognition of the Southern Confederacy as an independent foreign power, and a vigorous war to maintain the United States government throughout the whole country. But a war without an army means merely a general civil war, for the great conspiracy to establish the Southern Republic, concocted for twenty years, and brought to maturity by Mr. Buchanan's cabinet ministers, has, by that wretched creature's connivance and vacillation, obtained such consistency in these fatal three months of interregnum as to make it formidable. The sympathy of foreign powers, and particularly of England, on which the seceders so confidently relied to help them on in their plot, has not been extended to them. I know on the very highest authority and from repeated conversations that the English government looks with deepest regret on the dismemberment of the great American Republic. There has been no negotiation whatever up to this time of any kind, secret or open, with the secessionists. This I was assured of three or four days ago.  . . . At the same time, I am obliged to say that there has been a change, a very great change, in English sympathy since the passing of the Morrill Tariff Bill. That measure has done more than any commissioner from the Southern Republic could do to alienate the feelings of the English public toward the United States, and they are much more likely to recognize the Southern Confederacy at an early day than they otherwise would have done. If the tariff people had been acting in league with the secessionists to produce a strong demonstration in Europe in favor of the dissolution of the Union, they could not have managed better.

I hear that Lewis Stackpole is one of the most rising young lawyers of the day, that he is very popular everywhere, thought to have great talents for his profession, great industry, and that he is sure to succeed. You may well suppose with how much delight we hear such accounts of him.

My days are always spent in hard work, and as I never work at night, going out to dinners and parties is an agreeable and useful relaxation, and as I have the privilege of meeting often many of the most eminent people of our times, I should be very stupid if I did not avail myself of it; and I am glad that Lily has so good an opportunity of seeing much of the most refined and agreeable society in the world.

The only very distinguished literary person that I have seen of late for the first time is Dickens. I met him last week at a dinner at John Forster's. I had never even seen him before, for he never goes now into fashionable company. He looks about the age of Longfellow. His hair is not much grizzled and is thick, although the crown of his head is getting bald. His features are good, the nose rather high, the eyes largish, grayish, and very expressive. He wears a mustache and beard, and dresses at dinner in exactly the same uniform which every man in London or the civilized world is bound to wear, as much as the inmates of a penitentiary are restricted to theirs. I mention this because I had heard that he was odd and extravagant in his costume. I liked him exceedingly. We sat next each other at table, and I found him genial, sympathetic, agreeable, unaffected, with plenty of light, easy talk and touch-and-go fun without any effort or humbug of any kind. He spoke with great interest of many of his Boston friends, particularly of Longfellow, Wendell Holmes, Felton, Sumner, and Tom Appleton. I have got to the end of my paper, my dearest mother, and so, with love to the governor and A–––, and all the family great and small, I remain

Most affectionately your son,

J. L. M.

P. S. I forgot to say that another of Forster's guests was Wilkie Collins (the "Woman in White's" author). He is a little man, with black hair, a large white forehead, large spectacles, and small features. He is very unaffected, vivacious, and agreeable.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 117-21

Nassau W. Senior to John M. Forbes, August 20, 1861

CHATEÂU DE TOCQUEVILLE, August 20, 1861.

My Dear Mr. Forbes,—I write from a place in which your name is often mentioned, and always with great gratitude. Madame de Tocqueville, after an illness of thirteen or fourteen years, is better than I have seen her since 1848. The first use that she has made of returning strength has been to unite a little party of her old friends, — the Beaumonts, Ampere, and ourselves, — and we are passing charming mornings in walking and driving, and evenings in talking and hearing Ampere read Moliere, — which is better than most acting.

I find the general opinion in France and in England as to your affairs identical.

It is a general conviction that the secession is one of the wildest and wickedest acts that has ever been committed; that you will beat the seceders, but that you will not so far conquer them as to make them your subjects, or even portions of your federation; that having humiliated and punished them you will dictate your own terms on which you will allow them to go; that those terms will probably be that you will keep New Orleans and Western Virginia; that you will deprive them of any right to territories, and probably prohibit their having a slave trade. As you are fond of tariffs and have not yet found out that they do more harm to the nation that makes them than to the nation against which they are directed, we suppose that you will enact against them a hostile tariff.

We all bitterly deplore the defeat at Bull's Run, believing that it will prolong the war.

We also think that our conduct to you has been perfectly right, and that your complaints of it are the childish folly of a democracy which has never met with a check before, and like other spoilt children beats the chair over which it has fallen. You will not agree with me, I know, for even your good sense has not saved you altogether from participating in the unreasonableness of those about you.

The state of this country is painful. France is a witch, who has sold herself to the devil, on the condition that he shall give power to hurt others. L. N.'s offer to her was made to our Saviour, when Satan, having shown him all the kingdoms of the world and the glory thereof, said, “All this will I give thee if thou wilt worship me.”

The indignation, shame, and depression of the higher and educated classes is indescribable.

We intend to wander over the east and south of France, and return to England in the beginning of October. Kindest regards.

Ever yours,

N. W. Senior.

SOURCE: Sarah Forbes Hughes, Letters and Recollections of John Murray Forbes, Volume 1, p. 245-7

Charles Eliot Norton to George William Curtis, December 31, 1861

Shady Hill, 31 December, 1861.

. . . Lowell has been spending the evening with us, and brought up to read to us his new Biglow Paper. It is one of the best things that he ever did, — it is a true Yankee pastoral and lyric; — not another letter of B. Sawin, but a poem or rather two poems of Hosea's own, — the first a dialogue between Concord Bridge and Bunker Hill monument, — the last a lyric about Jonathan and John, with the most spirited refrain. I am sure that you will be as delighted with it as I am. There is no doubt but that it will touch the popular heart.

I entirely agree with you as to the masterly manner in which Seward has treated the Trent case. If his paper has too much the character of a legal plea for strict diplomatic usage, it is to be remembered that it is to be in reality addressed to the American people and not to Lord Lyons. Shall we yet have to fight England? With all my heart I hope not, — but if need be, I am ready. . . .

SOURCE: Sara Norton and  M. A. DeWolfe Howe, Letters of Charles Eliot Norton, Volume 1, p. 250

George William Curtis to Charles Eliot Norton, March 11, 1863

11th March, 1863.

Not only has the reaction consumed itself, but it is of the greatest significance that the result is not due to a victory, but is a purely intellectual and moral recuperation. I have been very sure that, when the Democratic party found that they could not operate on the base of peace, they would hurry over to war, as McClellan from the Pamunkey to the James. But the movement shows that the strongest and most sagacious men of the party are its old Southern leaders. Jeff and his friends have known from the beginning that it was a war of ideas, which had exhausted compromise and had to fight. The Northern Democrats refuse to acknowledge the truth, but they are forced to act upon it, which comes practically to the same thing.

SOURCE: Edward Cary, George William Curtis, p. 164

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Charles Fessenden Morse, Thursday, August 15, 1861

I was ordered this morning to be ready, immediately after breakfast, with the company armed with picks, shovels, axes and bars, to proceed to join two other companies and work on a road that was building across the mountain. Captain Curtis did not go, as the road was in charge of another Captain.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 17

Colonel Charles Russell Lowell to John C. Bancroft, May 24, 1863

Camp Near Washington, May 24, '63.

We have been ten pleasant, sultry, summer days in camp here, monotonous, but enough occupied not to dislike the monotony, — dry and cool and dewy in the morning, and still and cool in the evenings, — with a very pretty view from my tent front (where we sit under a fly) — nothing striking, only green hills and fields and cattle, and off on the right the Potomac, and beyond rise the heights, where they have put forts, — you would not suppose it, however, it looks as peaceful as a Sunday should. It makes me infernally homesick, John, — I should like to be at home, even to go to church, — nay, I should even like to have a chaplain here to read the service and a few chapters I would select from the New Testament, — you’ll think it must be a peaceful scene to lull me into such a lamblike mood.¹

Lamblike, however, seems to be the order of the day, — unless, indeed, Grant's success at Vicksburg is to be believed. The Army of the Potomac is commonly reported to be going into summer quarters.

_______________

¹ Soon after, Rev. Charles A. Humphreys was appointed Chaplain of the Second Cavalry, and joined the regiment in Virginia. He was cordially received and treated with consideration by Colonel Lowell, and remained with the regiment until the close of the war, except during some months in the summer and autumn of 1864, when he was in a Southern prison with Major Forbes and Lieutenant Amory, all having been captured in a disastrous fight at Zion's Church. Mr. Humphreys held his Colonel in the highest esteem. He wrote an article about him, in the Harvard Monthly, in February, 1886, to which I am indebted. It was through Chaplain Humphreys' instrumentality that the marble bust of Colonel Lowell., which adorns the Memorial Hall, at Cambridge, was made by the sculptor Daniel Chester French, — a gift of the officers and friends of the regiment.

SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, p. 247, 418

Diary of Josephine Shaw Lowell: September 20, 1862

On the 25th of the month a proclamation is due from Mr. Lincoln and everyone looks for emancipation. If he issues such an edict of course the pro-slavery generals must either resign or fight for freedom with a will, because if slavery is extinct, not to be revived under any circumstances, all their hopes of preserving it are past and they will be tired of shilly-shally when there's no object to be gained by it. Oh, that the Lord would only put it into Lincoln's head to do something strong and decided! We must ride this time through.

SOURCE: William Rhinelander Stewart, The Philanthropic Work of Josephine Shaw Lowell, p. 33

John Brown Jr. to John Brown, August 16, 1856

Aug. 16, 1856.

The prospect now appears so favorable for us that it does seem as though I had better not try to meet you just now. The prospect is that there will be either a writ of habeas corpus issued, or a change of venue, which will in either case take us into the States for trial. Have sent you several letters lately by persons going to Topeka, and I enclose one which I wrote on the 13th.¹ The bearer of it, not seeing you there, has returned it. I was in hearing of the attack on Colonel Titus this morning. A messenger has just come in, stating that he (Titus) and several others were taken prisoners; Titus wounded. He also reports that a Free-State man was either killed yesterday or last night, as he was found at Titus's stiff and cold. I saw the fire of Titus's house. Well, it seems that Heaven is smiling on our arms. The case may be that within a few days I shall think it altogether best to try to meet you. A very few days will determine. All well. May God bless you! Good-by.

I should be very glad to see you, if you think it prudent to visit me. There is nothing here, that I know of, in the way. If you come just at edge of evening, no one need know it is you; but don't risk yourself if you are aware of danger. There are spies around. In view of present prospects, the prisoners think best that no attempt should be made at present to release them. We are all well treated here. Captain Sackett is a noble man. Should be very glad to know where I could communicate with you from time to time.

J. B., Jr., in prison.

Indorsed by John Brown.

_______________

¹ Not extant.

SOURCE: Franklin B. Sanborn, The Life and Letters of John Brown, p. 310-1