Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: February 8, 1862

I have called on the two ladies mentioned above. The lady with the small income has filled her rooms, and wishes she had more to fill. She of the large house and small family had “never dreamed of taking boarders,” was “surprised that such a thing had been suggested,” looked cold and lofty, and meant me to feel that she was far too rich for that. I bowed myself out, feeling not a little scornful of such airs, particularly as I remembered the time when she was not quite so grand I went on my way Speculating on the turning of the wheel of fortune, until I reached the house of an old acquaintance, and rang her bell, hoping that she might take in wanderers. This I did not venture to suggest, but told her my story in pitiful tones. She was all sympathy, and would be glad to take us in, but for the reserve of a bachelor brother to whom the house belonged. She appreciated the situation, and advised me to call on Mrs. ––– on ––– Street. Nothing daunted by past experience, I bent my steps to Street, and soon explained my object to Mrs. –––. She had had vacant rooms until two days ago, but a relative had taken both. Though she spoke positively, she looked doubtful, and I thought I saw indecision in the expression of her mouth. I ventured to expostulate: “Perhaps the lady might be induced to give up one room.” She hesitated, and gave me an inquiring look. I told her my history. “An Episcopal minister,” she exclaimed; “I'm an Episcopalian, and would be delighted to have a minister in the house. Do you think he would have prayers for us sometimes?” “Oh, certainly, it would gratify him very much.” “Well, the lady is not at home to-day, but when she comes I will try to persuade her to do it. Call on Monday.” I thanked her, and was walking out, when she called me back, saying, “You will not expect a constant fire in the parlour, will you?” "Oh, no; I can take my visitors to my own room.” “Well, I may be out on Monday morning; come in the evening.” I returned very much pleased, and received the congratulations of my friends, who are taking much interest in our welfare.

We are suffering great uneasiness about the country. The enemy is attacking Roanoke Island furiously. General Wise is there, and will do all that can be done; but fears are entertained that it has not been properly fortified.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 88-90

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, April 26, 1864

We stopped at Centralia this morning for breakfast, and arrived at Cairo about 5 o'clock in the evening. Our regiment received new tents, and marching up the Ohio, we went with our non-veteran comrades into camp just above Cairo. There are about twenty thousand troops in camp at this place, and a large expedition is being fitted out here, to start in a few days, but there is no certainty as to where it is going.1 Most of the Seventeenth Army Corps is camped here awaiting orders. It is being reorganized and fitted out with Springfield rifles and cartridge boxes.
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1 The expedition was fitted out for the campaign against Atlanta, under the command of General Sherman. — A. G. D.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 183

Monday, February 23, 2015

Brigadier-General John A. Rawlins to Mary Emeline Hurlburt Rawlins, March 26, 1864

March 26, 1864.

. . . To-day has been cloudy, with high winds. The snow has entirely disappeared, except from the slopes of the Blue Ridge, which strange to say is plainly visible from here though twenty miles distant. Unless more rain or snow falls the roads here will soon be in good condition. I feel much better of my cough and when I see you again I hope to be entirely recovered from it. Nothing new here. No information comes from the enemy's lines to break the dull monotony that seems to prevail throughout this entire army. It is greatly different I assure you from what it was out West. There we were always getting some information that kept up an excitement and made it seem that we were doing something. I trust, however, that this monotony will soon be broken by the movement of the unbroken columns of this splendidly equipped and well fed army of veterans against the famed Army of Northern Virginia. For if it fights as it feels, success must attend its next advance towards Richmond. Every day gives me hope of triumph to our country in the impending conflict. One decisive victory here will go far towards the consummation of the Patriot's hope.

The General goes in the morning to Washington but will return the next day and the talk is now that on Wednesday of the coming week, he and I will visit the army of General Butler. Colonel Bowers and all the members of the staff except Colonel Duff and Captain Badeau have arrived. Our horses and baggage came through safely. Mrs. Grant was to visit the White House to-day. Captain Badeau, who is familiar with Washington society and manners, remained to accompany her. I have no doubt she will be greatly delighted. I send you enclosed a photograph of Colonel T. S. Bowers, with his autograph. . . .

SOURCE: James H. Wilson, The Life of John A. Rawlins, p. 405-6

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, Friday, October 3, 1864

October 3, 1864

Yesterday afternoon arrived Lieutenant-Colonel Loring and Major L––––.  The former looks in better health and immediately set to work on the duties of his office, as Inspector-General, under the easy rule of General Parke, who succeeds the rule of Burnside the Fat.  L––––, always fancy, comes in much store clothes, a new shell jacket, double-breasted, and a pair of cerulean riding tights with a broad gold band, into which, according to report, he must be assisted by two strong men. Also his sabre newly burnished, and the names of the battles engraved on it, with other new and elegant touches. He was the young gentleman, you know, of whom the Reb paper said it was unworthy an honest officer to clasp the hand dipped in the gore of their brethren, even though cased in a glove of delicate kid! This was a quiet day, wherein we lay still and made ourselves comfortable. The “comfortable” meant, with many of the officers, lying abed till the classic hour of Richard and Robin; for the General, these last days, has been getting up and riding out at fitful and uncertain hours. I think, when he feels anxious and responsible himself, that he likes to keep others a little on the stretch also. So he would give no orders overnight, but suddenly hop up in the morning and begin to call for breakfast, orderlies, aides, horses, etc. I am sharp, and, at the first sound he makes, I am up and speedily dressed; whereas the others get caught and have to leave suddenly. Biddle is the funniest. There he was, trotting along, the other morning, talking away, like a spinster who had lost her lap dog. “Well, I do think it is too bad! The General never tells anyone when he is going out, and here I am with no breakfast — no breakfast at all!” And here B. opened his fingers and disclosed one boiled egg! To think of a Major on the General Staff riding after his General, with the reins in one hand and a boiled egg in the other!

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 239-40

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, April 16, 1865

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac, April 16, 1865.

I received to-day your letter of the 12th, giving an account of the Union League serenade, and of your having learned of the death of Willie. I am glad for your sake some notice has been taken of my services.

As to Willie, I have written to you how shocked I was to hear of his death. This will, of course, be a terrible blow to his poor wife and the dear children. Your mother also, at her time of life, will necessarily feel it deeply.

Yesterday we were shocked by the announcement of the assassination of the President, Secretary and Assistant Secretary of State. I cannot imagine the motives of the perpetrators of these foul deeds, or what they expect to gain. The whole affair is a mystery. Let us pray God to have mercy on our country and bring us through these trials.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 272-3

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: May 10, 1862

Oh! this heart-crushing suspense! No news from the scene of battle, except the report that Major Ross is among the killed. Thursday, the day of the battle at Buffalo Gap, cannonading was distinctly heard here; our servants noticed it and spoke of it during the day. Today, they insist that they heard it distinctly again. Oh! my husband! Could I but know he was safe! I wonder at myself that I do not loose my senses. My God! help me to stay my heart on thee!

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 139

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 14, 1861

Col. Bledsoe has given up writing almost entirely, but he groans as much as ever. He is like a fish out of water, and unfit for office.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 51

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: August 25, 1861

Mr. Barnwell says democracies lead to untruthfulness. To be always electioneering is to be always false; so both we and the Yankees are unreliable as regards our own exploits. “How about empires? Were there ever more stupendous lies than the Emperor Napoleon's?” Mr. Barnwell went on: “People dare not tell the truth in a canvass; they must conciliate their constituents. Now everybody in a democracy always wants an office; at least, everybody in Richmond just now seems to want one.” Never heeding interruptions, he went on: “As a nation, the English are the most truthful in the world.” “And so are our country gentlemen: they own their constituents — at least, in some of the parishes, where there are few whites; only immense estates peopled by negroes.” Thackeray speaks of the lies that were told on both sides in the British wars with France; England kept quite alongside of her rival in that fine art. England lied then as fluently as Russell lies about us now.

Went to see Agnes De Leon, my Columbia school friend. She is fresh from Egypt, and I wished to hear of the Nile, the crocodiles, the mummies, the Sphinx, and the Pyramids. But her head ran upon Washington life, such as we knew it, and her soul was here. No theme was possible but a discussion of the latest war news.

Mr. Clayton, Assistant Secretary of State, says we spend two millions a week. Where is all that money to come from? They don't want us to plant cotton, but to make provisions. Now, cotton always means money, or did when there was an outlet for it and anybody to buy it. Where is money to come from now?

Mr. Barnwell's new joke, I dare say, is a Joe Miller, but Mr. Barnwell laughed in telling it till he cried. A man was fined for contempt of court and then, his case coming on, the Judge talked such arrant nonsense and was so warped in his mind against the poor man, that the “fined one” walked up and handed the august Judge a five-dollar bill, “Why? What is that for?” said the Judge. “Oh, I feel such a contempt of this court coming on again!”

I came up tired to death; took down my hair; had it hanging over me in a Crazy Jane fashion; and sat still, hands over my head (half undressed, but too lazy and sleepy to move). I was sitting in a rocking-chair by an open window taking my ease and the cool night air, when suddenly the door opened and Captain walked in.

He was in the middle of the room before he saw his mistake; he stared and was transfixed, as the novels say. I dare say I looked an ancient Gorgon. Then, with a more frantic glare, he turned and fled without a word. I got up and bolted the door after him, and then looked in the glass and laughed myself into hysterics. I shall never forget to lock the door again. But it does not matter in this case. I looked totally unlike the person bearing my name, who, covered with lace cap, etc., frequents the drawing-room. I doubt if he would know me again.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 110-1

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: February 7, 1862

Walking all day, with no better success. “No vacant room” is the universal answer. I returned at dinner-time, wearied in mind and body. I have been cheered by suggestions that perhaps Mrs. –––, with a large family and small income, may take boarders; or Mrs. –––, with a large house and small family, may do the same.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 88

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Monday, April 25, 1864

And still it is raining! Reveille sounded at 5 o'clock this morning and we strapped on our knapsacks and all accouterments, and at 7 o'clock marched to the station, where we boarded the cars and started for Cairo.

We bade old Iowa farewell, perhaps never to return, for in the course of the coming events it is improbable that all will get back, but if the Lord is willing, I hope that we may be spared to return again. Crossing the Mississippi at 8 o'clock, we arrived at La Salle about noon and changed cars — exchanged fine coaches on the Rock Island for rather poor ones over the Illinois Central. Leaving La Salle at 3 o'clock we passed through Bloomington at dark, soon after which many of us took berths for the night. This morning just before leaving Davenport, I sent $50.00, my bounty money, to father by Solomon Lichtenwalter, who had come to Davenport to see us off. I then borrowed $5.00 of Thomas Armstrong, to run me till next pay day.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 182-3

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Brigadier-General John A. Rawlins to Mary Emeline Hurlburt Rawlins, March 25, 1864

March 25, 1864.

. . . To-day has been unusually stormy; we have had both at once and also in turns rain and snow. I have not ventured out, but in the resolve to regain my health, have remained quietly in doors, and shall continue to so remain except when the weather is favorable to my going out, unless the necessity for doing otherwise shall be very great.

General Grant is fully installed in his new command of all the armies of the United States, and from the ring of his orders and the attention he is giving to the concentration of his forces at points where they may be available for cooperative action, I have greater hopes than ever for the triumph of our arms in the coming campaign. The order breaking up two of the army corps of this army and attaching them to others, I spoke of in my letter of the 23rd, seems to be as satisfactorily received as could be expected, and will, I have great hopes, strengthen the army very considerably. Three corps, of which this army is now composed, will be more easily handled than five. The danger of making the change was, as I mentioned, in the dissatisfaction it might produce. Such danger is not now apprehended. General Meade was here to-day. He is delighted with General Grant's establishing his headquarters with the Army of the Potomac.

He believes in the ability of his army to cope successfully with that of Lee, and this is the proper spirit for the attainment of the desired end, namely, victory and Richmond. With the feeling of confidence this produces, this entire army and the dispositions of other troops which I am sure General Grant can and will make, I have the highest hopes of success and that too “ere many moons wax and wane.”

Our horses and baggage will arrive to-morrow afternoon. They are now at Washington. No review of the troops has yet taken place, nor will one take place. The General will see them in line simply, in front of or near their corps encampments. This will be far better than a grand parade and review, too many of which have already been had on the crimson soil of Virginia. We are here to try for the successes that were ours to enjoy in the West, and if the same Good Providence that gave us victories there, does not frown upon us here, the country will soon witness the dawning of the Day of Peace. . . .

SOURCE: James H. Wilson, The Life of John A. Rawlins, p. 404-5

Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Lyman to Elizabeth Russell Lyman, Friday, October 2, 1864

October 2,1 1864

Abou Ben Butler had quite a stampede last night. Having got so far away from home, he conceived that the whole southern host was massed to crush him, and communicated the same with much eloquence, by the instrumentality of the magnetic telegraph; whereat Major-General Humphreys, Chief-of-Staff, had the brutality to laugh! We made our usual peregrination to Globe Tavern, where we got about 10 o'clock. Here General Meade sent me to look for a new camp, first enquiring if I felt well enough for that arduous service, as he looks on me as a tender convalescent! It was a tedious business getting a spot; for the whole country was either occupied, or was very dirty from old camps. At quarter to eleven, as I was poking about, I heard firing to the left, pretty sharp for a few minutes, and supposed there might be quite a fight; but it died away, shortly, except the cannon, which were not frequent. I got to the front about one, and met General Meade at the Peeble house. He had been to the Pegram house and it was near there he had such a narrow escape from a shell. I told them that, had I been there, I should have been the odd man that would have been hit; for they all said that the Staff could not well have been arranged again so that there would have been room for a three-inch shot to pass without hitting somebody. The cause of the firing was, that the whole line advanced, except the right division, and established a front position at the Pegram house. . . .

The engineers were trotting round briskly, you may depend, ordering a redoubt here and a battery there, all intent on fencing in our new property. Luckily, the soil is very light and easy to dig, for our earthworks have now to be measured by miles. Not only must the front be protected, but the exposed flank and the rear. With what men we have, we do a great deal. Since we left Culpeper, I have not seen the troops look so healthy. If we could work a little more backbone into that 9th Corps, it would help wonderfully; but they started green and that is no way to ripen men. Many faults there have been also in the command. The men are in good spirits, I think, and well conditioned for the prosecution of the campaign. The evening of Sunday we went to our new camp, having lived nearly three months in the old one. It seemed quite like leaving home; for you get used to your little canvas house, pitched in a particular spot. The new camp is well enough placed, but in a region of evil savors. There is a timber bridge near by, and, every waggon that went over it, the General would jump and say, “By Jove, there is heavy musketry!” Gradually he learned the difference of sound and settled down quietly. The weather has been very warm the last day or two.
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1 Taking up the narrative of the events of this day. The letter was written on the 6th.

SOURCE: George R. Agassiz, Editor, Meade’s Headquarters, 1863-1865: Letters of Colonel Theodore Lyman from the Wilderness to Appomattox, p. 237-8

Major-General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, April 13, 1865

Headquarters Army Of The Potomac,
Burksville, Va., April 13, 1865.

Yesterday, as soon as I reached here, where there is a telegraph, I telegraphed to City Point to enquire about Willie,1 and received a reply from the medical officer in charge of the hospital that Willie had left the day before for Washington, doing well, the ball having been extracted. You can therefore imagine how shocked I was about midnight to get a despatch from Sandy Dallas, at Washington, stating Willie had died on the passage. I presume he must have died of hemorrhage, or some of those secondary causes that suddenly occur in gun-shot wounds. What a dreadful shock for his poor wife and your mother, and how it will mar the exultation of our recent victories!

Willie had established a high character for himself, and was doing so well that it seems hard he should be thus suddenly taken off. My God, what misery this dreadful war has produced, and how it comes home to the doors of almost every one!

I have written you fully, urging on you patience and resignation. Popular fame is at best but ephemeral, and so long as one has a clear conscience that he has done his duty, he can look, or at least should look, with indifference on the clamor of the vulgar.

I have received a very kind letter from Cortlandt Parker, and I enclose you one received to-day from Mr. Jay, of New York, so that I am not entirely without friends, though the few I have render them the more valuable. But, with or without friends, we ought to be happy so long as God spares our lives and blesses us with health, and our consciences are clear that we have done all we could. I trust we will soon have peace, and then I may be permitted to return to you and the children. This will compensate me for all I have gone through.
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1 Brother of Mrs. Meade.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 2, p. 272

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: May 1, 1862

A dreary dismal day of rain, and my feelings are in accordance with the weather. At midnight last night Mr. P. was summoned to the Institute by a dispatch received from Jackson, requiring the corps of cadets to march at once to his support in an expected battle. Before three o'clock he returned, saying he too was to go early in the morning. Although something of the kind has been continually dreaded, it was a shock to me — and such a grief! He is gone — to be exposed certainly to the chances of a stern battle; there is no mail communication between Jackson's position and this, so I can't hear from him, and must be content with rumors, which are torturing, because generally so exaggerated.

After he left me, I shut myself in his study, and blotted the leaves of his Bible with my tears, while I read on my knees the 91st Psalm, and besought God to realize to him all the promises contained in that Psalm. Then, with my finger on the Saviour’s promise, “Ask and it shall be given you,” etc., I plead his fulfilment of it to me in my precious husband's behalf; and I think I felt a relief in laying my aching heart on the bosom of the Redeemer. “Be not afraid, only believe! God has been so good to us in the past, let us trust him for the future” — my Beloved said to me as he held me in his arms at parting. With God's help I will try and act upon his counsel. Am I not limiting my heavenly Father's power when I feel that my husband is less safe on the battle field than at home? Wherever he is, the Almighty arms are around him; this being so, why should I be afraid? “Why art thou so fearful, oh, thou of little faith!”

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 138-9

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: June 13, 1861

Only one of the Williamsburg volunteers came into the department proper; and he will make his way, for he is a flatterer. He told me he had read my “Wild Western Scenes” twice, and never was so much entertained by any other book. He went to work with hearty good-will.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 51

Speech of John Bright [Extract]: August 1, 1861

I think that, just now, if you can find a man who on questions of great state policy agrees with us, at the same time having a deep personal interest in this great cotton question, and having paid so much attention to it as Mr. Cheetham has, — I think there is a double reason why he should receive the votes and have the confidence of this division of the county. (Cheers) Now, is this cotton question a great question Or not? I met a spinner to-day, — he does not live in Rochdale, though I met him here, — and I asked him what he thought about it; and he said, “Well, I think cotton will come somehow.” (Laughter.) And I find that there is that kind of answer to be had from three out of four of all the spinners that you ask. They know that in past times, when cotton has risen fifty or eighty per cent, or some extravagant rise, something has come, — the rate of interest has been raised, or there has been a commercial panic from some cause or other, and down the price has gone ; and when everybody said, “There would be no cotton at Christmas,” there proved a very considerable stock at Christmas. And so they say now.

I don’t in the least deny that it will be so; all I assert is, that this particular case is new, that we have never had a war in the United States between different sections of that country, affecting the production of cotton before; and it is not fair, or Wise, but rather childish than otherwise, to argue from past events, which were not a bit like this, of the event which is now passing before our eyes. They say, “It is quite true there is a civil war in America, but it will blow over: there will be a compromise; or the English government will break the blockade.” Now recollect what breaking the blockade means. It means a war with the United States; and I don’t think that it would be cheap to break the blockade at the cost of a war with the United States. I think that the cost of a war with the United States would give probably half wages, for a very considerable time, to those persons in Lancashire who would be out of work if there was no cotton, to say nothing at all of the manifest injustice and wrong against all international law, that a legal and effective blockade should be interfered with by another country.

It is not exactly the business of this meeting, but my opinion is, that the safety of the product on which this county depends rests far more on the success of the Washington government than upon its failure; and I believe nothing could be more monstrous than for us, who are not very averse to war ourselves, to set up for critics, carping, cavilling critics, of what the Washington government is doing. I saw a letter the other day from an Englishman, resident for twenty-five years in Philadelphia, a merchant there, and a very prosperous merchant. He said, “I prefer the institutions of this country (the , United States) very much to yours in England”; but he says also, “If it be once admitted that here we have no country and no government, but that any portion of these United States can break off from the central government whenever it pleases, then it is time for me to pack up what I have, and to go somewhere where there is a country and a government”
Well, that is the pith of this question. Do you suppose that, if Lancashire and Yorkshire thought that they would break off from the United Kingdom, those newspapers which are now preaching every kind of moderation to the government of Washington would advise the government in London to allow these two counties to set up a special government for themselves? When the people in Ireland wished to secede, was it proposed in London that they should be allowed to secede peaceably? Nothing of the kind. I am not going to defend what is taking place in a country that is well able to defend itself. But I advise you, and I advise the people of England, to abstain from applying to the United States doctrines and principles which we never apply to our own case. At any rate, they have never fought “for the balance of power ” in Europe. They have never fought to keep up a decaying empire. They have never squandered the money of their people in such phantom expeditions as we have been engaged in. And now at this moment, when you are told that they are going to be ruined by their vast expenditure, the sum that they are now going. To raise in the great emergency of this grievous war is no greater than what we raise every year during a time of peace. (Loud cheers.) They say that they are not going to liberate slaves. No; the object of the Washington government is to maintain their own Constitution, and to act legally, as it permits and requires.

No man is more in favor of peace than I am; no man has denounced war more than I have, probably, in this country; few men, in their public life, have suffered more obloquy — I had almost said, more indignity — in consequence of it. But I cannot, for the life of me, see, upon any of those principles upon which states are governed now, —— I say nothing of the literal word of the New Testament, — I cannot see how the state of affairs in America, with regard to the United States government, could have been different from what it is at this moment. We had a heptarchy in this country, and it was thought to be a good thing to get rid of it, and to have a united nation. If the thirty-three or thirty-four States of the American Union can break off whenever they like, I can see nothing but disaster and confusion throughout the whole of that continent. I say that the war, be it successful or not, be it Christian or not, be it wise or not, is a war to sustain the government and to sustain the authority of a great nation; and that the people of England, if they are true to their own sympathies, to their own history, and to their own great act of 1834, to which reference has already been made, will have no sympathy with those who wish to build up a great empire on the perpetual bondage of millions of their fellow-men. (Loud cheers.)

SOURCE: John Bright Moore, Speeches of John Bright, M.P., on the American Question, p. 1-7

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: August 24, 1861

Daniel, of The Examiner, was at the President's. Wilmot de Saussure wondered if a fellow did not feel a little queer, paying his respects in person at the house of a man whom he abused daily in his newspaper.

A fiasco: an aide engaged to two young ladies in the same house. The ladies had been quarreling, but became friends unexpectedly when his treachery, among many other secrets, was revealed under that august roof. Fancy the row when it all came out.

Mr. Lowndes said we have already reaped one good result from the war. The orators, the spouters, the furious patriots, that could hardly be held down, and who were so wordily anxious to do or die for their country — they had been the pest of our lives. Now they either have not tried the battle-field at all, or have precipitately left it at their earliest convenience: for very shame we are rid of them for a while. I doubt it. Bright's speech1 is dead against us. Reading this does not brighten one.
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1 The reference is to John Bright, whose advocacy of the cause of the Union in the British Parliament attracted a great deal of attention at the time.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 109

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: February 6, 1862

Spent this day in walking from one boarding-house to another, and have returned fatigued and hopeless. I do not believe there is a vacant spot in the city. A friend, who considers herself nicely fixed, is in an uncarpeted room, and so poorly furnished, that, besides her trunk, she has only her wash-stand drawer in which to deposit her goods and chattels; and yet she amuses herself at it, and seems never to regret her handsomely furnished chamber in Alexandria.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 87-8

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, April 24, 1864


It is raining again — there is nothing but rain and mud. Company B is now in camp and we received our pay today, including $50.00 of the new bounty. I got $63.00 in all. We received orders to be ready to move in the morning at 6 o'clock, and go to Cairo, Illinois. It rained all day and so we had to stay in camp. We had preaching here this afternoon. I had a couple of likenesses taken yesterday and today I am sending them away.

“Disappointment is the common lot of man.”

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 182

Saturday, February 21, 2015

Brigadier-General John A. Rawlins to Mary Emeline Hurlburt Rawlins, March 24, 1864

Culpepper C. H., Va., March 24, 1864.

. . . From the address of this you see we have arrived at our destination and oh how glad I am. We have a very nice house for headquarters. One room for an office, one for the General and one for myself. My room contains a nice feather-bed and fireplace, and looks delightfully comfortable. . . .

SOURCE: James H. Wilson, The Life of John A. Rawlins, p. 404