Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Friday, March 14, 1862

Camp Hayes, Raleigh, Virginia. — A fine pleasant morning. About 11 A. M. Captain Gilmore of Company [C, First] Pennsylvania [Virginia] Cavalry, came in, saying, “My scouts sent out this morning have all been killed or captured”; two only returned. It turned out that eight cavalry patrols of his company, who left here about 8:30 A. M., this morning, were fired upon by a gang of men concealed in the woods about seven miles from here on the Princeton Road near Hunly's. Two were killed, two wounded, one taken prisoner. One of the wounded men and two unhurt galloped into camp, having taken a circuitous route over the hills and through the woods. At this writing our loss is two killed and one taken prisoner.

I think the manner of this scouting or patrolling very objectionable. Six to ten men every morning about the same hour have been in the habit of riding out six to ten miles on this road. Nothing was easier than to lay an ambush for them. I suspect that the enemy fled instantly, that they are bushwhackers or militia. I sent out the whole cavalry company under Captain Gilmore and Companies B, H, and K, under Captain Drake, to get the bodies of the dead and the wounded man. Hunly is suspected to communicate intelligence to the enemy. None of these people are perfectly reliable. They will do what is necessary to protect their property.

Henderson, of Company H, taken prisoner last January, returned last night. He was exchanged and left Richmond February 23. He is called “Cleveland” by his company from the place of his enlistment. Others call him the “Pet Lamb,” from his delicate and youthful appearance. He is a quiet, observing, enterprising youngster; slender, sickly-looking, amiable; runs all risks, endures all hardships, and seems to enjoy it. A scout in fact, he is in constant danger of being taken for a spy. I must watch him. I suspect he is a genius. His father and mother died when he was a child.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 207-8

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Monday, April 6, 1863

Mr Behnsen and Mr Colville left for Bagdad this morning, in a very swell ambulance drawn by four gay mules.

At noon I crossed to Brownsville, and visited Captain Lynch, a quartermaster, who broke open a great box, and presented me with a Confederate felt hat to travel in. He then took me to the garrison, and introduced me to Colonel Buchel of the 3d Texas Regiment, who is by birth a German, but had served in the French army; and he prepared cocktails in the most scientific manner. I returned to Matamoros at 2.30 P.M.

Captain Hancock and Mr Anderson (the paymaster) arrived from Bagdad in a most miserable vehicle, at 4 P.M. They were a mass of dust, and had been seven hours on the road, after having been very nearly capsized on the bar.

There was a great firing of guns and squibs in the afternoon, in consequence of the news of a total defeat of the French at Puebla, with a loss of 8000 prisoners and 70 pieces of cannon.

Don Pablo, who had innocently hoisted his British flag in honour of Captain Hancock, was accused by his brother merchants of making a demonstration against the French.

After dinner we called on Mr Maloney, whose house is gorgeously furnished, and who has a pretty wife.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three months in the southern states: April-June, 1863, p. 11-12

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 12, 1862

The committee (Congressional) which have been investigating the Roanoke Island disaster have come to the conclusion, unanimously, and the House has voted accordingly, and with unanimity, that the blame and guilt of that great calamity rest solely upon “Gen. Huger and Judah P. Benjamin."

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 119

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: March 13, 1865

My husband at last did come for a visit of two hours. Brought Lawrence, who had been to Camden, and was there, indeed, during the raid. My husband has been ordered to Chester, S. C. We are surprised to see by the papers that we behaved heroically in leaving everything we had to be destroyed, without one thought of surrender. We had not thought of ourselves from the heroic point of view. Isaac McLaughlin hid and saved everything we trusted him with. A grateful negro is Isaac.

SOURCES: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 364

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: December 12, 1863

To-day I was examined on arithmetic — “Denominate numbers, vulgar and decimal fractions, tare and tret,” etc., etc., by Major Brewer, of the Commissary Department. I felt as if I had returned to my childhood. But for the ridiculousness of the thing, I dare say I should have been embarrassed. On Monday I am to enter on the duties of the office. We are to work from nine till three.

We have just received from our relatives in the country some fine Irish and sweet potatoes, cabbages, butter, sausages, chines, and a ham; and from a friend in town two pounds of very good green tea. These things are very acceptable, as potatoes are twelve dollars per bushel, pork and bacon two dollars fifty cents per pound, and good tea at twenty-five dollars per pound. How are the poor to live? Though it is said that the poor genteel are the real sufferers. Money is laid aside for paupers by every one who can possibly do it, but persons who do not let their wants be known are the really poor.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 247

Senator Robert M. T. Hunter to General Robert E. Lee, February 10, 1865

Senate Chamber,

10th February, 1865.

My dear Sir:

A letter has been addressed to you, urging the assignment of Genl. Joseph E. Johnston to the command of the Army in front of Sherman. This letter has been numerously signed by Senators, of whom I was not one. I did not sign because I did not wish to embarrass you. But my opinion is, that such an assignment would have a most beneficial effect. If I am to trust the manifestations which I have witnessed from certain members of Congress, there is nothing which could be done, which would so much revive hope, as the assignment of Genl. Joseph E. Johnston to the command of that Army.

Very truly and respectfully,

Your friend,

R. M. T. Hunter.

Official.

W. H. Taylor, A. A. G.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 239-40

Diary of Sarah Morgan: October 6, 1862

Last night, I actually drew from Gibbes the outlines of Jackson's campaign. He told me of some heroic deeds of his fellow soldiers; but of his own, not a word. I have seen his name too often in the papers, to believe that he has no deeds of his own to relate, if he only would.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 253

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Friday, January 27, 1865

We are still on duty at the old fort, and everything is going well. The trains have now quit going to Beaufort and we expect to receive orders to leave soon.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 248

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Wednesday, October 4, 1862

While Anna and Miriam went out riding last evening, just as I put down my pen, I went out for a solitary walk down the road that Gibbes would have to pass; but saw nothing of the carriage. When I got back, they told me he was wounded. My fears were well founded, then. With what anxiety we waited for his coming it would be impossible to describe. Every wagon rattling through the fields made us stop and listen; every cane-stalk waving in the moonlight brought us to our feet.

At last, after supper, far off in the clear light we saw the carriage. I could not sit still. I walked down the steps and stood under the tree in front, followed by Anna. I did not like her to stand nearer the spot where it would stop than I, even. All the rest remained on the balcony. We did not know how serious the wound might be; we must be careful. Eugene Carter advised caution for more reasons than one. “Look out!” he cried; “suppose it should be Colonel Breaux?” “Then I am afraid the Colonel will get a kiss,” I answered nervously, shuffling from one foot to the other. “But suppose it is Mr. M–––?” he persisted. “Oh, thank you for the caution! I will look carefully before I greet him!” I returned, moving to the other side, for nearer around the circle moved the carriage. I heard his voice. “O Gibbes, where is it?” “Left shoulder; mere scratch,” he answered. The carriage stopped, “Gibbes! Gibbes!” I cried. “My darling!” and he had his great strong arm around me; the left was hanging in a sling. Slowly the others moved down the steps towards him. What a meeting! My heart was in my throat, I was so happy. Every one caught the well hand and kissed him again and again, and every one shrunk from that left side. I had almost forgotten my “dear Lydia" in my excitement. We followed him on the balcony and put him in a chair near the steps. I pulled off his hat and coat, and knelt in front of him with my arm across his lap, to get near enough. Miriam stood on the steps with his arm around her shoulder, and Lydia near. The others stood around; altogether, it was a happy group that performed in the tableau of “The Soldier's Return.” Presently the negroes gathered too. “How is you, Mass’ Gibbes?” in all imaginable keys and accents was heard, while the Captain shook hands with each and inquired into their own state of health.

But even wounded soldiers can eat; so supper was again prepared. I am afraid it gave me too much pleasure to cut up his food. It was very agreeable to butter his cornbread, carve his mutton, and spread his preserves; but I doubt whether it could be so pleasant to a strong man, accustomed to do such small services for himself. We listened to him talk, but though it was evident from his slow, deliberate speech, so different from his ordinary habit, that he was suffering, yet I felt impatient when he was interrupted by any commonplace observation by one of us. I wanted to learn something of his exploits. Much knowledge I obtained! He was wounded at Sharpsburg on the 17th September, at nine in the morning. That is all the information I got concerning himself. One would imagine that the seventeen months that have elapsed since we last met had been passed in a prolonged picnic. Concerning others, he was quite communicative. Father Hubert told him he had seen George in the battle, and he had come out safe. Gibbes did not even know that he was in it, until then. Our army, having accomplished its object, recrossed the Potomac, after what was decidedly a drawn battle. Both sides suffered severely. Hardly an officer on either side escaped unhurt. Mr. McGimsey is wounded, and; Major Herron reported killed. I expect the list will contain the names of many friends when it comes.

I have just come from seeing Gibbes's wound dressed. If that is a scratch, Heaven defend me from wounds! A minié ball struck his left shoulder strap, which caused it to glance, thereby saving the bone. Just above, in the fleshy part, it tore the flesh off in a strip three inches and a half by two. Such a great raw, green, pulpy wound, bound around by a heavy red ridge of flesh! Mrs. Badger, who dressed it, turned sick; Miriam turned away groaning; servants exclaimed with horror; it was the first experience of any, except Mrs. Badger, in wounds. I wanted to try my nerves; so I held the towel around his body and kept the flies off while it was being washed. He talked all the time, ridiculing the groans of sympathy over a “scratch,” and oh, how I loved him for his fortitude! It is so offensive that the water trickling on my dress has obliged me to change it.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 250-3

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Thursday, January 26, 1865

It is still clear and quite cool with the wind from the northwest. This is the coldest day we have had this winter here in the South, yet there is no ice even in a bucket of water.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 248

Captain Charles Fessenden Morse, January 10, 1863

Camp Near Fairfax Station,

January 10, 1863.

Our rainy season has begun at last, I think; to-day it has poured. Everything looks muddy and damp enough. If it continues for a week as it did last winter at this time, mark my words, there will be no more campaigning in Virginia this winter. We are well settled now in a comfortable camp, with a strong probability of staying here for a while.

I agree in part with what you say about the administration, but I don't fear an armed interference in six months or six years. 1 feel certain that England will do nothing but stand aloof and badger both the North and South, and it cannot be policy for France to quarrel with us, it seems to me. As for what foreign nations may think of the corruption of the Government, I don't care; I've made up my mind that there never was a government in time of war, European or any other on the face of the earth, that wasn't as corrupt as corruption itself; all history shows it. If Napier in his “Peninsular War” is good authority, there never were more dishonesty, knavery, and bribery in a government than there were in England's at that time. That war was managed, at first, till Wellington took hold of it, very much as ours has been; generals were interfered with as ours have been, and newpapers’ stories and home criticisms were believed by the people sooner than official dispatches.

From the first of March to the first of June, I predict that there will be the liveliest fighting we have ever seen in this country, and with good fortune, we may end the whole war and have a happy and honorable peace. If we had any other than a conquered peace, I should never feel that I had done with my uniform, but should always expect war and fighting. If the South got its confederacy, I fully believe the States would be fighting among themselves in less than five years; it is the strong military government and their feeling about slavery that is binding them together so now; their strong feeling about States' rights is what they will break on. I think the weakest points in our own government are these very States' rights, which allow State Governors to interfere and dictate to the Central Government.*

_______________

* A ten-days' leave of absence was granted about this time and the writer went home accompanied by Captain Shaw.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 118-9

Major Wilder Dwight: November 20, 1861

camp Near Seneca, November 20, 1861.

I have just come in from a walk through the camp at night. The cooks are busy over to-morrow's dinner. Picking and dressing turkeys, and preparing the large, glowing ovens for roasting. The irregularity is overlooked, in view of the occasion. The preparations are so vast that the dinner will be cooking nearly all night. I shall be able to give you the statistics to-morrow. To-night I only know that it looks as if an army were to be fed with turkey, and another one with plum-pudding. The scene is a busy and gay one. I have also been to see my sick charges. Incongruous scenes for such close association! but we happen to have both pictures at once in camp. Still, I think we grow better, and have only thankfulness and hope for to-morrow.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 152-3

Major Wilder Dwight: Thursday, November 21, 1861, 2:30 p.m.

Thursday, half past two o'clock.

Letter-writing after Thanksgiving dinner! What an absurdity! Yet here goes. I must rise on the wings of imagination, invoking also the exhilaration of champagne, to give you a glance at our day. The morning rose red and glorious. The camp was gay, and the men all jovial and willing. Last evening I published an order reciting the Governor's Thanksgiving order, and General Banks's order, and telling the Second Massachusetts that' Thanksgiving day would be observed and kept by the officers and men of this regiment. There will be religious services at ten o'clock, to be followed by the usual Thanksgiving dinner. It is hoped that the officers and men of the regiment will unite in reviving all the memories and associations which belong to the time-honored home festival of New England, and in public thanksgiving and praise for all the blessings which have followed them since they left the homes which this festival recalls.'

Such was my programme. At ten o'clock the sun was bright, and the morning like summer. We had a service. The reading of the Proclamation, the singing of praise by a full, deep-toned choir, a jubilant, patriotic awakening, exhortation from our chaplain, then a gay march by the band, which followed the benediction, hastened the steps of the companies as they returned to their quarters. I then immediately got into the saddle and rode off to see the Adjutant and Captains Savage and Mudge, whom I sent yesterday to the hospitable shelter of houses up at Darnestown. Found them all well and happy, and recovering. Came back, visited the kitchens. Turkeys and plum-pudding smoked and fragranced from them. Tables were built by some of the companies. A New England turkey-shooting was going on. Companies B and C bore off the crown of victory and the turkeys. I then went over to Colonel Andrews. Then I came back to half an hour's business, and so to dinner. A brisk, appetizing morning. But before I speak of our own dinner, let me give you the statistics, the startling statistics of our regimental dinner. Hear it: —

	Turkeys.	Geese.	Chickens.	Plum-Puddings.
	95 10½ lbs.	76 8½ lbs.	73	95
Weight	997½ lbs.	646 lbs.	164¾ lbs.	1179 lbs.

In other words, about half a ton of turkey, nearly as much goose and chicken, and more than half a ton of plum-pudding. There's richness, as Mr. Squeers would say. The statement shows at once, presumed digestion, appetite, and courage. It is hopeful, — or will it prove the rashness of despair? But then our own dinner, included in this general statement, was as follows: —

A twenty-pound turkey, etc., and a vast plum-pudding, and no end of apple-pies, etc. I ought to add, that many of the companies had their nuts and raisins and apples. What luxury! We sat down, a small party, — the Chaplain, the Doctor, the Chaplain of the Twelfth, and myself. Tony, or Antonio Olivadoes, our ambitious and clever cook, was radiant over the fire. He had spent most of the night in culinary constancy to his puddings and pies. He invoked attention to his turkey. 'Well now, Major, considerin' the want o' conveniences and fixins, I think it'll taste kind o' good'; and so it did. I opened a bottle of champagne, a present, and gave my toast, “Luck and absent friends.” So we drank it, and it cheered our somewhat narrow circle. The men are now playing ball, and it will not be long before dress-parade and company duty will replace our Thanksgiving sensations. Never mind, we've had a good time, and a good time under a few difficulties, which, I think, only sweetened our pleasure. Such is our Thanksgiving chronicle. I like to sit and fancy your home dinner, and to preside, in imagination, over the boiled turkey at the foot of the table. I hope our next Thanksgiving we may be all together; but if not, at least we can hope to be all as thankful as now. Tony, the cook, just puts his head into my tent, with conscious achievement in his eye: “Well, Major how you like de dinner? I was up all night, — five minutes chopping wood, five minutes cooking, — I did hope it would be nice.” I have just tickled his vanity, and he goes.

I think I may have a letter from you to-night, but this goes by the mail now. God bless you all at home, and good by.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 153-5

Samuel M. Felton to Captain M. Galloway, April 19, 1861

PHILADELPHIA, April 19th, 1861

Capt. M. GALLOWAY

DEAR SIR:

We have concluded to send the troops to Annapolis, and when the train arrives at Perryville with them, you will take them on board and proceed to Annapolis, and land them there at some convenient wharf, and then return with the greatest expedition to Havre de Grace. Have plenty coal on board and no cars on the upper deck. We shall have a large number of troops, and shall be obliged to let them occupy both decks. You will give them every attention, and promote their comfort in all ways possible. They are our mainstay now, and God speed them.

Yours truly,

S. M. FELTON

SOURCE: Jessie Ames Marshall, Editor, Private and Official Correspondence of Gen. Benjamin F. Butler During the Period of the Civil War, Volume 1: April 1860 – June 1862, p. 17

Executive Order, No. 2, Relating to Political Prisoners, February 27, 1862

Executive Order, No. 2, Relating to Political Prisoners.

WAR DEPARTMENT, Washington, February 27, 1862.

IT IS ORDERED:

First. That a special commission of two persons, one of military rank and the other in civil life, be appointed to examine the cases of the state prisoners remaining in the military custody of the United States and to determine whether in view of the public safety and the existing rebellion they should be discharged or remain in military custody or be remitted to the civil tribunals for trial.

Second. That Maj. Gen. John A. Dix, commanding in Baltimore, and the Hon. Edwards Pierrepont, of New York, be and they are hereby appointed commissioners for the purposes above mentioned, and they are authorized to examine, hear and determine the cases aforesaid ex parte and in a summary manner at such times and places as in their discretion they may appoint and make full report to the War Department.

By order of the President:

 EDWIN M. STANTON,

Secretary of War.

SOURCES: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series II, Volume 2 (Serial No. 115), p. 249; Morgan Dix, Memoirs of John Adams Dix, Volume 2, p. 42

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes: March 13, 1862

Camp Hayes, Raleigh, Virginia, March 13, 1862.

Dearest: — I came up last night just as the regiment was forming for dress parade. For the first time in months we are all together; health good; ranks very full. Oh! it was a beautiful sight; we had plenty of cheering, music, and our best marching. The men were never in finer condition. You would enjoy seeing the Twenty-third now; well dressed, bravely looking, and soldier-like.

We expect to remain here until a forward movement is made — perhaps two to four weeks, possibly longer. Dr. Joe very well and in good spirits. My new Webby still does finely. It is just daylight. Captain Slocum who left us at Camp Chase, has visited us and goes home this morning. Love to all.

Most affectionately, your

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 206-7

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Sunday, April 5, 1863

Mr Zorn, or Don Pablo as he is called here, Her Majesty's acting Vice-Consul, is a quaint and most good-natured little man — a Prussian by birth. He is overwhelmed by the sudden importance he has acquired from his office, and by the amount of work (for which he gets no pay) entailed by it,— the office of British Consul having been a comparative sinecure before the war.

Mr Behnsen is head of the firm. The principal place of business is at San Luis Potosi, a considerable city in the interior of Mexico. All these foreign merchants complain bitterly of the persecutions and extortion they have to endure from the Government, which are, doubtless, most annoying; but nevertheless they appear to fatten on the Mexican soil.

I crossed to Brownsville to see General Bee, but he had not returned from Boca del Bio.

I dined with Mr Oetling. We were about fourteen at dinner, principally Germans, a very merry party. Mr Oetling is supposed to have made a million of dollars for his firm, by bold cotton speculations, since the war.

We all went to the theatre afterwards. The piece was an attack upon the French and upon Southern institutions.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three months in the southern states: April-June, 1863, p. 10-11

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 11, 1862

The enemy are at Fredericksburg, and the Yankee papers say it will be all over with us by the 15th of June. I doubt that.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 119

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: March 12, 1865

Better to-day. A long, long weary day in grief has passed away. I suppose General Chesnut is somewhere—but where? that is the question. Only once has he visited this sad spot, which holds, he says, all that he cares for on earth. Unless he comes or writes soon I will cease, or try to cease, this wearisome looking, looking, looking for him.

SOURCES: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 364

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: December 6, 1863

I this morning attended the funeral of Mr. John Seddon, brother of the Secretary of War. It was a most solemn occasion; he was a man of fine talents and high character. The Rev. Dr. Moore, of the Presbyterian Church, preached a most beautiful sermon.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 246-7