Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: Sunday, December 13, 1863

The first anniversary of the battle of Fredericksburg, where we lost so many valuable lives, and where the Federals were thoroughly whipped. Since that time we have lost many lives, which nothing can repay; but we hold our own, have had some victories, and have been upon the whole much blessed by God. At St. James's Church, this morning, and heard a very fine sermon from the Rev. Mr. Peterkin, from the text, “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” To-night we expect to hear Bishop Lay.

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

General Joseph E Johnston to Senator Louis T. Wigfall, March 14, 1865

raleigh, March 14th, 1865.

My dear Wigfall:

I have just received yours of February 27th. I have been for two weeks looking for an opportunity other than by mail, to send you a letter. But all are reported to me too late.

What you write me of Lee gratifies me beyond measure. In youth and early manhood I loved and admired him more than any man in the world. Since then we have had little intercourse and have become formal in our personal intercourse. A good deal, I think, from change of taste and habits, in one or the other. When we are together former feelings always return. I have long thought that he had forgotten our early friendship: to be convinced that I was mistaken in so thinking would give me inexpressible pleasure. Be assured, however, that Knight of old never fought under his King more loyally than I'll serve under Gen. Lee.¹ I have suggested to him what seems to be the only course for us, should Sherman endeavor to join Grant. . . .

As ever yours,

j. e. johnston.

_______________

¹ In another letter he speaks of serving under Gen. Lee “as loyally as my father served under his in the first revolution.”

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 240-1

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Thursday, October 9, 1862

It is astonishing what a quantity of fresh air has been consumed by me since I formed that wise resolution. The supply must be largely increased, to keep up with the demand; perhaps that is the cause of all these clouds and showers; I must be making a severe drain on the economy of heaven. From breakfast to dinner I remain on the balcony, and read aloud several chapters of the “Mémoires” of Dumas, by way of practice. A dictionary lies by me, and I suffer no word to pass without a perfect definition. Then comes my French grammar, which I study while knitting or sewing, which takes very nearly until dinner-time. After that, I do as I please, either reading or talking, until sunset when we can ride or walk; the walk being always sweetened with sugarcane. The evening we always spend on the balcony. Is that grand air enough? O mon teint! je serai joliment brune!

We three girls occupy the same room, since Gibbes's arrival, and have ever so much fun and not half enough sleep. I believe the other two complain of me as the cause; but I plead not guilty. I never was known to laugh aloud, no matter how intense might have been my mirth; “it won't come,” as Gibbes murmured last night while reading aloud Artemus Ward's last letter, when we discovered it was suppressed laughter, rather than suppressed pain, that caused him to writhe so. On the other hand, Anna and Miriam laugh as loud and lustily as daughters of the Titans — if the respectable gentlemen had daughters. I confess to doing more than half the talking, but as to the laugh that follows, not a bit. Last night I thought they would go wild, and I too laughed myself into silent convulsions, when I recited an early effusion of my poetic muse for their edification. Miriam made the bedstead prance, fairly, while Anna's laugh sounded like a bull of Bashan with his head in a bolster case.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 254-5

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Saturday, January 28, 1865

Our company received orders to move on to the front tomorrow. The weather is quite pleasant. Some of the trains of the Fifteenth Corps came in from the landing this evening, but the corps has not yet arrived.

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

Captain Charles Fessenden Morse, February 8, 1863

February 8, 1863.

What do you think of the First Massachusetts Black Infantry? I suppose there is no doubt but that the regiment will be raised; one of our captains^†  has had the offer of the colonelcy, and he has accepted it. As a military measure, I entirely believe in it, and I hope it will be entirely successful. It is ridiculous for persons to try and laugh this thing down; there is no reason in the world why black troops raised in this country shouldn't be as good as those used by the English and French. I always argue that any men who have understanding enough to obey orders implicitly, where they are led by brave officers, can make good soldiers. I think negroes could be more easily disciplined than most white men. The understanding, of course, is that all the commissioned officers shall be white. If I had anything to do with such a regiment, I should not want to raise much of it in the North, but get enough men there to form a skeleton, and then go South and fill up with contrabands.

You will probably hear before long who the Captain is, that I have referred to; he doesn't want it mentioned at present.

No one pretends to have an idea about our next campaign here in Virginia. I hope and trust that we shall all find ourselves with our right on the James River by the middle of next month, and that the Ninth Corps led off in that direction to-day, but these are only my hopes; I have nothing to ground them on.

_______________

^† Captain Robert G. Shaw.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 119-20

Major Wilder Dwight: Saturday Evening, November 23, 1861

Head-quarters Second Massachusetts Regiment,

Camp near Seneca, Nov. 23, 1861, Saturday Evening.

Yours of the 19th is in my pocket. The evening has passed pleasantly under its influence. The camp is fast falling asleep.

I last wrote you just after dinner on Thanksgiving day. The rest of the day went glibly enough. In the evening the men had a brisk dance to the music of the band, and the next morning there were fewer sick men than for two weeks before. Gladness and gayety are good medicines. Friday was a very busy day with me. Among its morning incidents was a visit to Generals Hamilton and Williams. General Williams quite won my affection by saying, apropos of the review, “The Massachusetts Second is the best volunteer regiment in the service.” “A man of sense,” was my echo. Our two new lieutenants, Grafton and Shelton, appeared yesterday, and were assigned to duty the next day. They were eager for duty, and promise well. Give Charley the stockings for his men by all means. I rejoice in his effort and success. I am amused to see that the London Times compares Ball's Bluff to Braddock's defeat. That was my first exclamation. A regular Braddock's defeat! Who was the Braddock? . . . .

I do not expect to come home at all. While there is anything to do here, I certainly shall not come. Indeed, I do not think I desire it. Three years or the war, was my enlistment; and I am willing to stay with my regiment while it lasts. . . . .

This morning's inspection took about two hours. It was a thorough one and satisfactory. We have church this afternoon, unless it rains, as it threatens to do.

For one, I have no sympathy with the prisoners at Fort Warren. I desire that all benevolence and sympathy may flow to our loyal soldiers, whose hardship is quite as great. As for Mason and Slidell, the joke is so good, so practical, so retributive. I admire the calm irony with which Mr. Everett wishes them a short residence at Fort Warren. That is clever and bright, and politely severe

I predicted church when I was writing this morning. Lo it is evening, and the ground white with snow! So winter steals upon us, and we have a snow-storm instead of divine service. Well, camp life has its variety, and is not always same. I confess, as I look out through the flapping door of my tent, I think it looks as little like invading the South as any scene I ever looked on. White and heavy falls the snow, — I hope on the unjust as well as the just, on both sides the Potomac! Now's the time for mittens with no holes in the thumbs I have quite a long letter from ——. She is full of the glory and spectacle aspect of the army and the war, her visit to Washington having taught her all about armies. I could give her a few practical lessons that would unidealize her abruptly. Never mind, to be illusionée is to be happy.

I hope, in view of the dread you express of my going to Charleston, where they fight “without giving quarter,” you will be pleased at the imminent prospect there seems to be that we shall be snowed into Maryland till spring. However, the weather is so fickle, we may have bright sunshine to-morrow.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 155-7

Samuel M. Felton: April 20, 1861

April 20th, 1861

The Ferry Boat is put into charge of General Butler, and he is authorized to change the programme laid down by me for Capt. Galloway.

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

Major-General John A. Dix to Brigadier-General Joseph K. F. Mansfield, August 12, 1862

Head-quarters, Seventh Army Corps, Fort Monroe, Va.,

August 12, 1862.

Brigadier-General J. K. [F]. Mansfield, commanding at Suffolk, Va.:

General,—I have read your instructions to your Provost-marshal, and think them right and proper.

I was yesterday at Fort Wool, and discharged a large number of prisoners on parole. I found quite a number from Nansemond and Gates Counties, and retain them for the purpose of communicating with you. I examined several of them, and am satisfied that they have committed no act of hostility against the United States. That they sympathize with the insurgents there is no doubt; but if we undertake to arrest all such persons, our forts and prisons would not contain a tithe of them. So long as they continue quietly about their business they should not be molested.

The exercise of this power of arrest is at the same time the most arbitrary and the most delicate which a state of war devolves on a military commander, and it is one which should not be delegated to a subordinate. I find that many of the persons imprisoned at Fort Wool were arrested by Colonel Dodge, and some of them on suspicion. This must not be repeated. Your subordinates may arrest persons detected in open nets of hostility to the Government. But in every other instance, and in every case, the order for arrest should come from you; or, if an arrest is made in an emergency without your order, the case should be brought directly before you, and the evidence taken before the party is sent here for imprisonment. Two of the persons sent to Fort Wool by you have died within the last three days — one of them Mr. Jordan, the most respectable of all in standing. His body goes to his friends in Norfolk to-day. Imprisonment at Fort Wool is a most severe punishment at this season. The water is bad, and the heat is intense; and no citizen should be sent there for a light cause, and without pretty clear evidence of guilt. If parties in your neighborhood need temporary restraint, you must find some place of safe keeping there, unless the case is very marked.

My inclination is to discharge all these persons on a stringent parole. But before doing so I await your reply, with your views on any particular case or cases.

I am, very respectfully, yours,

John A. Dix.

SOURCE: Morgan Dix, Memoirs of John Adams Dix, Volume 2, p. 43-4

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