Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 14, 1862

There will soon be hard fighting on the Peninsula.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 120

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: March 21, 1865

CHESTER, S. C. – Another flitting has occurred. Captain Ogden came for me; the splendid Childs was true as steel to the last. Surely he is the kindest of men. Captain Ogden was slightly incredulous when I depicted the wonders of Colonel Childs's generosity. So I skilfully led out the good gentleman for inspection, and he walked to the train with us. He offered me Confederate money, silver, and gold; and finally offered to buy our cotton and pay us now in gold. Of course, I laughed at his overflowing bounty, and accepted nothing; but I begged him to come down to Chester or Camden and buy our cotton of General Chesnut there.

On the train after leaving Lincolnton, as Captain Ogden is a refugee, has had no means of communicating with his home since New Orleans fell, and was sure to know how refugees contrive to live, I beguiled the time acquiring information from him. “When people are without a cent, how do they live?” I asked. “I am about to enter the noble band of homeless, houseless refugees, and Confederate pay does not buy one's shoe-strings.” To which he replied, “Sponge, Sponge. Why did you not let Colonel Childs pay your bills?” “I have no bills,” said I. “We have never made bills anywhere, not even at home, where they would trust us, and nobody would trust me in Lincolnton.” “Why did you not borrow his money? General Chesnut could pay him at his leisure?” “I am by no means sure General Chesnut will ever again have any money,” said I.

As the train rattled and banged along, and I waved my handkerchief in farewell to Miss Middleton, Isabella, and other devoted friends, I could only wonder if fate would ever throw me again with such kind, clever, agreeable, congenial companions? The McLeans refused to be paid for their rooms. No plummet can sound the depths of the hospitality and kindness of the North Carolina people.

Misfortune dogged us from the outset. Everything went wrong with the train. We broke down within two miles of Charlotte, and had to walk that distance; which was pretty rough on an invalid barely out of a fever. My spirit was further broken by losing an invaluable lace veil, which was worn because I was too poor to buy a cheaper one—that is, if there were any veils at all for sale in our region.

My husband had ordered me to a house in Charlotte kept by some great friends of his. They established me in the drawing-room, a really handsome apartment; they made up a bed there and put in a washstand and plenty of water, with everything refreshingly clean and nice. But it continued to be a public drawing-room, open to all, so that I was half dead at night and wanted to go to bed. The piano was there and the company played it.

The landlady announced, proudly, that for supper there were nine kinds of custard. Custard sounded nice and light, so I sent for some, but found it heavy potato pie. I said: “Ellen, this may kill me, though Dover's powder did not.” “Don't you believe dat, Missis; try.” We barricaded ourselves in the drawing-room that night and left the next day at dawn. Arrived at the station, we had another disappointment; the train was behind time. There we sat on our boxes nine long hours; for the cars might come at any moment, and we dared not move an inch from the spot.

Finally the train rolled in overloaded with paroled prisoners, but heaven helped us: a kind mail agent invited us, with two other forlorn women, into his comfortable and clean mail-car. Ogden, true to his theory, did not stay at the boarding-house as we did. Some Christian acquaintances took him in for the night. This he explained with a grin.

My husband was at the Chester station with a carriage. We drove at once to Mrs. Da Vega's.

SOURCES: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 367-9

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: Sunday, January 1, 1864

A melancholy pause in my diary. After returning from church on the night of the 13th, a telegram was handed me from Professor Minor, of the University of Virginia, saying, “Come at once, Colonel Colston is extremely ill.” After the first shock was over, I wrote an explanatory note to Major Brewer, why I could not be at the office next day, packed my trunk, and was in the cars by seven in the morning. That evening I reached the University, and found dear R. desperately ill with pneumonia, which so often follows, as in the case of General Jackson, the amputation of limbs. Surgeons Davis and Cabell were in attendance, and R's uncle, Dr. Brockenbrough, arrived the next day. After ten days of watching and nursing, amid alternate hopes and fears, we saw our friend Dr. Maupin close our darling's eyes, on the morning of the 23d; and on Christmas-day a military escort laid him among many brother soldiers in the Cemetery of the University of Virginia. He died in the faith of Christ, and with the glorious hope of immortality. His poor mother is heart-stricken, but she, together with his sisters, and one dearer still, had the blessed, and what is now the rare privilege, of soothing and nursing him in his last hours. To them, and to us all, his life seemed as a part of our own. His superior judgment and affectionate temper made him the guide of his whole family. To them his loss can never be supplied. His country has lost one of its earliest and best soldiers. Having been educated at the Virginia Military Institute, he raised and drilled a company in his native County of Berkeley, at the time of the John Brown raid. In 1861 he again led that company to Harper's Ferry. From that time he was never absent more than a week or ten days from his command, and even when wounded at Gaines's Mills, he absented himself but three days, and was again at his post during the several last days of those desperate fights. His fatal wound was received in his nineteenth general engagement, in none of which had he his superior in bravery and devotion to the cause. He was proud of belonging to the glorious Stonewall Brigade, and I have been told by those who knew the circumstances, that he was confided in and trusted by General Jackson to a remarkable degree.

Thus we bury, one by one, the dearest, the brightest, the best of our domestic circles. Now, in our excitement, while we are scattered, and many of us homeless, these separations are poignant, nay, overwhelming; but how can we estimate the sadness of heart which will pervade the South when the war is over, and we are again gathered together around our family hearths and altars, and find the circles broken? One and another gone. Sometimes the father and husband, the beloved head of the household, in whom was centred all that made life dear. Again the eldest son and brother of the widowed home, to whom all looked for guidance and direction; or, perhaps, that bright youth, on whom we had not ceased to look as still a child, whose fair, beardless cheek we had but now been in the habit of smoothing with our hands in fondness—one to whom mother and sisters would always give the good-night kiss, as his peculiar due, and repress the sigh that would arise at the thought that college or business days had almost come to take him from us. And then we will remember the mixed feeling of hope and pride when we first saw this household pet don his jacket of gray and shoulder his musket for the field; how we would be bright and cheerful before him, and turn to our chambers to weep oceans of tears when he is fairly gone. And does he, too, sleep his last sleep? Does our precious one fill a hero's grave? 0 God! help us, for the wail is in the whole land!" Rachel weeping for her children, and will not be comforted, because they are not." In all the broad South there will be scarcely a fold without its missing lamb, a fireside without its vacant chair. And yet we must go on. It is our duty to rid our land of invaders; we must destroy the snake which is endeavouring to entwine us in its coils, though it drain our heart's blood. We know that we are right in the sight of God, and that we must

“With patient mind our course of duty run.

God nothing does, or suffers to be done,

But we would do ourselves, if we could see

The end of all events as well as He."

The Lord reigneth, be the earth never so unquiet.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 248-50

Lydia McLane Johnston: March 15, 1865

Charlotte, North Carolina, March 15th, 1865,

Charlotte is in a state of great excitement to-day, at the arrival of the President's family, on their way South. What does it mean? Everybody seems to think it is the prelude to the abandonment of Richmond. How sad it seems after such a struggle as that noble army has made to keep it! These terrible dark hours, when will they be past?

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 241-2

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Thursday, October 16, 1862

It seems an age since I have opened this book. How the time has passed since, I have but a vague idea, beyond that it has passed very pleasantly. . . . Once since, I have been with Mrs. Badger to a Mr. Powell, who has started quite an extensive shoemaking establishment, in the vain attempt to get something to cover my naked feet. I am so much in need that I have been obliged to borrow Lydia's shoes every time I have been out since she returned. This was my second visit there, and I have no greater satisfaction than I had at first. He got my measure, I got his promise, and that is the end of it, thus far. His son, a young man of about twenty-four, had the cap of his knee shot off at Baton Rouge. Ever since he has been lying on his couch, unable to stand; and the probability is that he will never stand again. Instead of going out to the manufactory, Mrs. Badger has each time stopped at the house to see his mother (who, by the way, kissed me and called me “Sissie,” to my great amusement) and there I have seen this poor young man. He seems so patient and resigned that it is really edifying to be with him. He is very communicative, too, and seems to enjoy company, no matter if he does say “her’n” and “his’n.” Wonder why he doesn't say “shisen” too? The girls are highly amused at the description I give of my new acquaintance, but still more so at Mrs. Badger's account of the friendship of this poor young cripple, and his enjoyment of my visits. Of course it is only her own version, as she is very fond of jokes of all kinds.

Night before last Lydia got playing the piano for me in the darkened parlor, and the old tunes from her dear little fingers sent me off in a sea of dreams. She too caught the vision, and launched off in a well-remembered quadrille. The same scene flashed on us, and at each note, almost, we would recall a little circumstance, charming to us, but unintelligible to Anna, who occupied the other side. Together we talked over the dramatis persona. Mrs. Morgan, Jr., in dark blue silk with black flounces, a crimson chenille net on her black hair, sits at the piano in her own parlor. On the Brussels carpet stands, among others, Her Majesty, Queen Miriam, in a lilac silk, with bare neck and arms save for the protection afforded by a bertha of appliqué lace trimmed with pink ribbon, with hair à la madonna, and fastened low on her neck. Is she not handsome as she stands fronting the folding doors, her hand in tall Mr. Trezevant's, just as she commences to dance, with the tip of her black bottine just showing? Vis-à-vis stands pretty Sophie, with her large, graceful mouth smiling and showing her pretty teeth to the best advantage. A low neck and short-sleeved green and white poplin is her dress, while her black hair, combed off from her forehead carelessly, is caught by a comb at the back and falls in curls on her shoulders. A prettier picture could not be wished for, as she looks around with sparkling eyes, eager for the dance to begin. There stands calm Dena in snuff-colored silk, looking so immeasurably the superior of her partner, who, I fancy, rather feels that she is the better man of the two, from his nervous way of shifting from one foot to the other, without saying a word to her. Nettie, in lilac and white, stands by the mantel laughing undisguisedly at her partner, rather than with him, yet so good-humoredly that he cannot take offense, but rather laughs with her. Lackadaisical Gertrude, whose face is so perfect in the daytime, looks pale and insipid by gaslight, and timidly walks through the dance. Stout, good-natured Minna smiles and laughs, never quite completing a sentence, partly from embarrassment, partly because she hardly knows how; but still so sweet and amiable that one cannot find fault with her for so trifling a misfortune. At this point, Lydia suggests, “And Sarah, do you forget her?” I laugh; how could I forget? There she stands in a light blue silk checked in tiny squares, with little flounces up to her knee. Her dress fits well, and she wears very pretty sleeves and collar of appliqué. Lydia asks if that is all, and how she looks. The same old song, I answer. She is looking at Miriam just now; you would hardly notice her, but certainly her hair is well combed. That is all you can say for her. Who is she dancing with? A youth fond of "dreams"; futile ones, at that, I laughingly reply. He must be relating one just now, for there is a very perceptible curl on her upper lip, and she is looking at him as though she thought she was the tallest. Lydia dashes off into a lively jig. “Ladies to the right!” I cried. She laughed too, well knowing that that part of the dance was invariably repeated a dozen times at least. She looked slyly up: “I am thinking of how many hands I saw squeezed,” she said. I am afraid it did happen, once or twice.

Eighteen months ago! What a change! One who was prominent on such occasions — Mr. Sparks — they tell me is dead. May God have mercy on his soul, in the name of Jesus Christ! I did not ask even this revenge.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 256-60

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Monday, January 30, 1865

We marched about three miles this morning and then went into bivouac to await further orders. The report is that we are now ready to make the grand raid through South Carolina. The Seventeenth and Fifteenth Corps are to form the right wing, as in the campaign through Georgia, with General O. O. Howard in command. General Slocum is in command of the left wing, composed of the other two corps, the Fourteenth and Twentieth, while Kilpatrick's cavalry will take the flanks as rear guard. General Sherman is in chief command. General Foster, it is said, is either to remain here or move to Charleston.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 249

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, January 31, 1865

We remained in bivouac all day and have heard no news. We drew some clothing today. Our camp is located about thirty miles northwest of Beaufort. The country is very level and heavily timbered, chiefly with pine. It is thinly settled and the farms are small with nothing of consequence raised on them. The people are poor, the women and children being left destitute, as the men have all gone off to the war.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 249

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Wednesday, February 1, 1865

We left camp early this morning for the grand raid through South Carolina, under the command of General Sherman. But our march will not be an easy one, for the rebels will do their best to hold us in check. There are one hundred thousand men within a radius of twenty miles, and there's no telling how the campaign will end or who will be left dead or mortally wounded upon the field without a friend near. Cannon began booming in less than an hour, but we had no losses today. We moved fo[r]ward about eight miles through Whiffy Swamp, driving the rebels all the way. On account of the bad road we had to travel, our division could not keep up with the rest of the corps, but went into camp about four miles in the rear. The Fifteenth Corps came up on our left to Hicky Hill, making a march of twenty miles.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 249

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Saturday, October 11, 1862

Miriam went off to Clinton before daylight yesterday, with Mr. Carter and Mrs. Worley. She would not let me go for fear mother should keep us. At midnight they got back last night, tired, sleepy, and half-frozen, for our first touch of cool weather came in a strong north wind in the evening which grew stronger and stronger through the night, and they had worn only muslin dresses. I shall never cease to regret that I did not go too. Miriam says mother is looking very sad. Sad, and I am trying to forget all our troubles, and am so happy here! O mother, how selfish it was to leave you! I ask myself whether it were best to stay there where we would only be miserable without adding anything to your comfort or pleasure, or to be here, careless and happy while you are in that horrid hole so sad and lonesome. According to my theory, Miriam would remind me that I say it is better to have three miserable persons than two happy ones whose happiness occasions the misery of the third. That is my doctrine only in peculiar cases; it cannot be applied to this one. I say that if, for example, Miriam and I should love the same person, while that person loved only me, rather than make her unhappy by seeing me marry him, I would prefer making both him and myself miserable, by remaining single. She says “Fudge!” which means, I suppose, nonsense. But our happiness here does not occasion mother's unhappiness. She would rather see us enjoying ourselves here than moping there. One proof is, that she did not suggest our return. She longs to get home, but cannot leave poor Lilly alone, for Charlie is in Granada. Oh, how willingly I would return to the old wreck of our home! All its desolation could not be half so unendurable as Clinton. But Lilly cannot be left. Poor Lilly! When I look at her sad young face, my heart bleeds for her. With five helpless little children to care for, is she not to be pitied? I think that such a charge, in such dreadful days, would kill me. How patiently she bears it!

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 255-6

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, January 29, 1865

Our company left camp in the old fort at 10 o'clock and reached the brigade headquarters at Garden Corners about noon. Our entire division then moved forward about ten miles and went into bivouac for the night. The roads were fine for marching, having had no rain for four days.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 249

Captain Charles Fessenden Morse, February 12, 1863

Camp Near Stafford C. H., Va.,

February 12, 1863.

Tuesday I rode over with Major Mudge to the First Massachusetts Cavalry; we found our friends there well and glad to see us. Lieut.-Col. Curtis has been laid up with a lame leg from a horse's kick, but was nearly right again. The same morning, Captain Shaw went off to go to work on his new command, the First Massachusetts Blacks. He has a hard piece of work before him, but I hope he will be entirely successful. The greatest doubts in my mind are whether the Northern negroes will enlist; I don't put much faith in them myself.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 120-1

Major Wilder Dwight: Monday Morning, November 25, 1861

Bright and cold. The snow, a thin coating, lay crisp and cold on the ground this morning. The air glistened; my fingers grow numb as I write about it. Our week commences.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 157

Captain Morris Miller to the Commanding Officers of New York and Massachusetts Regiments, April 20, 1861

ANNAPOLIS, MARYLAND, April 20th, 1861

To the Commd.g. Officers of New York

and Massachusetts Regiments

Having been entrusted by General Scott with the arrangements for transporting your Regiments hence to Washington City, and it being impracticable to procure cars, I recommend that the troops remain on board the steamer until further orders can be received from General Scott.

Very Respectfully,MORRIS MILLER,

Capt. and A. Qua. Master

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 16, 1862

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

August 16,1862.

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

General,—I have received your letter of the 14th instant, with a list of prisoners sent by you to Fort Wool, and a brief statement of the charges against them. This is the first specification of their offences I have seen, and I know that several citizens have been sent here without any memorandum of the causes for which they were imprisoned.

The crimes specified by you as having been committed by Secessionists in general deserve any punishment we may think proper to inflict. But the first question is, in every case of imprisonment, whether the party has actually been guilty of any offence; and this is a question to be decided upon proper evidence. If the guilt is not clearly shown the accused should be released. There is nothing in your position or mine which can excuse either of us for depriving any man of his liberty without a full and impartial examination. My duties are at least as arduous as yours, and I have never shrunk from the labor of a personal examination of every case of imprisonment for which I am responsible.

In regard to arrests in your command, there was at least one, and I think more, for which there was not, in my judgment, the slightest cause. I speak from a personal examination of them. The arrests were made without your order, as I understood, but acquiesced in by you subsequently. The parties referred to were released nearly a month ago. Had I not looked into their cases they would, no doubt, have been in prison at this very moment. When Judge Pierrepont and I examined the cases of political prisoners in their various places of custody from Washington to Fort Warren, we found persons arrested by military officers who had been overlooked, and who had been lying in prison for months without any just cause. For this reason, as well as on general principles of justice and humanity, I must insist that every person arrested shall have a prompt examination, and, if it is considered a proper case for imprisonment, that the testimony shall be taken under oath, and the record sent, with the accused, to the officer who is to have the custody of him. This is especially necessary when the commitment is made by a military commission, and the party accused is sent to a distance and placed, like the prisoners at Fort Wool, under the immediate supervision of the commanding officer of the Department or Army Corps. The only proper exception to the rule is where persons are temporarily detained during military movements, in order that they may not give information to the enemy. I consider it my duty to go once in three or four weeks to the places of imprisonment within my command, inquire into the causes of arrest, and discharge all prisoners against whom charges, sustained by satisfactory proof, are not on file. I did not enter into a minute examination of the prisoners sent here by your order, nor did I release any one of them, but referred the whole matter to you for explanation; and it is proper to suggest that an imputation of undue susceptibility on my part, or a general reprobation of the conduct of faithless citizens, for whom when their guilt is clearly shown I have quite as little sympathy as yourself, is not an answer to the question of culpability in special cases. The paper you sent me is very well as far as it goes, but it is no more complete, without a transcript of the evidence on which the allegations are founded, than a memorandum of the crime and the sentence of a military prisoner would be without the record of the proceedings of the Court. You will please, therefore, send to me the testimony taken by the military commissions before whom the examination was made.

It is proper to remark here that a military commission not appointed by the commanding General of the Army or the Army Corps is a mere court of inquiry, and its proceedings can only be regarded in the light of information for the guidance of the officer who institutes it, and on whom the whole responsibility of any action under them must, from the necessity of the case, devolve.

In regard to persons whom you think right to arrest and detain under your immediate direction I have nothing to say. You are personally responsible for them; and, as your attention will be frequently called to them, the duration of their imprisonment will be likely to be influenced by considerations which might be overlooked if they were at a distance. I am, therefore, quite willing to leave them in your hands. But when a prisoner is sent here, and comes under my immediate observation and care, I wish the whole case to be presented to me.

The Engineer Department has called on me to remove the prisoners from Fort Wool, that the work may not be interrupted. I have sent away all the military prisoners, and wish to dispose of those who are confined for political causes. When I have received from you a full report of the cases which arose under your command I will dispose of them, and send to you all the persons whom I do not release. Or, if you prefer it — and it would be much more satisfactory to me — I will send them all to you without going into any examination myself, and leave it to you to dispose of them as you think right. If you have no suitable guard-house, there is a jail near your head-quarters, where they may be securely confined.

I am, respectfully, your obedient servant,

john A. Dix.

SOURCE: Morgan Dix, Memoirs of John Adams Dix, Volume 2, p. 44-6

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to [Brigadier-General Jacob D. Cox (?)], March 14, 1862

Headquarters, Camp Hayes, Raleigh, Virginia,

March 14, 1862.

Sir: — A scouting party consisting of Sergeant A. H. Bixler, and seven men belonging to Captain George W. Gilmore's Company C, First Virginia Cavalry, was this morning attacked about seven miles from Raleigh on the pike leading to Princeton, by about fifty bushwhackers. Sergeant Bixler and Private James Noble were killed. Privates Jacob McCann and Johnson Mallory were dangerously wounded, and Private Thomas B. Phillips was taken prisoner. Three escaped unhurt. The attacking party rendezvous on Flat Top Mountain. Major Hildt will, perhaps, recognize the names of some of them. Christ Lilley, Daniel Meadows, and Joshua Rowls were certainly of the party.

On hearing of the affair I dispatched Captain Gilmore with his cavalry, and Captain Drake with three companies of infantry to the scene of the occurrence. They found that the bushwhackers had instantly fled to their fastnesses in the hills, barely stopping long enough to get the arms of the dead and to rob them of their money. Captain Drake followed them until they were found to have scattered. Two horses were killed, one captured, one wounded, and one lost. Vigilant efforts will be made to ascertain the hiding-places of the bushwhackers and when found, unless orders to the contrary shall be received, all houses and property in the neighborhood which can be destroyed by fire, will be burned, and all men who can be identified as of the party will be killed, whether found in arms or not.

Will you direct the brigade quartermaster to procure tents enough for Captain McIlrath's Company A, Twenty-third Regiment O. V. I., as soon as practicable, and send that company here as soon as the tents arrive. There will be no quarters for them until the tents are obtained.

I desire to have your views in the premises.

Respectfully,

R. B. Hayes,

Lieutenant-colonel Twenty-third Regiment O. V. I.,

Commanding.

[general J. D. Cox (?)]

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 208-9

Diary of William Howard Russell: April 25, 1861

Sent off my letters by an English gentleman, who was taking despatches from Mr. Bunch to Lord Lyons, as the post-office is becoming a dangerous institution. We hear of letters being tampered with on both sides. Adams's Express Company, which acts as a sort of express post under certain conditions, is more trustworthy; but it is doubtful how long communications will be permitted to exist between the two hostile nations, as they may now be considered.

Dined with Mr. Petigru, who had most kindly postponed his dinner party till my return from the plantations, and met there General Beauregard, Judge King, and others, among whom, distinguished for their esprit and accomplishments, were Mrs. King and Mrs. Carson, daughters of my host. The dislike, which seems innate, to New England is universal, and varies only in the form of its expression. It is quite true Mr. Petigru is a decided Unionist, but he is the sole specimen of the genus in Charleston, and he is tolerated on account of his rarity. As the witty, pleasant old man trots down the street, utterly unconscious of the world around him, he is pointed out proudly by the Carolinians as an instance of forbearance on their part, and as a proof, at the same time, of popular unanimity of sentiment.

There are also people who regret the dissolution of the Union — such as Mr. Huger, who shed tears in talking of it the other night; but they regard the fact very much as they would the demolition of some article which never can be restored and reunited, which was valued for the uses it rendered and its antiquity.

General Beauregard is apprehensive of an attack by the Northern “fanatics” before the South is prepared, and he considers they will carry out coercive measures most rigorously. He dreads the cutting of the levees, or high artificial works, raised along the whole course of the Mississippi, for many hundreds of miles above New Orleans, which the Federals may resort to in order to drown the plantations and ruin the planters.

We had a good-humored argument in the evening about the ethics of burning the Norfolk navy yard. The Southerners consider the appropriation of the arms, moneys, and stores of the United States as rightful acts, inasmuch as they represent, according to them, their contribution, or a portion of it, to the national stock in trade. When a State goes out of the Union she should be permitted to carry her forts, armaments, arsenals, &c, along with her, and it was a burning shame for the Yankees to destroy the property of Virginia at Norfolk. These ideas, and many like them, have the merit of novelty to English people, who were accustomed to think there were such things as the Union and the people of the United States.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 136-7

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Wednesday, April 8, 1863

Poor Don Pablo was “taken ill” at breakfast, and was obliged to go to bed. We were all much distressed at his illness, which was brought on by over-anxiety connected with his official duties; and the way he is bothered by English and “Blue-nose”¹ skippers is enough to try any one.

Mr Behnsen and Mr Colville returned from Bagdad this afternoon, much disgusted with the attractions of that city.

General Bee's orderly was assaulted in Matamoros yesterday by a renegado with a six-shooter. This circumstance prevented the General from coming to Matamoros as he had intended.

At 5 P.M. Captain Hancock and I crossed over to Brownsville, and were conducted in a very smart ambulance to General Bee's quarters, and afterwards to see a dress parade of the 3d Texas infantry.

Lieutenant-Colonel Buchel is the working man of the corps, as he is a professional soldier. The men were well clothed, though great variety existed in their uniforms. Some companies wore blue, some grey, some had French kepis, others wideawakes and Mexican hats. They were a fine body of men, and really drilled uncommonly well. They went through a sort of guard-mounting parade in a most creditable manner. About a hundred out of a thousand were conscripts.²

After the parade, we adjourned to Colonel Luckett's to drink prosperity to the 3d Regiment.

We afterwards had a very agreeable dinner with General Bee; Colonels Luckett and Buchel dined also. The latter is a regular soldier of fortune. He served in the French and Turkish armies, as also in the Carlist and the Mexican wars, and I was told he had been a principal in many affairs of honour; but he is a quiet and unassuming little man, and although a sincere Southerner, is not nearly so violent against the Yankees as Luckett.

At 10 P.M. Captain Hancock and myself went to a ball given by the authorities of the “Heroica y invicta ciudad de Matamoros” (as they choose to call it), in honour of the French defeat. General Bee and Colonel Luckett also went to this fete, the invitation being the first civility they had received since the violation of the Mexican soil in the Davis-Mongomery affair. They were dressed in plain clothes, and carried pistols concealed in case of accidents.

We all drove together from Brownsville to the Consulate, and entered the ball-room en masse.

The outside of the municipal hall was lit up with some splendour, and it was graced by a big placard, on which was written the amiable sentiment, “Muera Napoleon—viva Mejico!” Semi-successful squibs and crackers were let off at intervals. In the square also was a triumphal arch, with an inscription to the effect that “the effete nations of Europe might tremble.” I made great friends with the gobernador and administrador, who endeavoured to entice me into dancing, but I excused myself by saying that Europeans were unable to dance in the graceful Mexican fashion. Captain Hancock was much horrified when this greasy-faced gobernador (who keeps a small shop) stated his intention of visiting the Immortality with six of his friends, and sleeping on board for a night or two.

The dances were a sort of slow valse, and between the dances the girls were planted up against the wall, and not allowed to be spoken to by any one. They were mostly a plain-headed, badly-painted lot, and ridiculously dressed.

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¹ Nova-Scotian.

² During all my travels in the South I never saw a regiment so well clothed or so well drilled as this one, which has never been in action, or been exposed to much hardship.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three months in the southern states: April-June, 1863, p. 15-18

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 13, 1862

Gen. Wise now resolved to ask for another command, to make another effort in defense of his country. But, when he waited upon the Secretary of War, he ascertained that there was no brigade for him. Returning from thence, some of his officers, who had escaped the trap at Roanoke, crowded round him to learn the issue of his application.

“There is no Secretary of War !” said he. “What is Randolph?” asked one.

“He is not Secretary of War!” said he; “he is merely a clerk, an underling, and cannot hold up his head in his humiliating position, He never will be able to hold up his head, sir.”

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 119 -20

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: March 15, 1865

Lawrence says Miss Chesnut is very proud of the presence of mind and cool self-possession she showed in the face of the enemy. She lost, after all, only two bottles of champagne, two of her brother's gold-headed canes, and her brother's horses, including Claudia, the brood mare, that he valued beyond price, and her own carriage, and a fly-brush boy called Battis, whose occupation in life was to stand behind the table with his peacock feathers and brush the flies away. He was the sole member of his dusky race at Mulberry who deserted “Ole Marster” to follow the Yankees.

Now for our losses at the Hermitage. Added to the gold-headed canes, and Claudia, we lost every mule and horse, and President Davis's beautiful Arabian was captured. John's were there, too. My light dragoon, Johnny, and heavy swell, is stripped light enough for the fight now. Jonathan, whom we trusted, betrayed us; and the plantation and mills, Mulberry house, etc., were saved by Claiborne, that black rascal, who was suspected by all the world. Claiborne boldly affirmed that Mr. Chesnut would not be hurt by destroying his place; the invaders would hurt only the negroes. “Mars Jeems," said he, "hardly ever come here and he takes only a little sompen nur to eat when he do come.'”

Fever continuing, I sent for St. Julien Ravenel. We had a wrangle over the slavery question. Then, he fell foul of everybody who had not conducted this war according to his ideas. Ellen had something nice to offer him (thanks to the ever-bountiful Childs!), but he was too angry, too anxious, too miserable to eat. He pitched into Ellen after he had disposed of me. Ellen stood glaring at him from the fireplace, her blue eye nearly white, her other eye blazing as a comet. Last Sunday, he gave her some Dover's powders for me; directions were written on the paper in which the medicine was wrapped, and he told her to show these to me, then to put what I should give her into a wine-glass and let me drink it. Ellen put it all into the wine-glass and let me drink it at one dose. “It was enough to last you your lifetime,” he said. “It was murder.” Turning to Ellen: “What did you do with the directions?” "I nuwer see no d'rections. You nuwer gimme none.” “I told you to show that paper to your mistress.” “Well, I flung dat ole brown paper in de fire. What you makin' all dis fuss for? Soon as I give Missis de physic, the stop frettin' an' flingin' 'bout, she go to sleep sweet as a suckling baby, an' she slep two days an' nights, an' now she heap better.” And Ellen withdrew from the controversy.

“Well, all is well that ends well, Mrs. Chesnut. You took opium enough to kill several persons. You were worried out and needed rest. You came near getting it — thoroughly. You were in no danger from your disease. But your doctor and your nurse combined were deadly.” Maybe I was saved by the adulteration, the feebleness, of Confederate medicine.

SOURCES: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 364-6

Brigadier-General James Chesnut Jr. to Mary Boykin Chesnut, March 15, 1865

[Chester Court House, March 15th, 1865]

In the morning I send Lieut. Ogden with Lawrence to Lincolnton to bring you down. I have three vacant rooms; one with bedsteads, chairs, washstands, basins, and pitchers; the two others bare. You can have half of a kitchen for your cooking. I have also at Dr. Da Vega's, a room, furnished, to which you are invited (board, also). You can take your choice. If you can get your friends in Lincolnton to assume charge of your valuables, only bring such as you may need here. Perhaps it will be better to bring bed and bedding and the other indispensables.

SOURCES: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 366