Civil War Visions and Viewpoints

The Most Wretched and Abject People on the Face of the Earth

2012-02-23T12:22:00.001-06:00

This entry comes from A Gentleman and an Officer: A Military and Social History of James B. Griffin's Civil War, Judith N. McArthur and Orville Vernon Burton, eds., and can be found at

W.W. Norton and Company's website at: A Gentleman and and Officer .

"James B. Griffin (1825–1881) was not one of the towering figures of the Confederacy, nor was he simply a soldier in the ranks: he was a southern gentleman, like many others, who went to war to defend his rights and to liberate the South from the North's attempts to subjugate her." He was a lieutenant colonel at the time he wrote this letter, and was attended by two slaves, Ned and Abram.

In this excerpt Griffin imagines what life will be like if the North wins the war. . . .

Camp of the Legion
February 26th 1862

My Darling Leila

. . . We cannot see, My Darling, into the future, but I trust & have confidance in our people to believe, that if the unprincipled North shall persist in her policy of Subjugating the South, that we, who are able to resist them, will continue to do so, until we grow old and worn out in the service, and that then, our Sons will take the arms from our hands, and spend their lives, if necessary, in battling for Liberty and independence.

As for my part, If this trouble should not be settled satisfactorily to us sooner—I would be proud of the thought that our youngest Boy—Yes Darling little Jimmie, will after awhile be able and I trust willing to take his Father's place in the field, and fight until he dies, rather than, be a Slave, Yea worse than a Slave to Yankee Masters—

Have you ever anticipated, My Darling, what would be our probable condition, if we should be conquered in this war? The picture is really too horrible to contemplate. In the first place, the tremendous war tax, which will have accumulated, on the northern Government, would be paid entirely and exclusively by the property belonging to the Southerners. And more than this we would be an humbled, down trodden and disgraced, people. Not entitled to the respect of any body, and have no respect for ourselves. In fact we would be the most wretched and abject people on the face of the Earth. Just be what our Northern Masters say we may be. Would you, My Darling, desire to live, if this was the case? would you be willing to leave your Children under such a government? No—I know you would sacrifice every comfort on earth, rather than submit to it. . . .

A Confederate soldier, from the Library of Congress Collection

The Great Lever That Moves This World

2012-02-08T13:02:00.001-06:00

This entry comes from David White English, Private, Company E, Fifty-First Illinois Infantry, and the letter can be found in its entirety at the 51st Illinois Regiment Website.

English was an optimist, as you will see from excepts of his letter that follow.

While he was with his regiment, he was never sick, always there, and could be counted on. Then, on September 5, 1852 he was sent to the hospital and permanently discharged from the service 10 days later. It appears that he was kicked by a mule causing a double hernia.

Let not my going war depress your spirits in the least. You can always refer to it with pride that your good man, enlisted in the grand Army of the Union for the defense of our glorious country's flag which our fathers left us. Refer to it often to the children while I am gone, and have them read the histories of the wars which you have, viz: Daniel Boone, Davy Crockett and others, to see how our ancestors went through so many hardships while we apparently live at our ease, not fearing to be attacked by the enemy at any point, and when we make a blow, we take all their supplies, and as many of the enemy as possible escape with their lives, glad to abandon every thing for the sake of their own lives.

.. . .I will bring my letter to a close, appealing to you to stand by the great lever that moves this world of mankind - Hope - "hope on - hope ever." All things will come out right.

A portion of David White English's Letter

What Lincoln Ought To Know

2012-01-31T12:37:00.000-06:00

This entry is from the Letters of Lydia Maria Child. In a letter to John Greenleaf Whittier, Child mentions Harriet Tubman, a slave who escaped to freedom and who helped many others also escape. She did that -- and much more. Words of wisdom she has for the President are disclosed here.

January 21 1862

. . . You have doubtless heard of Harriet Tubman, whom they call Moses, on account of the multitude she has brought out of bondage by her courage and ingenuity. She talks politics sometimes, and her uncouth utterance is wiser than the plans of politicians.

She said the other day: "Dey may send de flower ob dair young men down South, to die ob de fever in de summer, and de agoo in de winter. (Fur 't is cold down dar, dough 't is down South.) Dey may send dem one year, two year, tree year, till dey tired ob sendin', or till dey use up all de young men. All no use! God's ahead ob Massa Linkum. God won't let Massa Linkum beat de South till he do de right ting. Massa Linkum he great man, and I'se poor nigger ; but dis nigger can tell Massa Linkum how to save de money and de young men. He do it by setting de niggers free. S'pose dar was awfu' big snake down dar, on de floor. He bite you. Polks all skeered, cause you die. You send for doctor to cut de bite; but snake he rolled up dar, and while doctor dwine it, he bite you agin. De doctor cut out dat bite; but while he dwine it, de snake he spring up and bite you agin, and so he keep dwine, till you kill him. Dat's what Massa Linkum orter know."

Harriet Tubman, from the Library of Congress Digital Collection

In Sore Need of a Furlough

2012-01-06T12:46:00.000-06:00

This entry is from The Life of Johnny Reb, The Common Soldier of the Confederacy by Bell Irvin Wiley. This story originally comes from Four Years in the Stonewall Brigade by John J. O. Casler.

A theatrical group from the Stonewall and Louisiana brigades wrote and presented a skit called the "Medical Board", satirizing the surgeons.

Te rise of the curtain revealed a group of doctors sitting about a table playing cards and drinking brandy. Presently inquiry is made as to how such good liquor is obtained in these hard times.

The immediate answer is,"Oh, this is some that was sent down from Augusta County for the sick soldiers, but the poor devils don't need it, so we'll drink it.

Then a courier comes in with the message that a badly wounded soldier is outside. "Bring him in!" says the chief surgeon.

After a casual examination, the patient is told that his arms must be amputated. He inquires if he can have a furlough after the operation.

"Oh, no," replies the surgeon, who shortly announces that a leg also must be cut off.

"Then can I have a furlough?" asks the soldier.

By no means,"answers the doctor, "for you can drive an ambulance when you get well."

The surgeons now go in consultation and decide that the wounded man's had must be amputated. "Then I know I can have a furlough," observes the patient.

"No, indeed," says the chief physician. "We are so scarce of men that your body will have to be set up in the breastworks to fool the enemy."

Dr. William Gibbs McNeill Whistler, a surgeon in the Confederate army.
He was attached to Orr's Rifles, a South Carolina regiment.

A Matter of Perspective

2012-01-02T11:38:00.000-06:00

Today's entry comes from the Rebellion Record Volume III by Frank Moore, 1862. I meant to post this last month, but the holidays got in the way.

This is an account of the battle of Allegheny from the Confederate point of view. The official casualties of this battle are: Union 140 killed or wounded and two missing, and Confederate: 128 killed or wounded and 34 captured or missing. However one would never know that the Confederate numbers this high nor that the Union numbers this low from the following interesting account, published in the Richmond Dispatch on December 21, 1862.

. . . Our boys are laughing heartily over the Yankees' published account of the battle of Alleghany. The following passage is really amusing: "The rebels set fire to their camp and retreated to Staunton. Our boys left the field in good order." Why, my dear sirs, it would have done your heart good to have seen tho scoundrels run 1 Tho road for three miles was covered with their knapsacks, canteens, blankets, hats, and haversacks, and the citizens from the country bring us the news that they were stricken with tho most disgraceful panic The villains vented their spleen upon an old woman living upon the Greenbank road, aged eighty-two ears, by destroying her furniture, carrying off er provisions, and breaking up her cooking utensils. Col. Johnson sent her a sack of flour and some other articles. Their troops went back to Cheat Mountain in wild confusion, demoralized and dispirited. Nothing prevented their entire capture but the withdrawal of Col. Taliaferro's brigade from this line of operation.

We learn from our spies, and from men recently from Northwestern Virginia, that the enemy confess a loss, in killed, wounded, and missing, of over seven hundred men. Their dead bodies are still being found in tho woods. Six were found yesterday, with their eyes picked out by the crows, and many more doubtless lie scattered through the dense forest.

Confederate General Edward Johnson, also known as also known as Allegheny Johnson. He received his nickname while commanding six infantry regiments in a battle on Allegheny Mountain.

70 or 80 Pairs of Mittens

2011-12-26T09:24:00.000-06:00

The entry is from Blue-Eyed Child of Fortune, The Civil War Letters of Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, edited by Russell Duncan. Later in the war Shaw would become the colonel in command of the all-black 54th Regiment, but that was still a couple of years off. Christmas time 1861 he was second lieutenant with the 2nd Massachusetts Infantry.

Shaw was from a privileged background, which helps explain this entry..

Camp Hicks, near Frederick Maryland, 3 1/2 o’clock
December 25, 1861

. . . Also, tell the girls that Harry would be very much obliged if they would send him seventy or eighty pairs of mittens. I heard him say he would like to have some. The men were all glad to get them, though, as usual, they didn’t express their thanks. They get so many things that they are spoilt, and think thy have a right to all these extras. Thirteen dollars per month, with board, lodging, and clothes, is more than nine men out of ten could make at home. Poor soldiers! Poor drumsticks! But this is not the sort of language for me to use, who am supposed to stand in the light of half mother to the men of my company. I should like about fifteen more pairs mittens; and some warm flannel shirts and drawers would be very useful, if there are any spare ones. “Uncle Sam’s” are miserable things. “Merry Christmas” and love to all . . .

Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, May 1863, photograph, Boston Athenaeum

Christmas 1861 with the Kosciusko, Indiana Guards

2011-12-24T19:09:00.024-06:00

This entry is from the Journal of the Kosciusko Guards [Indiana] • Company E • 12th Regiment, written by William S. Hemphill, Transcribed by Marjorie Priser as found at Kosciusko County Indiana Yesteryear in Print website (http://yesteryear.clunette.com/kosguard6.html)

It is Christmas Eve! The cold wind sweeps in fitful gusts around the lowly cot of the poor, and piles the snow in mimic mountains at the door of the rich. The inmates draw close to the bright fireside and laugh and chat merrily over the return of the day so anxiously looked for in childhood, as each succeeding year brings its "Merry Christmas", its friendly greetings, and its tokens of love and friendship to each one in the home circle. But, in how many homes is there a vacant chair to-night? In how many beaming faces is there a shadow of sadness, stealing in between the smiles? And why? A father, a husband, a brother, or a son is not there. Why is that chair vacant tonight of all nights! Come with me to the banks of the Potomac, to the fields of Kentucky, or to the broad prairies of Missouri, and you shall have your answer.

"A Merry Christmas!" Tis the old familiar greeting! Echoed from tent to tent, throughout the camp. It passes around the guard line. The sentinel on duty, whose unceasing tramp tramp tramp was keeping time to his thoughts, looks around him while a bright smile illuminates his face, which is bronzed by exposure to the sun and the elements, he passes the magic words to his comrades, and resumes his wearying walk and watch, while his thoughts, at a bound, go back to the cheerful cottage so far away, where he knows his loved ones are assembled, and in his heart he greets their wish "A Merry Christmas". Look at him now, as he calls up fond recollections of home, and you would think his heart had never known a care; that the face, now so cheerful and bright, had never worn the fierce look of determination; that the eye, now so gentle in its expression, that perchance you may detect a truant tear, rolling slowly down the brown cheek, had never blazed with the fire of passion as he glanced along the trusty rifle, now held so lovingly to his bosom, (as though it were one of the loved ones, of whom he is thinking) with the determination to send its death-dealing contents to the heart of some luckless foe-man.

Those cheering words, which brought such bright visions of happiness in childhood, still wield a magic influence over the heart of the soldier, and place him once more, in imagination, within the walls of home. But it is only the reflected joys of former years that causes his heart to beat quicker, and causes the smile to linger upon his lips. Lay aside the ideal and look at the real. All is changed. Christmas brings to the soldier none of the festivities, or unions and merrymakings that it brings to the citizens at home. He only enjoys in imagination the bright scenes, the memories of the past; while they, greeted by loved ones at every step, forget the cares of life for the time being, and mingle in scenes of mirth and pleasure.

Instead of the holiday they enjoy, the soldier has the same weary routine of duty to perform. Whilst the citizen is looking for a cherished friend, a loved brother or sister, to spend the day with him in pleasant festivities, the soldier is watching for the approach of a subtle enemy, whose appearance would probably mean the approach of the "grim monster" to one, or both. Whilst the one is watching to guard against a pleasant susprise by some loved one, which would only call forth a happy laugh, the other is watching to guard against a surprise which would call forth all the fierce elements in man's nature strife, bloodshed and death.

The one takes his place at the festal board and partakes of the luxuries of the season; while the other has the poor pittance of coarse food that is doled out to him by the government he is defending, and on which he is expected to subsist, month after month without uttering a complaint. And yet there are those who spend their lives in ease, enjoying the blessings and privileges, the soldier has sacrificed so much to secure to those, who will say "A soldier's life is a life of pleasure." It is; and the man is unworthy [of] the name of soldier, or the proud title of American Citizen, who does not take pleasure in discharging the duties assigned him; though those duties should require him to face storms and danger, and even death. It is a proud pleasure to know that he is doing his whole duty; but it is not the kind of pleasure that is found by the home fireside.

In camp, the holiday passes slowly away. Perhaps some lucky one has procured some little luxury, which is shared with all, so far as it will reach, and while the loved ones are gathered around the cheerful hearthstone, in the cozy room at home, the soldier draws his blanket about him, and whilst a comrade keeps up the weary watch and tramp tramp tramp he sits down by the camp fire to think of, and talk of the loved ones at home; of the happy hours he has spent with them, and of their probable enjoyment of "Merry Christmas". And deep down in his heart he sighs and wonders if they are thinking of him, if they regret his absence. But time passes; "Taps" have sounded. All is quiet in camp save that unceasing tramp tramp tramp of the sentinel on his lonely beat.

Let us look into this tent. There lies a soldier, with his coarse blanket drawn around him, resting his wearied form on the cold, damp ground, with nothing but this thin bit of canvas to shelter him from the storm. He sleeps. Yes, just as soundly and sweetly as those who are resting upon beds of down, at home. Watch his features and read his thoughts. A bright smile steals over his bronzed features. He mingles again with his loved ones around the festal board. Hears again the old, familiar voices, as they ring out with their "Merry Christmas" greeting. Again he sits by the fireside and joins in the innocent amusements of the occasion. But see! The smile is gone, the scene has changed. The bright visions of home have fled. A step or the challenge of the sentinel falls on the ear that is always open to detect the sound of approaching danger. Look again. Would you recognize those features now? A look of defiance, of hatred, of stern determination rests now where you so lately found a bright smile. See! His hand grasps his trusty rifle which is always by his side and with a start he awakes and finds 'tis but a dream!

Don't go yet. Wait. Again he sleeps, and again he dreams of home and loved ones. Hark! What sound is that? Like a flash he springs to his feet and as the "long-roll" swells out on the midnight air, with rifle in hand he rushes forth to join his comrades in repelling a night attack. The commands are given in a low firm voice; a cautious movement is made; a whispered "there they are" is heard; then, "Steady men!" and then - the rifles are pouring forth their deadly contents! The splintering fire; the hoarse commands; the shouts and cheers of the combatants; the shrieks and groans of the wounded and dying; the roar of artillery; the bursting of shells, and the clashing of arms, all mingle together in an indescribable roar, which once heard can never be forgotten. See there! Would you recognize in that powder blackened image the features of the loved and loving one we were gazing upon but a moment ago?

"Charge!" The effect is like that produced by a current of electricity as it passes through the ranks. With a shout of defiance to the foe he rushes forward unmindful of danger. The bright flash is seen, the sharp report of the rifle is heard; he staggers forward a few steps, reels and falls! His life blood is turning the snow to a bright crimson. Again he essays to go forward; but Death orders him to "halt". With a last effort his rifle is raised to his cheek; a wild light gleams from his eyes as his last leaden messenger speeds on its mission of death.

The rifle falls from his hands; his eyes are turned toward Heaven; his lips move; Listen! He breathes a prayer. The name of some loved one lingers on his lips. Now he catches the sound of familiar voices. They call him back from the land of shadows. With a last effort he raises his hand as they approach and with his fast failing strength he joins in the glad shout of "Victory!" a triumphant smile playing upon his features. His men-mates gather around. Gently they bear him back to camp. Tenderly they gaze upon his face and minister to his wants. Sadly they bend over him to catch from his lips the last message to the loved ones at home. A moment more and the soldier's Merry Christmas is closed in death. He has gone on his last march. Has stood his last guard. Has fought his last battle, and spoken for the last time of home and loved ones. While those dear ones at home are perhaps speaking his name and indulging the fond hope that he will soon return. Tears roll down their manly cheeks. All his faults are carried with him; his virtues only are remembered. Sadly his name is spoken as they linger around the camp fire; and often do they speak of the vacant seat in that far off home, which will never again be filled and of the cheerful voice which greeted them with "Mery Christmas!" now forever hushed.

Time rolls along and while the "Home Guard" speaks with enthusiasm of the pleasures of a soldier's life, he has the weary, monotonous duties to perform, cheered occasionally by a letter from home, a token by which he knows that he is not forgotten. Cheered at all times by the knowledge that loving hearts yearn for his safe return; that a mother's, a sister's, a wife's, or a sweetheart's prayers go up to the throne of Grace by day and by night, in his behalf. But above all things cheered by the knowledge that he is discharging his duty to his God and his country. With the bright dreams of the future and of fame ever before him, he goes steadily forward in the discharge of duty, expecting a safe return to home and loved ones, where he can fight his battles over by the fireside, surrounded by their dear familiar faces, when Time again brings in his train the "Merry Christmas" greetings.

January 3, 1863 cover of Harper's Weekly, one of the first depictions of Santa Claus

Long and Loose In The Joints

2011-12-24T17:35:00.000-06:00

This entry is from Diary of a Union Lady 1861 - 1865 edited by Harold Earl Hammond.

This is from the diary of Maria Lydig Daly, wife of a justice of the Court of Common Pleas in New York City. She is not a fan of Lincoln, as you will see by this quote, which was a common opinion in New York City at the time.

December 19, 1861

Lincoln is mentally what he is physically, long and loose in the joints. He cannot gather himself up easily for an effort, but all agree he is a conscientious, honest fellow, most unfit for his high position, not realizing the peril of the country, content to be President and have Mrs. Lincoln dress herself up and hold levees. . . . She is not a young woman by any means, but dresses like one and rather bullies her husband, which they say accounts for his meekness. The people of Springfield say that she was often heard crying from her doorstep: "Abraham, Abraham, we want a bushel of potatoes."

The Life of a Book that Survived Two Wars and a Great Lake

2011-12-22T13:10:00.000-06:00

Sometimes the history of a book can be as interesting as the book itself. I recently came across such a book -- a book that reveals its story through names, dates and places written inside and placed on labels. There is even an interesting piece of paper stuck between the pages -- but I will get to that later.. The name of the book? Arctic Explorations in the Years 1853, ’54 ‘55 by Elisha Kent Kane, Volume II copyright 1857.

The first owner of the book could have been the U. S. Government, and if not, then likely John James Abert, Chief of the Topographical Bureau at Washington, and colonel in command of that branch of engineers. Abert is associated in the supervision of many earlier national engineering works and map making projects. It would be appropriate that he would have a copy of Elisha Kent Kane’s book.

John James Abert

Inside the front of book a light yellow label has been adhered, most likely being the label used when this book was shipped from Washington where Abert was. In the right upper right hand corner: “On Official Business , Bureau Topopgraphy,” then in different handwriting J. J. Abert., Col. Corps. T E. (Colonel of the Corps of Topographical Engineers). This yellow label has a postmark dated Feb. 9, 1857 and says “Washington Free”.

Close-up of the postmark

It appears to be the actual handwriting of Abert on this envelope when compared to a sample of Abert’s signature found online in a couple of places. Here is one I found in the Annual Report of the Board of Regents of the Smithsonian Institution, 1897.

Abert may have even known Elisha Kent Kane. After all, they were both explorers in their own fields. An interesting aside is that Kane died seven days after the postmark found in this book, on February 16, 1857, at the age of 36, while in Havana traveling for his health.

Now we come to the second owner of this book, Joseph Adams Potter.

Joseph Adams Potter

The yellow label is addressed to Adjutant J.A. Potter, Survey of the N W Lakes, Detroit Michigan. J A Potter’s name is also written on the title page of the book, along with the date, 1857. At the time Potter received the book he was working as a surveyor on Lake Superior, under then Captain George Meade, a name with which you may be familiar, because he later was a Major General during the Civil War. And this surveyor would also became an officer -- a brevet general -- and a quartermaster in the Union army during the Civil War. Possibly Abert sent Potter this book since his bore similarities to Potter’s own work as a surveyor in the north waters.

The Civil War arrived, and during the war the now quartermaster Potter moved around as soldiers are apt to do. Did the book go with him?

When the war ended Potter continued to act in the capacity of a quartermaster, and in 1867 found himself stationed in Galveston, Texas. Much to his bad luck, there was a yellow fever epidemic while he was there, and he was not spared. One day he was attacked by the fever and on the evening of the third day he was pronounced dying. He had a young wife and an infant son, and they both caught the fever, too. The night Potter was pronounced dying the fever took a favorable turn, and he lived. When he was well enough to leave his bed twelve day later, he found that his wife, his commanding general, and his two body servants were all dead, and no one left but his little boy. His house was in the hands of servants and strangers, and every trunk and drawer ransacked, and many valuables gone. But not the book.

Was the book with Potter in Galveston? We’ll never know for sure, but we can surmise the next and third owner, is Potter’s son H. W. Potter (Howard), the little boy who survived the Yellow Fever. His label is in the front of the book. H. W. grew up, married, and had two daughters who were born in Streator Illinois. And when H.W. came to Streator the book must have come with him, some time in the late 1800’s.

Now we come to the fourth owner. This is F. L. (Frank) Angier. Just how did he get it? My guess is that he bought it as a used book, or perhaps even was given it. A bookplate in the front of the book shows that Angier lived or worked in Kangley, Illinois, which is not far away from Streator, Illinois, where H W Potter lived.

Angier was also in the army, a Colonel during the Spanish American War, and his name is written in the book, along with Major General Matthew Calbraith Butler’s name.

My speculation is that during the Spanish American War Angier worked for Major General Matthew Calbraith Buter. Butler’s name is in the same handwriting as Angier’s and it doesn’t appear to be Butler’s handwriting, and so was probably written there by Angier.

Butler has an interesting past, too. From South Carolina, he is a famous Civil War Confederate cavalry officer, related to prominent people of the south, has Revoluntary War heroes as ancestors, and married the daughter of Governor F. W. Pickens. After the Civil War he was elected to the United State Senate, and later appointed a major-general in the volunteer army of the United States, for the war with Spain. That’s when this book must have been in his hands, when he was at Camp Alger, Virginia.

Matthew Calbraith Butler

After the Spanish American war Angier must have retained the book for some time. Inside the book I found a little slip of paper, a campaign advertisement if you will, for the 24^th Annual Encampment of the U. S. W. V. (United Spanish War Veterans). It says . “F.L. Angier, Let us vote for ‘Friday’ on Saturday. Angier ran for some office during this encampment that probably took place in 1923. This means Angier owned the book for at least 25 years, and maybe longer.

So there you have it. A book with ties to one great lake and at least two wars, and some people of note in America’s past.

You may ask, how is it that I have this book. Serendipity I suppose. It was a part of a group of books that sat in an old railroad depot in the Midwest, not far from Streator, untouched, for many years, and finally sold at auction a few months back. Will the book’s history revealed end here? I don’t know, but it has come a long way already.

A Confederate Woman's Rights Considered

2011-12-22T12:33:00.000-06:00

This appeared in the Clarksville Chronicle, December 20, 1861, regarding the consideration of the woman's right to vote and a fine on women for entrapping men.

In the legislature of Tennessee, upon the consideration of bill No. 94; to protect the property of femes covert:

Mr. Fleming offered the following amendment to the bill:
Be it further enacted, That in all popular elections in this State, every unmarried woman, being the owner of taxable property, shall be entitled to vote as male citizens are now authorized by law to vote; and every married woman, having separate property, whose husband may be insolvent, shall, in like manner, be entitled to vote, and the husband of such woman is hereby disfranchised.

Mr. Rankin offered the following amendment to the amendment:
Be it enacted by the General Assembly of the State of Tennessee, That all women, of whatever age, rank, profession, or degree, whether virgin, maid, or widow, that shall, from and after the passage of this act, impose upon, seduce, or betray into marriage any male subject in the Confederate States of America, and particularly in the State of Tennessee, by the means of scents, paints, cosmetics, washes, artificial teeth, false hair, Spanish wool, iron stays, high-heeled shoes, or bolstered hips, shall be guilty of misdemeanor, and upon conviction, shall be fined in the sum of $100, and imprisoned at the discretion of the court trying the cause.|

On motion of Mr. Speaker Keeble, (Mr. Estes in the chair,) the amendments were laid upon the table.

The newspaper's comments on this second paragraph:

Now wouldn't it create a flutteration among the women if that bill were to pass! But it didn't, ladies. You can go on taking the boys in.


Farm Women take a moment from their sewing at Cedar Mountain, Georgia (from Library of Congress)

Father and Sons Become Enemies

2011-12-19T16:05:00.000-06:00

This contents of this entry can be found at the Wisconsin Historical Society's Website (http://www.wisconsinhistory.org) , and is called "Father and Sons Become Enemies." It is from a diary entry dated December 18, 1861.

"In the fall of 1861, blacksmith William Moore of Black River Falls was chosen captain of Company G, 10th Wisconsin Infantry. It left for Louisville, Kentucky, on October 8. Near Leesville, Kentucky, Moore learned about the sad realities of a divided Southern family. On December 18, 1861, he writes in his diary about a Kentucky father and his sons who chose to fight on opposite sides of the war."

Here I learned from a citizen the history of a family who present a sad picture of the deplorable effects of civil war. The Father and two sons, each feeling a desire to do something for their country according to their individual notions of right, enlisted; the two sons in the Union army, and the Father in the Rebel army. The two sons expostulated with the Father, but to no purpose, when one of the sons addressed his father in the following language.

"Father, if we meet in battle and you get your gun to your face to shoot, and find that you got sight on one [of us], don't take it down until you have pulled the trigger. For as I live, I shall know no man as a friend who is an enemy to my country, and the cause I am fighting for."

Shaking hands they parted, to meet perhaps in the deadly conflict. Such are the deplorable consequences of one Brother going to war with another.

Source: Moore, William P. "Civil War Diary, 1861-1862," pages 13-14.

Two unidentified soldiers in Union artillery shell jackets, photo from the Library of Congress

The Confederate Flag of 1861

2011-12-08T13:06:00.000-06:00

This entry is from the Richmond Dispatch from December 7, 1861, (as found in the Rebellion Record by Frank Moore), concerning the Confederate flag. Interestingly, this article is not referring to the flag we are accustomed to seeing and is commonly known as the Confederate flag ("the Stainless banner"), but an earlier version ("the Stars and Bars.") The Stainless banner wasn't adopted as the official Confederate flag until 1863.

The adoption of our present flag was a natural, but most pernicious blunder. As the old flag itself was not the author of our wrongs, we tore off a piece of the dear old rag and set it up as a standard. We took it for granted a flag was a divisible thing, and proceeded to set off our proportion. So we took, at a rough calculation, our share of the stars and our fraction of the stripes, and put them together, and called them the ' Confederate flag.' Even as Aaron of old put the gold into the fire, and then came out this calf, so certain stars and stripes went into committee, and then came out this flag. All this was honest and fair to a fault. We were clearly entitled to from seven to eleven of the stars, and three or four of the stripes.

Indeed, as we were maintaining the principles it was intended to represent, and the North had abandoned them, we were honestly entitled to the whole flag. Had we kept it, and fought for it and under it, and conquered it from the North, it would have been no robbery, but all right and fair. And we should either have done this, i.e. kept the flag as a whole, or else we should have abandoned it as a whole and adopted another. But if we did not choose to assert our title to the whole, was it politic or judicious to split the flag and claim one of the fractions? We had an equal right, also, to ' Hail Columbia' and' Yankee Doodle.' We might have adopted a part of ' Yankee Doodle' (say every third stanza), or else 'Yankee Doodle' with variations, as our national air. In the choice of an air we were not guilty of this absurdity, but we have perpetrated one exactly parallel to it in the choice of a national flag. There is no exaggeration in the illustration. It seems supremely ridiculous, yet it scarcely does our folly justice.

There is but one feature essential to a flag, and that is distinctness. Beauty, appropriateness, good taste, are all desirable; but the only thing indispensable is distinctness, — wide, plain, unmistakable distinction from other flags. Unfortunately, this indispensable thing is just the thing which the Confederate flag lacks; and failing in this, it is a lamentable and total failure, absolute and irredeemable.

The failure is in a matter of essence. It is as complete as that of writing which cannot be read, of a gun which cannot be shot, of a coat which cannot be worn. It is the play of Hamlet with the part of Hamlet left out. A flag which does not distinguish may be a very nice piece of bunting; it may be handsomely executed, tasteful, expressive, and a thousand other things, but it has no title at all to bear the name of ' flag.'

We knew the flag we had to fight; yet, instead of getting as far from it, we were guilty of the huge mistake of getting as near to it as possible. We sought similarity, adopting a principle diametrically wrong, we made a flag as nearly like theirs as could only under favorable circumstances, be distinguished from it. Under unfavorable circumstances (such as constantly occur in practice), the two flags are indistinguishable. In the wars of the Roses in Great Britain, one side adopted the white and the other the red rose. Suppose that one side had adopted milk white and the other flesh white, or one a deep pink and the other a lighter shade of pink, would there have been any end to the confusion?

When a body of men is approaching in time of war, it is rather an important matter to ascertain, if practicable, whether they are friends or foes. Certainly no question could well be more radical in its influence upon our actions, plans, and movements. To solve this important question is the object of a flag. When they get near us, there may be other means of information; but to distinguish friends from enemies at a distance is the specific purpose of a flag. Human ingenuity is great, and may conceive some other small purposes, presentations, toasts, speeches, &c.: but that this is the great end of a flag will not be denied; and it is in this that the Confederate flag fails.

There is no case in history in which broad distinction in the symbols of the combatants was more necessary than it has been in the present war. Our enemies are of the same race with ourselves, of the same color and even shade of complexion; they speak the same language, wear like clothing, and are of like form and stature. (The more shame that they should make war upon us !)

Our general appearance being the same, we must rely solely upon symbols for distinction. The danger of mistake is great, after all possible precautions have been taken; sufficient attention has never been paid to this important matter, involving life or death, victory or defeat. Our badges, uniforms, flags, should be perfectly distinguishable from those of the enemy. Our first and distant information is dependent solely on the flag."

The Black Flag is Raised

2011-12-07T21:43:00.000-06:00

This entry is from the Memphis Daily Appeal, December 4, 1861. This was one approach towards the war that was being advocated by some Confederates.

A call to raise the "black flag" in Memphis; the rhetoric and logic of war We unhesitatingly say that the cause of justice and the cause of humanity itself, demands that the black flag shall be unfurled on every battlefield-that extermination and death shall be proclaimed against the hellish miscreants who persist in polluting our soil with their crimes. We will stop the effusion of blood, we will arrest the horrors of war, by terrific slaughter of the foe, by examples of overwhelming and unsparing vengeance. When Olive Cromwell massacred the garrison at Drogheda, suffering not a man to escape, he justified it on the ground that his object was to bring the war to a close-to stop the effusion of blood-and, that it was, therefore, a merciful act on his part. The South can afford no longer to trifle-she must strike the most fearful blows-the war-cry of extermination must be raised.

Putting It Down in Black and White

2011-12-03T21:10:00.000-06:00

This entry comes from Vanity Fair, July 18, 1861, and concerns an slave woman disguised as a soldier.

. .. An exchange, published somewhere in the country, fills out a column with this sublime statement:: A slave woman has been discovered in one of the Ohio regiments. She was discharged.

That is all. Clear, Quiet, and simple in language, thrilling in meaning, and totally incomprehensible of understanding, we present it to our readers just as we find it. Our eyes do not deceive us.

A black woman has passed herself off for a white soldier. Shade of Jasper! What a metamorphosis. Was she whitewashed? Did she "paint an inch thick" to come "to that complexion?" How did she pass the medical examination unsuspected? What was her object? Did she wear a beard? The more questions we ask, the more profound our mystification grows. Is it an enigma, a conundrum? What Is It? We give it up. But, if this sort of thing is prevalent, what regiment is safe from these female ethiopan Jaspers? How do we know that our army, which we have loved and esteemed so much, is not largely composed of negro wenches! Can anybody swear the Brigadier-General Pierce is not a colored maiden in disguise? If he is, let him also be discharged, and speedily.

Seriously, it doesn't seem likely that this can be a very common case. Jasper's was not and Munchausen's adventures were unique. Let us hope that the Ohio regiment is the only one in whose ranks a Chloe or a Phyllis has found even a temporary asylum, and let us rejoice that in that case "she was discharged." It is probably that McAhone's (?) army alone boasts of an organization of "light quadroons;" and that we can put down rebellion better than by Putting it Down in Black and White.

Brigadier-General Byron Root Pierce

Like a Festering Wound

2011-11-27T17:09:00.000-06:00

This entry is from a speech made by James Mitchell Ashley on November 26, 1861, The Rebellion : its causes and consequences : a speech delivered by Hon. J.M. Ashley at College Hall in the city of Toledo, Tuesday evening, November 26, 1861, as found at Cornell University's Samuel J. May Anti-Slavery Collection.

Ashley was was a U.S. congressman, territorial governor and railroad president He was an active abolitionist who traveled with John Brown's widow on the date of Brown's execution. In this speech Ashely attempts to show that the "conflict" was festering for a good thirty years before coming to the surface.

. . . .I have shown that the election of Mr. Lincoln was not the cause of this rebellion, but only a pretext for it ; that for thirty years the traitors have been fomenting treason and have only been awaiting a favorable opportunity to inaugurate it. I have shown that but for the fatal folly and wicked indifference of the North this rebellion would never have come upon us. That we have fed and fostered the viper which is now at our throats, every candid, reflecting Northern man must admit ; when it was an infant, or even when it was but half-grown, the nation might easily have destroyed it, but now by our own fault and guilt it has grown until it has become formidable and terrible. For years we nursed it most tenderly and gave it all the succor and food it demanded. Now outraged justice demands either that we shall destroy it, or be ourselves destroyed by it. There is a law of compensations, a law which is above all human enactments, irrepealable because Divine, which proclaims that "the nation or people who do not rule in righteousness shall perish from the earth," and I believe we are now passing through the trying ordeal which will either establish us as a nation of freemen, ruling in righteousness, or destroy us.

James Mitchell Ashley from Wikimedia Commons (form the Library of Congress Collection), a Mathew Brady Photo

Appearances

2011-11-24T21:21:00.000-06:00

This entry is from Mary Chesnut's Civil War, edited by C. Vann Woodward. Mary Chesnut was married to James Chesnut, United States Senator from South Carolina, 1859-1861, and afterward an Aide to Jefferson Davis, and a Brigadier General in the Confederate Army. The sentiments she describes in her diary entry for November 24 were probably shared by many.

November 24, 1861

Hymn at Church:

Save us Lord, or we perish
When through the torn sail the wild tempest is howling
When o'er the dark wave the dread lightning is gleaming*

I could have rested my head on that cushion and sobbed and shrieked like a new convert at a revival camp meeting. But not an eyelash moved. So much for civilized self-control.

*Lines slightly misquoted from a hymn by Reginald Heber appearing in Hymns Written and Adapted to the Weekly Service of the Year (1827)

Mary Chesnut

I Survived The Wildcat Stampede

2011-11-20T10:02:00.000-06:00

This entry comes from The Rebellion Record: A Diary of American Events edited by Frank Moore, Third Volume, 1862.

Details are given by an unnamed correspondent in Kentucky of an event dubbed by the Confederates as the Wildcat Stampede. It was a rushed and forced march by Union forces. The retreat was ordered by General Sherman, and the logistics executed by Generals Carter and Schoepf, when Sherman erroneously became convinced that certain Union forces would be cut off by the Confederates. One account of this situation can be found at The Civil War Daily Gazette blog.

November 14, 1861 was an epic day for the marchers:

A heavy storm of rain roused the bivouackers from sleep. Their blankets and clothing were saturated with water. The morning was most dismal. Wildcat Heights, crowned with a heavy coronal of mist, frowned in dreary and discouraging altitude before us. The roads were already worked into a tough muck, the pathway on the edges where the troops walked, were slimy and slippery. Beyond was Rockcastle River, swift and reported unfordable. But the word was en avant. The lads partook of their cold rations and hot coffee, and took up the toilsome march. Every step was laborious to the sturdy, agonizing to the feeble. Knapsacks almost too heavy under fairest auspices, were now doubly burthensome, and the pack-horse load was increased by the aggravating weight of water which soaked blankets and heavy army overcoats, and the nasty slime which splashed and plastered each man's breeches as high as his knees in front and rear, and filled his shoes until they overflowed with slush.

During the first mile we passed one baggage wagon, capsized in a creek. Its load of commissary stores and baggage was lost. The desolate teamster and jaded horses, bedaubed with mud, gazed at it dismally and hopelessly as we moved forward. Farther up the hill a half-dozen wagons were stuck, and the poor animals could not move them. A few hundred yards further, barrels of bread were tossed out of wagons and left to destruction in the forests. A stranger to the facts, passing now, would have said, Here is a terrified army fleeing from a pursuing enemy.

Going up the mountain, we pass Tennesseeans; some are still pushing on desperately. Yonder is one prone on a bed of wet forest leaves; his head is bolstered on a rotten stump. Exhaustion is graphically pictured on his livid complexion and in his silent form. He is unconscious while he sleeps the sleep of distress, that the driving rain is beating mercilessly upon him. My comrade startles me—"Is he dead?" Oh, no; he's only an exhausted soldier! Ho wears no shoulder straps, with a silver star on each. But it is yet early in the day; surely it is not time for soldiers to yield to fatigue. They have marched only one night, and have slept the whole of one or two hours on the damp, frosted soil.

At last the ascent is accomplished by a few. We look back with a sigh of relief, and turn away again with emotions of regret and disgust at the sorrowful and weary file of men, still toiling through the mire, and gazing wistfully to the top. But here is a picture. On the top of a rock on the crest of the hill, there sits a Toledo lad, writing a letter. He protects the precious page from the rain with his hat, and the big drops patter on his bare head. He looks careworn and wayworn; but his eye is bright, his hand steady. From head to foot, he is incased in a thick plastering of clay, and moisture drips from his sleeves. He replies to my comrade, "No, colonel, I've not given out; I'm a little tired though. I'll make it, colonel; I'll never give up."

Why in the name of humanity does not the commander send back messengers to halt this column? Is there imminent danger ahead? Cannot these failing men be halted a day for rest? At least let messengers be despatched from head-quarters to inspire them to march, march, to resist the foe. Any thing to renew their spirit. But look at these wagon loads of sick soldiers. See them shivering in saturated blankets, seated in pools of water which drip from their clothing as it pours from the clouds. Hear their unceasing, discordant, and harrowing chorus of coughing. Here are candidates for the grave. But the order is stern—" Bring all your sick." "Oh," said one of the surgeons to me, "that was the cruelest order officer ever gave. I protested in vain. I urged that it would kill my patients. But come they must. I shall lose perhaps thirty or forty of my regiment, and it will plant consumption in the lungs of two hundred more.. . . ."

Brigadier General Albin F. Schoepf, one of the officers commanding the "Wildcat Stampede" from Wikipedia

Ladies' Curiosity Gratified

2011-11-14T07:00:00.002-06:00

This entry comes from the Memphis Daily Appeal, November 14, 1861.

Ladies Curiosity Gratified.

            The war correspondent of the Charleston Courier tells the following good one:
            Frequently the ladies are in the habit of visiting the prisoners, but oftener from curiosity than sympathy. Another incident is told of an encounter between several of them and an Irishman:

            It had become a matter of habit with the fair ones to open conversation with the very natural inquiry, "Where are you wounded?" and accordingly when a party of three or four the other day approached our cell, they launched out in the usual way. Paddy made believe that he didn't hear distinctly and replied, "Pretty well, I thank yez." "Where were you wounded?" again fired away one of the ladies. "Faith, I'm not badly hurt at all. I'll be thravelling to Richmond in a wake," replied Pat, with a peculiarly distressing look, as if he was in a tight place. Thinking that he was deaf, one of the old ladies in the background put her mouth down to his ear and shouted again, "We want to know where you are hurt."

Pat evidently finding that if the bombardment continued much longer he would have to strike his flag anyhow, concluded to do so at once, and accordingly, with a face as rosy as a boiled lobster, and with an angry kind of energy, he replied: "Sure, leddies, it's not deaf that I am, but since ye are determined to know where I've been wounded, its in my sate. The bullet entered behind of my breeches. Please to excuse my feelings and ax me no more questions."

I leave it to you to imagine the blushing consternation of the inquisitors and sudden locomotion of the crinoline out of the front door.

Seated soldier wearing four button sack with kepi, patriotic matte, from Library of Congress Collection

How I Was Almost Captured by the Confederates

2011-11-11T08:12:00.000-06:00

Today's entry is from The Life-Story and Personal Reminiscences of Col John Sobieski, written by himself.

Sobieski was a Polish native descended from royalty who was banished from his own country, and so came to America. He entered the American army in the 1850's, and fought on the Union side during the Civil war. In this excerpt he writes about an experience he had shortly after the Battle of Antietam.

I was very nearly captured while we were near New Baltimore, after the battle of Antietam. I took charge of some teams one day, to go out and get some forage. Our orders were very strict not to enter into any private house, and if any of my men did so, or attempted in any way to molest the inhabitants, to report them on return to the camp. After getting some distance out into the country, and being some little distance in the rear of my teams, I noticed that they had halted in front of a farm-house. I put the spur to my horse, and as I approached the house heard the cackling of hens and the gobbling of turkeys, and knew some fowl (foul) proceedings were going on at the front. I rode up to the house just in time to meet the men on the way out to their wagons, with their hands full of fowls. I halted them and ordered them to drop their plunder, and threatened to report them on returning to camp. A very handsome lady, apparently about thirty-five, who was standing on the porch of the house, thanked me for my protection, and calling me captain, asked me how soon it would be before I would return. I told her in a couple of hours. She said if I would call, she would show her appreciation of my services by having a good dinner for me.

On my return she met me at the door, and a darky received my horse and led it away.

As I was entering the hall, she said: "Captain, you can lay your belts upon this table, and I'll promise you that they shall not be interfered with."

I hesitated for a moment, questioning in my mind the wisdom of the act; but I took them off and threw them on the table. She led the way into the parlor, where she introduced me to an exceedingly handsome young lady, who was her sister.

She said, "Sister, this is the young captain who protected our house this morning."

The young lady bowed and smiled. I was at that time twenty years of age, a very susceptible time in one's life, so the smile was more than I could stand, and I was gone in a minute.

She said, "Yes, sister told me about the event of this morning, and that shows that all the chivalry is not on our side."

The lady of the house said: "Now, I will hurry up my servants with the dinner, and my sister will entertain you;" which she did charmingly.

Soon dinner was announced, and when I entered the dining room, I saw there were several extra plates. I was assigned to a place at the table, and while waiting for the ladies to be seated, a door opened to my right, and in walked two Confederate officers, a captain and a major. They were introduced to me as Captain and Major Grayson. They extended their hands, and I shook hands with them and said I was glad to meet them. I reckon I never told a bigger lie.

The lady of the house said: "Now, I will put the major on the right of our friend, and the captain on the left. There, you don't know how nice you warriors look."

I thought I might look nice, but I didn't feel that way. It was some minutes before I dared look in the face of my hostess. I cannot describe my feelings in those minutes, though I tried to conceal them. I thought, after I had protected her house, she had laid a trap to take me prisoner. I was afraid, if I looked at her, I would say something that wasn't nice; so I waited until my emotions were conquered, and everything went as pleasantly as though we were old friends.

After dinner we went into the parlor. All around the parlor walls there were pictures of distinguished Virginians: Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, Tyler, Marshall, Zachary Taylor, and others. I thought all this time that I was a prisoner, though not the slightest reference had been made to the subject, or to my peculiar position. As we walked around the room we talked about the great men whose pictures we looked upon, and they complimented me that one so young as I was, and a foreigner, too, should be so well acquainted with the lives of these great men. Soon the ladies came in and we got to talking about my native country. As I told them of the struggle of our country for liberty and the part my family had taken in the struggle, and as I described the Russian prison, the death of my father, the banishment of my mother and myself, I saw the tears standing in the eyes of the two fair Virginians.

I now told my hostess that I must go. They all begged of me to remain longer, as they had enjoyed my visit so well; but I assured them that I must go. I thought they were going to say that they would keep me anyway; but soon my horse was announced, and we proceeded out into the hallway, followed by the ladies. The gentlemen assisted me in adjusting my belts, and when we arrived at the porch the little darky stood ready with my horse. When the bridle was placed in my hands, I turned around and confronted them for the first time. Up to this time not a single word had been said in regard to our peculiar relations.

As I extended my hand, both of the gentlemen stepped forward to receive it. The major said he was glad to have met me, and hoped to meet me again under more favorable circumstances. And the captain said, ''And above all, we hope you may go through the rest of the war unscathed."

I thanked them for their kind wishes, tipped my hat to the ladies, mounted my horse, and was gone. My relief was great when I found that I was a free man.

Still, I have often since pondered upon my strange adventure that afternoon. I have rather concluded that the major was the lady's husband, that the captain was his brother, of course, and that they had come there that day after we had left, and the lady had told them of the events of the morning, and, under the circumstances, they could not avail themselves of their opportunity for my capture. I wonder if they did go through the rest of the storm of war unscathed! I hope they did; and I have often hoped since then, that if they did come through alive, that I might meet one or both and have a talk with them over the events of that afternoon. I have given up that hope now, but trust in the great Beyond we shall meet and have a talk and laugh over the peculiar dinner on that November day, when we met together, and, forgetting the bitter passions of war, passed the hour so pleasantly.

John Sobieski, a photograph from his autobiography

A Slave Trader Sentenced to Hang

2011-11-09T07:00:00.001-06:00

This entry is what the Judge Shipman said when he passed sentence on Nathanial Gordon on November 9th, 1861.

Nathaniel Gordon was the only American slave trader to be tried, convicted and executed "for being engaged in the Slave Trade" in accordance with the Piracy Law of 1820. He loaded 897 slaves aboard his ship Erie in West Africa on August 7, 1860, "of whom only 172 were men and 162 grown women. Gordon was known for preferring to carry children because they were easier to control The Erie was captured 50 miles from port on August 8, 1860. After one hung jury and a new trial, Gordon was finally convicted on November 9, 1861 and sentenced to death by hanging.

Here is what the judge, said:

Let me implore you to seek the spiritual guidance of the ministers of religion; and let your repentance be as humble and thorough as your crime was great. Do not attempt to hide its enormity from yourself; think of the cruelty and wickedness of seizing nearly a thousand fellow beings, who never did you harm, and thrusting them beneath the decks of a small ship, beneath a burning tropical sun, to die in of disease or suffocation, or be transported to distant lands, and be consigned, they and their posterity, to a fate far more cruel than death.

Think of the sufferings of the unhappy beings whom you crowded on the Erie; of their helpless agony and terror as you took them from their native land; and especially of their miseries on the ---- ----- place of your capture to Monrovia! Remember that you showed mercy to none, carrying off as you did not only those of your own sex, but women and helpless children.

Do not flatter yourself that because they belonged to a different race from yourself, your guilt is therefore lessened – rather fear that it is increased. In the just and generous heart, the humble and the weak inspire compassion, and call for pity and forbearance. As you are soon to pass into the presence of that God of the black man as well as the white man, who is no respecter of persons, do not indulge for a moment the thought that he hears with indifference the cry of the humblest of his children. Do not imagine that because others shared in the guilt of this enterprise, yours, is thereby diminished; but remember the awful admonition of your Bible, “Though hand joined in hand, the wicked shall not go unpunished."

—Worcester Aegis and Transcript; December 7, 1861; pg. 1, col. 6.

Description of a slave ship," by an anonymous artist, wood engraving. The woodcut was first produced in 1786 to illustrate various works by Thomas Clarkson, and was then distributed separately by abolitionists. from the British Museum, London, this image is from Wikimedia

Pick Me! Pick Me!

2011-11-07T12:02:00.000-06:00

This entry comes from The War Within the Union High Command: Politics and Generalship During the Civil War, by Thomas J. Goss. It concerns Benjamin Butler, a prominent Massachusetts politician turned General, who has a reputation of being an ineffectual Civil War leader. But apparently it wasn't for lack of ambition.

In his diary on November 8, 1861, Lincoln aid John Hay recorded a letter from Benjamin Butler to the President.

Gen’l Wool has resigned. Gen’l Fremont must. Gen’l Scott has retired.
I have an ambition, and I trust a laudable one, to be Major-General of the United States Army.
Has anybody done more to deserve it? No one will do more. May I rely upon you, as you may have confidence in me, to take this matter into consideration?
I will not disgrace the position. I may fail in its duties.
P.S. I have made the same suggestion to other of my friends.

General Benjamin Butler from Library of Congress via Wikimedia

The Lady as Loyal as Steel

2011-11-03T11:11:00.000-05:00

This entry comes from My Diary North and South by William Howard Russell.

Russell was an Irish reporter with The Times and is considered to have been one of the first modern war correspondents. Here he comments on Mary Todd Lincoln.

November 3rd. [1861] —For some reason or another, a certain set of papers have lately taken to flatter Mrs. Lincoln in the most noisome manner, whilst others deal in dark insinuations against her loyalty, Union principles, and honesty. The poor lady is loyal as steel to her family and to Lincoln the first; but she is accessible to the influence of flattery, and has permitted her society to be infested by men who would not be received in any respectable private house in New York.

Mary Todd Lincoln, from the Library of Congress Collection

Socks for Soldiers

2011-11-01T08:26:00.000-05:00

This entry comes from My Story of the War by Mary Aston Rice Livermore. Livermore was a journalist, and an advocate for woman's rights. During the war she was involved with the United States Sanitary Commission, organized many aid societies and visited army posts and hospitals.

Various aid societies in Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota, Illinois and Indiana would send boxes of supplies they made to the Sanitary Commission for use in hospitals. Many came with notes. Here are a few that came with socks.

Dear Soldier, —If these socks had language they would tell you that many a kind wish for you has been knit into them, and many a tear of pity for you has bedewed them. We all think of you, and want to do everything we can for you; for we feel that we owe you unlimited love and gratitude, and that you deserve the very best at our hands.

Here is another, of a different character: — My Dear Boy, — I have knit these socks expressly for you. How do you like them ? How do you look, and where do you live when you are at home? I am nineteen years old, of medium height, of slight build, with blue eyes, fair complexion, light hair, and a good deal of it. Write and tell me all about yourself, and how you get on in the hospitals. Direct to . P. S. If the recipient of these socks has a wife, will he please exchange socks with some poor fellow not so fortunate?

And here is yet another: — My Brave Friend — I have learned to knit on purpose to knit socks for the soldiers. This is my fourth pair. My name is ______ and I live in ______. Write to me, and tell me how you like the foot-gear and what we can do for you. Keep up good courage, and by and by you will come home to us. Won't that be a grand time, though? And won't we all turn out to meet you, with flowers and music, and cheers and embraces? There's a good time coming, boys!

Mar Rice Livermore (from Wikipedia)

Nostradamus Predicts

2011-10-27T07:00:00.006-05:00

This entry come from the Memphis Daily Appeal, October 27, 1861

. . . .many of the predictions made by Nostradamus . . . have been completely verified, they are generally discredited in our times. But in the Prophecies of Vatcinations, of that great man, vol. 2d (edition of 1609) we find the following:

"About that time (1861) a great quarrel and contest will arise in a country beyond the seas (America). Many poor devils will be hung, and many poor wretches killed . . .. The war will not cease for four years, at which none should be astonished or surprised, for there will be no want of hatred and obstinacy in it. At the end of that time, prostrate and almost ruined, the people will embrace each other in great joy and love."

The period of four years . . . comprise the exact term of Lincoln's administration. At the close, a new era, it seems, will commence of harmony and peace. Well, if we are to go through this fiery ordeal we must make up our minds to bear up manfully through the conflict, and acquit ourselves like men. . . .

Nostradamus from Wikimedia

My One Hope Is Now On McClellan

2011-10-25T08:31:00.000-05:00

This entry is from A Cycle of Adams Letters 1861-1865 edited by Worthington Chauncey Ford.

This is a letter from Henry Adams to Charles Frances Adams, Jr. dated October 25, 1861.

Henry Adams was in London acting as secretary to his father, Charles Francis Adams Sr., when he wrote this letter to his brother, who was back in the states. It gives us an idea of the English perspective of the Union at that time.

You know how much encouragement we have had from your side. Every post has taken away on one hand what it brought of good on the other. It has by regular steps sapped the foundations of all confidence in us, in our institutions, our rulers and our honor. How do you suppose we can overcome the effects of the New York press? How do you suppose we can conciliate men whom our tariff is ruining? How do you suppose we can shut people's eyes to the incompetence of Lincoln or the disgusting behavior of many of our volunteers and officers. I tell you we are in a false position and I am sick of it.

My one hope is now on McClellan and if he fails us, then as I say I give it up. Here we are dying by inches. Every day our authority, prestige and influence sink lower in this country, and we have the mournful task of trying to bolster up a failing cause. Do you suppose I can go among the newspapers here and maintain our cause with any face, with such backing? Can I pretend to a faith which I did once feel, but feel no longer? I feel not seldom sorry in these days that I didn't follow my first impulse, and go into the army with the other fellows. Our side wants spirit. It doesn't ring as it ought, these little ups and downs, this guerilla war in Missouri and Kentucky, amount to nothing but vexation. Oh, for one spark of genius! I have hopes of McClellan for he doesn't seem to have made any great blunders, but I don't know.

Henry Adams

Battalions Strengthened by Ideas

2011-10-24T07:00:00.001-05:00

This entry is from Lucy Larcom: Life, Letter and Diary edited by Daniel Dulany Addison.

Larcom was a former mill worker, poet, teacher and abolitionist. Here is any entry from her diary wherein she discusses a lecture she heard by Charles Sumner, who was known as a powerful orator and the leader of the antislavery forces in Massachusetts.

October 22. [1861] I heard Charles Sumner on the Rebellion : my first sight and hearing of the great anti-slavery statesman. He was greeted with tremendous applause, and every expression of opposition to slavery was met with new cheers. . . . .

One idea which he presented seemed to me to be worth all the rest, and worth all the frothy spoutings for "Union" that we hear every day; it was that our battalions must be strengthened by ideas, by the idea of freedom. That is it. Our men do not know what they are fighting for; freedom is greater than the Union, and a Union, old or new, with slavery, no true patriot will now ask for. May we be saved from that, whatever calamities we may endure!

Charles Sumner, photograph by Brady from Library of Congress Collection

Why I Enlisted

2011-10-23T09:41:00.000-05:00

This entry is from Brother of Mine, The Civil War Letters of Thomas and William Christie, edited by Hampton Smith.

William and Thomas Christie were half brothers, 13 years apart in age. They served in the same Regiment, the 1st Minnesota.

Soldiers must have had various reasons for enlisting. In this entry, Thomas, the elder of the two brothers, writes home shortly after enlisting explaining to his family why.

October 21, 1861

. . . .I shall not deny that motives other than strictly patriotic have had an influence upon me; but I don't think these other motives are wrong. I do want to 'see the world,' to get out of the narrow circle inwhich I have always lied, to 'make a man of myself,' and to have it to say in days to come that I, too, had a part in this great struggle. I lay all these workings of my mind frankly before you; it is for you to say if they are wrong. You know, my dear father, that I have never concealed anything from you. Do forgive me, and have Mother forgive me, for acting now in a way to pain you. I feel sure, even as I write, that you will not only give me your blessings -- but that you will even be glad to have your son enrolled among the Defenders of the Union. But whether that be so or not, I must go. . . .

2 unidentified soldiers in Union shell jackets, from Library of Congress collection.

By Odd Circumstances

2011-10-21T13:15:00.000-05:00

This entry us from Elisha Frank Paxton, Brigadier-General, C.S.A, Composed of His Letters from Camp and Field While an Officer in the Confederate Army, with an Introductory and Connecting Narrative collected and Arranged b his Son, John Gallatin Paxton, and can be found on the the Documenting the South website. Paxton eventually become a general, but at the time he wrote this letter he had just been promoted to a major. Paxton died in combat leading the famed Stonewall Brigade during the Battle of Chancellorsville. Here is an excerpt from a touching letter he wrote to his wife.

Centreville, Va., October 20, 1861.

. . . Our separation must continue until this sad war runs its course and terminates, as it must some day, in peace. Then I trust we may pass what remains of life together, loving each other all the better from a recollection of the sadness we have felt from the separation. I am sometimes reminded of you, and the strong tie which binds me to you, by odd circumstances. The other day I saw an officer, who, like myself, has left wife and children at home, riding by the camp, with another woman on horse-back, from a pleasure excursion up the road; and I could not help feeling that in seeking pleasure in such a source he was proving himself false to the holiest feeling and the highest obligation which is known on earth. I thought if I had acted thus faithless to you and our marriage vow, I should feel through life a sense of baseness and degradation from which no repentance or reparation could bring relief. If I know myself, I would not exchange the sweet communion with my absent wife, enjoyed through the recollections of the past and the hopes of the future, for any temporary pleasure which another might offer. I would rather live over again in memory the scenes of seven long years, when we talked of our love and our future, our ride to Staunton on our wedding-day, and our association since then, chequered here and there with events of sadness and sorrow, than accept any enjoyment which ill-timed passion might prompt me to seek from another. I trust, Love, this feeling may grow with every day which passes, and that I may always have the satisfaction of knowing my devotion and fidelity merit the affection which your warm heart lavishes upon me.

Elisha Franklin Paxton, from Wikimedia Commons

The Word of God is Not Bound

2011-10-19T07:00:00.002-05:00

This entry is from the Tennessee Baptist, October 19, 1861 as cited by the Tennessee Historical Commission in the Tennessee Civil War Sourcebook, found at Art Circle Public Library, Crossville, TN website.

The Word of God is Not Bound.

We do not believe in giving up to misfortune, or to cowering before difficulties, though they seem insurmountable. When it seemed impossible to print the Word of God in the South for our soldiers and Sabbath Schools, at a time when no move was making in any quarter to procure plates, God opened before us "a door of entrance" and the plates were procured and laid upon the press, and been printed by thousands of copies daily.

The next thing was to procure boards and muslin, etc., with which to bind these captions. Our book binder procured a large stock in Louisville, but the very day before they were to come through the hostilities between Tennessee and Kentucky broke out, a railroad bridge was burnt, and all communication cut off.

We have only stock enough to bind Testaments for a short time longer, when the work must cease. Now what can be done? Cannot this seemingly insurmountable difficulty be overcome? It can, if our sisters and the merchants and the shop keepers will give us that which is of little or no use to them, the old pasteboards, lying about their houses and stores in the shape of bonnet and lace, and dress, and skirt, and shoe boxes, etc., and forward them to us at once by express. See the plan in an appeal to our sisters. Those interested in the cause in the South could send us in one week pasteboards [fold in paper] to the whole Confederate army, and we believe they will answer by an immediate effort, this urgent call.

This work is a good work, and we believe that it will be achieved in spite of blockades. God often tests the zeal and devotion of his people, or rather gives it an opportunity to manifest itself that all may see and admire it.

Tennessee Baptist, October 19, 1861.

Unidentified young soldier. Photograph shows book, probably a bible, in vest pocket. From Library of Congress collection.

They Have A Chance of Being Shot for Abraham Lincoln

2011-10-17T07:00:00.000-05:00

This entry is a letter from King Loepold to Queen Victoria. "Leopold, King of the Belgians writes to his niece, Queen Victoria, expressing his views on the situation in America. The 'Paris' and 'Robert' he referred to in the letter immediately following are the comte de Paris and the duc de Chartres. Both young men came to this country with their uncle, the prince de Joinville, and with him joined McClellan's Army of the Potomac." (From" Europe Looks at the Civil War, an anthology edited by Bell Becker Sideman and Lillian Friedman.)

Laeken, 17th October 1861
My Beloved Victoria:

. . . . I regret much Paris and Robert having joined the Federal Army, mixing in a civil war!! The object is to show courage, to be able to say, "Ils se sont beaucoup distingues." They have a chance of being shot for Abraham Lincoln and the most rank Radicalism. I don't think that step will please in France, where Radicalism is at discount fortunately. The poor Queen is very unhappy about it, but now nothing can be done, only one may wish to see them well out of it. Poor Queen!. . .

Your devoted and only Uncle, Leopold R.

(A. C. Benson and Viscount Esher, eds. Letters of Queen Victoria)

Leopold I, King of the Belgians and Uncle of Queen Victoria, from Wikimedia Commosn

My Country, May She Be Right

2011-10-14T08:17:00.000-05:00

Lucius Quintus Cincinatus Lamar II, who Chesnut speaks of in this quote was a politician and was involved in raising and funding the 19th Mississippi Volunteer Infantry of which he became Lieutenant Colonel.

Lamar (L.Q.C., and the cleverest man I know) said to me in Richmond, in one of those long talks of ours, "Slavery is too heavy a load for us to carry." We agreed to take up David Crockett's slogan, "My country, may she be right -- but my country, right or wrong."

Lucius Quintus Cincinatus Lamar II, photograph by Matthew Brady from Library of Congress collection.

Life Spared by the Masonic Sign

2011-10-13T08:25:00.000-05:00

In October 1861 The Southern Federal Union of Milledgeville, Georgia reported on a death at Manassas with a unique twist.

Life Spared at Manassas by the Masonic Sign --

A gallant Georgia officer was shot down as he was forming his company in line of battle on Manassas Plains, and refusing to be taken from the field while in the exposed position, was again wounded, each time mortally. His regiment, the 8th Georgia, being compelled to fall back during an overwhelming charge of the enemy, the poor fellow, unable to move was made prisoner -- had his watch and money taken from him, and was about to be bayoneted, when he gave the Masonic sign. They now removed his boots to relieve his suffering, and laid him beside a tree to die. The life thus spared, owing to a vigorous constitution and religiously observed habits, was prolonged thirty days. This was the fate of Order Sergeant O. B. Eve, of the Miller Rifles of Rome, Georgia.

Another soldier from the 8th Georgia Infantry Regiment, Private R. Cecil Johnson.
Johnson was also killed during the war, in 1863. From the Library Of Congress Collection.

Coming or Going

2011-10-12T07:00:00.001-05:00

"It has been definitely ascertained since my last dispatch that the enemy are not now in force in front and they they have retired," writes McClellan in the telegraph shown below.

Earlier that day October 12, 1861, McClellan received intelligence that a Confederate force was approaching the Union lines in Northern Virginia. It wasn't until later he learned that the intelligence was faulty, and that must have been when he wrote this telegram to Lincoln.

Incidentally, this was the same date that McClellan's daughter, Mary, was born.

From the Library of Congress Collection

My Knees Knocked Together

2011-10-11T09:28:00.000-05:00

This entry is from United States Sanitary Commission Soldiers' Letters From Camp, Battlefield, and Person edited by Lydia Minturn Post.

In a letter dated October 11 1861, Walton Grinnell describes an engagement between the United States ship-of-war Richmond and a rebel steamer on the Mississippi River. This appears to be Grinnell's first battle encounter and it is all so new and exciting to him. The editor noted that Mr. Grinnell was 17 years old at the time.

Day before yesterday our ship had a sharp engagement with the enemy—a naval action! For three hours the shells were bursting and whizzing around us, but only five took effect — wounding three, but killing none, thank Heaven !

To explain: At one o'clock a rebel steamer was discovered up the river. An hour afterwards—greatly to our astonishment, I can assure you—she very pluckily opened fire upon us. At first we laughed at what we called her impudence; but as her shells began to fall around us, and as we found our heaviest gun failed to reach her, things looked disagreeable.

I will confess, and frankly tell you, that the first five or six shells that came whizzing through our rigging made me tremble all over; my knees knocked together; my mouth was bound; I could hardly speak, hardly breathe; I was frightened. But as soon as we " beat to quarters," and I was ordered to my division, all fear left me. The shells still whizzed, but I neither heard nor cared for them. I was intent upon my duty, and, as my division had all the fighting to do, being the only one bearing upon the enemy, I was too much absorbed in the working of my gun to think of any thing else; and I can assure you I felt as happy and unconcerned as ever in my life.

The rebel (who, by the by, was the New York tugboat William H. Webb, armed with four broadsides and two heavy 32-pound rifles) was our superior, inasmuch her guns ranged quite a half mile beyond ours. About one hundred shots were exchanged, and I do not think a single one of our shots hit the enemy.

Half-past 12 p. m., October 11th. The "Webb" is again in sight, and we are preparing for action. I wish it was all over, for I am exceedingly doubtful of the result. Two o'clock p. m. The ship is cleared, and we have given the enemy eight or ten shots, but she does not return them. She is evidently " playing us some trick," but we will never "give up the ship;" and if we only get our rifle 42's (which are expected daily), New Orleans will be ours before Christmas. Five o'clock. The " Webb" is out of sight, so I will continue rny account of the first engagement.

After firing from half-past one until four o'clock the enemy retired, leaving us as bewildered as we were relieved. Besides three shots in our hull, our mizen topmast backstays were shot away. We are in a rather critical position : first, our draft has been increased by six additional guns; the water on the bar is low—we cannot cross: second, the enemy can steam two knots to our one—we cannot run: third, the enemy's guns range further than ours—we cannot fight. These circumstances were communicated to the commodore, who said, " I thoroughly appreciate your position, and will leave myself for ' Pickens,' to obtain some rifle-guns." When these guns arrive, we can defy all seces-siondom."

My imagination has very often presented to me pictures so vivid that I thought they exceeded reality; but I am convinced that the terrible excitement and absorbing interest, the bursting shells and flying splinters, the enthusiasm and huzzas of the men, defy human power to describe. The man that says he felt no fear or trembling for the first few shots in an action, you may stamp as a coward. As for myself, I never had such a sensation—nothing so terrible. After each discharge from a gun, all the crew (officers included), except the loader, sponger, and powder-man, fell flat on their stomachs, thus avoiding the shell that may happen to strike on deck, for, in bursting, the splinters have a tendency to fly upwards. It is laughable to see them all go down at once; but I can assure you it is a very pleasant sensation to even think one's self out of the way of these terrible splinters; as one would ranch prefer being shot away with a solid ball, than to be mangled by one of these ugly missiles. So much for my first sensations in battle. Although I have before been under fire of musketry, yet I can fancy nothing comparable with the whizzing and bursting of rifle-shell.

Walton Grinnell, Acting-master U. S. steamer Nyack.

Unidentified sailor in Union uniform, from the Library of Congress Collection

A Ring With Strings Attached

2011-10-10T08:40:00.000-05:00

This entry come from The Abraham Lincoln Papers at the Library of Congress. It is a letter D. N Smith of California wrote Lincoln in which he enclosed a most unique gift, a wooden ring. The letter explains the ring's symbolism, and then the writer goes on to ask Lincoln a favor.

From D. N. Smith to Abraham Lincoln, October 10, 1861
San Bernardino California
October 10th 1861
Dear Sir,
Your meritorious acts, in behalf of our glorious republic, are worthy the highest commendation, of every lover of his country; & wishing to demonstrate my gratitude in more ways than by merely sustaining them; I send you a natural curiosity. Although not as great, as the Buck's horn chair [Seth Kinman, a California hunter and frontiersman, presented President Buchanan with a chair made from elk horns in 1857] it nevertheless seems fully as applicable. It seems but a simple wooden ring interspersed with specks of gold; but this is not all; in the first place, the wood from which it was made, is a rare shrub indigenous to the western slope of the Rockey Mountains; possessing peculiar medicinal properties. The bark is smooth, of a bright red colour, constrasting beautifuly with its dark green leaf; which gives the shrub an appearance of grandeur, not possessed by any of its associate Shrubery. It bears a fruit which in flavour is similar to a sour apple; from which I suppose it derives its spanish name, (mensenita.) The greatest curiosity pertaining to this ring; is the fact it was made by a freak of nature, as you can perceive from the grains of the wood running around the ring. It was a complete single tie of a twig, which had become perfectly consolidated, forming a loop in the centre, nearly as large as the present size of the ring; considering in connection with the above, the place from whence it was taken, & we have quite a remarkable ring. I broke it from a bush growing on the San Bernardino mountain which is the highest mountain in southern California.

Deffinition of the Ring
The Natural ring represents the geographical, & constitutional unity of the United States. When I found it, it was dry, at the heart rotten, & worms had commenced to destroy it. Emblematical of our government when it fell into your hands.
With judgment, Skill, Labour & the tools I brought to bear; I removed the decayed portions, destroyed the worms, & thus perfected the natural ring; As you will the United States. The thirtytwo golden stars (of pure quartz gold) in close proximity, represent the thirtytwo states east of the Rockey Mountains; & the two in the small of the ring our states on this side; though a little farther removed from the balance, we are nevertheless connected by the same principal or ring of Nature. The stars I cut from pure quartz gold in its original state; which represents the states in purity as they will be; when you have destroyed the polutions of past administrations.
With kind regard your humble subject
D. N. Smith
P. S. I am reading medicine, & you would confer a great favour, if you could give me a place in the army as assistant Surgeon; where I could gain much experience. I would be happy to serve my country thus. My constitution is to frail to join the army as a common Soldier
N. B. I send this by way of my Brother in Ohio, because the Post & Express offices are in the hands of the Secessionists, or at least those opposed to our administration, & I do not wish to excite their Suspicion

Petersburg, Va. Three surgeons of 1st Division, 9th Corps, Library of Congress Collection

The Perils of Peace

2011-10-07T07:00:00.003-05:00

This entry is from Debow's Review, Agricultural, commercial, industrial progress and resources, from the Oct-Nov 1861 issue, "Perils of Peace." Most likely the author of this piece is also the editor and proprietor himself, James Dunwoody Brownson DeBow. Debow was a former census superintendant, so he knew something about the ethnic make-up of the United States at the time of the Civil War.

What I find interesting about this quote is that Debow seems to have it all wrong. What he calls the North's weakness in the first sentence of the following quote, really became and even then was one of this country's strengths.

. . . . The weakness of the North proceeds entirely from its various and incongruous population. Her people have no opinions or objects in life in common. So soon as the war with the South is concluded, it is probable she will be dismembered and split up into three or four independent states or nations. Yankee ascendency has so far held her together, but that ascendency is now struggling for existence against the millions of foreigners who have become more numerous than the native Yankees.

The danger from too large an infusions of foreigners would be much greater here than at the North. . . .

. . . . . ”To Americans belong America!” But foreigners who have already settled among us are Americans. The people of other counties have no rights or interest in the South. They could not complain if we prohibited all immigration, much less can they complain when we only subject them to the disabilities usually imposed on foreigners. The right of citizenship in most countries, has ever been confined to the native-born. The ranting democracy of Jefferson and Jackson have largely imbued our people with the notion, that we only hold our country as trustees for “all the world and the rest of mankind.” National dignity as well as national security, required that the public mind should be disabused of such notions. . . ..

James Dunwoody Brownson DeBow as found at Census.gov (Debow served as superintending clerk of the census 1853-1855)

Parson Rippetoe Beheads General Sherman

2011-10-06T07:00:00.004-05:00

This entry is from the The Rebellion Record: A Diary of American Events, Volume III, 1862 edited by Frank Moore.

A Terrible Parson In Battle.—We have about come to the conclusion that the war correspondents for the Southern papers can beat those of the North. A correspondent of the Memphis Appeal says:—
"Parson Rippetoe, a Methodist preacher, and captain of a Virginia company, performed prodigies of valor at the first taking of Sherman's battery, (for it was taken, then lost, then again taken.) He cut the throats of the horses, and then engaged Lieutenant Sherman in a hand-to-hand conflict with sabres. After a ten minutes' fight—both being accomplished swordsmen—he severed Sherman's head from his body at one blow."
We had a pleasant conversation with General Sherman in our office on Monday last, and he did not appear to be aware that he had been beheaded. At any rate he did not allude to the somewhat interesting event. Possibly, however, his memory may have been affected by the operation, for we cannot suppose the Southern parson would exaggerate.—Providence Journal.

William Tecumseh Sherman as found at genrealsandbrevets.com

Specimens of Secessional School Books

2011-10-05T07:00:00.000-05:00

This entry is from Vanity Fair, Volume 3, 1861, and it is an excerpt from an article called "Specimens of Secessional School Books:"

Vanity Fair having discovered a want is resolved to supply it. Our Seceding brethren want food for the young mind free from the abolition virus, and we have accordingly prepared a series of Geogrophies, Spelling-books, Grammars &c, in which every idea is a native of the Sunny South, and therefore appropriate to Southern Sonnies. Our caveat is entered with the excellent Jeff.

FROM OUR SOUTHERN GEOGRAPHY
SOUTH CAROLINA. A vast empire, bounded on the North by the Arctic Ocean, East by Fort Sumter, South by the Tortugas, and West by the Pacific. The population is illimitable, the productions incalculable, its resources inexhaustible. The people are happy because the Better Half of themselves are slaves. Its Chivalry awes the World by valiant deeds; its navy defies the battle and the breeze.

Production – South Carolina produces chattels of every shade, to suit the taste of the purchaser.

Diseases – The prevailing disorders are violent Retches and Sicksession. A Dr. Jackson once invented a cure for these complaints.

Literature – The standard of literature is high. The Charleston Mercury, the journal of the western world, is renowned for the purity of its English and the elevation of its morals. Its circulation is enormous. It justly holds every man a traitor who does not steal from the U. S. Government.

OUR SECESSION GRAMMAR
The peculiarity of this work is its proper use of terms. For instance we say “the noun is the slave of the verb.” “The verb is the master of the accusative.” Great stress is laid on Passives and Supines. Obedience is taught in every line. . . .

Vanity Fair Cover from University of Michigan 's Online collection

I Have No Money To Send You

2011-10-04T07:00:00.002-05:00

This entry comes for the University of Virginia's Valley of the Shadow Project. It is an excerpt from a letter dated October 4, 1861 written by Henry H. Dedrick, a private in the 52nd Virginia Infantry, to his wife who was holding down the fort back at the home front in Rockingham County, Virginia.

Thousands of soldiers' letters sent home must have said similar things, but it is touching none the less, and reminds us that the war affected just about everyone.

. . . . Dear Wife I have no money to send to you and I don't know when I will get any and if you want any you must try to sell some rye if you can spare it, and if you can't spare it you must try and sell one of the calves and get what you can. You must try and do the best you can while I am absent from you, but I hope and trust that I will return again safe and sound. And if I should not return no more I hope that we will meet in heaven and there to meet to part no more for ever and ever. I want you all to pray for me that I may get there and I will do all I can to meet you all there. I thank god that he has made it so plain that I can just see how I am placed . . .

Unidentified Confederate Soldier from the Library of Congress Collection

Their Cause is Slavery

2011-10-01T07:00:00.014-05:00

This entry is excerpts from a speech made by Charles Sumner on October 1, 1861 before the Republican State Convention at Worcester, Massachusetts entitled Union and Peace! How They Shall Be Restored.

Sumner was known as a powerful orator and the leader of the antislavery forces in Massachusetts.

[Upon the appearance of Mr. Sumner on the platform, he was most cordially greeted by the whole convention and the large audience in the galleries. Hon. H. L. Dawes President of the Convention, introduced him in a few felicitous words whereupon the warm applause of the vast assembly burst forth again with great enthusiasm, ending the three rousing cheers.]

. . . .Slavery. Often have I exclaimed, in times past, that our first great object was the Emancipation of the National Government, so that it should no longer be the slave of Slavery, ready to do its bidding in all things. But this victory has been won. It was won first by the ballot box, when Abraham Lincoln was elected President of the United States; [applause] — and it was won the second time by the cartridge box, when, at the command of the President, the guns of Fort Sumter returned defiance to the rebel artillery. [Three cheers.] Such was the madness of Slavery that the first was not enough. Unhappily, the second was needed to complete the work.

. . . It is Slavery which has been the origin of our party divisions, keeping men asunder who ought to act together. But with the expulsion of this disturbing influence, the apology for these divisions has ceased. All patriots,—all who truly love their country—may now act together; no matter in what party combination they may have formerly appeared; no matter, of what accent is the speech by which their present duties are declared. Call them democrats, Union men, native or foreigners, what you will, are we not all engaged in a common cause ?

. . . .The Government is assailed by a Rebellion without precedent. Never before since Satan warred upon the Almighty has Rebellion assumed such a front; [applause]—and never before has it begun in such a cause. The rebels are numerous and powerful; and their cause is Slavery. [Sensation.]

It is the very essence of rebellion to be audacious, unhesitating, unscrupulous. Rebellion sticks at nothing; least of all, with a rebellion which began in Slavery. It can be sucessfully encountered only by a vigor and energy which shall surpass its own. Patriotism surely is not less potent as a motive than treason. It must be invoked. By all the memorial of your fathers, who founded this Republic and delivered to you the precious heritage; and by all the sentiments of gratitude for the good you have enjoyed beneath its protecting care, you are summoned to its defence. Defence, did I say? It if with mortification that I utter the word; but you all know the truth.

The rebel conspirators have set upon us, and now besiege the National Government. They besiege, it at Washington, where are the President and his Cabinet and the national archives. They besiege it at Fort Monroe on the Atlantic, at St. Louis on the Mississippi, and now they besiege it in Kentucky. Everywhere we are on the defensive. [Sensation.] Strongholds have been wrested from us. Soldiers gathered under the folds of our national flag have been compelled to surrender. Citizens, whose only offense has been their loyalty, have been driven from their homes. Bridges have been burned. Railways have been disabled. Steamers and ships have been seized. The largest navy yard of the country has been appropriated. Commerce has been hunted on the sea, and property, where. ever it can be reached, ruthlessly robbed or destroyed.. . .

Do you ask in whose name all this has been done. The answer it easy. Not "in the name of God and the Continental Congress,'' as Ethan Allen summoned Ticonderoga; but "in the name of Slavery." Yes; in the name of Slavery, and nothing else, has all this crime, destruction and ravage been perpetrated; and the work is still proceeding.

Look at the war as you will, and you will always see Slavery. Never were the words of the Roman orator more applicable: Nullum facinus exstit nisi per te; nullum flagitium sine te. "No guilt unless through thee, no crime without thee." Slavery is its inspiration; its motive power; its end and aim ; its be-all and end-all.

It is often said that the war will make an end of Slavery. This it probable. But it it surer still, that the overthrow of Slavery will at once make an end of the war. [Tumultuous applause and cheers.] . . .

Charles Sumner, from the Library of Congress Collection

The Bell-Wether

2011-09-30T07:00:00.001-05:00

This entry is from the Louisville Journal as related in The Rebellion Record: A Diary of American Events, Volume II, 1862 edited by Frank Moore.

Among the Tennesseeans now in camp in Kentucky is a little fellow of about five feet four inches, with gray and grizzled beard, dilapidated nose, and an eye as keen as a fish-hawk's. The manner of his escape was remarkable and highly ingenious. He headed a large squad of his neighbors, and eluded the rebel pickets by wearing a big sheep's bell on his head, and bleating away over the mountains, followed by a herd of men who did likewise. By this stratagem he deceived the rebel scouts, and passed within a few feet of them through one of the most important mountain passes. Old Macfarland (for that is the name of the hero of the bell) thus won the sobriquet of the bell-wether, by which name he passes all through the camps. He is a rough and good-humored old man, with a full supply of mother wit, and speaks of himself as ‘under size and over age for a soldier,’ which he literally is.

Unidentified soldier in Union cavalry uniform and Hardee hat with European import saber
and French LeFaucheux pinfire revolver from the Library of Congress Collection

Share and Retribution

2011-09-28T21:50:00.007-05:00

Today's entry is from the New York Times, September, 29, 1861, written by an unidentified ardently pro Union man attacking the descendants of two of the country's most revered politicians, George Washington and Henry Clay. These descendants were John A. Washington great nephew of George Washington and James B. Clay son of Henry Clay, both Confederates.

John A. Washington owned Mount Vernon and had sold it a couple of years prior to the outbreak of the war to the Mount Vernon Ladies' Association of the Union, thus saving it from a state of disrepair. This group still oversees Mount Vernon today. Washington served as an aide-de-camp on the staff of General Robert E. Lee during the war.

James B. Clay was the son of Henry Clay. The house that Clay originally built was deteriorating, so James B. Clay tore it down and built a new house, which still stands today. James B. Clay also was Kentuckian who sympathized with the Confederates, and was arrested and charged with treason. He eventually ended up in Canada, where he died from tuberculosis.

SHARE AND RETRIBUTION.
JOHN A. WASHINGTON, as heir to the Father of his Country, became the owner of Mount Vernon, the spot of all others which the American people hold most sacred, for there lived and died the great WASHINGTON, and there his remains are entombed.

In Kentucky is another consecrated spot, a Mecca towards which the pilgrimages of American patriotism must always tend, for there lived HENRY CLAY, and there is his grave. His home, with its surroundings, and the tomb of the honored dead, passed into the hands of his son and heir, JAMES B. CLAY.

JOHN A. WASHINGTON made merchandise of his inheritance, speculating through its agency upon the patriotism of the American people, -- levying black mail upon their affection for the memory of his great ancestor! It was fit that such a man should be a traitor. Without treason against the Union, his mercenary soul would lack the rounded proportions of perfect degeneracy, and the dishonor and shame which he brought upon the name he bore would be incomplete. He therefore became a traitor.

JAMES B. CLAY tore away and bartered for money, even the beams of his father's house, fashioned into canes and snuff-boxes, making his slaves the vendors -- exacting from them a rigid accounting at night for their sale of the sacred relics during the day. It was fit that he, too, should be a traitor, that the gulf between his name and the fame of his illustrious father should be wide as eternity.

JOHN A. WASHINGTON was killed in an ignoble skirmish which his treason occasioned, but which even his cowardice could not enable him to shun.

JAMES B. CLAY, having been detected in his treason and arrested in his flight, is on his way to prison at Fort Lafayette, where he will remain to be pointed out among hundreds of other rebels as the man who was traitor to his name as well as to his country the least excusable and the meanest of them all.

John A Washington from findagrave.com

James B Clay from Henryclay.org

Inciting Men to Heroic Deeds

2011-09-28T07:00:00.013-05:00

This entry was found at the Library of Congress website in an article about Civil War bands.

One of the few references to bands in the Civil War appeared in Dwight's Journal, dated September 28, 1861:

Gilmore's celebrated band has been engaged to accompany Col. Stephenson's Regiment to the war. The band will consist of sixty-eight pieces, including twenty drummers and twelve buglers. Such a band was never enjoyed by a regiment before, and it will probably incite the men to heroic deeds if loyal men can need any new stimulus in such a time as this. The band will appear three times more before the Boston public at the Promenade Concerts.

Band of the 8th New York State Militia, Arlington, Va., June, 1861, from the Library of Congress Collection

The Black Drink

2011-09-27T12:29:00.000-05:00

This entry is from the Raleigh Standard as related in The Rebellion Record: A Diary of American Events, Volume II, 1862 edited by Frank Moore.

Yopon Tea.—In view of the probable scarcity of tea and coffee during the war, we see the papers are recommending the use of the leaves and twigs of the Yopon, an evergreen which grows spontaneously on our coast. The Yopon is a common drink on the banks, and is highly esteemed by many. We have heard it said that when it is well cured, it is greatly improved when the milk and molasses are boiled with it. It is rather vulgar to use sugar for sweetening Yopon. Molasses is the thing. A venerable lady, who lived to a considerable age on the banks, once speaking of the healthiness of Yopon as a drink, said, "Bless the Lord! Yopon has kept me out of heaven these twenty years."—Raleigh Standard.

It is interesting to note that according to Wiki, Native Americans also made tea from this plant, more commonly called yaupon today. The Native Americans referred to it as "black drink", and used it for male only purification and unity rituals. The ceremony included vomiting, hence its current-day scientific name for this plant, Ilex vomitoria. The active ingredient is caffeine, so I imagine it would make a good substitute for beverages otherwise scarce.

Photograph of an unidentified Confederate solider from North Carolina from the Library of Congress collection. He doesn't look old enough to drink the likes of Yopon tea.

Colorful Cavalry Coats

2011-09-25T19:20:00.000-05:00

This entry comes from Famous Adventures and Prison Escapes of the Civil War. This is from A War Diary of Union Woman in the South, by Dora Richards Miller, edited by G. W. Cable. The diary was originally published anonymously to protect the writer's identity. She was a teacher in New Orleans.

The entry is from September 25, 1861.

Sept. 25.—When I opened the door of Mrs. F.'s room on my return, the rattle of two sewing-machines and a blaze of color met me.

"Ah, G., you are just in time to help us; these are coats for Jeff Thompson's men. All the cloth in the city is exhausted; these flannel-lined oil-cloth table-covers are all we could obtain to make overcoats for Thompson's poor boys. They will be very warm and serviceable."

" Serviceable— yes! The Federal army will fly when they see those coats! I only wish I could be with the regiment when these are shared around." Yet I helped make them.

Seriously, I wonder if any soldiers will ever wear these remarkable coats—the most bewildering combination of brilliant, intense reds, greens, yellows, and blues in big flowers meandering over as vivid grounds; and as no table-cover was large enough to make a coat, the sleeves of each were of a different color and pattern. However, the coats were duly finished. Then we set to work on gray pantaloons, and I have just carried a bundle to an ardent young lady who wishes to assist. A slight gloom is settling down, and the inmates here are not quite so cheerfully confident as in July.

General M. Jeff Thompson, from the Mollus Collection ,
United States Army Heritage and Education Center, Carlisle, PA.

Contrabands Enlist In The U. S. Navy

2011-09-25T08:23:00.000-05:00

This entry commemorates the first time African Americans were officially allowed to serve in the U. S. military, in the Navy. It would still be some some time before they were allowed to serve in other branches of the military. It comes from the Official Records of the Union and Confederates Navies in the War of the Rebellion, Series 1, Volume 12, published in 1894, an order of the Secretary of the Navy, Gideon Welles, to Flag Officer Du Pont dated September 25, 1861.

Sir: The Department finds it necessary to adopt a regulation with respect to the large and increasing number of persons of color, commonly known as "contraband," now subsisted at the navy yards and on board of ships of war. They can neither be expelled from the service to which they have resorted nor can they be maintained unemployed; and it is not proper that they should be compelled to render necessary and regular services without a stated compensation. You are therefore authorized, when their services can be made useful, to enlist them for the naval service under the same forms and regulations as apply to other enlistments. They will be allowed, however, no higher rating than boys, at a compensation of $10 per month and one ration a day.

I am, respectfully, your obedient servant, Gideon Welles.

It Seems Like Killing Friends

2011-09-24T17:35:00.000-05:00

This entry is a letter from Charles N. Tenney to Adelaide E Case and comes from the University of Virginia Library ( Manuscript letter from the Corinne Carr Nettleton Civil War Collection). Tenney was from the 7th Ohio Regiment. In a letter dated September 24, 1861 Tenney discusses how much he hates the war, but that he is still patriotic.

Oh! shall I be so gald when this cruel unholy war is ended. it seems so like killing friends. but in the language of the hoary traitor Wise himself, who said at the time of the John Brown raid, "Treason must be put down", and I could conscientiously shoot him and his associates Floyd and Lee like dogs. Don't think for a moment dear Addie because I say I am tired of war, that I am tired of supporting the glorious old Stars and Stripes on the contrary I would not accept a discharge if one was offered me until every ______ banner be trampled in the dust, and every traitor hung.

Henry A Wise, John B Floyd and Robert E Lee, all who were Confederate Generals in 1861.

An Aaron Burr or a Conceited and Imbecile Fool

2011-09-24T07:00:00.002-05:00

This entry is from the Abraham Lincoln Papers at the Library of Congress, transcribed and annotated by the Lincoln Studies Center, Knox College, Galesburg, Illinois.

This is a letter written to Lincoln, from "A Southerner", on September 24, 1861, and the writer thinks that Fremont should be removed from his post, and says so in no uncertain terms.

Baltimore Septr 24th 1861
Oh for the Sake of our dear Country remove Fremont.-- He is not fit to be entrusted in this critical hour with the Nation's interest.

Would McClellan or McDowell have acted as he has. McDowell was only unfortunate -- Fremont is either imbecile &; unfit for his position or I fear, yes dread he is worse. He is either an Aaron Burr or a conceited & imbecile fool.

A Southerner.
Lyon!! Sacrificed
Missouri! Overrun.
Mulligan! left to shift for himself & compelled to surrender.--
Our Countrys Flag!! trailed by the exulting miscreants in the dust!!!
The Union Cause!!
The Cause of our dear Country!! dispirited, confidence lost & a stab to the Cause of Liberty.
All these lie at Fremont's door!!
Who can deny it?
P. S. --
Look at it in all its bearings! give circumstances all their weight, Freemont's course is the very antipode of Genl McClellan or Genl Wool. They would have anticipated Price.

The Country has the fullest confidence in them, that Freemont can never now enjoy no matter how brilliant his future success. The Country cannot confide in Freemont Mark me.--
And another strong point is His impudent & unsoldier like letter to you-- He has to learn his Horn book over. The first lesson the Cornerstone Obey! A man may Obey with that sullen contempt that is worse than disobeying. When he asked so insolently for a general order, well for the Country had the General order been his dismissal Look to him! Look to him!! Beware of him ere too late.
Better men than Fremont have been deposed for circumstances over which they had no control -- that assume the lustre of virtues when compared to me acts & idle dalying of this cold hearted & self conceited fool. He L refuses audiences while the best sons of the U States are Sacrificed!

Fremont by Frabronius, from Library of Congress Collection

A Woman Determined to Follow Her Man

2011-09-23T07:00:00.027-05:00

This entry is from My Story of the War by Mary Ashton Rice Livermore. Livermore was a journalist, and an advocate for woman's right.

Here she tells of an incident happening to the 19th Illinois Regiment. This regiment left Camp Douglas for action on July 12, 1861, so the the episode that Livermore describes here would have happened around that time.

. .. . I remember another occurrence of that afternoon when we visited the camp of the Nineteenth Illinois. I was watching companies that were drilling, a good deal amused at their awkwardness and their slow comprehension of the orders given them. One of the captains came to me, with an apology for intrusion, and begged to know if I noticed anything peculiar in the appearance of one of the men, whom he indicated. It was evident at a glance that the "man" was a young woman in male attire, and I said so. "That is the rumor, and that is my suspicion," was his reply. The seeming soldier was called from the ranks and informed of the suspicions afloat, and asked the truth of them. There was a scene in an instant. Clutching the officer by the arm, and speaking in tones of passionate entreaty, she begged him not to expose her, but to allow her to retain her disguise. Her husband had enlisted in his company, she said, and it would kill her if he marched without her. "Let me go with you!'' I heard her plead. "Oh, sir, let me go with you!" She was quietly conducted outside the camp, when I took her in charge. I wished to take her to my home; but she leaped suddenly from the carriage before we were half way from the camp, and in a moment was lost amid the crowds hastening home from their day's work.

That night she leaped into the Chicago river, but was rescued by a policeman, who took her to the Home of the Friendless. Here I found her, a few days later, when I made an official visit to the institution. She was extremely dejected, and could not be comforted. It was impossible to turn her from her purpose to follow her husband. "I have only my husband in all the world," she said, "and when he enlisted he promised that I should go with him; and that was why I put on his clothes and enlisted in the same regiment. And go with him I will, in spite of everybody." The regiment was ordered to Cairo, and the poor woman disappeared from the Home the same night. None of us doubted but she left to carry out her purpose.

An Illustration from Mary Livermore's book

Purely Political

2011-09-22T07:00:00.003-05:00

Today's entry is a letter written by Abraham Lincoln to Orville Hickman Browning, a personal friend of Lincoln's from Illinois who was appointed to fill Stephen Douglas' seat in the U. S. Senate after his untimely death.

Lincoln discusses his decision to annul Fremont's recent proclamation, calling it purely political, and then asks for his friend's support.

Private & confidential.
My dear Sir
Yours of the 17th is just received; and coming from you, I confess it astonishes me. That you should object to my adhering to a law, which you had assisted in making, and presenting to me, less than a month before, is odd enough. But this is a very small part. Genl. Fremont’s proclamation, as to confiscation of property, and the liberation of slaves, is purely political, and not within the range of military law, or necessity. If a commanding General finds a necessity to seize the farm of a private owner, for a pasture, an encampment, or a fortification, he has the right to do so, and to so hold it, as long as the necessity lasts; and this is within military law, because within military necessity. But to say the farm shall no longer belong to the owner, or his heirs forever; and this as well when the farm is not needed for military purposes as when it is, is purely political, without the savor of military law about it. And the same is true of slaves. If the General needs them, he can seize them, and use them; but when the need is past, it is not for him to fix their permanent future condition. That must be settled according to laws made by law—makers, and not by military proclamations. The proclamation in the point in question, is simply "dictatorship." It assumes that the general may do anything he pleases———confiscate the lands and free the slaves of loyal people, as well as of disloyal ones. And going the whole figure I have no doubt would be more popular with some thoughtless people, than that which has been done! But I cannot assume this reckless position; nor allow others to assume it on my responsibility. You speak of it as being the only means of saving the government. On the contrary it is itself the surrender of the government. Can it be pretended that it is any longer the government of the U.S.———any government of Constitution and laws,———wherein a General, or a President, may make permanent rules of property by proclamation?

I do not say Congress might not with propriety pass a law, on the point, just such as General Fremont proclaimed. I do not say I might not, as a member of Congress, vote for it. What I object to, is, that I as President, shall expressly or impliedly seize and exercise the permanent legislative functions of the government.

So much as to principle. Now as to policy. No doubt the thing was popular in some quarters, and would have been more so if it had been a general declaration of emancipation. The Kentucky Legislature would not budge till that proclamation was modified; and Gen. Anderson telegraphed me that on the news of Gen. Fremont having actually issued deeds of manumission, a whole company of our Volunteers threw down their arms and disbanded. I was so assured, as to think it probable, that the very arms we had furnished Kentucky would be turned against us. I think to lose Kentucky is nearly the same as to lose the whole game. Kentucky gone, we can not hold Missouri, nor, as I think, Maryland. These all against us, and the job on our hands is too large for us. We would as well consent to separation at once, including the surrender of this capitol. On the contrary, if you will give up your restlessness for new positions, and back me manfully on the grounds upon which you and other kind friends gave me the election, and have approved in my public documents, we shall go through triumphantly.

You must not understand I took my course on the proclamation because of Kentucky. I took the same ground in a private letter to General Fremont before I heard from Kentucky.

You think I am inconsistent because I did not also forbid Gen. Fremont to shoot men under the proclamation. I understand that part to be within military law; but I also think, and so privately wrote Gen. Fremont, that it is impolitic in this, that our adversaries have the power, and will certainly exercise it, to shoot as many of our men as we shoot of theirs. I did not say this in the public letter, because it is a subject I prefer not to discuss in the hearing of our enemies. There has been no thought of removing Gen. Fremont on any ground connected with his proclamation; and if there has been any wish for his removal on any ground, our mutual friend Sam. Glover can probably tell you what it was. I hope no real necessity for it exists on any ground. Suppose you write to Hurlbut and get him to resign.

Your friend as ever
A. LINCOLN

O. H. Browning, from the Library of Congress Collection

Cousin Betsey Witherspoon

2011-09-21T07:00:00.019-05:00

This entry is from Mary Chesnut's Civil War, edited by C. Vann Woodward. Mary Chesnut was married to James Chesnut, United States Senator from South Carolina, 1859-1861, and afterward an Aide to Jefferson Davis, and a Brigadier General in the Confederate Army.

A cousin of Mary Chesnut's, Betsey Witherspoon, had recently been murdered by her slaves.

From entries dated September 21 and 24, 1861:

Last night when the mail came in, I was seated near the lamp. Mr. Chesnut, lying on a sufa at a little distance, called out to me, "Look at my letters and tell me about them."

I began to read one aloud; it was from May Witherspoon -- and a brok down. Horror and amazement was too much for me. Poor Cousin Betsey Witherspoon was murdered! She did not die peacefully, as we supposed, in her bed. Nurdered by her own people. Her negroes. . . .

Her household negroes were so insolent, so pampered and insubordinate, that she lived alone and at home. She knew, she said, that none of her children would have the patience she had with these people who had been indulged and spoiled by her until they were like spoiled children. Simply intolerable. . . .

. . . .Hitherto I have never thought of being afraid of negroes. I had never injured any of them. Why should they want to hurt me? Two-thirds of my religion consists of trying to be good to negroes because they are so in my power, and it would be so easy to be the other thing. Somehow today I feel that the found is cut away from under my feet. Why should they treat me any better than they have done Cousin Betsey Witherspoon?

Sweet potato planting, Hopkinson's Plantation, from Library of Congress Collection

The Iron Nerve of One Woman

2011-09-20T07:00:00.019-05:00

This entry is from Nashville Daily Gazette, September 20, 1861, but originally came from Raleigh [N. C. ] Standard , no date given., and is from document put together by the Tennessee Historical Commission found at the Art Circle Public Library, Crossville, Tennessee website.

"A BRAVE WOMAN."
A friend has communicated to us the following particulars showing the heroism of. . . Mrs. Julia H. Waugh. . . in Johnson county, East Tennessee, which entitles her to a place among the bravest of the brave. About the 10th of August a mob of about 150 men. . . led by Johnson, Grayson, Lock and others, commenced their depredations and insults in the county above named, near the North Carolina line, hunting down friends of the Confederate Government, and forcing the weak and defenseless to take the oath of allegiance to Lincoln.

A portion of this mob. . . fifty or sixty in number, visited the house of Mr. McQueen and demanded of his wife to know where he was. She refused, at the peril of her life, to tell them, and after a scune cursing, which they received from an old negro woman, who had no respect for Lincoln's minions, they left, and soon after visited the storehouse of Wm. R. Waugh, who was absent at the time. Their Captain marched his men up and surrounded the house and demanded of Mrs. Waugh all the arms and ammunition which her husband had. She told them her husband was absent, and had left her to take care of the store and defend the family.

They assured her that if she would quietly surrender the arms, she and the family would not be hurt. She refused. . . and gathering an axe, placed herself on the door of the building, and told them she would split the head of the first man who attempted to enter. She had with her her stepson, about 14 years of age, armed with a double-barreled gun and pistol-her daughter, about 18, armed with a repeater and a knife, and a young man who had volunteered to defend the building, was also armed. They could and would have killed a dozen or so of the mob if the attack had been made.

They endeavored to intimidate Mrs. W. but she defied them and taunted them with the sight of a Confederate flag, which they had threatened to take from her, but she told them that before they took that flag they would have to take her, and that while they were doing that, she would be certain to have her prize in the shape of a dead tory. And there she stood, the impersonation of collected courage, defying that large, angry, and desperate crowd, until at last the crowd, chagrined and mortified. . . slowly retired, and soon afterward disbanded. The iron nerve of one woman-on other occasions tender and gentle as a child-had met and turned back from their purpose some fifty or sixty desperate men.

Martial law, engraved by John Sartain from Library of Congress Collection

]

What The Cherokee Nation Did

2011-09-19T07:00:00.002-05:00

This entry is a letter written by John Ross to Opothleyoholo, the Creek Chief, assuring the chief and his people that he supported forming an alliance with the Confederates. Perhaps they found it hard to believe.

John Ross was Principal Chief of the Cherokee Native American Nation. He actually supported neutrality, but with Confederates winning battles such as Wilson's Creek so close to Oklahoma along with many Cherokees already aligned with the Confederates (some even had slaves), he probably felt pressure to officially support the Confederates.

This letter can be found at the Oklahoma Historical Society's website.

Park Hill, Cherokee Nation, September 19, 1861

Friends and Brothers: I have received a few lines from you, written on the back of a hasty note which I had written to the chiefs and headmen of your nation, and from which the following is an extract:

"Brothers: I am gratified to inform you that the Great Being who overrules all things for good has sustained me in my efforts to unite the hearts and sentiments of the Cherokee people as one man; and at a mass meeting of about four thousand males, at Tahlequah, with one voice we have proclaimed in favor of forming an alliance with the Confederate States, and shall thereby preserve and maintain the brotherhood of Indian nations in a common destiny."

Brothers, if it is your wish to know whether I had written the above note or, not, I will tell you that I did, and in order that you may be fully informed of the whole proceedings of the Cherokee people at the mass meeting stated, and of the reasons which influenced the people to adopt them, I send you herewith several printed copies of my address to the people in convention and of the resolutions adopted by them on that occasion, I wish you to have them carefully read and correctly interpreted, in order that you may fully understand them.

Brothers, my advice and desire, under the present extraordinary crises, is for all the red brethern to be united among themselves in support of our common rights and interests by forming an alliance of peace and friendship with the Confederate States of America.

Your Friend and brother,JOHN ROSS,
Principal Chief of the Cherokee Nation.

Quell Insurrection Where Ever You Find It

2011-09-17T07:00:00.003-05:00

Today's entry comes from the Library of Congress, and is an excerpt of a letter addressed to Abraham Lincoln.

Lincoln must have received many letters giving him advice. Here is one of them, written on September 17, 1861, from somebody in Ohio who was decidedly unhappy with Lincoln's reversal of Fremont's emancipation order. Much of the letter not quoted here is related to that, as are these final paragraphs. I think this letter expresses the frustration many Americans must have felt about this time, 150 years ago. All spelling and punctuation is part of the original letter.

Read, important

Chillicothe Ohio Sep 17. 1861.

. . . . Many think that you should issue a Proclamation in the strongest terms and most decisive manner calling on all citizens to return to their allegiance or You will by the “Eternal” disperse them, without mercy, how insignificant do the terms

“Mercy”

“Leniency”

“Sympathy”

“Peace”

“Brothers in arms”

“Breaking the Constitution”

“Deal kindly”

“Kentucky will go out,”

“Noose them”

“No law for it”

“Habius Corpus”

“Coertion”

“Subjugation”

“Abolition measures.”

“Black Republicanizm,” and all such phraises sound when compared with 350,000 soldiers now lying in tents to defend our Capital from destruction, it is a farce—

Action and that determinedly expressed by the highest powers is what the Country wants— Cant we have it from you—

Photograph by Anthony Berger, from Library of Congress Collection

The Battlefield Trance

2011-09-16T07:00:00.014-05:00

Today's entry is a letter from Charles N. Tenney to Adelaide E Case and comes from the University of Virginia library ( Manuscript letter from the Corinne Carr Nettleton Civil War Collection). Tenney was from the 7th Ohio Regiment.

A battlefield is a place all it's own, to which Tenney attests in this excerpt.

I had no idea of the feelings produced by being engaged in a battle until the fight at Cross Lanes. These feelings were indescribable. I had no thoughts of dodging the balls nor did I think of getting killed. All I did was to take one thought of friends (including you, my dear Addie) then watch for an opportunity to send some [unclear:"Secesh"] to "Kingdom Come" but although we saw them on our front, right, and left, I thought I would reserve my fire till I was sure of my man, or at least till the order was given to fire so lost a chance to discharge my piece. . .

Unidentified soldier in Union uniform and Ohio Volunteer Militia belt buckle
with bayoneted musket, from the Library of Congress Collection

Something To Listen For

2011-09-15T07:00:00.002-05:00

This entry is from then New York Times, September 15, 1861

A Suggestion for Scouting Parties.
To the Editor of the New-York Times. Permit me, through your columns, to suggest an idea that, if adopted, may be useful to our skirmishers, who appear to have been so often, and in several instances fatally surprised by the enemy. If the Captain of each scouting party would carry with him an instrument similar to the stethoscope, only larger, (which could be easily constructed by a good instrument maker,) occasionally applying it to his ear and the ground -- he could detect at a great distance, I think, the existence of approaching cavalry, [???] the footsteps of infantry; and thus by being prepared might save lives that would otherwise be lost by the guerilla system of warfare inaugurated by our antagonists. F.A. VON MOSCHIZISKER. NEW-YORK, Sept. 5, 1861.

Pleasontons Cavalry deployed as skirmishers, from Library of Congress Collection

Coffee! Coffee!! Coffee!!!

2011-09-14T07:00:00.002-05:00

This entry is from Brownlow's Knoxville Whig, and is a document compiled by the TENNESSEE HISTORICAL COMMISSION found at the Art Circle Public Library, Crossville, Tennessee website.

September 14, 1861 - "Coffee! Coffee!! Coffee!!!"
In these days of blockades, when coffee is scarce, prices high, and in many places none to be had at any price, many substitutes are tried.
I am glad to have it in my power to recommend a substitute which is so nearly like the genuine article as to satisfy the most delicate taste and deceive the oldest coffee drinkers. It is as follows:

Take the common Red Garden Beet, pulled fresh from the ground, wash clean, cut into small squares the size of a coffee grain or a little larger, toast till thoroughly parched, but not burned, transfer to the mill and grind. -The mill should be clean. Put from one pint to one and a half, to a gallon of water, and settle within an egg as in common coffee, make and bring to the table hot-with nice, fresh cream (not milk) and sugar. I will defy you or anybody else to tell the difference between it and the best Java.

Love Across the Borders

2011-09-13T07:00:00.006-05:00

This entry is from the Toledo Blade as related in The Rebellion Record: A Diary of American Events, Volume II, 1862 edited by Frank Moore.

An Affecting Incident.—A correspondent tells the following story:

An incident was related to me by a lady of Alexandria, which affords a striking but sad illustration of the effects of civil war. The lady in question has resided with an only daughter for many years in Alexandria.

About nine months since, a mutual friend introduced a young gentleman of Richmond to the family. The young people soon became intimately acquainted, and, quite naturally, fell in love. The parents on both sides consenting, the parties were betrothed, and the marriage day fixed for the 4th of July inst. In the mean time, however, the Virginians were called upon to decide on which side they would stand. The ladies declared themselves on the side of the Government, but the gentleman joined the forces of his State. No opportunity was afforded for the interchange of sentiments between the young folks, or any thing settled as to their future movements.

Matters thus remained till the 4th of July, when, exactly within an hour of the time originally fixed for the marriage, intelligence was received at the residence of the ladies that the young man had been shot by a sentry two days before, while attempting to desert and join his bride. His betrothed did not shed a tear, but standing erect, smiled, and then remarking to her mother, 'I am going to desert, too,' fell to the floor, while the blood bubbled from her lips, and this morning her remains were conveyed to their last resting-place.—Toledo Blade, July 18.

Unidentified Civil War Era Couple, from Library of Congress Collection

Ordering the Return of Fugitive Slaves

2011-09-12T07:00:00.004-05:00

Today's entry is from the New York Times, dated Thursday September 12, 1861, and concern the order to return Fugitive Slaves to their masters.

There is much feeling there among leading men, caused by the action of Gen. McClellan in ordering the return of fugitive slaves, or, rather, their arrest in camps and imprisonment in jail to await the claim of their masters. This is in contravention of the spirit of the letter addressed by the Secretary of War to Gen. Butler, for it constitutes our troops but an army of negro catchers. It is directly in contradiction to the letter of Fremont's proclamation, which has been unanimously accepted by the people of the loyal States as a true interpretation of our relation to the slaveholders in rebellion against the Government.

From Frank Leslie's illustrated newspaper, Oct. 12, 1861,
from the Library of Congress Collection.

The caption on the illustration above from Frank Leslie's illustrated newspaper reads, "LINCOLN -- "I'm sorry to have to drop you, Sambo, but this concern won't carry us both!"

I am not a Hobson, a Dewey, a Schley nor a Sampson

2011-09-11T08:18:00.001-05:00

The photograph below, from the Library of Congress, illustrates a one unexpected way a Bible saved a life not once, but twice, during the war.

I am not a Hobson, a Dewey, A Schley, nor a Sampson, but I was High Private in Co. C., 8th N. Y. Cavalry, and carried this little Testament in my blouse pocket which, in two battles saved my life from bullets, as represented in the above photo. The bullet in the upper corner was a shot at me at Cedar Creek Va., October 19, 1864. The bullet in the centre crashed into the Testament during the battle of Appomattox (better known as Lee's surrender), April 8th and 9, 1865. -- Walter G. Jones, McDonough, N.Y.

Advice for Soldiers on How to Deal with Contraband Slaves

2011-09-10T07:00:00.029-05:00

Today's entry is from Letters of Lydia Maria Child. Child was as an abolitionist, women's rights activist, Indian rights activist, writer, and Unitarian.

This is an excerpt from a letter she wrote to John Greenleaf Whittier dated September 10, 1861, and tells of a Union soldier serving on picket duty, and how he dealt with contraband slaves.

. . . .Another [Union soldier] who was ordered on picket-duty, of course at unusual risk of his life, was told that while he was sentinel, if any slave attempted to pass the lines, he must turn him back. He replied, "That is an order I will not obey." Being reminded of his duty to obey orders, he replied," I know the penalty I incur, and am ready to submit to it, but I did not enlist to do such work and I will not do it." The officers, being aware that his feeling would easily become contagious, modified the order thus : "If anybody tries to pass, ascertain that all's right before you allow them to pass ."

That night the moon shone brightly, and the sentinel on duty saw a moving in the bushes before him. "Who goes there? Answer quickly!" Up rose a tall ebony man. "Who are you ?" "A fugitive." "Are you all right?" "Yes, massa." " Then run quick."

A Ride for Liberty -- The Fugitive Slaves, painting by Eastman Johnson,
from the Brooklyn Museum as found on Wikimedia Commons

Call The Young and Middle-Aged Men of Ohio to Arms!

2011-09-09T07:00:00.007-05:00

This entry is from The Sherman Letters; Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891 edited by Rachel Sherman Thorndike.

The Civil War was mainly fought in the south, but some, including General Sherman saw a real threat to the Northern states in the early days of the war after Bull Run, which he writes to his brother.

September 9, 1861

. . . Ohio, Indiana and Illinois must sooner or later arm every inhabitant, and the sooner the better. I hardly apprehend that Beauregard can succeed in getting Washington, but should he, it will be worse to us than Manassass; but supposing he falls back, he will first try to overwhelm Rosecrans in Western Virginia and then look to Tennessee. We ought to have here a well appointed Army of a hundred thousand men. . . .

. . . .and if you are full of zeal you could not do better than to raise your voice to call the young and middle-aged men of Ohio to arms. If they can't get muskets then let them get such arms as can be gathered together, or if not that, then let them organize in companies in every township and be ready to collect together and move on short notice. I am amazed to see here and everywhere such apparent indifference when all know that Rebels threaten the Capital and are creeping around us in Missouri and Kansas. If they are united, and we disunited or indifferent, they will succeed. I knew this reaction was natural and to be expected, but it is none the less to be deplored. . .

William Tecumseh Sherman, from Generalsandbrevets.com

A Most Odious and Detestable Tyrant

2011-09-08T07:00:00.001-05:00

Today's entry is from the Southern Federal Union, September 10, 1861. Lincoln was not a popular guy south of the Mason Dixon line.

Horrible Tyrnny [sic] of Lincoln's Administration

We have made several extracts this week from Northern newspapers all going to show that Abraham Lincoln is one of the most odious and detestable tyrants that ever walked the earth. No man's life or property or good name is safe in the miserable country over which he domineers. The laws afford no protection for they are virtually suspended. The writ of Habeas Corpus is suspended, and men of irreproachable character are taken from their houses by soldiers, and send to the vile dungeons of Castle Lafayette without a trial, without the form of law, and without even knowing of what crime they are suspected. The liberty of the press is abolished. No newspaper is allowed to publish anything against the tyranny under which they groan; even the liberty of speech is denied. Men are every day mobbed and punished for speaking against the tyrant or his war. Even ladies of the highest position in society are sent to prison or confined to their own houses and guarded by soldiers. How long can such a state of things exist at the North? is the question. That depends upon the solution of another question, whether the Northern people have lost all spirit and pride of freemen. Who would have believed one year ago that the Northern people would so soon have submitted to a military despotism? We can't believe that such a state of things can continue long. Surely all manhood has not departed from the North and if not some Brutus or Cassius will be found to avenge his own and his country's wrongs at the same time.

Abraham Lincoln, from Library of Congress Collection

If The People Want to be Deceived, Let Them

2011-09-07T07:00:00.002-05:00

This entry comes from My Diary North and South by William Howard Russell.

Russell was an Irish reporter with The Times and is considered to have been one of the first modern war correspondents. He is commenting on a report in the newspapers, including the New York Times on September 5, 1861 that Jefferson Davis was dead.

Sept. 7th. —Yes; "Jeff. Davis must be dead." There are some touching lamentations in the obituary notices over his fate in the other world. Meanwhile, however, his spirit seems quite alive; for there is an absolute certainty that the Confederates are coming to attack the Capitol. Lieut. A. Wise and Lord A. Vane Tempest argued the question whether the assault would be made by a flank movement above or direct in front; and Wise maintained the latter thesis with vigour not disproportioned to the energy with which his opponent demonstrated that the Confederates could not be such madmen as to march up to the Federal batteries. There is actually "a battle" raging (in the front of the Philadelphia newspaper offices) this instant— Populus vult decipi — dedpiatur. [If the people want to be deceived let them]

Jefferson Davis by Currier and Ives, from Library of Congress Collection

Defectors, Deserters and Draft Dodgers

2011-09-06T07:00:00.025-05:00

Today's entry is from A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital by John Beauchamp Jones

September 6, 1863
. . .In Tennessee, North Carolina, Mississippi, and Georgia, we have accounts of much and growing defection, and the embodying of large numbers of deserters. Indeed, all our armies seem to be melting away by desertion faster than they are enlarged by conscription. They will return when there is fighting to do !

Currier & Ives illustration from the Library of Congress.

In the illustration above, the Library of Congress says, "The artist characterizes regular Confederate troops as unsavory, criminal types. Two of them (in uniform, left and center) have a well-dressed young gentleman in tow. The leader pulls on a rope around the reluctant recruit's neck, saying, "Come along you rascal! and fight for our King Cotton." The man protests, "Let me go, I tell you I'm a Union Man, and don't believe in your Southern Confederacy." He is prodded by the bayonet of a second soldier, gin flask protruding from his pocket, who urges, "Blast your Union! Them as won't go in for the war must be made to do it. Go ahead, or we'll hang you on the next tree." A second group follows. Two men in wide-brimmed hats have seized another gentleman, and urge him at bayonet point toward the left. One of the men, barefoot and ragged, with a knife and pistol in his belt, resembles a Mexican bandit. Atop a nearby hill two soldiers drag a third civilian along the ground by a rope around his neck."

That Arch Enemy of All True Prosperity

2011-09-05T07:00:00.040-05:00

Today's entry is from Lucy Larcom: Life, Letters and Diary by Daniel D Addison. This is an excerpt from an entry in her diary dated September 5, 1861.

Larcom was a former mill worker, poet, teacher and abolitionist, and well acquainted with John Greenleaf Whittier. In this quote she laments the war's ravages, and suggests it can not end until the real issue, slavery, is dealt with. But she says it with a passion hard to surpass.

. . . .But is it right to wrap one's own being in this mantle of peace, while the country is ravaged by war ? — its garments rolled in blood, brother fighting against brother to the death? The tide of rebellion surges higher and higher, and there is no sadder proof that we are not the liberty-loving people that we used to call ourselves, than to learn that there are traitors in the secret councils of the nation, in forts defended by our own bravest men ; among women, too : " Sisters ! oh, Sisters! Shame o' ladies ! " A disloyal woman at the North, with everything woman ought to hold dear at stake in the possible fall of this government, — it is too shameful! I hope every one such will be held in "durance vile " until the war is over.

But will it end until the question is brought to its true issue, — liberty or slavery ? I doubt it: and I would rather the war should last fifty years, than ever again make the least compromise with slavery, that arch-enemy of all true prosperity, that eating sin of our nation. Eather [sic] divide at once, rather split into a thousand pieces, than sink back into this sin!

Lucy Larcom from A Portrait Catalogue of the Books Published by Houghton, Mifflin & Co., 1906

Unconsumed By The Divine Vengeance

2011-09-04T07:00:00.034-05:00

This entry is from Southern Literary Messenger, September 1861, "Letter to the Rev. Dr. Tying of New York" written "by author of 'Black Diamond'", which is none other than Edward A. Pollard, who was a journalist and a one of the editors of The Richmond Examiner, and an outspoken secessionist.

. . .I will endeavor to write calmly ; but I will not be satisfied to write less than truthfully.

Some days ago, sir, in making a hasty journey into the North, in which I was enabled to observe mutely, but narrowly, the sentiments and the signs of that sections, there was put into my hands a New York paper of your own persuasion, containing a report of a Sunday sermon, delivered by you before the Bible Society, on the occasion of the presentation of Bibles to the troops enlisted for war upon the South. I will not foul my sheet with the name of this paper; and I deem it equally unnecessary, sir to assoil [sic] it by the extended report of your extraordinary vile remarks on this sabbattical [sic] occasion.

You were not satisfied to name my countrymen, and your "brethren" (to use the fondling term of the old poisoning hypocrisy of the North,) as "pirates;" you condemned them to a fate, at which demons only could rejoice ; you consigned them to nameless horrors, and declared your belief that "the Bible would singe and scald their polluted hands!" There were Northern troops standing around you in the clamor and passion for blood. They cheered you, sir. You replied that "they were worthy of the Bible:" in the animation that their shouts inspired, you exclaimed, "how their names will glisten in glory!" You boasted of your own prowess in the work of death. You declared in the bloody bravery and dialect of a murderer, that, as to the rebellious Southerners, "you would shoot them down as mad dogs!". . . .

. . . Great God, sir, is it possible that such awful, mocking, flippant, demon blasphemy should be uttered in the name of His church, and of His blessed Son, who "taketh away the sins of the world," and the utterer live on unconsumed by the Divine vengeance!. . . .

Father Thomas H. Mooney giving religious service, in front of tent,
to New York State Militia, from Library of Congress Collection

Help us Jefferson Davis!

2011-09-03T07:00:00.001-05:00

Jefferson Davis must have received numerous requests and petitions, and here is one of them. This entry is a letter signed by 34 patients of a Charlottesville, Virginia Confederate hospital, petitioning Davis to help with a situation of incompetent medical care and disease-causing food. This letter can be found at the U. S. National Archives website.

Hospital at Charlottesville Sep 3rd 1861

To his Excellency Jefferson Davis, Pres. Confed. States America
Dear Sir

We would humbly pray you to come to our help. Disease is wasting away the glorious Army of the Potomac. We have lost 10 times as many men by sickness as by warfare. We come to you because we regard you as our great chief, who is able and willing and anxious to reform all abuses.

What more enormous abuse than this -- one fifth of the army sick and no additional means used to prevent the spread of the fearful pestilence! We humbly protest that three fourths of the surgeons of the army are wholly unfit for their positions -- especially those who have been transferred into the confederate service from that of the state of Virginia and who were all appointed for political reasons and not with a view to their qualifications. The lives of hundreds of brave men will die at the door of the men in authority who let such base motives influence the in a matter so vital to all our interests. These surgeons have not ordered nor enforced the most ordinary sanitary requirements. . . .

. . . . We would, besides, humbly call your attention to another and a most important matter. We believe ours is the only army of modern times that attempts to cook their own wheaten bread. Whether so or not, this is a grand mistake. The horrid mixtures which pass in the army for bread are enough to destroy the health of any amry that uses them. There is not one man in the whole army that would not infinitely prefer his rations in hard bread, prepared in Richmond by good, professional bakers. Such a change would be received with shouts by multitudes of suffering men and grateful thanks would be rendered to the man who shall effect it. This bread forwarded from Richmond would even at the distance of a week or more from baking, surpass the present food as ambrosia surpasses the vilest food of the Feejees. We earnestly pray God that the army may have reason to hail your name as their great friend and deliver in this respect. Many (full 2/3rds) of these signing this petition trace their suffering (some from diarrhea, some from dysentery and many from typhoid fever) to this horrid bread. Typhoid fever is fast becoming the scourge and dread of the army and this awful fare is the main and true source of this disease.

Wounded soldiers in hospital, ca. 1860 - ca. 1865, from U S National Archives

Old Fuss and Feathers Don't Look First Rate Today

2011-09-02T07:00:00.002-05:00

This entry comes from My Diary North and South by William Howard Russell.

Russell was an Irish reporter with The Times and is considered to have been one of the first modern war correspondents.

September 2, 1861.

. . . .I have heard several people say lately, "I wish old Scott would go away," by which they mean that they would be happy to strike him down when his back was turned, but feared his personal influence with the President and his Cabinet. Two months ago, and his was the most honoured name in the States: one was sickened by the constant repetition of elaborate plans, in which the General was represented playing the part of an Indian juggler, and holding an enor mous boa constrictor of-a Federal army in his hands, which he was preparing to let go as soon as he had coiled it completely round the fright ened Secessionist rabbit; "now none so poor to do him reverence." Hard is the fate of those who serve republics. The officers who met the man in the street to-day passed him by with out a salute or mark of recognition, although he wore his uniform coat, with yellow lapels and yellow sash; and one of a group which came out of a restaurant close to the General's house, exclaimed, almost in his hearing, "Old fuss and feathers don't look first-rate to-day."

Winfield Scott, July 1861 from Library of Congress Collection

An Enlisted Man's Gripe

2011-09-01T07:00:00.001-05:00

This entry is from Cyrus F. Jenkins Civil War Diary, 1861 - 1862 as found at Digital Library of Georgia.

Jenkins was an enlisted man in the Meriwether Volunteers, Company B, 13th Georgia Infantry Regiment. The misspelled words and grammar in this excerpt are the writer's own.

Sunday morning ~~August~~ Sept 1st. 61

I got permission to leave the camp for the purpose of going upon the mountain to get a view of the sourrounding country In company with a commissioned officer consequently I needed no written permission a thing that I abhored so much that I never gratified my curiosity in rambling unless by slipping, off or going with a commissioned officer, Although it may become necessary to carry a pass when near the enemy. then it is necessary that private and officer may account for themselfs but here where no enemy is near, why should a private Soldier carry a pass. when an officer can go at will, for what — is an officer but a man! is he more honest because the privates have made him what he is? does his country feel dearer to him in consequence does it instill new principals and new patriotism in his bosom. or is it because he usurps the power that his fellow man has given him. I have digressed for enough. . . .

Private R. Cecil Johnson of 8th Georgia Infantry Regiment and South Carolina Hampton
Legion Cavalry Battalion in uniform, From the Library of Congress Collection

Cutting Off the Quinine

2011-08-31T07:00:00.014-05:00

This entry is from the The Rebellion Record: A Diary of American Events, Volume II, 1862 edited by Frank Moore.

Cutting Off The Quinine.—A Philadelphia paper suggests cutting off from the South their supply of quinine. "Capital idea," says Profundissimus; "we'll stop their physic, and make them die a natural death!"

No more quinine—let 'em shake;
No Spalding's pills—let their heads ache;
No morphine—let 'em lie awake;
No mercury for the rebels take,
Though fever all their vitals bake;
No nitre drops, their heat to slake;
No splinters, though their necks they break;
And, above all, no Southern rake
Shall have his " wine for stomach's sake,"
Till full apology they make.

Part of an advertisement for Spalding's Cephalic Pills commonly published during the year 1861

Hoping Against Hope

2011-08-30T07:00:00.018-05:00

This entry is from a letter written by Frederick Douglass to Rev. Samuel J. May on August 30, 1861. An original image of this letter can be found at University of Rochester Frederick Douglass Project.

Frederick Douglass was a former slave who escaped to freedom some twenty years earlier and became a famous and tireless supporter for African American rights. This letter is addressed to Samuel J. May, a well known radical reformer who championed abolition and women's rights. The letter starts by referencing a plan by somebody named Copeland. Douglass didn't know Copeland, nor do I know to whom the letter is referring, but the topic gave Douglass a chance to air his feelings about the current climate of abolition in Washington in this powerful and prophetic letter.

I do not know Mr. Copeland, nor his plan, and I should like to know something of the latter before offering myself or procuring any other man to ask as his body servant.

It now seems to me that our Government has resolved that no good shall come to the negro from this war, and that it means by every means its power to convince the slaveholders that slavery is safer in than out of the union -- that the slave holding rebel is an object of higher regard than is his humble slave. The hope that the war would finally become an abolition war has been dissipated and men are now preparing for another attempt to preserve the liberty of the white man at the expense of that of the black. I have tried to be hopeful and do still try to be so -- but I confess that it seems much like hoping against hope. What I feared would result from sudden success has come from defeat. The Government defeated seems as little disposed to carry the war to the abolition point as before. Who would have supposed that General Banks would have signalized the first week of his campaign on the Potomac by capturing all slaves and returning them to their masters? He has done less to punish the rebels than to punish their victims. Only think too, of Fremont with Edward M. Davis for quartermaster, cooping up two fugitive slaves in the arsenal of St Louis and when the poor fellows succeeded in getting away from these their federal and abolition friends, their loyal owners were assured that they might expect to be duly paid for their runaway chattels with your money and mine. Looking at the government in the light of these and of similar examples, and the fact that the government consents only that negroes shall smell powder in the character of cooks and body servants in the army, my antislavery confidence is blown to the winds. I wait and work -- relying more upon the stern logic of events than upon any disposition of the Federal army towards slavery.

When I join any movement such as I suppose contemplated, I must have a country or the hope of a country under me, a government around me and some flag of a Northern or Southern Nation floating over me. The negro can do much, but he can not hope to whip two nations at once. Not even the allowance that the Government at Washington would wink at a John Brown movement could induce me to join it. Nothing short of an open recognition of the negro's manhood, his rights as such to have a country, to bear arms, and to defend that country equally with others would induce me to join the army in any capacity. I am sick of seeing mere isolated, extemporaneous insurrections the only result of which is the shooting and hanging of the few brave men who take part in them -- and not being willing to take the chances of such insurrection myself I could not advise any one else to take part in them. Whenever the government is ready to make the war, a war for freedom and progress and will receive the services of black men on the same terms upon which it received that of other men I pledge myself to do one man's work in supplying the Government . I honor Mr. Copeland for his supposed good intentions, but he will not succeed in getting the government to do justice by persuasion. Nothing short of dire necessity will bring it to act wisely.

Frederick Douglass Ambrotype, 1856 from National Portrait Gallery,
Smithsonian Institution, as found at Wikimedia Commons

Like the Measles

2011-08-29T07:00:00.001-05:00

Today's entry is from A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital by John Beauchamp Jones.

AUGUST 29th.—We have intelligence from the North that immense preparations are being made for our destruction; and some of our people begin to say, that inasmuch as we did not follow up the victory at Manassas, it was worse than a barren one, having only exasperated the enemy, and stimulated the Abolitionists to renewed efforts. I suppose these critics would have us forbear to injure the invader, for fear of maddening him. They are making this war; we must make it terrible. With them war is a new thing, and they will not cease from it till the novelty wears off, and all their fighting men are sated with blood and bullets. It must run its course, like the measles. We must both bleed them and deplete their pockets.

Soldiers in the trenches before battle, Petersburg, Va., 1865, as found at archives.gov

Exiled Patriots, Fugitive Freemen

2011-08-27T16:28:00.001-05:00

This entry is from the New York Times, August 28, 1861.

The citizens of East Tennessee were strongly opposed to secession. 42,000 men joined the ranks of the Union army, and most of them came from East Tennessee.

Fugitive Freemen.

The exodus of patriots from East Tennessee has fairly commenced. . . . They, escaped from East Tennessee at night, and with their clothes barely, and, in some few cases, a trusty fire-lock; and in this sad plight took up their weary line of march, as many a poor negro slave has done before them, towards the North Star. The pitiable precession arrived at Danville, travel-stained, ragged and foot-sore; and were received by the hospitable citizens of that loyal Kentucky town, in silence and with profound emotion, but with prompt and earnest sympathy A general contribution of food was made, and a generous dinner was soon prepared and set in the Seminary grounds for the fugitives. It was an acceptable gift, and gladly partaken of, amid the on-looking of hundreds of citizens of the surrounding country, whom the novel scene had gathered together.

We can well believe the letters from Danville which say that the population of Kentucky through which the slow-moving caravan of fugitive freemen passed, had been excited to the highest pitch, and that a rage of honest resentment against the horrible despotism of JEFF DAVIS had seized all hearts. Surely, so incendiary a movement was never made in the South as this movement of exiled patriots out of it; and we greatly mistake the signs of the times, if it does not prove the fire-brand that will light the fires of civil war, down to the borders and on the soil of the State of Tennessee.

The detachment of fugitives whose arrival at Danville is thus noticed is but the vanguard of the movement from East Tennessee. Another band, almost as numerous, was reported to be close behind this first, and their arrival at Danville was expected next day. And as the cause of their flight is ineradicable, the stream will flow on till every Union family is banished, or till the edict of inexorable tyranny shall forbid their further flight, and keep them at home to be hunted. We have rumors of defection from their former loyalty of such men as BROWNLOW and Hon. T.A.R. NELSON, coming in tolerably well authenticated form. We hope to find the facts otherwise, but we cannot deny that these men have struggled along to this time in almost utter hopelessness. They have had reason to despair of the protection of the United States Government; for no sign [???] promise of relief has been held out to them while the bloodhounds of secession, encompassing them on every side, have been gnashing their teeth upon them.

If the Union men of East Tennessee had been succored in time we should have lost none of the gallant spirit whom despair has driven to surrender to treason, and at this day the men that are fleeing for their lives might have been holding the State of Tennessee steadfastly in the Union.

Union Soldier from East Tennessee, as found at www.civilwarphotogallery.com

Base Material versus High Morality

2011-08-26T07:00:00.002-05:00

This entry comes from the DeBow's Review (date not indicated), as found in The Rebellion Record: A Diary of American Events, Volume II, 1862 edited by Frank Moore.

Southern Criticism.—The army of the North is as remarkable for its base material as ours for its high morality. Respectable men do not volunteer to go a-rogueing, [shade of Webster!] and the attack on the South is avowedly a rogue's expedition. The Northern troops are, with very few exceptions, paupers, thieves, ignorant foreigners, murderers, bullies, and criminals of every description. They are not half so respectable or well-informed as our negroes, and it adds much to the indignation and exasperation of our troops that they have to meet these nomadic scoundrels.

A group of unidentified Union soldiers, From Library of Congress Collection

A Southern Gentleman's Take on the War

2011-08-25T07:00:00.024-05:00

This entry comes from the Vanity Fair (date not indicated), as found in The Rebellion Record: A Diary of American Events, Volume III, 1862 edited by Frank Moore.

SWELL'S SOLILOQUY.

I don't appwove this hawid waw;
Those 'dweadful bannahs hawt my eyes;
And guns and dwums are such a baw, —
Why don't the pawties compwamise?

Of cawce, the twoilet has its chawms;
But why must all the vulgah cwowd
Pawsist in spawting unifawms,
In cullaws so extwemely loud?

And then the ladies -- pwecious deahs ! —
I mawk the change on ev'wy bwow;
Bai Jove! I weally have my feahs
They wathah like the hawid waw!

To heah the chawming cweatures talk,
Like patwons of the bloody wing,
Of waw and all its dawtv wawk, —
It doesn't seem a pwappah thing!

I called at Mrs. Gweene's last night,
To see her niece. Miss Mawy Hertz,
And found her making — cwushing sight! --
The weddest kind of flannel shirts!

Of cawce I wose and sought the daw,
With fewy flashing from my eyes!
I can't appwove this hawid waw ; --
Why don't the pawties compwamise ?

Illustration Civil War Union Envelope, Caricature of a "Southern Gentleman",
from the Library of Congress Collection

A Nefarious Affair

2011-08-24T07:57:00.001-05:00

This entry is a letter that appeared in the Newspapers, from then former Governor Francis Thomas, staunch Republican and politician residing in Maryland, as found in The Rebellion Record: A Diary of American Events, Volume II, 1862 edited by Frank Moore. It was a dangerous time to be a politician, especially a Republican in Maryland.

Ex-governor Thomas, of Maryland, gives the following account of the attempt of the Maryland rebels upon his life:
Cumbebland, August 24, 1861.
Dear SiR: As an incident of to-day may be misrepresented, I will communicate to you the precise facts of the case. I left here this morning at half-past six, for my home, in the railroad train. Ten miles from this place the cowcatcher of the engine ran against a pile of eight railroad ties, which had been carefully placed across the track. Fortunately six of the ties were scattered right and left of the road, and the train continued to run for about five hundred yards, when it was stopped by the resistance to its progress produced by the two remaining ties, which were so situated that one end rested on the engine and the other ploughed along the road. As soon as the cars halted, the engineer and fireman leaped off, and soon removed the two ties, while the baggage-master was out to see what had occurred to arrest our progress. All this happened in almost an instant, and before I had paid much attention to what was occurring.
At that moment the baggage-master exclaimed, "There is an armed man on the road behind us." This caused tho thought to flash across my mind that this accident had been contrived, and I called the conductor to the platform on which I stood, and directed him to put tho cars in motion by pulling the bell-rope. The conductor seemed at a loss to know how to act, but obeyed my directions, and as soon as the train began to move we were fired upon by a crowd of more than one hundred armed men, who had appeared upon the road out of the bushes near the spot where the ties had been placed on the road. We all escaped uninjured, although twenty or thirty shots were fired before we were out of reach. There were no persons on the train as passengers, but an old black man, two aged white men, and myself. This whole nefarious affair was, I have no doubt, contrived against my liberty, if not my life, by spies resident in this place, who notified their allies in Virginia that I was to pass on the railroad this morning. And nothing saved me but that coolness and presence of mind which prompted me, under Providence, to see and guard against the danger prompt as electricity.

Please hurry on the arming of our volunteers in Frederick, as I am doing here, that we may be ready for spies within and traitors without our State. Yours, respectfully,
Francis Thomas

Francis Thomas, from the Library of Congress Collection

Female Rebels: How to Manage Them

2011-08-23T07:00:00.001-05:00

This entry comes from the Louisville Journal (date not indicated), as found in The Rebellion Record: A Diary of American Events, Volume II, 1862 edited by Frank Moore.

The Louisville Courier is very pathetic in speaking of a little paragraph of ours, wherein we stated that crinoline contains many a contraband article, and advised the detectives to be on the look-out. Sturdy patriotism, however, is getting to be proof against sickly pathos. It is notorious that hundreds, if not thousands of pistols, have been smuggled under the cover of crinoline into the Southern Confederacy, for the killing of citizens of the United States, and the thing should be stopped. Our neighbor appears to think that the only way to prevent contrabands from being smuggled under ladies' dresses, is to employ the great "he creatures" to search the blushing innocents. He is a greenhorn. Doesn't he know with what delicacy, and yet how effectively, these things are managed in foreign ports? If a woman, carrying under her dress deadly weapons to be used by rebels against our people, blushes at being examined in a private room by another woman, let her blush. Better that her blood should mount to her face, than that the blood of our countrymen should be shed through her crime. Smuggling pistols under female hoops is not a legitimate mode of hooping barrels.

"The Augusta" from the Peterson Magazine December 1861, from NYPL Digital Gallery

Treason of the Newspapers

2011-08-22T07:00:00.008-05:00

This entry is an excerpt from the Cincinnati Press, as found in The Rebellion Record: A Diary of American Events, Volume II, 1862 edited by Frank Moore. It discusses General Rosecrans' order of August 20, 1861 regarding information published in newspapers.

TREASON OF THE NEWSPAPERS

General W. S. Rosecrans, commanding the Army of the Occupation in Western Virginia, in a General order bearing the date of 20th inst. "invites the aid of the press to prevent the enemy from learning through it the position, strength, and movements of the troops under his command." "Such information," he continues, "is of the greatest service to the enemy, and deprives the commander of our forces of all the advantages which arise form the secrecy of concentration and surpise -- advantages which are constantly enjoyed by the rebels, whose press never appears to betray them."

General Rosecrans is a humorist. He invites the tongues of rumor, the trumpet of common fame, the very embodiment of gossip, the thing which is nothing if not clamorous , to aid him in holding its peace -- invites it. Why does he not go forth into some of the valleys in the vicinity of his camp, and invite the echoes that inhabit the neighboring hill-sides to be kind enough to intermit their performances? We can imagine them replying to his solicitations: If we cease to tattle, what are we? Who will know that we exist? How shall we know it ourselves? He can we? Are se not vox preterea nihil? Take away the voice, and what remains? . . ..

Yet these things have been tolerated; nay they have been encouraged. Every officer from Commanding General to Corporal, has seemed to think it desirable to have the correspondent of a newspaper at his elbow, to sing his praises, put him right with the public, and be the convenient vehicle to transmit to the world a knowledge of his exploits. They very Commander-in-Chief of the army invites the editor of a New York Journal to dinner, and develops him the entire plan of a campaign, which, on the next day, makes its appearance in print, semi-editorially and semi-officially, without any suspicion of breach of confidence in the relator.

William Stark Rosecrans, by Brady, from Library of Congress Collection

Hordes of Hungry Rebels

2011-08-20T21:08:00.000-05:00

This entry is an excerpt from a Proclamation made by Governor A. G. Curtin of Pennsylvania on August 20th, 1861, imploring military enlistment, as found in The Rebellion Record: A Diary of American Events, Volume II, 1862 edited by Frank Moore.

Washington is again believed to be in danger. The President has made an earnest appeal for all the men that can be furnished to be sent forward without delay. If Pennsylvania now puts forth her strength, the hords [sic] of hungry rebels may be swept down to the latitudes where they belong. If she falters, the seat of tumults, disorder, and rapine may be transferred to her own soil. Let every man so act that he will not be ashamed to look at his mother, his wife, or sisters . . . .

Governor A. G. Curtin, from the Library of Congress Collection

That Vindictive Feeling

2011-08-19T07:00:00.004-05:00

This entry is from The Sherman Letters, Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, Book by Rachel Sherman Thorndike, 1894.

Letter dated August 19, 1861 William Sherman to his brother Senator John Sherman

. . . There is no time to be lost and I will not spare my individual efforts, though I still feel as one groping in the dark. Slowly but surely the public is realizing what I knew all the time, the strong vindictive feeling of the whole South.

William Sherman as found at generalsandbrevets.com

A Spy Drinking Tea

2011-08-18T07:00:00.000-05:00

From an entry dated August 18, 1861:

Found it quite excting to have a spy drinking his tea with us. Perhaps because I knew his profession, I did not like his face. He is said to have a scheme by which Washington will fall into our hands like an overripe peach.

The tea drinker was identified in the 1860s Journal as George Donellan, a member of the Confederate spy ring in Washington that had sent information on Union troop movements to Beauregard before Bull Run. Apparently his "scheme" never came to "fruition."

Head of a Confederate Spy, from Library of Congress Collection

A Plea to Enlist

2011-08-17T07:00:00.016-05:00

Today's entry is excerpts from a proclamation made by Governor Richard Yates, of Illinois on August 17th, 1861 urging military enrollments, as found in The Rebellion Record: A Diary of American Events, Volume II, 1862 edited by Frank Moore.

. . . Illinoians! the war is on your hands -- the enemy now in large numbers is marching toward your borders. Every prominent point on your rivers is threatened with attack. Shall it be said that the numbers, whose object it is to sustain a Government as good as ours, are not one-third so large as those which are in arms to put it down! Shall the handful of our first volunteers be required to oppose vastly superior numbers? How long shall the brave Siegel in the unequal contest be forced to retreat? How long shall the blood of the noble Lyon cry from the ground unavenged? How long shall the fatal blunder and foul blot of Manassas stain our escutcheon?

The cause in which you are to engage is a holy one. You are to fight for a Government you love; the very best Government on earth, endeared to you by the boundlessness of the blessing it confers; which has protected and nursed you with all the fondness of a mother for her child; which has secured our country respect at home and abroad, and made the title "American citizen" prouder than that of "Roman citizen" in the days of the Scipios and Caesars. What undying memories cluster around it! What joys, what fears, what tears, what smiles, and destinies, what hopes are associated with it! The gift of Washington -- the hope of our children -- the asylum of the oppressed of every nation on earth; to aim for its perpetuity is the loftiest summit of patriotic aspiration -- and to vindicate it, the most shining height of human achievement. To fight for -- to live for -- to die for such a Government -- is glorious.

Richard Yates, from the Library of Congress Collection

No Ice in Washington

2011-08-15T21:14:00.000-05:00

This entry is from the Richmond Daily Dispatch, August 15, 1861. Ice was relied upon during the summer to help beat the heat, but apparently Washington went without during the late summer of 1861.

--In this sweltering weather, with the thermometer ranging from one hundred to one hundred and twenty degrees, the ice dealers announce that their stock of ice is exhausted, and that there is no more to be had there this summer. Five large vessels, loaded with the precious commodity, have been over due now more than ten days, and the consignees there have come to the reluctant conclusion that the vessels have been captured by "the pirates of the gulf." The ice-dealers say also that it is impossible to get vessels to bring ice here, because vessel-owners are afraid of losing, in this manner, both vessel and cargo. So that they have the very pleasant prospect before them of living through the hot months of August and September, without ice.

Washington D. C. view from Georgtown heights, with Aqueduct Bridge and Mason's Island, created by William Morris Smith, 1865, from Library of Congress collection

Days of Miracles

2011-08-15T13:21:00.001-05:00

This entry, recording an act of heroism of Biblical proportions is from the The Southern Recorder of Milledgeville from September 10, 1861, reprinted from the Richmond Whig, wherein it appeared at an earlier date.

Striking Incident in the Fight at Manassas --- Probably no battle ever fought called forth more remarkable instances of individual herosim than the contest at Manassas. In the progress of the struggle, regiments,and even companies, became separated, and in many cases there was a hand-to hand contest between individuals of the opposing armies.

At this stage of the battle an incident occurred,which, probably, has no parallel since the days of David and Goliah. A young man from August County, named Stitzer, a member of Capt Grinnan's company, found himself confronted with a tall Yankee. Stitzer has discharged his musket,and the Yankee had loaded his, and was about to but on the cap to shoot Stitzer. It was rather an awkward predicament to be placed in, as there was no time for parley. Stitzer, fortunately, retained his self-possession, and finding the chances of a contest with muskets very much against him, promptly threw his down, and seizing a good sized stone, threw it with great forced and unerring aim, and struck the Yankee between the eyes, crushing in hisskukll and killing him instantly. Stitzer, when a boy, was accustomed to throwing stones, and had acquired such skill that he could bring a squirrl from the tallest tree in two or three trials. This incident is vouched for by two intelligent officers of the regiment, and may be relied on as authentic.

Verily the days of miracles do not seem to have passed! -- Richmond Whig

Unidentified Confederate soldier from the Library of Congress Collection

Recognizing the Hand of God in This Terrible Visitation

2011-08-12T07:00:00.011-05:00

Today's entry is a portion (one of the whereas clauses) of Abraham Lincoln's Proclamation of August 12, 1861 appointing the last Thursday in September as a day of humiliation, prayer and fasting for all the people of the nation." A strong statement for extraordinary times. . ..

And whereas, when our own beloved Country, once, by the blessing of God, united, prosperous and happy, is now afflicted with faction and civil war, it is peculiarly fit for us to recognize the hand of God in this terrible visitation, and in sorrowful remembrance of our own faults and crimes as a nation and as individuals, to humble ourselves before Him, and to pray for His mercy, -- to pray that we may be spared further punishment, though most justly deserved; that our arms may be blessed and made effectual for the re-establishment of law, order and peace, throughout the wide extent of our country; and that the inestimable boon of civil and religious liberty, earned under His guidance and blessing, by the labors and sufferings of our fathers, may be restored in all its original excellence: --

Abraham Lincoln from the Library of Congress Colleciton

It Is Too Late Now

2011-08-11T07:00:00.016-05:00

Today's entry is from A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital by John Beauchamp Jones.

AUGUST 11TH [1861]. —There is a whisper that something like a rupture has occurred between the President and Gen. Beauregard; and I am amazed to learn that Mr. Benjamin is inimical to Gen. B. I know nothing of the foundation for the report; but it is said that Beauregard was eager to pass with his army into Maryland, immediately after the battle, and was prevented. It is now quite apparent, from developments, that a small force would have sufficed to take Washington, a few days or weeks after the battle. But was Beauregard aware of the fact, before the opportunity ceased to exist ? It is too late now.

Pierre Gustave Toutain Beauregard, from generalsandbrevets.com

A Union General's Premonition

2011-08-10T07:00:00.001-05:00

This entry is from "An Address Delivered by Hon. Albert E. Gebene at the Annual Meeting of the Society, Topeka, January 15, 1895" from Transactions of the Kansas Historical Society. 1889-'96, Vol. V.

Gebene spoke on the Battle of Wilson Creek, and part of his speech was devoted to the demise of General Nathaniel Lyon, the first Union General to perish in Battle during the Civil War.

The battle occurred on August 10, 1861. The night before the battle :

Lyon and [John McAllister] Schofield, his adjutant-general, found a wide crevice between two rocks and laid down side by side. The latter expressed a fear that his companion was not comfortable, but Lyon replied that he was "all right," that he "was born among the rocks." After a while, when Schofield supposed that Lyon had gone to sleep, the general said: "I am a believer in presentiments, and I have a feeling that I can't get rid of that I shall not survive this battle."

The next day the battle raged for hours . .. until

. . . .At this instant a line of men was seen at right angles to the column of Lyon, and a question arose as to who they were. There was a possibility of their being [Franz] Sigel's men. Lyon, [Col. Robert B.] Mitchell and an orderly rode out toward them. Three officers at the same time advanced from their lines and asked "Who are you?" From some cause Lyon at once saw they were rebels, perhaps he recognized them as old army associates, at any rate he turned to his body-guard, which had come up, and said: "Shoot them! Shoot them!" Instantly there was a volley from a thicket a few rods away and Lyon received
a bullet in the heart. Mitchell was hit in the thigh at the same time, but caught Lyon as he was falling and lowered him from his horse to the ground.

To his orderly, Albert Lehman, he murmured, "I am killed; take care of my body." Lieutenant Shroyer of the Second and two men sprang forward and bore the corpse through the ranks to the rear. Lehman was crying and making a great noise, and was told to keep still. The face was then covered with a handkerchief and the guard told to keep the fact of Lyon's death from the men.

This simple recital is gathered from personal interviews with soldiers who witnessed the event, officers within speaking distance of Lyon when he fell, numerous letters, and lastly, the official records of the battle. It differs from the popular accounts which have given inspiration for the cheap pictures, the only representations extant, of the death of Lyon.

There was none of the impetuous dash and wild clamor of war, "peal on peal afar;" no leaping steed, frenzied with the clash of arms; no fluttering pennants, nor host of aides in brilliant uniforms to signalize the event; . . . . Simply a quiet, unassuming soldier, bareheaded, and bloody from crown to foot, sitting on a jaded horse with a few comrades at his side. In this way Lyon fell; the first great sacrifice of the war; the only leader who had rightly interpreted secession, and the only one who had seized it by the throat or seriously threatened its overthrow. At the time of his death there was no general in the union army worthy to be compared with him. What he had done and attempted to do had already endeared him to the whole north. Suddenly elevated from a captain to a general, he at once disclosed the qualities of leadership, roused the hopes of his countrymen by his tremendous energy in pursuing and sublime audacity in fighting overwhelming odds, and crowded into two months a career as brilliant as it was brief, and as precious to the cause as its ending was bloody and pathetic.

Nathaniel Lyon, from generalsandbrevets.com

The Young and the Fearless

2011-08-09T07:00:00.001-05:00

This entry is from the August 9th 1861 Richmond Dispatch, and tells the story of one boy who got another chance to be a man.

A Gallant Southern Boy.

A correspondent sends to the Dispatch the subjoined extract of a letter from an Ohio captain to the editor of the Toledo (Ohio) Blade, published in that paper on the 26th of July. Such testimony, from an enemy, of the bravery of our troops, and of an act of gallantry on the part of some unknown Virginia boy, (which has few parallels even in our army of heroes,) cannot fail to command the attention of every reader:

"About 1 o'clock there was a short cessation of hostilities — the firing was only heard in the distance. Our Brigade had been wrestling for several hours with opposing forces, principally Virginians, and were ensconced in thickets on each side of a field of no great dimensions. We occupied the Northern slope of a hill of considerable elevation, and also the top of the hill, whilst the enemy held the Southern slope. Suddenly we observed to emerge from the opposing ranks a boy, apparently 16 or 17 years of age, armed with a musket and pistols. He double-quicked to the top of the hill, within sixty or eighty yards of our place of concealment; saw an officer on horseback, took deliberate aim at him, fired, and the officer fell mortally wounded. About the same time my company of 80 men fired at him, and he fell, I supposed pierced by many balls. What was my surprise to see this proud and over-brave boy rise from the ground only slightly wounded, seize his musket, wave his cap in triumph in our faces, and rejoin his comrades, one of whom had followed him, I suppose to bring him back. Such fearlessness I never saw before."

Unidentified Young Confederate Soldier, from the Library of Congress Collection

A Life Spared

2011-08-08T07:00:00.012-05:00

This entry is from the Second Wisconsin website (www.secondwi.com)

THE DEAD BROUGHT TO LIFE AGAIN.

The following remarkable incident occurred in Dodgeville, Wisconsin.
When the war first broke out, a young man who resided in the above village joined a company commanded by Captain Tom Allen, which was afterwards incorporated in the Second Regiment of Wisconsin Volunteers, and was present at the disastrous battle of Bull Run. The intelligence came back to his family at Dodgeville that he was slain upon the battle-field, and his body left to be cared for by the enemy. The news nearly killed his affectionate mother, and she, with the remainder of those relatives who had been nearly related to him, wore mourning for him who had poured out his blood and sacrificed his young life for his country.

The gnawing grief had preyed upon these loving hearts for many months, until they learned to view it with a species of resignation. What could then depict their unspeakable astonishment and joy, when he walked into the house, hearty and well!

His story is briefly told thus: He had been left severely wounded, with many others, upon the battle-field. After the engagement was over, and his friends had retreated in confusion, a company of secessionists came where they were lying, and actually bayoneted his wounded companions before his eyes. They even went so far as to stab the bodies of senseless corpses, lest there be some spark of life left in them! A man came to where he was lying on the ground and raised his ensanguined weapon for the fatal thrust, which he fully expected would end his mortal career. He closed his eyes, fairly sick with the horrid emotion, and waited to receive his fate. His enemy hesitated. He lowered his musket, and finally raised him carefully up and gave him water from his canteen. He was afterwards removed to the hospitals of Richmond, where he received careful treatment and at last was exchanged and allowed to return home.
Collected by Frank Moore, 1889

Unidentified soldier in uniform with arm in sling in front of painted backdrop showing military camp and American flag, from Library of Congress Collection