Following the American Civil War Sesquicentennial with day by day writings of the time, currently 1863.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Easter Sunday, April 16.—A most beautiful day—one that speaks of peace and good will toward men. On my way to church a feeling of sadness came over me, when I remembered the sunny Easter Sundays I had spent with many now gone forever. The little church, I was glad to see, had been all nicely whitewashed, and thoroughly cleaned, and a beautiful bouquet of flowers was on the communion table — an emblem of the resurrection. The church was crowded, and I noticed that Mr. Thomas did not dismiss the congregation before communion, as is common with us, but went on with the communion service as the Methodists do. I felt like thanking the singers for the good music. It took me right back home, as the tunes were all familiar ones. They sang the sixty-ninth Easter hymn, one I had listened to many a time on that day, and one which my father sung, when a boy, in “auld Scotia.”

Mr. Thomas’s text was, “I am Alpha and Omega,” and an excellent sermon he preached from it. He is an able logician, and a concise and fluent speaker. He is a native of Wales, but was raised in Georgia. For many years he was a chaplain in the United States navy. When the war broke out he joined our army. Lately he has been living here on his farm, and I have been told that General Wheeler’s commissary took every grain of corn which he had, leaving him and his family starving. He receives little or nothing for his services, and has to earn his living by manual labor.

Mrs. Fyffe and myself spend an hour or two every evening trying to teach our negro women to read. I have almost given up in despair of their ever learning. We teach them their A B C’s, and think, well, they know that much; but the next time it is all forgotten.

Mrs. Newsom had been teaching her woman some time before she came here, but we find her the dullest of all. I think the African is capable of learning but very little; many may learn to read and write, but I feel confident, as a rule, they will not go much further. I have taught them before, and find that in learning hymns and prayers orally they do pretty well.

I have just received a letter from Mrs. N., who is in Athens, Georgia. She says that some members of congress had just passed through Covington on their way to Atlanta. They reported that Richmond had been given up in a hurry, and that the public archives and other valuables were left. The congressmen were still hopeful of our success, as is also Mrs. N.

It is reported that Atlanta or Macon is to be the seat of government, but I can not see how that can be, as we have no army in either place, and the enemy is now all around us, and our railroads torn up in every direction. All this puzzles me much that I intend to give over thinking about it, and await the issue.

A day or two ago word was brought that our hospitals were to make another exodus; they are to go to North Carolina. I dislike leaving this nice place, but shall be glad to get near the army. But I scarcely think they will let us ladies go, as at least for a hundred miles of the road every thing will have to be moved on teams.

Raleigh, April 16, 1865.

Flags of truce are still flying between Sherman and Johnston. The latter is, I believe, some 30 miles west of Hillsboro. Some of Sherman’s staff went out last night to offer the same terms that were offered to Lee, and are expected every hour with Johnston’s answer. Everybody thinks Johnston will accept and many are offering to bet their all that we will be mustered out by July 4th, 1865.

I am trying to take the matter coolly and determined not to be very much disappointed if the result is different from what we all hope. We will be either ready to march to-morrow morning or to hang our swords on the wall. Hundreds of Johnston’s men are coming into our lines. If he don’t surrender his men will all desert. A lovely day. Disposes one to peace wonderfully. It is most difficult to realize that our war is over. I do from my heart thank God that I have lived to see the rebellion put down. Anyone who has been with us the last year and is alive should be thankful. The whole four years seems to me more like a dream than reality. How anxious I am to shake hands with you all once more. “How are you peace?”

Sunday, 16th—The weather is warm and pleasant. We remained in bivouac all day. All is quiet in the front and both armies are resting under a flag of truce. Neither army is allowed to change its position while the agreement is in force.

16th. Reveille at 4 A. M. with orders to move at 6. Orders countermanded on account of no rations. Went to sutler’s and got cheese, buttermilk and cakes. Beautiful day. Letter from Minnie. Papers. A report that Lincoln was killed a short time since by an assassin. God grant it may not be true, for the country’s good. Am happy today, my mind peaceful. Saw F. last night and night before. Lincoln assassinated. How great the loss to the country. All boys but two took a verbal temperance pledge. Got my leave and took the cars in evening.[1]


[1] Note—After the surrender of Lee on April 9th, 1865, the Cavalry Corps, including the 2nd Ohio, marched southward to strike the remaining Confederate army commanded by Gen. Joseph E. Johnston, which was still confronting Sherman’s army in North Carolina. Shortly after we had crossed the Roanoke River and entered North Carolina word came to us that Johnston had sensibly surrendered to Sherman and we marched northward to Richmond and Petersburg, and on to Washington, in time for the Grand Review. This episode in the Regiment’s records is not mentioned in the diary because Major Tenney was at that time absent on leave at home.—A. B. N., June 10, 1911.

Chattanooga, Sunday, April 16. A very pleasant day. As we rode to water this morning, Chattanooga wore a very solemn aspect. The whole town was draped in mourning, flags tied with black, and white crepe exhibited in all parts of the town, while the 100-pounder Parrotts high up on Cameron Hill fired ,half-hour guns from 5 A. M. till 6 P. M. The gloom of yesterday still hangs over the camp.

Papers sought for in vain this morning. Hon. W. H. Seward reported in a critical condition. I tremble lest we be deprived of his services also, when his great mind and ripe experience are most needed. Andrew Johnson is to-day President of the United States. A nation in tears looks towards him to-day for direction and guidance. God grant him power and wisdom to discharge the trust placed upon him. I doubt not the man’s motives, but I fear that he has not the moral stability required. If he will not set aside the public interest to follow party prejudices and personal interest, I trust all will be well. One thing I feel a trust in, and that is our armies are still led by the same brave and dauntless leaders that “will conquer or die.”

Grazed in the afternoon. Wrote a letter home. Sad news of the death of Robert Banks reached us last night. Died in Hospital No. 1 yesterday. Another void in a Northern home never to be filled on earth. A. Trunkhill taken to the hospital late last evening very sick. No mail yet, railroad out of repair. Trains promised to-morrow. The Tennessee River flooding again for the sixth time this season.

April 16th. Sunday. No inspection. All is quiet in camp. After breakfast, cleaned up, ready for service in the log chapel. Sermon by our Chaplain. A good attendance, with several visitors from town. A good sermon on the sad event. All is quiet, and a very sad day in our camp. All duties suspended for the day. Went for a walk. Evidence of mourning on many houses and public buildings, by placing crape on them.

New Creek, West Virginia, April 16, 1865.

Dear Mother: — I am as much shocked as I ever was by any calamity by the awful tragedy at Washington. Still I can discover many topics of consolation. It is fortunate that it did not occur before. We are fortunate in now having such good men as Grant, Sherman, and Thomas commanding our armies, for there is the power in this country. Mr. Lincoln’s fame is safe. He is the “Darling of History” evermore. To titles to regard and remembrance which equal those of any man in ancient or modern times growing out of the events and achievements of his life, his tragic death now adds the crown of martyrdom.

Affectionately,

R.

Mrs. Sophia Hayes.

New Creek, West Virginia, April 16 (Sunday), 1865.

Dearest: — When I heard first yesterday morning of the awful tragedy at Washington, I was pained and shocked to a degree I have never before experienced. I got onto the cars, then just starting, and rode down to Cumberland. The probable consequences, or rather the possible results in their worst imaginable form, were presented to my mind one after the other, until I really began to feel that here was a calamity so extensive that in no direction could be found any, the slightest, glimmer of consolation. The Nation’s great joy turned suddenly to a still greater sorrow! A ruler tested and proved in every way, and in every way found equal to the occasion, to be exchanged for a new man whose ill-omened beginning made the Nation hang its head. Lincoln for Johnson! The work of reconstruction requiring so much statesmanship just begun! The calamity to Mr. Lincoln; in a personal point of view, so uncalled for a fate! — so undeserved, so unprovoked! The probable effect upon the future of public men in this country, the necessity for guards; our ways to be assimilated to those of the despotisms of the Old World. — And so I would find my mind filled only with images of evil and calamity, until I felt a sinking of heart hardly equalled by that which oppressed us all when the defeat of our army at Manassas almost crushed the Nation.

But slowly, as in all cases of great affliction, one comes to feel that it is not all darkness; the catastrophe is so much less, happening now, than it would have been at any time before, since Mr. Lincoln’s election. At this period after his first inauguration; at any of the periods of great public depression; during the pendency of the last Presidential election; at any time before the defeat of Lee, such a calamity might have sealed the Nation’s doom. Now the march of events can’t be stayed, probably can’t be much changed. It is possible that a greater degree of severity in dealing with the Rebellion may be ordered, and that may be for the best.

As to Mr. Lincoln’s name and fame and memory, — all is safe. His firmness, moderation, goodness of heart; his quaint humor, his perfect honesty and directness of purpose; his logic, his modesty, his sound judgment, and great wisdom; the contrast between his obscure beginnings and the greatness of his subsequent position and achievements; his tragic death, giving him almost the crown of martyrdom, elevate him to a place in history second to none other of ancient or modern times. His success in his great office, his hold upon the confidence and affections of his countrymen, we shall all say are only second to Washington’s; we shall probably feel and think that they are not second even to his.

My mountain expedition is at an end. If I go on any more campaigning, it will be an easy march to occupy some point on the Central Virginia Railroad — Staunton or Charlottesville. I anticipate, however, an early call of an extra session of Congress. In any event, I shall probably not see any more active service.

I enclose my good-bye to my old First Brigade. I now regard the order separating us as not unfortunate. It must have been soon, and could not have been in a better way.

Direct your letters to this point — Second Brigade, First Division, Department West Virginia. — Love to all.

Affectionately,

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

Sunday, Easter Day, April 16.—I went to church this morning. The pulpit and choir were covered with flags festooned with crape. Although a very disagreeable day, the house was well filled. The first hymn sung was “Oh God our help in ages past, our hope for years to come.” Dr. Daggett’s prayer, I can never forget, he alluded so beautifully to the nation’s loss, and prayed so fervently that the God of our fathers might still be our God, through every calamity or affliction, however severe or mysterious. All seemed as deeply affected as though each one had been suddenly bereft of their best friend. The hymn sung after the prayer, commenced with “Yes, the Redeemer rose.” Dr. Daggett said that he had intended to preach a sermon upon the resurrection. He read the psalm beginning, “Lord thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations.” His text was “That our faith and hope might be in God.” He commenced by saying, “I feel as you feel this morning: our sad hearts have all throbbed in unison since yesterday morning when the telegram announced to us Abraham Lincoln is shot.” He said the last week would never be forgotten, for never had any of us seen one come in with so much joy, that went out with so much sorrow. His whole sermon related to the President’s life and death, and, in conclusion, he exhorted us not to be despondent, for he was confident that the ship of state would not go down, though the helmsman had suddenly been taken away while the promised land was almost in view. He prayed for our new President, that he might be filled with grace and power from on High, to perform his high and holy trust. On Thursday we are to have a union meeting in our church, but it will not be the day of general rejoicing and thanksgiving we expected. All noisy demonstrations will be omitted. In Sunday school the desk was draped with mourning, and the flag at half-mast was also festooned with crape. Mr Noah T. Clarke opened the exercises with the hymn “He leadeth me,” followed by “Though the days are dark with sorrow.” “We know not what’s before us,” “My days are gliding swiftly by.” Then, Mr Clarke said that we always meant to sing “America,” after every victory, and last Monday he was wondering if we would not have to sing it twice to-day, or add another verse, but our feelings have changed since then. Nevertheless he thought we had better sing “America,” for we certainly ought to love our country more than ever, now that another, and such another, martyr, had given up his life for it so we sang it. Then he talked to the children and said that last Friday was supposed to be the anniversary of the day upon which our Lord was crucified, and though, at the time the dreadful deed was committed, every one felt the day to be the darkest one the earth ever knew; yet since then, the day has been called “Good Friday,” for it was the death of Christ, which gave life everlasting to all the people. So he thought that life would soon come out of darkness, which now overshadows us all, and that the death of Abraham Lincoln might yet prove the nation’s life in God’s own most mysterious way.

New Creek, West Virginia, April 16, 1865.

Dear Uncle: — I am in receipt of yours of the 11th. My mountain expedition is given up. If I go at all from here, it will be directly up the valleys to occupy Staunton. In any event, I think I shall see no more active campaigning.

I have been greatly shocked by the tragedy at Washington. At first it was wholly dark. So unmerited a fate for Lincoln! Such a loss for the country! Such a change! But gradually, consolatory topics suggest themselves. How fortunate that it occurred no sooner! Now the march of events will neither be stopped nor changed. The power of the Nation is in our armies, and they are commanded by such men as Grant, Sherman, and Thomas, instead of McClellan, Hooker, or, etc., etc. Lincoln’s fame is safe. He is the Darling of History evermore. His life and achievements give him titles to regard second to those of no other man in ancient or modern times. To these, this tragedy now adds the crown of martyrdom.

Sincerely,

R.

S. Birchard.