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

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

London, July 18, 1862

You can have very little notion of the effect the Richmond news is having here. It has set all the elements of hostility to us in agitation, and they are working to carry the House of Commons off their feet in its debate tonight. To that end a story has been manufactured of an alleged capitulation of General McClellan on the third coming out by the Glasgow that sailed on the fifth, in the face of a later telegram dated the seventh, which reported his address to his army pledging himself to continue the war. Yet the people here are fully ready to credit anything that is not favorable. I have no doubt that the matter is bad enough, but it is not quite to that extent. Yet the consequences are likely to be as unfavorable as if it was….

 

JULY 18TH.—To-day several ladies applied in person to the Secretary of War for passports to Norfolk and Baltimore, and he sent me written orders to grant them. They next applied to Gen. Winder to go with the flag of truce, exhibiting their passports. He repudiated them, however, and sent the ladies back to me, saying he wanted something with the Secretary’s signature, showing me to be authorized to sign them. I wrote such a note as I supposed he wanted, and the Secretary signed it as follows :

  

“RICHMOND, July 18th, 1862.

“BRIG.-GEN. J. H. WINDER.
“SIR :—The passports issued by J. B. Jones from this Department to pass the lines of the Confederate armies, and the lines of the Confederate States, are granted by my direction, evidences of which are on file in the Passport Office.
“Respectfully,
“G. W. RANDOLPH,
“Secretary of War”

….

This, one of the ladies delivered to him. I hope I am now done with Gen. Winder and his “Plug Ugly” dynasty.

18th.—I regret exceedingly to feel that there may be too much truth in the following extract of a letter received today: I would not libel my fellow officers, but I have no hesitation in declaring that, notwithstanding I have spent fifty years of a life of excitement in this little world, I have witnessed more drunkenness amongst officers of the army within one year, than I have seen in the same class of men in all my fifty years of civil life. The letter says: “After you left me I was lonely, rarely having any of the officers call at my tent. I spent my time, when not engaged in official duties, in reading and in writing. This was rather agreeable, notwithstanding I could hear in all the tents around me the social hiliarity of officers visiting each other. It seemed pleasant to me, and I sometimes almost envied them. One morning there could be seen in my tent three boxes. On the end of one, in large print: “Prime Bourbon;” on another, “1 Doz. each Old Q and Cogniac;” the third, ” Fine Sherry.” On top of the boxes sat three bottles, each marked correspondingly with the box from which it was taken; and by side of the bottles, glasses, and a bucket of ice water. It soon began to be found out that I had .the shadiest, airyest tent, and that I was one of the most jovial fellows on the ground. Privates, who had previously frequented my tent for instruction and advice, disappeared, cocked hats and shoulder straps crowded about me; I had a good cook, and occasionally my friends dined with me. * * * * * Can you imagine how, after my long seclusion, I enjoyed this change of socialty? Let me tell you: I have become most supremely disgusted with myself, my liquors, my comrades, and almost feel that the world, or at least the military portion of it, is a failure. Thank God my liquors are gone; my friends and I now know each other, and those who loved me for my good liquors will love me no more forever. A few with whom I was thus brought into contact, are fine fellows, and our intimacy will continue.”

The enemy are attempting to blockade the river below us, and thus cut off our supplies. Should they succeed, we must capitulate, or fight our way to Fortress Monroe, a distance of seventy or eighty miles, without provisions.

In the year that we have been in the field our fine army has been frittered away, without having accomplished anything. I fear General McClellan is a failure. I would not be an alarmist, but I fear that without a change of leaders our cause must be abandoned. The ring of General Pope’s proclamation is right, just right, I cannot take one exception. But the expediency of its coming from General Pope is questionable. I have not too much confidence in the disinterestedness of our Potomac officers, and this proclamation may be applied by some of them personally, and make trouble. Nevertheless, the tone of it is right. I hope he will be able to come up to “the sounding tenor of the munifesto.”

Friday, 18th—The weather is very hot. Colonel Hare took the regiment out on the drill ground for battalion drill, but we remained out only a half hour, since four or five men were overcome with the heat and had to be taken back to their tents.

Camp Green Meadows, July 18, 1862. Friday. — Rained last night and drizzled all this morning. … I feel dourish today; inaction is taking the soul out of us.

I am really jolly over the Rebel Morgan’s raid into the bluegrass region of Kentucky. If it turns out a mere raid, as I suppose it will, the thing will do great good. The twitter into which it throws Cincinnati and Ohio will aid us in getting volunteers. The burning and destroying the property of the old-fashioned, conservative Kentuckians will wake them up, will stiffen their sinews, give them backbone, and make grittier Union men of them. If they should burn Garrett Davis’ house, he will be sounder on confiscation and the like. In short, if it does not amount to an uprising, it will be a godsend to the Union cause. It has done good in Cincinnati already. It has committed numbers who were sliding into Secesh to the true side. Good for Morgan, as I understand the facts at this writing!

Had a good drill. The exercise and excitement drove away the blues. After drill a fine concert of the glee club of Company A. As they sang “That Good Old Word, Good-bye,” I thought of the pleasant circle that used to sing it on Gulf Prairie, Brazoria County, Texas. And now so broken! And my classmate and friend, Guy M. Bryan — where is he? In the Rebel army! As honorable and true as ever, but a Rebel! What strange and sad things this war produces! But he is true and patriotic wherever he is. Success to him personally!

18th. Ordered to commence on half rations. Visited Capt. Nettleton. Sick since going to Fort Gibson, weak. At 11 P. M. orders came to march at 2 A. M. Second Battalion in advance. Colonel Wier under arrest and a prisoner, Colonel Salomon commanding.

Harrison’s Landing, James River, Va.,
Friday, July 18, 1862.

Dear Cousin L.:—•

I never was much of a believer in signs and wonders, lucky and unlucky days and things of that kind, but you know what a bad reputation Friday has, and how many there are ready to believe all that is said of it. Well, just see what an unlucky day it has been for me. The first note of the reveille this morning started me to my feet (for I’m a bugler, you know, and have to give the regimental calls) feeling better than I have for a week before. The mail came after breakfast and three letters for me, yours, one from my comrade Bushnell’s mother, and one from Father. I had not heard from him since he got my first letter after the battle. I sat down to answer my letters and had just finished one to Father, when one of the boys came along saying—”Norton, you’re always in luck. I just brought up a box from the landing with something on the cover that looked like your name.” “Where is it?” “Major’s tent— came by express.” Well, it was not in the major’s tent long, and it would have made you laugh to hear the remarks made from the time I came into the street with it till we found what was in the bottom. I was as much astonished as any of them, for I never expected to see it, and now let no one after this say anything to me about unlucky Fridays. If they do, you know how I can stop them. Contrary to your expectation, everything in the box was in good condition. Your judgment was admirably shown in the selection of articles—just such as were of real utility and would not spoil by a little delay. With all respect for your husband and Aunt A.’s, I believe the ladies of the family had just as much to do about it as they had, though you labored so hard to make me think it was some “strangers” I had never seen. The pineapple cheese was the great curiosity though. Many of the boys brought up in a dairy country had never seen one. They are not made so extensively of late except in large dairies. “Don’t drop that percussion shell or you’ll blow your box and contents into the river,” said one fellow, and another was going to report me for “leaving fixed ammunition exposed.” I’m not sure but it is a good thing, or rather I am sure it is, that I did not get it while I was at Gaines’ Mill. If I had, I should have lost the most of it, but if the rebels get any share of it now, I shall miss my guess entirely. Please return my thanks to those who united with you in conferring so acceptable a present on me and my comrades (for you know I can’t sit down and eat a meal with the embellishments, as the boys say, and not share with them).

It seems strange how much the rest of our company has become united since the battles. They are almost like brothers in one family now. We used to have the “aristocratic tent” and “tent of the upper ten,” and so on, but there is nothing of that kind now. We have all lost dear friends and common sorrow makes us all equal.

Your account of the interest that is taken in reading my letters is beginning to scare me. Young ladies from Boston must see them, and others that I don’t know, beside the whole circle of relatives. Don’t you think I had better put at the top as the Herald does—”Daily circulation, …………….thousand?” You can fill up the blank. You know how many better than I do. Really, I am getting to be a celebrity. But I have about made up my mind that I shan’t risk my reputation by coming to New York after the war. Down on the Peninsula here I excite quite a sensation in Gotham just by writing letters, but one day’s personal acquaintance would dispel the illusion, and I would be nothing but a common “soger,” and a very rough specimen at that. If I only had shoulder straps, now, with an eagle or a star on, why, it might be worth while to be talked about, but do these young ladies know that all there is on the shoulders of my blouse is a threadbare spot where the musket rubs? But really, if anyone wants to read my letters, and you are willing to have it known that you have such a rattle-brained correspondent, I have no objections. I can understand how my own relatives should take an interest in me for my mother’s sake, but how strangers should want to see my next letter, I can’t see. How much longer do you think I could draw out a thread on that subject without breaking it? I think I’ll drop it before it gets any finer.

The stamps you sent were another most acceptable gift just at this time. I had been studying for some days to contrive some way to get along till pay day. But our boys are all in the same fix as myself—terribly short. I thought I should have to stop writing or send home for some money, and I did not want to do either, but “unlucky Friday” settles it. I find paper and envelopes in the box, and stamps in the letter. No one who has not been in the situation knows how relieved I felt.

Well, I must bring my letter to a close. I have got to go half a mile for water and by the time I get back it will be time for dress parade. “All is quiet on the James,” very quiet. Please write soon.

Friday morning, July 18, 1862. (House of Col. K., on Yazoo River.)—After leaving the raft yesterday all went well till noon, when we came to a narrow place where an immense tree lay clear across the stream. It seemed the insurmountable obstacle at last. We sat despairing what to do, when a man appeared beside us in a pirogue. So sudden, so silent was his arrival that we were thrilled with surprise. He said if we had a hatchet he could help us. His fairy bark floated in among the branches like a bubble, and he soon chopped a path for us, and was delighted to get some matches in return. He said the cannon we heard yesterday were in an engagement with the ram Arkansas, which ran out of the Yazoo that morning. We did not stop for dinner to-day, but ate a hasty lunch in the boat, after which nothing but a small piece of bread was left. About two we reached the forks, one of which ran to the Yazoo, the other to the Old River. Max said the right fork was our road; H. said the left, that there was an error in Max’s map; but Max steered into the right fork. After pulling about three miles he admitted his mistake and turned back; but I shall never forget Old River. It was the vision of a drowned world, an illimitable waste of dead waters, stretching into a great, silent, desolate forest. A horror chilled me and I begged them to row fast out of that terrible place.

Just as we turned into the right way, down came the rain so hard and fast we had to stop on the bank. It defied trees or umbrellas and nearly took away the breath. The boat began to fill, and all five of us had to bail as fast as possible for the half-hour the sheet of water was pouring down. As it abated a cold breeze sprung up that, striking our wet clothes, chilled us to the bone. All were shivering and blue—no, I was green. Before leaving Mr. Fetler’s Wednesday morning I had donned a dark-green calico. I wiped my face with a handkerchief out of my pocket, and face and hands were all dyed a deep green. When Annie turned round and looked at me she screamed and I realized how I looked; but she was not much better, for of all dejected things wet feathers are the worst, and the plumes in her hat were painful.

About five we reached Colonel K.’s house, right where Steele’s Bayou empties into the Yazoo. We had both to be fairly dragged out of the boat, so cramped and weighted were we by wet skirts. The family were absent, and the house was headquarters for a squad of Confederate cavalry, which was also absent. The old colored housekeeper received us kindly and lighted fires in our rooms to dry the clothing. My trunk had got cracked on top, and all the clothing to be got at was wet. H. had dropped his in the river while lifting it out, and his clothes were wet. A spoonful of brandy apiece was left in the little flask, and I felt that mine saved me from being ill. Warm blankets and the brandy revived us, and by supper-time we got into some dry clothes.

Just then the squad of cavalry returned; they were only a dozen, but they made much, uproar, being in great excitement. Some of them were known to Max and H., who learned from them that a gunboat was coming to shell them out of this house. Then ensued a clatter such as twelve men surely never made before—rattling about the halls and galleries in heavy boots and spurs, feeding horses, calling for supper, clanking swords, buckling and unbuckling belts and pistols. At last supper was dispatched, and they mounted and were gone like the wind. We had a quiet supper and good night’s rest in spite of the expected shells, and did not wake till ten to-day to realize we were not killed. About eleven breakfast was furnished. Now we are waiting till the rest of our things are dried to start on our last day of travel by water.

______

Note: To protect Mrs. Miller’s job as a teacher in New Orleans, the diary was published anonymously, edited by G. W. Cable, names were changed and initials were often used instead of full names — and even the initials differed from the real person’s initials.

July 18.—Great excitement and terror existed among the citizens of Cincinnati, in consequence of the vicinity of the force of rebel guerrillas under John Morgan. Colonel Burbank, Thirteenth United States infantry, assumed military command of the city, and issued orders directing all officers in the volunteer service to report to him. The Governor of the State also issued an order calling for volunteers to serve for thirty days. The excitement of Cincinnati pervaded the adjoining towns in Kentucky.

—At Kingston, North-Carolina, two negroes were executed, by order of Colonel Sol Williams, C.S.A., having been found guilty of drumming up recruits for Burnside’s army.—Richmond Examiner, July 24.

—Col. Salomon, of the Ninth Wisconsin volunteers, at his encampment on Grand River, Ark., arrested Col. Weer, commander of the Indian expedition, and assumed command.

—A desperate fight took place near Memphis, Mo., between a detachment of Union troops, numbering about four hundred, under the command of Major John Y. Clopper, and a force of rebel guerrillas six hundred strong, resulting in a complete rout of the rebels, who left a large number of their dead and wounded.—(Doc. 153.)

—The Richmond (Va.) Despatch of this date, speaking of the proposition of employing negroes on the Union fortifications, said: “It appears from statements in the Northern newspapers that McClellan proposes to employ negroes to perform the hard labor on his fortifications, with a view to save his troops from the perils of sunstroke. This is the sort of freedom the deluded slaves enjoy when they get into the clutches of the abolitionists. They are worked to death, in order to save the lives of a proportionate number of miserable Yankees, not one half of whom can lay as much claim to respectability as the blackest cornfield negro in Virginia. We hope our authorities, in negotiating for an exchange of prisoners, will make the invaders account for at least a portion of the ‘contrabands’ they have stolen, though in making up their relative value it should appear that one nigger was equal to two Yankees.”

—The town of Newburg, Ind., was this day entered by a band of rebel guerrillas, under Capt. Johnson, and robbed of a large amount of property.—Evansville Journal, July 21.

—Large and enthusiastic meetings were held in Memphis, Tenn., Milwaukee, Wis., Danbury, Ct, and Troy, N. Y., for the purpose of promoting enlistments into the army, under the call of President Lincoln.

—In the British House of Commons a debate took place on the following motion submitted by Mr. Lindsay:

“That, in the opinion of this House, the States which have seceded from the Union of the republic of the United States have so long maintained themselves under a separate and established government, and have given such proof of their determination and ability to support their independence, that the propriety of offering mediation with the view of terminating hostilities between the contending parties, is worthy of the serious and immediate attention of her Majesty’s government”

In making this motion Mr. Lindsay said he felt assured that an expression of opinion on the part of the House on the subject would have an effect contrary to that which some persons seemed to apprehend. He thought the confederate States had shown their determination and ability to support their independence. There could be no difference of opinion on that point: but there might be a difference of opinion as to the propriety of British mediation. He then addressed the House on the origin and causes of the war; next he spoke of its effects; then he showed that, as he conceived, the end of the war must be separation; and, lastly, he endeavored to show that humanity and British interests demanded that a stop should be put to the war. It appeared strange and unaccountable to him that her Majesty’s government had taken no steps in that direction. It was clear that the South could not be conquered, and it was still more clear it could never be brought back again into the Union. He therefore submitted that the time had arrived when the Southern States ought to be received into the family of nations, and begged to make the above motion.

Mr. Taylor, who had given notice of an amendment to Mr. Lindsay’s motion, to leave out all the words after the words “House,” in order to insert the words, “it is desirable that this country should continue to maintain the strictest neutrality in the civil war unhappily existing in the republic of the United States,” said he thought Mr. Lindsay had not acted prudently in disregarding the suggestion of an honorable member, to forbear to move his resolution. It meant the recognition of the Southern States and intervention by force, which was another word for war with America. He had never heard, he said, such tremendous issues so raised; he, therefore, implored the House not to adopt the resolution.

Lord A. V. Tempest, who had given notice of a resolution, “that it is the duty of her Majesty’s government to endeavor, either by itself or in combination with other European Powers, by mediation or otherwise, to bring to a termination the existing contest in America,” said he thought the House should not separate without expressing an opinion on the subject of the war. He justified the interference of Great Britain on the grounds of humanity and of its responsibilities and duties. Mediation, however, he thought would be worthless unless backed by ulterior measures.

Mr. W. Foster said that, in his opinion, the motion was not calculated to put an end to the war, but was more likely to prolong it, and even to drag Great Britain into it. Was the object of the resolution, he asked, mediation or forcible interference? If the former, the less that was publicly said about it the better, and the mediator should be considered a friend to both parties; whereas Mr. Lindsay had avowed his partiality for the South. Then, if the offer of mediation was to be accompanied by a threat, it would be justly regarded as an insult, and would aggravate the evil. If the North were let alone it was not improbable it would find out that the subjugation of the South was too hard a task. He insisted that the civil strife was a great revolution, that tariffs had nothing to do with it, that slavery was the real cause of the war, and that it would put an end to slavery. He, therefore, advocated the principle and policy of non-intervention.

Mr. Whiteside observed, that although this question was difficult and delicate, that was no reason why the House of Commons should not express an opinion upon it; to shrink from doing it would be a cowardly proceeding on their part, and he thought Mr. Lindsay deserved well of the country in giving the government an opportunity of making known their sentiments on the subject. In his opinion the time had come when, upon the principles of international law, the Southern States, which had so long maintained their independence, might be recognized, without giving just ground of war or umbrage to the North. Mr. Gregory contended that though the war was for independence on one side, it was not for empire but for revenge on the other, in pursuit of which object every other consideration had been lost sight of by the North, and he insisted that Great Britain had a perfect right to endeavor to put a stop to such a state of things.

Mr. S. Fitzgerald moved the adjournment of the debate, when—

Lord Palmerston rose and said he hoped, after the length to which the debate had gone, that the House would be disposed to come to a decision to-night on the motion of the honorable member for Sunderland. The subject they had been debating was one of the highest importance, and one also of the most delicate character—and he could not think that the postponement of the conclusion of the debate could be attended with any beneficial result, either one way or the other. There could be but one wish on the part of every man in the country with respect to the war in America, and that was that it should end. He might doubt whether any end which could be satisfactory, or which could lead to an amicable settlement between the two parties was likely to be accelerated by angry debates in that House. He confessed, therefore, that he regretted that the discussion had been brought on, and he should earnestly hope that the House would not agree to the motion of his honorable friend, but would leave it in the hands of the government to deal with the future, content as he believed the country was with the manner in which the past had been conducted by them.

Mr. Hopwood said a few words concerning the distress of the operatives of Lancashire and Cheshire, which, he said, was entirely caused by the war in America, and implored the government to take some steps to put an end to the misery which the struggle was creating not only in America but in Europe.

Mr. Lindsay then asked the permission of the House to withdraw his motion, observing that he would rest satisfied with the statement of the noble lord at the head of the government, and the hope which it held out that he would take the earliest opportunity to bring about a termination of the war.

The motion was then withdrawn.