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

December 2012

December 26. — Thirty-eight condemned Indians were hung at Mankato, Minnesota, for participating in the late massacre in that State.— Jefferson Davis delivered an extended address on the subject of the rebellion, before the Legislature of Mississippi, assembled at Jackson.—(Doc. 87.)

—Major Stevens, of the Fourteenth Kentucky cavalry, with one hundred and fifty men, who were ordered upon a scout to ascertain the whereabouts of a large band of guerrillas in the eastern part of Powell County, Kentucky, after travelling all night over obscure and dangerous bridle-paths, came upon the rebel camps this morning. The Nationals dashed upon them, capturing their leader, a noted guerrilla, and eleven of his band. The remainder, though outnumbering Major Stevens’s force, were utterly routed, and escaped into the dense woods, brush, and mountain gorges. Twenty-five horses and a large amount of clothing, blankets, guns, pistols, etc., that were being transported to Humphrey Marshall’s camp, were also captured.—General Wright’s Despatch.

Thursday, 25th—Passed Fayetteville 10:30 A. M. Crossed Elk River on splendid stone bridge.

December 25 — This is Merry Christmas. This morning we resumed our march early and moved down the Valley nearly to Kernstown, where we encountered the Yankees and gave them a Christmas greeting in the shape of a few shell. We took the same position we held at the battle of Kernstown last spring. About sixty sharpshooters advanced on our position and attempted to drive us away. We opened fire on them with two guns and fired three rounds, which thoroughly settled the sharpshooting business for this Christmas. Their line fell back in a rather stirred-up mixture, and that was the last I saw of the sharpshooters. We remained in battery till sunset, to see whether the Yanks intended to advance on us in force. Their infantry camp was not far away, for I heard their drummers beating the long roll immediately after we opened fire on their sharpshooters. After dark this evening our cavalry kindled camp-fires all around the place we held to-day, to make the Yanks believe that we were many, and still holding the position. We fell back to Middletown and camped.

Thursday, 25th—General Rosecrans’s division passed here today on their way to Memphis. This is rather a gloomy, dry Christmas. We are still on half rations. But in spite of it, the boys are all enjoying themselves. They are taking everything that they can lay their hands on, carrying to their tents couches, rockers, chairs, tables, books, bric-a-brac—in fact, all kinds of household articles. Some of the boys, who are lovers of fancy books, sent home by express some of the most costly bound volumes. Holly Springs has certainly paid dear for burning our supplies.

From Mrs. Lyon’s Diary

Dec. 25, 1862.—The ladies all joined and got up a Christmas dinner for the officers.

Thursday, 25th. Rather a quiet day for Christmas. Wonder how the folks at home have spent the day, happily I hope. Received a note through A. B. Went over and had a good visit with him. Told me some encouraging things. Not much faith! In the evening wrote some. Saw Dwight Burrell. The day has been cloudy and damp. I have caught cold by some means. The air is getting colder this evening and the wind getting into the north. Washed up and changed my clothes. Where will another Christmas find me and the whole army?

Mount Felix, Walton on Thames1
December 25, 1862

Public matters remain yet in a profound state of repose, and probably will continue so for another month. The publication made by the Secretary of State of large portions of my Despatches for the past year has rather stirred a hornet’s nest in the press, but I fancy it will prove only a nine days’ wonder. I have said merely what everybody knows. The great body of the aristocracy and the wealthy commercial classes are anxious to see the United States go to pieces. On the other hand the middle and lower class sympathise with us, more and more as they better comprehend the true nature of the struggle. A good deal of dust was thrown into their eyes at first by the impudent pretense that the tariff was the cause of the war. All that is now over. Even the Times has no longer the assurance to repeat that fable. The true division now begins to make itself perceptible here as elsewhere in Europe — the party of the old and of the new, of vested rights and of well regulated freedom. All equally see in the convulsion in America an era in the history of the world, out of which must come in the end a general recognition of the right of mankind to the produce of their labor and the pursuit of happiness. Across all these considerations come occasionally individual and national interests which pervert the judgment for a time, but the world moves onward taking little note of temporary perturbations, and whatever may betide to us of this generation, the end is sure….

__________

1 Russell Sturgis’ place.

Written from the Sea islands of South Carolina.

[Diary] December 25.

The celebration went off grandly. The church was beautiful. Lottie draped the pulpit in long moss and put a wreath of red holly and broad leaves along the top, from which the moss fell like a fringe. The words, “His People Are Free,” were put up opposite the pulpit. Festoons of green hung between the pillars, with a cluster of red berries and magnolia leaves looping each up. On the walls were circlets of green, each surrounding a little flag that Miss Ware sent us. It was beautiful. We teachers were dressed in blue garibaldis, with gilt buttons down the shoulders, and black skirts.

Lieutenant-Colonel Billings, whom they call “Liberty Billings,” of the First South Carolina Volunteers,[1] was there and addressed the children. Mr. Fairfield also and Mr. Hunn. The singing was only pretty good — they were too much excited. The following is ” Whittier’s Hymn,” to the tune of “I will believe”: —

..

“Oh, none in all the world before
Were ever glad as we.
We’re free on Carolina’s shore;
We’re all at home and free!

..

Thou friend and helper of the poor.
Who suffered for our sake,
To open every prison door
And every yoke to break,

..

Look down, O Saviour, sweet and mild,
To help us sing and pray;
The hands that blessed the little child
Upon our foreheads lay.

..

To-day in all our fields of corn,
No driver’s whip we hear.
The holy day that saw Thee born
Was never half so dear.

..

The very oaks are greener clad,
The waters brighter smile,
Oh, never shone a day so glad
In sweet St. Helen’s Isle.

..

For none in all the world before
Were ever glad as we.
We’re free on Carolina’s shore;
We’re all at home and free!”

..

Written for the Philadelphia School on St. Helena at the request of Miss Charlotte Forten, to be sung at Christmas, 1862, by John G. Whittier.

After the exercises we drew each class out in the cross aisle and gave each child a garment.

Mr. Soule has made an estimate that there are 1177 children on St. Helena and Ladies Islands attending school.

On Port Royal, about 550 average attendance.

In Florida, 400.


[1] A negro regiment; Thomas Wentworth Higginson, colonel.

Lumpkin’s Mill, Thursday, Dec. 25. Christmas! Christmas! resounded through the camp this morning; everyone turning the gay reminiscence of the past in their minds and hoping again to enjoy. Laid quiet during the day. Ate a Christmas dinner of dumplings and unleavened bread. The howitzers ordered to prepare to march, going in charge of a provision train to Memphis. Troubled with bad cold.

Thursday, 25th—This morning just after being relieved the Yanks made a break on us. We were fired on just as we reached the Com., fought them all day, falling back about four miles (Christmas Day). Returned to Camp.