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

April 2015

Post image for Rutherford B. Hayes.

Rutherford B. Hayes.

April 16, 2015

Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes

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.

Post image for Rutherford B. Hayes.

Rutherford B. Hayes.

April 16, 2015

Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard 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.

Post image for Village Life in America.

Village Life in America.

April 16, 2015

Village Life in America, 1852 - 1872, by Caroline Cowles Richards

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.

Post image for Rutherford B. Hayes.

Rutherford B. Hayes.

April 16, 2015

Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes

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.

Post image for Diary of a Southern Refugee, Judith White McGuire.

Diary of a Southern Refugee, Judith White McGuire.

April 16, 2015

Diary of a Southern Refugee During the War by Judith White McGuire

Sunday Night.—The Episcopal churches being closed, we went to the Rev. Dr. Hoge’s church. The rector was absent; he went off, to be in Confederate lines; but the Rev. Dr. Read, whose church is in ruins, occupied the pulpit.

Strange rumours are afloat to-night. It is said, and believed, that Lincoln is dead, and -Seward much injured. As I passed the house of a friend this evening, she raised the window and told me the report. Of course I treated it as a Sunday rumour; but the story is strengthened by the way which the Yankees treat it. They, of course, know all about it, and to-morrow’s papers will reveal the particulars. I trust that, if true, it may not be by the hand of an assassin, though it would seem to fulfil the warnings of Scripture. His efforts to carry out his abolition theories have caused the shedding of oceans of Southern blood, and by man it now seems has his blood been shed. But what effect will it have on the South? We may have much to fear. Future events will show. This event has made us wild with excitement and speculation.

General Lee has returned. He came unattended, save by his staff—came without notice, and without parade; but he could not come unobserved; as soon as his approach was whispered, a crowd gathered in his path, not boisterously, but respectfully, and increasing rapidly as he advanced to his home on Franklin Street, between 8th and 9th, where, with a courtly bow to the multitude, he at once retired to the bosom of his beloved family. When I called in to see his high-minded and patriotic wife, a day or two after the evacuation, she was busily engaged in her invalid’s chair, and very cheerful and hopeful. “The end is not yet,” she said, as if to cheer those around her; “Richmond is not the Confederacy.” To this we all most willingly assented, and felt very much gratified and buoyed by her brightness. I have not had the heart to visit her since the surrender, but hear that she still is sanguine, saying that “General Lee is not the Confederacy,” and that there is “life in the old land yet.” He is not the Confederacy; but our hearts sink within us when we remember that he and his noble army are now idle, and that we can no longer look upon them as the bulwark of our land. He has returned from defeat and disaster with the universal and profound admiration of the world, having done all that skill and valour could accomplish. The scenes at the surrender were noble and touching. General Grant’s bearing was profoundly respectful; General Lee’s as courtly and lofty as the purest chivalry could require. The terms, so honourable to all parties, being complied with to the letter, our arms were laid down with breaking hearts, and tears such as stoutest warriors may shed. “Woe worth the day!”

Post image for Through Some Eventful Years

Through Some Eventful Years

April 16, 2015

Through Some Eventful Years by Susan Bradford Eppes

April 16th, 1865.—We have seen no more of McCook’s men. It took a long, long time for the dusty column in blue to pass our place. The officers were very strict with the men and did not allow them to straggle nor did they let the men come inside the enclosure for any purpose; we were so afraid of them at first. Aunt Sue wants me to go to spend the night with her but I am not willing to leave the home folks just now.

This morning Father sent for all the men on the plantation to come up in the yard. They came and they seemed ill at ease and I wondered what Father sent for them to do. Well, my curiosity has been gratified. When they had filed into the back yard and stood silently around, Father said: “My people, I have sent for you to tell you that you are my people no longer; the fortunes of war have taken you out of my hands—you are free men now.

“It is no longer your duty to work for me and it is no longer my duty to feed and clothe you but I shall continue to do this until suitable arrangements can be made. I hope each of you will stay on at his accustomed work and I can assure you that my feelings toward you have known no change and will not unless you give me cause. We are no longer master and slave but we can still be friends.”

Father’s face was pale and his. voice almost gave out once but he got through it splendidly and the negroes seemed much impressed. Some of the men cried, some spoke regretfully, Uncle Ben came and stood near by, then others crowded around and found their tongues. Only two looked surly and had nothing to say, Luke and Tup. They went off muttering to themselves, a habit so many have. Mother says she is not going to say anything to them, she will let events shape themselves.

Tonight Lulu came as usual to see me safe in bed and when she had said “goodnight,” she came back and, leaning over me, she said, “I’m always goin’ to love my child,” then she was gone. It makes me feel queer; life has changed.

Post image for “I don’t remember at any time of being despondent over the war or being doubtful of the issue. Was I?”–Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, Charles Wright Wills.

“I don’t remember at any time of being despondent over the war or being doubtful of the issue. Was I?”–Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, Charles Wright Wills.

April 15, 2015

Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, Charles Wright Wills, (8th Illinois Infantry)

Raleigh, April 15, 1865.

To-day makes four years soldiering for me. It is a terrible waste of time for me who have to make a start in life yet, and I expect unfits me for civil life. I have almost a dread of being a citizen, of trying to be sharp, and trying to make money. I don’t think I dread the work. I don’t remember of shirking any work I ever attempted, but I am sure that civil life will go sorely against the grain for a time. Citizens are not like soldiers, and I like soldier ways much the best. We were to have moved out this morning but did not. Logan went out with our 4th division, report says, to confer with Johnston. Big rumors going that our campaign is over, and that Johnston’s men are going home. We have been having heavy showers during the day, but the boys feel so good over the prospect ahead that they raise the most tremendous cheers right in the midst of the hardest rains. We think Johnston is in as tight a place as Lee was, and if he don’t surrender we will go for him in a way that will astonish him. We consider our cause gained and are searching each other’s records to see who was ever doubtful of success. I don’t remember at any time of being despondent over the war or being doubtful of the issue. Was I? I did think the war might last for years yet, but take that back. I have not been in town since we came through, and think no one from the brigade has. Curiosity over captured cities is “old.”

Post image for Army letters of Oliver Willcox Norton.

Army letters of Oliver Willcox Norton.

April 15, 2015

Army letters of Oliver Willcox Norton (Eighty-third Pennsylvania Volunteers)

Baltimore, Md.,
April 15, 1S65.

Dear Brother and Sister:—

I am only so far on my way as yet, and take the opportunity afforded by my detention till this afternoon to drop you a line. I bought my ticket to Philadelphia, via Elmira, and arriving at Elmira found I could not get through that way. I return the ticket to you, Charlie. It was nothing less than a swindle to sell it to me. Take it back to the office there and demand the fare from Elmira to Philadelphia. They are obliged to take it up, as they knew that no trains had run over that road for two weeks.

I went to New York, stopped over night, got my pictures and went on to Philadelphia. Stopped there to get my pay for March and went up to Camp William Penn. Came on here yesterday and leave for Richmond this afternoon.

The news of Lee’s surrender is true. Better than all my hopes was the prospect of the end of the war. It was ended on the 9th and every one admitted it. New York, Philadelphia and Baltimore were jubilant. Joy on every face and tongue. I could not see or hear of a secession sympathizer. At the theater last night a band from Lee’s army was present and played “Hail Columbia” and the “Red, White and Blue,” and here in Baltimore those tunes were vociferously cheered. I went to bed happy, thinking of the glorious change, and came down this morning to be astounded by the news that President Lincoln was assassinated last night at Ford’s Theater in Washington and Secretary Seward and his son were stabbed at almost the same hour. The Secretary will perhaps recover, but his son cannot live. The President was shot through the head by a man who entered his private box from behind, shot him and then leaped upon the stage brandishing a dagger and disappeared behind the scenes, escaping at the back of the theater before the audience knew what had occurred. The President died at 7:22 this morning.

It is too terrible to think of, and I cannot imagine the consequences. We could have spared him better at almost any other time. What can we do with such a President as Andy Johnson? What effect will it have on the question of peace?

Well, we can do nothing but wait. The nation’s joy is changed to mourning and to mutterings of vengeance on the cowardly assassins and the infamous plotters who arranged the murders. J. W. Booth, the actor, is said to be the assassin of the President, and it is hoped he will be arrested to-day.

Post image for Downing’s Civil War Diary.–Alexander G. Downing.

Downing’s Civil War Diary.–Alexander G. Downing.

April 15, 2015

Diary of Alexander G. Downing; Company E, Eleventh Iowa Infantry

Saturday, 15th—We started at 7 a. m., marched only four miles and went into camp again. News came from the front that Johnston had stopped fighting for the purpose of surrendering his army to General Sherman. It rained hard all day, but we don’t mind that when hearing such glorious news as the surrender of Johnston. The Third and First Divisions remained in camp.

Post image for War Diary of Luman Harris Tenney

War Diary of Luman Harris Tenney

April 15, 2015

War Diary of Luman Harris Tenney.

15th. Wrote several letters and read the papers. Yesterday put in application for leave of absence. I am very anxious to see my dear mother. Would that Johnston would be wise and surrender. Think he will be. Thank God that peace is so near and a united country will live to advance religion, justice and liberty. Forage detail. Virginians thoroughly submissive.

← Previous Entries

Next Entries →