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

The American Civil War

Post image for “ ‘Burn it, bum it to the ground!’ She ran to the yard to know the cause; instantly this lonely woman was surrounded by a lawless, shouting soldiery, each with a burning torch, revealing, by its lurid and fitful light, a countenance almost demoniac.”—Diary of a Southern Refugee, Judith White McGuire.

“ ‘Burn it, bum it to the ground!’ She ran to the yard to know the cause; instantly this lonely woman was surrounded by a lawless, shouting soldiery, each with a burning torch, revealing, by its lurid and fitful light, a countenance almost demoniac.”—Diary of a Southern Refugee, Judith White McGuire.

August 26, 2011

Diary of a Southern Refugee During the War by Judith White McGuire,The American Civil War

Norwood, Near Berryville, August 26.—On a visit of a few days to our relative, Dr. M. The people of this neighbourhood occupied as they are in the one I left. All hearts and hands seem open to our army. Four heavily laden wagons have left Berryville within a few days, for the hospitals below. We are all anxious about Western Virginia, of which we can hear so little. General Lee and General Floyd are there, and if they can only have men and ammunition enough we have nothing to fear.

 

The army in Fairfax seems quiet. Colonel Stuart, with his cavalry, has driven the enemy back, and taken possession of “Chestnut Hill” as head-quarters. There they are overlooking Washington, Georgetown, and our neighbourhood, all bristling with cannon, to prevent their nearer approach. Some of those young men can almost point from the hills on which they are encamped, to chimneys of their own firesides, the portals of their own homes. The woods are cleared away for miles; even the yard trees are gone, leaving the houses in bold relief, with nothing to shade, nothing to obscure them. I do pity those who were obliged to stay in Southern homes, with Southern hearts, surrounded by bitter and suspicious enemies. My old friend Mrs. D. is sometimes in their lines, sometimes in ours. When our men are near her, they are fed from her table, and receive all manner of kindness from her hands. Some of my nephews have been invited to her table, and treated as her relations. When they entered her house she advanced towards them with outstretched hands. “You don’t know me, but I knew your mother, father, and all your relations; and besides, I am connected with you, and you must come to my house while near me, as to that of an old friend.” Nothing could be more grateful to a soldier far away from home and friends. But these were her bright moments. She has had many trials while in the enemy’s lines. Her husband and grown son are in the Confederate service; she has sent her two young daughters to her friends in the lower country, and has remained as the protector of her property, with her two sons of eight and ten, as her companions. On one occasion her servant was driving the cows from her yard to be milked; from very loneliness she called to the servant to remain and milk them where they were; the very tinkling of the cow-bell was pleasant to her. It was scarcely done when a posse of soldiers came with their bayonets gleaming in the moonlight, and demanded, “Why did you have a bell rung in your yard this evening?” “Do you mean, why did the cow-bell ring? Because the cow shook her head while she was being milked.” “But you don’t have the cows milked in the yard every evening. It was a signal to the rebels—you know it was—and your house shall be burnt for it.” She then had to plead her innocence to save her house, which they pretended not to believe until the servants were called up to prove her statements. They then, with threats and curses, went off. Another night she carried a candle from room to room to seek some missing article. In a short time several soldiers were seen running to her house with lighted torches, yelling “Burn it, bum it to the ground!” She ran to the yard to know the cause; instantly this lonely woman was surrounded by a lawless, shouting soldiery, each with a burning torch, revealing, by its lurid and fitful light, a countenance almost demoniac. They seemed perfectly lawless, and without a leader, for each screamed out, “We are ordered to burn your house.” “Why?” said she. “Because you have signal-lights at your windows for the d__d rebels.” She immediately suspected that no such order had been given, and summoning firmness of voice and manner to her aid, she ordered them off, saying that she should send for an officer. They did go, uttering imprecations on her defenceless head. But a still more trying scene occurred a short time ago. Our soldiers were surrounding her house, when Colonel Stuart sent off a raiding party. During that night the Yankees advanced, and our men retired. The Yankees at once heard that the raiders were out; but in what direction was the question. They came up to her house, and knowing the mother too well to attempt to extort any thing from her, ordered the little boys to tell them in what direction Colonel Stuart had gone. The boys told them that they could tell nothing. Threats followed; finally handcuffs and irons for the ankles were brought. Still those little heroes stood, the one as pale as ashes, the other with his teeth clenched over his under lip, until the blood was ready to gush out, but not one word could be extorted, until, with a feeling of hopelessness in their efforts, they went off, calling them cursed little rebels, etc. The mother saw all this, and stood it unflinchingly—poor thing! It is harrowing to think of her sufferings. Yet, if she comes away, her house will be sacked, and perhaps burnt.

 

We are sometimes alarmed by reports that the enemy is advancing upon Winchester; but are enabled to possess our souls in patience, and hope that all may be well. I see that they are encroaching upon the Northern Neck. I trust they may be repulsed from that fair land.

Post image for Mar Chesnut’s Diary: “Why do you write in your diary at all,” some one said to me, “if, as you say, you have to contradict every day what you wrote yesterday?”

Mar Chesnut’s Diary: “Why do you write in your diary at all,” some one said to me, “if, as you say, you have to contradict every day what you wrote yesterday?”

August 26, 2011

A Diary From Dixie by Mary Boykin Miller Chesnut.,The American Civil War

August 26th.—The Terror has full swing at the North now. All the papers favorable to us have been suppressed. How long would our mob stand a Yankee paper here? But newspapers against our government, such as the Examiner and the Mercury flourish like green bay-trees. A man up to the elbows in finance said to-day: “Clayton’s story is all nonsense. They do sometimes pay out two millions a week; they paid the soldiers this week, but they don’t pay the soldiers every week.” “Not by a long shot,” cried a soldier laddie with a grin.

“Why do you write in your diary at all,” some one said to me, “if, as you say, you have to contradict every day what you wrote yesterday?” “Because I tell the tale as it is told to me. I write current rumor. I do not vouch for anything.”

We went to Pizzini’s, that very best of Italian confectioners. From there we went to Miss Sally Tompkins’s hospital, loaded with good things for the wounded. The men under Miss Sally’s kind care looked so clean and comfortable—cheerful, one might say. They were pleasant and nice to see. One, however, was dismal in tone and aspect, and he repeated at intervals with no change of words, in a forlorn monotone: “What a hard time we have had since we left home.” But nobody seemed to heed his wailing, and it did not impair his appetite.

At Mrs. Toombs’s, who was raging; so anti-Davis she will not even admit that the President is ill. “All humbug.” “But what good could pretending to be ill do him? ” “That reception now, was not that a humbug? Such a failure. Mrs. Reagan could have done better than that.”

Mrs. Walker is a Montgomery beauty, with such magnificent dresses. She was an heiress, and is so dissatisfied with Richmond, accustomed as she is to being a belle under different conditions. As she is as handsome and well dressed as ever, it must be the men who are all wrong.

“Did you give Lawrence that fifty-dollar bill to go out and change it?” I was asked. “Suppose he takes himself off to the Yankees. He would leave us with not too many fifty-dollar bills.” He is not going anywhere, however. I think his situation suits him. That wadded belt of mine, with the gold pieces quilted in, has made me ashamed more than once. I leave it under my pillow and my maid finds it there and hangs it over the back of a chair, in evidence as I reenter the room after breakfast. When I forget and leave my trunk open, Lawrence brings me the keys and tells me, “You oughten to do so, Miss Mary.” Mr. Chesnut leaves all his little money in his pockets, and Lawrence says that’s why he can’t let any one but himself brush Mars Jeems’s clothes.

A Diary of American Events.–August 26, 1861

Post image for A Diary of American Events.–August 26, 1861

August 26, 2011

The American Civil War,The Rebellion Record—A Diary of American Events; by Frank Moore

August 26.—The Eighteenth regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers, under the command of Colonel James Barnes, of Springfield, left their camp at Readville, near Dedham, this afternoon for the seat of war. The regiment numbers eight hundred and seventy men, but will be recruited to one thousand and forty within a few weeks. They are uniformed in the conventional blue and gray of Massachusetts, armed with Springfield muskets of 1842, and fully equipped. They have camp equipage, company wagons and ambulances, and sixty horses, a band of twenty-five pieces enlisted for the war, twenty-five thousand rounds of ball cartridges, and twenty-five thousand rounds of buckshot, and, in fact, all the paraphernalia of war ready to fit them for immediate service in the field.

Of the officers, many are specially qualified for their positions. Col. Barnes is distinguished for having been in the same class with Jeff. Davis, at West Point, graduating A one, when Jeff, was No. twenty-seven, in a class of thirty one. Lieut.-Col. Ingraham was in the Massachusetts Fourth, stationed at Fortress Monroe. Major Haves is a graduate of Harvard College, and quite popular. Adjutant Hodge was an officer of the Massachusetts Fifth, and distinguished himself at Bull Run, saving the life of Col. Lawrence. Surgeon Smith was educated in Paris, and was connected with Major Cobb’s battery. Other officers of the regiment have seen active service. Most of the men are farmers and mechanics, of moderate means, excellent health, and unwavering devotion to the cause of the Union.—N. Y. Times, August 28.

—A Correspondent of the Philadelphia Inquirer gives an extended account of a visit of the privateer “Sumter ” to Puerto Cabello, together with a copy of a letter from Raphael Semmes, her commander, to the governor of that place.—(Doc. 9.)

—A Battle occurred at Summersville,[1] in Western Virginia, this morning. The Seventh Ohio regiment, Colonel Tyler, was surrounded whilst at breakfast, and attacked on both flanks and in the front simultaneously. The national forces immediately formed for battle and fought bravely, though they saw but little chance of success. The rebels proving too powerful, Col. Tyler sent forward to the baggage train, which was coming up three miles distant, and turned it back toward Gauley Bridge, which place it reached in safety.

Companies B, C, and I suffered most severely. They particularly were in the hottest of the fight, and finally fought their way, through fearful odds, making great havoc in the enemy’s forces. The rebel force consisted of three thousand infantry, four hundred cavalry, and ten guns. The Union forces scattered, after cutting their way through the enemy, but soon formed again and fired, but received no reply or pursuit from the enemy. Not over two hundred were missing, out of nine hundred engaged. The rebel loss was fearful. Lieut.-Col. Creighton captured the rebels’ colors and two prisoners. The following is a list of national officers known to be killed: Captain Dyer, Company D, of Painesville; Captain Shurtleff, Company C, of Oberlin; Captain Sterling, Company I; Adjutant Deforest, of Cleveland; Lieutenant Charles Warrent; Sergeant-Major King, of Warren. The field-officers are all safe.

—The Twenty-fifth regiment of Indiana Volunteers left Evansville for St. Louis, Mo.— Louisville Journal, August 28.

—Henry Wilson, Senator from Massachusetts, was commissioned to organize a regiment of infantry, with a battery of artillery and a company of sharpshooters attached. In his call he asks the loyal young men of Massachusetts, who fully comprehend the magnitude of the contest for the unity and existence of the Republic, and the preservation of Democratic institutions in America, to inscribe their names upon the rolls of his regiment, and to leave their homes and their loved ones, and follow our flag to the field.

—The War Department issued an important order, prohibiting all communication, verbally or by printing or telegraph, respecting the operations of military movements, either by land or sea, or relating to the troops, camps, arsenals, intrenchments, or military affairs, within any of the military districts, by which information shall be given to the enemy, under the penalty prescribed by the Fifty-seventh Article of War, which is death, or such other punishment as a court-martial shall impose.—(Doc. 11.)

—The Postmaster-General of the United States, acting under the proclamation of the President interdicting commercial intercourse with the seceded States, directed the postal agents of the Government to put an end to transmission of letters to the seceded States, by the arrest of any express agent or other persons who shall hereafter receive letters to be carried to or from these States.—(Doc. 12.)

—Captain Foote was ordered to the command of the United States naval forces on the Western waters—namely, the Mississippi, Missouri, and Ohio rivers.—N. Y. Herald, August 27.

—A naval and military expedition sailed from Fortress Monroe, under the joint command of Commodore Stringham and Major-General Butler. It consisted of the frigates Minnesota and Wabash, the sloop-of-war Pawnee, gunboats Monticello, Harriet Lane, and Quaker City, with numerous transports.—See Aug. 29.

—A Camp of instruction at Scarsdale, Westchester County, N. Y., was opened under command of Brigadier-General E. L. Viele. The camp is about seventy acres in extent, situated on an upland which gradually slopes toward the Bronx River, where there is excellent bathing. All regiments and companies recruited, and not imperatively needed at Washington, as fast as they are sworn in, will be sent to this camp, and there subjected to the most thorough drill and discipline. General Viele has adopted stringent and wholesome regulations for the government of his camp. All officers are required to stay in camp, and put up with soldier’s fare, instead of dissipating their time in the city. No officer will be allowed to wear the insignia of rank until he is sworn in. All the other rules in use among the regular service, for the government of camps, will be enforced at Scarsdale. The name of the new encampment is “Camp Howe.”—N. Y. Commercial, August 27.

—Colonel Jones, of the Fourth Alabama regiment, died at Orange Court House, Va., from wounds received in the battle of Bull Bun.

[1] Summersville is the county-seat of Nicholas County, the next eastt of Kanawha County, and is about fifty miles from Charleston, the central position of the Kanawha Valley. It is about twenty-five miles from Gauley Bridge, and up the Gauley River.

Post image for England and the cotton question.–Adams Family Letters; Charles Francis Adams, Jr., to his brother in London, Henry Adams

England and the cotton question.–Adams Family Letters; Charles Francis Adams, Jr., to his brother in London, Henry Adams

August 25, 2011

Adams Family Civil War letters; US Minister to the UK and his sons.,The American Civil War

 

Quincy, Sunday, August 25, 1861

In my letter I begged you to go to work and try to make the two countries understand each other, for to my eye our foreign relations look very formidable. Why, when England and France are collecting fleets in our southern waters, do we all of a sudden hear rumors of a joint Mexican protectorate? It would be a blessing to mankind, but how will it complicate our relations? This cotton question is beginning to pinch and soon, if ever, if you have any desire to be useful to your country, backed by any energy, you can be useful where you are.

In my letter I asked you to touch England through her pocket. For some time past I have been turning over in my mind an elaborate article on this cotton supply question, but necessarily to be of any good to any one it must be directed more to English eyes than to ours. I touched on it in my last letter, and now I should like to hand it over to you, to see if you can do anything with it. I would write it for the Edinburgh or some really influential review or magazine, but to have effect it should appear in November, when the cotton-shoe will begin to pinch dreadfully, and I would force it into print by laying the plan of it before Mr. Motley or the Governor, or any other person likely to have influence on editors. That done throw your soul into your work and write as if you meant what you said. You always affect in writing too much calmness and quaint philosophy. That will come to you in time, but you do it now at the price of that fresh enthusiasm which is the charm of young writers. If you write now, write as if you were pleading a cause and too much interested to be affected. Throw your soul into your work and say what you feel. If you don’t check it, your mannerism will ruin your style in less than five years.

 

However now for the subject. The books you ought to review, or rather hang your subject on, are Mann’s Manual of Cotton, a book of about one hundred pages; the third annual report of the Manchester Cotton Supply Association and the numbers for May and June of the Cotton Supply Reporter of Manchester, and any new book dealing of the troubles in this country. If you accept the subject I have many curious facts collected, which I will send you at once. Start at once with the paradox that, instead of desiring to break this blockade, England should pray it might last for two years and if necessary assist in enforcing it, as if enforced its inevitable result must be, after one or at most two years of high prices, to forever break down the price of cotton to a reasonable profit over the cost of its cheapest possible production. This opens the whole question of supply. Two things are necessary to the production of cotton — an abundance of labor and a cotton soil. Look into the question of soil first. A semi-tropical heat, with a distribution of rain, are the only essentials. India has not the last and will not do; but Central and South America, all Africa (which is not desert), Australia and the Fiji Islands are better than our cotton states and need only organized labor. This with all the necessary material of ships, channels of trade, custom and experience, our planters have to such a degree that while they would furnish a fair supply of cotton on moderate terms, they could kill competition. Now is England’s chance to free herself from what has been her terror for years. In India, in Egypt in Abyssinia and in South Africa, there is an unlimited amount of cotton land of the finest quality and labor is abundant, costing almost nothing, but unorganized. Two years’ competition will organize it and once organized it can sell the South. In Australia, the South Sea islands and Central America, there is no labor and here the cooley question rises. Properly regulated the trade would be a blessing, for the Chinese amalgamates and California is in point as well as Dana’s reflections on Cuba. The books I have mentioned will give you all the information necessary on these points. This would bring cotton down to the cost, with a profit, of its production in cheap labor countries, say three pence a pound. But it would also lead to immense indirect advantages. As a missionary scheme Africa would be opened up and Livingstone’s discoveries made of use; slavery in America would be killed and the slave-trade closed for ever, as the African would be more useful at home than abroad. You will find in the first few pages of a new book called Social Statics more curious facts and reflections on England’s efforts at the suppression of the slavetrade, and this leads to the amount yearly expended in its suppression in this way, and which the consequent withdrawal of the fleet would save that government, and the amount England could thus afford to pay to promote the enterprise. Finally it would open the untold tropical fertility of Africa to the commerce of the world and these advantages cannot be estimated. Thus cotton would be produced on both sides of the equator all the year round in unlimited quantities, and England would have by two years’ suffering cut the meshes which she could never have broken.

On the other hand England breaks the blockade, or the South is victorious, England may then as well hug her chains, for she must wear them. The Southern confederacy will be aggressive and more slaves and more cotton will be the cry. In spite of England the slave-trade will flourish and their system will spread over Mexico and Central America. Then with the advantages of their organization, slave labor will win the day and England may look for competition in vain. The cotton monopoly will stifle her in the end. They will pretend in Parliament that the recognition of the Confederate States will not extend the area of slavery and all that humbug. Expose this, for it will be a victory of slavery. Recognition will mean war and the prostration at the feet of slavery of free society in America. England can do this if she chooses, but let her not deceive herself and let the results of her action be patent.

Finally the importance of this struggle cannot be overestimated. On the inviolability of the blockade and the consequent cotton pressure throughout the world hangs the destruction of American slavery, the eternal suppression of the slave-trade, the emancipation of England from a thraldom under which her great industrial interest has groaned for fifty years, and finally the civilization and awakening from Barbarism of the great continent of Africa. Even America, deprived of her monopoly, would reap advantage from the result, and this I tried to show in my article in the Atlantic of last April. Are not these results worth the agony of two years of half labor in Lancashire? Are they not worth fighting for? Can England hesitate as to which side her interest favors — as to what course she will adopt?

Here is a general sketch of my idea. I think it would be of service in England and if written as a man should write who is writing for his country at such a time as this, it would surely command attention. Any assistance I can give you I gladly will; but I earnestly beg you, even if this subject does not please you, to make yourself useful in your present position in some way of this kind. You can’t tell how much effect here a sympathetic word from England has now, and you can be of the greatest use if you only will. . . .

Post image for “I have the duties of Captain, 1st Lieutenant, and 2d Lieutenant, all combined, at present to perform..,”—War Letters of William Thompson Lusk.

“I have the duties of Captain, 1st Lieutenant, and 2d Lieutenant, all combined, at present to perform..,”—War Letters of William Thompson Lusk.

August 25, 2011

The American Civil War,War Letters of William Thompson Lusk.

Kosciusko Farm,

August 25th, 1861.

My dear Mother:

I am seated writing my usual Sunday letter, happy to state that my spirits are good and health excellent, as Uncle Charles will confirm. I was out drilling my men yesterday, when my attention was attracted by somebody nodding to me in a familiar style — a second glance told that it was Uncle Charley, and no other. I was much pleased at his kindness in looking me up, as well as to see him again. You will find he is looking well, and will learn from him that he entertains Republican sentiments of so decided a stripe that I, who was formerly a sort of an abolitionist, am obliged to confess myself a conservative in comparison. I received from Thomas a very pretty present, through the Express office, a few days ago. It consisted of a case containing knife, fork, spoon and cup — things which I shall find highly useful when on the march. When in Virginia before, provided with no such conveniences, fingers were obliged to adapt themselves to the performance of all the varied functions of “table services.” You ask for my address! I never can give you any fixed address, as no Regiment knows where it will be twenty-four hours in advance, but anything directed to the 79th Regiment, N. Y. S. M., Washington, will be forwarded without difficulty. I was in earnest in wishing that I was connected with some New England Regiment, but not in earnest as regards any intention of deserting my present post because of any difficulty attending it. As long as my friends stick by the 79th, I shall not surely be less faithful than are they. The wish to change arose from a desire to take part in the approaching battle to be conducted by McClellan, in which, it seemed probable, the 79th would be too much crippled to take any prominent part. Our Regiment is, however, now rapidly recovering from the effects of the battle and the intrigues of the old rum-selling officers now happily resigned. I have some responsibility resting upon me, as I am detailed to take sole charge of one of the Companies. I have the duties of Captain, 1st Lieutenant, and 2d Lieutenant, all combined, at present to perform, so I have little right to think of abandoning my post. In confidence I may add that possibly five or six of us may be transferred to a new Regiment by the Secretary of War. The Regiment would be under his patronage, and be called the “Cameron Highlanders.” In this new Regiment I most likely would be assigned the post of Captain. However neither say or think anything about this, as it is by no means determined yet. The letter from Fräulein Mathilde contained the kind wishes of the family, and an invitation to be present at her wedding which is to take place on the 1st of September. I find I have grown rusty in the German language, so that I had no little difficulty in deciphering the young lady’s epistle.

Have I written you that we are now encamped on Kosciusko’s farm? It is a pleasant spot, but damp. I hear we are to be marched off somewhere to-morrow. Report names Georgetown as our probable destination.

Uncle Charles is still in town I hear, but I cannot leave camp to visit him.

I will take the photograph question into consideration when we get paid off. Tell Lilly she must accept thanks and love for her kind letter, but I do not mean to answer it until after some success occurs.

Thank Mary for her kind intentions regarding writing me. Love to the little ones. Ask Will if he wants to be a soldier. Turly shall be made a Congressman, and get appointed Chairman of the Military Committee.

Love to all.

Believe me,

Very Affec’y.,

William T. Lusk.

Post image for Mary Chesnut’s Diary: “Now, cotton always means money, or did when there was an outlet for it and anybody to buy it. Where is money to come from now?”

Mary Chesnut’s Diary: “Now, cotton always means money, or did when there was an outlet for it and anybody to buy it. Where is money to come from now?”

August 25, 2011

A Diary From Dixie by Mary Boykin Miller Chesnut.,The American Civil War

August 25th.—Mr. Barnwell says democracies lead to untruthfulness. To be always electioneering is to be always false; so both we and the Yankees are unreliable as regards our own exploits. “How about empires? Were there ever more stupendous lies than the Emperor Napoleon’s?” Mr. Barnwell went on: “People dare not tell the truth in a canvass; they must conciliate their constituents. Now everybody in a democracy always wants an office; at least, everybody in Richmond just now seems to want one.” Never heeding interruptions, he went on: “As a nation, the English are the most truthful in the world.” “And so are our country gentlemen: they own their constituents—at least, in some of the parishes, where there are few whites; only immense estates peopled by negroes.” Thackeray speaks of the lies that were told on both sides in the British wars with France; England kept quite alongside of her rival in that fine art. England lied then as fluently as Russell lies about us now.

Went to see Agnes De Leon, my Columbia school friend. She is fresh from Egypt, and I wished to hear of the Nile, the crocodiles, the mummies, the Sphinx, and the Pyramids. But her head ran upon Washington life, such as we knew it, and her soul was here. No theme was possible but a discussion of the latest war news.

Mr. Clayton, Assistant Secretary of State, says we spend two millions a week. Where is all that money to come from? They don’t want us to plant cotton, but to make provisions. Now, cotton always means money, or did when there was an outlet for it and anybody to buy it. Where is money to come from now?

Mr. Barnwell’s new joke, I dare say, is a Joe Miller, but Mr. Barnwell laughed in telling it till he cried. A man was fined for contempt of court and then, his case coming on, the Judge talked such arrant nonsense and was so warped in his mind against the poor man, that the “fined one” walked up and handed the august Judge a five-dollar bill. “Why? What is that for?” said the Judge. “Oh, I feel such a contempt of this court coming on again!”

I came up tired to death; took down my hair; had it hanging over me in a Crazy Jane fashion; and sat still, hands over my head (half undressed, but too lazy and sleepy to move). I was sitting in a rocking-chair by an open window taking my ease and the cool night air, when suddenly the door opened and Captain walked in.

He was in the middle of the room before he saw his mistake; he stared and was transfixed, as the novels say. I dare say I looked an ancient Gorgon. Then, with a more frantic glare, he turned and fled without a word. I got up and bolted the door after him, and then looked in the glass and laughed myself into hysterics. I shall never forget to lock the door again. But it does not matter in this case. I looked totally unlike the person bearing my name, who, covered with lace cap, etc., frequents the drawing-room. I doubt if he would know me again.

A Diary of American Events.–August 25, 1861

Post image for A Diary of American Events.–August 25, 1861

August 25, 2011

The American Civil War,The Rebellion Record—A Diary of American Events; by Frank Moore

August 25.—This evening, Mr. William S. Johnston, a nephew of the rebel general of that name, and grandson of Mrs. Henry Gilpin, of Philadelphia, was arrested in that city as he was about leaving for the South. Mr. Johnston made no resistance whatever, and was taken to the Central station, accompanied by some friends, among whom was Townsend Ward, of Philadelphia. A strict examination of his effects was made by the District Attorney. In his trunk was found a large number of papers addressed to prominent Southern citizens, and a map of the seat of war in Virginia. His commission, however, was not discovered. After his examination, Mr. Johnston bade farewell to his friends, and was conveyed to Moyamensing prison in charge of the officers.—N. Y. Commercial, August 26.

—All the large craft, schooners, and sloops, and small rowboats and skiffs on the Potomac River, were seized by the Government authorities.—N. Y. Herald, August 27.

—A Union man named Moore was killed, and another named Neill mortally wounded, this afternoon, by a gang of five secessionists, at Shotwell Toll-gate, Ky., seven miles from Covington. Both men were stabbed in the back. A party of Unionists gave pursuit to the murderers, who fled toward the Tennessee line.— N. Y. Times, August 27.

—”Wm. Halsey, hailing from Ithaca, N. Y., was waited upon by a party of citizens at his hotel, in Scranton, Pa., and requested to leave town in three hours, or accept the alternative of riding out on a rail. He had given provocation beyond endurance, by endeavoring to induce parties to take the New York Day Book, and by uttering the rankest treason. He left precipitately.—N. Y. Times, August 27.

—William B. Taylor, the Postmaster of New York, received orders from “Washington that no more copies of the Journal of Commerce, the News, the Freeman’s Journal, or the Brooklyn Eagle, should be sent through the mails.—N. Y. Times, August 26.

—Egbert L. Viele, late Captain of the Engineer corps of the Seventh regiment, received his commission as Brigadier-General in the regular army. General Viele is a graduate of West Point, and served through the Mexican war, but of late years has been engaged in civil life as an engineer.—N. Y. Commercial, Aug. 26.

Post image for “Danger here; men killed and an enemy coming or near Cheat River.”—Rutherford B. Hayes

“Danger here; men killed and an enemy coming or near Cheat River.”—Rutherford B. Hayes

August 24, 2011

Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes,The American Civil War

Saturday 24.—Doctor and I laughed at a soldier who said it was Saturday. We thought it was Thursday. The finest day’s march yet. Streams, mountain views, and invigorating air! Reached Buckhannon [Beverly] at 2 P. M.; greeted by friends in the Guthries warmly—Captain Erwin, Captain Bense, Captains Tinker, Clark. Saw Tatem, sick, Charles Richards, Tom Royse, and others. Danger here; men killed and an enemy coming or near Cheat River. Ambulance guide and men of “Guthries” killed. We camped on a pretty spot. Captain McMullen’s howitzers and one-half of McCook’s regiment with us on the march. Ours the only band here.

_______

BEVERLY, VIRGINIA, August, Saturday, 24 or 23, 1861.

DEAREST:—Your letters are all directed right—to Clarksburg, Virginia—got one from you, one from Uncle and one from Mother with a nice Testament today.

We marched from Buckhannon as I wrote you; but the rain stopped, the air was delicious, the mountain scenery beautiful. We camped at night in the hills without tents. I looked up at the stars and moon—nothing between me and sky—and thought of you all. Today had a lovely march in the mountains, was at the camp of the enemy on Rich Mountain and on the battlefield. Reached here today. Saw Captain Erwin and friends enough. It is pleasant. We had one-half of our regiment, one-half of McCook’s German regiment and McMullen’s Field Battery. Joe and I led the column. The Guthrie Greys greeted us hospitably. Men are needed here, and we were met by men who were very glad to see us for many reasons. We go to the seat of things in Cheat Mountain perhaps tomorrow.

I love you so much. Write about the dear boys and your kindred—that’s enough. Your letter about them is so good.

Affectionately,

[R.]

P.S.—My favorite horse has come out fine again (Webby first, I mean) and Webby second is coming out. Joe and I vote these two days the happiest of the war. Such air and streams and mountains and people glad to see us.

MRS. HAYES.

_______

BEVERLY, VIRGINIA, August 24, 1861.

DEAR UNCLE:—Thank you for the postage stamps. The traitors at home, you need not fear. . . We are needed here. Shall march towards the enemy tomorrow again. I am better pleased with this than with the main army at Washington. . . .

Affectionately,

R. B. HAYES.

S. BIRCHARD.

_______

BEVERLY, August 24, 1861.

DEAR MOTHER:—Fifty miles further in the mountains. Most lovely streams and mountains. My tent now looks out on a finer scene than any yet. Thank you for the Testament. I see war enough. I prefer to read something else. We expect to move on soon. We are at the jumping-off place. You will not hear often now.

Affectionately,

R. B. HAYES.

MRS. SOPHIA HAYES.

Post image for William Howard Russell’s Diary: Punishment for killing a black boy.—Washington navy yard.

William Howard Russell’s Diary: Punishment for killing a black boy.—Washington navy yard.

August 24, 2011

My Diary North and South - William Howard Russell,The American Civil War

Note: This particular diary entry—a document written in 1861—includes terms and topics that may be offensive to many today.  No attempt will be made to censor or edit 19th century material to today’s standards.

August 24th.—My servant came in this morning, to announce a trifling accident—he was exercising my horse, and at the corner of one of those charming street crossings, the animal fell and broke its leg. A “vet” was sent for. I was sure that such a portent had never been born in those Daunian woods. A man about twenty-seven or twenty-eight stone weight, middle-aged and active, with a fine professional feeling for distressed horse-flesh; and I was right in my conjectures that he was a Briton, though the vet had become Americanised, and was full of enthusiasm about “our war for the Union,” which was yielding him a fine harvest. He complained there were a good many bad characters about Washington. The matter is proved beyond doubt by what we see, hear, and read. To-day there is an account in the papers of a brute shooting a negro boy dead, because he asked him for a chew of tobacco. Will he be hanged? Not the smallest chance of it. The idea of hanging a white man for killing a nigger! It is more preposterous here than it is in India, where our authorities have actually executed whites for the murder of natives.

Before dinner I walked down to the Washington navy yard. Captain Dahlgren was sorely perplexed with an intoxicated Senator, whose name it is not necessary to mention, and who seemed to think he paid me a great compliment by expressing his repeated desire “to have a good look at” me. “I guess you’re quite notorious now. You’ll excuse me because I’ve dined, now—and so you are the Mr. &c, &c, &c.” The Senator informed me that he was “none of your d___d blackfaced republicans. He didn’t care a d___ about niggers—his business was to do good to his fellow white men, to hold our glorious Union together, and let the niggers take care of themselves.”

I was glad when a diversion was effected by the arrival of Mr. Fox, Assistant-Secretary of the Navy, and Mr. Blair, Postmaster-General, to consult with the Captain, who is greatly looked up to by all the members of the Cabinet—in fact he is rather inconvenienced by the perpetual visits of the President, who is animated by a most extraordinary curiosity about naval matters and machinery, and is attracted by the novelty of the whole department, so that he is continually running down “to have a talk with Dahlgren” when he is not engaged in “a chat with George.” The Senator opened such a smart fire on the Minister that the latter retired, and I mounted and rode back to town. In the evening Major Clarence Brown, Lieutenant Wise, a lively, pleasant, and amusing little sailor, well-known in the States as the author of ” Los Gringos,” who is now employed in the Navy Department, and a few of the gentlemen connected with the Foreign Legations came in, and we had a great international reunion and discussion till a late hour. There is a good deal of agreeable banter reserved for myself, as to the exact form of death which I am most likely to meet. I was seriously advised by a friend not to stir out unarmed. The great use of a revolver is that it will prevent the indignity of tarring and feathering, now pretty rife, by provoking greater violence. I also received a letter from London, advising me to apply to Lord Lyons for protection, but that could only be extended to me within the walls of the Legation.

Post image for Mary Chesnut’s diary: “A fiasco: an aide engaged to two young ladies in the same house.”

Mary Chesnut’s diary: “A fiasco: an aide engaged to two young ladies in the same house.”

August 24, 2011

A Diary From Dixie by Mary Boykin Miller Chesnut.,The American Civil War

August 24th.—Daniel, of The Examiner, was at the President’s. Wilmot de Saussure wondered if a fellow did not feel a little queer, paying his respects in person at the house of a man whom he abused daily in his newspaper.

A fiasco: an aide engaged to two young ladies in the same house. The ladies had been quarreling, but became friends unexpectedly when his treachery, among many other secrets, was revealed under that august roof. Fancy the row when it all came out.

Mr. Lowndes said we have already reaped one good result from the war. The orators, the spouters, the furious patriots, that could hardly be held down, and who were so wordily anxious to do or die for their country—they had been the pest of our lives. Now they either have not tried the battleield at all, or have precipitately left it at their earliest convenience: for very shame we are rid of them for a while. I doubt it. Bright’s speech¹ is dead against us. Reading this does not brighten one.

______

¹ The reference is to John Bright, whose advocacy of the cause of the Union in the British Parliament attracted a great deal of attention At the time.

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