Three Months in the Southern States–Lieut. Col. Fremantle, Coldstream Guards

4th June (Thursday).—Colonel Richmond rode with me to the outposts, in order to be present at the reconnaissance which was being conducted under the command of General Cheetham. We reached the field of operations at 2 P.m., and found that Martin’s cavalry (dismounted) had advanced upon the enemy about three miles, and, after some brisk skirmishing, had driven in his outposts. The enemy showed about 2000 infantry, strongly posted, his guns commanding the turnpike road. The Confederate infantry was concealed in the woods, about a mile in rear of the dismounted cavalry.

This being the position of affairs, Colonel Richmond and I rode along the road so far as it was safe to do so. We then dismounted, and sneaked on in the wood alongside the road until we got to within 800 yards of the Yankees, whom we then reconnoitred leisurely with our glasses. We could only count about seventy infantry soldiers, with one field-piece in the wood at an angle of the road, and we saw several staff officers galloping about with orders. Whilst we were thus engaged, some heavy firing and loud cheering suddenly commenced in the woods on our left; so, fearing to be outflanked, we remounted and rode back to an open space, about 600 yards to the rear, where we found General Martin giving orders for the withdrawal of the cavalry horses in the front, and the retreat of the skirmishers.

It was very curious to-see three hundred horses suddenly emerge from the wood just in front of us, where they had been hidden—one man to every four horses, riding one and leading the other three, which were tied together by the heads. In this order I saw them cross a cotton-field at a smart trot, and take up a more secure position; two or three men cantered about in the rear, flanking up the led horses. They were shortly afterwards followed by the men of the regiment, retreating in skirmishing order under Colonel Webb, and they lined a fence parallel to us. The same thing went on on our right.

As the firing on our left still continued, my friends were in great hopes that the Yankees might be inveigled on to follow the retreating skirmishers until they fell in with the two infantry brigades, which were lying in ambush for them; and it was arranged, in that case, that some mounted Confederates should then get in their rear, and so capture a good number; but this simple and ingenious device was frustrated by the sulkiness of the enemy, who now stubbornly refused to advance any further.

The way in which the horses were managed was very pretty, and seemed to answer admirably for this sort of skirmishing. They were never far from the men, who could mount and be off to another part of the field with rapidity, or retire to take up another position, or act as cavalry as the case might require. Both the superior officers and the men behaved with the most complete coolness; and, whilst we were waiting in hopes of a Yankee advance, I heard the soldiers remarking that they “didn’t like being done out of their good boots”—one of the principal objects in killing a Yankee being apparently to get hold of his valuable boots.

A tremendous row went on in the woods during this bushwhacking, and the trees got knocked about in all directions by shell; but I imagine that the actual slaughter in these skirmishes is very small, unless they get fairly at one another in the open cultivated spaces between the woods. I did not see or hear of anybody being killed to-day, although there were a few wounded and some horses killed. Colonel Richmond and Colonel Webb were much disappointed that the inactivity of the enemy prevented my seeing the skirmish assume larger proportions, and General Cheetham said to me, “We should be very happy to see you, Colonel, when we are in our regular way of doing business.”

After waiting in vain until 5 P.m., and seeing no signs of anything more taking place, Colonel Richmond and I cantered back to Shelbyville. We were accompanied by a detachment of General Polk’s body-guard, which was composed of young men of good position in New Orleans. Most of them spoke in the French language, and nearly all had slaves in the field with them, although they ranked only as private soldiers, and had to perform the onerous duties of orderlies (or couriers, as they are called). On our way back we heard heavy firing on our left, from the direction in which General Withers was conducting his share of the reconnaissance with two other infantry brigades.

After dark General Polk got a message from Cheetham, to say that the enemy had after all advanced in heavy force about 6.15 P.M., and obliged him to retire to Guy’s Gap. We also heard that General Cleburne, who had advanced from Wartrace, had had his horse shot under him. The object of the reconnaissance seemed, therefore, to have been attained, for apparently the enemy was still in strong force at Murfreesborough, and manifested no intention of yielding it without a struggle.

I took leave of General Polk before I turned in. His kindness and hospitality have exceeded anything I could have expected. I shall always feel grateful to him on this account, and I shall never think of him without admiration for his character as a sincere patriot, a gallant soldier, and a perfect gentleman. His aides-de-camp, Colonels Richmond and Yeatman, are also excellent types of the higher class of Southerner. Highly educated, wealthy, and prosperous before the war, they have abandoned all for their country. They, and all other Southern gentlemen of the same rank, are proud of their descent from Englishmen. They glory in speaking English as we do, and that their manners and feelings resemble those of the upper classes in the old country. No staff-officers could perform their duties with more zeal and efficiency than these gentlemen, although they were not educated as soldiers.

3d June (Wednesday). — Bishop Elliott left for Savannah at 6 A.M., in a downpour of rain, which continued nearly all day. Grenfell came to see me this morning in a towering rage. He had been arrested in his bed by the civil power on a charge of horse-stealing, and conniving at the escape of a negro from his master. General Bragg himself had stood bail for him, but Grenfell was naturally furious at the indignity. But, even according to his own account, he seems to have acted indiscreetly in the affair of the negro, and he will have to appear before the civil court next October. General Polk and his officers were all much vexed at the occurrence, which, however, is an extraordinary and convincing proof that the military had not superseded the civil power in the Southern States; for here was an important officer arrested, in spite of the commander-in-chief, when in the execution of his office before the enemy. By standing bail, General Bragg gave a most positive proof that he exonerated Grenfell from any malpractices.[1]

In the evening, after dark, General Polk drew my attention to the manner in which the signal beacons were worked. One light was stationary on the ground, whilst another was moved backwards and forwards over it. They gave us intelligence that General Hardee had pushed the enemy to within five miles of Murfreesborough, after heavy skirmishing all day.

I got out of General Polk the story of his celebrated adventure with the —— Indiana (Northern) regiment, which resulted in the almost total destruction of that corps. I had often during my travels heard officers and soldiers talking of this extraordinary feat of the “Bishop’s.” The modest yet graphic manner in which General Polk related this wonderful instance of coolness and bravery was extremely interesting, and I now repeat it, as nearly as I can, in his own words.

“Well, sir, it was at the battle of Perryville, late in the evening—in fact, it was almost dark when Liddell’s Brigade came into action. Shortly after its arrival I observed a body of men, whom I believed to be Confederates, standing at an angle to this brigade, and firing obliquely at the newly arrived troops. I said, ‘Dear me, this is very sad, and must be stopped;’ so I turned round, but could find none of my young men, who were absent on different messages; so I determined to ride myself and settle the matter. Having cantered up to the colonel of the regiment which was firing, I asked him in angry tones what he meant by shooting his own friends, and I desired him to cease doing so at once. He answered with surprise, ‘I don’t think there can be any mistake about it; I am sure they are the enemy.’ ‘Enemy!’ I said; ‘why, I have only just left them myself. Cease firing, sir; what is your name, sir?’ ‘My name is Colonel ——, of the ——Indiana; and pray, sir, who are you?’

“Then for the first time I saw, to my astonishment, that he was a Yankee, and that I was in rear of a regiment of Yankees. Well, I saw that there was no hope but to brazen it out; my dark blouse and the increasing obscurity befriended me, so I approached quite close to him and shook my fist in his face, saying, ‘I’ll soon show you who I am, sir; cease firing, sir, at once.’ I then turned my horse and cantered slowly down the line, shouting in an authoritative manner to the Yankees to cease firing; at the same time I experienced a disagreeable sensation, like screwing up my back, and calculating how many bullets would be between my shoulders every moment. I was afraid to increase my pace until I got to a small copse, when I put the spurs in and galloped back to my men. I immediately went up to the nearest colonel, and said to him, ‘Colonel, I have reconnoitred those fellows pretty closely—and I find there is no mistake who they are; you may get up and go at them.’ And I assure you, sir, that the slaughter of that Indiana regiment was the greatest I have ever seen in the war.”[3]

It is evident to me that a certain degree of jealous feeling exists between the Tennesseean and Virginian armies. This one claims to have had harder fighting than the Virginian army, and to have been opposed to the best troops and best generals of the North.

The Southerners generally appear to estimate highest the north-western Federal troops, which compose in a great degree the armies of Grant and Rosecrans; they come from the states of Ohio, Iowa, Indiana, &c. The Irish Federals are also respected for their fighting qualities; whilst the genuine Yankees and Germans (Dutch) are not much esteemed.

I have been agreeably disappointed in the climate of Tennessee, which appears quite temperate to what I had expected.

[1] I cut this out of a Charleston paper some days after I had parted from Colonel Grenfell: Colonel Grenfell was only obeying General Bragg’s orders in depriving the soldier of his horse, and temporarily of his money:—

“Colonel St Leger Grenfell.—The Western army correspondent of the ‘Mobile Register’ writes as follows :—The famous Colonel St Leger Grenfell, who served with Morgan last summer, and since that time has been Assistant Inspector-General of General Bragg, was arrested a few days since by the civil authorities. The sheriff and his officers called upon the bold Englishman before he had arisen in the morning, and after the latter had performed his toilet duties he buckled on his belt and trusty pistols. The officer of the law remonstrated, and the Englisher damned, and a struggle of half an hour ensued, in which the stout Britisher made a powerful resistance, but, by overpowering force, was at last placed hors de combat and disarmed.[2] The charges were, that he retained in his possession the slave of a Confederate citizen, and refused to deliver him or her up; that meeting a soldier coming to the army leading a horse, he accused him of being a deserter, dismounted him, took his horses and equipments and money, stating that deserters were not worthy to have either horses or money, and sent the owner thereof off where he would not be heard of again. The result of the affair was, that Colonel Grenfell, whether guilty or not guilty, delivered up the negro, horses, and money to the civil authorities. If the charges against him are proven true, then there is no doubt that the course of General Bragg will be to dismiss him from his staff; but if, on the contrary, malicious slanders are defaming this ally, he is Hercules enough and brave enough to punish them. His bravery and gallantry were conspicuous throughout the Kentucky campaign, and it is hoped that this late tarnish on his fame will be removed; or if it be not, that he will.”

[2] This is all nonsense—the myrmidons of the law took very good care to pounce upon Colonel Grenfell when he was in bed and asleep.

[3] If these lines should ever meet the eyes of General Polk, I hope he will forgive me if I have made any error in recording his adventure.

2d June (Tuesday).—Colonel Grenfell and I rode to the outposts, starting on the road to Murfreesborough at 6 A.M. It rained hard nearly all day. He explained to me the method of fighting adopted by the Western cavalry, which he said was admirably adapted for this country; but he denied that they could, under any circumstances, stand a fair charge of regular cavalry in the open. Their system is to dismount and leave their horses in some secure place. One man is placed in charge of his own and three other horses, whilst the remainder act as infantry skirmishers in the dense woods and broken country, making a tremendous row, and deceiving the enemy as to their numbers, and as to their character as infantry or cavalry. In this manner Morgan, assisted by two small guns, called bull-dogs, attacked the Yankees with success in towns, forts, stockades, and steamboats; and by the same system, Wheeler and Wharton kept a large pursuing army in check for twenty-seven days, retreating and fighting every day, and deluding the enemy with the idea that they were being resisted by a strong force composed of all three branches of the service.

Colonel Grenfell told me that the only way in which an officer could acquire influence over the Confederate soldiers was by his personal conduct under fire. They hold a man in great esteem who in action sets them an example of contempt for danger; but they think nothing of an officer who is not in the habit of leading them; in fact, such a man could not possibly retain his position. Colonel Grenfell’s expression was, “Every atom of authority has to be purchased by a drop of your blood.” He told me he was in desperate hot water with the civil authorities of the State, who accuse him of illegally impressing and appropriating horses, and also of conniving at the escape of a negro from his lawful owner, and he said that the military authorities were afraid or unable to give him proper protection.

For the first nine miles our road was quite straight and hilly, with a thick wood on either side. We then reached a pass in the hills called Guy’s Gap, which, from the position of the hills, is very strong, and could be held by a small force. The range of hills extends as far as Wartrace, but I understand the position could be turned on the left. About two miles beyond Guy’s Gap were the headquarters of General Martin, the officer who commands the brigade of cavalry stationed in the neighbourhood. General Martin showed me the letter sent by the Yankees a few days ago by flag of truce with Mr Vallandigham. This letter was curiously worded, and ended, as far as I can remember, with this expression: “Mr Vallandigham is therefore handed over to the respectful attention of the Confederate authorities.” General Martin told me that skirmishing and bushwhacking went on nearly every day, and that ten days ago the enemy’s cavalry by a bold dash had captured a field-piece close to his own quarters. It was, however, retaken, and its captors were killed.

One of General Martin’s staff officers conducted us to the bivouac of Colonel Webb (three miles further along the road), who commanded the regiment on outpost duty there—51st Alabama Cavalry. This Colonel Webb was a lawyer by profession, and seemed a capital fellow; and he insisted on riding with us to the videttes in spite of the rain, and he also desired his regiment to turn out for us by the time we returned. The extreme outposts were about two miles beyond Colonel Webb’s post, and about sixteen miles from Shelbyville. The neutral ground extended for about three miles. We rode along it as far as it was safe to do so, and just came within sight of the Yankee videttes. The Confederate videttes were at an interval of from 300 to 400 yards of each other. Colonel Webb’s regiment was in charge of two miles of the front; and, in a similar manner, the chain of videttes was extended by other corps right and left for more than eighty miles. Scouts are continually sent forward by both sides to collect information. Rival scouts and pickets invariably fire on one another whenever they meet; and Colonel Webb good-naturedly offered, if I was particularly anxious to see their customs and habits, to send forward a few men and have a little fight. I thanked him much for his kind offer, but begged he wouldn’t trouble himself so far on my account. He showed me the house where Vallandigham had been “dumped down” between the outposts when they refused to receive him by flag of truce.

The woods on both sides of the road showed many signs of the conflicts which are of daily occurrence. Most of the houses by the roadside had been destroyed; but one plucky old lady had steadfastly refused to turn out, although her house was constantly an object of contention, and showed many marks of bullets and shell. Ninety-seven men were employed every day in Colonel Webb’s regiment to patrol the front. The remainder of the 51st Alabama were mounted and drawn up to receive Colonel Grenfell on our return from the outposts. They were uniformly armed with long rifles and revolvers, but without sabres, and they were a fine body of young men. Their horses were in much better condition than might have been expected, considering the scanty food and hard duty they had had to put up with for the last five months, without shelter of any kind, except the trees. Colonel Grenfell told me they were a very fair specimen of the immense number of cavalry with Bragg’s army. I got back to Shelbyville at 4.30 P.m., just in time to be present at an interesting ceremony peculiar to America. This was a baptism at the Episcopal Church. The ceremony was performed in an impressive manner by Bishop Elliott, and the person baptised was no less than the commander-in-chief of the army. The Bishop took the general’s hand in his own (the latter kneeling in front of the font), and said, “Braxton, if thou hast not already been baptised, I baptise thee,” &c. Immediately afterwards he confirmed General Bragg, who then shook hands with General Polk, the officers of their respective staffs, and myself, who were the only spectators.

The soldiers on sentry at General Polk’s quarters this afternoon were deficient both of shoes and stockings. These were the first barefooted soldiers I had as yet seen in the Confederacy.

I had intended to have left Shelbyville to-morrow with Bishop Elliott; but as I was informed that a reconnaissance in force was arranged for to-morrow, I accepted General Polk’s kind offer of farther hospitality for a couple of days more. Four of Polk’s brigades with artillery move to the front to-morrow, and General Hardee is also to push forward from Wartrace. The object of this movement is to ascertain the enemy’s strength at Murfreesborough, as rumour asserts that Rosecrans is strengthening Grant in Mississippi, which General Bragg is not disposed to allow with impunity. The weather is now almost chilly.

1st June (Monday).—We all went to a review of General Liddell’s brigade at Bellbuckle, a distance of six miles. There were three carriages full of ladies, and I rode an excellent horse, the gift of General John Morgan to General Hardee. The weather and the scenery were delightful. General Hardee asked me particularly whether Mr Mason had been kindly received in England. I replied that I thought he had, by private individuals. I have often found the Southerners rather touchy on this point.

General Liddell’s brigade was composed of Arkansas troops—five very weak regiments which had suffered severely in the different battles, and they cannot be easily recruited on account of the blockade of the Mississippi. The men were good-sized, healthy, and well clothed, but without any attempt at uniformity in colour or cut; but nearly all were dressed either in grey or brown coats and felt hats. I was told that even if a regiment was clothed in proper uniform by the Government, it would become parti-coloured again in a week, as the soldiers preferred wearing the coarse homespun jackets and trousers made by their mothers and sisters at home. The Generals very wisely allow them to please themselves in this respect, and insist only upon their arms and accoutrements being kept in proper order. Most of the officers were dressed in uniform which is neat and serviceable—viz., a bluish-grey frock-coat of a colour similar to Austrian yagers. The infantry wear blue facings, the artillery red, the doctors black, the staff white, and the cavalry yellow; so it is impossible to mistake the branch of the service to which an officer belongs—nor is it possible to mistake his rank. A second lieutenant, first lieutenant, and captain, wear respectively one, two, and three bars on the collar. A major, lieutenant-colonel, and colonel, wear one, two, and three stars on the collar.

Before the marching past of the brigade, many of the soldiers had taken off their coats and marched past the General in their shirt-sleeves, on account of the warmth. Most of them were armed with Enfield rifles captured from the enemy. Many, however, had lost or thrown away their bayonets, which they don’t appear to value properly, as they assert that they have never met any Yankees who would wait for that weapon. I expressed a desire to see them form square, but it appeared they were “not drilled to such a manœuvre” (except square two deep). They said the country did not admit of cavalry charges, even if the Yankee cavalry had stomach to attempt it.

Each regiment carried a “battle-flag,” blue, with a white border, on which were inscribed the names “Belmont,” “Shiloh,” “Perryville,” “Richmond, Ky,” and “Murfreesborough.” They drilled tolerably well, and an advance in line was remarkably good; but General Liddell had invented several dodges of his own, for which he was reproved by General Hardee.

The review being over, the troops were harangued by Bishop Elliott in an excellent address, partly religious, partly patriotic. He was followed by a congress man of vulgar appearance, named Hanley, from Arkansas, who delivered himself of a long and uninteresting political oration, and ended by announcing himself as a candidate for re-election. This speech seemed to me (and to others) particularly ill-timed, out of place, and ridiculous, addressed as it was to soldiers in front of the enemy. But this was one of the results of universal suffrage. The soldiers afterwards wanted General Hardee to say something, but he declined. I imagine that the discipline in this army is the strictest in the Confederacy, and that the men are much better marchers than those I saw in Mississippi.

A soldier was shot in Wartrace this afternoon. We heard the volley just as we left in the cars for Shelbyville. His crime was desertion to the enemy; and as the prisoner’s brigade was at Tullahoma (twenty miles off), he was executed without ceremony by the Provost guard. Spies are hung every now and then; but General Bragg told me it was almost impossible for either side to stop the practice.

Bishop Elliott, Dr Quintard, and myself got back to General Polk’s quarters at 5 P.M., where I was introduced to a Colonel Styles, who was formerly United States minister at Vienna. In the evening I made the acquaintance of General Wheeler, Van Dorn’s successor in the command of the cavalry of this army, which is over 24,000 strong. He is a very little man, only twenty-six years of age, and was dressed in a coat much too big for him. He made his reputation by protecting the retreat of the army through Kentucky last year. He was a graduate of West Point, and seems a remarkably zealous officer, besides being very modest and unassuming in his manners.

General Polk told me that, notwithstanding the departure of Breckenridge,this army is now much stronger than it was at the time of the battle of Murfreesborough. I think that probably 45,000 infantry and artillery could be brought together immediately for a battle.

31st May (Sunday).—The Bishop of Georgia preached to-day to a very large congregation in the Presbyterian church. He is a most eloquent preacher; and he afterwards confirmed about twenty people,—amongst others, Colonel Gale (over forty years old), and young Polk. After church, I called again on General Bragg, who talked to me a long time about the battle of Murfreesborough (in which he commanded). He said that he retained possession of the ground he had won for three days and a half, and only retired on account of the exhaustion of his troops, and after carrying off over 6000 prisoners, much cannon, and other trophies. He allowed that Rosecrans had displayed much firmness, and was “the only man in the Yankee army who was not badly beaten.” He showed me, on a plan, the exact position of the two armies, and also the field of operations of the renowned guerillas, Morgan and Forrest.

Colonel Grenfell called again, and I arranged to visit the outposts with him on Tuesday. He spoke to me in high terms of Bragg, Polk, Hardee, and Cleburne; but he described some of the others as “political” generals, and others as good fighters, but illiterate and somewhat addicted to liquor. He deplored the effect of politics upon military affairs as very injurious in the Confederate army, though not so bad as it is in the Northern.

At 2 P.M. I travelled in the cars to Wartrace in company with General Bragg and the Bishop of Georgia. We were put into a baggage-car, and the General and the Bishop were the only persons provided with seats. Although the distance from Shelbyville to Wartrace is only eight miles, we were one hour and ten minutes in effecting the trajet, in such a miserable and dangerous state were the rails. On arriving at Wartrace we were entertained by Major-General Cleburne. This officer gave me his history. He is the son of a doctor at or near Ballincolig. At the age of seventeen he ran away from home, and enlisted in Her Majesty’s 41st Eegiment of foot, in which he served three years as private and corporal. He then bought his discharge, and emigrated to Arkansas, where he studied law, and, eschewing politics, he got a good practice as a lawyer. At the outbreak of the war he was elected captain of his company, then colonel of his regiment, and has since, by his distinguished services in all the western campaigns, been appointed to the command of a division (10,000 men)—the highest military rank which has been attained by a foreigner in the Confederate service. He told me that he ascribed his advancement mainly to the useful lessons which he had learnt in the ranks of the British army, and he pointed with a laugh to his general’s white facings, which he said his 41st experience enabled him to keep cleaner than any other Confederate general.*[1] He is now thirty-five years of age; but, his hair having turned grey, he looks older. Generals Bragg and Hardee both spoke to me of him in terms of the highest praise, and said that he had risen entirely by his own personal merit.

At 5 P.M. I was present at a great open-air preaching at General Wood’s camp. Bishop Elliott preached most admirably to a congregation composed of nearly 3000 soldiers, who listened to him with the most profound attention. Generals Bragg, Polk, Hardee, Withers, Cleburne, and endless brigadiers, were also present. It is impossible to exaggerate the respect paid by all ranks of this army to Bishop Elliott; and although most of the officers are Episcopalians, the majority of the soldiers are Methodists, Baptists, &c. Bishop Elliott afterwards explained to me that the reason most of the people had become dissenters was because there had been no bishops in America during the “British dominion;” and all the clergy having been appointed from England, had almost without exception stuck by the King in the Revolution, and had had their livings forfeited.

I dined and slept at General Hardee’s, but spent the evening at Mrs ——’s, where I heard renewed philippics directed by the ladies against the Yankees.

I find that it is a great mistake to suppose that the Press is gagged in the South, as I constantly see the most violent attacks upon the President—upon the different generals and their measures. To-day I heard the officers complaining bitterly of the ‘Chattanooga Rebel,’ for publishing an account of Breckenridge’s departure from this army to reinforce Johnston in Mississippi, and thus giving early intelligence to the enemy.

[1] The 41st Regiment wears white facings ; so do the generals in the Confederate army. M. de Polignac has recently been appointed a brigadier: he and Cleburne are the only two generals amongst the Confederates who are foreigners.

30th May (Saturday).—It rained hard all last night, but General Polk’s tent proved itself a good one. We have prayers both morning and evening, by Dr Quintard, together with singing, in which General Polk joins with much zeal. Colonel Gale, who is son-in-law and volunteer aide-de-camp to General Polk, has placed his negro Aaron and a mare at my disposal during my stay.

General Polk explained to me, from a plan, the battle of Murfreesborough. He claimed that the Confederates had only 30,000 troops, including Breckenridge’s division, which was not engaged on the first day. He put the Confederate loss at 10,000 men, and that of the Yankees at 19,000. With regard to the battle of Shiloh, [1] he said that Beauregard’s order to retire was most unfortunate, as the gunboats were doing no real harm, and if they (the Confederates) had held on, nothing could have saved the Federals from capture or destruction. The misfortune of Albert Johnston’s death, together with the fact of Beauregard’s illness and his not being present at that particular spot, were the causes of this battle not being a more complete victory. Ever since I landed in America, I had heard of the exploits of an Englishman called Colonel, who is now Inspector-General of Cavalry to Bragg’s army. This afternoon I made his acquaintance, and I consider him one of the most extraordinary characters I ever met. Although he is a member of a well-known English family, he seems to have devoted his whole life to the exciting career of a soldier of fortune. He told me that in early life he had served three years in a French lancer regiment, and had risen from a private to be a sous-lieutenant. He afterwards became a sort of consular agent at Tangier, under old Mr Drummond Hay. Having acquired a perfect knowledge of Arabic, he entered the service of Abd-el-Kader, and under that renowned chief he fought the French for four years and a half. At another time of his life he fitted out a yacht, and carried on a private war with the ERiff pirates. He was brigade-major in the Turkish contingent during the Crimean war, and had some employment in the Indian mutiny. He has also been engaged in war in Buenos Ayres and the South American republics. At an early period of the present troubles he ran the blockade and joined the Confederates. He was adjutant-general and right-hand man to the celebrated John Morgan for eight months. Even in this army, which abounds with foolhardy and desperate characters, he has acquired the admiration of all ranks by his reckless daring and gallantry in the field. Both Generals Polk and Bragg spoke to me of him as a most excellent and useful officer, besides being a man who never lost an opportunity of trying to throw his life away. He is just the sort of man to succeed in this army, and among the soldiers his fame for bravery has outweighed his unpopularity as a rigid disciplinarian. He is the terror of all absentees, stragglers, and deserters, and of all commanding officers who are unable to produce for his inspection the number of horses they have been drawing forage for. He looks about forty-five, but in reality he is fifty-six. He is rather tall, thin, very wiry and active, with a jovial English expression of countenance ; but his eyes have a wild, roving look, which is common amongst the Arabs. When he came to me he was dressed in an English staff blue coat, and he had a red cavalry forage-cap, which latter, General Polk told me, he always wore in action, so making himself more conspicuous. He talked to me much about John Morgan, whose marriage he had tried to avert, and of which he spoke with much sorrow. He declared that Morgan was enervated by matrimony, and would never be the same man as he was. He said that in one of the celebrated telegraph tappings in Kentucky, Morgan, the operator, and himself, were seated for twelve hours on a clay-bank during a violent storm, but the interest was so intense, that the time passed like three hours[2] General Polk’s son, a young artillery lieutenant, told me this evening that “Stonewall Jackson” was a professor at the military school at Lexington, in which he was a cadet. “Old Jack” was considered a persevering but rather dull master, and was often made a butt of by cheeky cadets, whose great ambition it was to irritate him, but, however insolent they were, he never took the slightest notice of their impertinence at the time, although he always had them punished for it afterwards. At the outbreak of the war, he was called upon by the cadets to make a speech, and these were his words: ‘Soldiers make short speeches: be slow to draw the sword in civil strife, but when you draw it, throw away the scabbard.” Young Polk says that the enthusiasm created by this speech of old Jack’s was beyond description.

[1] Called Pittsburg Landing and Corinth.

[2] This was the occasion, when they telegraphed such a quantity of nonsense to the Yankee general, receiving valuable information in return, and such necessary stores by train as Morgan was in need of.

29th May (Friday).—I took a walk before breakfast with Dr Quintard, a zealous Episcopal chaplain, who began life as a surgeon, which enables him to attend to the bodily as well as the spiritual wants of the Tennessean regiment to which he is chaplain. The enemy is about fifteen miles distant, and all the tops of the intervening hills are occupied as signal stations, which communicate his movements by flags in the daytime, and by beacons at night. A signal corps has been organised for this service. The system is most ingenious, and answers admirably. We all breakfasted at Mrs ——’s. The ladies were more excited even than yesterday in their diatribes against the Yankees. They insisted on cutting the accompanying paragraph out of to-day’s newspaper, which they declared was a very fair exposition of the average treatment they received from the enemy.[1] They reproved Mrs —— for having given assistance to the wounded Yankees at Wartrace last year; and a sister of Mrs ——’s, who is a very strong-minded lady, gave me a most amusing description of an interview she had had at Huntsville with the astronomer Mitchell, in his capacity of a Yankee general. It has often been remarked to me that, when this war is over, the independence of the country will be due, in a great measure, to the women; for they declare that had the women been desponding they could never have gone through with it; but, on the contrary, the women have invariably set an example to the men of patience, devotion, and determination. Naturally proud, and with an innate contempt for the Yankees, the Southern women have been rendered furious and desperate by the proceedings of Butler, Milroy, Turchin, &c. They are all prepared to undergo any hardships and misfortunes rather than submit to the rule of such people; and they use every argument which women can employ to infuse the same spirit into their male relations.

At noon I took leave for the present of General Hardee, and drove over in his ambulance to Shelbyville, eight miles, in company with Bishop Elliott and Dr Quintard. The road was abominable, and it was pouring with rain. On arriving at General Polk’s, he invited me to take up my quarters with him during my stay with Bragg’s army, which offer I accepted with gratitude. After dinner General Polk told me that he hoped his brethren in England did not very much condemn his present line of conduct. He explained to me the reasons which had induced him temporarily to forsake the cassock and return to his old profession. He stated the extreme reluctance he had felt in taking this step; and he said that so soon as the war was over, he should return to his episcopal avocations, in the same way as a man, finding his house on fire, would use every means in his power to extinguish the flames, and would then resume his ordinary pursuits. He commanded the Confederate forces at the battle of Perryville and Belmont, as well as his present corps d’armée at the battles of Shiloh (Corinth) and Murfreesborough. At 6.30 P.M., I called on General Bragg, the Commander-in-chief. This officer is in appearance the least prepossessing of the Confederate generals. He is very thin; he stoops, and has a sickly, cadaverous, haggard appearance, rather plain features, bushy black eyebrows which unite in a tuft on the top of his nose, and a stubby iron-grey beard; but his eyes are bright and piercing. He has the reputation of being a rigid disciplinarian, and of shooting freely for insubordination. I understand he is rather unpopular on this account, and also by reason of his occasional acerbity of manner. He was extremely civil to me, and gave me permission to visit the outposts, or any part of his army. He also promised to help me towards joining Morgan in Kentucky, and he expressed his regret that a boil on his hand would prevent him from accompanying me to the outposts. He told me that Rosecrans’s position extended about forty miles, Murfreesborough (twenty-five miles distant) being his headquarters. The Confederate cavalry enclosed him in a semicircle extending over a hundred miles of country. He told me that West Tennessee, occupied by the Federals, was devoted to the Confederate cause, whilst East Tennessee, now in possession of the Confederates, contained numbers of people of Unionist proclivities. This very place, Shelbyville, had been described to me by others as a “Union hole.” After my interview with General Bragg, I took a ride along the Murfreesborough road with Colonel Richmond, A.D.C. to General Polk. About two miles from Shelbyville, we passed some lines made to defend the position. The trench itself was a very mild affair, but the higher ground could be occupied by artillery in such a manner as to make the road impassable. The thick woods were being cut down in front of the lines for a distance of eight hundred yards, to give range. During our ride I met Major-General Cheetham, a stout, rather rough-looking man, but with the reputation of “a great fighter.” It is said that he does all the necessary swearing in the 1st corps d’arméa, which General Polk’s clerical character incapacitates him from performing. Colonel Richmond gave me the particulars of General Van Dorn’s death, which occurred about forty miles from this. His loss does not seem to be much regretted, as it appears he was always ready to neglect his military duties for an assignation. In the South it is not considered necessary to put yourself on an equality with a man in such a case as Van Dorn’s by calling him out. His life belongs to the aggrieved husband, and “shooting down” is universally esteemed the correct thing, even if it takes place after a lapse of time, as in the affair between General Van Dorn and Dr Peters.

News arrived this evening of the capture of Helena by the Confederates, and of the hanging of a negro regiment with forty Yankee officers. Every one expressed sorrow for the blacks, but applauded the destruction of their officers.[2]

I slept in General Polk’s tent, he occupying a room in the house adjoining. Before going to bed, General Polk told me an affecting story of a poor widow in humble circumstances, whose three sons had fallen in battle one after the other, until she had only one left, a boy of sixteen. So distressing was her case that General Polk went himself to comfort her. She looked steadily at him, and replied to his condolences by the sentence, “As soon as I can get a few things together, General, you shall have Harry too.” The tears came into General Polk’s eyes as he related this episode, which he ended by saying, “How can you subdue such a nation as this!”

[1] ”Losses of William F. Ricks. —The Yankees did not treat us very badly as they returned from pursuing our men beyond Leighton (at least no more than we expected); they broke down our smokehouse door and took seven hams, went into the kitchen and helped themselves to cooking utensils, tin ware, &c.; searched the house, but took nothing. As they passed up the second time we were very much annoyed by them, but not seriously injured; they took the only two mules we had, a cart, our milch cows, and more meat. It was on their return from this trip that our losses were so grievous. They drove their waggons up in our yard and loaded them with the last of our meat, all of our sugar, coffee, molasses, flour, meal, and potatoes. I went to a Lieut.-Colonel who seemed very busy giving orders, and asked him what he expected me to do; they had left me no provisions at all, and I had a large family, and my husband was away from home. His reply was short and pointed—’Starve, and be d—d, madam.’ They then proceeded to the carriage-house, took a fine new buggy that we had never used, the cushions and harness of our carriage, then cut the carriage up and left it. They then sent about sixty of the slyest, smoothest-fingered rogues I have ever seen in the Federal army (all the rogues I ever did see were in that army), into the house to search for whisky and money, while the officers remained in the back-yard trying to hire the servants to tell them where we had money hid. Their search proving fruitless, they loaded themselves with our clothing, bed-clothing, &c.; broke my dishes; stole my knives and forks; refused the keys and broke open my trunks, closets, and other doors. Then came the worst of all—the burners, or, as they call themselves, the ‘Destroying Angels.’ They burned our gin-house and press, with 125 bales of cotton, seven cribs containing 600 bolls of corn, our logs, stables, and six stacks of fodder, a waggon, and four negro cabins, our lumber-room, fine spinning-machine and 500 dollars’ worth of thread, axes, hoes, scythe-blades, and all other plantation implements. Then they came with their torches to burn our house, the last remaining building they had left besides the negro quarter. That was too much; all my pride, and the resolutions that I had made (and until now kept up) to treat them with cool contempt, and never, let the worst come, humble myself to the thievish cutthroats, forsook me at the awful thought of my home in ruins; I must do something, and that quickly;—hardened, thieving villains, as I knew them to be, I would make one effort for the sake of my home. I looked over the crowd, as they huddled together to give orders about the burning, for one face that showed a trace of feeling, or an eye that beamed with a spark of humanity, but, finding none, I approached the nearest group, and pointing to the children (my sister’s), I said, ‘You will not burn the house, will you? you drove those little ones from one home and took possession of it, and this is the only sheltering place they have.’ ‘You may thank your God, madam,’ said one of the ruffians, ‘that we have left you and your d—d brats with heads to be sheltered.’ Just then an officer galloped up — pretended to be very much astonished and terribly beset about the conduct of his men—cursed a good deal, and told a batch of falsehoods about not having given orders to burn anything but corn—made divers threats that were forgotten in utterance, and ordered his ‘Angels’ to fall into line,—thereby winding up the troubles of the darkest day I have ever seen. Mrs Ricks.

” Losses before this last raid: six mules, five horses, one waggon (four-horse), fifty-two negroes.”

[2] This afterwards turned out to be untrue.

28th May (Thursday).—I arrived at Chattanooga (Tennessee) at 4.30 A.M., and fell in with Captain Brown again; his negro recognised me, and immediately rushed up to shake hands.

After breakfasting at Chattanooga, I started again at 7.30, by train, for Shelbyville, General Bragg’s headquarters. This train was crammed to repletion with soldiers rejoining their regiments, so I was constrained to sit in the aisle on the floor of one of the cars. I thought myself lucky even then, for so great was the number of military, that all “citizens” were ordered out to make way for the soldiers; but my grey shooting-jacket and youthful appearance saved me from the imputation of being a “citizen.” Two hours later, the passport officer, seeing who I was, procured me a similar situation in the ladies’ car, where I was a little better off. After leaving Chattanooga the railroad winds alongside of the Tennessee river, the banks of which are high, and beautifully covered with trees— the river itself is wide, and very pretty; but from my position in the tobacco-juice I was unable to do justice to the scenery. I saw stockades at intervals all along the railroad, which were constructed by the Federals, who occupied all this country last year.

On arriving at Wartrace at 4 P.M., I determined to remain there, and ask for hospitality from General Hardee, as I saw no prospect of reaching Shelbyville in decent time. Leaving my baggage with the provost-marshal at Wartrace, I walked on to General Hardee’s headquarters, which were distant about two miles from the railroad . They were situated in a beautiful country, green, undulating, full of magnificent trees, principally beeches, and the scenery was by far the finest I had seen in America as yet.

When I arrived I found that General Hardee was in company with General Polk and Bishop Elliott of Georgia, and also with Mr Vallandigham. The latter (called the Apostle of Liberty) is a good-looking man, apparently not much over forty, and had been turned out of the North three days before. Rosecrans had wished to hand him over to Bragg by flag of truce; but as the latter declined to receive him in that manner, he was, as General Hardee expressed it, “dumped down” in the neutral ground between the lines, and left there. He then received hospitality from the Confederates in the capacity of a destitute stranger. They do not in any way receive him officially, and it does not suit the policy of either party to be identified with one another. He is now living at a private house in Shelbyville, and had come over for the day, with General Polk, on a visit to Hardee. He told the generals, that if Grant was severely beaten in Mississippi by Johnston, he did not think the war could be continued on its present great scale.

When I presented my letters of introduction, General Hardee received me with the unvarying kindness and hospitality which I had experienced from all other Confederate officers. He is a fine soldier-like man, broad-shouldered and tall. He looks rather like a French officer, and is a Georgian by birth. He bears the reputation of, being a thoroughly good soldier, and he is the author of the drill-book still in use by both armies. Until quite lately he was commanding officer of the military college at West Point. He distinguished himself at the battles of Corinth and Murfreesborough, and now commands the 2d corps d’arme’e of Bragg’s army. He is a widower, and has the character of being a great admirer of the fair sex. During the Kentucky campaign last year he was in the habit of availing himself of the privilege of his rank and years, and insisted upon kissing the wives and daughters of all the Kentuckian farmers. And although he is supposed to have converted many of the ladies to the Southern cause, yet in many instances their male relatives remained either neutral or undecided. On one occasion General Hardee had conferred the “accolade” upon a very pretty Kentuckian, to their mutual satisfaction, when, to his intense disgust, the proprietor produced two very ugly old females, saying, “Now, then, general, if you kiss any you must kiss them all round,” which the discomfited general was forced to do, to the great amusement of his officers, who often allude to this contretemps.

Another rebuff which he received, and about which he is often chaffed by General Polk, was when an old lady told him he ought really to “leave off fighting at his age.” “Indeed, madam,” replied Hardee, “and how old do you take me for?” “Why, about the same age as myself—seventy-five.” The chagrin of the stalwart and gallant general, at having twenty years added to his age, may be imagined.

Lieutenant-General Leonidas Polk, Bishop of Louisiana, who commands the other corps d’armee, is a good-looking, gentlemanlike man, with all the manners and affability of a “grand seigneur.” He is fifty-seven years of age—tall, upright, and looks much more the soldier than the clergyman. He is very rich; and I am told he owns seven hundred negroes. He is much beloved by the soldiers on account of his great personal courage and agreeable manners. I had already heard no end of anecdotes of him told me by my travelling companions, who always alluded to him with affection and admiration. In his clerical capacity I had always heard him spoken of with the greatest respect. When I was introduced to him he immediately invited me to come and stay at his headquarters at Shelbyville. He told me that he was educated at West Point, and was at that institution with the President, the two Johnstons, Lee, Magruder, &c, and that, after serving a short time in the artillery, he had entered the church.

Bishop Elliott, of Georgia, is a nice old man of venerable appearance and very courteous manners. He is here at the request of General Polk, for the purpose of confirming some officers and soldiers. He speaks English exactly like an English gentleman, and so, in fact, does General Polk, and all the well-bred Southerners, much more so than the ladies, whose American accent can always be detected. General Polk and Mr Vallandigham returned to Shelbyville in an ambulance at 6.30 P.m. General Hardee’s headquarters were on the estate of Mrs ——, a very hospitable lady. The two daughters of the General were staying with her, and also a Mrs ——, who is a very pretty woman. These ladies are more violent against the Yankees than it is possible for a European to conceive; they beat their male relations hollow in their denunciations and hopes of vengeance. It was quite depressing to hear their innumerable stories of Yankee brutality, and I was much relieved when, at a later period of the evening, they subsided into music. After Bishop Elliott had read prayers, I slept in the same room with General Hardee.

27th May (Wednesday).—Arrived at Montgomery, the capital of Alabama, at daylight, and left it by another railroad at 5.30 A.M.

All State capitals appear to resemble one another, and look like bits cut off from great cities. One or two streets have a good deal of pretension about them; and the inevitable “Capitol,” with its dome, forms the principal feature. A sentry stands at the door of each railway car, who examines the papers of every passenger with great strictness, and even after that inspection the same ceremony is performed by an officer of the provost-marshal’s department, who accompanies every train.[1] The officers and soldiers on this duty are very civil and courteous, and after getting over their astonishment at finding that I am a British officer, they do all they can to make me comfortable. They ask all sorts of curious questions about the British army, and often express a strong wish to see one of our regiments fight. They can hardly believe that the Coldstream is really dressed in scarlet. To-day they entered gravely into a discussion amongst themselves, as to whether British troops would have taken the position at Fredericksburg. The arguments on both sides were very amusing, and opinion was pretty evenly divided. We met three trains crammed full of soldiers for Johnston’s army. They belonged to Breckenridge’s division of Bragg’s army, and all seemed in the highest spirits, cheering and yelling like demons. In the cars to-day I fell in with the Federal doctor who was refused leave to pass through General Johnston’s lines; he was now en route for Richmond. He was in full Yankee uniform, but was treated with civility by all the Confederate soldiers. I had a long talk with him; he seemed a sensible man, and did not attempt to deny the universal enthusiasm and determination of the Southerners. He told me that General Grant had been very nearly killed at the taking of Jackson. He thought the war would probably terminate by a blow-up in the North[2]

I had to change cars at West Point and at Atlanta! At the latter place I was crammed into a desperately crowded train for Chattanooga. This country, Georgia, is much more inhabited and cultivated than Alabama. I travelled again all night.

[1] This rigid inspection is necessary to arrest spies, and prevent straggling and absence without leave.

[2] Notwithstanding the exasperation with which every Southerner speaks of a Yankee, and all the talk about black flag and no quarter, yet I never saw a Federal prisoner ill treated or insulted in any way, although I have travelled hundreds of miles in their company.