November 20th, 1864.
A storm of forty-eight hours’ duration has followed the pleasant weather of last week; two days and nights of incessant rain; and still, as night shuts in, the darkening clouds foretell another night of storm. Doubtless the long-talked-of fall rains have set in. From a military point of view, it may be unfortunate. A move was in contemplation which must be suspended, for the present. In all probability General Butler will have time to test his “peace doctrine” before he can resume active operations.
It is my design to confine myself to facts, when writing in my journal, and to leave out my own opinions and speculations, but I find it to be impossible. I am so deeply interested in the progress of events, I cannot always confine myself to the past and present. I am continually watching, with intense anxiety, for something on which to hang a hope of coming peace. In almost every transaction of daily life, that which we firmly resolved to do is already half completed. I hail the result of the late elections as the expressed determination of the American people to fight the battle out to the bitter end. Grant calls it “a great moral victory, depriving the Rebels of their most efficient weapon.”
Long have they, with exultation, pointed to a “divided North,” and to what they pleased to call a “united South.” Time was when they were united, but that time has passed. They have experienced the horrors of war, as no other people of modern times have experienced them. They know, without help from some quarter, their cause is hopeless. That help, Jefferson Davis tells them, they need not expect The New York Herald says: “President Lincoln can now afford to be magnanimous. Let him offer them terms of honorable peace.” Good might come of it, but I would not have him abate one jot or tittle in the vigor of preparation, or withhold his hand when possible to strike. On the whole, I see abundant cause for encouragement. To me, the future is full of promise.
