Raleigh, April 17, 1865.

We have a brief dispatch this morning informing us of the assassination of President Lincoln, Secretary Seward and son. I have not the heart to write a word about it. The army is crazy for vengenance. If we make another campaign it will be an awful one. Sherman meets Johnston to-day. The delay in the negotiations was caused by some dispatches being missed. We hope Johnston will not surrender. God pity this country if he retreats or fights us.

April 17th.–Bright and clear.

I add a few lines to my Diary. It was whispered, yesterday, that President Lincoln had been assassinated! I met Gen. Duff Green, in the afternoon, who assured me there could be no doubt of it. Still, supposing it might be an April hoax, I inquired at the headquarters of Gen. Ord, and was told it was true. I cautioned those I met to manifest no feeling, as the occurrence might be a calamity for the South; and possibly the Federal soldiers, supposing the deed to have been done by a Southern man, might become uncontrollable and perpetrate deeds of horror on the unarmed people.

After agreeing to meet Gen. Green this morning at the Provost Marshal’s office, and unite with him in an attempt to procure the liberation of Capt. Warner, I returned home; and saw, on the way, Gen. Ord and his staff riding out toward Camp Lee, with no manifestations of excitement or grief on their countenances.

Upon going down town this morning, every one was speaking of the death of Lincoln, and the Whig was in mourning.

President Lincoln was killed by Booth (Jno. Wilkes), an actor. I suppose his purpose is to live in history as the slayer of a tyrant; thinking to make the leading character in a tragedy, and have his performance acted by others on the stage.

I see no grief on the faces of either officers or men of the Federal army.

R. A. Pryor and Judge W. T. Joynes have called a meeting in Petersburg, to lament the calamity entailed by the assassination.

I got passports to-day for myself and family to the Eastern Shore, taking no oath. We know not when we shall leave.

I never swore allegiance to the Confederate States Government, but was true to it.

Monday, 17th–News came that Abe Lincoln^[1] had been assassinated at Washington, in a theater, also Secretary Seward and his son.^[2] When the news came of the death of the president, the safety guards, placed at private houses to protect the families from violence, were relieved. General Sherman at once demanded an answer from Johnston by tomorrow, in regard to the surrender. Charles Correll of our company was put under arrest for saying that the president should have been shot three years ago. Correll has only been with the company since the 28th of last September, and then had been hired to enlist for a big sum of money. I went out on picket this morning.

[1] That a soldier should speak of Lincoln in such familiar terms was but natural. It was in no sense disrespectful. All through the war the President was spoken of as “Abe” Lincoln.—Ed.
[2] This shows again the unreliable character of the first reports.—Ed.

17th. Rode all night with paroled prisoners–Yankees. Cold. Reached City Point at 8 A. M. Got ready to leave on the mail boat at 10 A. M. Boat loaded mostly with Southern officers and a few Yankees, few citizens. Saw a telegraph operator with whom I was acquainted in Tenn. Read late papers. Accounts of the assassination. A little seasick. Most of the rebels seem submissive and willing to come under the old flag again.

April 17, 1865.—We have been very miserable the past few days. General McCook with his command were near Thomasville when General Lee surrendered and they pushed on to Tallahassee. Everybody knew they were coming and some things in the Capitol were hidden away but, just as it is in case of a fire, the most valuable possesions were left behind and the first Yankees who reached Tallahassee helped themselves. Well, it is what we expected.

For days the Union forces have been passing along the Thomasville and Tallahassee road; sometimes like well-drilled soldiers, sometimes straggling over the enclosures and entering the houses without the preliminary knock. It is very disagreeable.

Eddie is five years old now and he is a bright little fellow with the greatest admiration for “Toldiers,” as he calls our men. This morning he was on the porch when a Union officer walked in and took, unasked, a seat. He had quite a pleasant face and I suppose Eddie did not know what the blue uniform betokened. The officer held out his hand to him and said: “Come and talk to me awhile, I have a little son at home just your size.” Eddie went across and in next to no time he was sitting in his lap, and eagerly telling him of the events of the past few days. [continue reading…]

April 17th.–A letter from Mrs. Davis, who writes: “Do come to me, and see how we get on. I shall have a spare room by the time you arrive, indifferently furnished, but, oh, so affectionately placed at your service. You will receive such a loving welcome. One perfect bliss have I. The baby, who grows fat and is smiling always, is christened, and not old enough to develop the world’s vices or to be snubbed by it. The name so long delayed is Varina Anne. My name is a heritage of woe.

“Are you delighted with your husband? I am delighted with him as well as with my own. It is well to lose an Arabian horse if one elicits such a tender and at the same time knightly letter as General Chesnut wrote to my poor old Prometheus. I do not think that for a time he felt the vultures after the reception of the General’s letter.

“I hear horrid reports about Richmond. It is said that all below Ninth Street to the Rocketts has been burned by the rabble, who mobbed the town. The Yankee performances have not been chronicled. May God take our cause into His own hands.”

Raleigh, April 16, 1865.

Flags of truce are still flying between Sherman and Johnston. The latter is, I believe, some 30 miles west of Hillsboro. Some of Sherman’s staff went out last night to offer the same terms that were offered to Lee, and are expected every hour with Johnston’s answer. Everybody thinks Johnston will accept and many are offering to bet their all that we will be mustered out by July 4th, 1865.

I am trying to take the matter coolly and determined not to be very much disappointed if the result is different from what we all hope. We will be either ready to march to-morrow morning or to hang our swords on the wall. Hundreds of Johnston’s men are coming into our lines. If he don’t surrender his men will all desert. A lovely day. Disposes one to peace wonderfully. It is most difficult to realize that our war is over. I do from my heart thank God that I have lived to see the rebellion put down. Anyone who has been with us the last year and is alive should be thankful. The whole four years seems to me more like a dream than reality. How anxious I am to shake hands with you all once more. “How are you peace?”

Sunday, 16th–The weather is warm and pleasant. We remained in bivouac all day. All is quiet in the front and both armies are resting under a flag of truce. Neither army is allowed to change its position while the agreement is in force.

16th. Reveille at 4 A. M. with orders to move at 6. Orders countermanded on account of no rations. Went to sutler’s and got cheese, buttermilk and cakes. Beautiful day. Letter from Minnie. Papers. A report that Lincoln was killed a short time since by an assassin. God grant it may not be true, for the country’s good. Am happy today, my mind peaceful. Saw F. last night and night before. Lincoln assassinated. How great the loss to the country. All boys but two took a verbal temperance pledge. Got my leave and took the cars in evening.[1]

[1] Note–After the surrender of Lee on April 9th, 1865, the Cavalry Corps, including the 2nd Ohio, marched southward to strike the remaining Confederate army commanded by Gen. Joseph E. Johnston, which was still confronting Sherman’s army in North Carolina. Shortly after we had crossed the Roanoke River and entered North Carolina word came to us that Johnston had sensibly surrendered to Sherman and we marched northward to Richmond and Petersburg, and on to Washington, in time for the Grand Review. This episode in the Regiment’s records is not mentioned in the diary because Major Tenney was at that time absent on leave at home.–A. B. N., June 10, 1911.

April 16th. Sunday. No inspection. All is quiet in camp. After breakfast, cleaned up, ready for service in the log chapel. Sermon by our Chaplain. A good attendance, with several visitors from town. A good sermon on the sad event. All is quiet, and a very sad day in our camp. All duties suspended for the day. Went for a walk. Evidence of mourning on many houses and public buildings, by placing crape on them.

Sunday, Easter Day, April 16.–I went to church this morning. The pulpit and choir were covered with flags festooned with crape. Although a very disagreeable day, the house was well filled. The first hymn sung was “Oh God our help in ages past, our hope for years to come.” Dr. Daggett’s prayer, I can never forget, he alluded so beautifully to the nation’s loss, and prayed so fervently that the God of our fathers might still be our God, through every calamity or affliction, however severe or mysterious. All seemed as deeply affected as though each one had been suddenly bereft of their best friend. The hymn sung after the prayer, commenced with “Yes, the Redeemer rose.” Dr. Daggett said that he had intended to preach a sermon upon the resurrection. He read the psalm beginning, “Lord thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations.” His text was “That our faith and hope might be in God.” He commenced by saying, “I feel as you feel this morning: our sad hearts have all throbbed in unison since yesterday morning when the telegram announced to us Abraham Lincoln is shot.” He said the last week would never be forgotten, for never had any of us seen one come in with so much joy, that went out with so much sorrow. His whole sermon related to the President’s life and death, and, in conclusion, he exhorted us not to be despondent, for he was confident that the ship of state would not go down, though the helmsman had suddenly been taken away while the promised land was almost in view. He prayed for our new President, that he might be filled with grace and power from on High, to perform his high and holy trust. On Thursday we are to have a union meeting in our church, but it will not be the day of general rejoicing and thanksgiving we expected. All noisy demonstrations will be omitted. In Sunday school the desk was draped with mourning, and the flag at half-mast was also festooned with crape. Mr Noah T. Clarke opened the exercises with the hymn “He leadeth me,” followed by “Though the days are dark with sorrow.” “We know not what’s before us,” “My days are gliding swiftly by.” Then, Mr Clarke said that we always meant to sing “America,” after every victory, and last Monday he was wondering if we would not have to sing it twice to-day, or add another verse, but our feelings have changed since then. Nevertheless he thought we had better sing “America,” for we certainly ought to love our country more than ever, now that another, and such another, martyr, had given up his life for it so we sang it. Then he talked to the children and said that last Friday was supposed to be the anniversary of the day upon which our Lord was crucified, and though, at the time the dreadful deed was committed, every one felt the day to be the darkest one the earth ever knew; yet since then, the day has been called “Good Friday,” for it was the death of Christ, which gave life everlasting to all the people. So he thought that life would soon come out of darkness, which now overshadows us all, and that the death of Abraham Lincoln might yet prove the nation’s life in God’s own most mysterious way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Susan Bradford is 19 years old when this entry was made.

Raleigh, April 15, 1865.

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

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

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

April 15th. Early morning news from the pump. Reported the assassination of our beloved President. At first it could not be believed. I saw an orderly galloping into camp, going right to the Colonel’s quarters. He brought the official report. It was soon known through camp. It was a great shock and cast a great gloom over our camp. How sudden the change. Joy turned to sorrow, when we were rejoicing over the prospects of peace and the end of the cruel war. At first it was reported that he might recover. Later report he was dead. We could not do anything but talk over the sad event. We all became angry and hated the South worse than ever. Thought all the leaders should be condemned to death. Indignation and rage was expressed alike by citizens and the soldiers. We wondered who could do such an awful thing. Later we were informed who the assassin was. Excitement continues in our camp as this sad day comes to a close.

April 15.–The news came this morning that our dear president, Abraham Lincoln, was assassinated yesterday, on the day appointed for thanksgiving for Union victories. I have felt sick over it all day and so has every one that I have seen. All seem to feel as though they had lost a personal friend, and tears flow plenteously. How soon has sorrow followed upon the heels of joy! One week ago tonight we were celebrating our victories with loud acclamations of mirth and good cheer. Now every one is silent and sad and the earth and heavens seem clothed in sack-cloth. The bells have been tolling this afternoon. The flags are all at half mast, draped with mourning, and on every store and dwelling-house some sign of the nation’s loss is visible. Just after breakfast this morning, I looked out of the window and saw a group of men listening to the reading of a morning paper, and I feared from their silent, motionless interest that something dreadful had happened, but I was not prepared to hear of the cowardly murder of our President. And William H. Seward, too, I suppose cannot survive his wounds. Oh, how horrible it is! I went down town shortly after I heard the news, and it was wonderful to see the effect of the intelligence upon everybody, small or great, rich or poor. Every one was talking low, with sad and anxious looks. But we know that God still reigns and will do what is best for us all. Perhaps we’re “putting our trust too much in princes,” forgetting the Great Ruler, who alone can create or destroy, and therefore He has taken from us the arm of flesh that we may lean more confidingly and entirely upon Him. I trust that the men who committed these foul deeds will soon be brought to justice.

Good-Friday.—As usual, I went to the hospital, and found Miss T. in much trouble. A peremptory order has been given by the Surgeon-General to remove all patients. In the opinion of our surgeon, to five of them it would be certain death. The ambulances were at the door. Miss T. and myself decided to go at once to the Medical Director and ask him to recall the order. We were conducted to his office, and, for the first time since the entrance of the Federal army, were impolitely treated. On two occasions we had been obliged to make application to officials, and had been received with great respect and consideration, and we believe it has been uniformly the case; and we were, therefore, very much surprised when a request which seemed to us so reasonable was at first refused most decidedly. We could not give up our application, as it seemed to be a matter of life and death; so we told him what our surgeon had said, and that we hoped he would reconsider his order. He replied, that he should send a surgeon with the ambulances, and if in his judgment they could be removed, it should be done without hesitation, as he was determined to break up the small hospitals which you have all about town, (ours is the only small hospital in town,) and that he had ordered neither rations nor medicines to be issued to them. Miss T. told him that nothing of the sort was necessary; she had never asked nor received rations from the Federal Government; that she had now but five men under her care, and they were desperately wounded, and she would greatly prefer that the hospital should be considered in the light of a private establishment, which we could take care of without asking help. A change came over his countenance, but not his manner; he brusquely told us that he would “see about it.” In an hour afterwards the surgeon and the ambulance came, but after what seemed to me rather a pompous display of surgical examination and learned medical terms, addressed to the lady-nurses, he determined to leave our dear mangled soldiers to our care. One of them is in a dying condition; he cannot survive many hours.

We had no service in our churches to-day. An order came out in this morning’s papers that the prayers for the President of the United States must be used. How could we do it? Mr. –– went to the hospital by the request of Colonel Richardson, and had prayers in his room. Ambulances are constantly passing with horses in the finest possible condition—even finer than ours were in the beginning of the war. It seems to me passing strange that, with all their advantages, we kept them at bay so long, and conquered them so often. Had one port been left open to us—only one, by which we might have received food and clothing—Richmond would not now be in their hands; our men were starved into submission.

April 14^th ½ past 10 o’clock P.M.

O, fatal day. O, noble Victim. Treason has done its worst. The President has been Assassinated. It has just been announced at my door that he was shot a half hour ago at Fords Theatre. Is it possible? I have just come from near the scene, it is too True. 11 o’clock P.M.

Raleigh, N. C., April 14, 1865, 1 p.m.

We passed through town and were reviewed by Sherman, who stood at the south gate of the State Capitol grounds. Just as Colonel Wright saluted, his horse turned his heels towards Sherman and did some of the finest kicking that ever was seen. It was most amusing. Raleigh is a fine old town. Many beautiful residences, and the gardens filled with the choicest shrubbery

The 14th A. C. guards the place. Wheeler’s men sacked it. Division hearquarters received orders to save their rations. What we have is to last 30 days and maybe 40 days. That means a long march, though it is hinted that we do not follow Johnston. Some think we are going into East Tennessee. The citizens of Raleigh generally come to their gates to look at us, but make no demonstrations that I have heard of. The 14th A. C. is protecting them in all their rights. Not a thing disturbed.

High rolling country and large farms. The town is fortified all around, but works were old. I never saw so few negroes in a Southern city. Our headquarter’s foragers brought in five Rebel deserters to-night, and five dozen eggs which I think were the most valuable.

April 14th.–Bright and cool.

Gen. Weitzel and his corps having been ordered away, Major-Gen. Ord has succeeded to the command at Richmond, and his corps has been marching to Camp Lee ever since dawn. I saw no negro troops among them, but presume there are some.

Gen. Weitzel’s rule became more and more despotic daily; but it is said the order dictating prayers to be offered by the Episcopal clergy came from Mr. Stanton, at Washington, Secretary of War. One of the clergy, being at my house yesterday, said that unless this order were modified there would be no services on Sunday. To-day, Good Friday, the churches are closed.

The following circular was published a few days ago:

“To the People of Virginia.

“The undersigned, members of the Legislature of the State of Virginia, in connection with a number of the citizens of the State, whose names are attached to this paper, in view of the evacuation of the City of Richmond by the Confederate Government, and its occupation by the military authorities of the United States, the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia, and the suspension of the jurisdiction of the civil power of the State, are of opinion that an immediate meeting of the General Assembly of the State is called for by the exigencies of the situation.

“The consent of the military authorities of the United States to the session of the Legislature in Richmond, in connection with the Governor and Lietenant-Governor, to their free deliberation upon public affairs, and to the ingress and departure of all its members under safe conducts, has been obtained.

“The United States authorities will afford transportation from any point under their control to any of the persons before mentioned.

“The matters to be submitted to the Legislature are the restoration of peace to the State of Virginia, and the adjustment of questions involving life, liberty, and property, that have arisen in the State as a consequence of the war.

“We therefore earnestly request the Governor, Lieutenant-Governor, and members of the Legislature to repair to this city by the 25th April (instant).

“We understand that full protection to persons and property will be afforded in the State, and we recommend to peaceful citizens to remain at their homes and pursue their usual avocations, with confidence that they will not be interrupted.

“We earnestly solicit the attendance in Richmond, on or before the 25th of April (instant), of the following persons, citizens of Virginia, to confer with us as to the best means of restoring peace to the State of Virginia. We have procured safe conduct from the military authorities of the United States for them to enter the city and depart without molestation: Hon. R. M. T. Hunter, A. T. Caperton, Wm. C. Rives, John Letcher, A. H. H. Stuart, R. L. Montague, Fayette McMullen, J. P. Holcombe, Alexander Rives, B. Johnson Barbour, James Barbour, Wm. L. Goggin, J. B. Baldwin, Thomas S. Gholson, Waller Staples, S. D. Miller, Thomas J. Randolph, Wm T. Early, R. A. Claybrook, John Critcher, Wm. Towns, T. H. Eppes, and those other persons for whom passports have been procured and especially forwarded that we consider it to be unnecessary to mention.

“A. J. Marshall, Senator, Fauquier; James Neeson, Senator, Marion; James Venable, Senator elect, Petersburg; David I. Burr, of House of Delegates, Richmond City; David J. Saunders, of House of Delegates, Richmond City; L. S. Hall, of House of Delegates, Wetzel County; J. J. English, of House of Delegates, Henrico County; Wm. Ambers, of House of Delegates, Chesterfield County; A. M. Keily, of House of Delegates, Petersburg; H. W. Thomas, Second Auditor of Virginia; St. L. L. Moncure, Chief Clerk Second Auditor’s office; Joseph Mayo, Mayor of City of Richmond; Robert Howard, Clerk of Hustings Court, Richmond City; Thomas U. Dudley, Sergeant Richmond City; Littleton Tazewell, Commonwealth’s Attorney, Richmond City; Wm. T. Joynes, Judge of Circuit Court, Petersburg; John A. Meredith, Judge of Circuit Court, Richmond; Wm. H. Lyons, Judge of Hustings Court, Richmond; Wm. C. Wickham, Member of Congress, Richmond District; Benj. S. Ewell, President of William and Mary College; Nat. Tyler, Editor Richmond Enquirer; R. F. Walker, Publisher of Examiner; J. R. Anderson, Richmond; R. R. Howison, Richmond; W. Goddin, Richmond; P. G. Bayley, Richmond; F. J. Smith, Richmond; Franklin Stearns, Henrico; John Lyons, Petersburg; Thomas B. Fisher, Fauquier; Wm. M. Harrison, Charles City; Cyrus Hall, Ritchie; Thomas W. Garnett, King and Queen; James A. Scott, Richmond.

“I concur in the preceding recommendation.

“J. A. Campbell. “

Approved for publication in the Whig, and in handbill form.

“G. Weitzel, Major-Gen. Commanding.

“Richmond, Va., April 11th, 1865.”

To-day the following order is published:

“Headquarters Department Of Virginia,
“Richmond, Va., April 13th, 1865.

“Owing to recent events, the permission for the reassembling of the gentlemen recently acting as the Legislature of Virginia is rescinded. Should any of the gentlemen come to the city under the notice of reassembling, already published, they will be furnished passports to return to their homes.

“Any of the persons named in the call signed by J. A. Campbell and others, who are found in the city twelve hours after the publication of this notice, will be subject to arrest, unless they are residents of the city.

“E. O. C. Ord, Major-Gen. Commanding.”

Judge Campbell informs me that he saw Gen. Ord yesterday, who promised to grant me permission to take my family to the Eastern Shore of Virginia, and suggesting some omissions and alterations in the application, which I made. Judge C. is to see him again to-day, when I hope the matter will be accomplished.

Judge Campbell left my application with Gen. Ord’s youngest adjutant, to whom he said the general had approved it. But the adjutant said it would have to be presented again, as there was no indorsement on it. The judge advised me to follow it up, which I did; and stayed until the adjutant did present it again to Gen. Ord, who again approved it. Then the polite aid accompanied me to Gen. Patrick’s office and introduced me to him, and to Lieut.-Col. John Coughlin, “Provost Marshal General Department of Virginia,” who indorsed on the paper: “These papers will be granted when called for.”

Friday, 14th–We started at 5 a. m. and marched twenty-one miles. We crossed the Neuse river at noon and passed through Raleigh about dusk, going into bivouac four miles west of town. Raleigh is a very nice place, and not a building was burned. Our division had the advance, the Eleventh and Thirteenth Iowa being on train guard.

14th. Spent the day reading the papers and writing letters. Wrote to Mr. Porter and Bails’ people. The whole north seems jubilant over the glorious successes, and becomingly ascribes the praise to God. All seem disposed to be lenient to the enemy, too, all but Davis. Salute fired. Four years today since the flag came down from Sumter.