12th.—Spent yesterday at the hospital—very few patients. Our army in the Valley falling back; and the two armies said to be very near each other, and much skirmishing. Our dear W. B. N. had his horse shot under him a few days ago. This is fearful. Our country is greatly afflicted, and our dear ones in great peril; but the Lord reigneth—He, who stilleth the raging of the seas, can surely save us from our enemies and all that hate us—to Him do we look for help.

A Baltimore paper of the 11th gives an account of McClellan having been superseded by Burnside. We are delighted at this, for we believe McC. to be the better general of the two. It is said that he was complained of by Halleck for not pushing the army on, and preventing the capture of Harper’s Ferry and the 11,000. McC. knew it could not be done, for he had General Jackson to oppose him! His removal was an unexpected blow to the North, producing great excitement. Oh that the parties there would fight among themselves! The Northern papers are insisting upon another “On to Richmond,” and hint that McC, was too slow about every thing. The “Young Napoleon” has fallen from his high estate, and returns to his family at Trenton! The Yankees are surely an absurd race, to say the least of them. At one moment extolling their generals as demi-gods, the next hurling them to the dust—none so poor as to do them reverence. “General McClellan is believed to have passed through Washington last night,” is the announcement of a late Yankee paper, of the idol of last week.

November 12th, Wednesday.

Once more a cripple and consigned to my bed, for how long, Heaven only knows. This is written while in a horizontal position, reposing on my right arm, which is almost numb from having supported me for some sixteen hours without turning over. Let me see if I can remember how it happened.

Last evening we started out to see Gibbes, just Miriam and Anna in one buggy, and Mrs. Badger and I in the other. Gibbes proper, that is, the Captain, and the General both approved, but neither could accompany us. It is useless to say how much I objected to going without a gentleman. Indeed, when we reached the road which formed the fourth side of the square formed by Colonel Breaux’s, Captain Bradford’s, and Captain Fenner’s camps, I thought I should die of terror on finding myself in such a crowd of soldiers on parade. My thick veil alone consoled me, but I made a vow that I would not go through it again, not if I never saw Gibbes, Jr., again on earth.

His camp lay far off from the road, so that we had to drive out to it between the other two, and asked a soldier to tell him that we were there. Presently he came up, looking so pleased that I was almost glad that we had come; and then Captain Fenner appeared, looking charmed, and Lieutenant Harris, who looked more alarmed and timid than I. Captain Fenner exerted himself to entertain us, and seeing how frightened I was, assured me that it was an everyday occurrence for young ladies to visit them in parties without gentlemen, and that it was done all through the Confederacy; which, however, did not comfort me for the hundreds of eyes that were looking at us as our small party stood out in front of the encampment around a cannon. [continue reading…]

Wednesday, 12th–Nothing new. The weather is quite cool. This makes our eighth day on short rations, but the quartermaster assured us today that he would have some provisions for us tomorrow. New troops are arriving every day and passing on out to the front.

Wednesday, 12th. Lay around most of the day, feeling most sick. Went into the mill. Capt. returned and Bushnell and several boys for a visit. Said Major Purington sent his love at three different times to me. Made me feel good. Sky clear again. Yesterday cloudy and cold.

Washington County Historical Society version (1965)¹

Nov. 12, 1862—We live in constant fear and danger. It is said that all men must join the Southern army. A negro stole horses, saddles and took my Melinda with him. We have been considered Sympathizers for the South so far but if the Northern troops come we will openly declare ourselves. Today starving secessionists were in our mill and acted as if it were their property.

The Arkansas Historical Quarterly version (1947)²

Nov. 12, 1862

. . . The last two years have been trying ones for us; somehow things seem to grow worse instead of better. We have lived in fear and in hope, but unfortunately more of our fears have been realized than hopes. We have lived in unrelieved anxiety. Some men have been forced into the Southern army. Yes, things have come to that. Julius³ was certain that he would have to go. In fact, he got ready to go.

Three months ago my domestic slave—a woman—was taken away from me by a Negro man who had escaped from his master after having stolen horse, saddle, and saddle blanket. Now I have all my work to do. To relieve me as much as possible Julius has gone over to Nani’s.⁴ She still has help at the house. He and his children had stayed with us almost exactly one year.

The report is spreading that the Pin Indians,⁵ who are for the North, are in the neighborhood. Also, news has come to us that Northern troops are now much nearer us. I can therefore hope to God with some confidence that these times of trouble and anxiety will pass away. Although we have been under some suspicion, we have generally been thought of as good Southerners. If Northern troops come in, we will have to reveal our true feelings, and after that is done we cannot, of course, continue to stay around here. Today several Secessionists came to the mill, and judging by the way they acted one would think they owned it.

1. Lemke, W. J. The Hermanns of Old Hermannsburg: Washington County, Arkansas. Fayetteville, AR: Washington County Historical Society, 1965.
2. Memoirs, Letters, and Diary Entries of German Settlers in Northwest Arkansas, 1853-1863.  Selected and Translated By Clarence Evans, Tahlequah, Oklahoma. The Arkansas Historical Quarterly. Vol. VI Fall, 1947 No. 3
3. Julius Wilhelmi, Lina’s brother
4. Lina’s sister
5. The Pin Indians were given their name because of their custom of wearing a pin as a symbol of their membership in a political group.  They did not make up a separate tribe as such.

Warning

The following diary entry contains wording that is offensive to many in the world of today. However, the entry is provided unedited for its historical content and context.

The Tarboro March.

Nov. 12. On the morning of Oct. 30, Major Pickett, with six companies (the other four being on picket up the Trent road), left Newbern, embarking on the steamer Highlander for Washington on the Pamlico river. Here we joined Gen. Foster’s expedition for a raid up the country. The force consisted of the 17th, 23d, 24th and 25th Massachusetts and 10th Connecticut regiments of three years’ troops, and the 3d, 5th and 44th Massachusetts regiments of nine months’ troops, with five batteries of the 3d New York artillery, Capt. Belgers’ Rhode Island battery and seven companies of the 3d New York cavalry, besides a heavy wagon and ambulance train.

On Sunday morning Nov. 2, the expedition left Washington for a march across the country to the Roanoke river. The 23d and 25th were detailed as guard over the wagon and ambulance train. We marched through a poor and sparsely populated section of country without interruption or anything to create excitement, until about the middle of the afternoon, when we heard firing on the advance. They had reached a swamp of considerable width, with a small creek running across and overflowing the road for quite a distance. At this point two regiments of the enemy disputed the passage of the swamp, and a brisk infantry and artillery fire commenced, which [continue reading…]

NOVEMBER 12th.—The heavy firing heard did no execution. Letters from Gen. Lee indicate no battle, unless the enemy should make an egregious blunder. He says he has not half men enough to resist McClellan’s advance with his mighty army, and prefers manœuvring to risking his army. He says three-fourths of our cavalry horses are sick with sore-tongue, and their hoofs are falling off, and the soldiers are not fed and clad as they should be. He urges the sending of supplies to Gordonsville.

And we have news of a simultaneous advance of Northern armies everywhere; and everywhere we have the same story of deficiency of men and provisions. North and south, east and west of us, the enemy is reported advancing.

Soon we shall have every one blaming the Secretary of War for the deficiency of men, and of quartermaster and commissary stores.

The Commissary-General, backed by the Secretary of War, made another effort to-day to obtain the President’s permission to trade cotton with “Butler, the Beast.” But the President and Gov. Pettus will manage that little matter without their assistance.

Major Ruffin’s (Commissary’s Bureau) statement of the alarming prospects ahead, unless provisions be obtained outside of the Confederacy (for cotton), was induced by reports from New Orleans. A man was in the office to-day exhibiting Butler’s passport, and making assurances that all the Yankee generals are for sale—for cotton. Butler will make a fortune—and so will some of our great men. Butler says the reason he don’t send troops into the interior is that he is afraid we will burn the cotton.

It is reported that a fleet of the enemy’s gun-boats are in the James River.

12th.–Quiet in camp all day. It seems hard that we must lose this beautiful weather, when winter is so near at hand; but I suppose it is necessary to allow the new Commander-in-Chief to perfect his plans. General Fitz-John Porter re-arrested to-day, and taken to Washington, on charge of disobedience of General Pope’s orders, at the battle of Bull Run, on the 29th of August. That the defeat of Pope’s army there, the slaughter of thousands of our true and loyal men, the escape of Lee’s and Jackson’s commands from capture or destruction, was the result of treason, there is not a shadow of doubt. If Porter is proven to be the traitor–hang him, hang him; for God’s sake hang him; and if a traitor at the instigation of a higher in command, hang him too. We have had enough of this thing of staking the lives of our men, by whole brigades, on political chess games. Hang a few of the traitors to save the sacrifice of true and honest men.

November 11th. The Admiral left the ship to go on board the English sloop-of-war Rinaldo. At noon the Englishman manned yards for Rear Admiral Farragut.

Tuesday, 11th–The same old thing over. We are still in camp and on short rations. The quartermaster tells us to be patient three or four days more, when he expects to have full rations for us. I hunted about an hour through a ten-acre cornfield, thinking I might find an ear of corn and parch it to help relieve my hunger, but the field had been picked over so thoroughly that I did not even find a nubbin.

Tuesday, 11th. Capt. went to camp and left me in charge of Det. Wrote letters home and to Fannie. Felt most sick during the day. Did little. Read the Independent in the evening.

NOVEMBER 11th.—More projects from the Southwest. Mr. Jno. A. S. has just arrived from New Orleans, where, he states in his communication to the government, he had interviews and correspondence with the U. S. authorities, Butler, etc., and they had given him positive assurances that he will be permitted to take any supplies to the planters (excepting arms and ammunition) in exchange for cotton, which may be shipped to any part of the world. S. says that Butler will let us have anything for a bribe. No doubt! And Mr. L., President of the L. Bank, writes that he will afford facilities to Mr. S. It remains to be seen what our government will do in these matters. They smack of treason.

It is said heavy firing was heard yesterday in the direction of Culpepper C. H., and it is supposed a battle is in progress to-day. No danger of it.

11th–In camp all day. Beautiful and clear but windy. Heavy firing towards night some twelve or twenty miles to the southwest.

McClellan relieved, and to-day Burnside succeeds. Surely,

“De kingdom’s comin’,
And de day ob jubelo.”

Some of the army depressed to-night in consequence of the change. Natural enough, but it will be all right in a few days, or I am no prophet.

To all the claims to greatness for Gen. McClellan, the question will obtrude: With the best army on the continent, of two hundred thousand men, what has he accomplished in the fifteen months during which he has been in command? “Whilst on the other hand, another question comes up: Why, if he has accomplished nothing, and is not a great man, is he the most popular man, with his army, in the United States? My own solution is this: There is a tendency in armies, to love and venerate their Commander. General McClellan has been at the head of the armies. In addition, his friends hold him up as a political aspirant. He, then, who shall accomplish most for McClellan’s popularity, stands first in the list of promotions! Every Major and Brigadier General feels it to be his own personal interest to eulogise McClellan, and the struggle amongst his followers, is not for who shall distinguish himself most in the service of his country, but who shall stand highest on the list of friends to him who is soon to wield both the civil and military power of the country. The soldiers know nothing against him, because they know nothing of him. He is rarely seen by them, and the encomiums of his sycophantic eulogists, such as Porter, Franklin, Hancock, ” et id omne genus conspiratorum,” is taken as true, whilst such men as Kearney, Reno, Couch and Burnside, must be sacrificed for being in the way of others, who substitute intrigue for genius.

November 10th. Everything quiet; weather clear and pleasant. This morning a mail steamer arrived from the North.

November 10th, Monday.

In spite of its being Sunday, no sooner was dinner concluded yesterday than we adjourned, as usual, to the sugar-house to see how much damage we could do. Each took from a negro his long paddle, and for more than half an hour skimmed the kettles industriously, to the amazement of half a dozen strange soldiers who came to see the extraordinary process of sugar-making. At one time the two boys taking possession of the two other paddles, not a negro was at the kettles, but stood inspecting our work. The hardest part we found to be discharging the batteries, which none of us could do without their assistance.

We had no sooner relinquished our paddles than some one announced two gentlemen at the house. While we were discussing the possibility of changing our dresses before being seen, enter Mr. Enders and Gibbes Morgan[i] of Fenner’s battery. No retreat being possible, we looked charmed and self-possessed in spite of plain calicoes and sticky hands. . . . Mr. Enders very conveniently forgot to bring my nuage. He says he started expressly to do so, but reflecting that I might then have no inducement to pay that visit to Port Hudson, he left it for another time. . . . We arranged a visit to Gibbes, and Mr. Enders made me promise to call at General Beale’s headquarters for a pass. “They will want you to go to the Provost Marshal’s for it, but you just come to General Beale’s, and send a courier for me, and I will bring it myself!” – and half in fun, half in earnest, I promised.

[i] H. Gibbes Morgan, a cousin

Monday, 10th–We have plenty of water at this camp, but are on short rations, having nothing but “gruel” and sweet potatoes to eat. What the boys call gruel is made from flour and corn meal. The quartermaster issued some flour and meal today, each man drawing his portion and cooking it to suit his taste. The usual method of preparing it is to make a dough and then bake it in the hot ashes or in the frying pan. Some of the new regiments from the North are equipped with shelter tents, each man carrying his part of the tent on his knapsack. The boys have nicknamed the new tents “dog tents.”^[1]

[1] Our boys were inclined to ridicule the idea of a man having to carry his tent on his back, and gave them the nickname “dog tent.” But at that very time some of the boys would have been glad for a chance to carry as good tents, for when we were out on the march our tents had to be left in camp or else put in storage, and we would have to bivouac without any protection.—A. G. D

Monday, 10th. After breakfast–poor beef–went into town. Advance with secesh flag and a dozen rushed to it and showed passes from Raines and McDonald–one had taken an oath to shoot every picket, straggler, messenger or pilot he could. Citizens came in for protection. Several recruits came in with guns. 6th sang John Brown and Dixie. Got back to the Mills at noon–tired out and chafed up badly–without anything to eat to speak of but fresh beef–and that seldom enough. On a trot most of the time–tried to rest some. Letters from home and Fannie.

NOVEMBER 10th.—A day or two ago some soldiers marched through the city without shoes, in the snow. A committee of citizens to-day obtained an order from the War Department, for the impressment of all the boots, shoes, blankets, and overcoats in the shops. What a commotion among the Jews!

It is certain that the enemy are advancing upon Culpepper, on the way to Richmond, in great force. This we have in letters from Gen. Lee, dated 7th inst., near Culpepper C. H. He says the enemy’s cavalry is very numerous, while our horses have the”sore tongue,” and tender hoofs. Lee has ordered the stores, etc. from Gordonsville to Lynchburg. He says Jackson may possibly march through one of the gaps and fall upon the enemy’s flank, and intimates that an opportunity may be offered to strike the invaders “a blow.”

Yesterday; Sunday, a cavalry company dashed into Fredericksburg, and after robbing the stores, and reporting that the Democrats had swept the North, that England and France had recognized us, etc., they dashed out again.

The President sent to the department today, without comment, a defense by Col. Baylor of his atrocious order for the massacre of the Indians. It was in a Texas paper. Baylor acknowledges its genuineness, and says the Apaches murdered our people invited to make a treaty with them, and he says it is his intention to retaliate by extermination of them.

Another proposition was received by the government to-day from a French firm of New Orleans merchants, to furnish us salt, meat, shoes, blankets, etc., in unlimited quantities, and guarantee their delivery, if we will allow them, with the proceeds of salt, the privilege of buying cotton on the Mississippi River, and they will, moreover, freight French ships above New Orleans, and guarantee that not a bale shall be landed in any U.S. port. Is it not certain that “Butler, the Beast,” is a party to the speculation? This is a strong temptation, and we shall see what response our government will make to this proposition to violate an act of Congress.

10th.–Reconnoisance by our Brigade to-day. Marched over precisely the same road we came yesterday, to the same place, and returned to-night to the place whence we started the morning; distance going and returning, sixteen miles, over a tremendous mountain:

“The King of France, with forty thousand men,
Marched up the hill, and then marched down again!”

We have done that twice to-day. Why should we not figure in history as well as he? We discovered nothing. But there has been heavy firing again to-day, beyond the Ridge, in the direction of Waterloo.

Sunday, 9th.—Received suit clothes and letter from home.

(Note: picture is of an unidentified Confederate soldier.)

November 9th. Arrived off the city of New Orleans at noon, and came to anchor. Here we were saluted again by a French and an English man-of-war which were laying at anchor here. We are once more occupying our old position as the Flag Ship. As a matter of course all business for the fleet is transacted on board of this ship. As soon as we dropped our anchor the business began. All commanding officers attached to vessels lying here come on board to report to the Admiral. The city looks about as it did when we left, with one exception; there seems to be a little more business going on about the levees; there are also more vessels in port than when we left here.

Sunday, November 9th.

I hardly know how these last days have passed. I have an indistinct recollection of rides in cane-wagons to the most distant field, coming back perched on the top of the cane singing, “Dye my petticoats,” to the great amusement of the General who followed on horseback. Anna and Miriam, comfortably reposing in corners, were too busy to join in, as their whole time and attention were entirely devoted to the consumption of cane. It was only by singing rough impromptus on Mr. Harold and Captain Bradford that I roused them from their task long enough to join in a chorus of “Forty Thousand Chinese.” I would not have changed my perch, four mules, and black driver, for Queen Victoria’s coach and six.

And to think old Abe wants to deprive us of all that fun! No more cotton, sugar-cane, or rice! No more old black aunties or uncles! No more rides in mule teams, no more songs in the cane-field, no more steaming kettles, no more black faces and shining teeth around the furnace fires! If Lincoln could spend the grinding season on a plantation, he would recall his proclamation. As it is, he has only proved himself a fool, without injuring us. Why, last evening I took old Wilson’s place at the bagasse shoot, and kept the rollers free from cane until I had thrown down enough to fill several carts, and had my hands as black as his. What cruelty to slaves! And black Frank thinks me cruel, too, when he meets me with a patronizing grin, and shows me the nicest vats of candy, and peels cane for me. Oh! very cruel! And so does Jules, when he wipes the handle of his paddle on his apron, to give “Mamselle” a chance to skim the kettles and learn how to work! Yes! and so do all the rest who meet us with a courtesy and “Howd’y, young Missus!” Last night we girls sat on the wood just in front of the furnace – rather Miriam and Anna did, while I sat in their laps – and with some twenty of all ages crowded around, we sang away to their great amusement. Poor oppressed devils! Why did you not chunk us with the burning logs instead of looking happy, and laughing like fools? Really, some good old Abolitionist is needed here, to tell them how miserable they are. Can’t Mass’ Abe spare a few to enlighten his brethren?

Sunday, 9th–We moved our camp to higher ground today, and are now in camp on the banks of Scott creek.

Sunday, 9th. Recrossed the mountain, after a breakfast of hoecake of meal captured from the enemy. Went by another road direct for Fayetteville. Very rough roads and poor country most of the way. Encamped in sight of the town.