December 11.—I have been down town buying material for garments for our Home Missionary family which we are to make in our society. Anna and I were cutting them out and basting them ready for sewing, and grandmother told us to save all the basting threads when we were through with them and tie them and wind them on a spool for use another time. Anna, who says she never wants to begin anything that she cannot finish in 15 minutes, felt rather tired at the prospect of this unexpected task and asked Grandmother how she happened to contract such economical ideas. Grandmother told her that if she and Grandfather had been wasteful in their younger days, we would not have any silk dresses to wear now. Anna said if that was the case she was glad that Grandmother saved the basting thread!

December 8.—Yesterday was Thanksgiving day. I do not remember that it was ever observed in December before. President Johnson appointed it as a day of national thanksgiving for our many blessings as a people, and Governor Fenton and several governors of other states have issued proclamations in accordance with the President’s recommendation. The weather was very unpleasant, but we attended the union thanksgiving service held in our church. The choir sang America for the Opening piece. Dr. Daggett read Miriam’s song of praise: “The Lord hath triumphed gloriously, the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea.” Then he offered one of his most eloquent and fervent prayers, in which the returned soldiers, many of whom are in broken health or maimed for life, in consequence of their devotion and loyalty to their country, were tenderly remembered. His text was from the 126th Psalm, “The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad.” It was one of his best sermons. He mentioned three things in particular which the Lord has done for us, whereof we are glad: First, that the war has closed; second, that the Union is preserved; third, for the abolition of slavery. After the sermon, a collection was taken for the poor, and Dr. A. D. Eddy, who was present, offered prayer. The choir sang an anthem which they had especially prepared for the occasion, and then all joined in the doxology. Uncle Thomas Beals’ family of four united with our three at Thanksgiving dinner. Uncle sent to New York for the oysters, and a famous big turkey, with all the usual accompaniments, made us a ?ne repast. Anna and Ritie Tyler are reading together Irving’s Life of Washington, two afternoons each week. I wonder how long they will keep it up.

On November 13, 1860, U.S. Senator Robert Toombs gave a speech related to States’ rights (though that specific phrase was not used) to the Legislature of Georgia on “the present state of the country and the prospect before us.”

For those interested, the complete speech is available.

Excerpts from speech:

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We have not sought this conflict; we have sought too long to avoid it; our forbearance has been construed into weakness, our magnanimity into fear, until the vindication of our manhood, as well as the defence of our rights, is required at our hands.

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Mr. Jefferson acquired Louisiana, extending from the Balize to the British possessions on the north, and from the Mississippi to the Pacific Ocean – a country larger than the whole United States at the time of the acknowledgment of their independence. He guaranteed the protection of the Federal Government by treaty to all the inhabitants of the purchased territory, in their lives, liberties, property and religion – sanctioned by law the right of all the people of the United States to emigrate into the territory with all of their property of every kind, (expressly including slaves,) to build up new States, and to come into the Union with such constitutions as they might choose to make.

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With these vast advantages, ordinary and extraordinary, one would have supposed the North would have been content, and would have at least respected the security and tranquility of such obedient and profitable brethren; but such is not human nature. They despised the patient victims of their avarice, and they very soon began a war upon our political rights and social institutions, marked by every act of perfidy and treachery which could add a darker hue to such a warfare.

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The South at all times demanded nothing but equality in the common territories, equal enjoyment of them with their property, to that extended to Northern citizens and their property–nothing more. They said, we pay our part in all the blood and treasure expended in their acquisition. Give us equality of enjoyment, equal right to expansion–it is as necessary to our prosperity as yours.

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This conflict, at least, is irrepressible–it is easily understood–we demand the equal right with the North to go into the common Territories with all of our property, slaves included, and to be there protected in its peaceable enjoyment by the Federal Government, until such Territories may come into the Union as equal States–then we admit them with or without slavery, as the people themselves may decide for themselves.

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In pursuance of this clause of the Constitution, Congress, in 1797, during Washington’s administration, passed a Fugitive Slave law; that act never was faithfully respected all over the North, but it was not obstructed by State legislation until within the last thirty years; but the spirit of hostility to our rights became more active and determined, and in 1850 that act was found totally insufficient to recover and return fugitives from labor; therefore the act of 1850 was passed.

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Some of them punish us with penitentiary punishment as felons for even claiming our own slaves within their limits, even by his own consent; others by ingenious contrivances prevent the possibility of your sustaining your rights in their limits, where they seek to compel you to go, and then punish you by fine and infamous punishments for asserting your rights and failing to get them. This is the fidelity of our brethren (!) to their plighted faith–their of repeated oaths! Yet some excellent people among us want some more of such securities for our rights, our peace, and security.

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Within a year or two after, a similar case occurred with New-York, while Seward was Governor. He refused, and attempted to cover himself under the idea that there could be no property in slaves. Virginia made the same demand on him, with like results and like submission; and from that day to this that constitutional right has been practically surrendered in the case of negro-stealing.

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Gentlemen, I have thus shown you the violations of our constitutional rights by our confederates; I have shown you that they are plain, palpable, deliberate, and dangerous; that they are committed by the executive, legislative, and judicial departments of the State governments of our confederates–that all their wrongs are approved by the people of these States.

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I say the election of Lincoln, with all of its surroundings, is sufficient.   What is the significance of his election? It is the indorsement, by the non-slaveholding States, of all those acts of aggression upon our rights by all these States, legislatures, governors, judges, and people. He is elected by the perpetrators of these wrongs with the purpose and intent to aid and support them in wrong-doing.

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As for me, I will take any place in the great conflict for rights which you may assign. I will take none in the Federal Government during Mr. Lincoln’s administration.

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Make my name infamous forever, if you will, but save Georgia. I have pointed out your wrongs, your danger, your duty. You have claimed nothing but that rights be respected and that justice be done. Emblazon it on your banner– fight for it, win it, or perish in the effort.

August 2d.—Dr. Boykin and John Witherspoon were talking of a nation in mourning, of blood poured out like rain on the battle-fields—for what? “Never let me hear that the blood of the brave has been shed in vain! No; it sends a cry down through all time.”

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July 26th.—I do not write often now, not for want of something to say, but from a loathing of all I see and hear, and why dwell upon those things?

Colonel Chesnut, poor old man, is worse—grows more restless. He seems to be wild with “homesickness.” He wants to be at Mulberry. When there he can not see the mighty giants of the forest, the huge, old, wide-spreading oaks, but he says he feels that he is there so soon as he hears the carriage rattling across the bridge at the Beaver Dam.

I am reading French with Johnny—anything to keep him quiet. We gave a dinner to his company, the small remnant of them, at Mulberry house. About twenty idle negroes, trained servants, came without leave or license and assisted. So there was no expense. They gave their time and labor for a good day’s feeding. I think they love to be at the old place.

Then I went up to nurse Kate Withers. That lovely girl, barely eighteen, died of typhoid fever. Tanny wanted his sweet little sister to have a dress for Mary Boykin’s wedding, where she was to be one of the bridesmaids. So Tanny took his horses, rode one, and led the other thirty miles in the broiling sun to Columbia, where he sold the led horse and came back with a roll of Swiss muslin. As he entered the door, he saw Kate lying there dying. She died praying that she might die. She was weary of earth and wanted to be at peace. I saw her die and saw her put in her coffin. No words of mine can tell how unhappy I am. Six young soldiers, her friends, were her pall-bearers. As they marched out with that burden sad were their faces.

Princess Bright Eyes writes: “Our soldier boys returned, want us to continue our weekly dances.” Another maiden fair indites: “Here we have a Yankee garrison. We are told the officers find this the dullest place they were ever in. They want the ladies to get up some amusement for them. They also want to get into society.”

From Isabella in Columbia: “General Hampton is home again. He looks crushed. How can he be otherwise? His beautiful home is in ruins, and ever present with him must be the memory of the death tragedy which closed forever the eyes of his glorious boy, Preston! Now! there strikes up a serenade to General Ames, the Yankee commander, by a military band, of course. . . . Your last letters have been of the meagerest. What is the matter?”

Friday, 21st—It rained all day. No pay yet. Most of the boys are staying down in -town. There is nothing of importance.

Thursday, 20th—We remained in camp all day. No pay yet.

Tuesday, 18th—We are still pushing on towards home and everything is all right. Our train ran all night, except when standing on some sidetrack. We arrived at Michigan City a little after dark and changed cars for Chicago.

Monday, 17th—We had our last reveille early this morning. We took down our rubber ponchos, packed our knapsacks, and at 5 o’clock started for the boat landing, where we took the ferry for New Albany, Indiana, crossing the river below Louisville. On our way up the river we passed the headquarters of Generals Logan and Belknap, and each delivered a short speech to us. At New Albany we took the train for Michigan City, leaving at 10 o’clock. We had fairly good passenger cars, but the train was a slow one, as it often had to switch onto sidings to let other trains pass.

July 16.—Rev. Dr. Buddington, of Brooklyn, preached to-day. His wife was Miss Elizabeth Willson, Clara Coleman’s sister. My Sunday School book is “Mill on the Floss,” but Grandmother says it is not Sabbath reading, so I am stranded for the present.

Sunday, 16th—It rained all day, and having no duty of any kind, we remained in our “ranches.” We had no services of any kind today, but as we had our last dress parade, and as this is our last Sunday in camp, we should have had some minister come out from the city for our last religious services in camp.

Saturday, 15th—Our regiment, the Eleventh Iowa Veteran Volunteers, was mustered out this morning at 9 o’clock. We were relieved from all duty and turned over to the general quartermaster the regimental teams and everything that does not belong to the individual officers or men. The papers for the rest of the brigade have not yet been made out.

Friday, 14th—I had a time getting the men out this morning when starting around the brigade to relieve the second relief, some refusing to come out of their tents. I finally started with what guards I had, and when I came to a guard for whom I had no man as relief, I told him to fall in behind and go to the guard tent, thus leaving his beat vacant. After I had made the round, I went to the tents of the absentees and ordered them out, each to his own beat number, adding that if they refused I would have them arrested and put in the guardhouse. I went to one chap’s tent the third and last time, and I tell you he did some lively stepping to reach his beat. He was a member of the Sixteenth Iowa. Our muster rolls and discharge papers were all finished today and the accounts with the regimental quartermaster were all squared up; everything has now been inspected and reported ready for mustering out. All the property belonging to the quartermaster will be turned over to him tomorrow morning. Some of the boys in the regiment have bought their Springfield rifles of the Government, paying $7.00 for them. I bought my rifle, as did more than half of the boys of Company E. These are the rifles we received at Cairo, Illinois, in May, 1864. We are entitled to our knapsacks, haversacks and canteens, and of course are taking them with us.

Wednesday, 12th—Very pleasant weather. Our regimental muster-out rolls are almost ready.

Tuesday, 11th—Troops are leaving daily for their homes. The boys are all active in getting everything squared up with one another before leaving for their homes. We get passes to the city as often as we can, to buy things we want before leaving the army for good. The boys are getting small photo gems taken to exchange with one another; I have already received over sixty in exchange.

Monday, 10th–The men of the Fifteenth and Seventeenth Army Corps are raising a subscription for the purpose of erecting a monument in memory of the lamented Gen. James B. McPherson,^[1] the old commander of the two corps, who was killed in the battle of Atlanta on the 22d day of July, 1864. I gave $5.00 myself, the whole company raising $75.00.

[1] Major-General McPherson was a noble man, a Christian gentleman, kind to the officers and men in his command, and the men of his two corps placed him equal to any of the generals in the army. East or West.—A. G. D.

Sunday, 9th—It rained all day and all of us not on guard remained in our “ranches.” Our camp is on rolling ground and so the water runs off quickly. In this camp we have no bunks built up from the ground, for there was no tearing down of houses to get timbers, but we have straw on which to lay our ponchos. For a roof we have a pole resting on two forks, with four rubber ponchos stretched over the pole and the ends fastened to the ground.

Saturday, July 8.—-What excitement there must have been in Washington yesterday over the execution of the conspirators. It seems terrible that Mrs. Surratt should have deserved hanging with the others. I saw a picture of them all upon a scaffold and her face was screened by an umbrella. I read in one paper that the doctor who dressed Booth’s broken leg was sentenced to the Dry Tortugas. Jefferson Davis, I suppose, is glad to have nothing worse served upon him, thus far, than con?nement in Fortress Monroe. It is wonderful that 800,000 men are returning so quietly from the army to civil life that it is scarcely known, save by the welcome which they receive in their own homes.

July 7th. Up early this morning. Waiting for our turn to come for our pay and discharge.

July 7th, 1805.

The Eighteenth Regiment, Connecticut Volunteers, disbanded. Its members free citizens again. The separation was somewhat sad. We were happy that the end had come. Now came the last good-bye, as we grasped each other by the hand, looking into each other’s face, sad but happy. Our soldier life had come to an end. No more picket and guard duty. No more marching by day and night in all kinds of weather. No more camp life, sleeping on the ground in all kinds of weather. No more the long roll to call us out in the night. No more the danger from battle, sickness, or suffering from hunger and thirst. These things all helped to make the life of a soldier as very serious one. Left Hartford at 6 P. M. bound for Norwich, singing “Oh Happy Day.”

Friday, 7th—Our officers have commenced to make out the discharge papers and the muster rolls. The blanks came this morning and the officers of each company have expert penmen at work filling them out.