Woke up this morning with a sense of a heavy misfortune. Asked myself what had happened & remembered that Jackson was dead! #cw150

May 12, 1863

Woke up this morning with a sense of a heavy misfortune. Asked myself what had happened & remembered that Jackson was dead! Omitted to write yesterday that my nephew Thomas Jones had brought his wife to fathers. We go up to see her this morning. I shall offer her a home until the war is ended — for she cannot return into the lines of the hated enemy & since Hill’s repulse at Washington, they have grown more stringent & oppressive. The papers are full of McClellan’s & Burnside testimony respecting the command & conduct [of] the Army of the Potomac. I take little interest in any of them, or anything they say. They only offer an additional proof, if proof were wanting, that neither Lincoln, Halleck, Stanton, McClellan, Burnside, or Hooker understand the first principles of a gentleman. Deficient alike in self respect & respect for each other, they know not what is due themselves from their subordinates, or their subordinates from their own hands. Faugh! they disgust me, a set of cold blooded quill drivers. They have neither the instincts or the impulses of gentlemen.

Source: Edmondston, Catherine Ann Devereux, 1823-1875, Journal of a Secesh Lady: The Diary of Catherine Ann Devereux Edmondston 1860-1866. Crabtree, Beth G and Patton, James W., (Raleigh, NC: North Carolina Division of Archives and History, 1979). http://nc-historical-publications.stores.yahoo.net/478.html

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unfolded the paper & I saw that it was in mourning. I felt that Jackson was dead! & so it proved! #cw150

May 11, 1863

Went out Hascosea after dinner with Mr E on horseback. Everything is terribly backward there. The garden wants work & the flowers resent the neglect by refusing to bloom. A little girl ran out from the house of one of our neighbours & stopped us to ask for some flowers for their May party next Friday. Promised to send them, much to her gratification. Ah! me what happiness have May Queen’s conferred on me in times gone by & what a contrast to the times does a Queen of May now present.

The mail came in after tea & heavy news it brought us. A chill went through my heart as Mr Edmondston unfolded the paper & I saw that it was in mourning. I felt that Jackson was dead! & so it proved! He died of pneumonia on Sunday the 10th, eight days after the amputation of his arm, died in the fulness of his reputation, the brightness of his glory, a Christian patriot, unselfish, untiring, with no thought but for his country, no aim but for her advancement. I have no heart to write more, tho the paper is full of news. I care for nothing but him. It is as tho a Divine voice has said again “Little children keep yourselves from idols.”  He was the nation’s idol, not a breath even from a foe has ever been breathed against his fame. His very enemies reverenced him. God has taken him from us that we may lean more upon Him, feel that He can raise up to Himself instruments to work His Divine Will.

Source: Edmondston, Catherine Ann Devereux, 1823-1875, Journal of a Secesh Lady: The Diary of Catherine Ann Devereux Edmondston 1860-1866. Crabtree, Beth G and Patton, James W., (Raleigh, NC: North Carolina Division of Archives and History, 1979). http://nc-historical-publications.stores.yahoo.net/478.html

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Heard today of the death of …the darling son of an old and dear friend…May God comfort the striken mother! #cw150

May 3^rd [1863]

Sabbath Afternoon

The children all went to Tardis today, leaving the Col. Katie and myself at home. After their return I read to them & endeavored to make them impune the sacred hours – oth that they may incline unto “thy testimonies!” how diligent I should be in “loving deed” in this spring time of their lives. I heard today the sad news of the death of Lieut Lutterloah, the darling son of an old & dear friend of my early days. He was wounded in a skirmish near Kinston. May God comfort the striken mother!

Source: Jane Evans Elliot Diaries #5343, Southern Historical Collection, Wilson Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. http://www.lib.unc.edu/mss/inv/e/Elliot,Jane_Evans.html

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Surely the war has caused more trouble than anything that has happened in our beloved country since the Revolution. #cw150

Hed Qtrs. Pettigrew Brigade

Camp near Hookerton, NC

April 26^th 1863

My dearest Friend

We came to this place last Sunday from Washington via Greenville in two days and you may guess that we were somewhat fatigued. Remained here until Tuesday morning when we got marching orders. Fell in and marched back the road 9 miles towards Greenville – pitched camp and the next morning received marching orders for Kinston to report there that night but to our gratification the orders were countermanded when we reached here or before and here we have been ever since. We were all disappointed at leaving Washington in the hands of the enemy, when we went there we were confident that Washington would be ours with all its contents but not so from some cause or other the siege was abandoned, supposed to be from the fact that our battery at Fort Hill below the town could not successfully blockade the river the enemies boats would pass of very dark nights without being discovered bringing in supplies and reinforcements. Some think that it was not Hills intention to take the place but to draw forces from Suffolk to weaken that point so as Longstreet could work out his plans successfully; my notion is that the former was Hills plan – to take the place We busted six of our best guns at fort Hill and Rodmans farm, a few miles above the former.

I received two days since the sad intelligence of my sister, so was I sad to hear it but God’s will be done. It’s a debt we all owe and have some day or other to pay, our family has been distressed greatly for the last four years for in that time I have lost a mother, brother and two sisters. I do hope that there will not be another death in the family while the war continues as that gives sorrow and sadness enough to be borne; but we know not the day or the hour we have to bid adieus to this world. There may be more of the same family distant this life before the expiration of this horrible war. Surely the war has caused more trouble than anything that has happened in our beloved country since the Revolution. Alas! and when will it end?

Yesterday there was a detail of 50 men from the brigade sent to Randolph and Chatham to hunt up deserts. Reuben Branch was detailed from our company. They are offered fifty dollars and a furlough for every one they catch.

I am getting tired of this country because we have not drawn but one days rations of flour since we came to Greenville, corn bread all the time except on a march. Then sometimes hard bread which is but little better. I want wheat to get ripe soon and lots of it. But then we will get but little of it as there is but little raised in this part of the country and they want us to eat up the corn that is made here and ship the flour to other parts. I would give considerable now for some nice biskets and butter. And wouldn’t object to having a little honey sprinkled over it such as they have at “Pleasant Hill.”

Phifer Erwin has not left yet, he did not accept the appointment of Lt. in the 7rh NC – is looking for a better one – Quarter Master of the 60^th – hasn’t got the appointment yet, but has been written to know if he would accept it. David Moody has been discharged.

I understand a few days since that Reuben Hawks a member of our company died lately at the hospital – don’t know the certainty of it.

Our tents have been sent to Wilson together with all heavy baggage, don’t suppose we will get our tents any more. I must quit as I have to report at the guard house immediately for guard duty. Direct to this place

Ever affectionately

Lewis.

 

 

Sources: Mike and Carol Lawing, eds., My Dearest Friend: The Civil War Correspondence of Cornelia McGimsey and Lewis Warlick (Durham, NC: Carolina Academic Press, 2000). Original collections of the papers are in the Laura Cornelia McGimsey Papers and the George Phifer Erwin Papers in the Southern Historical Collection, UNC Chapel Hill.

 

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I drop you a few lines to give you the Sad news that brother Calvin is dead. #cw150

Camp of the 1^st NCT

March 28^th 1863

Dear Father, Mother, and Sister:

I drop you a few lines to give you the Sad news that brother Calvin is dead. He died about day break on the morning of the 25^th inst. I suppose that the brain was affected which was the principal cause of his death. It is, indeed, an appauling thought to think of the death of one so dear, but sad as it is, we have some consolation to know that he remained usually pious while surrounded with all the vice and immorality of the camp, and instead of participating in this, devoted much time in reading the Scripture. Some of his companions expressed the thought that he was prepared to meet his God in peace. We have another consolation that he had won the confidence and esteem of his officers and fellow soldiers, and that every possible means was applied in burying him decently.  A good coffin, clean clothes, etc were provided. Sad as the thought is, it is no worse than thousands have endured since the commencement of this unholy war. I hope you will all try to refrain as much as possible from unnecessary grief, as it is a thing of no avail.

I have sent the Biblical Recorder to Sis. It will come to Lewis Fork PO. You will see in it an account of brother Calvin’s death. You will find it under the head of Obituary. Be shure to find it and preserve the paper. AJ.J. and Alfred were down to see me yesterday. They are as well as common. They will write you the full particulars of Calvin’s death and burial as they were there soon after he died. They sent for me also, but I did not go, as I was unwell myself. Let me hear from you as often as you conveniently can. Yours,

W.H. Proffit

PS My health is very good at present.

Source: Christopher Watford, ed. The Civil War in North Carolina: Soldiers’ and Civilians’ Letters and Diaries, 1861-1865, Volume 2. (Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc., 2003).  Original in Proffit family papers, Southern Historical Collection, UNC-Chapel Hill.

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I bought today 3 tombstones 2 for my litel children & 1 for mother. #cw150

Knoxville Mar 25^th 1863

Dear Father & Mother

After a bisey day at the sity I write you a few lines. I left my company at Cold Creek last Friday all well except some slight sickness not wroth note. I have bin to col. Thomas head quarters his legion is now under Gen. A.E. Jackson and our boundary appears to be Western NC and Eastern Tenn. I am to remain at cold creek a while yet to search for deserts & to prevent catel from being driven from the state.

I was at the Strawberry Planes Tenn 2 days but did not get to see David as he was out on a scout. I bought today 3 tombstones 2 for my litel children & 1 for mother. It is nearly five ft long & 10 inches wide. He is to put on it all the leters you sent & finish it off for $50 and is to furnish a footstone & deliver it at the deport of this sity. My 2 costs 24 dollars for very small size.

I understand Brother Silas Raised a company in Gilmore County yet it is gon to severville and I do not know the truth of it. I suppose it is so. Father I may not git home again till the war is over & probly never. I want you to try and go to my house & git the date of birth of my litel childrens and the death & send it to me at cold creek so that I can have the tombstone letters made. I hope that you or someone else will see that them and mothers is put in there proper place.

It is the uncertainty of life that prompts me to ask this of of you tho I hope to see it don myself. There is not war news of interest except that Rus and Vance are falling back from [illg] burrow.

Father write to me soon as I want to here from you and my friends. I would like to say that I have 120 men in my company. I have no trouble with them yet. My orders has never bin disobeyed and has not disobeyed one single one yet. I am tired and it is about nine oclock.

Your Son

S Whitaker

Source: Christopher Watford, ed. The Civil War in North Carolina: Soldiers’ and Civilians’ Letters and Diaries, 1861-1865, Volume 2. (Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc., 2003).  Original in Stephen Whitaker Papers, North Carolina State Archives.

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In yon silent house, pale, sad, & grief worn sits a lone mourner! #cw150

February 23, 1863

Father sent us yesterday Seward’s & Dayton’s correspondance with the French Government relative to a conference for Peace. A more rascally weak flimsy pack of lies were never before penned, & that is saying much. I copy on the next page my lines on Peace — blessed Peace.

Peace!

Hark! there’s a whisper abroad on the breeze! List to the musical mumur! Now it swells!
Now it dies! faint! faint! as an infant’s first sigh! — ‘till the grand old Pines
Catching the soft inspiration breathe from their mighty Harps the full Eolian diapason — Peace!
And the swift rushing rivers murmuring to the sea swell the grand Anthem — Peace!
And the idle waves kissing the pebbly shore, with a sudden deep sonorous rush answer in chorus — Peace!
And the ancient hills with a deafening roar from their craggy fronts fling back the loud thunder — Peace!
Till the Earth, the sky, the very atmosphere of our broad land thrills with rejoicing! Nature’s Te Deum! Peace!

Hark how the glad Echoes vexed no more by horrid War give back the welcome sounds of Peace.
The lowing herd, the distant horn, the mellowed music of the hounds, the woodman’s axe upon the hill — soothe the pained ear,
Dulled with the clash of arms, the tramp of steeds, the deep mouthed boom of cannon and the fierce cries of furious men!
The mill resumes its busy clack & from the factory hear the whirr of its thousand spindles.

Forth to the dewey field goes the glad huntsmen, his questing dog, wide wandering o’er the plain
And as the ploughman turns his long furrow the grateful incense that goes up from the fresh Earth
Stirs at his heart the thought of Peace, smiling & with sturdy arm, deeper he presses the glittering share –
Assured that what he soweth now – no foeman’s hand shall reap.

Oft doth the anxious housewife pause in her thrifty care, oft does her expectant gaze turn townward
Down the hot dusty road, for now that the War is o’er & Peace O blessed Peace has come, returns once more her absent spouse.
Hark! there’s a footstep at the door! List to the house dog’s welcome bark! Tis he!
Stronger & sturdier, sadder perhaps, sunbrowned by toil & seamed with scars, but ’tis he!

His children cluster round his knee. Scarce can their feeble memories link the long absent father with the soldier.

With frightened wonder now they gaze upon his half drawn sword, & with gentle fingers timidly & tenderly
As tho they feared to pain him trace they now his scars, hear how this came.
And with sparkling eye list how the man who gave him that n’eer spoke again.
Now comes the full fruition of his labours! the full enjoyment of the blessed Peace.

The cock hence forth shall sound his reveile!
No Bugle knows he save the huntsman’s horn, the only “Charge” he heeds, the rush of hounds.
Slowly he loiters through the fragrant Orchard where the ripe Apples tempt the willing hand, his children gambol round him,
His wife is at his side, her small white hand close pressed within his stalwart one.
With moistened eye now hears he how she managed in his absences, draws from her reluctant lips
The cares & troubles which with tender love she still had failed to write him,
And then with many a loving kiss he vows that she henceforth shall be his General
And that her gentle sway, stronger than War’s stern “Regulations,” henceforth alone shall be his guidance!
Together now the garden walks they tread — sure Roses such as these n’eer bloomed before. One Rose one single Rose
From out that charmed spot is worth whole groves of war won Laurels!
Reverently & with bated breath, lifting his cap the while, speaks he of his lost comrades,
Dwells on their many virtues, how like a living wall they stood betwixt their country & her foes;
Tells o’er their sufferings, their uncomplaining patience, their privations such as her gentle breast n’eer dreamed of.
Then as the theme swells his full heart, sudden he clears his laboured breast, turns to his children,
And with a father’s pride notes how his boys have grown & in his daughter’s gentle face traces her still youthful Mother.
Forth o’eer his fields he rambles, marks how this needs him, how that is in his absence altered
And with a smiling confidence to himself repeats that now that Peace has come he soon will bring all right.
Leaving their tasks, close round him press his servants, their earnest simple greeting, their hearty welcome home
Tug at his heartstrings. Loud they proclaim their infelt confidence that when he their Master, he himself went forth against them,
That those dread enemies, those loathed Yankees n’eer would have the front to stand against him.

So pass his days amidst the joys of Peace — Peace which his own right arm hath helped to win.

Turn we the picture. In yon silent house, pale, sad, & grief worn sits a lone mourner!
No expectant watcher she! The glad echo of a well known step quickens no more her pulse with sudden start
And as the sounds of mirth, the voice of those who with gay shout & song welcome the new born Peace,
Fills the soft summer air, closer she hugs her grief the while and shuddering thinks on Sharpsburg –
And the long trenches filled with mangled Dead!
Patience sad mourner, patience! Think on Him who with His blood forever placed on voluntary sacrifice,
A sacramental seal! Forth in the flush of manhood, at his country’s call, forth went thy loved one.
Fame, health, happiness — yea Life itself freely he laid upon his Country’s altar. Think not hard
That God with pitying eye accepts the voluntary offering, think not hard! He works by means,
Means to a glorious end. That grand vicarious sacrifice by which the One set free the Universe
Is to our mortal eyes inscrutable, unfathomable, but precious — precious as the price of our Eternal Freedom.
Thy loved one died, but still his Cause, his country, lives & by that act, that glorious act of self devotion
He helped to set that Country free. Fragrant his memory lies embalmed in thousand grateful hearts!
Long years hence, when with slow fingers time has traced his furrow on thy Cheek,
Busy men shall turn aside from the stern strife of life through thee to do him reverence.
Mothers with gentle eye & tender tone — shall to their little children tell thy sorrow
And in low whispers, as in presence of a holy thing shall say, “She wears those weeds for one who fell at Sharpsburg.”

Feb 9th, 1863

Source: Edmondston, Catherine Ann Devereux, 1823-1875, Journal of a Secesh Lady: The Diary of Catherine Ann Devereux Edmondston 1860-1866. Crabtree, Beth G and Patton, James W., (Raleigh, NC: North Carolina Division of Archives and History, 1979). http://nc-historical-publications.stores.yahoo.net/478.html

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Poem for a dead North Carolina soldier: “O sweet be thy slumber—the long and the last” #civilwar150

DEATHS

THE BRIGHTEST STAR FALLS FIRST

With much regret we announce the death of our esteemed friend, Lieutenant J. C. Stafford, who departed this life in Winston, North Carolina, January the 21st, 1863, from a wound received in the battle of Fredericksburg.  He left his home and kindred forsaking everything that was dear to him to rush to the defense of his beloved country.  In his death the country loses a good and brave soldier.

Lieutenant Stafford has left behind him many warm and devoted friends, who know well how to revere and appreciate his memory.  In life we always found him courteous, honorable and kind; and with friendship’s pure sensibility of feeling for his loss, our humble pen inscribes to his memory the following lines:

 O sweet be thy slumber—the long and the last,

May glory celestial encircle thy brow;

The dawn of the future to which thou hast past,

Beam bright and resplendently down on the now;

Full many deplore thee and tenderly weep,

While friendship now lingers and points out the spot.

Around where thy form is now silent in sleep,

A memory blossoms that ne’r’ll be forgot.

The green turf now hides thee away from the view

Of those who once knew thee in life’s brightest day.

May summer’s sweet flowers in beautiful hue,

Shed fragrance around thy frail casket’s decay.

In the bloom of thy manhood we laid thee to rest,

And took the last look at thy image so dear;

We saw the turf cover thy motionless breast,

And turned from thee sadly with many a tear.

 

MISSES W. L & M. W.

 

Source: The Greensborough Patriot, February 12, 1863 as found in Confederate Newspaper Project

 

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Examples of Hair Jewelry from the Museum Collections #civilwar150

This bracelet made of hair is in the Museum of History Collections

Earrings made of hair in the North Carolina Museum of History

 

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January 1863 -proposal to construct a monument to NC’s Confederate dead #civilwar150

A monument proposed

A correspondent proposes that a monument be erected upon which to record the names of all North Carolinians who have fallen in battle or died in this war, and offers to contribute $500 to it. We do not publish the communication for the reason that no monument short of the clouds could contain all the names, which would be so high in the air that nobody could get at them. A different and more useful monument will doubtless be provided after the war is over, in the shape of a printed volume to contain all their names.

Source: Fayetteville Observer, January 29, 1863 as found on www.digitalnc.org

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