R.E. Lee's Christmas in Mexico, 1846

Lee now found himself with one division of what was immeasurably the largest body of troops he had ever seen, fully 6,000 men! Once the reconnaissances were made and the camp was laid out he had no special duties until Christmas eve. . . . That evening his mind turned homeward, where he knew his children were preparing for Christmas. From his tent he wrote Custis and Rooney: "I hope good Santa Claus will fill my Rob's stocking tonight; that Mildred's, Agnes's and Annie's may break down with good things. I do not know what he may have for you and Mary, but if he only leaves for you one half of what I wish, you will want for nothing. I have frequently thought if I had one of you on each side of me riding on ponies, such as I could get you, I would be comparatively happy."



Shortly after breakfast Christmas morning a hurried message from some of the subsistence officers was sent to headquarters: The enemy was coming! . . . "The Mexicans, however, did not make their appearance," Lee wrote his wife that night. "Many regrets were expressed at Santa Anna's having spoiled our Christmas dinner for which ample preparations had been made. The little roasters remained tied to the tent pins wondering at their deferred fate, and the headless turkeys retained their plumage unscathed. Finding the enemy did not come, preparations were again made for dinner." The feast did not awaken enthusiasm in Lee's heart. He found, instead, what comfort he could in writing Mrs. Lee. "We have had many happy, happy Christmasses together," he said. "It is the first time we have been entirely separated at this holy time since our marriage. I hope it does not interfere with your happiness, surrounded as you are by father, mother, children, and dear friends. I therefore trust you are well and happy, and that this is the last time I shall be absent from you during my life. May God preserve and bless you till then and forever is my constant prayer." The language differed little from that which he was to employ in a letter written on a dark Christmas day, with far greater issues at stake, fifteen years thereafter.



From R.E. Lee by Douglas Southall Freeman, Vol. I, pp. 213-214

December 24, 1860, Augusta, Georgia

Friend Williams,



I hope you will pardon me for not writing you before now. I often think of you, but it is very hard for me to write a letter in the first place. I never know what to say and in the 2nd place my mind has been so much taken up on my teaching that it unfits me for anything else. Our Society gives their first concert New Years night in Concert Hall for the benefit of the poor children of the City. We shall have a large crowd to hear us. I will send you a program next week. We have got so as to sing very well indeed. I am sorry that you are not among our tenors. I rec'd a letter from Mr. Snow asking me to come to Mobile to teach. I have just wrote him and I wish you would call on him and tell him all you can about my teaching.



I send you a letter of introduction in this. Why did you not tell me the other day that you was married. It was a pretty good joke you played on us. You have my best wishes for a long and happy life together.



Please write me when you get time.



Most Resp't yours,



C. S. Mallette(?)

Gone with the Wind

"The sight of Tom Slattery dawdling on his neighbors' porches, begging cotton seed for planting or a side of bacon to 'tide him over,' was a familiar one. Slattery hated his neighbors with what little energy he possessed, sensing their contempt beneath their courtesy, and especially did he hate 'rich folks' uppity niggers.' The house negroes of the County considered themselves superior to white trash, and their unconcealed scorn stung him, while their more secure position in life stirred his envy. By contrast with his own miserable existence, they were well-fed, well-clothed and looked after in sickness and old age. They were proud of the good names of their owners and, for the most part, proud to belong to people who were quality, while he was despised by all."

Gone with the Wind, pp. 49-50

Lincoln's Thanksgiving Day Proclamation

Discussing Lincoln's Thanksgiving Day Proclamation, Lincoln biographer Carl Sandburg says:

Three days after Lee's escape and eleven days after the repulse of Lee at Gettysburg and the surrender of Pemberton's army to Grant at Vicksburg, there was issued from the White House a document entitled "Proclamation for Thanksgiving, July 15, 1863, but the President of the United States of America." In the flowing text and the undeniably mystic spirit that ran through this document, in the announcements that marched in diapasons of Old Testament prose, in the attitude of piety in which the name of Almighty God in various appellations was invoked, Lincoln set forth the Chief Magistrate of the Republic as a man of faith. Some could read a belief in fate and foreordination, or gambler's luck, or a superstitious individual's obedience to hoodoos and mascots, in this proclamation, but these were isolated philosophers.

"It has pleased Almighty God to hearken to the supplications and prayers of an afflicted people," ran the opening chords, "and to vouchsafe to the army and navy of the United States victories on land and on the sea so signal and effective as to furnish reasonable grounds for augmented confidence that the union of these States will be maintained, their Constitution preserved, and their peace and prosperity permanently restored." Those who had brought these winnings should be mentioned. "These victories have been according not without sacrifices of life, limb, health, and liberty, incurred by brave, loyal and patriotic citizens. Domestic affliction in every part of the country follows in the train of these fearful bereavements."

Then came a long paragraph composed entirely of one sentence, the longest in either a private letter or a state paper having the signature of Abraham Lincoln. In it was noticeable some of the tone and style of the churchman Seward, and proclamation may have been a joint product as in the closing paragraph of the first inaugural address. It employed three different appellations for the Deity, and was a formidable effort at delivering the impression that the Union of States and its Chief Magistrate were in possession of dignity, security, and high calm purpose in the midst of tumult, red-handed violence, and the smoke of desolate destruction. The sentence read:

"Now, therefore, be it known that I do set apart Thursday, the 6th day of August next, to be observed as a day for national thanksgiving, praise, and prayer, and I invite the people of the United States to assemble on that occasion in their customary places of worship, and, in the forms approved by their own consciences, render the homage due to the Divine Majesty for the wonderful things he has done in the nation's behalf, and to invoke the influences of his Holy Spirit to subdue the anger which has produced and so long sustained a needless and cruel rebellion, to change the hearts of the insurgents, to guide the counsels of the government with wisdom adequate to so great a national emergency, and to visit with tender care and consolation throughout the length and breadth of our land all those who, through the vicissitudes of marches, voyages, battles, and sieges have been brought to suffer in mind, body, or estate, and finally to lead the whole nation through the paths of repentance and submission to the Divine Will back to the perfect enjoyment of union and fraternal peace."

January 1, 1860, Augusta, Georgia - Part II

Didn't get up till next evening, and then to be on the couch in her room. As she gave the next entertainment, I used my room for a drawing room. Wm was down. She had Alice Cogg and L. Wolf and Mrs. Lumb where I was one evening. Mr. Cook and Tucker attended all. Mr. and Mrs. Potter gave one, and Mr. Wheelock and others. And none cured my cold with all the Champaign, egg nog, wine cake, candy apples, grapes, etc. I ought not to come up today. It is as much as I can do to write, I feel so bad -- a severe cold and sore throat.



Agnes and Mag send their respects. With much regard,

January 1, 1860, Augusta, Georgia - Part I

Much Respected Mr. & Mrs. W,



I have just received the long looked for letter. I wish you both a happy New Year. Very glad to hear you are well & happy. I really began to worry about Lizzie. She, having a bad headache & a long journey before her & looking for a letter before you had tome to accomplish your journey, made it appear really longer than it was. I thought she would say, now don't write 'till I get well. So as the days would come and go and no letter, I really was confirmed in my opinion.



You say you are in a great dearth for letters & papers. We will send you some, who was very glad to hear from Lizzie as well as yourself. In regard to news, Bill Lawhon has just been in saying all the companies here are ordered to leave at 8 o'clock tomorrow morning for Charleston. It is what we have expected. Oh! The horrors of War! Who can tell where and when it will end, but once beloved country, the greatest and best on earth, is to be torn asunder.



Once Christmas has or would have been a dull one had not Mrs. Knapp come over from Edfield Friday before and leaves today. For I have had a bad cold and could not hear her but two days for a week. Mrs. Charles Wheatlock gave the first evenings entertainment. I was not there. Mrs. Copeland unlocked the door that separated us, gave me a hot bath -- compassion -- and bathed my throat with Radway's syrup -- done all she could for me, her husband prescribed and she administered. I'll then go to the party after this.

July 16, 1859, Augusta, Georgia

My Dear Little Alice:



I have just written a letter to Beckie and it makes me think about you, so I will write and it won't matter if your letter is very much like Beckie's, will it? I told her first what a hot day this is down here in Georgia. How hot? The sun shines down on our broad dusty streets, the brick houses and pavements, the rusty trees, the umbrellas and parasols. How hot? The pavements and streets shine up on people in light clothes, sweating very much about the shoulders, under the umbrellas and parasols. How the brick houses shine in with a prefect blaze on all sides. There is no breeze, and the very weathercock looks like it were sun-struck and never would move anymore. I believe somebody else has noticed one in the same condition before me. Maybe it was Dickens -- Nellie knows. The street is never sprinkled on this day, and, like so many fat chickens we all seem to be saved through the week to be broiled on Sunday.



The negroes looking generally nice and clean -- the women with those turbanish bandages on their heads which are so peculiar and becoming to them -- congregate in the market houses and all shady places, and enjoy themselves very much, after their own fashion.



And I -- in the shop, with back doors and windows open for the fresh air -- which never comes in -- my floor sprinkled -- coat, vest and necktie hanging on chairs and door-knobs, shirt collar unbuttoned and very much turned down and suspenders slipped off my shoulders, enjoy myself, as much as I can, after my own fashion.



I must tell you, as I did Beckie, of two new and very pleasant acquaintances that I -- and all of us in the store have made -- little girls from the hotel over the store -- about as large as you was when I saw you last -- 3 years ago. They come into the store to see us everyday, and are very pretty and charming company, but finding that they were about to extend their visits to the shop, which would not do at all, you know I was obliged to invent a Bear and keep him in my little sleeping room (which is not in the shop). Not a bear of the rampant, child-drowning kind such as Elijah (or Elisha I never can tell which) called out of the wood, that frighten children into fits with jumping out from behind doors and skulking under counters, but a mild, benevolent animal with the wool very much grown over his eyes, that eats nothing but grass and melon rinds, and sleeps all the time unless someone wakes him up with making too much noise in the front store. For a day or two Mr. Osborne ignored the Bear, but, seeing that he was a gentle beast who never excited anything of a spasmodic nature, and withal was needed very much he now acknowledges him. So the sweet little girls come in to gladden our eyes often, while the silent influence of the Bear preserves our sanctuary.

January 6, 1861, Homer, Iowa

Dear Lizzie,



May I presume to call you "Lizzie" dear sister? Do you think "Mrs. Williams" would be more appropriate? I must confess I do not, and will therefore call you Lizzie, at least until requested not to.



When James sent your daguerreotype accompanied by a letter acquainting us with his intended marriage, which we learned by day before yesterday's mail was consummated on the 14th ult, and spoke in such high terms of you. I felt so enthusiastic that I determined to become acquainted with you thro' the medium of the post forthwith, but when I saw my poor scrawl on paper was it any wonder I turned away saddened and disgusted? I think not, but I thought of you both constantly, and morning and evening breathed a silent but heartfelt prayer for your happiness.



I gave James an account of our Christmas from which you will no doubt draw the inference that our amusements are very primitive and tame -- my description was certainly the latter -- and probably they are, but we nevertheless enjoyed ourselves thoroughly on the occasion referred to, or at least I did.



New years was a most beautiful day and we had a sleigh ride which we enjoyed as much as our sense of the beautiful and delicious would admit of.



There was a public ball in the evening, but tho' we believe dancing to be harmless and pleasant in itself, yet we have grave objections to the persons who invariably attend such gatherings here, and therefore we did not go.



Our houses are surrounded by immense banks of snow, but on the open prairie it is pretty equally distributed. Soon after the snow fell we had a very heavy sleet which secured the snow from blowing and made the surface of the drifts as smooth and firm as could be desired, affording a fine opportunity for sledding, which Rebecca and George have improved to its full extent.



It is cloudy today and is thawing some. Ma and pa and indeed all of us send our love.



Your proud and happy sister-in-law.



Bella



P.S. I wish to add a few lines for James.



Dear Brother, I wish you joy! O how I wish I could see you and Lizzie and talk to you! This way of putting one's ideas on paper seems so senseless and I cannot express half what I want to, so I will leave you to imagine the rest.



I believe I told you that Mary Hartman married Mr. Hollowday, which was a mistake, her husband's name being Ammond. The misunderstanding arose from the fact of their both being lawyers, both teach in the same neighborhood, each marrying one of their pupils and being married at about the same time. Mr. Ammond is very gentlemanly and appears to be well educated. I have seen him several times and the oftener I see him the more I wonder what could have induced him to marry her. They were only acquainted three months, part of which time he was sick and she took care of him. I send you a "poem" written by him, which, by the way don't speak much for his poetic powers; the theme is the post office at Webster City about which there has been great excitement -- everyone wanting it.



I suppose you remember that Clarindy Heartman moved away to Des Moines about a year ago! Well she was married a short time ago to a stage driver, said to be a respectable man. I do not know his name. James Heartman has a daughter who was a week old last Wednesday; they are very proud of her. Martin Heartman has got entirely well of his wound which they thought would prove fatal. Emily Pemberton was at the New Year's ball, as well as every previous one within the past year. Her boy is a pretty, bright little fellow, and they seem very fond of him.



Your affectionate sister,



Bella



Pa wishes you to read the article marked with a cross in the leaf of the Crisis, enclosed.

March 15, 1861, Mobile, Alabama

$40.75



Rec'd Mobile, March 15th, '61, from Mr. J. M. Williams, Forty & 75/100 dollars in full for board for self & wife up to date.



M. T. McLelland

February 1861, Homer, Iowa, Press Clipping

Death of Dr. J. J. Miller



We are deeply pained to record the death of this estimable man, which occurred at Kosta, Iowa County, on the 15th instant. Dr. Miller resided nearly five years at Homer, in this County, and at the time of his death, was only temporarily absent. His health had been poor for several months, but an attack of pleurisy finally carried him to his premature grave. Dr. Miller was a gentleman of fine education, thoroughly honest and upright, and possessed of the most kindly traits of character. He died, as he had lived, a sincere Christian, beloved and respected by all who knew him. He was 37 years of age at the time of his death.

No Date

Dear Beckie,



If I had heard of that great prairie fire before, I might have supposed that you were all burned up entirely: So far as my letters were concerned you might as well have been for from Ma's letter of 28th Sep. till yours rec. day before yesterday I had not one line to assure me that all was right at home. I won't threaten to stop writing for eight or nine weeks just to let you experience the uneasiness and disappointment that I have felt, for it would be a cruel experiment.

November 26, 1859, Augusta, Georgia

Received Augusta Novbr 26 1859. Ten dollars of Mr. James M. Williams for tuition on Dancing, for one term ending Decbr 12, 1859.



Duesberry & Gans

July 16, 1859, Augusta, Georgia

Dear Cousin Nellie,



I have nothing to say about your letter and its reception, except the bare mention of the fact that it was received. To admit -- (I am merely supposing a case now, and I specially protest against your construing this into an admission) to admit that I have derived any particular pleasure from its perusal and re-perusal, or that I had been rescued from one or two or twenty attacks of the blues, or that I prefer the penmanship, which you disparage, to any copybook imitations, even though the c's were beautiful curves with nice little round heads and the l's each as graceful as a sylph. (Now I know you will take me up on another count, and charge me with a malicious attack on your c's and l's.) To admit any of these things, or any other of a dozen or two supposable cases that occur to me, would only be subjecting myself to another charge of gross flattery. I can found no such charge on anything in this letter of yours against you I am sure -- first there is your accusation against me, anything but flattering -- to charge me with very delicate



(End of text)

January 9, 1859, Augusta, Georgia

Dear Beckie,



We have some cold weather now. Yesterday morning the ice out of doors was as thick as window glass and every body put on their flannel shirts and drawers and rolled themselves up in overcoats and blanket shawls and blowed into their fists and pinched their noses and punched up the fires and run up and down the streets, just as you do when the air is -20 degrees. And what's strange I could not stand the cold any better than the Augustans. I who have travelled all day without going near a fire on the coldest winter's day in Iowa, could not keep warm while I walked the half mile between the store and the house! When I came here I tho't that I could be comfortable in the coldest weather they ever have.



(Rest of letter torn off.)

Confederate Letters

When I was growing up in Mobile, we had a box of letters in the attic written by my great-grandfather and replies from some of his relatives. Those written during the Civil War were collected in a book by my high school history teacher, John Folmar, in the book From That Terrible Field. The move from Arlington, Virginia, to Lakewood, Colorado, via Warsaw, Poland, and Rome, Italy, took a toll on our effects. Some letters and other artifacts went missing, but I have found a few letters, which I will type up to give this blog some content.

Transplanted Southerner

I started this blog to let off some steam as a transplanted Southerner. I grew up in Mobile, Alabama, where my great-grandfather fought for the Confederacy. One of his last assignments was as commander of Fort Powell, one of three forts guarding the entrance to Mobile Bay against the Union fleet. Of course the Confederates were defeated by Admiral Farragut in the Battle of Mobile Bay. I moved from Mobile to spend most of my professional life in or around Washington, DC, mostly in Virginia. But now, I'm living in the "mountain west," in Colorado.



I'm a long way from the South now, and probably out of touch. I wanted the name "Gone with the Wind" for this blog, because that's my viewpoint, that there were a lot of good things about the old South that are now gone with the wind. But we shouldn't lose sight of them, or ignore them because of political correctness. I often tend to give in to political correctness, but I'm going to try not to on this blog.