Descriptive Art of Civil War Letters (Article 57)

The language, especially in written form, used in America during the Civil War era and the rest of the mid-nineteenth century, was more expansive than today, with broad descriptions and less jargon. While some refer to the language of that day as quaint and/or antiquated, others view the use of the lilting phrases from earlier times as more expressive than the “soundbite” linguistics of today. Of course, the newer abbreviated text symbols which dominate social media today, and pass for language, will only exacerbate the distinctive differences.  Reading letters written one hundred and fifty years ago, can help transport a modern reader back to those times. The earlier writers seem more articulate, even those with little or no formal education. Political speech, whether verbal or written, has always been, and continues to be, more flowery and long winded than everyday communications so, with one exception for Abraham Lincoln, no excerpts from speeches are quoted. Instead, these examples are from letters or notes, written between 1861 and 1865, and exchanged between friends; but, in one case, between enemies.

 A first-time visitor to the the Potomac River near Alexandria, Virginia wrote; “Game and fish abound, many objects of interest are close at hand, and the summer fugitive from the ills of city life finds here a pleasant, halting place in his journeying for recreation.”

Upon viewing a battle-field a year after the event, one soldier wrote, “Another year and peace will have hidden the scars that now so sadly mar its beauty. Nature cannot be wholly defrauded of her blossoms, or prevented from drawing her mantle over the deserts that mankind may make.”

 Writing of his dismay at the Confederate victory at Bull Run, the first major land battle of the Civil war, one man wrote to a friend; “Little did I conceive the greatness of the defeat, the magnitude of the disaster which it entailed upon the United States. So short lived has been the American Union, that men who saw it rise may yet live to see it fall.”

 A friend wrote about a mother whose son was stationed in Washington DC; “Washington City was no longer a name to the mother waiting and praying in a distant hamlet. Never, till that hour, did the Federal city become, to the heart of the American people, truly the Capital of the nation”

 In describing a battle, photographer Alexander Gardner wrote, “The Fifth corps performed one of the most dashing exploits of that campaign. Advancing quickly upon the river, they poured down the steep banks, driving all before them, and dashed across and secured a position on the other side, before the rebels could organize for opposition. The enemy soon commenced a vigorous attack upon the isolated corps; but the Fifth was not disposed to part with its laurels.”

 After watching thousands of General Robert E. Lee’s Confederate soldiers march past her Maryland home, one woman, a Union Sympathizer, wrote; “This body of men moving along with no order, their guns carried in every fashion, no two dressed alike, their officers hardly distinguishable from the privates; were these the men who had driven back again and again our splendid legions?”

 After finding the body of a young confederate soldier, this was written; “He had been wounded by a fragment and laid down upon his blanket to await death. The disordered clothing shows that his suffering must have been intense. Was he delirious with agony or did death come slowly to his relief, while memories of home grew dearer? What visions of loved ones far away may have hovered above his stony pillow? What familiar voices may he have heard, like whispers beneath the roar of battle, as his eyes grew heavy in their long, last sleep?”

 General Ulysses S. Grant, wrote many touching, and personally revealing, letters to his wife. This is part of an early letter; “You can have little idea of the influence you have over me, Julia, even while far away. If I feel tempted to do anything that I think is not right, I am sure to think, ‘Well now, if Julia saw me, would I do so?’ And only then set my mind.”

 A person who accompanied Lincoln through the streets after the fall of Richmond wrote; “There is a stillness, in the midst of Richmond, with her ruins. The pavements where we walk stretches a vista of desecration, the loneliness seems interminable. There is no sound of life, but the stillness of the catacomb, as our footsteps fall dull on the deserted sidewalk. This is Richmond, says a melancholy voice. This is Richmond.”

 After he was captured by Union forces, former Confederate President Jefferson Davis wrote to his wife; “Dear Varina, This is not the fate to which I invited you when the future was rose-colored for us both; but I know you will bear it even better than myself, and that, of us two, I alone will ever look back reproachfully on my career.”

 In an 1855 letter to his good friend, Joshua Speed, who was a slaveholder in Kentucky, Lincoln wrote; “You suggest that in political action now, you and I would differ. I suppose we would, not quite as much, however, as you may think. You know I dislike slavery and you fully admit to the abstract wrong of it. So far there is no cause for difference. But, you say that sooner than yield your legal right to the slave - especially at the bidding of those who are not themselves interested, you would see the Union dissolved. It is hardly fair for you to assume that I have no interest in a thing which has, and continually exercises, the power of making me miserable.”

 In a follow-up letter to Speed, Lincoln wrote; “Our progress in degeneracy appears to me to be pretty rapid. As a nation, we began by declaring that ‘All men are created equal’ (but) now read it ‘except negroes.’ When the Know-Nothings (a growing anti-immigrant political party) get control, it will read, ‘except negroes, foreigners, and Catholics.’ When it comes to this I should prefer immigrating to a country where they make no pretense of loving liberty.”

 In 1864, there was a movement to cancel the up-coming election because of the strife and uncertainty of the ongoing Civil War. Lincoln would not even consider it, although at the time, he was expected to lose his re-election bid. He wrote: “We cannot have free government without elections; and if the (Confederate) rebellion could force us to forgo or postpone a national election, it might fairly claim to have already conquered and ruined us. No! There will be elections, and we will accept that which the people decide.”

 After making that critical election decision, over the next few months, the fortunes of war changed in Lincoln’s favor and he was re-elected. In his second inaugural address, he reflected back to the beginning of the war, four years earlier. “While the (first) inaugural address was being delivered from this place, devoted altogether to saving the Union without war, insurgent agents were in the city seeking to destroy it. Both parties deprecated war; but one of them would make war rather than let the nation survive; and the other would accept war rather than let it perish.”

Robert E. Lee agonized over the decision he felt he was forced, by honor, to make if his family’s home country for nearly 200 years, the Commonwealth of Virginia, chose to secede from his family’s newer country (of about 75 years), the United States. He wrote in his letter of resignation to his Union Commander, Winfield Scott; “I shall carry to the grave the most grateful recollections of your kind consideration, and your name, and fame, will always be dear to me.” Then to his sister the same day he wrote; “I look upon secession as anarchy. And, if I owned every slave in the South I would sacrifice them all to save the Union. But, how can I draw my sword upon Virginia, my native state. I will retire to my home in Virginia and share the miseries of my people and, save in defense of Virginia, will draw my sword on no one. With all my devotion to the Union, and the feelings of loyalty and duty of an American citizen, I have not been able to make up my mind to raise my hand against my relatives, my children, my home.” And by home, Lee meant the Commonwealth of Virginia!

Four years later, in April 1865 there occurred a most extraordinary exchange of brief letters, over a two-day period, this time between General Ulysses S. Grant and General Robert E. Lee. The letters were delivered by couriers under a white flag, in “no man’s land,” between their two armies, which were locked in brutal combat.  

·         On April 7, Grant wrote to Lee (in part); “The results of the last week must convince you of the hopelessness of further resistance in this struggle.  I regard it as my duty to shift responsibility of any further effusion of blood by asking of you the surrender of (your) army.”

·         Lee responded (in part); “I have received your note.  Though not entertaining the opinion you express of the hopelessness of further resistance, I reciprocate your desire to avoid useless effusion of blood and ask the terms you will offer.”

·         Grant then replied (in part); “I would say that peace being my great desire, there is but one condition I would insist on – namely that the men and officers be disqualified for taking up arms against the government.  I will meet you or any officers you may designate, at any point agreeable to you for the purpose of arranging definitely the terms.”

·         Lee responded to Grant; “General, I received your note of today.  In mine of yesterday, I did not intend to propose the surrender but to ask the terms of your proposition.  To be frank I do not think the emergency has arisen to call for the surrender of this army; but as far as your proposal may tend to the restoration of peace, I should be pleased to meet you at 10am tomorrow (April 9) on the Old State Road to Richmond, between picket-lines of the two armies.”

·         Grant immediately wrote (in part); “I have not authority to treat on the subject of peace (meaning an overall settlement of the War). (Therefore) the meeting for 10am today would lead to no good.  By the South laying down their arms, they would hasten that most desirous event, save thousands of lives, and hundreds of millions of property, not yet destroyed. Seriously hoping our difficulties may be settled without the loss of another life.”

·         Lee was startled that Grant would cancel the meeting, as Lee had decided in the meantime to surrender his army and now wanted to assure a meeting with Grant did occur. Lee wrote; “I now ask for an interview, in accordance with the offer contained in your letter of yesterday.”

·         Grant immediately replied (in part); “I am at Walker’s church and will push forward to the front for the purpose of meeting with you.”

The meeting was on! Lee’s men chose the McLean house at Appomattox and a first step in the process of ending the devastating war began.

After the surrender, Lee and Grant each wrote to his respective Commander-in chief. Lee wrote to Jefferson Davis beginning as follows: “Mr. President, It is with pain that I announce to your excellency the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia.” Lee then went on, for three more hand-written pages, which included details of placement and troop strength of major units of both armies and the dismal state of supplies, including ammunition, within the Confederate forces. Lee then concluded: “I deemed this course the best under all circumstances. The enemy were more than five times our numbers. If we could have forced our way one day longer it would have been at great sacrifice of life, and at its end, I did not see how a surrender could have been avoided. The men, deprived of food and sleep for many days, were worn out and exhausted.” General Grant simply wrote to Abraham Lincoln; “General Lee has surrendered the Army of Northern Virginia this afternoon upon terms proposed by myself.”

Later, Lee wrote to a friend, “I surrendered as much to Lincoln’s goodness as to Grant’s artillery.”

And this description of a Confederate hospital ward written by Mary Chesnut, captures not only the scene but the raw emotions of the writer as well. “Who are these southern boys? Sometimes I can barely understand the language they speak, except suffering always sounds the same. The boys just want to go home but I know many will not see their mothers again, so I wash their faces and pray with them.”

Modern writers, including this one, simply do not match such descriptive eloquence.