ORDNANCE SERVICE.
Transferred to Ordnance. -- Camp Beauregard. -- Was my Oath
binding? -- Resources of the Rebels. -- Cannon stolen. --
Manufactured. -- A Rifling Machine. -- Beauregard's Bells.
-- Imported Cannon. -- Running Blockade. -- Silence of
Southern Papers. -- Small Arms made. -- Altered. --
Abundant. -- Earnestness of all Classes. -- Imported Arms.
-- England's Neutrality. -- Ammunition imported. --
Manufactured. -- Smuggled. -- A Railroad Episode. -- A
Deserting Engineer. -- A New Hand at the Throttle. --
Caution. -- A Smash Up and Pistols. -- Reconciliation. --
Result of Smash Up. -- Bowling Green. -- Size of Army. --
Sickness. -- Personal. -- Kindness of Nashville People. --
Moral and Religious Efforts for the Rebel Army. -- Vices
prevalent. -- Seminaries and Schools disbanded.
On the 14th of November, I was breveted second lieutenant for the
time, that I might take charge of a shipment of ammunition to Camp
Beauregard, near Feliciana, a small town in Graves county, Kentucky,
near the New Orleans and Ohio railroad, about seventeen miles from
Columbus. This place was held by a brigade of about four thousand
men, under Brigadier-general John S. Bowen, as a key to the
interior, to prevent the Federal forces from attacking Columbus in
the rear.
Having now spent six months in the infantry, and mastered the
details of a soldier's common duties, I was heartily sick of the
life. I sought a transfer to the ordnance department and obtained
it, with the rank and pay of ordnance sergeant. Acting on the
ever-present purpose, to keep my eyes and ears open and my mouth
generally shut, to see and hear all and say little, I knew the
ordnance department would open a new field for observation, which
might perchance be of use in the future,--a future that was very
uncertain to me then, for I could see no daylight as to escape. I
may as well admit here, that whenever I reflected on the violation
of an oath,--the oath to bear true allegiance to the Confederate
Government,--I had some hesitation. An older and wiser head would
perhaps have soon settled it, that an oath taken under constraint,
and to a rebel and usurped power, was not binding. But I shrunk from
the voluntary breaking of even an involuntary bond, in which I had
invoked the judgment of God upon me if I should not keep it. To
this should be added the consideration, which perhaps had too much
weight with me, that as I was trusted by the authorities with a
position of some importance, my honor was at stake in fulfilling all
my obligations. The idea that I should betray those who were
reposing confidence in me at the time and become a deserter, with
its odium forever following me, was more than I could contemplate
with pleasure. I state this as the exact truth in the case, not as
an apology for my conduct. Under this general feeling, I confess I
strove more to acquire knowledge where I was, than to escape from
the Rebel service.
During the six weeks I was attached to the ordnance department, I
learned some facts which it were well for the North to know. Since
reaching home, I hear wonder expressed at two things: the vast
energy of the South; and their unexpected resources, especially in
the procuring of cannon, small-arms, and ammunition. How have they
secured and manufactured an adequate supply of these, during such a
protracted and destructive struggle?
In answer to this inquiry let me say: The immense supply of
cannon--to speak of them first--which that stupendous thief Floyd
traitorously placed in the Southern forts and arsenals during his
term of office, made a very good beginning for this arm of the
service. It was also said by Southern officers, that a large number
of guns which had been used in the Mexican war were still stored in
the South,--I have heard, at Point Isabel. These were soon brought
into use. Many old Mexican and Spanish brass guns were recast into
modern field-pieces. These were said to have made the finest guns in
the Rebel service, because of the large percentage of silver
contained in the metal.
Very early in the rebellion, an extensive establishment for the
manufacture of field artillery existed in New Orleans, which sent
out beautiful batteries. These batteries I saw in various parts of
the army. This factory was under the superintendence of Northern and
foreign mechanics. Memphis supplied some thirty-two and sixty-four
pounders, also a number of iron Parrott guns. These were cast in
the navy yard by the firm of Street & Hungerford. At Nashville,
Tennessee, the firm of T.M. Brennan & Co. turned out a large amount
of iron light artillery of every description; and shortly before
Nashville was evacuated, they perfected a fine machine for rifling
cannon, which I examined. They sent a spy North, who obtained, it
was said, at the Fort Pitt foundery the drawings and specifications
which enabled their workmen to put up this machine. This expensive,
and to them valuable machine, was removed to Atlanta, Georgia. In
escaping home I came through Nashville a few weeks since, and saw
about a dozen large cannon still lying at this foundery, which the
sudden flight of the Rebels from Nashville prevented them from
rifling or carrying away. All know that the Tredegar Iron Works in
Richmond, Virginia, is an extensive manufactory of guns of large
caliber. Indeed, every city of the South, having a foundery of any
size, boasts of furnishing some cannon.
Many of these guns were defective and even dangerous. One battery
from the Memphis foundery lost three guns in a month by bursting,
one of them at the battle of Belmont, November 7th. After the Rebel
reverses at Forts Henry and Donelson, and the retreat from Bowling
Green and Nashville, when General Beauregard took command of the
army of the Mississippi valley, he issued a call to the citizens for
bells of every description. In some cities every church gave up its
bell. Court-houses, factories, public institutions, and plantations,
sent on theirs. And the people furnished large quantities of old
brass of every description--andirons, candlesticks, gas fixtures,
and even door-knobs. I have seen wagon loads of these lying at
railroad depots, waiting shipment to the founderies. _The Rebels are
in earnest._
But the finest cannon have been received from England. Several
magnificent guns of the Whitworth and Blakely patents I have seen,
or heard described as doing good execution among the "Yankees." How
many have been imported I can not tell, but surely a large number.
In explanation of my ignorance upon this point, let me state this
fact. For some months after the blockade was declared, vessels from
Europe were running it constantly, and the Southern papers
boastfully told of their success. The Confederate authorities saw
the evil of this publicity, and many months ago prohibited the
notice of such arrivals. Hence we see no mention of them recently,
but it is a great mistake to imagine that there are none. The
constant arrival of new European arms and ammunition, the private
talk in well-informed circles, the knowledge of the latest European
news, and especially the letters from Confederate emissaries
regularly received in the South, convince me that the blockade is by
no means perfect. From the innumerable inlets all along the
southeastern coast, and the perfect knowledge possessed of these by
Rebel pilots, it is perhaps impossible that it should be so. The
wisdom of the South in compelling the papers to omit all mention of
the facts in this case, is most unquestionable. Well would it be for
the North if the press were restrained from publishing a thousand
things, which do the readers no good, and which constantly give aid
to the Rebel leaders.
As to small-arms, the energies of the South have been more fully
developed in their manufacture than is dreamed of by the North. As
early as April, 1861, Memphis had commenced the alteration of
immense quantities of flintlock muskets, sent South during Floyd's
term as Secretary of War. I saw this work progressing, even before
Secession was a completed fact there. New Orleans turned out the
best rifles I ever saw in the South. They were similar to the French
Minié rifle, furnished with fine sword-bayonets. The Louisiana
troops were mostly armed with these. At Nashville and Gallatin,
Tennessee, rifles were also made, and I suppose in every
considerable city in the South. In addition, it should be known that
thousands of Government arms were in the hands of the people, all
through the Southern States; how they procured them I do not know.
These were gathered up and altered or improved, and issued to the
troops. Many of the regiments went into the field armed with every
description of guns, from the small-bore squirrel-rifle and
double-barreled shot-gun to the ponderous Queen Bess musket and
clumsy but effective German Yager. The regiments were furnished as
fast as possible with arms of one kind, and the others returned to
the factories to be classified and issued again. Sword-bayonets were
fitted to double-barreled shot-guns, making them a very effective
weapon. Others were cut down to a uniform length of about
twenty-four inches, and issued to the cavalry. Common hunting-rifles
were bored out to carry a Minié ball, twenty to the pound, and
sword-bayonets fitted to them. One entire brigade of Tennesseans,
under General Wm. H. Carroll, was armed with these guns.
When recovering from sickness at Nashville, I spent hours of
investigation in the base of the capitol, used as an armory, where
an immense amount of this work had been done. I have been told that
the basement of our National capitol has been used to prepare bread
for loyal soldiers; _that_ basement was used to prepare them
bullets. At Bowling Green I saw many thousands of rifles and
shot-guns which had been collected for alteration, and the machine
shop of the Louisville and Nashville railroad was used as an armory.
Many of these guns were destroyed, and others left, when the town
was evacuated. Nor should it be forgotten that almost every man of
any position owned a pair of Colt's repeaters, many of them of the
army and navy size. These were eagerly bought up by the Confederate
authorities, who paid from thirty to sixty dollars apiece for them.
They were for the cavalry service. Add to these facts, that every
country blacksmith made cutlasses from old files, &c.; most of them
clumsy but serviceable weapons in a close encounter. Artillery and
cavalry sabers were manufactured at New Orleans, Memphis, and
Nashville, and probably at other places.
In short, at the beginning of the year 1862, there was rather a
surfeit than any scarcity of arms all over the South. Indeed, the
energies of the entire people were employed in the production of
every description of small-arms, and the enthusiasm displayed rivals
the example of ancient Carthage, in her last fruitless struggle
against the Romans. And this enthusiasm pervades all classes. I
doubt not, if the bow was considered a weapon of war now, the fair
maidens of the South would gladly contribute their flowing tresses
for bowstrings, if necessary, as did the women of Carthage. Their
zeal and self-denial are seen in the fact that the ladies have
given vast amounts of jewelry to be sold to build gunboats,
fortifications, &c.; the women of Alabama actually contributing
$200,000, as estimated, for the construction of a gunboat to protect
the Alabama river. Does the reader ask, Why such sacrifice? THEY ARE
IN EARNEST. They think they are fighting for property, home, and
life.
Yet after all that has been said, the largest supply of small-arms
comes from England and France. I have repeatedly heard it said that
300,000 stand of arms have been received from abroad;--that 65,000
came in one load by the Bermuda.
The imported guns are principally Enfield, Minié, and Belgian
rifles. The first Enfields received had been used somewhat,
probably in the Crimean and Indian wars. The crown marks on the
first importations, were stamped out with the initials of those who
had bought them from the government; the later arrivals, _exhibit
the crown marks uneffaced_. I have seen Enfield rifles of the
manufacture of 1861 and 1862, with the stamp of the "Tower" on the
lock-plate! Officers, in opening and examining cases of these, would
nod significantly to each other, as much as to say, "_See the proof
of England's neutrality!_" The French and Belgian rifles, among the
best arms ever made, are mostly of recent manufacture, and elegantly
finished. Yes, the South has arms in abundance, and good ones; and
they know how to use them, and _they are resolved to do it_.
The question is often asked, Where does the ammunition come from to
supply the Southern army? I would state in reply, that with the
cargoes of arms, ammunition was supplied, at the rate of a thousand
rounds for each gun. While engaged in the Ordnance Department, I
often issued boxes of ammunition, which were put up in London for
the Enfield rifle. The fixed ammunition of England is said by
Southern officers to be the finest in the world. But much was also
made at home. The largest laboratory for making cartridges, of which
I had any knowledge, was in Memphis, afterward removed to Grenada,
Mississippi. Powder-mills were established at various points, one of
the largest at Dahlonega, Georgia; and old saltpeter caves were
opened, the government offering forty-five cents per pound for
saltpeter, and exempting all persons employed in its manufacture
from military duty. Percussion caps were made in Richmond early in
1861, and great numbers were smuggled through the lines, in the
early part of the war. As to the supply of ammunition, my opinion
is, that the South will not lack while the rebellion lasts.
On the 17th of December, I left Camp Beauregard with a car-load of
ammunition, attached to a train of twenty-five box-cars, containing
the 27th Tennessee regiment, Colonel Kit Williams commanding, for
Bowling Green, where a battle was expected. Colonel Williams'
orders were, to go through with all possible dispatch. Here was a
new field for observation to me, and one of great interest. As soon
as I saw my special charge, the car of ordnance, all right, I doffed
my uniform for a fatigue dress, and took my position with the
engineer, determined to learn all I could of the management of the
locomotive. The knowledge I acquired pretty nearly cost me my life,
as will soon be seen,--a new illustration that "a little knowledge
is a dangerous thing."
We left Feliciana in the morning, and ran down the New Orleans and
Ohio railroad to Union City, 18 miles, thence on the Mobile and Ohio
road to Humboldt, which we reached by five o'clock in the evening.
It had now grown dusk. During this time, I had mastered the working
of the engine, when all was in good order; had noted the amount of
steam necessary to run the train, the uses of the various parts of
the engine, and had actually had the handling of the locomotive much
of the way. When we reached Humboldt, where we took the Memphis and
Clarksville railroad for Paris and Bowling Green, the engineer,
Charles Little, refused to run the train on during the night, as he
was not well acquainted with the road, and thought it dangerous. In
addition, the head-light of the locomotive being out of order, and
the oil frozen, he could not make it burn, and he could not possibly
run without it. Colonel Williams grew angry, probably suspecting him
of Union sentiments, and of wishing to delay the train, cursed him
rather roundly, and at length told him he should run it under a
guard; adding, to the guard already on the engine, "If any accident
occurs, shoot the cursed Yankee." Little was a Northern man. Upon
the threat thus enforced, the engineer seemed to yield, and prepared
to start the train. As if having forgotten an important matter, he
said, hastily, "Oh, I must have some oil," and stepping down off the
locomotive, walked toward the engine-house. When he was about twenty
yards from the cars, the guard thought of their duty, and one of
them followed Little, and called upon him to halt; but in a moment
he was behind the machine-shop, and off in the dense woods, in the
deep darkness. The commotion soon brought the colonel and a crowd,
and while they were cursing each other all round, the firemen and
most of the brakemen slipped off, and here we were with no means of
getting ahead. All this time I had stood on the engine, rather
enjoying the _mêlée_, but taking no part in it, when Colonel
Williams, turning to me, said,
"Can not you run the engine?"
I replied, "No, sir."
"You have been on it as we came down."
"Yes, sir, as a matter of curiosity."
"Don't you know how to start and stop her!"
"Yes, that is easy enough; but if any thing should go wrong I could
not adjust it."
"No difference, no difference, sir; I must be at Bowling Green
to-morrow, and you must put us through."
I looked him in the eye, and said calmly, "Colonel Williams, I can
not voluntarily take the responsibility of managing a train with a
thousand men aboard, nor will I be forced to do it under a guard who
know nothing about an engine, and who would be as likely to shoot
me for doing my duty as failing to do it; but if you will find
among the men a fireman, send away this guard, and come yourself on
the locomotive, I will do the best I can."
And now commenced my apprenticeship to running a Secession railroad
train, with a Rebel regiment on board. The engine behaved admirably,
and I began to feel quite safe, for she obeyed every command I gave
her, as if she acknowledged me her rightful lord.
I could not but be startled at the position in which I was placed,
holding in my hand the lives of more than a thousand men, running a
train of twenty-five cars over a road I had never seen, running
without a head-light, and the road so dark that I could only see a
rod or two ahead, and, to crown all, knowing almost nothing of the
business. Of course I ran slowly, about ten miles an hour, and
never took my hand off the throttle or my eye from the road. The
colonel at length grew confident, and almost confidential, and did
most of the talking, as I had no time for conversation. When we had
run about thirty miles, and every thing was going well, Colonel
Williams concluded to walk back, on the top of the box-cars, to a
passenger car which was attached to the rear of the train and
occupied by the officers.
This somewhat hazardous move he commenced just as we struck a
stretch of trestlework which carried the road over a gorge some
fifty feet deep. As the locomotive reached the end of the
trestlework the grade rose a little, and I could see through, or in,
a deep cut which the road ran into, an obstruction. What it was, or
how far ahead, I had almost no conception; but quick as thought--and
thought is quick as lightning in such circumstances--I whistled for
the brakes, shut off the steam, and waited the collision. I would
have reversed the engine, but a fear that a reversal of its action
would crowd up the cars on the trestlework and throw them into the
gorge below, forbade; nor was there wisdom in jumping off, as the
steep embankments on either side would prevent escape from the wreck
of the cars when the collision came. All this was decided in an
instant of time, and I calmly awaited the shock which I saw was
unavoidable. Though the speed, which was very moderate before, was
considerably diminished in the fifty yards between the obstacle and
the head of the train, I saw that we would certainly run into the
rear of another train, which was the obstruction I had seen.
The first car struck was loaded with hay and grain. My engine
literally split it in two, throwing the hay right and left, and
scattering the grain like chaff. The next car, loaded with horses,
was in like manner torn to pieces, and the horses piled upon the
sides of the road. The third car, loaded with tents and camp
equipage, seemed to present greater resistance, as the locomotive
only reached it, and came to a stand-still.
My emotions during these moments were most peculiar. I watched the
remorseless pressure of the engine with almost admiration. It
appeared to be deliberate, and resolute, and insatiable. The shock
was not great, the advance seemed very slow; but it plowed on
through car after car with a steady and determined course, which
suggested at that critical moment a vast and resistless living
agent. When motion ceased, I knew my time of trial was near; for if
Colonel Williams had not been thrown from the top of the cars into
the gorge below, he would soon be forward to execute his threat,--to
shoot me if any accident occurred. I stepped out of the cab on the
railing running along to the smoke-stack, so as to be out of view to
one coming forward toward the engine, and yet to have him in the
full light of the lantern which hung in the cab.
Exactly as I had surmised,--for I had seen a specimen of his fierce
temper and recklessness,--he came stamping and cursing; and jumping
from the car on to the tender, he drew a pistol, and cried out,
"Where is that cursed engineer, that did this pretty job? I'll shoot
him the minute I lay eyes on him."
I threw up my six-shooter so that the light of the lantern shone
upon it, while he could see me but indistinctly, if at all, and said
with deliberation, "Colonel Williams, if you raise your pistol you
are a dead man; don't stir, but listen to me. I have done just what
any man must have done under the circumstances. I stopped the train
as soon as possible, and I'll convince you of it, if you are a
reasonable man; but not another word of shooting, or you go down."
"Don't shoot, don't shoot," he cried.
"Put up your pistol and so will I," I replied.
He did so, and came forward, and I explained the impossibility of
seeing the train sooner, as I had no head-light, and they had
carelessly neglected to leave a light on the rear of the other
train. I advised the choleric colonel to go forward and expend his
wrath and curses on the conductor of the forward train, that had
stopped in such a place, and sent out no signal-man in the rear, nor
even left a red light. He acknowledged I was right. I then informed
him that I was an officer in the ordnance department, and was in
charge of a shipment of ammunition for Bowling Green, and would have
him court-martialed when we reached there, unless he apologized for
the threats he had made. This information had a calming effect on
the colonel, who at heart was really a clever fellow. He afterward
came and begged my pardon; we shook hands cordially, and were good
friends.
Having settled this talk of shooting, and put the responsibility
where it belonged, we had time to look at the damage done by the
collision. It was nothing compared with what it might and would have
been, if we had been running at high speed. Even as it was, it
stirred up the sleeping men not a little. The front train contained
a regiment of men, most of whom were asleep, while the employees
were repairing an accident to one of the truck-wheels of a car. They
had it "jacked up,"' and had all the lights available, including the
one from the rear of the train, to aid in their repairs. When we
struck them they were driven ahead some thirty feet, and of course
their disabled car was still more damaged. Our men were all suddenly
waked up, and some of them slightly bruised. The colonel himself was
thrown down by the shock, but fortunately did not roll off the car,
and was but little injured; and there were no lives lost, except of
three of the horses. But we had a toilsome night of it. The
_débris_ of the three cars which had been smashed up was carried
back through the cut, between the train and the steep sides, and
thrown down into the gorge, off the trestlework. The dead horses
were drawn up the bank with ropes, and the front train put in
running order, after six hours of hard work by as many men as could
be employed in such narrow quarters. As the day broke, the forward
train moved off; in a few minutes more we followed, and reached
Paris by seven o'clock, A.M., December 18, 1861. Thus began and
ended my railroad-engineering in Rebeldom. At Paris they found a
professional runner, and I resumed my uniform, very thankful to get
out of the profession so creditably. Reader, the next time I run a
railroad train in such circumstances, may you be there to see it.
On the 19th of December I reached Bowling Green, and found there a
larger army than I had before seen,--65,000 men at least,--under
General Albert Sidney Johnson as commander-in-chief, with Generals
Buckner, Hardee, Hindman, and Breckenridge on the ground. Floyd
came within a few days, bringing about 7000 more. Others were soon
added, for on the 25th of December the commissary-general issued
96,000 rations, and by January 1, 1862, 120,000 rations a day. The
number of rations shows the whole number attached to the army in
every capacity.
During the month of December, sickness in the form of pneumonia and
measles became fearfully prevalent, and by the middle of January
one-fifth of the army was said to be in the hospital. The prevalence
of disease was attributed by the surgeons to the constant rains,
the warm winter, and incessant labor day and night on the
fortifications.
Though up to this time I had enjoyed uninterrupted good health, the
pneumonia now seized me violently; and after a week of "heroic
treatment," I was put into a box-car and started for the hospital at
Nashville. This was the dreariest ride of my life thus far. Alone,
in darkness, suffering excruciating pain, going perhaps to die and
be buried in an unhonored grave, my "Christmas" was any thing but
"merry." And yet the month following my arrival in Nashville was
the most pleasant, on many accounts, that I had yet spent in Dixie.
I was carefully and tenderly nursed by Drs. Stout and Gambling and
the ladies of Nashville, who showed the true woman's heart in their
assiduous care of the poor suffering men, prostrated by disease and
home-sickness. Some of the ladies were strong Secessionists; but I
thought then, as I believe now, that most of them, not all, would
have shown the same kindness to any suffering soldiers who might
have come under their notice. I knew my mother would be a Good
Samaritan to a dying Rebel; why should not they to wounded
Unionists.
In two weeks I was convalescent, and yet I daily exhausted my
returning strength by gaining a knowledge of the Nashville
founderies, machine-shops, bridges, capitol, industry, and whatever
I thought worth visiting.
At this juncture I also found an old friend of my father's, who with
his interesting family did much to make my days of recovery pleasant
days; supplying many little things which a soldier's wardrobe and
an invalid's appetite needed. How much of a Rebel he was I could
never exactly make out, but I think his regard for my family held
deep debate with either love or fear of the ruling authorities, to
settle the question whether he should aid me to reach home. At
least, there was not in what he said in our frequent interviews that
entire outspokenness which would have prompted me to make a
confidant of him; hence I made no headway toward escaping to the
North. Indeed, I considered it the only safe way, in talking with
him, to show a guarded zeal for the Southern cause, lest, if he were
a hearty Rebel, he might betray me. I am now inclined to the opinion
that I was too suspicious of him, and that he was at heart a Union
man. At all events, I shall ever be grateful for his kindness to me.
I may as well record at this point what I know of the moral and
religious efforts put forth in the South in behalf of the soldiers,
and the effect of the Rebellion on the educational and religious
interests of the people generally. As a general truth, when the
recruits first came to the army, those with religious inclinations
or who had pious friends, brought along a Bible or Testament, but
these were in most cases soon lost or left behind, and the camps
were almost destitute of any good books. Religious publications were
not distributed to the soldiers except in the hospitals, and to a
very limited extent there. The regiments composed of Irish or French
Catholics, usually had a priest as chaplain; but I saw very few of
the Protestant chaplains who gave themselves up to the spiritual
care of their men. We had a good many ministers in the army of the
Mississippi valley, but they almost all held a commission of a
military, rather than a religious kind, and so far as I could judge,
were fonder of warlike than of heavenly ministrations. In the
hospital at Nashville, on the other hand, good men and women
endeavored faithfully to present the truths of the Bible and the
consolations of religion to the attention of the inmates. But, as I
have hinted, the army was not much benefited by the clerical
members attached to it, though their loss may have been felt by the
churches they had forsaken. There were but few of what are called
Gospel sermons, preached in the army anywhere within my reach during
my soldier life. As a consequence of the inherently demoralizing
effect of war, and this great destitution of conserving influences,
vice reigned almost unrestrained in the army. The few good and
devout men, and the infrequent prayer-meetings which were held,
seemed powerless to restrain the downward tendency of morals.
Profanity, the most revolting and dreadful, abounded, though
contrary to the Articles of War, and many of the officers were
proficient in this vice. Gambling, in all the forms possible among
soldiers, was the main amusement on the Sabbath-day. These were the
prominent vices, and, if possible, they were growing more and more
monstrous continually.
As for the effect of the war upon the country generally, I can not
give many facts, though I had some opportunity of observation, as
will be seen. Preaching was maintained in most of the churches in
the large cities; but in many of the smaller places, and in country
churches, service was suspended. This was true so far as my
observation reached, and it must have been so in other places, from
the fact that so great a proportion of the men were engaged in the
war. And even where preaching was kept up, every sermon I heard was
embellished and concluded by a grand flourish, about the duty of
praying and fighting for their homes and institutions. This
universally belligerent spirit was evidently unfavorable to the
progress of true and consistent piety. Schools and seminaries of
learning were chiefly closed, and they were not very abundant
before. In fine, I think if this Rebellion continues a year or two
longer, the South will be a moral wilderness.