Item #9140 [Civil War-era manuscript journal of a young Boston woman.]. Frances Belinda Brigham.
[Civil War-era manuscript journal of a young Boston woman.]
[Civil War-era manuscript journal of a young Boston woman.]
[Civil War-era manuscript journal of a young Boston woman.]
[Civil War-era manuscript journal of a young Boston woman.]
[Civil War-era manuscript journal of a young Boston woman.]
[Civil War-era manuscript journal of a young Boston woman.]
[Civil War-era manuscript journal of a young Boston woman.]
[Civil War-era manuscript journal of a young Boston woman.]

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[Civil War-era manuscript journal of a young Boston woman.]

East Boston, Mass., 20 October 1861 to 31 December 1862. Sm 4to (10.25” x 8”), three quarters brown calf and marbled paper over boards. 273 numbered pp. manuscript in ink. Ownership inscription at front flyleaf: “Mademoiselle Frances Belinda Brigham. Easton Boston, Mass. From Father. Oct 18th 1861.” Inscription on first page: “Journal No. 3 Continued from Book No. 2.” CONDITION: Covers detached and worn at extremities, leather largely perished at spine; binding tight and contents very good.

An incredibly rich diary recording fourteen months in the life of a thoughtful and educated teenage girl in East Boston during the early stages of the Civil War, with consistent and detailed news of the conflict, reflections on its progress and its local effects, and of course the regular activities and extraordinary events—including meeting a handsome young Chippewa man—that texture daily life on the Massachusetts home front.

Born on February 20th, 1843, Frances Belinda Brigham was the daughter of Edward and Frances Tyler Brigham. She grew up in East Boston, where her father was the superintendent of a ferry, and died of tuberculosis at the age of twenty-three, just a few years after this journal was written. The volume offered here contains daily entries from late October of 1861 through New Year’s Eve of 1862 and provides an unusually clear window into the world of a young Union woman. Brigham follows the war closely, recording and reflecting on developments at the front and, as the conflict grinds on, its sharpening and increasingly personal effects at home, from poverty and currency shortages to the enlistment of a beloved cousin. Surrounding these updates are records of her social life (visits, dances, sleep-overs), her regular activities (Church, teaching Sabbath school, practicing music), and events of note (receiving letters from her enlisted pastor, having her daguerreotype taken, seeing a performance by renowned actor Edwin Forrest, enduring weeks of spring cleaning, and witnessing with horror the process and aftermath of a destructive fire). Occasional mentions of young men suggest she had suitors (“Mr. Coffin escorted me home”), and somewhat more frequent bouts of self-discontent show an edge of teenage angst to her otherwise cheerful and fun-loving personality (“Could I correct such misdoings with the comparative ease with which I write and converse upon them—how suddenly I should become perfect”).

Among the earliest Civil War battles that Brigham notes in this volume are the battles of Bolivar Heights and Santa Rosas Island, of which she comments on October 22nd, 1861: “I certainly do not see the necessity of these minor battles and skirmishes - why not approach each other at once? I presume I may as well answer as ask such a question.” The Battle of Balls Bluff, recorded a few days later, “occasioned considerable excitement among us at the North, and men were never so anxious to fight and go to war as at the present time. Their patriotic zeal & enthusiasm, in many cases, overcome their prudence.” On November 1st, she discusses the resignation of Gen. Winfield Scott and his replacement by Gen. McLellan (“May he prosper and succeed in overcoming the rebellion now existing”), and throughout the late fall and early winter she records developments in the Trent Affair, in which the Union intercepted the British mail packet RMS Trent and imprisoned two “embassadors of Seceshia,” James Murray Mason and John Slidell. On January 29th, she writes:

Mr. Sherriffs came in during the evening and imparted some very important information to us upon the ‘rebel ambassadors’ Mason and Slidell. Mr. S. had the esteemed and honored privilege of carrying them down the harbor in the tug-boat to the Rinaldo, in which they sailed for England. Some incidents concerning their departure from the fort to Provincetown were very amusing. Of their personal appearance, he spoke unfavorably, but better of Mason, whom he said was a perfect gentleman in his manners and address. Poor unfortunate Slidell lay upon his stomach ‘heaving up Jonah’ (to use a Boston phrase) all the way down. He asked ‘how much longer before they would arrive at a port’ he was told ‘one half hour’ with a very inelegant preface he replied ‘It has been that much ever since we started.’ He appeared very much out of health and was sick at the time of their departure, he appeared very reluctant to leave and at first declared he wouldn’t go, but finally acquiesced. He is quite old, long gray beard and very crusty, and withal, as rich as a Jew.…England now seems perfectly pliable & friendly to us, and have no desire to be at war. A good thing it is, that the honorable southern gentlemen were released.

Subsequent entries discuss the Burnside Expedition and the surrender of Fort Donelson in February, the capture of Nashville, the Battle of Hampton Roads, and the surrender of St. Augustine and Jacksonville, Florida in March, the capture of New Orleans and the impending Battle of Yorktown (“where is feared the bloodiest battle ever fought on this continent will take place”) in April, the rebel threat to Washington, D.C. during the Shenandoah Campaign in May (“Gov. Andrew issued a proclamation calling the entire state militia out on Boston Common, to be ready to march to Washington to defend the Capitol…The true spirit of old Massachusetts forefathers sticks right out. I am inclined to think there is far more excitement here than in Washington…”), the Battle of Fair Oaks in June, and so on throughout 1862. On August 30th, following the second Battle of Bull Run, she reflects:

I presume the great loss of life will encourage enlistments in a very great degree aside of the excitement caused by the time of drafting so rapidly approaching. Many doubtless will wait until the last moment expecting to hear that Massachusetts or Boston’s quota is filled. I can hardly blame them, tho’ I think if I were a man, I should have gone long ere this; and possibly I don’t know what I should do were I in such a situation. Oh such times it is indeed terrible to think of.

In between heady victories, rousing war meetings, and inspiring speeches, are, of course, periods of dejection. On July 21st, Brigham records bleak conditions nearer home, and her own discouraged feelings regarding Union progress:

Such a depressing effect as the war has brought upon the community is absolutely disheartening. Specie is so very scarce at present that postage stamps or tickets of any value are passed for money. Truly a deplorable state of affairs. This terrible crisis has been so far prolonged in the future that God only knows the result. Since our retreat from Richmond a large portion of the army are returning home, sick wounded & dying—and so many have been taken that our force is but where it was more than 6 months since. I fear volunteers enough will not be raised without drafting which will indeed be a sad but inevitable resort.

In August, her cousin Nelson decides to enlist:

I was surprised and I must say grieved…But I will not say a word—must not show my weakness at this critical period. He is so very firm and decided in whatever he undertakes, that I felt sure he would go, his mind seemed so bent on it. I asked him why he was so desirous to go and he replied with a nonchalant air that he had but once to die and that might as well be on the battle field as at home; and he thought much better in doing his duty. All he regrets is leaving his dear Mother to whom he [is] devotedly attached. He is very sensitive indeed, and at times allows himself to be very low spirited. But I endeavor to cheer him up as much as possible with a merry laugh and gay conversation.

This week is to be one of great excitement and enthusiasm. At 2 P.M. every day during the week all business is to be suspended—stores closed and a general war meeting upon Boston Common to encourage recruiting. The city bells are authorized to be run one hour each day to serve as summons for a grand citizens’ gathering.

Over the course of the next week, Nelson gives Brigham his ambrotype (“which I shall prize so much”), she works on his “Soldiers pocket companion, which is quite a convenient and necessary article in wartime,” and he reports to her the good news from his physical examination (“the physician…pronounced him to be the best formed and most able bodied man out of 113. I told him he should feel quite proud”), as well as his determination to “either win a name or return home dead. That is the right spirit with which to go—and if each & all possessed such feelings quick and fatal work would be made of this rebellion.”

Lincoln’s preliminary Emancipation Proclamation (issued on September 22nd, 1862) is, according to Brigham’s entry on the 27th, “the topic for conversation among the people, the enforcement of which is pleasing to abolitionists & offensive to the non-party. Of course all cannot be accommodated, neither pleased, but I think it would have given much better satisfaction had it gone into operation immediately (which of course would have prevented cavilling & unnecessary talk) instead of January next. I think that a very unwise decision.”

Brigham is as generous a diarist regarding her own sphere of activity as she is regarding the war. Entries describe her rich social life (“Lizzie Kimball, Nellie Sibley, and Cousin Nelson Sibley spent the afternoon and took tea with us…In the evening Lyman Kimball and Cousin Eugene Fay called…Friend Milly spent the evening with me. Katie spent the night with me”) as well as numerous dances, lectures, and performances (including a November 18th lecture by Edward Everett “on the ‘National Crisis’…I must confess that I never before listened to such a splendid knowledge imparting lecture, and to such unsurpassed eloquence. He never referred to notes, and such a retentive memory to be blessed with, I do consider remarkably miraculous”). She attends weekly church services (often noting the text upon which the sermon was based, and the arrival of letters from “Mr. Cudworth,” her enlisted pastor—“it seemed so sad to think perhaps we should never again hear from him”), and regularly records how much she enjoys teaching Sabbath school. (She also summarizes a lively debate with her Uncle about “the use of Sunday Schools in the universe”). Domestic pursuits are brief but regular features in the diary (practicing music, writing, and for several miserable weeks, spring cleaning), and, on at least a couple of charming occasions, she dwells upon her love for her bed: “I am ashamed to say we arose rather late, but I have an uncommon friendship for my wooden bedstead, and sometimes I prolong day into night, to enjoy the beautiful rest it affords. I trust I shall l always have that for my own, since connected with it are many pleasant reminiscences and associations. So many of my friends have slept upon it, and enjoyed with me good long conversations. But really this is a strange subject for a journal.”

A few entries contain content of racial interest, including St. Patrick’s day festivities (“A grand Irish procession was formed in the city and marched around the suburbs all day. Domestics of nearly every household were dismissed to enjoy the occasion. I am confident ours was, as I was obliged to officiate in her place”) and her disdain for Irish immigrants (on a visit to Stoughton, she notes “the disadvantages of a compound nation. I fear if emigration from Old Erin is indulged in as it has been her[e]tofore, we shall see a new Ireland made of America”), and her frustration at finding that a frightening smell of smoke was, in fact, “the effects of a Lager Beer Saloon in which was burning wood. I apprehend at some time we shall have a grand fire about here if that contemptible German nuisance isn’t abolished. Soon may it die. Requiscat in Pace.” 

Probably the most striking commentary in this vein is her account, in June, of meeting “an Indian of the Chippewa tribe”—quite possibly the same “Mr Cabay, a young Indian acquaintance” whom she mentions several months later, and who may be Joseph Cabay (Kewakezhig), a member of the Saginaw Band of Ojibwa who lived in Boston in the early 1860s:

I went to Church in the morning and Mr Bradlee preached a good sermon…As good as a sermon were the remarks made by an Indian of the Chippewa tribe, who addressed us to relate his experiences in the west as regards religion & christianity, and appealed to us for aid that he might continue the prosecution of his studies to go west in the capacity of missionary among his own tribe…I had the pleasure of an introduction and a shake of his hand. He has a fine education judging from his conversation and well drawn arguments, and personally very pleasing and attractive. He had the power of drawing tears, which I could not refrain from shedding.

In the afternoon I attended S. School, and the Indian again made his appearance, this time to interest and instruct the children. He made a lengthy speech which was so full of interest and wit that one could hardly tire of him. He had with him the bow and arrow, tomahawk and other Indian war implements which were really startling to look at. But he expressed a wish that he should never again have occasion to use them. I received a card from him which bears his peculiar indian name—together with the title he now assumes. I trust his mission may be realized.

Among the most entertaining events recorded is an October 28th, 1861 performance of renowned actor Edwin Forrest, which she sees with her father and her cousin: “Forrest, the great tragedian, I saw and heard for the first time—and I fell deeply in love with him. He acted as Othello in Shakespeare’s tragedy. It was very excellent indeed. It finished just in time for us to get the last boat at 12. We retired at 12.30, but had time enough however to perform a few touching gestures of Forrest.” 

One of the most horrifying events—apart from the war—is a terrible fire on February 24th:

At 9 an alarm was given of fire, and from the brilliant illuminations I thought our house was fired. I ran, screamed and yelled, but my fear was partially abated when I learned that the flames were farther in the West. I sat up until 12 writing, and after retiring, I could not rest, so violent and severe were the flames. The night was fearfully awful, the wind blowing a perfect hurricane, which augmented the fury of the flames. The Heavens were illuminated so brilliantly that with perfect ease and no difficulty one could see or read. Engines were of no avail for the fire would have its course, fortunately it didn’t commence in the West End of the city for it would have demolished everything. The fire spread with fearful rapidity until it consumed everything it encountered, to the waters edge. I slept but an hour all night, as Father & Brother Eddie were out and I felt very much frightened. I never shall forget such a night as this has been. It seemed as if the world had found its end. The Heavens a perfect flame, the streets thronged; the demolition & fall of ruins, the crackling of flames; and ringing of bells, was truly a magnificent spectacle and solemn sound.

In the wake of the destruction, she records her father’s labor “in repairing [the] Boston side so that their boats again may run in a few days. All E. Boston are obliged to patronize the New Ferry and some dislike it very much, feeling quite homesick to travel another route.” A day later still, her father hires a rowboat and takes her and several others to see the ruins: “We arrived safely and never did I see such a gloomy desolate place. I never should have recognized the place as the Eastern Avenue now a confused mass of ruins composed of nearly everything.” 

With the arrival of spring (albeit “very windy and blustering”) come dances, and in early March Brigham stays out most of the night, traipsing home—extremely footsore—at 4 in the morning. A sleepover a few weeks later finds her piled into her beloved bed with “Lizzie Kimball, Carrie Crosby and Milly”: “four in one bed was astonishing—such noises and screams was decidedly unbecoming in young ladies of our age and standing, yet when girls get together, every one knows what to expect.” During a visit to her uncle in Lancaster, she attends a Methodist camp meeting and acknowledges that “I do not think I consider enough upon the sober & religious realities of life. I am too gay altogether, and what to do I am at a loss to know. I have been so wild since I came here that I don’t know what the inhabitants think of me. I act like some bird just liberated but I must improve and become more dignified.” Indeed, in one of several entries ruminating upon her personal failings, Brigham complains of herself that:

my bump of obstinacy and self will seem considerably swollen. I am also apt to prolong an unnecessary conversation merely to gratify my obstinate and retaliatory propensities. Would I could improve in them or do away with them. The fact is, I am unusually headstrong and am sorry to say, when I discover that I’m in the wrong, refuse decidedly, emphatically and obstinately to acknowledge it. I think the above mentioned are my most prominent faults, and I sincerely believe they are strengthening with my growth. I pray they may not be confirmed in my character, for truly I should be sorry to be such a woman forever.

The diary maintains a steady degree of detail—not to mention impeccable handwriting—throughout its almost 275 pages. Final entries describe Brigham’s successful organization of a surprise birthday party for her father’s 49th birthday and mention putting together a package for her cousin Nelson at the front: “Received a short note from Cos. Nelson stating that he was going to battle immediately…He has enough of war already and I can fully imagine he did, as is the case with many of the volunteers. Sad enough it is to see our young men thus sacrificed in such a deadly conflict and all for the confounded negro. It makes me absolutely provoked and that is all about it.” The volume closes with Brigham’s welcoming in the new year (1863), and praying for the end of “this cruel civil contest.”

A substantive diary documenting the daily experiences and reflections of a young Union women in Boston in 1861 and 1862.

Item #9140

On Hold

Price: $4,750.00

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