Following the American Civil War Sesquicentennial with day by day writings of the time, currently 1863.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Sunday, December 1, [1861]. — A dry, cold day, no sun, leaden sky, — threatens snow. About noon gets gusty, wintry and colder. No severe cold yet. Am preparing to have regular lessons and drills. P. M. Began to drizzle — a wintry rain. Loup Creek or Laurel, up yesterday, prevented our waggons crossing. Today fifteen wagons with food came in. Read Halleck’s “Lectures on the Science and Art of War.” Goodish. Youth, health, energy are the qualities for war. West Point good enough, if it did not give us so much of the effete.

December 1.—Dr Carr is dead. He had a stroke of paralysis two weeks ago and for several days he has been unconscious. The choir of our church, of which he was leader for so long, and some of the young people came and stood around his bed and sang, “Jesus, Lover of My Soul.” They did not know whether he was conscious or not, but they thought so because the tears ran down his cheeks from his closed eyelids, though he could not speak or move. The funeral was from the church and Dr Daggett’s text was, “The Beloved Physician.”

Sunday, 1st—We had a big snowstorm last night. It came my turn to go on camp guard for the first time. It takes some five hundred men to go around the camp.

Dec. 1st. Sunday. Spent in camp and at Uncle’s. Was paid off.

Post image for “You must be a true woman, for remember you are a soldier’s wife.”—Reminiscences of the Civil War by William and Adelia Lyon.

Letter from Captain Lyon to Mrs. Lyon.

“Sulphur Springs, Mo., Dec. 1, 1861.—The arrangements are not completed yet, but progressing. There is every reasonable probability that I shall be detailed on this service. The service is very distasteful to me. The prospect of returning home atones for the irksomeness of the service. I see by your letters that you are worrying about me. Now I tell you that I am perfectly comfortable physically. I have a good boarding place, at $3.00 a week. I sleep in my tent and never slept better. I have a feather bed, given to me at Indian Ford by one of the teamsters, who, I presume, stole it. I have plenty of blankets and straw. I enjoy the company of the officers. I have never regretted for one moment that I entered the service; and had I not done so, with my present views of duty I would volunteer tomorrow. The idea of personal danger to me, which haunts you so much, does not disturb me at all. You must be brave. You must be a true woman, for remember you are a soldier’s wife. Let us both be willing to peril all, if necessary, in the discharge of our duty.”

December 1st, 1861,

New Orleans.

Just completed another bundle of clothes for poor Claude, which we hope will reach him before Christmas, the other bundle having failed to reach him. Mrs. Brown (Mrs. Shepherd) went with me to Lyon’s to choose his coats and gloves. We have roasted some coffee and made some cake, which we have stuffed in his pillow. I wonder how long the poor boy’s head will lie peacefully on the latter. We have cut up our flannel double-gowns to make him shirts, as everything is so dreadfully high these blockade times. I have longed for money that I might send him many things to gladden both, his heart and those of his comrades, in their darksome little log huts at Manchac. We have done what we could, but have been cut off from further supplies, and have the troublesome spirit of proud people who will exist on a crust rather than ask help. I believe our friends would love us better if we were less proud. Went in Mrs. Brown’s carriage to the confectioner’s to-day for Claude’s cake—got out of sick bed to do so—called for Mrs. Brown, who went with us to the Southern Express office. There is a kind old man in there whom I love to hear speak of “Our Soldiers.” He refuses all freight except what is sent to our poor boys; he promises Claude shall have his things before Christmas. My heart turns so lovingly to our poor brother—shall I ever see him again? Will he die in battle, or will this wretched cough that keeps me awake at night and makes me feel so worn and weak in the morning, kill me before he can return a victorious soldier?

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 1

This has been a fine cool day, no frost but a fresh wind. Wife and the boys went to church. Julia went to the Episcopal church with Miss Hartly, it was Doct Pinckneys church. I have been in the house nearly all day reading &c. Went down town this evening, was at the “National” an hour or so, met several members of Congress who are here ready for the morrow. This will be a very important Session, the most important perhaps that has been convened for half a Century at least.

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The three diary manuscript volumes, Washington during the Civil War: The Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft, 1861-1865, are available online at The Library of  Congress.

December 1st.—A mixed party of American officers and English went to-day to the post at Great Falls, about sixteen or seventeen miles up the Potomac, and were well repaid by the charming scenery, and by a visit to an American military station in a state of nature. The captain in command told us over a drink that he was under arrest, because he had refused to do duty as lieutenant of the guard, he being a captain. “But I have written to McClellan about it,” said he, and I’m d—d if I stay under arrest more than three days longer.” He was not aware that the General’s brother, who is a captain on his staff, was sitting beside him at the time. This worthy centurion further informed us he had shot a man dead a short time before for disobeying his orders. “That he did,” said his sympathising and enthusiastic orderly, “and there’s the weapon that done it.” The captain was a boot and shoe maker by trade, and had travelled across the isthmus before the railway was made to get orders for his boots. A hard, determined, fierce “sutor,” as near a savage as might be.

“And what will you do, captain,” asked I, “if they keep you in arrest?”

“Fight for it, sir. I’ll go straight away into Pennsylvania with my company, and we’ll whip any two companies they can send to stop us.”

Mr. Sumner paid me a visit on my return from our excursion, and seems to think everything is in the best possible state.

December 1.—The schooner Albion, of Nassau, N. P., formerly the Lucy E. Waring, of Baltimore, Md., arrived at New York, a prize to the U. S. gunboat Penguin, which captured her while attempting to run the blockade of Charleston. She was laden with arms, ammunition, salt, fruit, provisions, oils, tin, copper, saddles, bridles, and cavalry equipments, and valued at one hundred thousand dollars. On the morning of the 25th nit, she was observed endeavoring to work into the inlet near Edisto Island, and after a chase of three hours was overhauled and captured. The schooner was in command of Captains Christy and Stevens, who admitted that they were residents of Savannah, Ga. They were also part owners of the vessel. The captains and crew were put on board the U. S. steamer Penguin. Master’s mate George N. Hood was put on board the Albion with a prize crew, and ordered to proceed North.

—This morning, a party of Union men from Whitley County, Ky., headed by George W. Lyttle, marched into the town of Huntsville, Tennessee, after having travelled through the night from Williamsburg, Ky., a distance of near fifty miles, and about twenty-five miles into the Southern Confederacy; tore down the flag of rebellion, erected the Stars and Stripes, and captured five rebel troops, and bore them in triumph to Camp Calvert, with a number of good horses and rigging, also some splendid fire-arms, knives, &c[1]

Those composing the little patriotic band, were R. Bird, Speed Faris, Samuel Freeman, J. W. Smith, Clint. Roe, Ples. Jones, Joe Cain, S. C. Cain, Wm. Ellison, Frank and Abel Bryant, G. W. Lyttle, S. Stanfield, Jeremiah Meadors, R. and J. Pemberton, and some others, making between twenty and thirty in number.—Frankfort (Ky.) Commonwealth, Dec. 9.

—A party of Unionists attacked the Confederate pickets at Morristown, East Tennessee, killing a large number of them, and putting the rest to flight.—Memphis Avalanche, Dec. 2.

—Simon Cameron, the Secretary of War, in his report, proposed that the limits of Virginia be so altered, as to make her boundaries consist of the Blue Ridge on the east, and Pennsylvania on the north, leaving those on the south and west as at present. Thus Alleghany and Washington counties, of Maryland, would be transferred to Virginia, while all that portion of Virginia lying between the Blue Ridge and Chesapeake Bay, could be added to Maryland, and that portion of the peninsula between the Chesapeake and the Atlantic, could be incorporated into the States of Delaware.


[1] The Knoxville (Tenn.) Register, Dec. 3, gives the following account of this affair:

This morning a band of Lincolnites from Kentucky, assisted by a number of tories of Scott County, entered the village of Huntsville, Tenn., and seized the persons of John L Smith, John Catlin, Calvin Smith, Sterling Smith, Joe Smith, and five others, whose names we could not procure, and immediately started with them to Kentucky as prisoners of war, at the same time taking about a dozen head of horses. All the gentlemen abducted were quiet, unoffending citizens, belonging to no military organization in the Confederate service. Their only crime was that they were secessionists. John L. Smith is a clerk, and master of the Chancery Court at Huntsville, at least seventy years of age, and is respected by all who know him in the very slightest degree, and the others abducted are equally esteemed. The party from whom we derived this information, Mr. William Anderson, was likewise captured by the marauders, but made his escape. He says he could not ascertain the precise number of the enemy. He saw about forty or fifty, but they represented their number at several hundred. They were piloted in by the somewhat notorious John H. Smith, who was released by the Confederate Court at Nashville, some time ago, upon his taking the oath of allegiance, and who forfeited his recognizance some days ago in the Confederate Court at this place, upon a charge of counterfeiting; John Baxter, of this city, being his security. He was assisted in this infamous raid by other tory residents of Scott County, among whom was Riley Cecil, another individual who was released by Major Folkerson, at Jamestown, last summer, upon making the strongest promises of good behavior toward the Confederate States.

Bird’s Point, Mo., December 1, 1861.

This, the beginning of winter, is the warmest and altogether the most pleasant day we have had for several weeks. During our whole trip to Bloomfield and back we had splendid weather, but ever since our return it has been at least very unsplendid. The climax was reached day before yesterday and capped with several inches of snow. I was up the river 15 miles at the time with a party loading a flatboat with logs for our huts. We had a sweet time of it and lots of fun. The mud was from six inches to a foot deep, and by the time we got the logs to the boat they were coated with mud two inches thick, and before we got a dozen logs on the boat we had a second coat on us, from top to toe of mud. It snowed and rained all the time we worked but I heard no complaint from the men, and in fact I have never seen so much fun anywhere as we had that day. There is any amount of game where we were, the boys said that were out, and they brought to camp several skinned “deer.” I tried some of the “venison” but it tasted strangely like hog.

Of course drill is discontinued for the present, and as working on the quarters is almost impossible we sit and lie in the tent and gas and joke and eat and plan devilment. We have a barrel of apples now, lots of pecans and tobacco and not a thing to trouble us. The enemy have quit coming around here and we can stroll six or seven miles without danger if we get past our pickets safely. There was a great deal of firing down at Columbus yesterday and I heard some more this morning. I don’t know whether the gunboats are down or not. It may be the Rebels are practicing with their big guns; or maybe they are firing a salute over the fall of Fort Pickens. It will be a great joke if they take that, won’t it? I believe myself that they will take it. Two of our new gunboats came down day before yesterday. We will have in all 12 gunboats, 40 flatboats carrying one mortar each and 15 propellers for towing purposes, besides the steamboats for transporting troops. Makes quite a fleet and will fill the river between here and Columbus nearly full. There are not very many troops here now. Only five regiments of cavalry and four or five batteries of artillery. Not over 12,000 in all. We have nearly 1,000 sailors and marines here now and they are such cusses that they have to keep them on a steamboat anchored out in the river. We see by the papers this morning that the fleet has captured another sand bar. A good one on the bar. We are greatly puzzled to know if we really are going down the river this winter. We are preparing winter quarters here for only 12,000 men. Now all these troops they are running into St. Louis cannot be intended for up the Missouri river, for the troops are also returning from there. I don’t believe either that they intend to keep them in St. Louis this winter for they have only quarters provided there for a garrison force, so I guess it must mean down the river, but am sure they won’t be ready before six weeks or two months. We have a report here that Governor Yates is raising 60 day men to garrison these points while we “regulars” will be pushed forward. Jem Smith is down here trying to get information of his brother Frank who is a prisoner. There are a good many Rebels deserting now. Our pickets bring them into camp. They are mostly Northern men who pretend they were pressed in and are glad to escape. Frank Smith is in Company A, Captain Smith’s company, at Paducah. It was Company B, Captain Taylor’s, that was in the Belmont fight. You could see just as well as not why I can’t come home if you’ll take the trouble to read General Halleck’s General Order No. 5 or 6, that says, “Hereafter no furloughs will be granted to enlisted men,” etc.

We had a first rate lot of good things from Peoria yesterday. They were sent us for Thanksgiving but were a day late. Chickens, cranberries, cake, etc. The boys say that a Rebel gunboat has just showed his nose around the point and Fort Holt is firing away pretty heavily, but I guess the boat is all in some chap’s eye. Hollins is down at Columbus with about a dozen vessels of war. I have just been out to see what the boys said was the pickets coming in on the run, but some say its only a gunboat coming up through woods, so I guess I’ll not report a prospect of a fight.