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

Sunday, January 1, 2012

January 1st 1862

This has been a warm pleasant day, rather too warm in the middle of the day with an overcoat on. Called in the morning upon Rev J C Smith, our pastor, and went from there up to the Presidents, found an immence crowd there outside. Could not get in on account of the crowd, found my Jersey City friend J Burrows Hyde there. We left and began our calls on the Secys, Mr Seward first, Cards rcd below four policeman at the Door. Cards rcd below and the Reception upstairs. Mr S., Frederick S. & Lady name announced at the parlor door. Mr S in good spirits and received us very cordialy. No refreshments at any of the Secretaries. Called next upon Comodore Wilkes of the San Jacinto. Then Sec’y of War, D[itt]o Navy, and all the rest of the Cabinet officers. Then at Genl McClellans, he was sick, confined to his room. Genl Blenker and Staff in the most Brilliant Uniforms I have seen today. Went the “rounds.” Refreshments were furnished at all the houses of those who rcd calls, the “ardent” generaly found. I called upon Comr Holloway before I came home. Col Merrick was not able to go out with me today. There was a heavy cannonading heard last night and it was thought that there was certainty [sic] a “fight” over the River. It proved to be a wake up of a German Regt for the New Year. It is said that they sent over and purchased 150 lbs powder and 200 kegs of “Lager” for the occasion. The Regt of “Lancers” presented a marked feature of the day in the City as it marched through. Lances about 9 ft long, carried upright with a small red flag to each, 1000 strong. Went down 7th street with Willie after his Magic Lantern. Got home after dark. Willie & “Tad” Lincoln were here to dinner and the boys H N & Holly went home with them. The day has passed off pleasantly and peacefully all over the City.

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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.

Jan. 1st. Wrote, rode and read some. In the morning went over to Company I’s quarters. Wrote to Ella Clark. Made some resolutions for the future.

A Dull Day.

Jan. 1, 1862. The new year is ushered in with a light fall of snow and very cold weather. There is just snow enough to prevent drills or any sports the boys may have been anticipating. Altogether the day will be a dull one. The sutler, anticipating our removal, has not much to sell or steal. The sutler is regarded as the common enemy of the soldier, and when forced contributions are levied on him it is considered entirely legitimate and rather a good joke. The boys will have to content themselves with card playing and writing letters home. We have just got a new stove running in my tent, and Long Tom is detailed today to supply it with wood. I think we shall make a comfortable day of it, if Tom does his duty. Things certainly begin to look like leaving; the harbor is full of vessels, transports, gunboats and supply ships. Appearances indicate that somebody will hear it thunder somewhere along the southern coast before very long.

Camp Union, Fayetteville, Virginia, Wednesday, New Year’s Day, 1862. — Sun shone brightly an hour or two; mild winter weather, then windy and threatening. Rode with Colonel Scammon four or five miles southwest of town. Wind blew all day as if a storm were by brewing, but no rain or snow. I set it down as a pleasant day. Number 1 for January 1862.

At dinner, speaking of naming my boy, I said: “The name was all ready if I had heard that a daughter was born.” “Fanny Lucy” or “Lucy Fanny” — linking together the names of the two dear ones, wife and sister. Dear Fanny! what an angel she was, and, may I hope, now is.

Heard from home. Sergeant [John] McKinley, with letter and watch — tight, drunk, the old heathen, and insisting on seeing the madame! I didn’t dream of that. He must be a nuisance, a dangerous one too, when drunk. A neat, disciplined, well-drilled soldier under rule, but what a savage when in liquor! Must be careful whom I send home.

Wednesday, 1st—I am back with the company again. The boys are having a big chicken dinner today, Lieutenant Compton having bought four dozen chickens and presented them to the company for a New Year’s dinner.

Lord Lyons has evinced the most moderate and conciliatory spirit, and has done everything in his power to break Mr. Seward’s fall on the softest of eider down. Some time ago we were all prepared to hear nothing less would be accepted than Captain Wilkes taking Messrs. Mason and Slidell on board the San Jacinto, and transferring them to the Trent, under a salute to the flag, near the scene of the outrage; at all events, it was expected that a British man-of-war would have steamed into Boston, and received the prisoners under a salute from Fort Warren; but Mr. Seward, apprehensive that some outrage would be offered by the populace to the prisoners and the British Flag, has asked Lord Lyons that the Southern Commissioners may be placed, as it were, surreptitiously, in a United States boat, and carried to a small seaport in the State of Maine, where they are to be placed on board a British vessel as quietly as possible; and this exigent, imperious, tyrannical, insulting British Minister has cheerfully acceded to the request. Mr. Conway Seymour, the Queen’s messenger, who brought Lord Russell’s despatch, was sent back with instructions for the British Admiral, to send a vessel to Providence town for the purpose; and as Mr. Johnson, who is nearly connected with Mr. Eustis, one of the prisoners, proposed going to Boston to see his brother-in-law, if possible, ere he started, and as there was not the smallest prospect of any military movement taking place, I resolved to go northwards with him; and we left Washington accordingly on the morning of the 31st of December, and arrived at the New York Hotel the same night.

To my great regret and surprise, however, I learned it would be impracticable to get to Fort Warren and see the prisoners before their surrender. My unpopularity, which had lost somewhat of its intensity, was revived by the exasperation against everything English, occasioned by the firmness of Great Britain in demanding the Commissioners; and on New Year’s Night, as I heard subsequently, Mr. Grinell and other members of the New York Club were exposed to annoyance and insult, by some of their brother members, in consequence of inviting me to be their guest at the club.

RINALDO, Provincetown Harbor, January 1, 1862.

[Lord LYONS, Washington.]

MY LORD: I have the honor to inform your lordship that I left New York on the 30th ultimo and arrived at Provincetown early this morning, and waited until evening when Messrs. Mason and Slidell and companions came on board from an American tug-boat from Boston.

According to your lordship’s instructions I received them without form or ceremony.

Although the barometer is falling considerably I intend putting to sea at once and making the best of my way to Halifax.

I have, &c.,

W. HEWETT.

P. S.–The gentlemen remarked that their only wish was to proceed to Europe.

W. H.

New Year’s [1862]. Took dinner with Mrs. Norton. Miss Betty Callender and Doctor Richardson the only strangers present. Mrs. Chilton keeping us all alive. Dr. R. has some machine on hand with which he intends to blow up Federal rebels. It is highly approved by all who have seen it. In the evening, Edmund (or Edward) Harrison, whom they all call “Duck,” came in. He has lately returned from Europe; he was studying at Bonn, but our Southern troubles have brought him home. He is a quiet, modest young man; though his father is so rich, he is retiring in dress and deportment and seems to have no desire beyond a quiet room and a book. He does not represent the idea of “young America” in the least. He is in love, I think, with his pretty cousin, S. C, who is altogether unsuited to him, being fond of admiration and the world generally.

Lizzie Ogden, speaking of her brother Billy, now in the Confederate States Army as lieutenant, says, that as an officer, he has been let into the secret of Beauregard’s plans, which he, Billy, thinks excellent—said brother not being twenty. The mingled pride and simplicity of this speech made me laugh—in my sleeve—though I would not hurt Lizzie’s feelings for the world.

Everybody sending blankets to our soldiers. We have sent all of ours except two thin ones. Mrs. Chilton and I go to the Ladies’ Sewing Society and bring home bundles of work to do for the soldiers.

Free market kept up by contribution. Planters all over the county send in to support it. The poor, it seems, are quite fastidious; some scenes in the free market are quite ludicrous. Some of the women, if told they cannot gratify some particular taste, refuse all that is offered; for instance, one became angry a few days ago because presented with black tea instead of green, and another finding no coffee turned up her nose at all the other comfortable items which the market contains. Some women, they say, curse their benefactors heartily when disappointed. Coffee they had at first, but blockade times have changed this once familiar berry into something resembling gold beads. Cleopatra, with her pearls, was scarcely more “wastefully given” than a coffee drinker in these days. Strange to say, I have not relished it for years until now. I have not parted with my tea yet, though I dole it out somewhat less lavishly than in old times when tea caddies were as “plenty as blackberries,” rather more so in New Orleans.

Mrs. Chilton, going up to Hinds County, begs us to go with her, but there is something in our own little home which we cannot give up. We are so lonely-hearted, so wasted by early afflictions; anxious, nervous years and desolating losses, that we have nothing of feeling or interest to interchange with any, even those we approve.

Gave Mrs. Chilton a little supper the very night before she left. Mrs. Montgomery without the Judge (no gentlemen invited), Mrs. Norton, Mrs. Parham, Sarah C, Mary Lou Harrison and Mrs. Dameron were the guests. Mr. Dameron came, not knowing gentlemen were interdicted. Charley Chilton came in after awhile, and Mr. Parham sent word that it was very unkind to admit but one of the “Confederate Guards.” Amused Mrs. Montgomery and several others with a trick with a key and a book which told the fortune accurately of everyone present. If I had found the philosopher’s stone, it could not have given more general satisfaction, I believe. Wanted to keep Mrs. Chilton for a good-bye late talk, but Mrs. Norton hurried her off.

January 1, 1862 — New Year’s Day, and orders to go to Dam No. 5, with Ashby’s cavalry. This was a bright sunny day, but a cold west wind made it disagreeable marching. This evening we are camped in a field near Dam No. 5, with cold beef, bread, and plenty of good water, and an old barn full of soft downy hay to sleep in to-night, all of which brightens the cheer of the glad New Year.

This is a beautiful bright night. The moon hangs in a clear sky, and it is nearly as light as day. A few tiny fragments of dissolving clouds, that look like little bunches of snowy lace, are scudding across the azure dome chasing each other toward the gates of morning. Now as I am ready for my soldier bed, the wintry wind is howling fiercely around the old barn, the pickets are firing along the river not far away, a memorable hymn for the natal day of 1862.

A great day of sport to usher in the new year. Amongst other amusements in our army, Hancock’s Brigade “got up a time on its own hook.” At twelve o’clock I went into the parade ground, and found about 10,000 people, soldiers and civilians, collected to witness the sport. Hancock’s Brigade is composed of the 5th Wisconsin, 6th Maine, 43d New York, and 49th Pennsylvania Volunteers. The sport commenced by a foot race of one thousand yards, purse $20 for the first out, $10 for second. About twenty started. The 5th Wisconsin took both prizes. Then jumping three jumps, prize $15, won by a member of the 5th Wisconsin. Next, climbing a greased pole, first prize won by a member of 6th Maine. Second, by 5th Wisconsin. Next, a greased pig (a two hundred-pounder) with a face as long as the moral law, or as a “speech in Congress, shorn of his hair, the knot which had been tied in his tail to prevent his crawling through fence cracks, was untied, and his whole skin thoroughly ” greased” with soft soap, was turned loose, with the announcement, “get what you can, and hold what you get.” The holder was to have the pig and ten dollars. For this prize, there were about four thousand competitors. The word was given, and the “Grand Army of the Potomac ” was at last on the move. This chase commenced a little before sun-set. Pig had one hundred yards the start. One fellow far outran all the rest, and as he drew close on to his game, piggy suddenly turned on him with a “booh,” and the fellow ran t’other way as if he had seen a rebel. The whole crowd came rushing on piggy, expecting him to run; but piggy stood his ground and said “booh!” “The front line ” suddenly brought a halt. But the rear, not prepared for so sudden a check, pressed forward, and the whole came down in a heap. A scream of “murder.” Piggy answered “booh.” At every “booh” a “line was swept away.” The pile of humanity became impassable. Those in the rear, filed to right and left, and by a “flank movement” took piggy in the rear. And now came a hand to hand encounter. As the last streak of the expiring day shed its light upon the excited combatants, it revealed a living mass of four thousand people—and a pig ; the pig crowning the heap at the moment when the ray withdrew its light. Night was then made hideous by the screams of murder and replies of “booh.” Neither party could distinguish friend from foe; and as I retire for rest, the combat still rages. I I do not permit myself to doubt, however, that the morning will bring us the news of “another great victory by the grand army of the Potomac.”[1]

At twelve o’clock last night, just as the old year was being crowded out of existence to make room for the new, I was awoke by a gentle thumbing of a guitar. ‘Twas right at the door of my tent. In a moment commenced at the other end of the tent, the soft, sweet notes of a violin ; then, from all sides came up, low, soft, sweet sounds, as ever a band of small instruments poured forth. The music stopped for awhile, and a voice asked, “Shall we now strike up with the band?” “No! no! No drum, nor fife, nor horn;— they will disturb the sick, and he will not like that!!” Could a more delicate compliment than was-conveyed in this remark have been devised by a soldiery whose business is pomp and noisy war! ” He won’t like it—it will disturb his patients.” I appreciated this. It struck a cord which vibrated in unison with my pride, my vanity, my ambition. I of course acknowledged it; and so deeply felt the compliment that I record it, as worthy of my remembrance. “The hospital boys” got up a handsome supper to-night, at which the Surgeons were guests. It was a very pretty supper, and to me a pleasant affair.


[1] Notice that in this athletic contest for prizes, three Eastern and one Northwestern Regiment engaged ; all the prizes save one (climbing the pole, which was taken by a Maine sailor) were carried off by the one Western Regiment.