26th. Arrived at Hudson, Mo., midnight. Next morning, Sunday, reshipped men and horses and left in the freight cars at nine P. M.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Jan. 26. Quite a number of boats have been hauled off, and are now lying in the sound. They are still at work on the Eastern Queen, which seems to be as firmly imbedded in the sand as were her timbers in the soil in which they grew. The steamer Louisiana, with the 6th New Hampshire aboard, lies high and dry on the shoal, and it will be a job to get her off, but I reckon she will have to come, or come to pieces. When half a dozen big steamers get hold they make a pretty strong team, and something has got to come or break. I learn she is hogged, whatever that is. I shouldn’t be surprised if she was, if she has been well supplied with this gull bait they call pork.
We had religious services this morning and afternoon, the first we have had since leaving Annapolis. We had excellent singing, and the chaplain’s remarks were well timed and to the point. He recounted the dangers and troubles, which under the blessing of God, we have been brought through, and spoke words of cheer and comfort for the future.
January 26 — This morning we received orders to go with Ashby’s Cavalry on a scout. At nine o’clock we were on the march. We went up the Winchester pike ten miles to Bunker’s Hill. There we left the pike and came by Smithfield to Charlestown, where we arrived after dark. We are quartered in the Court House. This is the town where the insurrectionist, John Brown, obtained a permit to paddle his canoe across the Styx.
Sunday 26th
Rather pleasant today. Went out to church in the morning with Julia & the Boys. Wife went in the afternoon. Met Ed Dickerson & took him to church. The two Lincoln boys were here after our boys to go up there to see their new poney. Our boys could not go on Sunday. Ed D. came home with wife and staid to tea. Mr VanMaster & Lady and Mrs Alexander Williams of Lyons came in and staid a couple of hours. They are down at Browns Hotel.
______
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.
Sunday, 26th—We had preaching in our quarters this forenoon and in the evening a few gathered for prayer meeting. Our quarters were not very inviting for a minister. There was no tuning fork for the music and we had no chairs, most of the boys standing during the preaching.
To Mrs. Lyon
Camp Cairo, Cairo, Ill., Sunday a. m., Jan. 26, 1862.—The weather is fine, mud all dried up, and we drill every day four hours. The health of the men is good, except some diarrhœa occasioned by drinking the river water. This water looks like weak coffee with milk in it, it is so muddy, but it tastes very well. I do not drink any of it. My drink is almost entirely coffee. I keep out of the night air and take every possible care of my health, and with entire success. When warm weather comes there will be a good deal of ague here.
Sunday, [January] 26.— A lovely winter day, frozen in the morning, warm and thawing before noon. Inspected with Adjutant Avery the quarters; creditably clean. Feel happy today; fine weather, good health, the probable victory over Zollicoffer, the prospect — this chiefly — by next Sunday of seeing my darling Lucy and the boys — “all the boys.”
A pleasant trip with Lieutenants Avery and Ellen and two riflemen of Company B to Long Point, with its romantic views of New River. The only dash to this pleasure is the report that my friend Bob McCook is seriously wounded. Later, not seriously only gloriously wounded. Good! He and I were friends before the war and more intimately since. His regiment and ours also fraternized very cordially — Yankees and Germans. Sperry went to Raleigh last night with Company B.
January 26.—We went to the Baptist Church this evening to hear Rev. A. H. Lung preach his last sermon before going into the army.
Winchester, January 26, 1862.
We left Romney on Thursday, and after three days we reached, on yesterday evening, our present encampment, two miles from Winchester. To-day I received your grumbling letter of 21st, in which you were bitter over my bad usage in being refused a furlough. The only matter of surprise with me is that I ever lost my temper about it, as I came to the conclusion long ago that there was no use in grumbling about anything in the army, and it was always best to bear in patience whatever happens us, with a becoming sense of gratitude that it is no worse. I think we shall remain at rest here until spring, no one being more thoroughly disgusted with a winter campaign than Jackson himself from the fruits of our expedition to Romney. Echols’ furlough expires nine days hence, and then, I think, I may safely promise myself the happiness of a visit home to enjoy for a while the loved society of wife and little ones, from whom I have been so long separated. For a while only, Love, as my duty will require me to leave you soon again. I wish to pursue such a course as will give me hereafter a good opinion of myself and the good opinion of my neighbors, and neither is to be won by shrinking from the dangers and hardships of a soldier’s life when the safety of his country requires him to endure them. But for this, the titles and applause to be won by gallantry upon the field could never tempt me from home. Would you have me return there the subject of such conversation as has been freely lavished upon those who remained behind and others who turned their backs on country and comrades? I think not.
I don’t think, Love, you would know me if you could see me just now. I think I am dirtier than I ever was before, and may be lousy besides. I have not changed clothes for two weeks, and my pants have a hole in each leg nearly big enough for a dog to creep through. I have been promising myself the luxury of soap and water all over and a change of clothes to-day, but the wind blows so hard and cold I really think I should freeze in the operation. I am afraid the dirt is striking in, as I am somewhat afflicted with the baby’s complaint—a pain under the apron. I am not much afraid of it, however, as I succeeded in getting down a good dinner, which with me is generally a sign of pretty fair health. Now, Love, I will bid you good-bye, as it is very cold and uncomfortable writing, leaving the last side of my sheet unwritten.
JANUARY 26TH.–President Tyler has been elected to Congress by an overwhelming majority.
