28th. After forty hours reached Weston at two P. M. Fed, watered and marched for Platte City at six P. M. Five letters. Major was fired at.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
A Stranger.
Jan. 28. Work is still going on, getting the boats off and getting them across the bar. The Eastern Queen is afloat and will be with us today. The little steamer Pilot Boy, with Generals Burnside and Foster aboard, is flying around among the vessels of the fleet, giving orders to the boat commanders and commanders of troops. The sutler came aboard today; he is quite a stranger and the boys gathered around him, asking him a thousand questions. He brought with him a small stock of fruit and other notions which went off like hot cakes at any price which he chose to ask. Some of the boys thought the prices pretty high, but they should consider that it is with great difficulty and expense that things are got here at all. They have the advantage, however, in not being obliged to buy, if they think the charges too much. The Eastern Queen is coming across the swash, the bands are all playing and cheers are going out from all the fleet.
Camp Porter, Va., Jan. 28, 1862.
Dear Cousin L.:—
I returned from the picket lines yesterday and found your pleasant letter of the 24th awaiting me. If you were in Camp Porter about 5 p. m. when that plastic individual that the boys call “Putty” arrives with the daily mail, and could see the interest with which his proceedings are watched as he distributes the spoils, your fears of burdening me with an extensive correspondence would soon vanish. I never thought so much of letters as I have since I have been here. The monotony of camp life would be almost intolerable were it not for these friendly letters. We do not expect much news, but they are like the delightful small-talk that does so much to make time pass agreeably in society. The worst feature of camp life is its influence upon the mind and character. The physical discomfort, hard fare, etc., I can endure very well, but I sometimes shrink from the moral or immoral influences that cluster round the soldier. The severe physical exercise is so fatiguing that but little disposition is felt to exercise the mind in anything that is beneficial. Everything that requires close or long-continued thought is excluded from the common soldier’s tent and he usually settles down to the conviction that all he needs is enough to keep himself posted in the news of the day and a little light reading. Thus the stronger mental faculties are unused and of course they rust. Another evil is the absence of all female society. The roughest characters are always to be found in the army, and. the restraint of home and more refined friends removed, those who are better disposed are exposed to the influence of such characters without remedy. Our associations go far to mould our characters, and as a constant dropping wears away the stone, this influence must have its effect. The cultivation of the finer feelings of the heart is neglected and they too are not developed. The pure and elevating influence of music is lost. I am passionately fond of music (although a poor singer) and I miss this as much as any one thing. The music of the field is the fife and drum or the brass band, and the songs sung in camp are not at all remarkable for beauty or purity.
With all these drawbacks there are many pleasant times in the soldier’s life. One of these is when he is the recipient of letters like yours; they speak to him in louder tones than those of the press or pulpit and bid him resist these evil influences and keep himself pure; they atone in a measure for the absence of friends and remind us that they are watching to see if we do our duty, and feel interested in our welfare. You need never fear burdening me with letters.
I fear that, if all the guide you had was my most graphic description of myself, I might pass you in Broadway ten times a day without recognition. I might say, however, that I am of the “tall and slender” order. Five feet nine is about my height, and one hundred and thirty-five pounds my weight. I am set down in the army description book as having brown hair and blue eyes, and, I might add, of very ordinary appearance.
I see you are a thorough abolitionist. I am glad of it. I thought I hated slavery as much as possible before I came here, but here, where I can see some of its workings, I am more than ever convinced of the cruelty and inhumanity of the system. It has not one redeeming feature. I was on picket duty last Sunday and some seven of us went out a mile or so beyond the lines on a little scouting party. I stopped at a little cabin near the Leesburg turnpike to get some dinner. I found an intelligent and cleanly mulatto woman in the house, surrounded by quite a number of bright little children. She promised me the best she had, and while she was preparing some hoecake and bacon, I entered into conversation with her and she was quite communicative. She was a slave, she said, so was her husband and the children. Her master was in the rebel army and she was left in charge of her mistress, who lived in a respectable house across the way. Her husband had been taken about a month ago to work on the fortifications at Leesburg. He had, at first, refused to go with his master and was most brutally beaten. She showed me the post where he was tied up and told the story with an earnestness that nothing but actual experience can give. I talked long with her and told her I hoped this war would result in giving her and all of her class their freedom. “I hope so, Massa,” said she, “but I dunno, I dunno.” I had a little Sunday-school paper that I took out with me from camp. I read some of the stories to the children and gave them the paper. How their eyes sparkled as they saw the pictures! But the reading was Greek to them. The mother said: “I would study ten years if I could read like you, Massa; a black woman taught me some letters, but Massa Blaisdell took my spellin’ book away and whipped me and he said ‘larnin’ wasn’t for niggers.”” This is “the land of the free and the home of the brave.”
We are still at Hall’s Hill, and as far as I can see likely to stay here. No movement can be made while the roads are in such a state.
28th.—To-day I was admitted as a witness to the arcana of a field Court Martial, and of all the ridiculous farces in the name of justice, to excite mirth, indignation, pity, and disgust, commend me to a field Court Martial. I will not spoil the ludicrous impression left on my mind, by any attempt to describe the scenes I witnessed to-day. The grey goose has yet to be hatched which can furnish the pen capable of even approximating it. Oh, talent of Barnum! How does it happen that in all your searches after the wonderful and the curious, you have overlooked that nondescript of wonders, a field Court Martial? Strike quickly on this hint, and there is a fortune ahead.
Tuesday 28
Rain today and the streets again in a bad condition. Mr Fenwick and Lady, Miss Lucy Munson (Mrs Fenwicks Sister), and Mr Cobb spent the evening here. Mr VanMaster & Lady, Mis Williams and Ed Dickerson call[ed] in a carriage for Julia to go with them to the Presidents Levee, so she got ready while the ladies waited for her (in the house) and went. There is no particular news in the papers tonight. Everything seems to move along as usual. Genl Burnside has at last been heard from at Hatteras Inlet. One vessel & cargo lost in the Storm last week. Three lives also lost (officers), Col Allen, a Surgeon, and Mate.
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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.
Tuesday, 28th—One of the Missouri boys who enlisted in our company while at Jefferson City asked me to go with him to spend the evening with a family about two miles out, where there were three or four young ladies. One of the young women was his best girl and he wished to bid her goodby before we left for the South. He assured me that we would have plenty of good things to eat and that there would be no danger, and so I finally decided that it would be safe to go. We had a very enjoyable time and about midnight started for our quarters, running all the way.[1]
[1] We arrived safely at our quarters, but I made up my mind never again to take such a trip while in the enemy’s country.—A. O. D.
January 28 — Early this morning we started toward Harper’s Ferry, through a cold and drenching rain. We got wet, and our clothes were stiff with ice, which put us in a first-class condition for fight — as wet hens fight well.
When we got to Bolivar near the Ferry the rain had ceased, but a heavy mist hung like a lacy pall over the river, through which we could dimly discern a Yankee encampment on the Maryland side, and near the canal I saw the bluecoats moving around among the tents, and from all appearances they were preparing breakfast. We went to the lower end of Bolivar and silently turned into a lot on the left of the street near a brick house and put our guns in position unobserved by the enemy.
We opened fire and landed a live twelve-pounder in their camp, which proved to be a regular surpriser. It stirred up the whole camp in general and stopped the breakfast business short off. I saw the men rush out of their tents, gazing about for a moment to ascertain where the unwelcome, noisy visitor hailed from. Just then we repeated the dose with another twelve-pound percussion shell.
They seemed then to comprehend that we meant business. They had also located our position, and hastily seizing their long-ranged rifles they ran hurriedly down the hill to the canal, some of them behind trees along the river, and opened fire on us. We were in range of their rifles, for I heard the dull thud of the bullets as they struck the ground around us. We fired five rounds, and then retired from our exposed position. After we ceased firing I heard it thunder over on Maryland Heights, and I also heard a few nailkegs whiz fearfully through the air. The Yanks had a battery of heavy rifled guns — twenty-four-pounders, I think — in position halfway up the mountain on the Maryland side, from which they fired some eight or ten rounds. They did not fire at our battery, but threw all their shell to our right; I suppose at some of Ashby’s cavalrymen. After the firing all ceased we returned to Charlestown, and are again quartered in the Court House.
The natural scenery around Harper’s Ferry is strikingly grand and picturesque. There the bright waters meet and laughingly lave the foot of a disrupted mountain. The Loudoun Heights spring from the right bank of the Shenandoah, like a mighty giant adorned in the sylvan garb of primeval splendor, and lifts its rocky crest far above the murmuring rapids of the river, and watches the Daughter of Stars mingle its limpid waters with the River of Swans. On the opposite side of the Potomac Maryland Heights lifts its craggy head still higher and pushes boldly out its adamantine breast till it almost overhangs the rushing river, and like a faithful sentinel it ever guards the single gateway that permits the waters of the Shenandoah and Cumberland valleys to pursue their winding way to the sea.
Bolivar Heights, with its Jefferson’s Rock apparently hanging in the air, lends enchantment to the scene of rippling silvery waters rushing around huge boulders in the river, and a rifted mountain with its rugged breach and delectable environments, where nature revels in her wildest beauty.
Eliza to Joe Howland.
January 28.
My only letter by the mail last night was from Major Crane, about some of the patients of his Division who came down the Potomac in a wretched condition on a canal boat some time ago. He is going to do his best to find out who is responsible and prefer charges, and he wants us to help. Don’t mention this, as we shall do it as quietly as possible, but also as thoroughly. . . . We hear every now and then of some new abuse among the surgeons, regular and volunteer,—for instance: Mr. Hopkins told us of one poor fellow of a Vermont regiment who was brought to the hospital in Alexandria with typhoid fever, having both feet frozen and one of them eaten by rats! It is too horrible to think of, but I tell you that you may understand why we feel so strongly on the subject. Good old Dixie hearing of the story went at once to McClellan and told him, and he sent an officer to find out all the facts and bring the responsible person to justice. . . .
The Miss Schuylers went down with us to Alexandria to-day and we showed them through the Hospitals, much to the delight of the nurses.
We have gone into the pension business too! and are going over to Mr. Wrage’s camp to arrange about getting the necessary papers for a poor woman who is applying for a pension and wrote to G. about it. We knew her and her husband here in one of the hospitals and she has the most implicit faith in G’s power and influence.
JANUARY 28TH.– There must soon be collisions in the West on a large scale; but the system of lying, in vogue among the Yankees, most effectually defeats all attempts at reliable computation of numbers. They say we have 150,000 men in Tennessee and Kentucky, whereas we have not 60,000. Their own numbers they represent to be not exceeding 50,000, but I suspect they have three times that number. The shadows of events are crowding thickly upon us, and the events will speak for themselves—and that speedily.
January 28.—In the United States Senate a petition from citizens of Illinois, asking Congress not to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, and asking for the expulsion of members who advocate it, was presented by Mr. Saulsbury, of Delaware
A resolution was offered by Mr. Foster, of Connecticut, and adopted, asking the Secretary of the Treasury whether any further legislation is necessary in order to take charge of the cotton and other lands of South-Carolina, now in possession of the Government, and to place them under cultivation, and also in relation to the blacks in these localities.
—Reconnoissances from Port Royal, S. C, having discovered the fact that the Savannah River, Ga., could be entered some distance above its mouth, and Fort Pulaski, commanding the entrance, flanked and cut off from all communication with the city of Savannah, an expedition of United States gunboats, under command of Captain C. H. Davis, U.S.N., and Captain C. R. P. Rodgers, U.S.N., was despatched yesterday for the purpose of entering the Savannah River in the rear of the Fort. Captain Davis’s detachment followed the Wilmington Narrows on the south side of the river, while Captain Rodgers sailed up Wall’s Cut, and thence into Wright River, on the north side. The two expedition appeared this morning on opposite sides of the savannah, both being detained by piles driven in to oppose their progress, or by the shallowness of the water. While in this position, Commodore Tatnall, of the Confederate Navy, came down the savannah with five rebel gunboats, and a fleet of lighters in tow with provisions for Fort Pulaski. The national gunboats immediately opened fire on him, and a triangular engagement took place, during which three rebel boats succeeded in reaching the Fort, and discharging their lighters. They then returned and passed between the National fleets, being nearly two miles distant from each, up the river. No damage was sustained by the National gunboats during the fight.—(Doc. 21.)
—A Division of the Union troops in Missouri, under command of Jeff. C. Davis, left Versailles on the march towards Springfield. The division comprised the Eighth and Twenty-second Indiana, the Thirty-seventh Illinois and Ninth Missouri, accompanied by two batteries of twenty-four pieces, and three companies of cavalry under Major Hubbard.
