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

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Note: This letter—a document written in 1862—includes a term that may be offensive to many today.  No attempt will be made to censor or edit 19th century material to today’s standards.

Near New Madrid, Mo., March 6, 1862.

What oceans of fun we are having here. Here goes for all of it to date, and I’ll be lucky if I’m able to tell you the finale. We went down to Commerce the 26th of February. Troops were scattered everywhere over the town and vicinity for 15 miles about. Could form no idea of the number there, but it was variously estimated at from 15,000 to 45,000. On the 28th we started, our regiment in advance, and camped that night at Hunter’s farm, the same place we stopped last fall when going to Bloomfield under Oglesby. We reached Hunter’s at 2 o’clock p.m., and at 11 the same morning Jeff Thompson had been there waiting for us with six pieces of cannon. He skedaddled, but still kept in the neighboring swamps. The next morning we again started in advance and after a ride of five miles heard firing about the same distance ahead. We let the horses go and in a very short time were within the limits of the muss. We came up with a company of cavalry from Bird’s Point standing in line at the end of a lane, about a mile down which we could see Thompson’s forces drawn up with his artillery “in battery.” He saw us about as quick as we got up, and limbered up in double quick and scooted. Then the fun commenced. We chased him for 15 miles over a splendid straight, wide, level road, which he strewed with blankets, guns, hats, and at last dropped his artillery. A dozen of our boys kept up the chase until within a half mile of New Madrid, where they captured a wagon load of grain and a nigger, and returned at leisure. We caught a captain, 1st. lieutenant and some privates. Next day, the 2d of March, our regiment went down to New Madrid to reconnoiter. A regular colonel went along to draw a map of the country. We went it blind right into the edge of town, where we ran onto a lot of infantry. As fighting wasn’t the object, we filed off to the left into a cornfield to get a new view of town. We were going slowly down on the town in line of battle, when a battery opened on us right, smartly. We got out of that, but in good order. Only one shell touched us and that burst right under a horse’s nose. One piece bruised the horse a little and knocked the rider off, but did not hurt the man at all, and the horse is now fit for duty again. Almost miraculous, wasn’t it? There were lots of shell and balls fell around us. On the 3d the whole army got here and we again marched on the burg. The gunboats opened on us and we had to draw back. That day three 64-pound shells burst within 30 yards of me. We have been lying, since then, about two miles from town. They throw a shell over here occasionally but haven’t hurt any body yet at this distance. To-day the cavalry have been out again to see if the gunboats have left, (that’s all that keeps us from taking the town). The boats were still there and again shelled us, killing one man and a horse in the Michigan 3d. They killed one man on the 3d in the 39th Ohio, and the same shell wounded several others. Yesterday 2,000 or 3,000 men went around New Madrid down the river ten miles to Point Pleasant, but were kept off by the damned gunboats, just like we are here. If two or three of our gunboats could only slip down far enough to see their gunboats (two of them) and steamboats coming and going with their secesh flags flying. They have burned a half dozen houses in town since we came here. Don’t know what for. Brigadier General Pope who is in command here has been made a major general. The colonel has just come from his quarters, and reports that Foote will be here with his gunboats day after to-morrow at farthest. We have been scouting all afternoon and I’m blamed tired. I took four men and went it alone. Had a good time but got lost and didn’t get back until 8 p.m. Captured a lot of ginger snaps, and had a good talk with a handsome widow, while the boats were firing at the Michigan cavalry on our left. These shells don’t scare a fellow half as much as the thoughts of them do. Why you really don’t mind it at all. I don’t like the idea of those musket balls, but maybe that is also worse than the reality.

6th.—To-day we saw Bishop Wilmer consecrated— Bishop Meade presiding, Bishops Johns and Elliott assisting. The services were very imposing, but the congregation was grieved by the appearance of Bishop Meade; he is so feeble! As he came down the aisle, when the consecration services were about to commence, every eye was fixed on him; it seemed almost impossible for him to reach the chancel, and while performing the services he had to be supported by the other Bishops. Oh, how it made my heart ache! and the immense crowd was deeply saddened by it.

6th.—This morning as my newly appointed nurses came in, I was utterly disheartened. There is not a man amongst them who can make a toast or broil a chicken; yet the sick must depend on them for all their cooking. Half of them are applicants for discharge on the ground of disability, yet they are sent to me to work over the sick, night and day, and to carry the wounded from the battle field. Not one has ever dispensed a dose of medicine, and yet I must depend on them for this duty. It is a dreadful thought to me that I must go to the battle field with the set which is now around me. Our sick, our wounded, our dying on the battle field will be from amongst my neighbors and my friends. To the parents of many I have made a solemn vow that their sons shall be properly cared for in times of trouble. Well, I will do the best I can, but when I have trained men to all the little offices of kindness and of care, even to the practice of lifting the wounded and carrying them smoothly on litters,[1] it is hard that they should now be taken from me, at the very moment of expected battle, and replaced by such as these.

This morning the men dismissed from my service for the heinous offence of loving me, came in to bid me good bye. When a long time hence, I read this, I find it written that we all wept, I may then feel ashamed of the weakness. I certainly do not now.


[1] For months, it has been a daily practice to take the nurses to the field and train them to lifting the sick and wounded, and even to the proper step in carrying them off the field. None but those who have witnessed it can imagine the difference in pain or comfort, which a certain kind of step will communicate to those carried on litters.

March 6 — We moved from our quarters south of the Berryville road to a woods north of the road. All is quiet, but from various indications, and from our short movements from pike to pike, first to the Berryville pike and then to the Martinsburg road, forebodes that all is not well.

A private in the rear rank has very little opportunity of knowing or learning anything concerning the movements or strength of an approaching enemy, but I have a sort of unexplainable intuition that the Yanks are advancing on Winchester with a heavy force, and that within the next few days we will see either a fight or a fall-back.

Thursday March 6th 1862

The event of the day has been the Funeral of the gallant Genl Lander. It took place at the Epiphany church, starting from the Residence of Sec’y Chase. The family (ours) all went. Mrs Doct Barnes & Julia were at the office. I went up into the Hospital with them. They were out to see the procession pass. Mrs O Knight called this evening. Prof Sparks was here an hour. Edwd Dickerson called and he and Julia went to the great Gotschalk concert at Willards Hall, returned about 101/2 o’clock. It has been dry but quite Cool today. The roads are getting better. No news from over the River and no advance as yet.

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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.

MARCH 6TH.—Some consternation among the citizens—they dislike martial law.

Thursday, 6th—No news of importance.

Wednesday, 6th. The three battalions of the Second Cavalry marched thirty miles to Harrisonville, the county seat of Cass County, once a thrifty town, almost entirely deserted. Day blustering and chilly. A march makes pretty busy times distributing rations, getting forage for so many horses. Letter from Fannie. Encamped by the side of a little stream.

Mound City, Ill., March 6, 1862.—I see by your paper of last week (a stray copy of which has just reached us) that you are under a misapprehension in relation to the movement of our regiment. No part of it has been at Fort Donelson. Company K was sent to this place on the 12th ult. Soon afterwards, and before the capture of Donelson, the right wing of the regiment went up the Ohio river as far as Paducah as an escort to General Paine, returning to Cairo in a day or two. Since that time Col. Murphy, with Captains Redfield and Perkins and a detachment of one hundred men from Companies A and C, escorted the Fort Henry prisoners to Alton. Company E, Captain Young, has been to St. Louis in charge of a large number of rebel officers, captured at Donelson. On Sunday, the 23d ult., a detachment of three hundred men of the 8th, under command of Col. Murphy, went down the river to Columbus, where they were met by a flag of truce from the rebels, as already stated in the newspapers.

These were the only movements made by the 8th since we arrived at Cairo, until the 4th inst., when the whole regiment, except Company K, was ordered on an expedition into the country back of Bird’s Point, and left Cairo the same evening. We do not know the object of the expedition, but suppose that it is to prevent marauding parties of rebels in the neighborhood of New Madrid from passing north of Bird’s Point and attacking Government transports on the river, large numbers of which are constantly moving laden with troops and supplies. It is expected that the regiment will return to Cairo in a few days.

I wish to refer to another matter before I close. I learn from the Advocate that Lieut. Gibbons, of Waterford, has resigned and returned home, and that his neighbors are indignant at his conduct, charging him with cowardice. I fear that the good people of Waterford are doing Lieut. Gibbons injustice. There are frequently valid reasons why an officer may resign—without loss of honor—and when I remember that the Lieutenant saw service in Mexico, and knew precisely what he must encounter when he volunteered in the service last summer, I can not believe that he is a coward. A coward may accidentally get into one war, but I do not believe that he would voluntarily go into a second one. Of course, I know nothing of the facts, but I trust that public opinion will not pronounce the terrible judgment of cowardice upon Lieut. Gibbons without the most convincing proofs.

Respectfully yours,

Wm. P. Lyon.

March 6. Broke camp, leaving our log barracks, and are once more aboard our old home, the New York. We were cordially welcomed by Capt. Clark, Mr. Mulligan and the crew. Mr. Mulligan said he knew we were doing our duty on the 8th of February by the racket we made and the smoke rising above the tree tops.