March 11th.—Yesterday we heard good news from the mouth of James River. The ship “Virginia,” formerly the Merrimac, having been completely incased with iron, steamed out into Hampton Roads, ran into the Federal vessel Cumberland, and then destroyed the Congress, and ran the Minnesota ashore. Others were damaged. We have heard nothing further; but this is glory enough for one day, for which we will thank God and take courage.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Beaufort, S.C., March 11, 1862
What I see here only confirms my previous impressions gathered mainly from Olmsted and developed in the articles I wrote for the Independent. We can do nothing for these people until the cotton monopoly is broken down and a new state of political economy forces the cotton producer here to employ a new and cheaper machinery. Edward Pierce arrived here on Sunday in command of forty missionaries. They had better have kept away; things are not ripe for them yet and they are trying to force the course of nature. Yet the problem is a difficult one. We have now some 7000 masterless slaves within our line and in less than two months we shall have nearer 70,000, and what are we to do with them? I have not thought sufficiently to express an opinion. My present impression is in favor of a semi-military system for the present. District the territory, oblige the young to go to school, punish rigidly all thieving and violence, and then teach them all the first great lesson, that they must work to live; establish low wages and let the blacks support themselves or starve. If they choose to live in there own huts and cultivate their own land and so support themselves I see no objection, if the young went to school; but the first lesson must be work or starve. These blacks will not starve. They are just such as the white has made them and as we have heard them described. They are intelligent enough, but their intelligence too often takes the form of low cunning. They lie and steal and are fearfully lazy; but they will work for money and indeed are anxious to get work. They are dreadful hypocrites and tomorrow would say to their masters, as a rule, what today they say to us. As a whole my conclusion is that the race might be devoted, if man were what he should be; but he being what he is, it will be destroyed the moment the world realises what a field for white emigration the South affords. The inferior will disappear — how no man can tell — before the more vigorous race. The world has seen this happen before many times and this, though the newest, will not be the last instance. This war, I think, begins the new era from which, while freedom has much, the African has little to hope…
Some things in your letters filled me with astonishment and laughter. First and foremost among them was the idea of your new intimacy with Thurlow Weed — Thurlow of the unopened letter, Thurlow the unforgiving and corrupt, coming at this very time when the star of the injured Sumner — Sumner the philanthropist, the persecuted and the beaten — was no longer in the ascendant. Verily politics does give and take strange bed-fellows, and to find you working heart and hand with Weed, advising with him, confiding in him and believing in him, is something I did not dream to see. I am glad of it. The devil is not indeed so black as he is painted, and in this I think I see the last link needed in a political alliance — a Puritan and New York political confederacy — destined to be potent for good in the affairs of this Continent. Surely never did we need that all motives and all faculties should work together as we do now, and I hope lead and pestilence will spare me to do what I may as a member of the new league. . . .
Tuesday March 11, 1862
The “Stars & Stripes” are floating over Centreville & Mannasses, the Rebels having ran away. McClellan is there with over two hundred thousand men. News this morning of a desperate battle in Arkansas betwen our forces under Genl Curtis & Price, McCullochs army. The Rebels were totally routed with great loss. It has been a delightful day. Tonight Comodore Smiths son (Capt Smith of the Frigate Congress, killed in the fight with the Merrimac) was brought up to his fathers, funeral tomorrow. Took a walk with Julia & Willie tonight after dinner. “Bud” & “Holly” have gone out to the camp of the 98th Meridian Hill to see their Lyons friends. They stay in the camp tonight. I think one night in the tent will satisfy them.
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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.
11th.—Suffered more from cold last night, than on any other night in the army. The wind was terrific, and I slept out without any way to guard against it. Rode back to Camp Griffin to-day, to see to the sick and the hospital stores left there.
What next? No enemy here to fight or to watch. What shall we do? We can form no idea.
MARCH 11TH.—I have summed up the amounts of patriotic contributions received by the army in Virginia, and registered on my book, and they amount to 31,515,898.*
The people of the respective States contributed as follows:
North Carolina $325,417
Alabama, 817,600
Mississippi 272,670
Georgia 244,885
South Carolina 137,206
Texas 87,800
Louisiana 61,950
Virginia* 48,070
Tennessee 17,000
Florida 2,350
Arkansas 950
* Virginia undoubtedly contributed more than any other State, but they were not registered.
Tuesday, 11th—We lay at the wharf all night, loading the quartermaster’s supplies. At 8 a. m. we left St. Louis for Cairo, Illinois. Our entire regiment is on the one boat, a side-wheeler. Company E is quartered on the hurricane deck, and a cold wind blowing makes it rather disagreeable for us. We lay up for the night one hundred miles below St. Louis. We have big times getting our rations cooked, for there is but one place to get boiling water to make coffee, and only one place at the fire where we can broil our bacon. Each man slices his bacon, puts it on the ramrod, and holds it close to the fire under the boilers. We all have to take our turn, and since there are eight hundred men, there is some one at the fire all day and part of the night. The captain of the boat declared that we were “the d____st set of men to eat” that he had ever seen in his life.
March 11—At ten o’clock this morning we heard that the Yankees were advancing in force. We received orders to move toward Winchester, to go within one mile of town and await further orders. Immediately after we arrived within a mile of town we were ordered to return down the pike, to check the enemy’s advance guard. We went about two miles below town and put one gun [the howitzer] in position, and awaited the approach of the Yanks. Our first position was nearly two miles in advance of Jackson’s army, which was then near Winchester.
We did not have to wait long before we saw the enemy, an immense force steadily advancing on the Martinsburg road, and a column of infantry with waving banners winding along the hillsides west of the pike, like some huge shiny snake in a coat of mail, reflecting the bright afternoon sunlight that flashed with shattered splendor from thousands of glittering muskets and burnished trappings. The magnificent splendor of the scene was truly fascinating, yet danger lurked in the approaching panoramic sheen.
The cavalry was in front in solid column, which once or twice threw out bodies of skirmishers that scoured the woods and fields on their left. The infantry marched in splendid order in columns of four, close in rear of the cavalry. Now and then I saw little bunches of white smoke rising from their line of sharpshooters as they sped their bullets at some daring Rebel cavalrymen that ventured too near the coming warish anaconda.
They advanced cautiously and slowly. As soon as their cavalry came within range of our gun we fired two shell at them, then fell back to the fair ground, taking a position which we held till after dark. It was nearly sunset when we arrived at the fair ground, and just as the sun was sinking behind the hills Jackson’s men began to move in various maneuvers, marching and counter-marching around the fair ground and through the fields at the north end of Winchester.
When the twilight began to grow into dusk I saw some of the infantry regiments march into the breastworks on the hill west of town. We remained at the fair ground with our guns in battery ready for action at a moment’s warning until some time after dark. Then, all being quiet in our front, we retired slowly through the silent streets that were soon to echo the martial tread of the invaders. We fell back to Milltown Mills on the Valley pike, and remained until midnight, then retired to Bartonsville. From all appearances Winchester is evacuated, and will be occupied by the enemy to-morrow morning.
Jackson’s forces are retreating up the Valley. Their camp-fires are blazing all along the pike south of Kernstown by Bartonsville and toward Newtown.
It is now nearly two hours after midnight, and the air is cold and chilly. A few moments ago I saw General Jackson bending over a dying camp-fire by the roadside warming his hands. After standing there a while apparently in deep meditation, and as silent as the glow that was playing over the embers, he drew his faded cap closer over his brow, mounted his horse, and rode slowly away toward Newtown.
Here at Bartonsville, which is six miles from Winchester, we, at two o’clock in the morning, wrapped our blankets around us, weary and fatigued, and dropped on the bosom of Mother Earth to snatch a few hours of balmy sleep.
March 11th. After failing to get up the river at this Pass we to-day steamed round to South-West Pass to try the depth of water there. We found the U. S. steam frigate Colorado here, besides several transports. On the following day the Brooklyn went over this bar and anchored on the other side. The Hartford followed on the 13th and all proceeded to Pilot Town, a little settlement just above the mouth of the Pass. Here it was decided to strip the ship for action; this occupied the 14th. We sent a guard of marines ashore to protect our property, and the flag which was raised on the lookout by Lieut. Kautz, Lieut. Broome of the marines, and Mr. Osbon; the guns were all shotted, and preparations made for any demonstration of the enemy.
Sunday, 11th. Issued rations. Wrote a letter to Theodore and read some. Commenced a letter to Fannie. Helped bring wood.
March 11. This morning the clink of the windlass is again heard from all the boats hoisting their anchors. We steam out of Croatan into Pamlico sound; so here we go for new conquests.
The Burnside expedition, it did not end in smoke:
It captured Elizabeth City, and the isle of Roanoke.
About 11 a. m., the New York went onto a shoal and came to a dead halt. Here was a pre
tty fix, stuck right in the middle of Pamlico sound. We had the schooner Skirmisher in tow, with companies K and I aboard, but they thought they would leave us and go it alone. Accordingly they hauled in their hawser, hoisted sail and left us, sailing with a fair breeze gallantly down the sound. Three large steamers hitched on to us, to pull us off. After a good deal of hard work, lots of swearing and breaking hawsers, they finally succeeded, about 4 p. m., in hauling us off. We again started and dropped anchor at Hatteras inlet at 10 p. m.
