Yet near New Madrid, March 12, 1862.
The enemy are separated from us by only a few cornfields, the country is perfectly plain; we can see from our tent door the smoke stacks of their gunboat, and the music of their bands mingles with our own and yet ’tis confounded dull.
I received a letter from you by mail a few days since. The colonel and Sid. and myself take a little ride into the country most every evening for mush and milk and ’tis astonishing what quantities they do eat. We are all in perfect health and good spirits, though since we left Commerce the colonel and major have complained considerably about the fare, but ’tis better than I’m used to, so I have the advantage of them. The evacuation of Manassas, Columbus, etc., have caused considerable anxiety for the outburst of these forces which we think will be on Buel or maybe further east on our little army at the Cumberland Gap. The impression here is that the Rebel army at this place has been greatly reinforced since we arrived here from Kentucky. We number though, full 30,000 (with a brigade that is now advancing to join us) and feel fully able to attend to all of their forces here. General Pope told our colonel yesterday that Foote would be here within 48 hours sure with his gunboats, and that’s all we ask.
There is a review now being made of all the troops here by the commanding general. You’d think it quite a spectacle, wouldn’t you, to see 25,000 troops in line; 3,000 of them cavalry and 36 pieces of artillery. I was left in charge of the camp, and although I have my horse at hand saddled wouldn’t mount him to see them. It’s funny how all interest in anything dies away in a person when they have a full view or chance to view the object. We hear a dozen volleys of musketry every now and then, and although we all know there’s been a little fight, it doesn’t interfere with conversation and nine times out of ten we never hear what caused it. But go up to the hospital and you’ll find a couple of long rows of cots, each with an occupant, and they can tell you of the shooting and show a wound that they’re prouder of than you can imagine. They and their regiments that were under fire love to tell it over and over, but the rest of the army, through jealousy I believe, never mention it. You’ll see a vast deal of state pride here. The 7th Cavalry don’t acknowledge the Michigander troopers to be more than the equals of Jeff Thompson’s scalawags, and the Michigan boys really seem to think that the 7th regiment is not equal to one company of theirs. But I notice the generals here have all taken their bodyguards from our regiment. The Illinois boys and the Iowaians coalesce more readily and seem to have more family feeling between them than at least either of these state’s troops have for those of other states. ‘Tis the same in the Southern army. Arkansas and Missouri troops have a mutual hatred for each other that has extended to the citizens of these states. This part of Missouri goes a great deal on old blood; the best variety I believe is Catholic French, and these people have a sovereign contempt for the barbarians of the “Arkansaw,” while the Arkansawans accuse the Missourians of toe-kissing proclivities and cowardice.
March 12 — We left Bartonsville at eight this morning and moved slowly up the pike to a hill half a mile south of Newtown, where we are still camped this evening. To-day we had a little panic in camp, which came very near bordering on a stampede among the wagoners. Cavalrymen and some of the artillery were mixed in it too, Company Q in general. It was caused by a hasty report from the front that the Yankees were rapidly advancing in force and that they were already near our camp. The alarm was partly false, however. A Yankee scouting party drove our pickets in and approached to within one mile of our camp, and would undoubtedly have come nearer but the ever watchful and gallant Ashby at the head of his troopers with drawn sabers charged them and drove them back to Kernstown.
Some of our cavalrymen captured a drummer boy and brought him to camp. It is something unusual to find a drummer so far away from the infantry. It looks a little as if he was operating with the cavalry, either trying to deceive somebody or else the Yanks think that Ashby’s men are as easily frightened as old women. If they think the latter, they will learn something beneficial to their well-being before they get two months older.
Colonel Ashby is a splendid horseman, and as I looked at him to-day when he started to charge at the head of his column, riding superbly, with drawn saber flashing in the sunlight, and his long jetty beard floating in the wind like wavy silk as he dashed by, he was a striking representation of a princely knight of the Middle Ages, and the sight made me feel a little fightish myself.
Wednesday March 12th 1862
Walked up to the camp of the 98th at Meridian Hill with Julia after dinner. Saw all our officer friends there. Called upon Col Dutton who is sick at the old Comodore Porter Mansion. He appeared quite sick and was as I thought very uncomfortable. I invited him down to our house where he could have quiet and rest for a few days. He declined. Said he would be “all right” in a day or two. Mr Seward was at the camp of the 103rd German Regt nearby. We got home before dark, pretty tired.
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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.
12th-—On examining the fortifications at Manassas to-day, we find them mounting “wooden guns.” Subordinate officers have no right to ask questions, but if I were not a subordinate I should be strongly tempted to ask if, in eight to twelve months of anxiously watching the enemy, it were not possible to find out the nature of his defences? I really hope this oversight, or, rather, want of sight, does not indicate a wilful negligence on the part of some of our superiors.
MARCH 12TH.—Gen. Winder moved the passport office up to the corner of Ninth and Broad Streets.
The office at the corner of Ninth and Broad Streets was a filthy one; it was inhabited—for they slept there—by his rowdy clerks. And when I stepped to the hydrant for a glass of water, the tumbler repulsed me by the smell of whisky. There was no towel to wipe my hands with, and in the long basement room underneath, were a thousand garments of dead soldiers, taken from the hospitals and the battle-field, and exhaling a most disagreeable, if not deleterious, odor.
Wednesday, 12th—We started again on our voyage at daylight. A high cold wind was blowing all day. We landed at Cape Girardeau, Missouri, remaining there for a short time, and then proceeded on our journey, arriving at Cairo, Illinois, at 2 p. m., where we waited for further orders. Late in the afternoon we received orders to go up the Tennessee river and left Cairo about sundown. At Cairo there are gunboats and a large number of transports loaded with troops, and provisions for the army up along the Tennessee river.
To Mrs. Lyon
Mound City, March 12, 1862.—We are still here, and shall be for some days. There is a new administration at Cairo. General Strong has charge, General Paine being in the field near New Madrid, and they do not know at headquarters anything about the order relieving us. So if you hear of a fight at New Madrid you may be sure (humiliating as it is) that Company K is not there.
12th. Finished letter to Fannie after work done. Then took mail to post-office and helped get supper. Mail leaves Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.
Wednesday, March 12. — A bright warm day. I go to Raleigh, bidding good-bye to Fayetteville. We entered Fayetteville either the 13th or 14th of November; four months in one home, not unpleasant months, considering the winter weather of this region. Rode to Fayetteville [slip of pen for Raleigh] on my new bright bay — a good ride. Reached Fayetteville [Raleigh] just as our regiment was forming for dress parade. Eight companies in line looked large. Was greeted warmly. I gave them the news of the evacuation of Manassas and the victory in Arkansas. Three cheers given for the news; three more for General Curtis, and three for the colonel! All seemed pleased to be again together. How well they looked. The band is in capital condition. How I love the Twenty-third. I would rather command it as lieutenant-colonel than to command another regiment as colonel.
March 12. This morning weighed anchor and our fleet, comprising upwards of 50 sail, steamed up the Pamlico sound for Newbern. After a few hours’ sail, large numbers of wild geese and ducks attracted our attention. Wide marshes which extend into the sound are their feeding ground, and from these they make their way a long distance into the sound. These waters appear to be their winter quarters. About 3 p. m., we enter the Neuse river, which is here about two miles wide. Situated on the left bank, thirty miles up the river, is the city of Newbern. Slowly we steam up the river, seeing nothing but the low, piney shores, and the smoke of the enemy’s signal fires. About 8 p. m., when 15 miles up the river, in a wide place forming a kind of bay, we dropped anchor for the night. The transports lay huddled together in the middle of the river, while a cordon of gunboats surrounds us as a picket. A dark, black night has settled down on us, and all is still and silent as the tomb. Not a sound is heard or a light seen, save the enemy’s signal fires, far up the river. This stillness is dreadful. It is really oppressive, and seems as though it has remained unbroken since the morning of creation. Our errand here is to make an attempt to occupy the city of Newbern, and if anybody attempts to stop us, there will be a big fight and somebody will be hurt.
