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

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Monday Night.—This morning I was at the funeral, at St. Paul’s Church; the service was read by the Rev. J. P. McGuire and Rev. C. J. Gibson. Bishop Johns made a most solemn address. The procession, long and sad, then wended its way to Hollywood Cemetery.

Monday March 17th 1862

Nothing new has transpired today that we know of. The Telegraph announces that a Battle is in progress on the Miss. Com Foote is Bombarding the Rebels at Island No 10 with his gun boats. Troops are embarking on the Steam Boats to go down the River. The long trains of Govt Wagons which used to obstruct our Streets have nearly all left, and are over the River having followed the Army. I called down to Mr Morrisons on D st this evening for Julia. It is now 101/2 o’clock, the children are all in bed since 1/2 past 8. A fine Band of music is playing in the street, some Seranade I presume.

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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 17th.—To-day our sick, instead of being put into General Hospital, are marched from depot to the camp. McDowell’s Division is ordered back to Arlington Heights. We are sending to Washington for our tents. Our General Smith is building stables, and it looks as if we were again settling down. What does it mean? Is there another change of programme? and are we not to embark after all? Have we discovered the muzzle of another wooden gun, which we must besiege for nine months? Many of the troops begin to question McClellan’s claim to infallibility. I have to regret that I have again failed to prevail on the Governor to interest himself in getting me transferred to another Regiment, where I could be much more useful. The opposition which I meet here from some of my superior officers, is rapidly destroying the interest which I have felt in the Regiment. (At night) a great hurrah and rejoicing in camp, in consequence of an order to prepare, immediately, five days’ rations, and to be ready. This may mean, embark, but our Gen. McC. has so often cried “wolf” of late, that when the wolf does come, we may not be ready. Shall we embark tomorrow?

MARCH 17TH.—Col. Porter has resigned his provost marshal-ship, and is again succeeded by Capt. Godwin, a Virginian, and I like him very well, for he is truly Southern in his instincts.

Monday, 17th—We received orders to disembark in the morning and everybody is rejoicing, for it is getting very tiresome on the boats—we have been on the boats seven days now. Details of men worked nearly all day at unloading our commissariat. The landing place is nothing but a jelly of mud—there are so many mules, horses and men passing back and forth.


17th. Wrote home. Helped weigh out beef.

Fort Albany, Va., March 17, 1862.

To the family in general:

The Army of the Potomac has moved and left us in the dark; there are not 100 men in the Regt. but what would like to go ahead.

McDowell’s Division, which we once belonged to and then were put out of, and then into it again, and then off, is going to reinforce Burnside’s. The Nelly Baker and Nantasket are down in the stream, with some 20 others, to take troops to some place. What do you think of our defeat at Manassas? We were not whipped, but we did not get a chance to fight.

The talk is that McClellan will be supersceded. I don’t know it as a fact, but it is rumor.

We are about played out writing out here. Like to get letters well enough but don’t like to answer.

Here I shall close.

L-brad—Jr

P. S. Pleaseexcusethewritingwellyouknowitisbaddon’tyouwellwhatdo youthinkofManassas— Leverettbradleyjr

Camp Hayes, Raleigh, Virginia, Monday A. M., March 17, 1862. — Cold raw morning; snow at last lying on the ground enough to whiten it. Stormy (rather Aprilish) and bright by turns all day.

Mrs. Beckley (General) called (with another lady) in tears saying her husband, the general, was at home. Had concluded to surrender himself; that she hadn’t seen or heard from him for three months, hoped we would not send him to Columbus, etc., etc. In his letter he pledged his honor not to oppose the United States; to behave as a loyal citizen, etc., etc. I called to see him; found him an agreeable old gentleman of sixty; converses readily and entertainingly; told an anecdote of General Jackson capitally; he said, Old Hickory’s hair bristled up, his eyes shot fire, and his iron features became more prominent, as, in a passion, raising both hands, he said (speaking of a postmaster General Beckley wished to retain in office, and who had himself taken no active part against General Jackson but whose clerks had been against the general): “What if the head is still when both hands are at work against me?” — shaking his hands outstretched and in a tearing passion. The lieutenant (then) subsided in the presence of such wrath.

General Beckley thinks western Virginia is given up to us, and that his duty is to go with his home — to submit to the powers that be. I agreed to his views generally and told him I would recommend General Cox to assent to his surrender on the terms proposed.

Sent Captain Zimmerman and company out scouting the woods in our vicinity; Captain Harris out to break up a bushwhacking party he thinks he can surprise.

March 17. It would seem that the people had no thought of evacuating the city until the very last moment. When they saw that the Philistines were upon them they hastily gathered up their valuables and what light articles they could carry on their persons, and fled, leaving their houses, stores and property, just as they stood.

Today the several companies of our regiment moved into the deserted mansions of the Confederate martyrs, which will be our quarters during our stay. Company B went into a two-story brick house on East Front street. It has a pretty flower garden in front, with an orchard, vegetable garden and servants’ quarters in the rear. The house is nicely furnished throughout; the floors, halls and stairs are carpeted, as are the chambers. The front parlor has upholstered furniture, center table, piano, lace curtains, ornaments, gas fixtures, etc. The back parlor is furnished similar to the front, excepting the piano. The basement contains all necessary culinary utensils. I don’t see but we are pretty well fixed, but this is only one of the occasional sunny spots in a soldier’s life. Some of the other companies are quartered in more pretentious and better furnished houses, on Pollock, Craven and Broad streets. We are nicely settled in the fine mansions of the lordly fugitives, who but yesterday ruled these spacious homes and paced the pictured halls. What strange infatuation, bordering on insanity, must have possessed these people, to bring this terrible calamity of war upon themselves, thus becoming voluntary exiles and strangers from their homes and property.

Loss and Gain.

An account of stock has been taken, and we are now able to figure up the losses and gains in the great battle. The 25th lost four killed and sixteen wounded. The whole Federal loss was 100 killed and 498 wounded. The enemy’s loss in killed and wounded is not known, but probably was not large, as they were behind their works, and all their killed and wounded were put aboard the cars which were waiting on the track. They lost about 500 men, taken prisoners, all the guns in their works, all their field batteries, upwards of 100 guns; besides all their horses, camp equipage, a large amount of ammunition, 4000 muskets and a large quantity of commissary and quartermaster’s stores. They also lost three steamboats, one of which they ran ashore and burned, besides quite a quantity of cotton on the wharves which they had used in the erection of batteries.

Alexandria, Va., March 17, 1862.

Dear Cousin L.:—

The “grand army” has at last moved. Our brigade left Hall’s Hill at daylight last Monday morning and marched to Fairfax Court House. The whole army advanced the same day. On arriving at Fairfax we heard that our cavalry had been to Manassas Junction and found it evacuated and the barracks of the rebel army a mass of smoking ruins. The three terrible forts at Centreville were mounted with pine cannon and sheet iron mortars, so the great Manassas humbug is exploded. “Now what is to be done?” was the question we asked as soon as it was satisfactorily ascertained that these reports were true.

We rested at Fairfax, waiting for another rainy day, which did not come till Saturday. Then we marched to Alexandria. Our regiment has never moved yet without marching in the rain. It commenced raining just as we marched out of camp on Monday and rained till we halted at Fairfax. We had a hard march. After we had gone some three or four miles the men began to throw off blankets, coats and knapsacks, and towards night the road was strewed with them. I saw men fall down who could not rise without help. The rain soaked everything woolen full of water and made our loads almost mule loads. As for myself, I stood it well, at least as well as any, but I never was so tired before. I am acting as regimental bugler, but I could not blow a note when we stopped at night. We pitched our picket tents which we carry with us on the ground lately occupied by a secesh regiment. We built fires, boiled our coffee and roasted our bacon and then lay down on the ground to sleep. Oh, how we slept! The reveille at sunrise woke us, stiff and lame, but the sun came up warm and clear and a couple of days rest made us all right. Then on Saturday we were ordered to Alexandria. We marched eighteen miles, every step in the rain, but we had a good road and the men stood it much better than they did the other march. We halted at the camp of the Irish brigade under command of General T F. Meagher. They had gone to Centreville and we took possession of their camp and made ourselves as comfortable as possible. I was fortunate enough to get into a line officer’s tent. There were ten of us in a tent designed for one, but we built a fire, made coffee, swept off the floor and “coiled up” for the night. Oh, how we did steam! It was better than any sweat ever advocated by hydropaths. This morning we had to leave, as the Sixty-ninth was coming back to camp. We moved over on a hillside near Fort Ellsworth, and about half a mile from the river and the same from Alexandria.

General McDowell’s corps, comprising his own and Generals McCall’s, Smith’s and Porter’s divisions, in all about sixty thousand men, are here waiting for transports to take us off on another expedition. The destination is of course unknown to us, but we shall in all probability be sent against what remains of the rebel army between here and Richmond. There were one hundred and fifty vessels here yesterday, and troops embarking all the time. I think our time will not come for two or three days at least.

This is naturally a beautiful country, but either the war has made sad havoc here or the few inhabitants are greatly deficient in enterprise, for it looks almost like a desert now. There are a few splendid buildings here, but the majority are miserable huts. I called yesterday at the house of a northern man who had married a southern wife and adopted southern institutions. He had a good farm and excellent buildings all under the protection of the government. He has proved a loyal citizen, although a slaveholder, but his wife and daughter are rabid secesch. The daughter is a fine looking young woman, about twenty, I should think, and quite sociable. She commenced conversation by inquiring if I thought it was right to try to force the South to remain in the Union against their will. Of course I did, you know, and I was obliged to say so. She waxed quite warm in the defense of the rebels, but finally stopped by remarking abruptly that we had better change the subject, as we were friends now but would not be if we continued to talk about the war. She was in the Mansion House where Ellsworth was shot at the time of his death, and said, “He ought to have been shot, for he had no business to meddle with a flag that a man put on his own dwelling.” It amused me to see a woman so gritty, but, if she does nothing but talk, I suppose she must be allowed to do that. She was very different from one I met when I was on picket duty in January. She was born in New York, but had lived here so long it seemed like her home. She, too, was very sociable and seemed to think there might be soldiers who were not ruffians. I believe you asked in a former letter if the government furnished postage or stationery. It does not. We furnish our own, and it is often hard to get. We’re not much troubled with peddlers now, for we have not received any pay since December 31st, and money is too scarce to offer inducements to that gentry.