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

Saturday, April 28, 2012

April 28, 1862.—This evening has been very lovely, but full of a sad disappointment. H. invited me to drive. As we turned homeward he said:

“Well, my arrangements are completed. You can begin to pack your trunks to-morrow, and I shall have a talk with Max.”

Mr. R. and Annie were sitting on the gallery as I ran up the steps.

“Heard the news?” they cried.

“No! What news?”

“New Orleans is taken! All the boats have been run up the river to save them. No more mails.”

How little they knew what plans of ours this dashed away. But our disappointment is truly an infinitesimal drop in the great waves of triumph and despair surging to-night in thousands of hearts.

______

Note: To protect Mrs. Miller’s job as a teacher in New Orleans, the diary was published anonymously, edited by G. W. Cable, names were changed and initials were often used instead of full names — and even the initials differed from the real person’s initials.
Abby Howland Woolsey to Georgeann and Eliza.

New York, April 28.

My dear Sisters: Mother’s letter of Sunday morning, giving the startling intelligence of your having gone off suddenly to Fort Monroe, came before breakfast. Since it was your very earnest wish, and, as Mr. Prentiss tells us, you might have chafed at being held back—why I am glad you have gone. But it seems to me a very trying position for you: you will work yourselves sick. Joe will be the most surprised person, and I don’t believe he will approve of your being on a hospital boat. It is very satisfactory that Mrs. Griffin is on board; as long as she stays you will not need either man or woman protector. . . . Georgy’s letter to Charley came with Mother’s. He will see to the wire camp-beds, and we will put the other stores, your hats, etc., etc., all in a trunk and have them ready for the first opportunity. If you write for Charley he will take them on at once. . . . It is strange that Mr. Olmsted should have had you in mind, without having known of your desire to go. It shows that, as Georgy says, “Heaven had opened the door.” . . . Our best love to you two dear brave girls; you are doing what you love to do, and I hope will take care of yourselves as well as of the soldiers.

Eliza Woolsey Howland to Joe Howland.

Monday Morning, April 28.

Where do you think I am? On the “Daniel Webster No. 1,” which the Sanitary Commission has taken as a hospital ship. We are now on the way down to Cheeseman’s Creek, near Ship Point, and when you receive this we shall be lying just there. Saturday afternoon the gentlemen of the Commission, Mr. Olmsted and Mr. Knapp, came over to see us, and to our great surprise and pleasure proposed to us to come down with them in the ship as “nurses at large,” or matrons, or what not—to do of course all we can for the sick and wounded men in the approaching battle. They had telegraphed to Mrs. William P. Griffin and Mrs. Lane of New York to come on at once, and go too. We only had one night’s notice, as they were to leave early Sunday morning, but we accepted the offer at once, and here we are! We four are the only women on board except a colored chambermaid, but there are 30 or 40 men nurses and hospital dressers, and several members of the Commission—Mr. Olmsted, Mr. Knapp, Mr. Lewis Rutherford, Mr. Strong, Dr. Agnew, Dr. Grymes, etc. They have two boats, this and the Elm City. The latter is to be a receiving ship and permanent floating hospital, and this one the transporting one, in which the wounded will be carried at once by sea to New York, Philadelphia, or Baltimore and Washington, as the case may be. It is an old ocean steamship, and used to run on the Aspinwall route; is stanch and seaworthy, but now wretchedly dirty. A dozen stout contrabands are at work night and day scrubbing and cleaning, and, as they finish, the whitewashers and carpenters succeed them, and by degrees it will be put in good condition. . . . I saw Mrs. Franklin the night before we started and have a note for the General. We left our little dog Mopsey with her. . . . If you are still off Ship Point we shall be very near each other. . . . There is a P. O. station at Cheeseman’s Creek to which please direct your letters to me, care of Fred. Law Olmsted, Hospital Ship of Sanitary Commission.

April 28.—To-day a detachment of the First New-Jersey cavalry carried into Washington, D. C, ten prisoners captured at a courier station, six miles beyond the Rappahannock River, Va. They were surprised in their beds. The information which led to their capture was volunteered by a loyal black, who guided the Jerseymen through the rebel picket line. The prisoners declared that they were of the party who killed Lieut. Decker, near Falmouth. They were intelligent men of a company formed in John Brown times, to which “none but gentlemen were elected.”—N. Y. Tribune, April 29.

—The United States war steamer Sacramento was launched at the Portsmouth, (N. H.) Navy Yard to-day. She is the finest and largest war vessel ever built at Portsmouth.—Boston Transcript, April 29.

—Five companies of National cavalry had a skirmish with the enemy’s cavalry two miles in advance of Monterey, Tenn.[1] The rebels retreated. Five of them were killed—one a major. Eighteen prisoners, with horses and arms, were captured. One of the prisoners, named Vaughan, was formerly foreman in the office of the Louisville Democrat. The Unionists had one man wounded and none killed. The prisoners say that the enemy has upward of eighty thousand men at Corinth, and will fight and that they are intrenching and mounting large guns.—Official War Despatch.

—Near Yorktown, Va., Gen. Hancock went out with a portion of his brigade for the purpose of driving the rebels from a piece of timber which they occupied in close proximity to the National works. The troops advanced through an open fire on their hands and knees until they came within close musket-range. The rebels, who were secreted behind stumps and trees, were anxious to get the men on their feet, and to accomplish this the captain in command of the enemy shouted at the height of his voice to charge bayonets, supposing that the Union troops would instantly jump to their feet and run. But they were mistaken. The command being given the second time, the rebels arose, when the Union troops poured into them a well-directed fire, causing them to retreat, leaving their dead and wounded.

Thomas J. (Stonewall) Jackson

Thomas J. (Stonewall) Jackson

During the skirmish a new battery which the rebels had erected during Sunday night, and which interfered with the working party of the Nationals, was most effectually silenced and the guns dismantled.

—The Santa Fe, New-Mexico mail, arrived at Kansas City, Mo., with dates to the twelfth inst. Col. Slough and Gen. Canby formed a junction at Galisteo on the eleventh. Major Duncan, who was in command of Gen. Canby’s advance-guard, encountered a large party of Texans and routed them. Major Duncan was slightly wounded. The Texans were thirty miles south of Galisteo, in full flight from the territory.—Official Despatch.

—The rebel steamer Ella Warley (Isabel) arrived at Port Royal, S. C, in charge of Lieut. Gibson and a prize crew, she having been captured by the Santiago de Cuba, one hundred miles north of Abaco.

—Forts Jackson and St Philip on the Mississippi River, below New-Orleans, surrendered to the National fleet under Flag-Officer Farragut.— (Doc. 149.)


[1] Monterey is a small post-village of McNairy County, situated near the boundary line of Mississippi but a short distance from Corinth. The county has an area estimated at five hundred and seventy square miles, and occupies part of the table-land I between the Tennessee and Hatchie Rivers.