Thursday, 15th—We capped our grain stacks against rain and windstorms, and then commenced mowing wild grass for hay. This is my birthday; am nineteen years old.
Monday, August 15, 2011
15th.—I wish to record, what I have omitted, an acknowledgment to many of the people of Baltimore during our stay here, for such kindness as I never expected to meet with amongst strangers. On the morning of our arrival, at the depot, in this city, I was detained some time in looking after the sick who were brought forward, and in getting them into conveyances to the depot where we were to re-embark. The regiment marched forward and left me, so that I must pass through the city alone. I armed myself well, expecting to be insulted at every corner, and, perhaps, to meet with personal violence. My dress showed me to be a member of the regiment which had just passed. Scarcely a rod did I walk without being accosted with kind greetings and “Godspeeds;” scarcely a corner did I pass without being stopped by gentlemen, inviting me to their houses to partake of their hospitality, in the shape of a cup of coffee, a breakfast, a little rest. Ladies, as I passed, would come to the door, or send out their servants to know if they could do anything for the comfort of myself or regiment.
Since I have been left here with the sick of the regiment, their kindness and attention have, if possible, been even more marked. The house which I use for both hospital and headquarters, is constantly crowded by ladies, gentlemen, children, pressing in to see what they can do for the relief of the sufferers. The tables groan under the delicacies brought in, and citizens beg for permission to take my sick and care for them at their houses. Nor is this done from the novelty of seeing a regiment pass through. There are always from ten to twenty thousand volunteer troops here, and from one to twenty new regiments pass through daily.
I confess to myself that this is a discouraging feature in the war. This is a Southern city, and this is a type of Southern character. They become interested, and their whole heart is wrapped up in the subject. It is a representation of the character of the people against whom we fight, and on this earnestness for what they believe to be right, is based much of their opinion that the Southerner will prove himself so far superior to the Northern man in battle. I fear there is more truth in it than we of the North are willing to admit. Whatever may be the result of the struggle now going on, to the people of Baltimore I shall ever remember that I am under deep obligations for their kindness to me personally, as well as to the sufferers under my care, and for their interest in the cause which I believe to be not only right, but sacred. I leave Baltimore with much regret, and beg its kind citizens to remember that at least one soldier, a recipient of their kindness, will ever treasure in his heart a grateful remembrance of them.
THURSDAY 15
The 3rd Regt of Regulars are cleaning up the Camp on F[ranklin] Square, “Camp Anderson,” for occupation. I was in the Pat office awhile today but staid at Home most of the day. The weather is quite cool and a fire in the dining room is comfortable in the morning. Doct Barnes was over from Alexandria and took dinner with us. No particular news afloat. All military movements are now kept as secret as possible by Genl McClellan.
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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.
August 15. Thursday.—A bright, lovely day and the prettiest evening of the month. The bright moonlight exhibits the landscape enough to show its loveliness and the lights and shadows. The hills and woods are very picturesque. It makes me long for wife and boys and friends behind. How Lute would enjoy roaming with me through camp tonight.
More rumors of attacks by guerrillas, or “bushwhackers” as they are here called, on our couriers and trains. A courier and captain and some wagoners are reported killed or taken below Sutton.
My box containing pistols and sash, etc., by mistake sent from Clarksburg to Buckhannon. Made arrangements to send Lieutenant Richardson and two men with ambulance after it.
WESTON, VIRGINIA, August 15, 1861.
Thursday Morning.
DEAREST L—:—We had four days of rain ending yesterday morning—such rain as this country of hills and mountains can afford. It was gloomy and uncomfortable but no harm was done. It cleared off beautifully yesterday morning and the weather has been most delicious since. This is a healthful region. Nobody seriously sick and almost everybody outrageously healthy. I never was better. It is a luxury to breathe. Dr. Joe—but don’t he go into the corn? He has it three times a day, reminding me of Northampton a year ago and your order for supper on our return from Mount Holyoke.
Our regiment has had divers duties which keep up excitement enough to prevent us from stagnating. Colonel Matthews and right wing is fifty miles south. Captain Drake and Captain Woodward, with their companies, spent the four rainy days scouring the steepest hills and deepest gullies for the rascals who waylay our couriers and wagon trains. They captured three or four of the underlings, but the leaders and main party dodged them. Captain Zimmerman and his company have gone west forty miles to escort provisions to Colonel Moor (Second German Regiment of Cincinnati in which Markbreit is Lieutenant) and to clean out an infected neighborhood between here and there. A sergeant and six men are at Clarksburg escorting a prisoner destined for Columbus. Lieutenant Rice and twenty men are escorting cattle for Colonel Tyler’s command south of here. A part of our cavalry are gone west to escort a captain and the surgeon of the Tenth to Glenville, thirty-seven miles west. On Saturday I go with Captain Drake’s company to meet Captain Zimmerman’s company returning from the west, and with the two companies, to go into the hills to the south to hunt for a guerrilla band who are annoying Union men in that vicinity. I shall be gone almost a week so you will not hear from me for some time. The telegraph is now extended south to a station near where I am going to operate, so that we are in reach of humanity by telegraph but not by mail.
Dr. Joe has got the hospital in good condition. A church (Methodist South) in place of the court-house for the merely comfortable, and a private house for the very sick. None of our regiment are seriously ill. The sick are devolved upon us from other regiments—chiefly lung complaints developed by marching, measles, or exposure. Very few, if any, taken here. Divers humane old ladies furnish knickknacks to the hospital and make glad the poor fellows with such comforts as women can best provide.
We find plenty of good Union men, and most of our expeditions are aided by them. They show a good spirit in our behalf. A large part of our friends in the mountains are the well-to-do people of their neighborhoods and usually are Methodists or other orderly citizens.
Good-bye, dearest. I love you very much. Kiss the boys and love to all. Tell Webby that during the rain the other night, dark as pitch, my horse, Webb, fell down the hill back of the camp into the river. Swam over to the opposite shore, and at daylight we saw him frisking about in great excitement trying to get back to his companion Birch. When we got him he was not hurt or scratched even. He stumbles a little, which doesn’t do for a riding horse, so I have taken a government horse which looks very much like him; same color and size but not quite so pretty, and given Webb to Uncle Joe for an ambulance horse. I shall call my new horse Webb, so there are to be two Webbys in the regiment. My next horse I shall call Ruddy. Love to Grandma.
Affectionately,
R.
MRS. HAYES.
AUGUST 15TH.—No clew yet to the spies in office who furnish the Northern press with information. The matter will pass uninvestigated. Such is our indifference to everything but desperate fighting. The enemy will make good use of this species of information.
August 15th.—Mrs. Randolph came. With her were the Freelands, Rose and Maria. The men rave over Mrs. Randolph’s beauty; called her a magnificent specimen of the finest type of dark-eyed, rich, and glowing Southern woman-kind. Clear brunette she is, with the reddest lips, the whitest teeth, and glorious eyes; there is no other word for them. Having given Mrs. Randolph the prize among Southern beauties, Mr. Clayton said Prentiss was the finest Southern orator. Mr. Marshall and Mr. Barnwell dissented ; they preferred William C. Preston. Mr. Chesnut had found Colquitt the best or most effective stump orator.
Saw Henry Deas Nott. He is just from Paris, via New York. Says New York is ablaze with martial fire. At no time during the Crimean war was there ever in Paris the show of soldiers preparing for the war such as he saw at New York. The face of the earth seemed covered with marching regiments.
Not more than 500 effective men are in Hampton’s Legion, but they kept the whole Yankee army at bay until half-past two. Then just as Hampton was wounded and half his colonels shot, Cash and Kershaw (from Mrs. Smith Lee audibly, ”How about Kirby Smith?”) dashed in and not only turned the tide, but would have driven the fugitives into Washington, but Beauregard recalled them. Mr. Chesnut finds all this very amusing, as he posted many of the regiments and all the time was carrying orders over the field. The discrepancies in all these private memories amuse him, but he smiles pleasantly and lets every man tell the tale in his own way.
August 15.—At Arlington, Va., sixty noncommissioned officers and privates of the Second Maine Regiment of Volunteers, having formally and positively, in the presence of the regiment, refused to do any further duty whatever, alleging that they were not legally in the service of the United States, were, with the approval of the General-in-Chief, transferred, in arrest, from the regiment, as no longer worthy to serve with it, to be sent to the Dry Tortugas, in the Gulf of Mexico, there to perform such fatigue service as the officers commanding might assign them, until they should by their future conduct show themselves worthy to bear arms.—Army Orders.
—The Twenty-third Regiment of Indiana Volunteers, under the command of Col. Sanderson, left the camp near New Albany, for Indianapolis, and thence for the seat of war in Missouri.—Louisville Journal, August 16.
—Govenor Buckingham, of Connecticut, calls upon “the loyal and patriotic citizens of that State to organize in companies for four regiments of infantry.”—(Doc. 187.)
—Upon the refusal of Colonel Burke, the officer in command at Fort Lafayette in New York harbor, to produce his prisoners in court in response to a writ of habeas corpus, Judge Garrison of Kings Co., N. Y., who issued the writ, made formal application to General Duryea of the militia in Brooklyn to ascertain what force could be obtained by the county to execute the writ. General Duryea informed the sheriff that about fourteen hundred men could be raised, but that the county was in possession of no artillery sufficiently powerful to make an impression on the works, and that it would require between five and ten thousand men to take them.—N. Y. Evening Post, August 15.
—This afternoon the steamer Resolute was ordered from Aquia Creek to Matthias Point, Va., for the purpose of reconnoitring. Seeing a bateau filled with barrels on shore just below the point, a boat was sent from the Resolute with six men, to bring off the bateau. No sooner had the boat touched the beach than a volley of musket balls was opened upon them from a secession force concealed in the woods, killing three of the men instantly, namely—John James Fuller, of Brooklyn, master’s mate, who, it was subsequently ascertained, was pierced by two balls; George Seymour, captain of the gun, of New York, by seven, and Thomas Tully, of Boston, by two balls. Earnest Walter, a native of England, was wounded in the head. Another volley was fired by the enemy as they moved their position, or as soon as they had time to reload. The Resolute was about seven hundred yards from the shore, and fired in the midst of the rebels one shot of canister and nine of shrapnell. The scene on board the small boat is described as heart-sickening—the dead lying outstretched in it, covered with their own blood. The boat was towed a short distance from the shore by one of the crew named Sanderson, who quietly slipped into the water for that purpose, and thus concealed himself from the enemy. The other uninjured man lay in the boat, horrified by the scene through which he had just passed, while the wounded man helped Sanderson to row the boat toward the Reliance, from which assistance was immediately rendered.—(Doc. 188.)
