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

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Camp of the 83rd Regiment, Penn. Volunteers,

Hall’s Hill, Va., Nov. 13, 1861.

Dear Sister L.:—

I have been sorry many times since that I wrote in the strain I did in my last letter, because I see by yours that it caused you pain. I ought not to have written so, I know, but that morning I sat down and wrote just as I felt. I could not help it. The fact is, most of the boys, when they write home, write in as cheerful a strain as possible, knowing that their friends will magnify all their news that is at all unfavorable and dwell on their hardships, when it can do no good. I did not think that you had forgotten me and have not at any time, but I wanted to have you write.

You will see by my letter to Mother that we have been busy lately. We have drilled a great deal, and when I come in from drill I feel so tired it seems as though I could not think clearly enough to sit down and write. We have achieved a great victory in a peaceful way, and I expect the consequence will be that we will be ordered south. If the southern expedition is successful it will probably be followed by sending an army south to follow up its success by ours, and a good many of the troops here will be sent off there, and we among the number. I shall be glad of that. I would rather go further south than to winter here. It has not been very cold here yet. To-day is uncomfortably warm. We are having some beautiful weather, Indian summer days, and clear, moonlight nights.

Our last Sunday on guard we had a good time. One of the guards down by the woods heard a noise like some one coming through the bushes. He challenged, “Halt! Who goes there?” No answer. “Halt!” again. He did not stop, and after challenging again, he raised his gun and fired at the noise. The report rang all over camp, and there was a crowd there soon. An awful squeal greeted his ears immediately after his fire and the guards soon found the secesh to be a great hog that was wandering round in the woods. He was not killed, but his countenance was awfully disfigured. He squealed his best till another load through his head stopped his noise.

Three of us rigged ourselves out in our most horrible shape the other night when we got the countersign, and went over to the Michigan regiment. We approached the sentinel, when he halted us and demanded, “Who goes there?” I replied in a theatrical voice, “The devil with the countersign.” The poor fellow was some dashed, but he finally recovered and replied, “Advance, one devil, and give the countersign. The countersign’s correct. Pass devils.” To the next challenge I replied, “A flock of sheep.” The guard was up to time then and immediately replied, “Advance, old buck, and give the countersign.” We made quite a round and had a lot of fun and came back with something to laugh over. One poor fellow shot off his middle finger the other night. 11c will have a sore time of it.

13th. By permission of the Colonel went to Uncle Jones’, took my fatigue coat. Supper at Uncle Albert’s—a pleasant visit.

Post image for “”It was, indeed, a magnificent sight, to see six hundred horses harnessed to a hundred wagons, in full run, in line..,”–Journal of Surgeon Alfred L. Castleman.

13th.—The Regiment received two months’ pay to-day, and to-night are all busy as bees making up express packages, to be sent to fathers, mothers, sisters, sweethearts and wives. To-morrow, all who can get passes to go, will be in Washington buying presents and sitting before a camera to “stain the glass” with reflections from their faces, all to be sent to friends at home. As man, in the mass, can be, in no condition, however bright, which will exempt him from cares, fears and apprehensions, so there is none so dark as to exclude hopes and anticipations of better things. Even here we have our joys and our aspirations, and these are of them. We preach that man should study to be contented. What! man in his imperfect condition, contented, that he, as an individual, or as a part of a great whole, should remain forever, as he is! It is opposed to all God’s plans. Discontent is the only stairway to progress. Through the discontent of Israel, Egyptian bondage was broken. The discontent of Russia brought war, which more than compensated for its ravages and its horrors, by the introduction of her people to a knowledge of liberal ideas. Czarism was shaken, and already the Goddess of Liberty waves her cap over the downfall of serfdom. The seceder’s discontent in England was the Genesis of a mighty nation. Elijah cast off the cloak, too small for his growing aspirations, whilst his followers eagerly grasped its folds to aid their progression. The discontent of an Almighty God substituted Noah for Adam— Christ for Diana—Eternity for Time. And is the discontent which occasioned this great war, with all its horrors, its butcheries, its temporary demoralization, to have no great result? Is it a bare interlude of the parties engaged, taking advantage of the time when “God sleepeth;” or is it a spark emitted from the great restless spirit of Jehovah, destined to ignite into a “pillar of fire,” and to light us on in the journey of universal progress?

Hope springs eternal—”

I have to-day seen a “speck of war,” with another touch of Vandalism. I have, for the first time, seen an army in drill. Fifteen to twenty thousand men, a thousand horses, and one hundred artillery wagons, on parade. To me, who had never seen anything of the kind, it was grand, and looked like war. I note here an extract of a letter written to a friend to-day, attempting a description of part of it: “It was, indeed, a magnificent sight, to see six hundred horses harnessed to a hundred wagons, in full run, in line, like a regiment of infantry, and at a word of command, to become so instantly and inconcievably mixed that you would think a universal smash inevitable, appear in another instant dashing across the vast plain without a wagon attached. Turn your eyes to see the wrecks, and you will be surprised to see the carriages in four straight lines, forming a hollow square, with the mouth of every gun pointing outwardly, and a laughing expression of “Surround me if you dare!” Another look will show you that the carriages are so close together that the horses can not pass between them, yet the wagon poles to which the horses had been hitched are all inside of the square. How did the six hundred horses get out? The cannon at once open their hundred mouths and are enveloped in smoke. The horses return, disappear for a moment in the dense smoke, and seemingly without their stopping long enough to be hitched to, the four lines straighten out into column, and the cavalcade is again dashing across the plain. In less than forty rods, the jumble is repeated, the square formed, the horses gone, and the hundred cannons again open. When did they reload?” The vandalism: The finest orchard I have seen in Virginia, was cut down today, and in one hour converted into a brush-heap; and for no other purpose than to give the infantry a chance to “show off” in an hour’s parade. The fruit trees were in the way, and were cut down! It will take forty years to replace that orchard.

WEDNESDAY 13

Another warm pleasant day. Went down to the War Dept with Lieut Gaul to see the Ajutant Genl, came back by the Post office. Have been at home the rest of the day, have exacted lessons from the boys in their school books. Positive news from the Fleet obtained at last, everywhere successful. An immense Union force now on the other side of the Potomac. The Camps extend back 8 or 10 miles from the River. Julia is rather better.

______

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.

Wednesday, 13th—The weather is getting cold, which makes it rather disagreeable eating our meals at the long tables outside the barracks; besides, the coffee and victuals cool off so quickly.

November 13th.—Mr. Charles Green, who was my host at Savannah, and Mr. Low, of the same city, have been arrested and sent to Fort Warren. Dining with Mr. Seward, I heard accidentally that Mrs. Low had also been arrested, but was now liberated. The sentiment of dislike towards England is increasing, because English subjects have assisted the South by smuggling and running the blockade. “It is strange,” said Mr. Seward the other day, “that this great free and civilized Union should be supported by Germans, coming here semi-civilized or half-savage, who plunder and destroy as if they were living in the days of Agricola, whilst the English are the great smugglers who support our enemies in their rebellion.” I reminded him that the United States flag had covered the smugglers who carried guns and matériel of war to Russia, although they were at peace with France and England. “Yes, but then,” said he, “that was a legitimate contest between great established powers, and I admit, though I lament the fact, that the public sympathy in this country ran with Russia during that war.” The British public have a right to their sympathies too, and the Government can scarcely help it if private individuals aid the South on their own responsibility. In future, British subjects will be indicted instead of being sent to Fort La Fayette. Mr. Seward feels keenly the attacks in the New York Tribune on him for arbitrary arrests, and representations have been made to Mr. Greeley privately on the subject; nor is he indifferent to similar English criticisms.

General McDowell asserts there is no nation in the world whose censure or praise the people of the United States care about except England, and with respect to her there is a morbid sensitiveness which can neither be explained nor justified.

It is admitted, indeed, by Americans whose opinions are valuable, that the popular feeling was in favour of Russia during the Crimean war. Mr. Raymond attributes the circumstance to the influence of the large Irish element; but I am inclined to believe it is partly due at least to the feeling of rivalry and dislike to Great Britain, in which the mass of the American people are trained by their early education, and also in some measure to the notion that Russia was unequally matched in the contest.

November 13. — Had a good march down to Gauley — the whole Third Brigade under General Schenck. Weather warm as summer, almost hot. Crossed New River at ferry near its mouth, worked by Captain Lane and his good men, thence down left bank of the Kanawha to the road from Montgomery Ferry to Fayetteville, thence about two miles to Huddleston’s farm, where we bivouacked among briars and devil’s-needles — officers in corn fodder in a crib. The band played its best tunes as we crossed New River, Captain Lane remarking, “I little hoped to see such a sight a week ago when the enemy were cannonading us.” About 10:30 o’clock General Schenck got a dispatch from General Benham saying Floyd was on the run and he in pursuit, and urging us to follow. At midnight the men were aroused and at one we were on the way.

Bird’s Point, November 13, 1861.

Home once more. We all call this home now. Just as we landed last night the Iowa 7th was forming for dress parade. One company had but 11 and another but 15 men; all that came out of the Belmont fight safely. Other companies had half and some three-fourths of their men they started with. General Grant tries to make out that there were about 150 or 175 men lost on our side, but I’ll stake my life that we lost not less than 500. I am sure that the 22d Illinois lost not less than 175, the 7th Iowa at least 200, and the other three regiments 150 more. Grant says that he achieved a victory and accomplished the object of his expedition. It may be so (the latter part of it) but almost every one here doubts the story. He says his object was to threaten Columbus, to keep them from sending reinforcements to Price. Well he has threatened them, had a fight, and why they can’t send reinforcements now as well as before, is more than I know. I never will believe that it was necessary to sacrifice two as good regiments as there were in the West, to accomplish all that I can see has been done this time. Altogether there were some 6,000 men from here, Cape Girardeau and Ironton, on the expedition that our regiment was on marching by different roads. Grant says now that we were all after Jeff Thompson. I don’t believe it. I think the Paducah forces were to take Columbus, Grant was going to swallow Belmont, we were to drive all the guerrillas before us to New Madrid, and then with Paducah forces and Grant’s we were to take Madrid and probably go on to Memphis or maybe join Fremont with our Army of say 15,000 men. Well, Grant got whipped at Belmont, and that scared him so that he countermanded all our orders and took all the troops back to their old stations by forced marches. There was some very good fighting done at Belmont by both sides. The 22d Illinois and 7th Iowa did about all the fighting, and sustained much the heaviest loss. The boys are not the least discouraged and they all want to go back and try it again. The whole camp has the Columbus fever, and I don’t believe there are 20 men that would take a furlough if they thought an advance would be made on Columbus while they were absent. The enemy there are very well fed, clothed and armed. Arkansas and Tennessee troops with some Mississippians. The retreat was a route, for our men were scattered everywhere. I don’t care what the papers say, the men that were in it say that every man took care of himself, and hardly two men of a regiment were together. The men ran because they were scattered and saw that the force against them was overwhelming, but the universal testimony is that there was no panic, nine out of ten of the men came on the boats laughing and joking. They had been fighting six or seven hours, and cannon and musketry couldn’t scare them any more. There are hundreds of stories, and good ones, out but I always spoil them by trying to put them on paper.

Friday, December 13.— Another beautiful winter day — cold, quiet. Sun strong enough to thaw all mud and ice. No ice on streams yet that will bear a man. Building redoubts at either end of town. Since I came to Virginia in July, I have not shaved; for weeks at a time I have slept in all clothes except boots (occasionally in boots and sometimes with spurs), a half dozen times on the ground without shelter, once on the snow. I have wore [worn] no white clothing (shirts, drawers, etc.) for four months; no collar or neckerchief or tie of any sort for two months; and have not been the least unwell until since I have taken winter quarters here in a comfortable house. Now I have but a slight cold.

NOVEMBER 13TH.—Dry goods have risen more than a hundred per cent since spring, and rents and boarding are advancing in the same ratio.