Saturday, 28th—Moved Camp out near Beech Grove. I and Polk Kyle sent on forage, bought a stack of hay. Staid all night with Mr. Carlisle.
February 2013
Destruction of the Famous Confederate Privateer Nashville, in the Ogeechee River, Georgia, by the Union Iron-Clad Montauk, Capt. Worden, Feb. 28.
Published in the March 28, 1863 issue of Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper.
February 28.—General R. E. Lee, commanding the rebel army in Virginia, issued an order reviewing its operations for the year 1862.—(Doc. 126.)
—The armed rebel steamer Nashville, while aground under the guns of Fort McAllister, on the Great Ogeechee River, Ga., was this day destroyed by the United States gunboat Montauk, under the command of Captain J. L. Worden.— (Doc. 127.)
London, February 27, 1863
Have you ever seen the narrative by the Prince of Joinville of the events of the campaign of McClellan against Richmond? It seems to me remarkably well done. I think he touches as with a needle’s point the radical defect of our military system. They have always impaired the efficiency of our troops. I can see clearly the reason why we have not made an adequate use of the multitude we have summoned to the field. Two armies of a hundred thousand men each, properly officered, would have done more than our million.
In the meantime the people of this country have so far changed their views as it respects our share in the strife, as to give me a fresh source of occupation in the work of transmitting addresses and resolutions of crowded meetings everywhere. The anti-slavery feeling has been astonishingly revived by the President’s proclamation and the kindly disposition by the supplies furnished to Lancashire. It is however to be noted that all this manifestation comes from the working and middle classes. The malevolence of the aristocracy continues just as strong as ever. Every item of news that favors the notion of division and disintegration is eagerly caught up. I only wish our people could be here a little while and see what is hoped from their differences of opinion. If it did not have the effect of smoothing them all down into the pursuit of a common object, then there is not a particle of patriotism left among them….
[Diary] February 27.
They tell me that my name — L. Towne — on so many boxes of herring, barrels of molasses, and hogsheads of pork made great inquiry as to who this large consignee could be. When some of the officers in Beaufort heard it was a lady, they drew a picture of a tall, rawboned woman, sitting on a hogshead of molasses. When one of the officers was introduced to me in school, he said, “Is it possible that this is Miss Towne? I thought she was very tall and thin.”
Mrs. Lyon’s Diary.
Feb. 27, 1863.—Went with the ladies to the photographer’s. Took a long walk on the new bridge and to the sutler’s. Mrs. Warren treated us to some apples, being the only lady that had any money. Nearly pay day.
February 27th [1863]. Invited to dine at Mrs. Dameron’s. Went. It rained all day. Had quite a defense to make of the Episcopalians and Catholics to Mrs. White. How the Methodists do hate other denominations. So do the Presbyterians. I rarely hear Episcopalians speak illiberally. I hate bigotry. I believe that the churches have aided to harden people’s hearts against one another. There is nothing so narrowing as sectarianism.
27th. After breakfast played two games of chess with Case. Got beaten. Ordered to move to Covington immediately, then countermanded. Wrote to the boy William. God bless him and lead him. Thede came over. Went down and looked at a horse he thought of taking. Read in Scott’s “Waverly.” Music in Q. M. D.
Friday, 27th—We received orders to clean up for general inspection. Captain Beach of Company H of the Eleventh Iowa having been appointed to go after and bring back any deserters from our brigade, left for Iowa to get all such found in the State.
Memphis, Friday, Feb. 27. Pleasant day. Oiled our harness in the afternoon. Troubled with diarrhea severely. Rec’d a letter from home, they being in great anxiety about me, as my letters did not arrive at their destination. Poor mother. I have thought much of you since reading it, and may I spare no pains keeping you easy, is my prayer.
