July 18th. To-day great droves of beef cattle were driven into camp and slaughtered, and three days’ cooked rations prepared, and issued to all the troops; we got enough to completely fill our haversacks, and load us down uncomfortably. Nothing occurred during the day worth mentioning, the band played frequently while we cleaned our muskets, filled our cap pouches and cartridge boxes, and otherwise prepared for the great battle so near at hand. The camp is full of rumors, but nothing trustworthy.
London, July 18, 1861
I Have engaged a house1 which will I hope be more convenient. It is not in quite so fashionable or so noisy a situation, but it is amply and in some respects richly furnished, and is in a very good neighborhood. My engagement is only for a year, and even that may be shortened if the Earl of Derby should come into the ministry. For my landlord, who is in Parliament, hopes to get back to the same place he had before, Under Secretary for Foreign Affairs, in which contingency he will want his house in May next. In the exact condition of our affairs I have not considered the arrangement so bad as I might otherwise have done. Our relations with this country are now in a promising condition. I have no idea that anybody means war. But a blockade which shuts up the cotton crop is not unlikely to try the nerves of our friends a little, and to elicit causes of difference that may prove difficult to settle. . . .
I think I have attained a tolerable idea of the texture of London society. I have seen most of the men of any reputation, literary or political. The conclusion is not favorable, so far as the comparison with other periods is concerned. Lord Palmerston, Mr. Gladstone, Lord John Russell and Lords Derby and Ellenborough are the orators. Mr. D’Israeli perhaps might be included. Thackeray, Senior, Monckton Milnes, Grote, Lord Stanhope, and Mr. Reeve, the editor of the Edinburgh Review, constitute pretty much the literature. Perhaps I should include Milman. Gladstone and Cornewall Lewis are the scholar politicians. Intermixed with all these are men of education, if not of eminence, who contribute a share to the common stock of society. But I have not yet been to a single entertainment where there was any conversation that I should care to remember. This is not much of a record as compared with the early part of the present or the close of the last century, with the days of Queen Anne, or of Elizabeth. The general aspect of society is profound gravity. People look serious at a ball, at a dinner, on a ride on horseback or in a carriage, in Parliament or at Court, in the theatres or at the galleries. The great object in life is social position. To this end domestic establishments are sustained to rival each other. The horses must be fine, the carriage as large and cumbrous as possible, the servants as showy in livery as anybody’s, the dinners must be just so, the china of Sevres and the plate of silver, the wines of the same quality and growth, not because each person takes pleasure in the display, but because everybody else does the same thing. And so it is through all the economy of social life. The difference is only in the amount of wealth applicable to each particular instance. Yet with all this there is a studied avoidance of all appearance of ostentation. It is not the fashion to parade titles, scarcely even to use them. I do not think I have heard even the most ordinary forms of address to the nobility resorted to more than a dozen times or so. At one dinner I was surprised to hear a lady spoken to several times as “Duchess” rather than “your Grace.” But etiquette is rigid. A white cravat at dinner is indispensable, as well as patent leather shoes, and each person has his distinct place according to the rules which are laid down in the books, in which he must fulfil all his duties to every other person in every, the most exact particular.
Some people say this is true of the London season only. When these same people go to their estates in the country the case is altered. There they are easy and sociable. It may be so, but I doubt it. The Englishman is formal by nature, and he is made so by education. The only question with him is upon the greater or the less. His kindness is all according to rule. If he invites you to his house, he does not think it any part of his duty to put you at your ease there. You must work your own way to acquaintance. He will not help you unless you ask him to do so, and if you do, you subject yourself to a chance of being repelled, unless your situation is such as to make your acquaintance deemed desirable. This is the reason why strangers make so little headway in incorporating themselves into society, and why they seek other countries to dwell in. I know of many Americans in London, but I see scarcely any in the places I am invited to, and these owe their admission to some exceptional recommendation rather than civility or good will. . . .
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1 No. 5 Mansfield Street, belonging to Sir William Robert Seymour Vesey Fitzgerald
CAMP CHASE, July 18, 1861.
DEAR UNCLE:—I have just read your letter of the 16th. I hope it is good proof that you are mending rapidly. It is pleasant to see your own handwriting again.
Our men are uniformed and we are daily receiving our needful equipments. The indications are that we shall soon move. In what direction and under whose command, we do not know. We are not very particular. We prefer the mountainous region of Virginia or Tennessee.
If Ned, Jr. was down here, I would try what could be done with him. But the travelling is done so much by rail, that I hardly need two horses. My sorrel is a good one.
My notion is that we shall go within a fortnight. Lucy and the two boys will stay until we go with Platt. Come down if you can, but not at the risk of health. Write often. No letters are so good as yours.
Sincerely,
R. B. HAYES.
S. BIRCHARD.
JULY 18TH.—The major is sick again, and Jacques is away; therefore I have too much work, and the colonel groans for me. He is proud of the appointments he made with such rapidity, and has been complimented. And in truth there is no reason why the thousands of applications should not be acted on promptly; and there are many against delay. A large army must be organized immediately, and it will be necessary to appoint thousands of field and staff officers—unless all the governors are permitted to do as Gov. Brown desires to do. The Secretary is in better health, and quite condescending. My work pleases him; and I shouldn’t be astonished if he resented the sudden absence of Mr. Jacques. But he should consider that Mr. J. is only an amateur clerk getting no pay, rich, and independent of the government.
July 18.—During the last ten days we have been visiting among our friends, near Berryville, and in Winchester. The wheat harvest is giving the most abundant yield, and the fields are thick with corn. Berryville is a little village surrounded by the most beautiful country and delightful society. Patriotism burns brightly there, and every one is busy for the country in his or her own way. It is cheering to be among such people; the ladies work, and the gentlemen— the old ones—no young man is at home—give them every facility. But Winchester, what shall I say for Winchester that will do it justice? It is now a hospital. The soldiers from the far South have never had measles, and most unfortunately it has broken out among them, and many of them have died of it, notwithstanding the attention of surgeons and nurses. No one can imagine the degree of self-sacrificing attention the ladies pay them; they attend to their comfort in every respect; their nourishment is prepared at private houses; every lady seems to remember that her son, brother, or husband may be placed in the same situation among strangers, and to be determined to do unto others as she would have others to do unto her.
War still rages. Winchester is fortified, and General Johnston has been reinforced. He now awaits General Patterson, who seems slowly approaching.
While in Winchester, I heard of the death of one who has been for many years as a sister to me—Mrs. L. A. P., of S. H., Hanover County. My heart is sorely stricken by it, particularly when I think of her only child, and the many who seemed dependent on her for happiness. She died on Saturday last. With perfect resignation to the will of God, she yielded up her redeemed spirit, without a doubt of its acceptance. In coelo quies. There is none for us here.
We have been dreadfully shocked by the defeat at Rich Mountain and the death of General Garnett! It is the first repulse we have had, and we should not complain, as we were overpowered by superior numbers; but we have so much to dread from superior numbers—they are like the sand upon the sea-shore for multitude. Our men say that one Southern man is equal to three Yankees. Poor fellows! I wish that their strength may be equal to their valour. It is hard to give up such a man as General Garnett. He was son of the late Hon. Robert S. Garnett, of Essex County; educated at West Point; accomplished and gallant. His military knowledge and energy will be sadly missed. It was an unfortunate stroke, the whole affair; but we must hope on, and allow nothing to depress us.
I have just returned from a small hospital which has recently been established in a meeting-house near us. The convalescent are sent down to recruit for service, and to recover their strength in the country, and also to relieve the Winchester hospitals. The ladies of the neighbourhood are doing all they can to make them comfortable. They are full of enthusiasm, and seem to be very cheerful, except when they speak of home. They are hundreds of miles from wife, children, and friends. Will they ever see them again? I have been particularly interested in one who is just recovering from typhoid fever. I said to him as I sat fanning him: “Are yon married?” His eyes filled with tears as he replied, “Not now; I have been, and my little children, away in Alabama, are always in my mind. At first I thought I could not leave the little motherless things, but then our boys were all coming, and mother said, ‘Go, Jack, the country must have men, and you must bear your part, and I will take care of the children;’ and then I went and ‘listed, and when I went back home for my things, and saw my children, I ‘most died like. ‘Mother,’ says I, ‘I am going, and father must take my corn, my hogs, and every thing else he likes, and keep my children; but if I never get back, I know it will be a mighty burden in your old age; but I know you will do your best.’ ‘Jack,’ says she, ‘I will do a mother’s part by them; but you must not talk that way. Why should you get killed more than another? You will get back, and then we shall be so happy. God will take care of you, I know He will.'” He then took a wallet from under his pillow, and took two locks of hair: “This is Peter’s, he is three years old; and this is Mary’s, she is a little more than one, and named after her mother, and was just stepping about when I left home.” At that recollection, tears poured down his bronzed cheeks, and I could not restrain my own. I looked at the warm-hearted soldier, and felt that he was not the less brave for shedding tears at the recollection of his dead wife, his motherless children, and his brave old mother. I find that the best way to nurse them, when they are not too sick to bear it, is to talk to them of home. They then cease to feel to you as a stranger, and finding that you take interest in their “short and simple annals,” their natural reserve gives way, and they at once feel themselves among friends.
—This morning a general order was issued at Fairfax Court House, Va., by General McDowell, deprecating the disorderly conduct of the troops under his command in destroying the property of the inhabitants of the town, and appointing a police force from each regiment to secure the preservation of such property. It was read to every regiment in the army of the Potomac.—(Doc. 100.)
—A large and enthusiastic Union meeting composed of the citizens of Broome and Chenango counties, New York, was held to-day. Addresses were made by Daniel 8. Dickinson and George Baillet, and resolutions approving the acts of the Federal Government in the present crisis, were unanimously adopted.— (Doc. 101.)
—The Tammany Regiment or Jackson Guard, N. Y. S. V., under the command of Colonel Wm. D. Kennedy, left its encampment at Great Neck, Long Island, for the scene of the war.— N. Y. World, July 19.
—In the House of Representatives, Washington, the Committee to whom was referred the resolution to inquire whether or not the Hon. Henry May, of Maryland, was in criminal intercourse with those in armed rebellion against the Government, submitted a report that there was no evidence of Mr. May’s guilt in that particular, the resolution having been based on mere newspaper statements. The report also exculpated the President and General Scott from all suspicion of a correspondence with though rebels through Mr. May’s agency. Upon the adoption of this report, Mr. May addressed the House upon the subject of the inquiry, warmly denouncing it as an unparalleled outrage upon his constituents, whose rights as freemen, he said, had been previously stricken down and trampled in the dust by the Administration, through its military power. His remarks were interrupted by Mr. Stevens, of Pennsylvania, who interposed a point of order, which, being sustained by the House, Mr. May declined to avail himself of the permission to proceed in order, announcing his purpose to vindicate himself on a future occasion. He presented the memorial of the Police Commissioners of Baltimore. Ex-Governor Thomas, of Maryland, replied to Mr. May in a vigorous speech, in which he maintained that the recent election demonstrated conclusively the fact that a vast majority of the people of Maryland entirely approved the military measures of the Administration, and of the present attitude of the State.
In the United States Senate the bill for the better organization of the military establishment being under consideration, Mr. Powell moved an amendment declaring that no part of the Army or Navy should be used for the subjugation of any sovereign State, or in any way to interfere with African slavery. A sharp debate followed on the purposes of the war. Mr. Sherman, Republican, said the war was not one of subjugation, but merely intended to maintain the integrity of the Union, and moved as a substitute for Mr. Powell’s amendment a resolution declaring that “the military be employed to preserve the Union and protect the public property.”
—The Philadelphia Press of to-day contains an interesting account of affairs in Richmond, Va. It will be seen that the steel-clad steamer Yorktown is about to attempt to force her way through our fleet, and that infernal machines are being prepared to injure our vessels and forts. A very decided reaction in public sentiment among the working classes has recently occurred, and, like many of the troops, they are heartily sick of the Secession movement, and anxious for the re-establishment of the National authority over the whole country. The slaves are well apprised of the movements of our army, and many of them earnestly desire its success. Several regiments have recently been sent from “West Tennessee into the eastern part of that State to overawe the Union men there. The effects of the blockade are seriously felt, but some important articles are still obtained from the North.—(Doc. 102.)
—This afternoon Major Van Horn’s command of United States Reserve Home Guards of Kansas City, Mo., numbering about 170 men, was attacked by 600 rebels under Capt. Duncan, thirteen miles north of Harrisonville. The fight lasted four hours, during which time a continued firing was kept up on both sides. At twenty minutes past six o’clock the rebels withdrew, leaving the United States troops victorious. The loss of the rebels was fourteen killed, including two officers, and several wounded; while that of the United States forces was only one killed. At 12 o’clock the United States troops continued their march, crossing Grand River, but they were compelled to leave three of their baggage wagons on the bank of the river in consequence of high water. Major Van Horn left Kansas City on the 17th for the purpose of reinforcing Maj. Dean, now holding West Point, Missouri, with a small force, he having routed 1,000 rebels at that place. Major Van Horn’s command was attacked while at dinner. They planted their flag-staff at 2 o’clock, never giving way an inch nor removing the flag till after the rebels withdrew. The rebels endeavored to flank them on the left with a company of cavalry, but were completely routed by a detailed force under Captain Butler.—N. Y. World, July 23.
—The Federal army left Fairfax Court House, Va., this morning and took up its line of march in the direction of Centreville. General McDowell, in a despatch to head-quarters at Washington, gives the position of the several divisions of his army to-day.—(Doc. 103.)
—An engagement took place at Blackburn’s Ford, four miles south of Centreville, Va., this afternoon. General Tyler’s division encamped last night a few miles east of Centreville, and this morning proceeded toward that point. Centreville was passed in safety, and the troops turned from Little River turnpike road to the Manassas road. On the road information was received that a masked battery was on the left of the road ahead, and Colonel Richardson, in command of the Fourth Brigade, was ordered to reconnoitre, while the remainder of the division remained in the vicinity of Centreville.
Col. Richardson proceeded with three companies of the Massachusetts First Regiment, being the Chelsea company, the Fusileers, and the National Guards. They passed across an open ravine and again entered the road, which was densely surrounded by woods, when they were received by a raking fire from the left, killing a number of the advance.
They gallantly sustained their position and covered the retreat of a brass cannon of Sherman’s battery, the horses having been completely disabled by the fire, until relieved by the Michigan Second, and the New York Twelfth Regiments, when they fell back.
The Federal forces then took a position on the top of a hill. Two rifle cannons were planted in front, supported by Captain Brockett’s Company B, Second Cavalry, with a line of infantry composed of the Second Regiment of Michigan, and the Twelfth Regiment of New York in the rear. A steady fire was kept up on both sides in this position.
The rebels had two batteries of eight pieces in a position commanding the road. They used their guns well, except that they fired sometimes too high,—but they were gallantly forced by the national troops. “They did not reply to our regular fire for half an hour,” says a correspondent, “during which time they were receiving large reinforcements. In the mean time Col. Richardson’s brigade reconnoitered the woods. While we were again thus advancing we were met with a raking fire. Our guns were again put in position, and we poured grape and canister among the enemy till the supply was exhausted.”
At half-past four o’clock, General Tyler ordered his troops to retire, it being necessary to relieve Captain Brackett’s cavalry, which had alone the most effective service. The day was exceedingly hot, and the horses thirsted for water, which could only be obtained at Centreville.—(Doc. 104.)
July 17th.—I went up to General Scott’s quarters, and saw some of his staff—young men, some of whom knew nothing of soldiers, not even the enforcing of drill—and found them reflecting, doubtless, the shades which cross the mind of the old chief, who was now seeking repose. M’Dowell is to advance to-morrow from Fairfax Court House, and will march some eight or ten miles to Centreville, directly in front of which, at a place called Manassas, stands the army of the Southern enemy. I look around me for a staff, and look in vain. There are a few plodding old pedants, with map and rules and compasses, who sit in small rooms and write memoranda; and there are some ignorant and not very active young men, who loiter about the head-quarters’ halls, and strut up the street with brass spurs on their heels and kepis raked over their eyes as though they were soldiers, but I see no system, no order, no knowledge, no dash!
The worst-served English general has always a young fellow or two about him who can fly across country, draw a rough sketch map, ride like a foxhunter, and find something out about the enemy and their position, understand and convey orders, and obey them. I look about for the types of these in vain. M’Dowell can find out nothing about the enemy; he has not a trustworthy map of the country; no knowledge of their position, force, or numbers. All the people, he says, are against the Government. Fairfax Court House was abandoned as he approached, the enemy in their retreat being followed by the inhabitants. “Where were the Confederate entrenchments?” Only in the imagination of those New York newspapers; when they want to fill up a column they write a full account of the enemy’s fortifications. No one can contradict them at the time, and it’s a good joke when it’s found out to be a lie.” Colonel Cullum went over the maps with me at General Scott’s, and spoke with some greater confidence of McDowell’s prospects of success. There is a considerable force of Confederates at a place called Winchester, which is connected with Manassas by rail, and this force could be thrown on the right of the Federals as they advanced, but that another corps, under Patterson, is in observation, with orders to engage them if they attempt to move eastwards.
The batteries for which General M’Dowell was looking last night have arrived, and were sent on this morning. One is under Barry, of the United States regular artillery, whom I met at Fort Pickens. The other is a volunteer battery. The onward movement of the army has been productive of a great improvement in the streets of Washington, which are no longer crowded with turburlent and disorderly volunteers, or by soldiers disgracing the name, who accost you in the by-ways for money. There are comparatively few to-day; small shoals, which have escaped the meshes of the net, are endeavouring to make the most of their time before they cross the river to face the enemy.
Still horse-hunting, but in vain—Gregson, Wroe—et hoc genus omne. Nothing to sell except at unheard-of rates; tripeds, and the like, much the worse for wear, and yet possessed of some occult virtues, in right of which the owners demanded egregious sums. Everywhere I am offered a gig or a vehicle of some kind or another, as if the example of General Scott had rendered such a mode of campaigning the correct thing. I saw many officers driving over the Log Bridge with large stores of provisions, either unable to procure horses or satisfied that a waggon was the chariot of Mars. It is not fair to ridicule either officers or men of this army, and if they were not so inflated by a pestilent vanity, no one would dream of doing so; but the excessive bragging and boasting in which the volunteers and the press indulge really provoke criticism and tax patience and forbearance overmuch. Even the regular officers, who have some idea of military efficiency, rather derived from education and foreign travels than from actual experience, bristle up and talk proudly of the patriotism of the army, and challenge the world to show such another, although in their hearts, and more, with their lips, they own they do not depend on them. The white heat of patriotism has cooled down to a dull black; and I am told that the gallant volunteers, who are to conquer the world when they “have got through with their present little job,” are counting up the days to the end of their service, and openly declare they will not stay a day longer. This is pleasant, inasmuch as the end of the term of many of M’Dowell’s, and most of Patterson’s, three months men, is near at hand. They have been raring luxuriously at the expense of the Government—they have had nothing to do—they have had enormous pay— they knew nothing, and were worthless as to soldiering when they were enrolled. Now, having gained all these advantages, and being likely to be of use for the first time, they very quietly declare they are going to sit under their fig-trees, crowned with civic laurels and myrtles, and all that sort of thing. But who dare say they are not splendid fellows—full-blooded heroes, patriots, and warriors—men before whose majestic presence all Europe pales and faints away?
In the evening I received a message to say that the advance of the army would take place to-morrow as soon as General M’Dowell had satisfied himself by a reconnaissance that he could carry out his plan of turning the right of the enemy by passing Occaguna Creek. Along Pennsylvania Avenue, along the various shops, hotels, and drinking-bars, groups of people were collected, listening to the most exaggerated accounts of desperate fighting and of the utter demoralisation of the rebels. I was rather amused by hearing the florid accounts which were given in the hall of Willard’s by various inebriated officers, who were drawing upon their imagination for their facts, knowing, as I did, that the entrenchments at Fairfax had been abandoned without a shot on the advance of the Federal troops. The New York papers came in with glowing descriptions of the magnificent march of the grand army of the Potomac, which was stated to consist of upwards of 70,000 men; whereas I knew not half that number were actually on the field. Multitudes of people believe General Winfield Scott, who was now fast asleep in his modest bed in Pennsylvania Avenue, is about to take the field in person. The horse-dealers are still utterly impracticable. A citizen who owned a dark bay, spavined and ringboned, asked me one thousand dollars for the right of possession. I ventured to suggest that it was not worth the money. “Well.” said he, “take it or leave it. If you want to see this fight a thousand dollars is cheap. I guess there were chaps paid more than that to see Jenny Lind on her first night; and this battle is not going to be repeated, I can tell you. The price of horses will rise when the chaps out there have had themselves pretty well used up with bowie-knives and six-shooters.”
WEDNESDAY 17
All the Union or 27th Regt did not go yesterday, about a hundred men were left until today. They left this afternoon. Elder Buck (the Chaplin) (from Lyons) and Lieut Gould of Rochester took breakfast with us. Some of the men of the Lyons Co took dinner with us and my wife sent over dinner to others. Nothing is heard yet of Genl McDowells Army. We expect they are at Fairfax C.H. before this. I was at Willards this evening, an excited crowd.
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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.
(April to the middle of July)
Arrangements were made to quarter the regiment in the various sail lofts and store-houses. Double bunks, three tiers high, built to hold two men each, filled the room, with numerous narrow passages running between them. My company was assigned the upper floor of the first store room to the left, on entering. Company A and the band having the ground floor. In one corner of our room was a little partition, separating the company officers. The place was commodious enough, and kept scrupulously clean. I was given an upper front berth, in company with a young fellow from New Jersey named Dodd, and together we passed three months as bedfellows on the best of terms. He was bright, intelligent, and proved a pleasant companion.
This yard is a most delightful spot, particularly at this season of the year. It is entirely enclosed with a high brick wall, having a fine entrance, ornamented with anchors, cannons, and other naval devices. A beautiful, well shaded avenue runs from the entrance to the water, flanked by pretty grass plots; at many of the angles are picturesque arrangements of cannon balls, curious old cannons, etc. Around the top wall are perched little sentry boxes within sight of each other and hailing distance; in them our regiment performs most of its duty, and of a fine moonlight night, the sentries pacing up and down the walls, peering into the dark shadows of the outside world, seemed very romantic. Every time the clock strikes after dark, the sentinels call off the hours, adding in a singing voice, “and all’s well!” These calls are repeated throughout the entire circuit of the wall; if there is any interruption, the sergeant of the guard is soon on hand to know the reason why. On Friday, May 3d, in the afternoon, we were paraded for review by General McDowell, Inspector General, U. S. A., and after the drill, were mustered into the United States service in our company quarters; having now become United States troops, we settled down to regular garrison routine, drilling assiduously, two hours every morning and every afternoon, occasionally firing at targets with ball cartridges. This part of the duty we liked, and averaged very fair shooting, although we were obliged to fire with bayonets fixed, which made the musket too heavy for me to hold steady enough for good shooting. Every evening at five o’clock, we fell in for dress parade on the main avenue, which became the fashion for the aristocrats of the city, and scores of fine ladies drove to the yard every evening, to see the parade and listen to the superb music of Dodworth’s band. The regiment, after it received its uniforms, made a fine appearance, drilled with great precision, and had the reputation of being a swell affair; this gave it great importance in the eyes of society people. It is in fact, a regiment mostly of very fine looking young fellows.
Our food is cooked by men employed for that purpose, so we have none but strictly military duties to perform; of course we wash our own clothes, and at first found it rather hard work to get our flannel shirts clean in cold water, but outside of this, and keeping our own quarters well swept, we do no police duty, that being done by marines on duty in the yard. By degrees we became initiated into the mysteries of a soldier’s life. Reveille sounds at daybreak, when all hands turn out, dress themselves, and fall in for roll call; this over, we put our quarters in order, then go to the hydrants in the street and perform our morning ablutions, stripped to the waist, dousing ourselves liberally with cold water, subsequently adjusting, with nice accuracy, our fresh paper collars. At seven A. M. we fall in for breakfast in one rank, march to the kitchen, and through a window receive a cup of coffee, and large slice of bread; we have the same for tea, but dinner is varied — salt pork, fresh beef, corned beef in daily rotation, with abundance of bean soup — constitutes this meal. We sit around on the curbstones to eat, and generally a great many fashionable people remain after the parade to see us dispose of our evening meal.
There is plenty of sport, fencing, leaping, running, and forever playing tricks on each other. In the evening we lie in our bunks (having no chairs or benches) and read or write, a candle stuck in the socket of a bayonet, jammed in the side of the bunk, furnishing the necessary light. Tattoo at half past eight, and taps at nine, when every light must go out, without exception. If there are any delinquents, a shower of boots, shoes, or other handy material, whizzes around their candle in the twinkling of an eye, accompanied with loud and continuous yells of “douse the glint.” The great diversion, however, is the correspondence. Everybody at home wants to hear from us, and we like to receive letters, so there is an immense amount of letter writing. Good-natured congressmen frank them for us, so it costs nothing except for stationery. This is generally highly ornamented with warlike and patriotic pictures in various colors, really very curious and interesting. One of our men, a former employee of the Post Office Department, is detailed as postmaster, and his duty is anything but a sinecure. Very free criticism of affairs military is one of our prerogatives, and the people at home get many weighty opinions on the conduct of the war; as for our ability to furnish any real information, truth obliges me to say we have to seek all our news at present from the New York papers. One of the pleasant incidents of this rather monotonous life, is the occasional detail of men to serve on board the “Anaconda,” a small war steamer that patrols the Potomac; the detail usually amounts to about a dozen men and extraordinary efforts are made to be one of the party. The boat frequently wakes up the rebel batteries about Acquia creek, and along the Virginia shore, but is principally occupied in preventing smuggling across the river. The boys come back enthusiastic over their adventures afloat, and anxious for another detail. To show what the naval people think of us, I copy the following letter addressed to our commanding officer.
United States Ship Anaconda, June 2d, 1861.
Sir:
I have great pleasure in informing you of the excellent character and conduct of the detachment of the Seventy-First Regiment, ,C°mPany C, serving on this vessel. They have my warmest thanks for their assistance in working our guns at Acquia creek; as gentlemen, soldiers, or boatmen, they do honor to their regiment. Signed,
N. Collins,
Lieutenant, Commanding.
One afternoon the President sent word that he desired to inspect and review the regiment. The next day he came, attended by several people of distinction, and passed through every company’s quarters in the yard; we were all drawn up within our own rooms, and the President passed in front of us, shaking hands with every man. Afterwards we fell in for parade, and passed in review in full marching order. He paid us several compliments, and we cheered him lustily as he rode away. Mr. Lincoln has a strange, weird, and melancholy face, which fascinates you at first sight; he seemed overwhelmed with responsibility, and looked very tired.
On the 20th of May Colonel Vosburg died of an hemorrhage, and was buried with distinguished honors. The President, Secretary Seward, half a dozen batteries, and several regiments of infantry assisting in making a very solemn and distinguished funeral. Lieutenant Colonel Martin succeeded to the command of the regiment. He is a fine, soldierly looking man, and said to be a good officer, but is apparently not much known.
Since our arrival, Washington has become an immense fortress; the streets are crowded with men in an endless variety of uniforms, and all the public buildings are more or less, turned into temporary barracks. The capitol itself is full of men, some of them terrible looking fellows, especially, the New York Fire Zouaves in their red breeches and singular dress. They are certainly a hard looking crowd, and are commanded by young Ellsworth, of fancy drill renown. They are in the rotunda, while several other regiments, are in the wings and basement. The city is being completely surrounded by a complicated and strong system of earth works, upon which heavy details from the regiments, are at work night and day; several immense forts are already fully constructed.
On the 23d of May, our regiment, in company with several others, were put on transports and sent to occupy Alexandria, until this time left in the hands of the enemy. The rebels abandoned the place at our approach, and we took possession without opposition; shortly after we landed, Colonel Ellsworth, commanding the Fire Zouaves, observing a rebel flag flying from the Marshall House, went into the hotel, ran upstairs, and hauled it down; as he was descending, with the flag in his hand, the landlord, one J. W. Jackson, met him on the stairs, armed with a shot gun, and shot him dead, Frances E. Brownell, a private in the Fire Zouaves, close at hand, instantly leveled his rifle, and shot the traitor dead, and so the young ambitious colonel was instantly revenged, and the rebel citizens taught a wholesome lesson.
This dramatic event caused great excitement, and the utmost sorrow, as great things were expected of Ellsworth. As soon as possible the colonel’s body, wrapped in an American flag, was transferred to the Navy Yard, where it lay in the engine house, and was viewed by thousands of people; so great was the interest in the young man and the tragical event, that the President himself drove down to the yard, soon after the body was deposited there, and seemed greatly affected. Two days afterwards he caused his remains to be transferred to the White House, where they lay in state and were viewed by immense throngs of people. His funeral, like that of Vosburg, was out of all proportion to his rank, but this is the very beginning of hostilities, and colonels seem to be of much importance.
About the 1st of July the troops were brigaded on the Virginia side of the river, and formed into an army, commanded by General McDowell. On the 15th of July we received orders to cross the Potomac the following day, carrying three days’ cooked rations; we marched out, about one o’clock from the yard, very cheerfully, and crossed the long bridge into Old Virginia, singing lustily, “Away Down South in Dixie,” and went into bivouac near Annandale, a distance of eight or nine miles. Here were gathered together an immense body of men, being organized into an army. Our regiment was brigaded under Colonel Burnside, with the First and Second Rhode Island regiments, and the Second New Hampshire. We had no tents or shelter of any kind, only one blanket to cover us, and what was worse than all, no old soldiers to teach us the simple tricks of campaigning comfortably. In the Navy Yard we slept on the bare boards, but that soon became easy for us; now with no boards, and no shelter when it rains, we shall be in a pretty pickle. I once wondered, I remember, what kind of beds we should have in the army; by degrees, I am finding that out, as well as some other things.
In the evening our enthusiasm burst out anew, when we saw the countless camp fires, extending in every direction as far as the eye could reach. Here around us was a veritable army, with banners, opening to our imagination, a glimpse of the glorious pomp, and circumstance of war. Later on, the music of the bands came floating over the gentle summer breeze, while the increasing darkness brought into more distinct relief the shadowy groups of soldiers sitting around the fires, or moving between the long lines of picturesquely stacked arms. At intervals were batteries of artillery, their horses tethered amongst the guns, while in rear of all, just discernible by the white canvas coverings, were wagons enough apparently, to supply the combined armies of the world.
At nine o’clock tattoo was sounded by thousands of drums and fifes, and shortly afterwards the men were mostly asleep. A young fellow named Kline (Dodd having remained in the yard on the sick list) and I slept together, and shared each other’s fortunes; we spread my rubber and woolen blankets on the ground, covering ourselves with his blankets, and without other protection from the weather slept our first sleep in the open air, with the new army of Virginia; we lay for a long time gazing at the starry heavens before we slept, our stony pillows not fitting as well as those we had been used to, but at last we slept, and only awoke at the beating of the drums for reveille.
We turned out promptly, feeling pretty stiff, hair saturated with the heavy dew and generally shaky, but after a good wash at a running brook near by, and a bountiful supply of muddy coffee, were as bright and active as ever. This morning we got many particulars of the approaching campaign; it seems we are to move forward to Centreville, where the rebel army is in position; attack, and if possibly, destroy it, and so end the rebellion. We formed column, and marched soon after breakfast, with bands playing, and colors flying, in a happy frame of mind, without a thought of danger or failure. Nothing barred our progress until we approached Fairfax Court House. Here we found the roads blockaded by felled trees, and it required considerable time to remove the obstructions; shortly afterwards our advance guard exchanged shots with the enemy’s mounted videttes, and a strong line of skirmishers was thrown out, which soon cleared the way and we entered the town in great spirits, the rebels retiring as we advanced, leaving behind them a good many stores, and their flag flying from a pole in front of the court house; it was a blue cross on a red ground, with white stars on the bars. Our men quickly hauled it down and ran up the Stars and Stripes amidst vociferous cheering. The place is a wretchedly dirty, straggling little village, now almost deserted; all the men, and most of the well to do women gone, the best houses generally being deserted. Many of the women stood in the doorways watching us march past, and I am sure, I never saw so many poor, ill fed, dirty looking creatures in my life before. They are what they call poor whites here, and seem hopelessly tired out; they acted ugly, evidently considering us enemies. I fear they had cause subsequently, as many of our men acted like barbarians. We halted, stacked arms, and rested in the main street of the village. As soon as ranks were broken, the men made a dash for the large houses, plundering them right and left; what they could not carry away, in many cases, they destroyed; pianos were demolished, pictures cut from their frames, wardrobes ransacked, and most of the furniture carried out into the street. Soon the men appeared wearing tall hats, women’s bonnets, dresses, etc., loaded down with plunder which they proceeded to examine and distribute, sitting on sofas, rocking chairs, etc., in the middle of the dusty street. What was not considered portable, or worth keeping, was smashed and destroyed; in this general sack the deserted houses came in for most attention, few of those having any one in charge being molested, and I did not hear of any personal indignities. It seemed strange to me the men desired mementoes of something we did not have to fight for, and I took no part or interest in the business. This was Fairfax’s first taste of war at the hands of the enemy, and it must have been decidedly bitter.
We went into bivouac just in front of the town, with headquarters in the village. It seemed as though we had men enough in the encampment to overrun the whole world. If it were not for the numerous trains of wagons needed to supply us, how quickly we could finish up this war. This second bivouac was in all respects similar to the first.
It is reported that General Beauregard, commanding the rebel army, has taken a position just beyond Centreville, and is awaiting our approach, intending to give battle; also that they are strongly intrenched behind breast works and rifle pits.
We are told too, that the woods are full of masked batteries, commanding the roads over which we must march, and it looks now as though we should have some severe fighting in a few hours’ time. It does not yet seem really like war, and it is hard to believe we shall actually have a battle, I suppose one good action will enable us to realize the requirements necessary to make a good soldier, and prove our usefulness, or otherwise, as nothing else will; I hope we may prove equal to the emergency.
Reveille the next morning sounded at daybreak, and soon afterwards we were enroute for Centreville, distant about eight miles; the day was very hot and there was much straggling, many of the men proving poor walkers; at intervals we halted to give time for the advance guard to properly reconnoiter, and also to rest the men, so that we did not arrive in front of our objective point till 1 P. M.; one trouble was the complete blockade of the road by wagons and artillery, obliging the infantry to take to the fields on either side of them, this causing much delay. I was in good condition, and did not mind the fatigue at all. Arriving at Centreville we found no enemy, but a little squalid, wretched place, situated on rising ground overlooking a good deal of the surrounding country. The column turned out to the right and left, forming a line of battle facing almost west, stacked arms, and lay down to await developments. Three regiments of infantry were shortly afterwards sent ahead to reconnoiter, and about a mile in front commenced exchanging shots at long range with the enemy’s pickets; as they advanced, they brought on quite a little fight, in which some of the rebel batteries joined for the first time. We saw the white puffs from the cannon, and watched with breathless interest this first evidence of actual hostilities. Presently an aide came back for reinforcements, and two other regiments were ordered to advance, but had hardly started, when General McDowell coming on the ground, ordered the advance to be discontinued for the present, and the troops withdrawn. We had four men killed outright, and several wounded in this first baptism of fire, which of course, produced great excitement, in the rear, especially when the ambulance with the wounded came in. We knew now there was more to be done than simply marching, and bivouacking, and began to feel a little curious, but still equal to the task, and sure of giving a good account of ourselves. We remained in position the rest of the day and night, watching during the evening the long lines of dust far away to the right and front, which is said to indicate the arrival of reinforcements for the enemy.
This morning we hear the rebel army is posted in a commanding position along the Bull Run stream, deep in many places, but having numerous fords. The rebel general, Johnson, has joined from Winchester, which explains the long dusty lines seen last evening. General McDowell, it is said, intends resting our army for a day or two here, in the mean time ascertaining the exact position of the rebels; we are not at all in need of rest, and I don’t see why we cannot go right ahead, but I suppose it is none of our business to speculate on the conduct of affairs. The wagons are now separately parked, so is the artillery, and the infantry placed so that the color line instantly becomes a line of battle in case of necessity. If the rebs would only come and attack us, how we should warm them.
JULY 17TH.—The news is not so good to-day. Gen. Garnet’s small command has been defeated by the superior numbers of Gen. McClellan. But the general himself was killed, fighting in the rear of his retreating men. His example will not be without its effect. Our generals will resolve never to survive a defeat. This will embolden the enemy to attack us at Manassas, where their suddenly acquired confidence will be snuffed out, or I am mistaken.
