23rd.–The whole atmosphere to-night vibrates with the sounds of preparation to advance. The new Secretary of War says “advance.” We are getting daily dispatches from. Gen. McClellan, asking, “Are you ready?” I have no faith. We have received too many dumb-watches, which “will run when they get older.”

22nd. Second Battalion moved, the distance nineteen miles, over the most lovely country I have yet seen–rolling and beautiful. Took care of Sergeant Dutton and our colonel during the night. First Battalion got to St. Charles. Lost my revolver.

Hunting a Channel.

Jan. 22. The light-draught boats are engaged in finding and making a channel across the bar, or swash as it is called, of sufficient depth of water to enable the large steamers to cross into the sound. One great trouble about that is if they find one today it will all be filled up tomorrow. We shall have to wait till calmer weather before we can cross.

Rations.

A schooner came alongside today and left us rations of steamed pork, hardtack and condensed sea water. This was a very timely arrival as we have been very short of water for two or three days and pretty much everything else. Rattlesnake pork will taste pretty good again after a few days’ fast. Condensed sea water is rather a disagreeable beverage, but still is a little ahead of no water at all. I think, however, it might be made palatable by adding about nine parts whiskey to one of water. This water and pork is all manufactured here on the spot. They have a sort of rendering establishment where they make it, but I cannot believe that the pork would take a premium in any fair in the country unless it was for meanness. [continue reading…]

Wednesday Jan’y 22d 1862

Nothing new today. Saw two of “Shorts & Smith” “Greek fire Bomb” burnt south of the Presidents House. It was (or appeared to be) quite a success. The Streets and crossings are worse than I have ever seen them before in this City. Called at Mr Hartleys for Julia on my return from the Prests, staid there an hour. On reaching home we found Ed Dickerson, who spent an hour or two here. He made my wife a present of a Bll of fine apples today, sent up by a cartman. They were very acceptable, and very fine quality “Baldwins.”

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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.

Wednesday, 22d–Orderly Clark, Sergeants Spencer, Sweet and White went out on a scouting expedition and brought in a pair of ponies and some things to eat.

JANUARY 22d.—Some of the letter-carriers’ passports from Mr. Benjamin, which have the countenance of Gen. Winder, are now going into Tennessee. What is this for? We shall see.

Georgeanna to Mother.

Steamer Spaulding.

The Spaulding is bunked in every hole and corner. The last hundred patients were put on board to relieve the over-crowded shore hospital late last night; stopped at the gang plank, each one, while Charley numbered all their little treasures and wrote the man’s name. Though these night scenes on the hospital ships are part of our daily living, a fresh eye would find them dramatic. We are awaked in the dead of night by a sharp steam whistle, and soon after feel ourselves clawed by the little tugs on either side of our big ship, and at once the process of taking on hundreds of men, many of them crazy with fever, begins. There’s the bringing of the stretchers up the side ladder between the two boats, the stopping at the head of it, where the names and home addresses of all who can speak are written down, and their knapsacks and little treasures numbered and stacked. Then the placing of the stretchers on the deck, the row of anxious faces above and below decks, the lantern held over the hold, the word given to “lower,” the slow-moving ropes and pulleys, the arrival at the bottom, the lifting out of the sick man, and the lifting into his bed; and then the sudden change from cold, hunger, and friendlessness to comfort and satisfaction, winding up with his invariable verdict, if he can speak, “This is just like home.”

(The Spaulding being all ready was now started northward, and the “staff” moved back to the Small once more, from which they were busy day and night receiving the sick and wounded, fitting up hospital ships, and starting them to northern ports.)

January, ‘62.

To-day we are going out to look up some nurses for Will Winthrop’s regiment, and then to the Senate. I forgot to tell you a pretty story we heard the other day from Mrs. Gibbons, our Quaker lady friend. She is a very sweet, kind old lady, and she and her daughter have been out at Fall’s Church getting the hospital there into working order, and showing them how to nurse and cook for the sick, and, thanks to them, one poor fellow who was dying was nursed back into the right road and is now nearly well enough to go home with his father, who, meantime, had been sent for. He, a plain well-to-do farmer from Western New York, was so overcome with gratitude to Mrs. G. and her daughter, that he entreated the young girl to go home with him and be his daughter! “He would do all in the world for her and she should be an equal sharer with his son in the farm of 300 acres,” and it was said (Mrs. Gibbons told us) in the most delicate, genuine way, without any allusion to the young Lieutenant and probably without the least idea of “making a match.” Of course the young girl declined, and then he went to the mother to ask if she hadn’t other daughters like herself for whom he could do something to show his gratitude. Isn’t it like some old ballad? . . .

The management of the jail was before the Senate yesterday and we heard the discussion, and left just before the bill was passed, requiring the release of all persons not committed for crime, which means, principally, the contrabands. Mr. Grimes, the chairman of the Committee on District affairs, abused Marshal Lamon roundly for his bad management and his insolent exclusion of congressmen from one of the institutions which it is their duty to supervise. Georgeanna sent Senator Dixon a note asking if, while the subject is before Congress, something can’t be done about separating children committed for petty crimes, from hardened criminals. . . . There ought to be a reformatory school attached to every jail.

21st. First Battalion moved on horseback for St. Charles at nine A. M. Wrote to Uncle Albert.

Tuesday Jan’y 21st 1862

Weather continues soft and unpleasant, a light rain nearly all day. Battle in Kentucky and death of Zollicoffer confirmed. “Sesesh” must now take a succession of hard Knocks. Our troops are now disciplined and more in Earnest. In the office a[s] usual. Went down to the National this evening, spent an hour or two in Mr Shorts room. Saw his partner in the “fire Bomb,” Lyman B Smith, Mr Jewett the Engraver of Buffalo, Maj Chapin from over the River, the “Ellsworth” Regt. I came home about 10 o’clock. The Maj thinks there is to be an advance soon. People are waiting for it with a great deal of impatience. Our armies are in good condition and eager for a “fight” everywhere.

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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.

Tuesday, 21st–Nothing of importance. Everything is very quiet in this locality. We have nothing but the regular camp duty to perform. Mess number 7 have now used up all their cooked rice.

Jan. 21. The weather still continues in an unsettled state. Although not so rough as it was, it is still too rough to attempt to do much. All the vessels of our fleet are now here, except those that were lost and the schooner with the signal corps. Nothing has been heard from her, and we are beginning to think that she too may be lost. Albert Tucker of company B died this morning, and his body was taken ashore and buried on the beach this afternoon. It is a sad sight to see men die and be buried here on this low, lonely sand-bar.

He lies on the beach, the cold waters beside.

And lonely and sad was the death that he died.

No mother mourns o’er him, no fond fair one weeps

Where far from the land of his fathers he sleeps.

But the mad swelling waves and the wild birds career

O’er the wet sandy grave of the young volunteer.

JANUARY 21st.—A great number of Germans and others are going to Norfolk, thinking, as one remarked, if they can’t go to the United States the United States will soon come to them. Many believe that Burnside will get Norfolk. I think differently, but I may be mistaken.

20th. Moved into tents. Found missing equipment. Severe cold and rash.

Monday January 20th 1862

Another wet mudy day. The Govt Teams are in constant motion and the streets are a complete bed of mortar three or four inches deep over the roadway and two or three inches over the crossings. News rcd today of a Victory of my old friend Schoepf over Zollicoffer in Kentucky. Will get more news in reference to it tomorrow (probably) if true. The citizens are much alarmed now on account of the prevalence of the Small pox in the City. It is in fact all over the City. Betwen my house and the patent office, down 9th street which I travel every day, there are five cases. The Small Pox Ambulance with the Yellow flage carrying Soldier patients is seen every day in the streets. It is generaly given a wide berth. Called with wife this evening at Mr Pecks and Mr Bartletts. Wife got a letter today from Mrs Brownson which was quite gratifying with its photograph of Willie Brownson as Midshipman at the Naval School at Newport R.I.

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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.

Monday, 20th–It snowed some today and turned colder; the weather is very changeable. I wrote a letter to father and enclosed $20.00 of the $26.00 I received from the Government on the 8th inst.

Westwood, Hanover County, January 20,1862.—I pass over the sad leave-taking of our kind friends in Clarke and Winchester. It was very sad, because we knew not when and under what circumstances we might meet again. We left Winchester, in the stage, for Strasburg at ten o’clock at night, on the 24th of December. The weather was bitter cold, and we congratulated ourselves that the stage was not crowded. Mr. _____ and the girls were on the back seat, a Methodist clergyman, a soldier, and myself on the middle, and two soldiers and our maid Betsey on the front seat. We went off by starlight, with every prospect of a pleasant drive of eighteen miles. As we were leaving the suburbs of the town, the driver drew up before a small house, from which issued two women with a baby, two baskets, several bundles, and a box. The passengers began to shout out, “Go on, driver; what do you mean? there’s no room for another; go on.” The driver made no answer, but the women came to the stage-door, and began to put in their bundles; the gentlemen protested that they could not get in—there was no room. The woman with the baby said she would get in; she was “agwine to Strasburg to spend Christmas with her relations, whar she was born and raised, and whar she had not been for ten year, and nobody had a better right to the stage than she had, and she was agwine, and Kitty Grim was agwine too—she’s my sister-law; and so is baby, ’cause baby never did see her relations in Strasburg in her life. So, Uncle Ben!” she exclaimed to the driver, “take my bag, basket, and box by you, and me and Kitty and baby, and the bundles and the little basket, will go inside.” All this was said amidst violent protestations from the men within: “You can’t get in; driver, go on.” But suiting the action to the word, she opened the door, calling, “Come, Kitty,” got on the step, and thrust her head in, saying: “If these gentlemen is gentlemen, and has got any politeness, they will git out and set with Uncle Ben, and let ladies come inside.” A pause ensued. At last a subdued tone from the soldier on the middle seat was heard to say: “Madam, if you will get off the step, I will get out.” “Very well, sir; and why didn’t you do that at first? And now,” said she, looking at a man on the front seat, “there’s another seat by Uncle Ben; sposen you git out and let Kitty Grim have your seat; she’s bound to go.” The poor man quietly got out, without saying a word, but the very expression of his back, as he got out of the stage, was subdued. “Now, Kitty, git in, and bring the little basket and them two bundles; they won’t pester the lady much.” The door was closed, and then, the scene being over, the passengers shouted with laughter.

Our heroine remained perfectly passive until [continue reading…]

JANUARY 20th.—Mr. Memminger advertises to pay interest on certain government bonds in specie. That won’t last long. He is paying 50 per cent. premium in treasury notes for the specie, and the bonds are given for treasury notes. What sort of financiering is this?

19th. Moved over the river in afternoon, found our barracks (Benton) occupied and unfit. Camped out in the fair grounds. Men occupied the amphitheatre.

Hatteras Island and Inlet.

Jan. 19. Witnessing boat collisions and wrecks is getting old, and the boys are amusing themselves by writing letters, making up their diaries, playing cards, reading old magazines and newspapers which they have read half a dozen times before; and some of them are actually reading their Bibles. Of all the lonely, God-forsaken looking places I ever saw this Hatteras island takes the premium. It is simply a sand-bar rising a little above the water, and the shoals extend nearly 100 miles out to sea. The water is never still and fair weather is never known; storms and sea gulls are the only productions. Sometimes there is a break in the clouds, when the sun can get a shine through for a few moments, but this very rarely happens. The island extends from Cape Henry, Virginia, to Cape Lookout, North Carolina, with occasional holes washed through it, which are called inlets. It is from one-half to two miles wide, and the only things which make any attempt to grow, are a few shrub pines and fishermen. I don’t think there is a bird or any kind of animal, unless it is a dog, on the island, not even a grasshopper, as one would have to prospect the whole island to find a blade of grass, and in the event of his finding one would sing himself to death. The inlet is very narrow, not over half a mile in width, and the channel is still narrower, consequently it makes an indifferent harbor. Still it is better than none, or as the sailors say, any port in a storm. But as bad as it looks and bad as it is, it is, after all, a very important point, perhaps as important in a military point of view as any on the coast. It is the key or gate-way to nearly all of eastern North Carolina, and places us directly in the rear of Norfolk, Va. This island is not without its history, if we may believe all the fearful and marvelous stories that have been written of it, of its being the habitation of wreckers and buccaneers in ye good old colony times. [continue reading…]

Sunday, 19th–Lieutenant Durbin and some of the boys went out scouting. They brought in a lot of corn to feed the horses; also some walnuts, hickory nuts, corn meal and molasses. The lieutenant took a “secesh” flag from a schoolma’am.

Sunday January 19th 1862

A rainy day, but Julia & I went out to ch in the afternoon. Dr Dwight, Missionary from Constantinople, officiated, rather a thin “House.” Mr Short did not come up on account of the rain I presume. It is very foggy this evening. Mrs Fenwick (Wido[w]) has been here all the evening. I have just been home with her to I St. She is a very pious Baptist but somewhat excentric as her Sunday evening visit might prove, but she is and [sic] old acquaintance. The City has been very quiet today, but the Drums are beating this evening. Last year at this time we were expecting an attack upon the City and the public mind was much agitated. The hideous form of Treason was just showing its head. None then imagined that the Civil War then threatened could possibly attain anything like its present proportions.

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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.

JANUARY 19th.—There has been a storm on the coast, sinking some of the enemy’s ships. Col. Allen, of New Jersey, was lost. He was once at my house in Burlington, and professed to be friendly to the Southern cause. I think he said he owned land and slaves in Texas.

U. S. Flag-Ship Hartford,
Philadelphia, Jan. 19, 1862.

This morning, at 10 o’clock, the U. S. screw sloop Hartford was put in commission as the flag-ship of the Western Gulf Blockading Squadron. The following is a list of officers ordered to join her:

Flag Officer–David G. Farragut.
Fleet Captain–Henry H. Bell.
Commander–Richard Wainwright.
Lieutenant and Executive Officer–Jas. S. Thornton.
Lieutenant and Ordnance Officer–Albert Kautz.
Surgeon–W. Maxwell Wood.
Assistant Surgeon–Joseph Hugg.
Paymaster–George Plunkett.
Master–John C. Watson.
Acting Masters–D. S. Murphy, C. Desames, Jos. G. Lewis .
Marine Officers-1st Lieut., John L. Broome; 2d Lieut., Geo. Heisler.
Flag Officer’s Secretary–Thomas Walden.
Flag Officer’s Clerk–B. S. Osbon.
Acting Midshipmen–H. B. Tyson, E. C. Hazeltine, Jno.
H. Reed, H. J. Blake.
Engineers–Chief, J. B. Kimball; 2d Assistant, Jno. Purdy,
E. B. Latch, F. A. Wilson; 3d Assistant, C. M. Burchard,
Isaac Degraff, A. K. Fulton, C. J. COOPER.
Boatswain–James Walker.
Gunner–Jas. Duncan.
Acting Carpenter–J. H. Conley .
Acting Sailmaker–Jno. A. Holbrook.
Clerks–Captain’s, A. D. Bache; Fleet Captain’s, T. B. Waddell; Paymaster’s, F. C. Plunkett.
Master’s Mates–E. J. Allen, Thos. Mason, Lewis S. Locke.

The first business of the crew was to put the ship in sailing order, which, with taking on board provisions and the like, occupied several days. We dropped down to Newcastle, Del. and remained a couple of days, and then went back to Fort Mifflin and took in powder, which is said to be the last article taken on board before sailing, and the first article discharged on returning from a cruise. We then dropped down to Newcastle again, and after receiving on board the Flag Officer and the Fleet Captain, Henry H. Bell, with a salute, proceeded to sea.