WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 1861.

A rainy morning. Went to the office as usual and was very busy writing all day. Got with my stationary today a new Pocket knife and a gold pen with which I am writing now but I do not think much of the Pen. No further news from Pensecola. It is “Thanksgiving” tomorrow and the Office is closed for the day. Turkeys are very scarce this year and we shall have rather slim “Thanksgiving” without one. I have spent the evening at home.

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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.

NOVEMBER 27th.—Saw President Tyler to-day. He augurs the worst effects from the policy of permitting almost unrestricted intercourse with the enemy’s country in time of war.

Tuesday, 26th–Our drills now are, company drill at 10 a. m., battalion drill at 2 p. m. and dress parade at 5 p. m. We commenced battalion drill today.

26th. Made arrangements to go home but couldn’t.

TUESDAY 26

In the office all day, weather rather cold and unpleasant. Wife and the two elder boys went to the Review of the Regulars, a little East of the Capitol, by Genl McClellan. News today comes through Norfolk of a Battle at Pensecola. Nothing definite known. I went down and spent an hour with Chas & Sallie. Came home and then went after Julia at Mr Hartleys.

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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.

NOVEMBER 26th.—The enemy occupy Tybee Island, and threaten Savannah. Vice-President Stephens was in my office to-day, and he too deprecates the passage of so many people to the North, who, from the admission of the journals there, give them information of the condition of our defenses. He thinks our affairs are not now in a prosperous condition, and has serious apprehensions for the fate of Savannah.

Nov. 26, 1861.—The lingering summer is passing into those misty autumn days I love so well, when there is gold and fire above and around us. But the glory of the natural and the gloom of the moral world agree not well together. This morning Mrs. F. came to my room in dire distress. “You see,” she said, “cold weather is coming on fast, and our poor fellows are lying out at night with nothing to cover them. There is a wail for blankets, but there is not a blanket in town. I have gathered up all the spare bed-clothing, and now want every available rug or table-cover in the house. Can’t I have yours, G.? We must make these small sacrifices of comfort and elegance, you know, to secure independence and freedom.”

“Very well,” I said, denuding the table. “This may do for a drummer boy.”

Note: To protect Mrs. Miller’s job as a teacher in post-civil war New Orleans, her diary was published anonymously, edited by G. W. Cable, names were changed and initials were generally used instead of full names—and even the initials differed from the real person’s initials. (Read Dora Richards Miller’s biographical sketch.)

25th. Was kept very busy all day with wood.

Monday, 25th–Nothing of importance. Camp life is a big change from life at home. In the army, every man simply obeys orders; he knows his place and keeps it. Our officers generally are kind to the men, especially if a man tries to do his duty.

MONDAY 25

Coldest morning yet. M. down to 32. Went to the Pat office and got my appointment from the Comr after going to a Magistrate and taking the oath, in such cases prescribed by law. Have been engaged in filling out certificates of Lands to purchasers. Nothing new in the military line today or in the “papers” tonight. Doct Barnes was over from the Camp today with his wife. She returns with him being quite enamoured of Camp life. Regts have been moveing all day and Drums beating all the evening.

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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.

NOVEMBER 25th.—Yesterday Fort Pickens opened fire on our batteries at Pensacola, but without effect. One of their ships was badly crippled.

November 25.

We have been evacuating the British with great zest to-day; good weather, clean streets, and many praises for the 22nd, Charley’s regiment, among other battalions–praises, that is, with the exception of some vile youths of the street, near Stuart’s, who shouted “hurrah for the never go ‘ways!” . . . We had a very interesting meeting of the Bible Society last night, second meeting of the army branch, many excellent speeches; Dr. Roswell Hitchcock, of course, who apropos of the slavery question, said, “Patience; we need not be hurrying matters–that cause, like the soul of old John Brown, is ‘marching on,’ and the chorus is ‘Glory, Hallelujah!’” The allusion was charged with electricity, and the audience responded appropriately. A gentleman, I forget his name, had been to visit the Hatteras rebel prisoners and described the scene; a sad, sorry six hundred as you could well find. He made them an address on repentance (of the gospel sort), and begged them to sing, to “start something”– “Pray, sing my brothers; it will do your hearts good.” So some one began “All hail the power of Jesus’ name.” Then followed “Jesus, lover of my soul,” and last “There is rest for the weary.” He said they sang well, and it was a strange and even touching sight. He said they were comfortably cared for, and he saw a lot of underclothes sent them in a wrapper marked, “from a father and mother whose son (a Union soldier) is in prison in Richmond.” . . .

How are you going to spend your Thanksgiving, and what are you going specially to give thanks for? The question will rather be what to leave out, than what to put in the action de grace. Did you read Governor Andrews’ proclamation? if you didn’t, do! It is like a blast out of one of the old trumpets that blew about the walls of the strong city till they tumbled down. Have you read the Confederate President’s message, in which he has contrived to out-Herod Herod? . . .

Tell the girls to get F. L. Olmsted’s “Cotton Kingdom” if they want anything to read. He labors a little with his conscientiously faithful statistics, but when he breaks into his story his style runs smooth and clear, and there are few prettier pieces of travel-telling than his ride through the pine forests with the filly “Jane,” for instance.

November 25th.–I remarked the other evening that, with all the disorder in Washington, there are no thieves. Next night, as we were sitting in our little symposium, a thirsty soldier knocked at the door for a glass of water. He was brought in and civilly treated. Under the date of the 27th, accordingly, I find it duly entered that “the vagabond who came in for water must have had a confederate, who got into the hall whilst we were attending to his comrade, for yesterday there was a great lamentation over cloaks and great-coats missing from the hall, and as the day wore on the area of plunder was extended. Carl discovers he has been robbed of his best clothes, and Caroline has lost her watch and many petticoats.”

24th. Sunday. Stayed in camp. D. R. H. and C. G. F. went up town. Read some and wrote home.

Bird’s Point, Mo., November 24, 1861.
Sabbath morning, 10 o’clock.

I’m in clover. I’ve got a great big “comfort,” weighs a ton, that has been sent to my partner and myself from a young lady in Bloomington. We’ve tramped so much since I received that pair of blankets from you, and we never know when we start whether we’re coming back here again or no, that being unable to carry them I sold them. We have had considerable cold weather. Lots of frost, and for the last two days it has been freezing all the time. We have always slept perfectly warm and getting used to it by degrees.

I never hear anyone complain. Yesterday we made a furnace in our tent that works admirably and now I wouldn’t give a snap for any other winter quarters. This furnace is a grand thing. It keeps our tent dry and healthy and is as comfortable to me now as ever our house was. Don’t trouble yourself in the least about our underclothing. We all have more than we want and can get any quantity at any time. Other clothing the same. We commenced building log houses for winter quarters this morning. Theo Thornton and Clem Wallace of our mess are up the river now cutting logs for them. We never drill Sundays, but for anything else we have no Sunday. We have no chaplain in our regiment. Our captain is religious but he is out now doing as much work as any of the men. We can enjoy ourselves very well here this winter, but of course we are very much disappointed in not getting into active service. I think that when our gunboats get here we will at least be allowed a trial on Columbus, but you know, and I know, that I don’t know anything about it. We have had two awful rains within a week as the ponds covered with ice on our parade ground will testify. The first one caught six of our boys fifteen miles up the river cutting logs for our huts. It wet them beautifully. In camp for some reason they had doubled the pickets, strengthened the camp guard and ordered us to sleep on our arms. I think they were troubled with the old scare again. About 10:30 while the storm was at its height heavy firing commenced all at once right in the middle of the camp. What a time there was. Colonel Oglesby got his signals ready, regiments formed in the rain and the devil was to pay generally. It turned out that it was a green Iowa regiment that had just returned from another unsuccessful chase after Jeff. ‘Twas an awful trick and only the greenest troops would have done it.

Sunday, 24th–We had our first regular company inspection this morning at to o’clock, and at 2 p.m. we had general review, then at 5 o’clock we were on dress parade, but as it is Sunday there was no regular drilling.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 1861.

This has been rather a cool Sunday with the first Snow of the season this evening. We have seen no ice yet, and no very hard frost. Wife and all the Children were out to church this morning. Myself and Julia went this afternoon. Chas & Sallie called and spent an hour or two this evening. The boys went to bed at 8 o’clock. Wife is writing to her Aunt Reeves. We occupy the Parlor evenings with airtight Stove.

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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.

NOVEMBER 24th.—Gen. Floyd has retreated from Cotton Hill, and the enemy threatens our western communications. Gen. Lee has been sent to Western Virginia, but it is not an adequate field for him. He should have command of the largest army in the service, for his is one of the most capacious minds we have.

23rd. Brownell and Brooks left on furlough, so I had double duties.

Saturday, 23d–We cleaned up today, preparing for our first inspection and review at Benton Barracks. I sent $10.00 home today, the surplus of my State pay.

SATURDAY 23

Rained last night and was a rainy morning, but it cleared off about noon. I went to the Land office today and was examined as the law directs for all clerks, but it is very much of a “humbug.” If it is wanted to keep an applicant out, it is a very easy matter to do it. I go again on Monday to learn the nature of the report in my case. Perhaps I am to be humbuged as a Democrat does not, in reality, stand much chance for a place in that Department. “We shall see.”

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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.

NOVEMBER 23d.—J. C. Breckinridge and Humphrey Marshall, of Kentucky, have been here; and both have been made brigadier-generals, and assigned to duty in the West. Although the former retained his seat in the Senate of the United States for many months after the war began, no one doubts that he is now with us, and will do good service.

Scene at Beaufort, S.C.—Negro Hucksters Disposing of their
Produce to the Soldiers.—From a Sketch by W.T. Crane

From Frank Leslie’s American Soldier in the Civil War, page 430, 1895

The pleasures of honest ownership were as sweet to the soldiers, even in the land of plenty, as to the most exemplary Christian citizen. Then there came also the feeling of independence when the mess chest, so long dependent upon Uncle Sam’s liberality and thoughtfulness could be reinforced by fresh and unaccustomed viands.  Hence, it is not strange that negro hucksters carried on a thriving trade in camp.  The troops would purchase anything from cabbages to live stock. No doubt the man-o’-warsman driving off the young porker might have secured the same ration clandestinely, for whenever the negroes could get at the stores of produce the troops could also, if on foraging bent, but he probably made a very clever bargain, to his mind, and found immense satisfaction in exhibiting his prize on the road back to the rendezvous without being compelled to sneak along the by-ways and dodge the argus-eyed provost guard. The negroes likewise amused their new customers with their strange and grotesque dress, their rollicking humor  and ready tongues. Generally speaking, the blacks may be classed as the Yankees of the South. Well  aware of the mission of the Northern fighters on behalf of their race they relieved them of their greenbacks as eagerly and as mercilessly as though the process that of taking spoil of the Egyptians.

Print from wood engraving, probably originally black and white.