Document <?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><?xml-model href="http://www.tei-c.org/release/xml/tei/custom/schema/relaxng/tei_all.rng" type="application/xml" schematypens="http://relaxng.org/ns/structure/1.0"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" href="https://raw.githubusercontent.com/BucknellDSC/jmlinn/refs/heads/main/linn.css"?><TEI xmlns="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#"> <teiHeader> <fileDesc> <titleStmt> <title>James Merrill Linn Diary: 1861-1862</title> <author>James Merrill Linn</author> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Diane K. Jakacki</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University </orgName> </name> <resp>Professor, Lead Investigator</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Junior Alejandro</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Matteo Antenucci</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>NinaArsov</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Caroline Colucci</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Drew Fisher</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Olivia Garcia</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Harvey Harvison</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Reilly Hope</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Matti Kruger</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Selena Liu</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Gayda Makki</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Ben Maya</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Calvin McGuire</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Natalie Monroe</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Luke Nowicki</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Ori Raz</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Grayson Renkert</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Amadou Samb</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Ben Samuels</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Rose Schmidt</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> <respStmt> <name> <persName>Nyah von Haam</persName> <orgName>Bucknell University</orgName> </name> <resp>Encoding editor</resp> </respStmt> </titleStmt> <publicationStmt> <authority>Bucknell University</authority> <address> <settlement>Lewisburg</settlement> <region>Pennsylvania</region> <country>USA</country> </address> <availability> <licence target="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/"> Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International </licence> </availability> </publicationStmt> <sourceDesc> <bibl> <sponsor>Bucknell University Special Collections and University Archives</sponsor> </bibl> </sourceDesc> </fileDesc> <xenoData><rdf:RDF xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" xmlns:rdfs="http://www.w3.org/2000/01/rdf-schema#" xmlns:as="http://www.w3.org/ns/activitystreams#" xmlns:cwrc="http://sparql.cwrc.ca/ontologies/cwrc#" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:dcterms="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" xmlns:foaf="http://xmlns.com/foaf/0.1/" xmlns:geo="http://www.geonames.org/ontology#" xmlns:oa="http://www.w3.org/ns/oa#" xmlns:schema="http://schema.org/" xmlns:xsd="http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#" xmlns:fabio="https://purl.org/spar/fabio#" xmlns:bf="http://www.openlinksw.com/schemas/bif#" xmlns:cito="https://sparontologies.github.io/cito/current/cito.html#" xmlns:org="http://www.w3.org/ns/org#"/></xenoData></teiHeader> <text> <body> <div> <pb facs="https://leaf.bucknell.edu/sites/default/files/2026-01/diary19.jpg"/> <head><date when="1862-01-09">Thursday January 9 1862. Steamship Cossack.</date></head> <p>I was wakened this morning about six o’clock by the cry of a “man overboard.” That cry is fearful enough at any time, but to be waked out of sleep, in the dark of the morning, and hear it — and the cries of the drowning man, and that gulping noise he makes as he is [be?] swept rapidly by the <objectName type="Equipment">stern</objectName> of the <objectName type="vehicle">ship</objectName>. However, I was not startled. I got up, however, and tried to look out the <objectName>window</objectName> of Shorkly’s berth. He was turned round and said there was no use in getting up; we must get used to these things.I went out to the back <objectName>window </objectName>and saw a number of little <objectName type="vehicle">boats</objectName> flying about. One husky voice — salty — I remember the first time I heard such a voice, the night we came down from <placeName>Perrysville to Annapolis</placeName> last spring, when we were hailed by the <persName>Cumberland</persName> and ordered to haul under his <objectName type="equipment">stern</objectName>. I have noticed it since in all sailors. This husky voice called out, “Keep the lad up! Keep the lad up!” Then again another, just as husky, cried out, “I’ve got him!” “Heave him up!” “Put your arm around me, lad!” Then I knew he was safe.In the army, when they speak to a man, they say “my man”; [on sea?] “my lad.”The three <objectName type="Equipment">rockets</objectName> went up about seven o’clock, then one <objectName type="Equipment">gun</objectName> fired, and the first brigade got under way. Then two <objectName type="Equipment">guns</objectName>, and our brigade started about a quarter past eight. We have two<objectName type="vehicle"> ships</objectName> in tow — 7 & 8 — 8 is the Scout with the balance of our regiment.<persName>Gen. Burnside</persName>, in a small <objectName type="vehicle">boat</objectName> with eight or ten oarsmen, went shooting about from ship to ship, cheered by all of us as he passed. He had a common cavalry <objectName type="clothing">hat </objectName>and [gum?]<objectName type="clothing"> coat</objectName>. The bands saluted as he passed; we waved our <objectName type="clothing">hats</objectName>; the men cheered. On each <objectName type="vehicle">ship</objectName>, as it started, the band commenced playing “Dixie.”I have spent most of the morning out looking at the fleet. How proudly they plough their way. Our <objectName type="Equipment">vessel</objectName> seems the staunchest and fastest sailor. I recognized <persName>Lt. Col. Potter</persName> on one of the ships (3), waved my hat to him; he turned to his men, did something in dumb show — but we heard a cheer burst from them, and we cheered in return.We passed the English [Imolite?] off the <origPlace key="Lighthouse">lighthouse.</origPlace> <placeName>England</placeName> is rousing a terrible feeling in our hearts. There will be a great war some of these days. I can’t keep it down in myself. The officers spoke of it with an ill-concealed glare, that it was an insult to have that lying there. The ill-concealed exultation of the British, and their mentioning with such satisfaction that there are so many French war <objectName type="Equipment">vessels</objectName> on our coast, is making up the [desired?] indignation in the breasts of those most opposed to war and least blood-thirsty in feeling.At five bells, at two o’clock afternoon, passed<placeName> Cove Point, Drum Point, and the mouth of the Patuxet River</placeName>.This evening, at the request of <persName>Bentley</persName>, reporter for the <placeName>Philadelphia Enquirer,</placeName> I wrote out a list of our company with their residences and took it up to his room. He introduced me to <persName>McDonald,</persName> the reporter for the Commercial Advertiser. <persName><orgName key="captain ">Captain</orgName> Bennet,</persName> captain of my boat, came in and told us to come out and see a beautiful sight. He took us to the stern of the <objectName type="Equipment">ship</objectName>, and see the wake of the <objectName type="Equipment">ship.</objectName> The moon was not very bright; the waters like dark green glass — a wake as broad as the ship, as straight as an arrow, extending as far back as the ships we had in tow, boiling and foaming white. It was indeed beautiful.We went back to the reporter’s room. Bennet gave us a succinct history of his life — 22 years at sea; master of a ship at 18 years of age; keeper of the <placeName>Minot Ledge Lighthouse</placeName>; saved by being accidentally away when it washed into the sea, where he lost all his <objectName type="Readable">charts</objectName> and <objectName type="readable">drawings</objectName>, having been three times around the world — which were peculiarly valuable to him. Joined his fate with <persName>Mayor Wood</persName> of <placeName>New York</placeName>; captain of the 5th Ward police; went into the Custom House; had his head cut off for his connection with Mayor Wood; and with difficulty, and owing to his personal acquaintance with <persName>Welles and Burnside</persName> and his position here, he was superintendent of the outfitting of this fleet at New York.He has a little boy, ten years old perhaps, that cried to go along.<persName> Burnside</persName> happened to be by. The boy said he would carry <objectName type="Equipment">cartridges</objectName> and do many other things. Burnside told him to take him along, and he would allow him [?].While we were standing on the hurricane deck this evening, the sky was mottled white, with long dark <name type="Cloudy ">streaks</name> along the western<name> sky.</name> Bentley came over the sailors’ rhyme:[“A mackered sky and mare’s tails make waves high, and covers the ship’s sails.”] </p></div> </body> </text> </TEI>