Camp near Yorktown, Va.,
Monday, April 14, 1862.
Dear Cousin L.:—
I scalded one of my feet yesterday and was not able to go with the company which went out this morning to work on a road. I was sitting by the fire with several others making coffee. Each of us has a small tin kettle holding three pints or so, fitted with a tight cover. We call them muckets for want of a better name. By the way, I believe almost any of us would throw away a blanket before he would his mucket, they are so indispensable. The cover of one was crowded down so tight that there was no room for the steam to escape. It swallowed the indignity with commendable patience for a time, but finally it lost all self-control and exploded, throwing hot coffee in all directions, but particularly in the direction of my left foot. It was not very badly scalded, and I hope will be well in a few days.
I believe with you that our idle days are about over, at least we have been tolerably busy since we arrived at Fortress Monroe. We landed the 24th of March. You have much better opportunities of learning what is done in the army than we, for we depend for news on the New York papers and they are two days old before we get them. All that I can write then is to tell what falls under my immediate observation.
You have undoubtedly learned that the main body of the Potomac army is in the vicinity of Yorktown; that the rebels are concentrating all the troops they can to oppose us, and that they seem determined to make a desperate stand here, to keep us back from Richmond. By the time we are ready to attack them they will probably have 100,000 men very strongly intrenched with which to meet us. We have a still larger force and are working night and day to get our guns in position and leave nothing undone that will lead to a sure and decisive victory. We have McClellan to lead us and the prestige of victory on our side, which is a great help. What the French call the Esprit de corps, is excellent. The army seems to feel that a well fought battle here will crush the rebellion and send them home all the more speedily. They hear of the victories in the west and the determination seems universal that the honor of crushing the rebellion shall not rest wholly with the army of the Mississippi. We shall go into the fight with “Remember Fort Donelson and Pittsburg” on our lips and in our hearts. The traitors have no such thoughts to inspire them with confidence. If they know any thing at all of what transpires, it will only fill them with forebodings of their own fate. They may fight, and undoubtedly will, but it will be like the desperate fighting of cornered rats. They must fight or give up everything. It will be the greatest battle ever fought in America. It will be worth a year’s soldiering to have been in it or to have fallen there under the Stars and Stripes.
It will be a year on the 26th since I enlisted. We have as yet seen but little fighting, though I think we shall see as much as any of the rest do here. Our division has been the advance so far. We frightened the rebels of Great Bethel and Union Mills, but I’m afraid Butterfield’s brigade would hardly prove strong enough to drive them out of Yorktown. We arrived here a week ago yesterday. You may wonder why we have done so little apparently in all this time. I think we have done as much as could be done under the circumstances. Last week it rained four days and nights. This materially interfered with our operations. It is twenty-four miles to Fortress Monroe, our nearest shipping station. The latter part of the road is through swamps that were almost impassable even for troops. The provisions for 150,000 men, in fact every thing had to come this way. It was found necessary to select some point nearer where provisions and artillery could be landed. Two or three wharves have been built, as near as I can learn somewhere near the mouth of the York river, and roads are being made as rapidly as possible to different parts of the camps. These forts cannot be taken with light artillery, and siege guns have to be brought and put in position. Our regiment and the Avengers have made nearly six miles of corduroy road beside doing picket duty every four days, reconnoitering, etc. I assure you the work is being pushed forward with all the speed that is possible.
It has been impossible to supply the army with full rations a considerable part of the time since we have been here, and we have had to live on short allowance. I have not heard a word of grumbling, however. Men who have marched over the road from here to Fortress Monroe know why provisions cannot be got through fast enough. Our boys didn’t come here to starve, however, because Uncle Samuel got out of hard tack. There were numbers of white rabbits in the vicinity when we arrived here. They are very large with short ears and their flesh tastes strangely like mutton. I have a faint recollection of using my bowie in the woods in preparing one for eating that took two of us to carry to camp. Large, ain’t they?
Our company spent a night last week down near the river. We went down to be ready to work on the road next day. We had no tents and it was pretty cold, so half a dozen of us started out about midnight to look round a little. We finally came out near a house and barn. I snatched a turkey off the fence and one of the others a rooster, and made back into the woods. We stopped to secure them when the others came up, saying they had found a pig, but did not dare to kill him for fear of his making a noise and waking up the wrong passenger. Bowen, who is not afraid of trifles, however, finally opened the door and went in. He knocked him, but the inconsiderate rascal squealed terribly. He seized him, however, and made off, the pig still squealing. Just as was expected, he woke up the rebels and we had just got into the woods when a ball came whistling over our heads. Nobody was hurt. I suppose the man shot at the squeal, for that was immediately stopped, and we heard no more guns. Just about daylight, before there was much stir, we came to the camp with the pig all dressed, turkey and rooster ditto. The colonel, who is always astir early, came riding down, and stopping suddenly, said, “Bowen, where did you get that pig?” Bowen, who stammers a little, was nonplussed. At last he blurted out. “Well, c-c-confound it, Colonel, I c-c-c-confiscated him.” “Haven’t you heard the orders about that?” “Well, Colonel, I haven’t had a mouthful to eat except five crackers since yesterday, and I can’t build corduroy on that.” I need not say that Bowen was forgiven, and Colonel said yesterday he wished I could get him another turkey. The pig was pretty well disposed of during the day, but how do you think we cooked our chicken? We had used up every grain of salt on the pig. Our supply is very limited and we have had to lose some meat on account of having no salt. I went down to the bay and got a mucket of sea water and we boiled a piece in that to try it. It relished so well that the chicken was boiled in sea water, and, if it was not as well cooked as some have been, I assure you there was no meat left on the bones. I hardly know what you will think of this work. You may call it stealing to go prowling round nights snatching poultry and pigs, but my conscience is seared. I don’t feel the least compunction. I am well satisfied that a man who has a farm and stock here where the rebels have had undisputed possession for months, is nothing else than a secesh, and when Uncle Sam can’t furnish food, I see nothing wrong in acquiring it of our enemies. That is the general sentiment of the soldiers, and, if you think it is wrong you need not feel any delicacy in telling me so.
I suppose L. is married, though I have not heard from home since the wedding. I am looking anxiously for a letter. Our mails were very much interrupted for a while after our coming here, but now they are pretty regular.
I don’t think you have anything to fear from the Merrimac. The Monitor is watching her as a cat does a mouse, and, if she should succeed in getting out, she would probably run up the York river to take part in the coming fight. She evidently fears the Monitor. We heard heavy firing near the fort yesterday and considerable excitement was caused in camp by the report that the Merrimac had taken the Monitor into Norfolk, but it was all a hoax. While I am writing this I hear the roar of cannon. Some of our gunboats are throwing shell from the river at the rebel batteries. Perhaps it is the commencement of the battle, and before this reaches you it may be fought and decided.
