Rienzi, Tuesday, Sept. 9. Another day dawned without any orders. Some of the boys pitched their tents. I went out foraging in the afternoon.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
September 9 — Last night we slept in a straw stack. To-day we moved about half a mile from where we straw-stacked it last night. At about three o’clock this afternoon the cavalry reported that the Yanks were advancing, so we put our guns in position in the road and were ready to give our United States welcomers an explosive reception. If the Yanks advanced to-day they did it in some other direction, as they did not make their appearance on the road we are on.
Clinton, September 9th, Tuesday.
Back again! For how long, I know not. At sunset Saturday, Eliza and Miriam returned to Mrs. McCay’s with Nannie Davidson. Mother had proved obdurate and refused to leave Clinton; so they had all gone on, and spent the day with Mrs. Haynes instead of going to Mrs. George’s. After my quiet, solitary day, I was glad to see them again, particularly as they brought confirmation of the great victory in Virginia. It is said the enemy were cut off from Washington, and that we were pursuing them. O my brothers! If God will only spare them! I envy Lydia who is so near them, and knows all, and can take care of them if they are hurt. It will be several days at least, before we can hear from them, if we hear at all; for Jimmy has never yet written a line, and George has written but once since the taking of the forts, and that was before the battle of Chickahominy. We can only wait patiently. Perhaps General Carter will bring us news.
Mrs. Haynes sent a very pressing invitation for us to spend the next day with her, so, although it was Sunday, we went. I am becoming dreadfully irreligious. I have not been to church since Mr. Gierlow went to Europe last July. It is perfectly shocking; but the Yankees have kept me running until all pious dispositions have been shaken out of me; so they are to blame. Like heathens, we called on Miss Comstock as we passed through town, and spent an hour with her. Landed at Mr. Haynes’s, we had ample time to look around before he and his wife got back from church. Here again I found what seems to be the prevailing style of the country, widespread doors and windows, with neither blinds nor shade trees to keep off the glare of the sun. The dining-room was a wide hall, where the rising sun shone in your face at breakfast, and at dinner, being directly overhead, seemed to shine in at both ends at once. A splendid arrangement for a Fire Worshiper; but I happened to be born in America, instead of Persia, so fail to appreciate it.
Tuesday, 9th—Nothing of importance. We are still working on the fortifications; those at work are relieved from picket duty at night. The rebels are not as bold as they were a few days ago. The talk in camp is that our brigade will leave in two or three days for Corinth.
September 9. Tuesday. — Marched about eight miles in a westerly direction through a fine-looking, well-improved region. Men very jolly. All came in together, “well closed up,” at night. Major Comly sent with five companies to Seneca Bridge, three-fourths mile west of camp, to “hold it.” Kelly, Company A, a witty Dutch-Irishman, kept up a fusillade of odd jokes in English German. The men cheered the ladies, — joked with the cuffys, and carried on generally.
9th.—At midnight last night, we had but just got to rest, when we were called up to unload our wagons, taking out only such baggage as would be absolutely necessary on a forced march. The rest was sent back by teams. This lessening of transportation of leaving of packs, looks as if our leaders expected work to-day or to-morrow. I think we shall not have it so soon; but our leaders are at least on the alert. May this energetic stir be continued to a decisive result! Many think that we shall have no fight here at all, that the rebels have crossed in considerable numbers, with the view of drawing us away, but that their chief army is at Alexandria, ready to attack it so soon as we are enticed far enough away.
Six weeks ago we held almost the whole of Eastern Virginia; now, not a spot of it securely, unless it be a little piece around Alexandria. But with a continuance of the energy manifested for the last few days, we can soon retake it.
At present, the darkest shade cast upon the country is by our currency. These five cent shin-plasters I do not like, and I like less the false pretence under which they are issued. Why call them “postal currency?” What have they to do with “postal” affairs? ‘Tis time the government had quit cheating the people by disguising facts. If five cent issues are necessary, say so frankly, and make them, but let us have no more of this miserable deceit, with the more miserable looking rags.
We marched this morning through Darnestown, and there turning from the main road to the left, proceeded towards a ford in the Potomac, expecting to meet the enemy there and dispute his passage. Finding no enemy, we bivouaced for the night on Seneca Creek, a beautiful stream, at this point about two miles from the river, Crouch’s division lay in front of us. Much diarrhaea amongst the troops. In consequence of a scorbutic tendency in the whole army, the free indulgence in the green fruits found by the way side seems rather to alleviate than to increase the diarrhæa.
Tuesday, 9th. In the afternoon wrote to Ella Clark. Spent the day much as other days, reading, writing and loafing about hearing the news and waiting for the news. Report that Jackson had been captured. Evening papers contradicted the rumor and gave the Rebels the decided advantage. Driving our men towards Washington. Stirring news from Cincinnati. Battle at Lexington. Raw troops whipped out.
Norwich, Conn.
September 9th, 1862.
My own dear Son:
I am half sick, very sad, grieved, and troubled on your account, yet very thankful for the wonderful preservation of your life through so many dangers. I cannot but feel that a life so cared for has been saved for the accomplishment of good and wise purposes, which will be wrought out in God’s own time. Take courage, and strengthen your heart, my own precious son, in the remembrance of what He has done for you, through the whole course of your life, and especially for his goodness amid the dangers of the past year. Well may we all lament the loss of your General. I feel, and mourn as for a personal friend, and the nation too late acknowledges the want of appreciation of one of its greatest men and ablest military commanders. Gen. Kearny’s staff, I noticed, returned with his body, and so we have hoped that, sad as the journey might be, you would be permitted to accompany your General’s remains to their last home.
I have just received two letters from you, one of the 4th, the other of the 6th. May God be with you, my dear son, to comfort and guide. A dark cloud seems to have gathered around you; may it soon pass and the brightness shine again. The Herald and Times have contained little regarding Gen. Stevens, but the Tribune correspondent sounds his praises, and dwells upon his memory. There was a statement in yesterday’s Tribune, that while he was engaged in his last battle, prominent men, though political opponents, had decided to request that he might command the Army of Virginia, his splendid fighting on Friday and Saturday having at last awakened the remembrance of his superior abilities, and his distinction at West Point, as well as in Mexico, and whereever he had opportunities to show himself. The Express says he was sacrificed to political opinion.
Do write as often as possible, my son. My nerves are greatly shaken, although my health is far better in most respects than it used to be, yet I feel sensibly this strain upon my spirits. I cannot write as long a letter as I wish to-day, but I intend in future to write a little every day, to always have something ready for you.
The Lt.-Col. of the Eighteenth is not all that could be desired, and Ely, I am told, regrets that you are not with him. Political interests are paramount everywhere. Alfred Goddard called on us last night. He said he had followed your course, and everywhere heard your noble conduct spoken of. I will write again to-morrow. I am very sorry you have lost your back letters which have gone from my pen, as well as one from Lillie. All are well at home. Poor Matteson, how you must lament for him! Major Elliott, see, is wounded.
God bless you, my own dear son. In Him is our only trust. Would that we could meet if only for one short hour.
Your sisters send love and warmest sympathy. We all feel for you, and I pray earnestly to God for His help and blessings.
Lovingly and anxiously,
Mother.
Hunt’s suggestions are dictated by his kind heart, but I think you deserve and must receive a higher appointment than that of Aide.
Tuesday, 9th.—Passed through Walton at 9 A. M. Still cheered on at almost every step. Camped for the night thirteen miles from Covington.
September 9—Up to to-day nothing new. Our regiment was paid off to-day, we receiving one month’s wages—eleven dollars for a private, which I have the honor to be.
