by John Beauchamp Jones
MARCH 19TH—Snowing. It is estimated that we lost 250 men, killed, wounded, and taken, in the fight on the Rappahannock; the enemy’s loss is not known, but certainly was heavy, since they were defeated, and fled back, hotly pursued.
Confederate money still depreciates, in spite of the funding act. Some of the brokers are demanding ten dollars Confederate notes for one in gold! That is bad, and it may be worse.
The enemy are advancing from Corinth, and there are not sufficient troops to resist them. Gen. Johnston says if men are taken from Bragg, his army may be destroyed; and none can be ordered from Mobile, where there are only 2500 for land defense.
March 19.—The British steamer Georgianna, with a cargo of medicines, dry goods, and six pieces of field artillery of the Whitworth and Blakely patterns, was disabled and subsequently destroyed by the National blockading fleet off Charleston, S. C.—The Union gunboat Chenango was launched at Greenpoint, N. Y.—A party of soldiers sent to Rush County, Ind., to arrest deserters, succeeded in capturing six, but while on their way to the cars the deserters were rescued by a large party of mounted “Southern sympathizers,” who were armed with rifles. Two companies of infantry were then sent from Indianapolis, and the deserters were again taken into custody.—A skirmish occurred on Duck River, near Franklin, Tenn.—The schooner Fanny Lewis arrived at London, from Wilmington, N. C, having run the blockade with a cargo of cotton and turpentine.—London News.
Camp 103d Illinois Infantry, Lagrange, Tenn.,
March 19, 1863.
Nine whole days of the most beautiful sunshiny weather imaginable. Warm as our home June, almost. The boys bathe in the river that runs near our camp. The little birds warble in the trees, the beautiful young ladies walk out to enjoy the gentle spring breezes. Seldom now do we hear those gloomy omens of cold in the head, viz.: sneezes, and nature, grand old mother nature, almost in human tongue proclaims this balmy Southern spring atmosphere, a sure cure for the wheezes. Poetry, my dear, is the soul of—Sis, I’m getting under the influence of this weather, as happy as a clam, and as lazy as I can be, that is when I have nothing to do. I enjoy it intensely. Lieutenant Nick’s resignation has been accepted and he will be at home within a few days. I send this by him, probably. I came pretty near having a fight a few days since. I had 40 men out guarding a forage train of some 125 wagons. There was also about 50 cavalry. We stationed the cavalry as pickets while the teams were loading, and 50 guerrillas attacked and drove our cavalry in (only 20 of our boys). We got ready for a muss, but the other thirty of our horsemen charged secesh and scattered them, wounding several and capturing two. ‘Twas certainly censurable in our post commander’s sending so light a guard with so large a train, which was over a mile long. My men showed the right spirit. That is the nearest to a fight any of the 103d have yet been.
10 p.m.—I want you to be sure and get “Harpers Weekly” of March 14th, and read that army story about the officers captured by pretended guerrillas. It is all true and happened near Waterford, Miss., while we were there. I know the two women well. Don’t fail to get the paper or you’ll miss one of the best things of the war. I have just returned from a whist party. Colonel Wright, Dr. Morris and Dr. Shaw, of the 6th Iowa, and no liquor. I don’t drink any, and intend to continue my habits in that respect. Very few of our officers drink.
