April 27th. All still on the river; very stormy weather.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
27th. Up at 4 and an early breakfast in anticipation of marching. Infantry came in a little before noon. Saw Wattle. Got dinner and then started. Bob, Col. A. and I went. Covil and Dod stayed. Marched by way of “Fishing Creek.” Very high banks. Country quite mountainous. Fun to see the infantry fording. Encamped at 16 miles. Got a ham and had tea and crackers. Rained in the night.
Monday, 27th—Remained in Camp all morning; then started as John Rector had come in to see Cousin Jim Hawkins; found he had moved camp. I went up to Mr. Johnston’s and took dinner; saw Mr. Denton of Mike Salter’s Company there. Sent note up to Jimmy by one going up.
27th April (Monday).—Colonel Bankhead has given me letters of introduction to General Bragg, to General Leonidas Polk, and several others.
At 2 P.M. I called on Mrs Bankhead to say good-bye. She told me that her husband had two brothers in the Northern service—one in the army and the other in the navy. The two army brothers were both in the battles of Shiloh and Perryville, on opposite sides. The naval Bankhead commanded the Monitor when she sank.
—— introduced me to a German militia General in a beer-house this afternoon. These two had a slight dispute, as the latter spoke strongly in disapproval of “secret or night lynching.”
The recent escapade of Captain Peñaloso seems to have been much condemned in San Antonio. This individual (formerly a butcher) hanged one of his soldiers a short time ago, on his own responsibility, for desertion and stealing a musket. This event came off at 12 o’clock noon, in the principal placa of the city. The tree has been cut down, to show the feelings of the citizens.
There can be no doubt that the enforcement of the conscription has, as a general rule, been extremely easy throughout the Confederacy (except among the Germans); but I hear of many persons evading it, by getting into some sort of government employment—such as contractors, agents, or teamsters to the Rio Grande. To my extreme regret I took leave of my friend McCarthy this evening, whose hospitality and kindness I shall never forget.
I left San Antonio by stage for Alleyton at 9 P.M. The stage was an old coach, into the interior of which nine persons were crammed on three transverse seats, besides many others on the roof. I was placed on the centre seat, which was extremely narrow, and I had nothing but a strap to support my back. An enormously fat German was my vis-a-vis, and a long-legged Confederate officer was in my rear.
Our first team consisted of four mules; we afterwards got horses.
My fellow-travellers were all either military men, or connected with the Government.
Only five out of nine chewed tobacco during the night; but they aimed at the windows with great accuracy, and didn’t splash me. The amount of sleep I got, however, was naturally very trifling.
No date, first page of letter being lost. Probably April 27, 1863.
We had a snow here on Saturday night which continued yesterday morning and is now about gone. The roads are now in pretty good condition, and if the enemy wish to make the attack, there is, I think, no reason now for deferring it on account of the roads. But, darling, there is no telling when it will be. The future, ever a mystery, is more mysterious now than ever before. Our destiny is in the hands of God, infinite in his justice, goodness and mercy; and I feel that in such time as he may appoint he will give us the blessings of independence and peace. We are a wicked people, and the chastisement which we have suffered has not humbled and improved us as it ought. We have a just cause, but we do not deserve success if those who are here spend this time in blasphemy and wickedness, and those who are at home devote their energies to avarice and extortion. Fasting and prayer by such a people is blasphemy, and, if answered at all, will be by an infliction of God’s wrath, not a dispensation of his mercy.
The future, as you say, darling, is dark enough. Though sound in health and strength, I feel that life to many of us hangs upon a slender thread. Whenever God wills it that mine pass from me, I feel that I can say in calm resignation, “Into thy hands I commend my spirit.” In this feeling I am prepared to go forward in the discharge of my duty, striving to make every act and thought of my life conform to his law, and trusting with implicit faith in the salvation promised through Christ. How I wish that I were better than I feel that I am; that when I close my eyes to-night I might feel certain that every thought, act and feeling of to-morrow would have its motive in love for God and its object in his glory! Well, so it is. Why is it we cannot feel sure that the sins of the past are never to be repeated? May God give me strength to be what I ought to be—to do what I ought to do! And now, darling, good-bye. When we meet again, I hope you will have a better husband— that your prayer and mine may be answered.
Monday, 27th—It rained all day and we marched into Richmond early this morning, taking shelter in cotton sheds, vacant houses, and any shed that would turn water. The Third Brigade is quartered in gin houses and negro shacks. White and I had a fine bed to sleep in last night. The land here is so nearly on the dead level, that it is almost impossible to keep out of mud and water, but we have plenty of cotton for bedding.
April 27 — This morning we started back, by the way of Franklin in Pendleton County, to our old camp at Harrisonburg. When we had proceeded about five miles on our way it was reported that a raiding party of Yankees was pursuing us. We halted in the road at a good position ready to go into action, but the report proved to be false, as there were no loose Yanks near. We marched on through a hilly and mountainous region, crossing Mill Creek four or five times during the day. Late this evening we struck the Franklin and Petersburg pike. Now camped on Mill Creek in Pendleton County.
April 27, Monday. Finished and gave to the President my letter on the subject of mails on captured vessels. It has occupied almost every moment of my time for a week, aided by Eames, Watkins, and Upton, and by suggestions from Sumner, who has entered earnestly into the subject.
The President was alone when I called on him with the document, which looked formidable, filling thirty-one pages of foolscap. He was pleased and interested, not at all discouraged by my paper; said he should read every word of it, that he wanted to understand the question, etc. He told me Seward had sent in his answer this morning, but it was in some respects not satisfactory, particularly as regarded the Adela. He had sent for Hunter, who, however, did not understand readily the case, or what was wanted.
April 27. — General woke me up at 2 o’clock this morning to write some orders for Captain Lubey in regard to the canvas pontoon train. Received a telegram from him at 7 in the evening, saying that he was at Washington Navy Yard. Day was pleasant. Everything points towards a movement to-morrow night.
April 27—Left here at 3 this morning. Got to Greenville at 6 A.M., stayed a quarter of an hour, and marched to the crossroads, nine miles from town; got there at 6 P.M.
