Sunday Night, April 12th—Mr. —— administered the Sacrament here to-day, the first time it was ever administered by Episcopalians in Ashland. There were fifty communicants, the large majority of them refugees. Our society here has been greatly improved by the refugees from Fredericksburg. The hotel is full. The G’s have rented the last vacant cottage, and are boarding others. The R’s, with their three pretty young daughters and son, occupy the ball-room of the hotel. The dressing-room makes a pleasant chamber, and the long dancing-room, partitioned off into rooms by the suspension of their handsome crimson damask curtains, is very pretty; and, for spring and summer use, makes very comfortable apartments. They saved some of their furniture, and are nicely fixed for refugees, who must do the best they can, and be thankful it is no worse. The C’s seem very happy in the old billiard-rooms; the large room answers the double purpose of dining-room and parlour, and the smaller rooms, which I am afraid were once used for card-playing when this place was a summer resort, are now put to a better use, as sleeping apartments and kitchen for three most agreeable families. One family in the opposite cottage has interested us very much. Mr. Wade (the husband) was an Englishman, who had been in office in Washington; he resigned and came South on the breaking out of the war, placed his family in Richmond, and joined our army; he was not young or healthy, and soon was broken down by the service; he was then made clerk in the Quartermaster’s Department, and removed his family to Ashland for cheapness. He was very highly educated and gentlemanly, and his coming here seems to me very mysterious. Soon after his removal to this place he grew worse and died. His wife and five children were left penniless and friendless. They seemed to have no acquaintances, however slight. The villagers, from their limited resources, raised a sum for her present support, and after much difficulty procured her a situation in the Note-signing Department. She goes into the city every morning on the cars, as do several other ladies to the duties of their offices, leaving her children to the care of a faithful coloured nurse, whom she never saw until two months ago. We have taught her the art of making soap of concentrated ley, and often when she gets on the train, a basket may be seen in the freight-train filled with soap, which she sells to the grocers or commissaries. She is an interesting-looking woman, Northern born and educated. Her father, she says, is a Colonel in the Yankee army. She wrote to him again and again, and one of our gentlemen did the same, representing her case. After long silence he has written to her a short letter, which she showed me, inviting her, in rather an indifferent manner, to come to Georgetown, where her mother is now staying, but remits her no money to pay her passage or to support her here. Our gentlemen have interested Mr. Lawley, an Englishman of some note in Richmond, in her case; and her husband having been a British subject, he may be enabled to get her a passport and a free passage on the flag-of-truce boat.
April 2013
Camp Winder, April 12, 1863.
Your letter of April 7th came to hand yesterday, bringing the welcome intelligence of all well at home. I will spend part of this quiet Sabbath in writing to you in answer to it. It is a very pleasant and warm April day, —so pleasant that our log church has been abandoned and the chaplains had service in the open air. I witnessed to-day what I never saw before: the sacrament administered in the army. It was, indeed, a solemn and impressive scene; a congregation composed entirely of men, standing around in the circle of which the chaplain was the center, receiving the bread and wine in renewal of their vows and fellowship as Christians.
A number were admitted for the first time to the sacrament, and received into the church. The whole assembly wore such an air of seriousness and devotion as I have seldom witnessed before. There was no excitement, but an exhibition of earnest devotion in the discharge of the highest duty on earth. Far away from wife, mother and sister, separated from them perhaps forever in this world, they met, this mild April Sabbath, in the open air, some of them for the first time, and others to renew their sacramental vows of faith in Christ and fresh exertion to deserve his mercy. Men like these, however gloomy the future may be, look to it pleasantly and happily, contented to receive whatever of good or ill God has in store for them with the supplication, “Thy will be done!” Relying with implicit faith upon his mercy, the future is stripped of its gloom and becomes all bright, beautiful and happy. To such men death is no enemy, but a messenger expected from God sooner or later, and welcome as the quick path to a holier and happier life. With such soldiers in our army and such men at home, we might bid defiance to all the boasted numbers and strength of our enemies and feel sure of victory. But it is sadly true that the mass of our men here and at home are not of this type. Very many of our officers and soldiers— very many more, I think, of our people at home—have grown worse instead of better by the calamity which has fallen upon us. It is strange that it should be so; strange that adversity makes us no wiser and better; that our depravity grows deeper and darker in proportion to the severity of affliction. How little we know of the future! Last Sunday I thought another week could not pass without more blood. The reasons which prevented it during the winter—the weather and the roads—no longer exist. We have for some days had good weather and good roads, and no reason why the enemy should not advance, if so disposed. I place but little confidence in my judgment as to what will happen; but I have rather come to the conclusion that the enemy does not mean to attack us here. There is nothing which seems to indicate an advance. I am inclined to believe we have nearly as many men at our command here as they have opposed to us, and I think it likely they know it.
Their balloons go up every day, and from these they have a full view of the location of all of our troops; I suppose we shall have some activity after a while. If they do not move, we shall, I think. Whenever the struggle comes, I feel sure of success—that God will bless us with another signal victory. We have a just cause and a splendid army, and I trust that our next engagement may be attended with such signal success that much will be accomplished towards closing the war. I look to the future with much confidence. Many of us must go down in the struggle, never to rise again. Such may be my fate. Sometimes I try never to let my hopes fix upon anything beyond the war, such is the uncertainty of surviving it. Then I find myself happy in the dream and hope of the time when it will all be over, and I shall be with you again, to spend the rest of life in peace and quiet. God will that it may be so! If not, I am content. Sooner or later we must separate in this life, and it will be whenever God so wills it. Despondency and despair under such circumstances is foolish and sinful. Far better to be contented and complaisant, ready to do our duty and submit in patience to our fate, whatever it may be.
And now, darling, good-bye. Give my love to Matthew and Galla, and a kiss to little Frank. Write often, and believe me, dearest, ever yours.
April 12.—Information having been received by General King, commanding at Yorktown, Va., of the presence of a large body of cavalry in Gloucester County, Colonel A. H. Grimshaw, Fourth Delaware volunteers, in command of the post at Gloucester Point,, was ordered to send out a detachment of infantry for the purpose of reconnoitring the enemy’s position, and, if possible, driving him from some mills which he was reported to occupy, about ten miles beyond the Union lines. Lieutenant-Colonel Tevis, Fourth Delaware, started out at two P.M., with one hundred and fifty volunteers from his own regiment, and having ascertained the force of the rebels to be about two hundred cavalry, under the command of Colonel Goodwin, pushed forward to attack them. The enemy fell back, leaving, however, two of their pickets in the hands of the Nationals. They were ridden down and captured by Colonel Tevis, Lieutenant Tower and Dr. Hopkins, surgeon of the regiment. The detachment returned to camp about nine o’clock P.M., having burned a saw-mill and two large gristmills, filled with grain and flour, for the use of the rebels in Richmond. The prisoners belonged to Fitz-Hugh Lee’s regiment, the Fifth Virginia cavalry. They were well armed, and carried printed orders, signed by J. E. B. Stuart, to seize a number of horses for the use of their regiment, “to replace those killed or disabled during the last campaign.”—Philadelphia Inquirer.
—Lieutenant-Colonel Edgar A. Kimball, of Hawkins’s Zouaves, Ninth regiment of New York volunteers, was killed by General Michael Corcoran, at a point near Suffolk, Va.
by John Beauchamp Jones
APRIL 12TH.—Gen. Van Dorn, it is reported, has captured or destroyed another gun-boat in the West.
Night before last another riot was looked for in this city by the mayor, and two battalions of Gen. Elzey’s troops were ordered into the city. If the President could only see the necessity of placing this city under the command of a native Southern general, he might avoid much obloquy. The Smiths, Winders, and Elzeys, who are really foreigners, since the men from their States are not liable to conscription (vide Judge Campbell’s decision), are very obnoxious to the people. Virginians can never be reconciled to the presence of a mercenary Swiss guard, and will not submit to imported masters.
Notwithstanding the Enquirer urges it, and Mr. Barksdale, of Mississippi, persistently advocates it, Congress still refuses to confer additional powers on the President. Twice, within the last week, Congress has voted down the proposition to clothe the President with power to suspend the writ of habeas corpus. Congress has likewise refused to reconsider the vote postponing the consideration of the bill to create a Court of Claims. Judge S____ was here, working for it, but was doomed to disappointment.
A few nights since, a full Federal band came within a hundred yards of our men, the Rappahannock only separating them, and played “Dixie.” Our men cheered them lustily. Then they played “Yankee Doodle,” when the Yankees cheered. After this they played “Home, sweet Home !” and all parties cheered them. There may be something significant in this. The pickets have orders not to fire on each other, when no demonstration is in progress.
Our members of Congress get salaries of $2750. A cobbler (free negro), who mends shoes for my family, told me yesterday that he earned $10 per day, or $3000 per annum. [click to continue…]
April 12. — Captain Clapp came over this morning with his servant and relieved me as assistant adjutant-general. Lieutenant Van Brocklin went out with a detail of 500 men to repair roads near Bank’s Ford. The detail of 250 men that came from the 15th Regiment was half an hour late, much to the disgust of the general. He had two officers placed in arrest, and fumed and fretted the whole day long. Day pleasant.
April 11th. Everything quiet to-day. During the afternoon, the Albatross (our chicken, as the boys now call her) returned from a reconnoitering expedition up to Fort Adams, for the purpose of ascertaining whether or not the rebels were fortifying that place. I understand she ascertained that they were not, although contrabands coming on board of us from that vicinity, inform us that they were. This is not the first instance that these negroes have told similar lies to us, and made us a good deal of trouble for nothing. Every day we receive reinforcements to the already large number of contrabands we now have to feed, and soon I expect we will be able to form a regiment, composed of these runaways, and send them wherever their services may be required. They are more an encumbrance than an article of use on board a man-of-war, and for my part I wish we were rid of them. In other words, they are a nuisance not to be tolerated (I hope) long in the U. S. Navy. We have some specimens of dark ebony who have been on board the ship a few seconds over a week or ten days, and a white man cannot speak to one of them and receive a civil answer. One cause, and the principal one, of all this is, if my experience teaches me anything, that every officer and man on board any of our vessels, do not all treat them alike. But enough has been said by me about this race of benighted beings. I will leave them here, after remarking that I pity them because they have not good sense, for if they had they would never leave a plantation (a good home during their whole life, and a kind master,) to cast themselves adrift upon strangers and a cold, unfeeling world. I know many will, and I dare say do now, wish themselves back from whence they were foolish enough to run away.
[Diary] April 11.
Ellen, Nelly, and I alone in the house ignorant of the fate of Charleston. The boat-load of “Secesh” were some “big bugs of Edisto,” Rina says, who were taken on Bailey’s Island by Captain Dutch, on the blockading ship Kingfisher. He is a bold and enterprising man and has thoroughly explored these shores and creeks. He knows every picket and fortified position of the rebels near here. They say he goes in a dugout right under the guns and shoots the pickets of the enemy. He discovered that these young gentlemen— the Seabrooks and others of Edisto — had landed on the island to gather corn. He determined to take them and went with a small force, surprised two of their negroes in a cornfield, and compelled them to lead the party to their masters’ camp; all were surprised and taken. Captain Dutch was sending them down to Hilton Head when Rina saw them. I hope they will not be released at once and sent (spies as they are!) back to their friends.
Determined to see action in the Civil War, John C. West, Confederate States District Attorney, Western District Of Texas, resigned his position for a second time and reenlisted with Company E, Fourth Regiment, in April 1863; he fought at Gettysburg, Chickamauga, and Knoxville before being honorably discharged in February 1864.
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The Diary
Left Waco, Texas, on the morning of April 11, 1863; bid adieu to my dear little Stark and Mary at home; said good bye to my sweet wife at the ferryboat landing (at the foot of Bridge street). Nothing of interest occurred on the way to Springfield, (about forty miles east of Waco); saw two or three prairie chickens and a green sportsman trying to kill one; saw at Springfield, as I had left at Waco, a good many stout, able-bodied patriots, who, somehow, kept out of the service; stopped at McCracken’s, fifteen miles east of Springfield, for the night; found Mr. McCracken a strong Houston man and would vote for him for governor if he “had to be hauled to the polls in a wagon.”
I fear there are too many of this kind and others worse, who will elect Houston if he runs. His election will be an invitation to Yankee invasion. However honest he may be in his devotion to the South, the North would regard his election as an endorsement of his past action.
April 11 — Early this morning we were ordered to prepare for a camp move, and by seven o’clock we were ready for the word forward. We moved up the Page valley and marched hard all day, camping this evening five miles below Luray. This evening after we halted to camp we had to walk two miles after hay, and had to bring it across the Shenandoah in a boat.
11th. Left town soon after breakfast. Two negro slaves were snatched from the horses—oh how shameful! Am glad I did not witness the scene. Afterwards several such incidents transpired. How shocking. Major Burnett delivered up one on the word of two Ky. officers. Met the Third Batt. at Mount Sterling. Very pretty country all the way. Letters from Fannie, Will and Fred. Wrote to F. Chaplain at supper. Drake most sick.
