28th.—Our hearts ache for the poor. A few days ago, as E. was walking out, she met a wretchedly dressed woman, of miserable appearance, who said she was seeking the Young Men’s Christian Association, where she hoped to get assistance and work to do. E. carried her to the door, but it was closed, and the poor woman’s wants were pressing. She then brought her home, supplied her with food, and told her to return to see me the following afternoon. She came, and with an honest countenance and manner told me her history. Her name is Brown; her husband had been a workman in Fredericksburg; he joined the army, and was killed at the second battle of Manassas. Many of her acquaintances in Fredericksburg fled last winter during the bombardment; she became alarmed, and with her three little children fled too. She had tried to get work in Richmond; sometimes she succeeded, but could not supply her wants. A kind woman had lent her a room and a part of a garden, but it was outside of the corporation; and although it saved house-rent, it debarred her from the relief of the associations formed for supplying the city poor with meal, wood, etc. She had evidently been in a situation little short of starvation. I asked her if she could get bread enough for her children by her work? She said she could sometimes, and when she could not, she “got turnip-tops from her piece of a garden, which were now putting up smartly, and she boiled them, with a little salt, and fed them on that.” “But do they satisfy your hunger,” said I? “Well, it is something to go upon for awhile, but it does not stick by us like as bread does, and then we gets hungry again, and I am afraid to let the children eat them too often, lest they should get sick; so I tries to get them to go to sleep; and sometimes the woman in the next room will bring the children her leavings, but she is monstrous poor.” When I gave her meat for her children, taken from the bounty of our Essex friends, tears of gratitude ran down her cheeks; she said they ” had not seen meat for so long.” Poor thing, I promised her that her case should be known, and that she should not suffer so again. A soldier’s widow shall not suffer from hunger in Richmond. It must not be, and will not be when her case is known. Others are now interested for her. This evening Mrs. R. and myself went in pursuit of her; but though we went through all the streets and lanes of “Butcher Flat” and other vicinities, we could get no clue to her. We went into many small and squalid-looking houses, yet we saw no such abject poverty as Mrs. Brown’s. All who needed it were supplied with meal by the corporation, and many were supporting themselves with Government work. One woman stood at a table cutting out work; we asked her the stereotyped question—”Is there a very poor widow named Brown in this direction?” “No, ladies; I knows two Mrs. Browns, but they ain’t so poor, and ain’t no widows nuther.” As neither of them was our Mrs. B., we turned away; but she suddenly exclaimed, “Ladies, will one of you read my husband’s last letter to me? for you see I can’t read writing.” As Mrs. R. took it, she remarked that it was four weeks old, and asked if no one had read it to her? “Oh yes, a gentleman has read it to me four or five times; but you see I loves to hear it, for may-be I shan’t hear from him no more.” The tears now poured down her cheeks. “He always writes to me every chance, and it has been so long since he wrote that, and they tell me that they have been fighting, and may-be something has happened to him.” We assured her that there had been no fighting— not even a skirmish. This quieted her, and Mrs. R. read the badly written but affectionate letter, in which he expresses his anxiety to see her and his children, and his inability to get a furlough. She then turned to the mantelpiece, and with evident pride took from a nail an old felt hat, through the crown of which were two bullet-holes. It was her husband’s hat, through which a bullet had passed in the battle of Chancellorsville, and, as she remarked, must have come “very nigh grazing his head.” We remarked upon its being a proof of his bravery, which gratified her very much; she then hung it up carefully, saying that it was just opposite her bed, and she never let it be out of her sight. She said she wanted her husband to fight for his country, and not “to stand back, like some women’s husbands, to be drafted; she would have been ashamed of that, but she felt uneasy, because something told her that he would never get back.” Poor woman! we felt very much interested in her, and tried to comfort her.
February 2014
February 28th. Nothing important has taken place since the last date. Sunshine, cold, rain, and snow has come to us weatherwise. Certain duties must be kept up regardless of weather. Attended church in town. Masonic funeral in town this afternoon. The drum corps of our regiment furnished the marching music. Many soldiers taking part in the parade who were Masons. They helped to carry on the service. The citizens were pleased to have the help of the soldiers.
by John Beauchamp Jones
FEBRUARY 29TH.—Raining moderately.
There is a rumor that Frederick’s Hall, between this city and Fredericksburg, was taken to day by a detachment of the enemy’s cavalry, an hour after Gen. Lee passed on his way to the army. This is only rumor, however.
A dispatch from Gen. Lee’s Chief Commissary, received to-day, says the army has only bread enough to last till the 1st of March, to-morrow! and that meat is getting scarce again. Col. Northrop, the Commissary-General, indorses on this, that he foresaw and frequently foretold that such a crisis would come. He says transportation sufficient cannot be had, and that he has just heard of an accident to the Wilmington Railroad, which will diminish the transportation of corn one-half; and he says a similar accident to the Charlotte Road would be fatal. Comfortable! And when I saw him afterward, his face was lit up with triumph, as if he had gained a victory! He predicted it, because they would not let him impress all the food in the country. And now he has no remedy for the pressing need. But the soldiers won’t starve, in spite of him.
Sunday, 28th—The supply trains started on ahead for Vicksburg, taking with them about six thousand contrabands and refugees—men, women and children, both white and black, of all sorts and sizes. The rebels drove in our pickets today, but did not come any closer. The report is that it is Wheeler and his cavalry.
Monday, 29th—The rebels drove in our pickets again last night and there was some skirmishing, but when we commenced cannonading they fell back. General McPherson has his headquarters here in a fine residence, and I am one of three men who have to walk the beat in front of his headquarters; we had the same duty the entire expedition, when his headquarters was in a residence or in his tent in bivouac.
Columbus, February 29, 1864.
Dear Mother: — We are having a pleasant visit. The new Mrs. Platt we like well. Her presence will be a good thing for the little folks and Laura receives and treats her in a very sensible and happy way.
I go to Cincinnati tomorrow or day after, and early next week leave for the Kanawha.
Affectionately,
Rutherford.
Mrs. Sophia Hayes.
28th. Thede and I attended church together. Heard Prof. Finney in the morning. Prof. Morgan in P. M. Good sermons. Heard Mr. Fairfield in evening. “Repent, lest we grieve the spirit of God.” Thede went forward. I feel determined through God’s grace to do, work and live for Jesus hereafter, less for self.
29th. Thede went to Pittsfield and around to see if he couldn’t find a recruit. Melissa and I went to Minnie’s. Came home for Thede but he had gone away. Took Floy over. Waffles and sugar for supper. Floy and I went to Young People’s meeting. Interesting. M. caught cold.
February 29, Monday. A strong effort is on foot by naval officers who have been retired and their friends to set aside the law and the action under which they were retired. Working to an end persistently, without organized opposition, they may, with a weak Congress, effect their object, though to the public detriment. It would be easy for me to yield to my sympathies for these men and their families, who are in many cases most deserving of sympathy, could I disregard my duty and the public interest. To oppose them is to incur unforgiving resentment; to yield will be a disregard of my obligations. I shall not be sustained in standing firm by my friends; nevertheless my course is plain. I have prepared a letter that gives my views, which I will send to the two houses. A call is made for all correspondence that has taken place, as well as the meagre records of the Retiring Board. The correspondence cannot be collected without time, but the argument and record can go in at once.
Have received the prize law by Dana and Judge Sprague and made suggestions and corrections. On scrutinizing, it appears to need more emendations than I at first supposed.
February 29 — To-day the Yankees attempted a raid on Charlottesville and the Virginia Central Railroad. A force of about twenty-five hundred cavalry and two pieces of artillery, all under the command of General Custer, advanced on the Earleysville road and came within one mile of our camp before we were apprised of their approach. They were then advancing rapidly, and we were wholly unprepared for any such winter surprise in this part of the country. However, we hurriedly mixed up a drastic dose and administered it under unfavorable and difficult circumstances, yet it eventually had the effect of saving Charlottesville from the hands of the marauders. The raiders rushed in so suddenly on our camp that we had no time for preparation, even for a forced leaving, consequently many of our company lost all their baggage, and some of the men even lost their blankets. Our artillery horses were scattered all over the fields and we had scarcely time to get our guns out before the Yanks were right on us; in fact we had to fire some of our pieces in park, before we had our horses hitched up, in order to check the oncoming raiders long enough to give us a little precious time to say good-bye to our winter quarters and get our guns moved to a more advantageous situation. As it was, we had to leave our caissons in the tender care of the enemy, and abandoned all baggage and kitchen utensils.
By the time we had our horses hitched to the pieces and were ready to move, blue-coated horsemen were riding excitedly among our quarters, firing their pistols and brandishing their sabers, trying to play thunder in general with the horse artillery. We rapidly got our guns out and to a good position, and opened a rapid fire on our own camp, which was then full of Yankee cavalrymen destroying our winter home.
Our artillery fire completely checked the raiders, and they did not proceed any farther in the direction of Charlottesville than our camp. We had no support whatever in the way of sharpshooters or cavalry, and about two hundred horse artillerymen, including the lame, sick, and Company Q, with no sabers, very few pistols, and one old battle flag, with our guns successfully defended Charlottesville against the brave and gallant Custer, with his twenty-five hundred well-armed horsemen and two pieces of artillery. A little strategy seasoned with a large proportion of the finest kind of deception were the principal weapons and instruments with which the backbone was entirely and efficiently extracted from the great Custer’s raid on destruction bent, without bloodshed on our side.
The undoing of General Custer’s raid was accomplished in the following manner: We had sixteen guns in our battalion, all in position and ready for action after we got out of our camp. The guns in the artillery were served with as few men as possible, and Captains Breathed and Chew formed the remainder of the artillerymen into a newly composed regiment of cavalry, and drew them up in battle array just in rear of the artillery, with an old Confederate battle flag waving over the center of the pseudo cavalry line. There was not one rifle or carbine in the whole crew, a few pistols and one or two sabers composing all the dangerous arms; the rest of the men had sticks and clubs. Some of them had pieces of fence rails, and all sorts of representative sabers and carbines were on exhibition to make the command appear warlike, formidable, and dangerous. We kept up a rapid artillery fire until the enemy’s cavalry begun to waver and retire toward the Rivanna. When they got beyond the range of our guns our motley cavalcade advanced and retired the enemy beyond the Rivanna. As a parting deception, with good effect, Captain Chew called out with a loud voice and commanding tone: “Tell Colonel Dulaney to bring up the Seventh Regiment.” The Yankees heard it and struck for the safe side of the Rivanna. That ended the last act of the raid. Colonel Dulaney’s regiment is at Mount Crawford in the Shenandoah Valley, but calling for it in the range of a Yankee’s ear had the desired effect of discomfiting the doughty raiders at their last stand on our side of the Rivanna. The whole Yankee force retired beyond the Rivanna late this evening.
We moved back four miles south of Charlottesville, on the Scottsville road, and camped.
February 28 — We had preaching in camp this afternoon by the Rev. Mr. Beach of Charlottesville. Text, eleventh chapter and twenty-eighth verse of Matthew.
St. Helenaville, S.C., Sunday Evening,
February 28, 1864.
Rina was telling me of how the Rachel who lived in this house used to shelter her master here long after we all came, even till late in last summer. He used to sleep in the house every night and hide in the woods by day. It was only when the pickets were sent up here the last time that he got away.
In this dining-room there is a whipping-post and pulley for stretching and whipping. Then there leads off our fodder room and then Rina’s kitchen. Behind our north chamber there is a narrow slip of a room for a guest chamber; upstairs, two garrets, one for boxes and trunks, the other for our little Clarissa. To-night I asked her whether the clock (which Mrs. Phillips ordered out of the church and which is in our kitchen) was going. She said, “I dunno, ma’am, but I heardy him knock he bell.” She meant, strike.
We have two pomegranate [trees] and an apple tree, and three housefuls of people and children in our yard. We also have a lot for vegetable garden, and we give half the land for the culture of the other half for our table. We can be very comfortable, for whatever we lack Rina supplies. Once we had not a single thing to eat on the table which was not hers, and she furnishes our rooms and our cupboard with a great many articles we could neither get here nor do without. We burn kerosene and have a nice large lamp of Ellen’s.
