February 18th. Arrived at Martinsburg at 2 A. M. Left Jersey City early yesterday morning. After an uneventful trip arrived in Baltimore at 4 P. M. Left at nine o’clock. Met other members of the regiment bound for camp. When we got there lay down for a little rest and sleep. At daylight attended roll-call, after which I was given a hearty welcome by the boys of Company C. Thankful for the furlough and the good time. Connecticut did look good to me as I again turned my back to it, facing southward, bound for old Virginia. Again writing letters home after my safe arrival in camp.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Thursday, 18th—Our provision trains came in from the rear today and we are thankful for the hardtack which we have been without for three days.
February 18th 1864 (Thursday)
This is the coldest weather that I have ever seen in Washington, that is for Six years. The Mercury was below zero this morning. The River is again frozen over, but there is no snow on the ground and the streets look quite lonesome. A cold cutting wind banishes everybody but those who must go.
February 18th, 1864.
Time creeps along with steady pace, regardless of human happiness or woe. Winter has come and gone—the second winter since I bade farewell to family and friends to battle for my country, and, as I believe, for human liberty. How long the time appears; and yet, how short! When viewed in the light of sundered ties—of family connections, once pleasant and joyous, now broken—it seems an age. Oh, God, can so much misery be crowded into eighteen short months? It is not of physical ills I speak, but tortures of the mind—the heart. My only consolation is the abiding faith that we will meet again; and then how surpassingly sweet will be the reunion. If this is not to be our happy lot on earth, it is said to be “Sweet to die for one’s country.” I but go where duty calls, leaving the event with God—not heedlessly, blindly, but in trustful confidence. I see by the newspapers the Eighth Michigan regiment is in Detroit. I hope they may be made welcome by the good people of Michigan. Much has been done for the benefit of the soldiers, but the people will never know—they cannot realize—how much these soldiers have done for them in turning back, from their peaceful homes, the devastating tide of war.
There is no news—now and then a cavalry dash, but nothing of importance. A steamer is now lying at our wharf, the first since the rebellion broke out. Two more are expected tomorrow.
Huntsville, Thursday, Feb. 18. Camp policed early. 9 A. M. Company marched down town to receive pay for the months of November and December, 1863. Returned at 2 P. M. Camp and park inspected by Captain Budlong, I. G. of the Division.
February 18, Thursday. Chase sent to my house this evening a miffy letter. I had written him freely and frankly my repugnance to the system of permits granted, or proposed to be granted, for cutting and collecting ship-timber. Heaton, his agent, proposed to stop granting more either from compunction or to give favorites a monopoly. I expressed my opposition to the whole system as demoralizing, and denied the right to give permits to commit waste. Chase takes exception and perhaps offense; says my letter reads like a lecture and is very unacceptable. Thinks I neither wrote nor read it.
I answered that I wrote it without suggestion from any one; that I was unreserved, and perhaps unfortunate, in my expressions, but that the opinions were honestly entertained and were my convictions, but I disclaimed any intention to lecture or give him offense. The party and political movements just at this time make Chase sensitive, and I award him due allowance.
February 18th. Mrs. Caldwell, wife of the general, arrived to-day. She is young, pretty, and amiable in appearance, and received a hearty welcome. Alvord’s sister also arrived, accompanied by her father. Miss Alvord is petite and very charming indeed. I fell in love with her immediately and have by common consent been allowed to take her in to dinner.
by John Beauchamp Jones
FEBRUARY 18TH.—This was the coldest morning of the winter. There was ice in the wash-basins in our bed chambers, the first we have seen there. I fear my cabbage, beets, etc. now coming up, in my half barrel hot-bed, although in the house, are killed.
The topic of discussion everywhere, now, is the effect likely to be produced by the Currency bill. Mr. Lyons denounces it, and says the people will be starved. I have heard (not seen) that some holders of Treasury notes have burnt them to spite the government! I hope for the best, even if the worst is to come. Some future Shakspeare will depict the times we live in in striking colors. The wars of “The Roses” bore no comparison to these campaigns between the rival sections. Everywhere our troops are re-enlisting for the war; one regiment re-enlisted, the other day, for forty years!
The President has discontinued his Tuesday evening receptions. The Legislature has a bill before it to suppress theatrical amusements during the war. What would Shakspeare think of that?
Sugar has risen to $10 and $12 per pound.
February _ _, 1864—Mrs. Gamble’s party was delightful, the band gave us fine music, the camp provided plenty of partners and there are young ladies galore in Tallahassee. Last night one of General Cobb’s staff officers told me the Capers Battalion had been sent to guard Tallahassee, in case of invasion. He said General Dickenson and General Miller and General Finnegan were all ordered to Lake City and several Georgia. Regiments had gone on, too. Colonel Scott, he said, was guarding the Gulf Coast. I wonder if this can be true? If it is he ought not to be telling it around but I shall not repeat it. I have not given his name to you my little Diary, but I cannot help thinking it is a pity for those who give parties to have punch. It certainly loosens the tongue and I do not believe this information would have come to me but for the big bowl of regent’s punch.
I was dancing last night with a young soldier, from the mountains around Rome, Georgia, he was loud in his praises of Colonel Capers. “Do you know, Miss Bradford, I did not know how to read and write when I was sworn in? I felt terribly ashamed when I found how ignorant I was and the Colonel found it out and he taught me sometimes and, when he was too busy, some of the boys helped me and now I can read ‘most anything I come across and I can write whatever I want to say. Besides that I have learned so much just listening to him talking with the other boys. I am not the only one who has been helped; there are twenty of us, all about the same age and all from the Rome country, none of us had any book-learning and he has taught us all.” Isn’t that a fine thing for a man to do?
(This diary was written in pencil and in many instances the dates are almost, or quite, illegible. The month and year are plain but the figures are not so plain; particularly is this the case during the years of warfare, possibly the pencils were poor, or the paper might have been. At any rate we ask our readers to be lenient if some little mistakes occur.)
February 18.—An expedition, consisting of four hundred men belonging to the National cavalry, under General Gregg, left Warrenton, Va., last night, to examine the country in the direction of Middleburgh and Aldie. This evening the party returned, bringing in twenty-eight of Mosby’s rebel guerrillas and fifty-one horses. On their return they were charged on by the rest of the guerrilla band, for the purpose of retaking their fellows, but the charge was repulsed, and one more prisoner added to those already in the hands of the Union cavalry.
