Letter No. XI.
Camp Near Culpepper,
July 27th, 1863.
My Precious Wife:
I wrote you quite a full letter yesterday and sent it to the Fourth Texas Department at Richmond, the agent for which is very particular in seeking opportunities to send letters across the river, but still it may not reach you, so I have determined to try another channel which I have found to-day. Captain Hammon, quartermaster of our regiment will start for Texas to-morrow and has kindly consented to take this for me. You see by the caption that I am back at our old camp, which I am beginning to regard as home. I am sitting near the same spot from which I wrote you more than a month ago, and my surroundings pretty much the same, except the absence of our Lieutenant, Joe Smith, who was killed at Gettysburg.
He was a very talented and excellent officer, enjoying, perhaps, more than any officer in the regiment, the confidence and trust of headquarters. His loss is a very serious blow to the company. By the goodness of God I came safely through, though many were killed around me. One bullet passed through my beard, grazed my ear and struck a rock about an inch from my head. A piece of the lead flew into my upper lip, but caused no interruption or serious inconvenience. Our move into Pennsylvania was a failure, and I think General Lee never would have attacked the enemy in their position on the mountain side except for the splendid condition of his army, and his confidence in its ability to accomplish anything he chose to attempt. Our division was on the right of the entire line and our brigade the last but one on the extreme right of the division, and just opposite to one of the strongest positions of the enemy, which was on a high mountain and defended by batteries on mountains still higher. We took and held the lower heights long enough to capture the batteries, but were unable after several charges to scale the higher ones, being subjected to a fire on our left flank and in front while attempting to climb over rocks and gorges, which would have delighted a mountain goat.
On the third day, late in the evening, our center gave way, and we were compelled to retire down the mountain and take our position in the open field, where we threw up breast works and awaited the advance of the enemy. We remained here during the entire fourth day of July, and such another fourth I never expect to spend. We had no meat and very little bread for two days. Had not taken off our accouterments during the time, and the rain poured incessantly, so that the water on the level plain was two or three inches deep. On the following evening we discovered that the enemy were satisfied and were moving off. We were in no condition to follow. We remained on the battlefield until 2 o’clock at night, during which time I snatched a nap or two by lying on three rails, which kept me above water. In the battle I threw away my haversack and contents, except a flannel shirt and a pair of socks, which I tucked under my belt. I lost the socks and have been for several days without any, but have not experienced the inconvenience I expected, except in having my ankles considerably lacerated by briers in marching across the fields. I have had no change of clothing since, and hence have been compelled to throw away my undershirt, which had become a harbor for innumerable body lice. Don’t blush or be shocked; no true soldier is free from them, and I will scrub well before I come home. I am having my only underwear washed to-day, and owing to a large rent in my pants, would be subject to arrest in any well managed city, for improper exposure of my person in a public place. However, these are small matters, and we will smile over them in the better days to come. You must not try to send me anything, or trouble yourself in the least degree about me, unless you choose to send me some little token by some one who will deliver it to the agent of the Fourth Texas Department at Richmond. I have left you to take care of yourself, and you must not be disturbed about me. God will take charge of both of us. I have experienced no inconvenience in health for want of clothing. Since I have been here Allen Killingsworth has given me a pair of socks, and while I write this sentence Charley Darby sends me another pair; so I have two pair, and feel flush on socks. I have a good pair of pants in Richmond, and another for winter in Columbia, so don’t trouble yourself by thinking of me or my misfortunes, but smile, chat and keep well. Attend to your music, your Latin and the improvement of the children. Watch your chickens and turkeys as if you expected me home to eat them as soon as they are grown. I wrote to you and Stark on the 8th and 9th from Hagerstown, and this is the second letter since then.
I have no idea that you will ever get the others, but some hope that this will reach you. All the Waco boys are well and at their posts now, except Herrington, Clark and Majors. Herrington is in the hospital on account of his eyes, Majors is on the way to us now and Clark is at Sulphur Springs. Since Vicksburg has fallen I think you had better not attempt to go to South Carolina. You are safer in Texas. Our cause looks a little gloomy now, but I have no fears of the final result. I believe the war has been prolonged by the late success of the enemy, and perhaps it would be better if I were on your side of the Mississippi. I said in my letter yesterday that we would have another great battle in twenty days, but I hear now that it is the opinion of our generals that there will be no considerable engagement for several weeks, though nothing is certain.
I wrote to the attorney-general of the Confederacy yesterday that I had left my office in Texas and gone into the army, and saying that I would return to Texas if he thought it desirable or necessary, but I believe I am where I ought to be and I think he will sanction my course. Every able bodied man ought to be where he can strike the hardest blow for his country.
I received a letter from Decca Stark of June 23rd. Lamar, Douglass and sister Mac are in Columbia. I doubt not we will have a reunion after awhile. You and the friends whom I have named must still offer your prayers for me, and I shall fear no harm, for nothing but the special favor of God has preserved me thus far. Tell Stark and Mary to obey you and get their lessons, and when I come home I will take one on each knee and tell them about the soldiers. Remember me to the servants. May God and the good angels guard you and the little darlings. I have had but one letter from you.
Your husband, faithfully ever,
John C. West.
