Hampton, Va., March 26, 1862.
Dear Sister L.:—
I received your letter of the 16th at Alexandria, but there has been no opportunity to send letters till now.
We have had so much of the checkered experience of life in the field that I cannot write the tenth part of what I could tell you if I could have a talk with you, but, as it is, I don’t know as I could do better than to write a few extracts from my diary: “Friday, March 21st. Porter’s division embarked at Alexandria on board a fleet of thirty steamers and transports. Saturday, 22nd, got under way at 12 m. and steamed down the Potomac. Passed Mount Vernon at 1 p. m.; had a good view of all the rebel batteries on the Virginia side; slept on deck under our little tents; woke in the morning in a puddle of water that ran down the deck. Sunday, 23rd: Had a splendid ride down Chesapeake Bay, and arrived at Fortress Monroe at 4 p. m.; anchored in Hampton Roads alongside the Monitor and opposite the country residence of ex-President Tyler. A French man-of-war lay near by and our band entertained the messieurs with the “Marseillaise,” and afterward with schottisches, polkas, cotillions, etc., the marines dancing to the music on their quarter-deck.
Monday, 24th: Undertook to land, but the Columbia ran aground and the Nantasket took off four companies. We then got off at Hampton landing, marched through the ruined village of Hampton and bivouacked in the fields southwest of the town. I saw the walls of the old stone church in which Washington used to worship. It was burned with the town, by Magruder. Hampton was a beautiful old town built almost wholly of brick and stone, but it looks now like the pictures of ancient ruins.
Tuesday, 25th; Broke camp at 8 a. m. and took the road to Great Bethel. After marching about four miles, our advance skirmishers reported that the rebels were posted two miles ahead in force that it would not be prudent for us to meet. We then turned into the pine woods west of the road and pitched our bivouacs—the whole division. This was done so that if the rebel scouts discovered us they could not estimate our numbers. Our pickets are half a mile ahead. They captured fifteen rebels just after sundown. H. is out with them and forty-five men from our company. The news was brought from the Fortress that our mortar-fleet had taken New Orleans with all the shipping and $10,000,000 worth of cotton. Also that the rebels were evacuating Norfolk and burning the town.
This takes me up to to-day, and my diary isn’t made out any further.
Last night was cold. We had a little frost. T. and the Rabbi froze out at midnight and got up and made a big fire and snoozed by that the rest of the night. The weather is very changeable. Grass begins to grow here and peach trees are in blossom. The country here is very low and swampy. We are bivouacked in a pine swamp. The woods are full of vines and trees that I have never seen before, and the pine is a kind that I never heard of. The leaves are many of them nearly a foot long and as shaggy as they can be. They make splendid beds.
My health continues excellent. I march easier every day, and the last march I scarcely felt my knapsack.
We have not had a letter or paper since we left Alexandria, so we don’t know anything about what is going on. I guess my letter-writing is about “played out.” for my last stamp pays this postage and I haven’t had a cent of money this fortnight.
