Benson’s Mill, Va.,
June 1, 1863.
Dear Cousin L.:—
You see by the dating of my letter that we have moved again. Benson’s Mill is the most appropriate name of this village. I wonder they didn’t call it a city or at least a “ville.” It is a larger place than Charles City or Chancellorsville, as it contains two buildings, and those places only one each. Perhaps I am wrong about Charles City and it ought to be called the city of magnificent distances, for there is a jail about half a mile from the court house, and a tavern of “ye olden time” the same distance the other way, probably all within the limits of the corporation.
But about our moving. Our brigade had just got comfortably settled in the nicest place for a camp I have seen yet, when at 10 o’clock one morning the order came, “Break camp and prepare to march immediately,” and by noon we were on the road. We found that we were to relieve cavalry pickets on the river and at the fords beyond the infantry lines of the army. The brigade is scattered along the river for six or eight miles. The Eighty-third is on the right at Richards Ford, the Twentieth Maine next at United States Ford, the Sixteenth Michigan next at Benson’s Mill and the Forty-fourth New York (Ellsworth’s Avengers) at Banks Ford on the left. The camps are near the fords, and the pickets extend right and left to connect with each other and watch every point. The rebel pickets are in plain sight on the other side of the river, not over ten rods apart, and though no communication is allowed, there is some talking across the water. One of the rebs called out yesterday at United States Ford: “I say, you Yanks, why didn’t you shoot General Hill? He stood right here half an hour ago.” Our boys had seen a man pass along their lines, but supposed he was the officer of the guard. There is a good understanding between them, and neither side will fire unless an attempt to cross is made. The rebs go in bathing on their side the river, and our boys do the same on ours. Colonel Vincent and his staff rode along the lines in plain sight and I followed carrying the flag, but they did not fire. I thought it was a risky piece of business, but I think I can go where he can. I am afraid he is a little too rash sometimes. We were riding along the bank last night just about sunset. Suddenly he stopped, and taking a map from his pocket, commenced to examine it. Just in the edge of the wood on the other side I saw the glistening of a rifle barrel, and I uttered some exclamation of surprise. “What is it, Norton?” said he. “Nothing,” I replied, “only I was thinking if I was a picket here, and should see a rebel general across there, I couldn’t resist the temptation to draw a bead on him.” “Well, it is a little risky to stop, that’s a fact,” said he, “we’ll get out of this,” and I was glad when he got out of range. Confound ’em! I don’t think it’s safe to trust them. I wouldn’t be afraid of their firing at me, but I’m afraid to trust their promises with a Union officer within range of their guns.
I don’t remember whether I told you that I had returned to my old place at headquarters or not. I came back on the 22d of May. Colonel Vincent took command of the brigade then and took me with him. Headquarters are located near the center of the brigade, and of course I have no bugling to do. In fact I have just nothing to do. The Colonel says he shall find me some work in the office, copying orders, probably.
We are pleasantly situated, though it seems rather lonely to see none of the regiments about.
Strawberries are beginning to ripen, and I presume we shall have them quite plenty, as there are so few to pick them.
I am much obliged for your description of the house and its inmates. I think I have a pretty good idea of it now. I had no idea till lately that you had so large a family. That young man—well, I suppose he is like most young men in that respect. No doubt he did not intend to do any such thing, but was betrayed into it.
And now I’ve got a “bone to pick” with you. “It seems much more terrible” to enslave a white child than it does to enslave a black one. You “suppose it is no worse,” but “it seems to be.” Then you have some of the prejudice of color? You must be more guarded. Don’t let such expressions drop in your letters to me, for I may make capital of them to oppose your “radicalism.”
