Beverly Ford, Va.,
Sept. 7, 1863.
Dear Friends at Home :—
I am enjoying good health now, “and I hope these few lines will find you the same.”
The weather has been very cool for a week or so, and the nights so cold that we can hardly be comfortable under two blankets. It is growing hot again now, though I think the hottest weather is over.
I see no prospect of an immediate move. Every one seems to be settled as though he intended to make a stay of it, and yet for aught I know we may be up and off before night. We have been here a month to-morrow and the men are rested and supplied with clothing and just as ready to move to-day as they will be in another month, but the men I hoped to see here by this time filling up the skeletons of the old regiments have not come. Two hundred have been received in the Eighty-third. That is all in our brigade. They are all armed and equipped now and doing full duty and the Eighty-third looks something like a regiment again, but all the others need recruits as much as we.
This three-hundred dollar provision don’t suit me exactly. Not that it is a hardship, but it seems to me mistaken kindness on the part of the government. The practical working of the system is that the government gets $2,700 and one man for every ten men drafted. Very few men are unable in some way to raise three hundred dollars, and as a rule they raise it. The government may get considerable money to bounty volunteers, but they will be too late. We want the men now to finish up the job this fall. The papers say they are coming at the rate of a thousand per day, but I “can’t see it.” Of course I don’t know about the rest of the army, but they don’t come to our corps at the rate of a thousand per month.
Deserters continue to come over from the rebels, and if one could believe the stories they tell, it would not take many troops to wipe out Lee’s army, but I put but little confidence in them. Their statement of the feeling of the army is always colored with their own dissatisfaction. No doubt, Lee’s army is in a measure disheartened and the rank and file would be willing to accept any terms of peace, but their leaders have a way of dealing with that sort of enthusiasm so different from ours that we shall find a pretty large “obstacle” any time we start for Richmond, and for that very reason we want the men.
Every paper that I see lately is telling how nearly used up the rebels are and how soon the war will end. I think they are taking the wrong course, raising hopes and expectations that will be disappointed. Charleston is not taken yet and Richmond is not taken, and they won’t be for some time. I am now entered on the last of my “three years” and am not building any very big castles on what I am going to do before that is served out. There are few who have stronger faith in the ultimate triumph of our arms, but this thing of “a few days,” “starved out,” “no men,” “worthless currency,” and all that is played out. It will take a long pull and a strong one well backed up to finish the job yet. So much for the prospect.
My letters from E. inform me that he has changed his base. Bidwell dismissed him one day without a word of warning. From what E. writes, the only motive he could have had seems to be the fact that he was paying him more than he earned, and his excuse was shabby enough. Of course you have heard the particulars before this. I always thought E. had made a big bargain to begin with, and I think if the man had told him so and reduced his pay some till he could earn more, E. would have consented. Well, he won’t have that to contend against now, at all events. I don’t know what you will think of the propriety of his going away so and making a new engagement without consulting his parents. Perhaps it was not right, but I must say I admire the energy and self-reliance he displayed in thus looking out for himself, and the determination to do something in spite of disappointments. One thing is certain, he won’t have much temptation to dissipation on his “margin” of twenty-five cents per week, and his employer little temptation to discharge him for over-pay. I sent him one of my watches Saturday and the other one I can’t sell or give away to advantage now. I send five dollars in this and think I won’t send any more now, unless we are paid soon. I don’t expect any more till about New Year’s. It was the 26th of January last year before we were paid again.
I see that you, Mother, still talk about sending me something to eat. Now, I don’t think it will pay at all. I am doing well enough. Sometimes I think I would like a little butter or fruit, just as you wish you had the thousand and one things you don’t have and can’t get. But it don’t make any great difference to you in the long run, and it don’t to me.
H., your receipt for cooking “growley” isn’t worth a picayune. Soaking don’t help ’em.
