Our corps is lying
in line of battle in the trenches, and has been for six days. The Yankees are
still on this side of the river. The picket lines are within speaking distance
of each other and we exchange newspapers with them every day. I went there this
morning and was never before so close to the enemy when in a hostile attitude.
I saw the New York Illustrated News, and will try to get a
copy to send to you. I stay out on the field with the troops during the day,
but come back to the hospital at night.
Chaplain Beauchelle
messes with Dr. Tyler and me while his messmates are out in the line. He and
Tyler sleep together. Tyler is one of the most wicked and profane men I ever
knew, but he is a very intelligent man and is generous and high-minded. His
father educated him for the ministry, and he and the chaplain argue on
Scripture at night. It is highly amusing, for he is hard to handle in an
argument on Scripture.
I am told that all
of our army has gone in the direction of Manassas except our corps (A. P.
Hill's), which was formerly Stonewall Jackson's. It consists of Pender's,
Heath's and Anderson's divisions, and is about twenty-five or thirty thousand
strong. We can take care of any Yankee force which may come at us in our
present position. I have not seen Edwin in two days, and suppose he is
strengthening the entrenchments here and there where they may chance to be
defective.
My father wrote me
that George was the liveliest child he ever saw, and that it was a matter of
rejoicing when you and George were seen coming.
No comments:
Post a Comment