I am at last safely
encamped with the Fourth Texas Regiment in a beautiful grove of chestnut on a
hillside about one mile from Raccoon Ford on the Rapidan about seventy-five or
eighty miles from Richmond, and must say that I feel better and happier and of a
clearer conscience than since the war commenced.
We have no tents and
few blankets, mine being lost, you know, and being replaced by a light one which
Aunt Mary Stark gave me. The ground is hard but the weather is pleasant and
water fine. I did not believe I could feel so well satisfied so far from you,
but, thank God, that I have a full and perfect faith on one point,
viz: that whatever may await me, heaven will protect you and
the children. I have not felt uneasy for a moment on that subject, and this
morning I took out my Bible and opened it by chance and found the (104th) one
hundred and fourth Psalm on the mighty power and providence of God. Can you not
trust in such a power and enjoy yourself and feel satisfied? I do not want you
to be sad a moment on my account.
I am perfectly well
and have bacon, bread and a clear conscience. I have consummated the desire of
my heart in connecting myself with this brigade. I intend to remain with it
until it returns to Texas under a reign of peace, or I expect not to return at
all. All of the Waco boys are well except Allen Killingsworth. I am afraid he
is dangerously sick. He was in the hospital a month ago and came out too soon.
He has a high fever and flux and is very weak this morning.
Billy Dunklin and
all the rest are well. We have been encamped at this place for a week and may
be ordered to move at any moment. I knew everything the brigade was doing when
I was at home and on the way here, but am unable to find out anything about it
now. We know less than anybody else. Tom Williams is the same old Tom. The
whole brigade is in fine spirits, and it really does seem strange to see
men who have lost so many friends seem so careless and happy. They sometimes
talk almost like bullies at a street corner, except with a mild, calm air of
determination and no swagger. The usual feeling seems to be, "We can't be
whipped, but we may all be killed." I am satisfied that an imprudent
leader could carry them to destruction. I met Tom Lipscomb yesterday on the
cars. He is a major in Hampton's Brigade, in Butler's Regiment. Your brother,
Lamar Stark, has been scouting in the enemies lines for more than six months. A
few days ago he got into a fight; he was captured and Gillespie Thornwell was
killed. Lamar is now a prisoner in the Old Capitol at Washington. Some of them
have been exchanged already by lot, but Lamar was not drawn. He is well treated
and will doubtless be exchanged soon. I learned this from Lipscomb, who got it
from returned prisoners; so do not despond about him.
If you ever get my
letter in which I make some suggestions about your coming to Columbia, you must
let them be qualified by any change in the condition of our affairs in the
West. Leave the servants by all means, all of them, and do not
go more than $500.00 in debt. If you try it, write to me from Jackson,
Mississippi. As soon as I get too sick to march or get wounded I will come to
Columbia. You and Bro. Burleson, Mrs. Pearre, Miss Lambden, Dr. McDonald
and Mrs. Carter must pray for me.
SOURCE: John Camden
West, A Texan in Search of a Fight: Being the Diary and Letters of a
Private Soldier in Hood’s Texas Brigade, pp. 60-3
