Lieutenant Francis H. Wigfall to Senator Louis T. Wigfall, July 7, 1863

Camp near Williamsport, Maryland,

July 7th, 1863

Dear Papa,

Since the 13th of June, inclusive, there has not been a day on which we have not marched. Our battery and two guns of McGregor's were with the cavalry, Fitz and W. H. F. Lee's brigades and Hampton's on the expedition round the enemy. We started on the march the 24th of June and reached our lines at Gettysburg the 2nd of July just before night. Genl. Hampton captured a train of 200 wagons and burnt some of them within seven miles of Georgetown, the Yankee army lying at Frederick. We brought into our lines at Gettysburg one hundred and sixty odd. We reached this place yesterday afternoon while a fight was going on for the possession of the ford, the enemy endeavoring to drive us from it. The battery was not engaged however. Orders have just come to move.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 139-40

Lieutenant Francis H. Wigfall to Senator Louis T. Wigfall, July 8, 1863

July 8th.

We are now near Funkstown. Young Winston is going over the river this morning and may go as far as Hanover. Everything is wet around, it having rained nearly all night and there is not much chance for elegant letter writing. We were engaged on the third day of the fight at Gettysburg with a battery of the enemy at long range. It was opposite the left of our line where the Cavalry was fighting. Tell Mama to write to L. for me if she is not with you and until we halt for a day or two at least you may not expect to hear much or often from me. Give my best love to dearest Mama and L. and little F. Good-bye dear Papa and believe me as ever,

Your affectionate son,

Halsey.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 140

Lieutenant Francis H. Wigfall to Charlotte Cross Wigfall, June 18, 1863

Rector's X Road, June 18th, 1863.

Dear Mama,

I have written L. twice in the last two weeks and the reason I did not write you after the fight (Brandy Station) was that you were so close (Orange C. H.) I did not think you would feel uneasy at not hearing from me. The best proof you can have of my safety, except hearing so positively, is by hearing nothing. Moving with the Cavalry here to-day and there to-morrow, it is impossible to keep up a regular correspondence.

The wounded are always sent to the rear and if I am ever unfortunate enough to be placed in that category I shall certainly let you know. So till you hear positively to the contrary make your mind easy on my account. We marched from Starke's Ford the day your letter is dated (14th) and came up by Amisville, Gaines' X Roads, Flint Hill, Orleans, Piedmont on the Manassas Gap R.R., Paris, Upperville and Middleburg to Dover Mills, which we reached yesterday afternoon and where we engaged the Yankee Cavalry and Artillery. I was detached from the battery in command of the Whitworth gun of my section. This piece lost none. The other piece of my section and one of Johnston's three pieces each lost one man killed. These were the only men of the battery lost. The drivers of the Whitworth in trotting through a gate ran against one of the posts and snapped the pole short off. . . .We were falling back at the time so there was no chance to repair it. The enemy was flanking us so we were forced to fall back, making a circuitous route and striking the turnpike between Upperville and Middleburg late last night. The battery is about to move now, so good-bye. You must not expect to hear from me regularly but write yourself frequently.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 138-9

Charlotte Cross Wigfall to Lieutenant Francis H. Wigfall, June 27, 1863

orange C. H., June 27th, 1863.

. . . I was very glad to get your note of the 18th June, and only wish I knew where you were now. We are all an anxious set of women at present. Mrs. Gordon (J. B.) leaves to-day for Winchester to try and hear something of her husband. He commands Lawton's old brigade. . . .

We are all much delighted with the accounts from the Yankee papers — of their alarm and dismay — but it seems unaccountable, after their disgraceful and barbarous treatment of our people that we should not be repaying them in their own coin.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 137

Lieutenant Francis H. Wigfall to Louise Wigfall, May 2, 1863

We have had a glorious fight this afternoon. Drove the Yankees from the start and kept them going as fast as we could follow until dark. Major Beckham and Capt. Breathed and I were with my Howitzer which was the first piece of Artillery fired. The fight began about half past five. The first shot the Yankee Artillery fired was a spherical case: one of the bullets struck me on the arm. It was however, entirely spent. Three of our pieces and one of McGregor's were the only ones of the Horse Artillery engaged. I wrote last night, but don't know whether you got it. Don't look to hear from me until the fighting is over, for there are no mails. It is all mere chance as to getting a letter to you. Out of our three pieces we only lost one man. He was killed. I write by moonlight on a limber chest and on Yankee paper. Our men in the highest possible spirits. Everything is bright.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 129-30

Louise Wigfall to Lieutenant Francis H. Wigfall, May 15, 1863

richmond, May 15th.

. . . Lieut. J. called to see Mama and delivered both the letter and the overcoat. The letter was by far the most welcome of the two, as we had heard so little from you since the battle.  . . . Though your first letter written by moonlight on a limber chest was the most romantic, the last was by far the most satisfactory and interesting.

Hood's Division passed through several days ago and we girls had our usual fun, waving, &c, &c. Quantities of prisoners, thousands at a time, have passed also. 3,000 went through on the day that General Jackson's funeral took place. Quite a misfortune happened last night in the way of the Tredegar Iron Works taking fire — or being set on fire as some people believe by Yankee spies. Genl. Anderson they say has lost an immense amount of money and it will seriously retard the making of arms. Mama is thinking of leaving town Monday, for what destination she does not know. She and Papa both think it useless to wait in Richmond for information of a pleasant locality, so they have determined to get on the cars and travel till they come to some agreeable stopping place. They will then write me of their whereabouts and I will join them, as soon as my examinations will be over, which will be the end of June. There is no news of any sort at present in Richmond. Everything jogs on as usual — and the devotees of the Capitol and Franklin St. take their usual promenades, and with the exception of a new face now and then, and a little variation in the way of stars and gold lace, all is the same as when you were here last winter. Richmond is looking beautifully just at present but in a few weeks the heat and dust will have become intolerable.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 130-1

Charlotte Cross Wigfall to Francis H. Wigfall, May 17, 1863

I send you, with our letters, a pound of candy and a box of Guava jelly which was given me. I know you have no sugar, and I have no doubt that although you will laugh at the idea you will nevertheless enjoy the sweets. Mrs. McLean (Genl. Sumner's daughter) has been staying with Mrs. Davis for three weeks, waiting for a passport from the Yankee Secretary of War, and Mrs. Chesnut told me the other day that it had been peremptorily refused — so I doubt if Rose will be able to get to Baltimore to her children. We are all very anxious to know the next move. I heard yesterday that Genl. Stuart was to go immediately on an extensive raid, but your father says it is not so. Genl. Lee is still here. Your father is talking of going up with Genl. Stuart in the morning.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 128-9

Charlotte Cross Wigfall to Francis H. Wigfall, May 12, 1863

I have just come up from witnessing the funeral procession of dear “old Stonewall.” I never saw a more solemn scene and hope never to see another such. This morning early I went to the Governor's and saw the body lying in state. He looks perfectly natural, more as if he were asleep than dead. No one seems to know who will succeed to his command.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 127

Charlotte Cross Wigfall to Francis H. Wigfall, May 11, 1863

May 11th, 1863.

We are all saddened to the heart to-night by hearing the death of our hero Jackson! In addition to our own irreparable loss, it will put new life and courage into our cruel foe. It will cause mourning all over our land and each person seems to feel as if he had lost a relative. I feel more disheartened about the war now than I have ever felt before. It seems to me, it is to be interminable, and what a wretched life of anxiety it is to look forward to! I suppose the death of Jackson has affected us all and I can't help thinking it will put new life into the enemy and give him courage to make another attempt very soon. You see by the papers they claim having taken almost as many prisoners as we have and I am sure the loss of Jackson has turned the last fight into a calamity, if not a curse. I expect you will think I am really blue — but you know Jackson has been my hero and favorite for a long time. We must, though, hope on, hope ever!

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 126

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EDITOR’S NOTE: Francis H. Wigfall was then with Fitz Lee’s Cavalry Division.

Francis H. Wigfall to Louise Wigfall

Camp near Chesterfield Station.

. . . My home is in a wild pine grove and sweetest melancholy, poesy's child, keeps watch and ward over my innocent spirit. I sit on my bench and muse on the time when the Yank-Yanks shall meet me in battle array and when, “Virginia leaning on her spear,” I shall retire on my laurels with one arm and no legs to some secluded dell to sigh away my few remaining years in blissful ignorance. But a truce to such deep Philosophy. We are all jogging along as usual. All the day I long for night, and all the night I long for its continuance. In fact it is very disagreeable to get up to attend Reveillé rollcall, as I do every fourth morning, and it is vastly more pleasant to remain in my comfortable (?) bed and have no other care upon my mind than that of keeping warm with the least exertion possible. But then comes that inevitable too-diddle-tooty, too-diddle-tooty, &c, &c, &c, and up I have to jump and go out in the cold to hear that Von Spreckelson and Bullwinkle are absent and look at the exciting process of dealing out corn in a tin cup.  . . . The snowing began before daylight yesterday morning and kept it up with scarcely an interval until late last night. It fell to a depth of about nine inches. This morning, the 1st, 4th, and 5th Texas Regiments came by our camp, marching in irregular line of battle, with their colors gotten up for the occasion, and with skirmishers thrown out in advance, and passing us, attacked the camp of the 3rd Arkansas, which is immediately on our right. A fierce contest ensued, snow balls being the weapons. The Texans steadily advanced, passing up the right of the camp; the Arkansians stubbornly disputing their progress, and their shouts and cheers as they would make a charge, or as the fight would become unusually desperate, made the welkin ring. A truce was finally declared and all four regiments marched over the creek to attack Anderson's brigade. After crossing they formed in line, deployed their skirmishers, and at it they went. The Georgians got rather the best of the fight and drove them back to the creek, where they made a stand and fought for some time. They then united and started back across the Massoponax for Genl. Law's brigade. Just before arriving opposite our camp they saw another brigade coming over the top of the hill behind their camp (i. e., Anderson's) and back they went to meet them. How that fight terminated I don't know.  . . . I suppose this rain and snow will retard the movements of the enemy too much for them to attempt to cross for some time to come.  . . . Yesterday and to-day have been lovely days and I trust that the weather will clear up and continue so. I expect Burnside feels very grateful for the interposition of the elements to give him an excuse for deferring a little longer the evil day on which he is forced to attack us or be decapitated.  . . . I saw in my ride the other day a body of Yankees, apparently a Regiment, drawn up in line, firing. They were using blank cartridges I suppose. This looks as though they had some very fresh troops. If that is the case they had better keep them out of the fight, as they will do precious little good in it. . . .

Christmas eve we went to see the Hood's Minstrels perform. One of the best performances was “We are a band of brothers” sung by three make-believe darkies, dressed entirely in black, with tall black hats and crepe hatbands, looking more like a deputation from a corps of undertakers than anything else — and was intended, I suppose, as a burlesque upon Puritanism. At all events it was supremely ridiculous.  . . . I understand that several of the tailors in Charleston have committed suicide lately, driven to it by the ruinously low rates at which their wares (no pun intended) are now selling. They can only obtain two hundred and fifty dollars for a second lieutenant's uniform coat and pantaloons. Poor wretches! They should bear their burdens with more patience, however, and remember that (according to the newspaper) the hardships of this war fall on all alike and must be endured by high and low, rich and poor, equally. I saw Col. Jenifer who told me he had met Papa and Mama at a party at Col. Ives's in the city of Richmond. Isn't that dissipation for you? Do they have cake “and sich” at parties now, or is it merely “a feast of reason and a flow of soul?” And in conclusion tell me of my overcoat. Have you seen it? If not, has anybody else seen it? If not, how long will it be, in all human probability, and speaking well within the mark, before somebody else will see it?  . . . My old one has carried me through two winters and is now finishing the third in a sadly dilapidated condition. There is a sort of “golden halo, hovering round decay,” about it, which may perhaps be very poetical, but is far from being practical as regards its weather resisting qualities. . . .

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 114-7

Francis H. Wigfall: November 15, 1862

camp near Culpeper,

Nov. 15th, 1862.

As Capt. Bachman is going down to Richmond on business I take this opportunity of “tellin’ ’em huddy fur me, an’ ask ’em for sen’ me sumfin.” As this is a strictly business letter I will proceed to enumerate the articles desired. Primo, one large black valise. Item, a plenty of writing paper (this is my last half sheet) and envelopes and a few postage stamps. Item, one buffalo robe and blanket. Item, the horseman's overcoat of which I wrote in my last, and which was to be made of the heavy bluish grey cloth now at the Qr. Mrs. Clothing depot in Richmond or any other suitable stuff, with long skirts and cape and lined throughout with woolen stuff and at the Qr. Mrs. dept. which will be cheaper, “vich it is a very good thing,” all of the aforesaid to be accomplished through the instrumentality of the “ubiquitous Banks.” Item, the coat to be double-breasted. Item, if the coat is not finished by the time of Capt. Bachman's return don't send it by him! Item, My BOOTS! Item, some soap and a tooth brush. Item, my red silk sash. Item, one of my razors — my shaving brush and soap. Item, if possible to be procured, one travelling toilet glass — this last very important! Our horses are getting more than they can eat—and we ourselves fare very well, so far as an abundance of beef and bread is concerned. We got a little Sorghum molasses the other day and have had some sweet cakes which were very good, I assure you. We have a battery drill and are at the manual of the piece every day — and altogether camp life is somewhat endurable though Mama's pen-knife won't compare to it in dullness. I was at Genl. Hood's Head Quarters this morning. Since he has got to be a Major Genl. he has moved into a house and I suppose intends to live in style! . . .

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 112-4

Francis H. Wigfall to Louise Wigfall, November 23, 1862

Camp, near Fredericksburg, Nov. 23rd, 1862.

. . . We reached here on yesterday afternoon, having left Culpeper on Wednesday about twelve o'clock. We were on the road three days and a half, and it rained every day but the last. So you see that we have been enjoying ourselves. The Yanks were to have begun the shelling of Fredericksburg on yesterday, but they did not keep their word. We met yesterday, ladies on foot in all the mud and wet, five and six miles from the town; the women and children having been ordered to leave the place in anticipation of the opening of the fight. What kept the enemy from fulfilling their threats I don't know. They demanded a surrender and the authorities refused; they then gave the citizens until nine o'clock the next morning to move out the women and children: they afterwards deferred it until two in the afternoon, but when two o'clock came the Yankee shells did not. The citizens in this section from all accounts have suffered terribly from the presence of the Yankees in their midst and I think are prepared to undergo any privations rather than see the enemy again among them.

I am much obliged for the things sent me — especially the razor, as cats are very scarce in camp and cream more so.

We had a magnificent supper last night consisting of preserved salmon, sardines, pepper vinegar, beefsteaks, biscuits and butter and real coffee. It was quite a shock to my system, I assure you. . . .

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 97-8

Louise Wigfall to Francis H. Wigfall, October 24, 1862

Amelia Springs, Dec. 5th, 1862.

Mama and Papa returned last Saturday; they having come with General Johnston and staff and Mrs. Johnston, on a special train from Richmond, and parted from them at this place.

. . . What is the general impression as to Fredericksburg? Will your battery be in the engagement, if there is one? The rain is pouring and Mama hopes it will prevent Burnside from advancing. . . .

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 96-7

Francis H. Wigfall to Louise Wigfall, October 24, 1862

Camp, near Winchester, October 24, 1862

I had a very pleasant visit to Rosser's Camp where I spent the night. On my way down I met Genl. Stuart and stopped and had some conversation. He was in as high spirits as ever, and told me particularly to tell you, when I wrote, that in his recent raid into Pennsylvania he got nothing but “Apple butter” and “Dry water.” You know he is a “Total Abstinence Man” in practice. The next day I rode down to Shepherdstown about eight miles from Camp with Rosser and through the town to the river bank (the Potomac) where our cavalry pickets are stationed. The Yankees who still picket entirely with infantry have their lines on the opposite bank. While I was in that neighborhood Jackson's Corps, and McLaw's Division from this Corps, were hard at work destroying the B. & O. R. R. They have also torn up the track of the road between Winchester and Harper's Ferry and it will be a long time befor these roads can be repaired. I put my last postage stamp on this letter and I understand there are none in Winchester.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 95-6

Louise Wigfall to Francis H. Wigfall, November 14, 1862

November 14, 1862

Mama sends you by Capt. Sellers the buffalo robe and blanket and also a cake of soap, which will be sufficient for present emergencies — and as soon as another occasion offers she will send some more. Mama says as soap is $1.25 a cake you must economise! Capt. Sellers will also take the flag that Mama has had made for the 1st Texas; the tassel on it is one taken by Col. Brewster, from the field of Shiloh, just where Sidney Johnston fell, and of course therefore enhances the value of the flag. We are expecting to leave Richmond next week for Amelia, to return in January when Congress meets. Genl. Johnston reported for duty yesterday and we suppose he will be given command of the Department of the West. They are expecting to leave by Wednesday of next week, so you see there will be a general breaking up of our nice little “Mess.” I am really very sorry; for Mrs. Johnston is a sweet lovely person.  . . . Mama has promised to leave us with her next Summer when she and Papa go back to Texas. There have been several distinguished visitors at our house last week—viz., Prince Polignac; an M. P.; and our Bishop General Polk. Yesterday Major Daniel (Examiner) and Col. Myers dined here. Mrs. Elzey and the General were here evening before last: he is to have another operation performed on his jaw, poor fellow, and he looks miserably.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 91-2

Louise Wigfall to Francis H. Wigfall, November 9, 1862

November 9, 1862

We had quite a snow-storm day before yesterday, and it is still very cold. I am afraid our poor soldiers will suffer dreadfully from the weather this winter, as I heard yesterday that we had upwards of 10,000 men without shoes!

Genl. Johnston is improving, and speaks of reporting for duty in two weeks, but Papa says he doubts if he is able.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 90-1

Louise Wigfall to Francis H. Wigfall, July 15, 1861

July 15th, Longwood, near Boston.

. . . I received your last letter several days ago, and I had a letter from Mama about the same time, telling Grandmama to send us on by the first good opportunity, but the way Mr. Walters said was the only way we could go would not have been safe, and I am now anxiously awaiting news from Mama as to whether we shall go to Fortress Monroe, and let Papa send a flag of truce, and get us or not. My trunks were all packed ready to start at a minute's notice, when we received Mr. Walter's letter, telling us that the only way of reaching Richmond was by going through Winchester, to which you know the troops are making a general movement.

You may imagine how I felt. When Mr. Walters wrote the last time, all was different, and I fully expected to go home. I had already pictured our meeting. I almost felt your kiss and I heard Papa calling us “his darlings” and Mama's dear voice, and in one moment all was gone, and I glanced out of my window and instead of Richmond, I saw miserable old Boston. I felt as if my heart would break.

You ask me in your last if I am not “isolated” — that is exactly the word. With the exception of Emma Babcock, and her family, there is not a soul here that cares whether I go or stay, or that I could call a friend; but if nobody likes me, there is some satisfaction in knowing there is no love lost. If I did not follow your injunction, and never believe what I see in Republican journals I should have an awful time of it; for they make out the most desperate case. All the C. S. soldiers are poor, half starved, naked, miserable wretches that will run if you stick your finger at them; who are all waiting for a chance to desert, etc., and become loyal citizens to King Abraham, the First, and prime minister, General Scott. The Southerners are defeated in every engagement; all the killed and wounded are on their side, and none are injured on the other. Such is about the summary of their statements — mais je ne le crois pas, and so they don't disturb my mind much. I saw that Papa had gone disguised as a cattle drover to Washington, to pick up information for the President! That is about a specimen of their stories. Mama writes me in her last that you have joined the Military School at the University of Virginia, and would enter the army in three months, if you wished to, at the end of that time. I suppose you are very glad. I don't wonder and wish I could go too. I sit down to the piano every day and play “Dixie” and think of you all away in “the land of cotton,” etc.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 60-2