February 9, 1864
My dear Mother,
I received a letter from Henry a couple of days ago, and that, and the letter from you, are all that have so far found me out. I suppose others are on the way, and so, I hope, is the coffee. Yesterday, I received an invitation to dine up at old Ewell's at five. Of course, I accepted, and had quite a pleasant dinner. Pitched into the vegetables in a way that must have astonished Madam Ewell. It was my first chance at long forage that I have had since in the Camp.
I was presented to Miss Brown, Mrs. Ewell's daughter, a dark-skinned, dark-eyed, clever girl, but not very pretty; a very large head, and a stout roll-about figure. I had previously sent up the letter and palmetto. She was very much obliged to Mary for sending it, but wants some instruction as to preparing it for plaiting. The palmetto is very dry and stiff. It will, I think, require soaking in water to give it softness and pliancy enough to be worked. She wants Mary to give her full directions--says that she will write Mary in a few days.
The General's house is six miles from my quarters, and the ride a pretty cold one. Altogether it was a very pleasant dinner. Mrs. Ewell is very agreeable and clever, decidedly smart, and must have been very handsome when she was young. The General is not what he was--so all that know him say. The loss of his limb has seriously affected his usefulness and even impaired his mind. His artificial leg is as poor a concern as I ever saw.
The Yankees gave us a slight turn on Saturday. They drove in our pickets in the morning, crossing the Rapidan under cover of a heavy fog. I paid a visit to General Johnson yesterday, and he gave me a full account of it. About five brigades crossed. It was nearly dark before we got our troops up to the line, and it was then too late to attack. The night was as black as Erebus, but everyone anticipated an engagement in the morning. During the night, they quietly returned to the other side of the river. They had no artillery or wagons with them, and consequently could move without noise. General Johnson said he was within two hundred yards of their lines, and yet did not hear them moving.
During the early part of Saturday night and early Sunday morning, troops and artillery were moved to the front and things looked lively for a little while. For although the Yankees had re-crossed the river, they were in line of battle on the opposite side, with their artillery in position. So both sides stood until Sunday night, when the Yankees moved back to their old quarters. General Lee was quite anxious that they should attack, as our position was a very strong one, and he said that if we could not thrash them out there, we could not do it anywhere. By Monday morning everything was quiet again.
We are having glorious weather. No snow, no sleet, and rain only one day since I have been here. Bright sunny days, but very cold. There is an immense fire in my room, and yet water freezes if you drop it on the door. The roads are as hard as marble. They were in terrible order, and the hard weather has made them solid. One night's snow, and two days sun would put them knee deep in mud.
All the Yankees, dead and prisoners, in the little brush on Saturday are foreigners. Not a real live Yankee among them. General Johnson said he had a good deal of chat with them. Said they re-enlisted to jump the bounty of a thousand dollars. That out of a regiment of three hundred which had enlisted, only forty came back, the rest jumped the bounty, and that since then, they paid the bounty in instalments.
I have seen no one yet who knows, or can form any idea about what we will do when Spring opens. It is thought here that Meade will fall back to Washington as soon as the weather is mild enough to warrant a movement; that he is weak, and will be unable to hold the line he now occupies. If he does, of course, we move too, and perhaps may keep moving on until we go into Pennsylvania again.
I wrote you to send me that coffee. I turned it over to the mess, for of course, I could not have coffee for myself alone. I will send you money every now and then, so as to have funds in your hands. I have no use for it here. Can't buy a thing. I did manage to buy two cabbages about as big as your fist, for two dollars and a half a piece. Turnips were three for one dollar, white peas one dollar and a half a quart. Rather steep that, so I gave up my vision of pease soup, and settled down on the bacon and greens.
You may as well let Nash turn my black cutaway coat, but tell him not to take in as much of it as he did of the black frock coat. He made that so small that I could hardly squeeze into it. Tell Nat to abuse him, and blow him up, and give him the coat to turn.
Kind regards to all at the Canteys.
Yours affectionately
J.C.
P.S. William says he paid Mary the servant at the Southerland's who cared for the terrapins. Inquire into it, and let me know.
Mary Conner Moffet, editor, Letters of General James Conner, C.S.A., (Columbia, South Carolina: R.L. Bryan, Co., 1950), 110-113.
My dear Mother:
How is the jaundice coming on? Better, I hope, and that you don't see everything out of yellow eyes. In the days when we used to have a good deal of it in camp, the sovereign specific was whiskey. You had better take to tippling for a while, and call every day for your whiskey toddy, strong, and without nutmeg?
The staff Bill, which has passed both Houses, is creating some stir in the army, and especially in our corps. Mrs. Ewell, with the best intentions in the world no doubt, has very seriously injured old Ewell, and the very cleverness, which would at other times render her agreeable, has only tended to make her more unpopular. She manages everything, from the General's affairs down to the courier's, who carries his dispatches. All say they are under petticoat government.
The new Staff Bill gives additional rank to the staff of the generals, and old Ewell, acted upon by feminine influences, is dead bent on pushing Campbell Brown, Mrs. Ewell's son, up to be a Colonel, and to do it, he is trying to engineer his other staff officers out of the way. There was a knot of staff officers around my fire the other evening, all discussing their chances, when little Turner, Ewell's other aide, said: "Old Ewell told me he had never exposed Campbell but once, and then was so miserable until he came back, that he did not know what to do: "If anything had happened to him, I could never have looked at his Mother again, sir". "Hang him," said Turner, "he never thinks of my Mother, I supppose, for he pops me around, no matter how hot the fire is." A little after this speech, Turner left, and another staff officer remarked: "Well, Turner is safe, but I am in a tight place. Campbell Brown hangs on to his Mother's petticoats, and Turner is engaged to the little Brown girl, and she will prize him up, but I have to fight against the pair." I had a good laugh at them, all in trepidation about the manoeuvering of two women, and one fond foolish old man. Old Ewell is worse in love than any eighteen year old that you ever saw.
I see Congress has also passed the Currency Bill, the Tax Bill, and Military Bill--three very important Acts--and severe as they unquestionably are, I think they will do good. Even the Examiner, bitterly hostile as it is to Congress and the Administration, says they are wise and prudent measures, and congratulates Congress on its success. The effect, I think, will be good in the North. The re-enlistment of our troops, without bounty or increased pay, is in striking contrast with their scanty re-enlistments, even under the stimulus of large bounties and long furloughs. That has evinced to them that the spirit of the army is up to the mark, and now the passage, after long deliberation, of so severe a currency and tax Bill, will show that the spirit of our whole people is firm and resolved.
No nation voluntarily subjects itself to such taxation and such sacrifices, unless thoroughly in earnest. They must be possessed, inspired, with an unalterable firmness of purpose when they accept such burdens as a means of obtaining their object. I know nothing that will tend so much to convince the North that we are prepared for the worst, and intend to fight it out to the last, as these Acts. Unromantic as it sounds, taxation is the test of patriotism, and people that will stand the money test will endure anything.
The North, once fully convinced of the earnestness with which we fight this battle, will soon commence to count the cost to themselves. The army is very confident, very sanguine and it would do good to croakers if they could spend a week or two in camp and talk to the men.
Mary Conner Moffet, editor, Letters of General James Conner, C.S.A., (Columbia, South Carolina: R.L. Bryan, Co., 1950), 114-116.
Saturday May 14, 1864
Near Spottsylvania Court House
My dear Mother:
An opportunity offers for reaching the mail from which we have been cut off of some days, so I will give you the news to date.
We left camp on the third and fourth; have been fighting ever since. It is an unprecedented struggle; not so much one battle, but a series of battles. Grant was evidently endeavoring to march past Lee and get position, and thus force Lee to attack him, but "Robert" was too smart for him, and struck Grant as he was on the march, and forced him to fight just then and there. In that fight, we whipped them. We drove them back, and then built breastworks, and they charged them furiously, coming up again and again to the attack after the most terrible punishment. We just slaughtered them, and with comparatively slight loss to ourselves.
Saturday we made off to the right, and came to Spottsylvania Court House, and have been fighting here ever since--same style--we behind breastworks, and they attacking, latterly all of the prisoners full of whiskey. Our loss is heavy in officers. Poor Frank Gaillard killed; General Jenkins also, and McGowan wounded. Don't be uneasy about me. You know that I am in the life insurance also. Courier won't wait, so good-bye. Love to all.
J.C.
Mary Conner Moffet, editor, Letters of General James Conner, C.S.A., (Columbia, South Carolina: R.L. Bryan, Co., 1950), 127-128