September 28

September Twenty-Eighth

The Alabama  had been built in perfect good faith by the Lairds. When she was contracted for no question had been raised as to the right of a neutral to build and sell to a belligerent such a ship. The reader has seen that the Federal Secretary of the Navy himself had endeavored not only to build an Alabama, but ironclads in England.

Raphael Semmes

 

John Laurens born, 1754

 

 

Monday, September 28th.—There are hundreds of people in deep new black in this town; what must it be in Berlin? The cemetery here is getting full of French and British soldiers' graves. Those 1200 sailors from the three cruisers had fine clean quick deaths compared to what happens here.

We have got our baggage (kit-bags and holdalls) down to the station at the Red Cross Anglaise, and are sitting in our quarters waiting for the word to come that No.— train is in. Met Miss —— in her car in the town, and she said that it was just possible that the train might go down to Havre this journey, she wasn't dead sure it was doing this route! If so we shall be nicely and completely sold, as I don't know how we should ever join it. But I'm not going to believe in such bad luck as that would be till it happens.

It has been an anxious morning for me; went over to Sandy Hook and waited until 11 o'clock a. m. when the clerk handed me my leave, and I must say, I felt like a new man. I hurried back to Harper's Ferry and found Mr. Hicks there in search of his brother Lieut. John Hicks of my regiment, who was wounded in the thigh at Fisher's Hill. I waited until 4 o'clock p. m. and took the cars for Baltimore, but the train was delayed and it did not arrive there till 2 o'clock a. m. Sept. 29.

bronze

No. 12.

An ideally artistic and realistic bronze statue of a young Union soldier in campaign costume, erected by Massachusetts in the National Cemetery at Winchester, Va., to its patriot dead there. This cemetery is one of the prettiest and best kept outside of Washington, D. C.

No. 12.

An ideally artistic and realistic bronze statue of a young Union soldier in campaign costume, erected by Massachusetts in the National Cemetery at Winchester, Va., to its patriot dead there. This cemetery is one of the prettiest and best kept outside of Washington, D. C.

No. 12.

An ideally artistic and realistic bronze statue of a young Union soldier in campaign costume, erected by Massachusetts in the National Cemetery at Winchester, Va., to its patriot dead there. This cemetery is one of the prettiest and best kept outside of Washington, D. C.

September 28, 1862

Sunday night. Meeting to-day. Chaplain Parker preached. He asked those who would stop swearing to hold up their hands, and so far as I could see every hand went up. After inspection in the morning we had nothing to do except to go to meeting and dress parade, which I believe we are to have regularly. We march to the parade ground, which is just back of our camp quarters, and form in line. The colonel, with the major and adjutant on his right and left, station themselves in front, the colonel opposite the colors, which are in the center, between Companies C and H. The fifer and drummer pass along in front and back again when the colonel puts us through the manual of arms. A great many civilians come out and it must be a pretty sight, provided the orders are well executed. If we do well, nothing is said, but if not, we are cautioned to do better next time.

How I wish I could peep in on the old folks at home to-night! I imagine just how they are sitting around, talking, perhaps of me, or better yet, writing me a letter.

There is no use denying that I am homesick. I have been such a home-body, and my home life has been so pleasant.

The comforts of my home, though humble, have been many, and I have never missed them as I do to-night. I have only been away a short time, but it seems longer to me than all my life before. It has been crowded so full of strange and stirring events that it seems as if I would go crazy unless I can see and talk with our folks about it. Mr. Parker says confession is good for the soul, and I believe it, for after confessing to my diary as I have I feel better already. I will crawl in now and perhaps dream of home, which I often do, and which while it lasts, is just as good as being there.