I had just received a present of coffee. This was at once roasted and ground. On the day of the march fires were kindled before dawn under the great pots used at the "hog-killing time" (an era in the household), and many gallons of coffee were prepared. This was sweetened, and when our men paused near the house to form the line of march, the servants and little boys passed down the line with buckets of the steaming coffee, cups, dippers, and gourds. Every soldier had a good draught of comfort and cheer. The weather had suddenly changed. The great snow-storm that fell in a few days was gathering, the skies were lowering, and the horizon was dark and threatening.
After the men had marched away, I drove to the hospital tent and put myself at the disposal of the surgeon. We inspected the store of bandages and lint, and I was intrusted with the preparation of more.
Meanwhile John, who was left behind, indemnified himself for the loss of the excitement of the hour by abusing "the nasty abolition Yankees," singing:—
"Jeff Davis is a gent'man,
An' Linkum is a fool!
Jeff Davis rides a fine white horse,
An' Linkum rides a mule," etc.
He was not the only one of the nation's wards who held the nation in contempt—root and branch, President and people. The special terms in which he loved to designate them were in common use among his own race. Some of the expressions of the great men I had known in Washington were quite as offensive and not a bit less inelegant, although framed in better English. I never approved of "calling names," for higher reasons than the demands of good taste. I had seen what comes of it, and I reproved John for teaching them to my little boys. "No'm," said John, crestfallen, "I won't say nothin'; I'll just say the Yankees are mighty mean folks."
My dear general found the enemy at the "Deserted House"; and there gave them battle. He may tell his own story:—
"Carrsville, Isle of Wight, January 30, 1863.