We were lying in camp at Camp Simon No. 2 when we received orders to get ready to leave for Virginia. A soldier’s baggage, like his money, is always scarce, and we were not long in packing. All extra baggage was discarded, and boxes, baskets, tin pans, etc. were left strewn over the camp grounds. A train of cars soon came for us, and one car only being allowed to a company, we were necessarily crowded and warm, it being the last of June. We go to Charleston about four in the evening, and were compelled to remain there until nine at night, for want of means of transportation to carry us. We were here greatly disappointed, and the whole regiment very angry. We had all entertained the idea of getting to go the upper road which could have taken us all close to home and was as near as any other way to Virginia, but when we got to Charleston it was decided to send us the Wilmington and Manchester railroad, and I can tell you there was some tall cursing done that day, but it is a soldier’s duty to obey orders and we were compelled to the way were ordered, we took our spite out in eating watermelons and fruit and a goodly number o them went down that well worn path, a soldier’s throat; we left Charleston that night at nine o’clock, and was fast carried away from the state of our pride and birth, some never to return again. We passed through Old Rip1 by way of Wilmington and Goldsboro up to Weldon from thence to Petersburg and Richmond. We were one week on the road and at last reached Richmond without occurrence of anything worth mentioning. It was near ten o’clock at night when we reach Richmond. We were formed into lines in the streets and marched directly through them, saluted by deafening cheers by the populace, and the ladies looked timidly from their windows, and waved handkerchiefs and nightcaps in abundance. We marched out to the race course, two miles from the city and encamped there that night without tents, although raining a little, but we soon got to abhor tents, and would rather take the open air from long usage. We remained here several days, spending our time visiting the city, and to the theater and the different curiosities that Richmond affords. My father came to see me here but stayed only two days and left at the same time that we got orders to move. In obedience to the order we moved seven miles from Richmond to the neighborhood of Laurel Hill. Here we pitched our camp in a pleasant old field, this camp was called Camp Mary. We had lain idly in camp for two or three days when we received a most disagreeable order which was to go to work throwing up fortifications, breastworks, etc. Our Brigade was divided into two parts and we took it day about in the trenches. Now I tell you, this work is anything but fun. One of you home guards look at us poor fellow, sweat rolling down their sun burned cheeks, scorching sun pouring down in full vigor on the partly naked bodies of our brave soldiers. Look at them as with sheer dreariness, they are wont to drop down to sleep, and tell me how you would like to fill their places. You would certainly stain your white kid gloves and get some Virginia clay on your snow white pants and your beautiful Saxon complexion would certainly take a deeper and darker color. Oh, you young, dandified monkeys, Second Chesterfields, this is an age more fitted for the Blount Norman than the prim “Francais.” Enough of this.
