The dry January conditions described by Chadwick in a previous letter encouraged Burnside to make another attempt to cross the Rappahannock several miles above Fredericksburg. But no sooner did he start the move than heavy rains transformed roads into quagmires, and the army bogged down. The debacle of “The Mud March” led to Burnside’s resignation and his replacement by Major General Joseph Hooker.
Three miles northwest of Fredericksburg
January 22, 1863
My dear Mother:-
I will endeavor to write my accustomed weekly letter to you, and under very unfavorable circumstances. The whole army is moving—everything is packed away in wagons, so I have neither pen no rink at hand.
With anxiety I awaited Pa’s letter of the 14th, which I read day before yesterday, for I was very anxious to hear from you. I never longed to see you as much as now and would make application for a furlough for a short time, but I know it would not be granted. I have hopes of your recovery for Pa said in his last, “I am not discouraged.” If I could render you the least assistance, I would desert temporarily and come home, but I know you will have every care and attention possible.
With sorrow I learned of the death of Mary Jane Barr. It must indeed be very sickly at home this winter. I think that “Death, the sullen alchemist, whose crucible separateth the spiritual essence from the dross,” claims more victims at home from disease, than here in the army.
Jo. Ross returned to the regiment day before yesterday and brought two shirts and two pairs of stockings from you. The shirts are just what I wanted—and as you made them yourself, I prize them more highly. I have not tried them on yet, but I know they will fit me. Jo. tells me that the children have grown a great deal since we left home—he says that Mary can sing better than any child of her age that he ever saw. Tell her I am very proud of such a smart little sister and when I come home, I will be sure to bring her a present.
I saw Leander Myers yesterday—he is not much larger than when he was at Mr. Jolly’s—he is well. I saw E. W. Davis also—he wished to be remembered to you and Pa. Everill Chadwick is well.
The army moved yesterday about one hundred twenty-five thousand strong to again cross the Rappahannock, though not at the same place as before—we are to cross six miles further up and come around in the rear of the enemy’s fortifications. I have no doubt of our ultimate success. The roads were frozen up when we started, but it commenced to rain last night and has been drizzling ever since—I sat out last night in the rain and slept tell half past one, as I had no tent for shelter but I was no worse off than every soldier in the army. The mud is so deep in some places that it takes twelve horses or mules to draw one wagon and then they are constantly stalling. You can form no idea of the condition of the roads. The whole army is now massed in a space of about three miles. The pontoons are not yet put down but will be today I suppose. The condition of the roads may possibly check our movement but I do not think it will. I have excellent health—plenty to eat (such as it is) and good bedding and shelter except on a march, but I am well off to what many are. Pa said that my letter of week before last had not been received.—I wrote as usual.
Tell Miles I never received that box of good things sent me by the ladies of Meadville—it was stolen at Alexandria. Well, I must close for this time.
With an earnest hope and wish for your speedy recover[y], I am, my dear Mother,
Your affectionate son, J. D. Chadwick
Next posting: January 29, 2013
Jonathan E. Helmreich
College Historian
Allegheny College
Meadville, PA 16335