University of Virginia Library

Letter from Charles N. Tenney to Adelaide E. Case, 7 April 1862

I know you must be very
anxious to know the reason why I do not
oftener write to you, but much as I would
love to have constant correspondence with
you, even daily, yet it seems as if the
"fortunes of War", or something else, are against
me; Every day since I wrote last—(the last
of March[2]) I have inquired if letters could
be sent, and invariably received a
negative answer. But I have grown
impatient at the delay, so write, hoping
to see some one I know, going to Win=

chester[3], with whom I can send this
and thus,"run the Blockade".

I can see no reason why we should
be cut off from mail facilities, as I am sure
there is nothing of special importance
transpiring in this department that should
be kept so profoundly secret, and if it
would do any good, I would "enter my
protest" against it.

Every day since I wrote, we have
had shirmishes with the enemy, but
two or three men have been killed on our
side, and it is known that many of
the rebels have fallen victims to the
unerring aim of our gunners. Even while
I write, skirmishing, and pretty sharp
too, is going on about two and a half
miles from here.

How full of horrors is this unholy
unnatural war! No one can fully com=
prehend the horrors of war, unless brought
into direct contact with it. But it
must be repugnant to you, so I will

change the subject.

As for "my poor unworthy self," I am
enjoying good health, and in spite of
my longing desire for some of those canned
"goodies" which the noble "Aid Society"[4] has
kindly sent to our sick soldiers, I can
not get sick. Yet, it is no great loss.

We have pleasant weather, and fine
times. Chaplain B—I would write Brown
if I could—Wright addressed us to-day
from Prov. 23C, 32V. His remarks
were opportune and well made: if prop=
erly applied, would benefit us very much.

The application was like this—
"The cardinal sins of the army, are—
Intemperance; Profanity; Murmuring; and
Robbery. These, sooner or later, will "bite
like a serpent, and sting like an adder"
The pieces sung, were "Happy Land[5]; A charge
to keep I have,—Boylston[6]; and Once on the
stormy seas I rode,—Bonny Doon[7]."

It was sublimity itself to hear those
old hymns sung in the woods, accom=

panied by our band. You should have
heard it.

Will Braden[8] is sitting by me, talk=
ing with Moore[9],—subject cowardise.
Their talk reminds me of the negro's contro=
versy. "Me and Massa had a argument
to-day I said corn would grow best on
sandy soil, and he said so too. And there
we sputed and sputed." He, Will, just said
tell her "if I fall in battle I could not find
a better death" He had reference to him
self. I wonder why he does not write to
Laurie, I know he wants too bad enough.

I enclose you a "gem" of Southern literature, a verbatim
et literatim[10] copy of a poem found by Sergt
Moore. I is a genuine secession document.

My spare time now is employed in reading
"Pope's translation of Homer's Illiad[11]". Did you
ever read it? By the way, I received a
Tribune from you, yesterday, for which I am
a thousand times obliged. Don't you
think Carl Shurg's speech was excellent?
I read it to the boys last night. My friend,
Bob Murray says "you benefited the mess as much as Charley" in sending me the
paper. Bob is a noble boy, and will some day make a great
man or I fail to be a prophet.