February 13.
I have nothing more than the usual “all right” to tell you, but you must always have that. We ought to congratulate each other on the good news from Roanoke Island and Tennessee, which quite thrilled us all yesterday. We were out at Will Winthrop’s camp when the boys cried the “Star” and the victory, and we heard the particulars first from Mrs. Captain Rodgers, who came here directly from Mrs. General McClellan’s. Mrs. McClellan described to her, her husband’s delight when the news came. He flung his arms over his head, and, fairly radiant with glee, pronounced himself the happiest man in Washington, “and the General, you know,” his wife says, “is such a quiet man usually. I have seldom seen him more excited.” . . .
We managed to get out to Will Winthrop’s camp yesterday without an upset, but (so Mother thought) at the peril of our lives! What will she say to the Virginia roads on the way to your camp? She is overwhelmed with pity for the poor men and officers. When we left, Will tramped some distance through the mud to show us a better way out, and we were immensely entertained at his manifesting his tongue in his cheek (behind Mother’s back) when he found the road worse than he thought, remarking, “Why! this is quite a godsend. I had no idea of finding such a good highway.”
. . . This morning George Carr has been out on horseback to take Will some cake and candy from Mother, to make up for a well meant but bad cake we took him when we went ourselves.
. . . We hear New York is overflowing with cheers and jubilees for the victories, and in Philadelphia the celebration was the best of all, for they took steps at once to raise a fund for the orphans of the soldiers killed in that battle and to found a “Soldiers’ Home” for all maimed and helpless volunteers when the war is over.