April 1st.–An opportunity offers to-day to send letters to the dear ones at home. This privilege is becoming less frequent, and we fear that when we move from here, it will be even more so than now. Visited Newport News to-day. This, though a sad, was a pleasant visit. There, within a stone’s throw of our Fort and guns, stood, a hundred feet above the briny water, the graceful spars of the ill-fated frigate Cumberland, sunk by the iron-clad Merrimac. It seems impossible that this monster ship, yet untried, should venture on her first voyage out, not only in presence of our armed fleet, but under the very port-holes of one of our most powerful land batteries. I listened to many interesting anecdotes of this naval fight, or rather destruction, but I cannot record them now. I could not withstand the temptation to visit what there was of the Cumberland above water. Climbed into the rigging, and discovered at the very peak of the foremast, about one square yard of the American flag, still flying. I determined, if possible, to have a piece of it, and started on the arduous task of climbing a hundred feet to get it. By the aid of ropes, and spars, and rigging, reached the top-gallant. The flag was still fifty feet above me, and there was no way of my reaching it but by climbing that slender, smooth top-mast. I looked at the coveted relic with longing eyes–thought what a treasure it would be– looked into the ocean fifty feet beneath me–looked at a rebel gunboat which was hovering near, as a shark follows and hovers around a vessel with a cadaver ready to be thrown overboard; then I looked at myself, and came to the sage conclusion that there was another relic which wife and chil-children might value even more than they would that flag, though tattered in so noble a cause, and waving still an unimpeachable witness to the bravery and patriotism of the noble crew who went down with it, still floating aloft, they never ceasing to cheer that loved emblem, till choked by the gurgling of the water in their throats, when they sank, to cheer no more forever.
About half a mile below the Cumberland, the wreck of the Congress is just visible above the water. For want of time I did not visit it.
We have no further revelations as to the programme of the war. It looks to me, however, that the plan is, to conquer the banks of the James River, making use of it as the base of our operations till we reach Richmond.
Shall we have a fight at Richmond? I very much doubt it. If we press rapidly forward, we must reach there before the enemy can concentrate any large body of troops or make any formidable defences. They will then, I think, fall back on the Cotton States, luring us on to an enemy more formidable than then- guns–rice swamps, hot weather, and yellow fever. If we delay, however, giving them time to reinforce and fortify, it may be otherwise. So much for a guess.
My Hospital Steward has been for a month under arrest, and though I have constantly applied for the appointment of one to temporarily fill his place, it has been refused me. This has caused me much extra labor. In consequence of this I have to-day disbanded my whole hospital force, sent my sick to quarters, and refused longer to perform the duties of Hospital Steward. Shall I be arrested for insubordination? We shall see.