1862-07-31_Letter-A_Alvord-to-MyDear-Duplicate

City Point July 31, 1862

My Dears

You see I date to day from Rebeldom. We have come up here, under a flag of truce for our wounded — & the rebels are all around us. As we approached the wharf, about 8 miles from Harrisons Landing we were received by a similar flag of theirs — so that we are quite safe. A Telegram has been dispatched to Richmond for the train to come down & now we are waiting for them. It rains and grows duskish and probably we shall be obliged to wait until morning. There are^We have^ three steamers of us^& are^ hoping to obtain enough to fill them all. This City Point, has been shelled, & partially destroyed, by our Gun Boats looking very desolate &. the secesh glowering at us from the shore ^make^— us feel this evening a good way from home. Only nurses will be per-

[on side of page] Yours aff signed J. W. A.

-mitted to land, & these must wear white badges around their arms, so that many of us are prisoners. What a great mercy it is that our poor fellows can get off in this way. We expect them in dreadful condition, & the doctors say it will be many hours before they can be properly cleaned & their wounds dressed — but all this only enhances the boon of their deliverance. Day before yesterday M^r Eddy was brought down — will they not rejoice in Winsted? I could not see him but believe he is in good health. Morning — no prisoners came during the night & here we are very quiet though there was much firing about midnight below us, which we could not understand — probably some attack upon our working parties at Harrisons Landing.

The great black war vessels on the river, & the gloomy looking secesh ^rebel^ country around us bounds our vision,

on the outer edge of the blackened wharf, paces the rebel guard & on the inner edge (near the boat) our own. They eye each other savagely as they tramp back & forth but dont speak, nothing but that ^little^ white ^rag^ ^fluttering in its intrinsic fullness^ keeps them from blowing each others brains out. What a strange sad thing war is. These flag of truce boats do not expect to come up again, as some earnest military movement is on foot.

I have Mr Broughtons last letters saying that quite a number of boxes are to be received. How do you expect me to come home to help in making collections for reading matter, when these sanitary articles are still consigned to me. You are joking, I presume, about my coming. These things will all be lost if I leave, as no one sees to any thing here but their own. I am sure you would all be ashamed of me if I should come now. When every body

else is at least trying to leave. I dont sympathise with the discouragement which you seem to feel. Matters will go ahead—^you^ may be very sure for God is with us. His chastenings indeed are sure — but none too much so.

The nation must be prepared for the blessing before it comes. Godless now it must be brought to penitence & firm trust in the Almighty. It needs to mourn its sins—Its slavery is to be uprooted, & for this the ploughshare must go even deeper down^as^ I think then it yet has gone. Let me hear from you oftener. Tell them at the Office to plunge their hands into every bodies pockets. What are these new troops to do without the gospel? & the old army, having lost all they had, are now crying piteously for resupplies. All ^articles you may^ send will be timely though the suffering now is less intense than it was — the new troops will all be more or less affected by this climate and need much care

Can you send tonics? Mild preparations of quinine—as Atwood tonic bitters &c