1863 January 19 "The Palace"

The Palace
Monday morning, Jan 19, 1863
You are doomed to disappointment this
morning, my dear Ella, and I fear will
feel sad.  I have not yet heard from my
furlough, but I continue confident that it
will be granted, and the twenty days will
be precious from whatever date they may be
counted.  I have not suffered so severely
with headache the last two or three days, and
know my spirits are again buoyant. I do not
the less eagerly count the pleasure of your society
my darling; indeed, in my improved health
I would be the better qualified to enjoy it: but
the delay does not oppress my spirits, and
I look forward with the fondest hope and
gratification to the return of the application
duly approved and the delights which will
follow.  I have no alleviation of my disappoint
ment to day in the package which you sent
me to the care of Lt. Willis, and which he brought
me this morning.  I am now using the handsome

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portfolio and a sheet of the paper you sent, and
this spell of cold weather is well adopted to
heighten my appreciation of the socks knit for
me by the hands of my own dear wife.   I can
at present return you only my warmest thoughts
but when we meet may pay you in some coin
besides words.   Your sweet note accompanying
the gift, was also found by me, and read with
lively interest.   Your letter of the 12th, en-
closing the lines "All quiet along the Potomac," was
received Thursday.  Friday morning we were
surprised by an order to be ready for moving at
a moments warning.  Speculation was busy, and
rumors plentiful, about its meaning. "So perishes
the promise of furlough!"  "The Yankees are
crossing at Racoon's Ford, and we will go in
the direction of Gordonsville,"  "We are ordered
to North Ca."   "Gen Johnston has sent to Lee
for ten thousand men."  "We are certainly going
to Richmond."  These are specimens of the reports
and  conjectures.  The facts seem to be that the Yankees

[page 3]were observed to be building a corduroy road through
a marshy tract on the Rappahannock between Fred-
ericksburg and Port Royal, and we generally sus-
pected that they designed to cross the river.  As
Pendleton's artillery has moved down here from
the camp many miles in our rear, the idea
that the bluecoats may attempt another passage
of the river appears not to be abandoned. I am
slow to believe that they have any such intentions
this winter.  It is probable that this alarm has
delayed the furloughs -- mine among the rest,
because mingled with them. ---  Yesterday
the weather was too cold for public worship in
camp; the Sabbath before , the ground was too wet
and the atmosphere too humid.  Last evening I
had a mail from Rev. Mr. Linthicum and Perry
Francis.  From the letter I heard that the Carters
and other friends of ours are well.  Linthicum
has recently returned from a trip to Maryland
where his parents live, and on his return stayed
one night at Richard Henry Carter's.

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Like yourself, I feel less inclination to write a
long letter now that I am in daily hope of quitting
camp and going to my beloved.  Indeed, I ex
pect to greet you in person before you will
get this letter.  The desired paper may be
handed me this evening, and so these lines
may never be committed to the mail;  or it
may come early to morrow, and then I will
outstrip the letter.  During the last days of
the leave of absence, will we not rejoice that
it came no sooner?  God watch over us, my
darling wife, and restore us right early to
each other's embrace.  And may his eye guide
us always, and his grace enable us to be
a mutual help in piety and usefulness.
I have never learned whether Mr Bennett re-
ceived my tract.  Remember me kindly to
him and sister Edwards, and also to bro. Crue
and family.
                        Your loving husband,
                               J. C. Granbery

John Cowper Granbery,  former chaplain at the University of Virginia, and during the Civil War chaplain to several Virginia regiments.  Later became a Bishop in the Methodist Episcopal Church, South.

MSS 4492