Following the American Civil War Sesquicentennial with day by day writings of the time, currently 1863.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Headquarters 7th Illinois Cavalry Camp, on Hamburg and Corinth Road,

May 3, 1862.

I arrived here yesterday in safety. Stayed in Peoria the Monday night that I started, and was in Cairo at 9 p.m. Wednesday. Woke up Thursday morning on a boat at Paducah and devoted the day to admiring the Tennessee river. Stopped long enough at Fort Henry to get a good view of its well pummeled walls, and not-much-to-brag-of defences. The line of ditching without the works was the best I have ever seen, but the parapet, excepting that of the Fort proper, wasn’t to be compared to our works at Bird’s Point, which are the most inferior of ours that I have seen. The Tennessee runs through a perfect wilderness. There is not a landing on the river up to this point (Hamburg) that can begin with Copperas Creek, and indeed, although I watched closely, I did not see more than three or four points, that of themselves, showed they were boat landings, and those only by the grass being worn off the bank; and I did not see a warehouse on either bank unless, maybe, one at Savannah, where there are also, say four fine dwellings. At no other point did I see more than three houses, and very rarely, even one. Having heard so much of the richness of Middle Tennessee I cannot help talking so long of what ought to be, to it, what the Illinois river would be to us were we without railroads. I reached Hamburg yesterday afternoon (Friday) and started for my regiment, which I learned was five miles out on the Corinth way. I walked out as fast as I could, and reached there to hear that the army had moved on and were probably two miles ahead and yet going. I laid down and slept a couple of hours, borrowed a horse, and after six miles riding found them going into camp. Monstrous hilly country, this, and save a very few clearings, all heavily timbered. Pope’s army has been reinforced considerably since we arrived here. Think he has, say 30 odd thousand men. I think the ball opened just before I commenced this letter. For two days past we have had one batallion out about four miles beyond our present camp holding an important position. They have been within gunshot of the enemy all the time, but so protected that although they skirmished a good deal, but one of ours was wounded. In one little charge our boys made out they killed four and wounded a number of Rebels that they felt of. Pope’s infantry came up to-day in force and relieved them. Paine’s division was advanced and when not more than 40 yards beyond the post our cavalry held, were opened on first by musketry and immediately afterwards by artillery. There was very heavy firing for an half hour, but it has ceased since I commenced this page. Haven’t heard the result. We have orders to move forward to-morrow morning, but although we are so close to the enemy’s position, (not more than three miles) (Infantry, of course, I mean) don’t think our side will commence the attack before Monday morning, when we will see—sure—if they don’t run.

Supper.—Some of our boys have just come in with a lot of overcoats, trinkets, etc., spoils of the afternoon skirmish. They were all Illinois regiments that were engaged. A sergeant has just showed me an overcoat that he stripped off a dead secesh, who with eleven others was lying in one pile. He captured a captain who, after he had thrown down his sword, offered to give him a fist fight. The artillery firing was mostly from Rebel guns at Farmington at a regiment of our boys building a bridge. The Northern Mississippi line runs through our camp. We cannot be far from Iuka Springs, although no one that I’ve seen ever heard of the place. Report has just come that Mitchell has been driven out of Huntsville, and another that Yorktown and 45,000 prisoners are ours. Don’t believe either. Shall write you from Corinth if have luck.

Camp 5, Princeton, May 3. Saturday. — The Forty-fifth Regiment had marched twenty miles through the rain to reach here, were very tired and straggled badly. They were regularly stampeded, panic-stricken, and routed. They report three killed in one party of stragglers. They had a cannon drawn by six horses, but our men “yelled so” and “fired so fast” that it was no place for cannon; so they wheeled it about and fled with it All queer! Company C killed eleven, Colonel Jenifer burned Rocky Gap (four houses) and continued his flight towards Wytheville. The Rebels report us two thousand cavalry and eight thousand infantry!! Got our tents today; got into a good camp overlooking the town.

Camp No. 5, Princeton, Mercer County, Virginia,

May 2, 1862.

Dearest : — I reached yesterday this town after a hard day’s march of twenty-two miles through deep, slippery mud and a heavy rain, crossing many streams which had to be waded — one, waist-deep. The men stood it bravely and good-humoredly. Today, only twelve are reported as excused from duty. Our advance company (C), Lieutenant Bottsford in command, had a severe battle. Seventy-five of them were attacked by two hundred and forty of Jenkins’ Cavalry, now Jenifer’s, with seventy-seven of Foley’s guerrillas. The battle lasted twenty minutes, when the Rebels fled, leaving their killed and wounded on the ground. One of our men was killed outright, three mortally wounded, and seventeen others more or less severely injured. The whole regiment came up in a few moments, hearing the firing. Didn’t they cheer us? As I rode up, they saluted with a “present arms.” Several were bloody with wounds as they stood in their places; one boy limped to his post who had been hit three times. As I looked at the glow of pride in their faces, my heart choked me, I could not speak, but a boy said: “All right, Colonel, we know what you mean.” The enemy’s loss was much severer than ours.

We pushed on rapidly, hearing extravagent stories of the force waiting for us at Princeton. Prisoners, apparently candid, said we would catch it there. We would have caught Lieutenant Colonel Fitzhugh and his men, if our cavalry had had experience. I don’t report to their prejudice publicly, for they are fine fellows— gentlemen, splendidly mounted and equipped. In three months they will be capital, but their caution in the face of ambuscades is entirely too great. After trying to get them ahead, I put the Twenty-third in advance and [the] cavalry in the rear, making certainly double the speed with our footmen trudging in the mud, as was made by the horsemen on their fine steeds. We caught a few and killed a few. At the houses, the wounded Rebels would be left. As we came up, the men would rush in, when the women would beg us not to kill the prisoners or the wounded. I talked with several who were badly wounded. They all seemed grateful for kind words, which I always gave them. One fine fellow, a Captain Ward, was especially grateful.

This work continued all day; I, pushing on; they, trying to keep us back. The fact being, that General Heth had sent word that he would be in Princeton by night with a force able to hold it. As we came on to a mountain a couple of miles from Princeton, we saw that the Rebels were too late. The great clouds were rolling to the sky — they were burning the town. We hurried on, saved enough for our purposes, I think, although the best buildings were gone. The women wringing their hands and crying and begging us to protect them with the fine town in flames around us, made a scene to be remembered. This was my May-day. General Heth’s forces got within four miles; he might as well have been forty [miles away]. We are in possession, and I think can hold it.

Joe and Dr. McCurdy had a busy day. They had Secesh wounded as well as our own to look after. Dr. Neal of the Second Virginia Cavalry (five companies of which are now here in my command), a friend of Joe’s, assisted them.

Saturday morning. — I intended to send this by courier this morning, but in the press of business, sending off couriers, prisoners, and expeditions, I forgot it. Telegraph is building here. Anything happening to me will be known to you at once. It now looks as if we would find no enemy to fight.

The weather yesterday and today is perfect. The mountains are in sight from all the high grounds about here, and the air pure and exhilarating. The troubles of women who have either been burnt out by Secesh or robbed of chickens and the like by us, are the chief thing this morning. One case is funny. A spoiled fat Englishwoman, with great pride and hysterics, was left with a queer old negro woman to look after her wants. Darky now thinks she is mistress. She is sulky, won’t work, etc., etc. Mistress can’t eat pork or army diet. There is no other food here. The sight of rough men is too much for her nerves! All queer.

We are now eighty-five miles from the head of navigation in time of flood and one hundred and twenty-five in ordinary times; a good way from “America,” as the soldiers say.

“I love you so much.” Kiss the dear boys. Love to Grandma. Ever so affectionately,

Yours,

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

May 3 — Remained in camp yesterday, but renewed our march this morning over the muddiest and worst road that I ever saw or dreamed of. So far, this has been a wet, rainy spring, and the roads in general are in a bad condition. Just two days ago Jackson’s trains passed over the road that we traveled on to-day, and when his trains pass over a road they generally succeed in knocking the bottom out, especially when the weather is wet.

Our road to-day hugged the base of the Blue Ridge nearly all the way, through a brushy stretch of country, with here and there low, wet swampy places. At some points the mud was too deep in the road to venture in, and we cut saplings and brush away with our pocket knives to make sort of a roadway around the bottomless mud holes.

I know that we pried our pieces and caissons out of mud holes a dozen times to-day, and at some places we made bridges with cordwood. It may seem incredible, but twice to-day I helped to pry out with fence rails a horse that was in mud up to its shoulders. I think these deep muddy places belong to the quagmire family, as it is the deepest and softest and blackest mud I ever saw. We marched and worked hard all day, and made only six miles.

This evening we are camped one mile above Port Republic, a small village situated at the confluence of North and South Rivers which form the Shenandoah.

3d.—It is distressing to see how many persons are leaving Richmond, apprehending that it is in danger; but it will not—I know it will not—fall. It is said that the President does not fear; he will send his family away, because he thinks it is better for men, on whom the country’s weal is so dependent, to be free from private anxiety. General Johnston is falling back from Yorktown, not intending to fight within range of the enemy’s gun-boats. This makes us very anxious about Norfolk.

MAY 3D —I fear there is something in the rumor that Norfolk and Portsmouth and Yorktown and the Peninsula will be given up. The Secretaries of War and Navy are going down to Norfolk.

Saturday, 3d—We struck our tents and at 7 a. m. started in the direction of Corinth. After marching eight miles we pitched our tents for camp number 4. All of the sick boys have been sent to the hospital set up at camp number 2, which we left a few days ago. General Pope has taken Farmington, out to the left of our army. There was some very heavy cannonading this afternoon.

May 3d. A serious accident occurred this evening, resulting in wounding more than twenty men. The men were heaving up anchor when the ship swung off with the current, bringing up on the cable with such violence as to whirl the men from the bars, breaking the pawls of the capstan, and the bars throwing the men in all directions. The injuries were one dislocated shoulder, one fractured fore-arm, one do. finger, one do. skull, one do. jaw, and many jammed, bruised and bleeding.

Letter from Wm. P. Lyon to Isaac Lyon.

Camp twelve miles southwest of Hamburg, in Miss., May 3, 1862.—Here we are in the State of Mississippi, only ten miles from Corinth. The whole army is advancing slowly and surely upon that place, and in a very few days the rebels there must either fight us or run.

We moved six miles to this place day before yesterday and expect to move on still further in a day or two. The caution with which the advance is made inspires us with confidence in General Halleck. There will be no more surprise here.

We have a better, if not a larger army, than the rebels, and are better off for artillery than they are. I think the heaviest fighting will be with the artillery. I have not seen Sperry but that one time when we first arrived. He must be three or four miles from where we are.

This is a fine country to look at, but where cultivated seems worn out. The timber is light, much like our openings. On our march out here I saw corn large enough to be hoed, and cherries nearly full size. Crops, what little there are, look very poor.

We see no signs of energy, enterprise, or taste among the few people we encounter. The days are usually warm, but the nights are very cool and pleasant.

I received news today of the death at Sikeston of John H. Lowe, of Springfield. We left him there very sick.

3rd. Saturday. Ninth Wisconsin, two companies, came in. Lieutenant-Colonel Orff. Major Purington under arrest for saying that he should obey the order of Curtiss. He went to Lamar. Sent returns for six days’ rations. Played chess with Lt. Nettleton.