August 7 — We remained in camp all quiet until dark; then were ordered out toward Ruckersville, which is northwest of Barboursville. After we went about two miles it was reported that the Yanks were crossing the Rapidan five miles below us. Then we returned to camp and settled down for all night.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Library of Congress image: Edwin Chamberlain of Company G, 11th New Hampshire Infantry Regiment in sergeant’s uniform with guitar.
Donated to the Library of Congress 2010 by Tom Liljenquist; Liljenquist Family Collection of Civil War Photographs.
August 7th.
Last night, shortly after we got in bed, we were roused by loud cannonading towards Baton Rouge, and running out on the small balcony up here, saw the light of a great fire in that direction. From the constant reports, and the explosion of what seemed to be several powder magazines, we imagined it to be either the Garrison or a gunboat. Whatever it was, it was certainly a great fire. We all ran out in our nightgowns, and watched for an hour in the damp air, I without even shoes. We listened to the fight a long while, until the sound ceased, and we went back to bed.
Evening.
I am so disheartened! I have been listening with the others to a man who was telling us about Baton Rouge, until I am heartsick. He says the Yankees have been largely reinforced, and are prepared for another attack which will probably take place to morrow; that the fight was a dreadful one, we driving them in, and losing twelve hundred, to their fifteen hundred. It must have been awful! And that our troops have resolved to burn the town down, since they cannot hold it under the fire of the gunboats.
Tuscumbia, Ala., August 7, 1862.
The enemy is reported nearer us than usual to-night, and in considerable force. Have no idea they intend fighting us here though. This has been the hottest day of the summer, and I’ve been in the sun all day with thick woolen clothes on, wool shirts, too. I started for Decatur about 7 this morning and got back at 5 p.m. All platform cars, no possible chance for shade. I rode on the cowcather going out, and on the tender, which was ahead, coming back. We got within ten miles of Decatur when we came to two bridges burned last night, and had to come back. There is not a bridge or culvert on this road as far as our brigade guards it, that has not been burned, at least once, and many of the cattle guards even have been burned. They don’t fire on the trains though in this country, which is some little consolation to the traveler. Since we have been guarding the road, some two weeks, they have burned in our district four bridges, one water tank, and two station houses, and torn up rails several times. All this work is done in the night. The tank and stations were of no use to us and the bridges we can build about as fast as they can burn them, tearing down secesh houses to find the timbers ready hewn. There are some grand plantations along the line I have traveled to-day. Thousands of acres in some of them with from 50 to 250 hands, each. The negroes are under no restraint whatever, now. Don’t half work, their masters say, About 40 negro women who were clearing a piece of woodland dropped their axes and picks and came out to the road as the train passed. They were by odds the most antic and amusing lot of slaves I have yet seen. So clumsily ludicrous, with their close-curled wool, great white and black eyes, and heavy-ended motions. Some wore sun bonnets, some men’s old hats, but most were bareheaded. The negro women all wear handkerchiefs (I think they are), turban fashion, while indoors, and sun bonnets, or go bareheaded, when out. They seem to be all dressed alike, in very ragged, shabby, thick, cotton stuff, which is either white or yellow. I have never seen one of these dresses clean enough to tell which. I have seen but two negroes yet that have marks of severe punishment. They were man and wife, and belong to a planter living 12 miles from here. The man I think is made a cripple for life from blows by a club on his ankles and knees, the woman is badly cut on the arms and shoulders, as with a horsewhip, but she’s all right yet. How a man can be fool enough to so abuse such valuable property as this is more than I can understand. You have no idea to what an extent the habit of dipping is carried here. I have, while talking to women who really had in every way the appearance of being ladies, seen them spit tobacco juice, and chew their dipping sticks, perfectly at ease. I don’t think it common to do it so openly, but I have seen two ladies, and any number of common women, engaged in the delightful pastime. Colonel Kellogg seems to think that I will be mustered out in a short time. I’ll promise you one thing, that if I am, I’ll not enlist again until the policy of this war changes, and in actions as well as words, too. J. Pope is disgusting me with him very rapidly. John is a horrid blower of his own horn. If he don’t astonish this country, after all of his blowing, the country will astonish him to his entire dissatisfaction before he’s many months older. Oh! if Grant will only go to work and get somebody whipped, or if he’d retreat, that would be better than doing nothing, though not as good as advancing.
Thursday, 7th—Nothing of importance. Everything is quiet in camp. The rebels are not giving us much anxiety yet, but our officers are not napping; a strong picket is constantly kept in line.
August 7. — Thursday. — Colonel Scammon who came down with the battery and the Thirtieth Regiment, returned to Flat Top this A. M. The colonel is too nervous and fussy to be a good commander. He cut around like a hen with one chicken after getting news of our being attacked three hours or four before he started his troops. They reached the place where they camped, twelve miles from Flat Top, about 5 P. M. They would have got to the ferry, if at all, after dark. The enemy could have fought a battle and escaped before aid would have come.
Lieutenants Avery and Hastings, Sergeant Abbott, Corporal Bennett, and two privates left today on recruiting service.
7th. Watered my horse and took a good bath. Had a good visit with Newt. Adams about officers of our acquaintance and future prospects. Today, as often, I am uneasy for something to satisfy a nervous want of something real to do. Can’t be easy at anything. Commenced reading the “Woman in White,” by Wilkie Collins. Found the book quite interesting. Could hardly leave it for my meals. There seems to be no stopping place. Every paragraph, every chapter, every book is full of thrilling adventures, well laid plot. Great vigilance against surprise.
Fort Barnard, Va., Aug. 7, 1862.
Dear Mother:
My health is improving rapidly, but still they say I look like a ghost. Yesterday there was a large review (that is, for round here) at Fort Ward. I did not go in the ranks, but Jere came along from Arlington House, so I went along with him. It was terribly hot; but I stood it as well as the ones who are full of health. Reviewing officers were Abraham Lincoln, Gen’s. Whipple and Sturgis. He looked as if he had a great deal on his mind (A. L.), dressed very plain; reminded me of old Scripture look in his face. Every fort fired a salute. I expected to see Gen. Hallek, but I was dissapointed, because I went almost on purpose to see him. He was not present. How does that order for the draft take hold of the men north? It makes the boys feel good that they have got to come. The general health of the Regt. is good; but they are trying to kill the men, drilling in the hot sun six hours a day. Mother said she did not care for long letters, so I will close. Love to all.
Yours truly,
L. B., Jr.
Tuesday, 7th.—Last night Federals retreated back towards Cumberland Gap, taking most of their dead and wounded with them.
(Note: picture is of an unidentified Confederate soldier.)
August 7TH—Much incomprehensible manœuvring is going on in Orange County.
