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

Thursday, September 11, 2014

September 11th. Marching orders came early this morning. On the backward march towards Charlestown. Go into camp on the south side of the town. A good bath in a large brook over on the east side of the town. Remain here for the night.

Sunday, 11th—This is a quiet day. I have only five boys in my ward now with one nurse. The ward is to be closed in a few days and some of the wounded out in the tents will occupy it.

Etowah Bridge, Sunday, Sept. 11. Inspection 7 A. M. after which, ——as prisoner, was marched under guard to the left of the Company, while Lieutenant Clark read the proceedings of the court-martial by which he was tried on the 1st inst. and approved by General Smith. The old charge of mutiny, committed over a year ago at Vicksburg, was brought against him, for which he was confined in military prison for five months until released by the generous McPherson. Several other frivolous charges, on all of which found guilty with one exception. Sentence—forfeit all pay and balance to become due him, confined at hard labor in some military prison for two years, after which to be dishonorably discharged. We were all saddened at the unexpected severity of the sentence of our comrade. He was immediately taken to town, where he will be taken to Nashville. G——’s is one of those rough, unyielding, profane natures, capable of much more good than the world credits them for. Officers always placing themselves against him with an iron rule, while with different treatment he might have been a pliable and good soldier, but as it was, frequently in trouble, under guard. It was the first time I ever saw his reckless spirit subdued. As he left his old comrades, large tears, of anguish rolled down his cheeks, and I could but shudder at the gathering cloud upon his brow. What terrible resolutions might be formed under that tumultuous breast. How necessary it is that the officers should understand the science of the human mind. Until then such cases will occur. Much of the day was spent sympathizing with him, etc. I wrote home. No mail.

[Miss Towne spent a part of the summer of 1864 visiting her family in the North. The following letter was written from Pennsylvania.]

Wyndhurst, September 11, 1864.

. . . Our whole party is jubilant over the nomination of McClellan and his letter, for it is the certain division of his party. Two Democratic papers in New York — one the Daily News and another a Catholic paper — have come out against McClellan. The chances for Lincoln are now great, everybody says, and the good news from all sides makes everybody jubilant. But Grant is terribly threatened. . . .

I have seen the members of the Committee, and the whole of them in session several times. They sent Mr. McKim to Washington to remonstrate about the transportation, and he convinced Stanton that teachers ought not to pay it, so we are to be sent free again. . . .

Chesapeake Hospital,
September 11, 1864.

Dear Sister L.:—

I received a letter to-day from Captain Dickey dated “In the trenches before Petersburg. September 7th.” He says the regiment is forty-eight hours in the outer line and forty-eight off alternately. It is certain death to show a head above the works. Some one is killed almost every day. Captain Walker, a particular friend of mine in the Seventh, was killed by the sharpshooters a few days since. We have lost one killed and four wounded in our company. It is a pleasant thing to have the respect and good will of your comrades. I will give you an extract from the captain’s letter. After speaking of Lieutenant Thompson’s being detached as Ordnance Officer, he says: “So you see, I am all alone, and a sweet time I’ve had of it, making muster rolls (they were finished an hour since), monthly returns, etc., with my books and papers all locked up in Norfolk. Hasn’t it been a delightful job? But with you matters seem less promising. I am sorry to hear you improve so slowly. Seems to me a milder treatment would be better, but a man in the doctor’s hands must follow prescriptions. But keep a cheerful tone of mind. There is no necessity for you to fret or worry the least about your duties here. You have the sympathy of all the officers. No one intimates that Norton is ‘playing off.’ No one intimates but that you did your duty and your whole duty. On the contrary, many are of the opinion, and among them your humble servant, that it would have been better for you if you had left your post sooner. You ought to have done it, and yet I know very well how you felt. I know one is loth to leave his command during active operations, and is perhaps as unwilling to trust his judgment then as under any imaginable circumstances. I have no doubt you felt unfit for duty long before you left it. Norton reasoning with Norton, thought himself sick, but declared he wouldn’t be sick. Felt that he ought to be excused, but resolved not to be excused.”

The captain is nearly or quite right in that last remark. Still, where so many “play off,” a man’s character is worth a good deal, and I am not very sorry I did not give up immediately, though it might have been better for my health. I think I am on the gain slowly.

I was writing to H. on the morning of the 7th, when I had an interruption. It came in the shape of one of Uncle Samuel’s rebellion smashers, called for short “E.” He was on his way home, and while the boat stopped at the fort for coal he came up here to see me. I was “tolable” glad to see him. He looked quite like a “vet.”—a little thin and very dirty, perfectly soldierly. He says Phillips will give him $600 a year to come back in his store, and it’s my opinion he will accept that as quickly as the good Lord and his parents will let him get to Toledo. If P. backs out he won’t lack employment. Barker, of Ketchum & Barker, spoke to him of coming into his store again, but I think Mr. P. will be glad to get him.

Sunday, September 11. — Day close. Can’t help feeling homesick Sundays.

Sept. 11th: During this time we have been laying in the same camp, the Artillery firing on our right. It has gotten to be an old thing.

Colonel Lyon’s Letters.

Sept. 11, 1864.—I will write again from force of habit, for the cars do not yet run to Nashville and two letters that I have written to you still lie in the postoffice at this place. We learn that the railroads are nearly repaired. General Granger has not yet returned to Huntsville, and I am tied up here until he does return; then I propose to make an inspection tour to Stevenson and back, and an expedition southeast towards Claysville, to clear the country of guerillas.

Quite a number of the men are sick with chills and fever, caused by malaria. Captain Norcross and Dr. Horton went to Nashville just before the raid and have not been able to get back. I have sent Captain Kingman to Whitesburg with a detachment of seventy-five men taken from all of the companies. It is a sickly hole and I intend to change the men there as often as once a week. Company C, with the band and a lot of convalescents, is still at Claysville Landing. I have not heard from them for several days. I have no fears for their safety. They are strongly fortified and the gunboats are frequently there.

I told you in my last of an attack made on Company F. It was a mistake. The attack was made on a company of home guards, about a mile from the train— one killed and one wounded on each side, and ten of the guards (who are loyal men) captured. They were surprised by guerrillas.

It is a paradise here, where the rude hand of war has not desolated it. Huntsville is a beautiful town. Before the war there was much wealth in it, and it was the pride of the South. The city has not been torn up much, but the country about is devastated.

General Granger, I hear, is expected tonight.

11th. Sunday. Spent the day quietly in camp. Read papers and “Lady of the Lake.”

by John Beauchamp Jones

            SEPTEMBER 11TH.—Showery.

            No war news, though important events are looked for speedily. It is time. If our coat-tails were off, we should, in nine cases out of ten, be voted a nation of sans cullottes. We are already meager and emaciated. Yet I believe there is abundance of clothing and food, held by the extortioners. The government should wage war upon the speculators—enemies as mischievous as the Yankees.