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

August 2014

Richland Jail, Columbia, S. C., Aug. 11, 1864.

Dear Father, — Charlie Amory is here with us. He is well and unwounded. He was captured with General Bartlett. Ile is in our mess, which consists of Colonel Marshall, 14th N. Y. A., Colonel White, 31st Maine, and Lieutenant Colonel Buffum, 4th R. I., all of whom were captured the same time I was. When the enemy charged us on the 30th ult. I was in the second line with my regiment. We were so closely packed in the rifle-pit that I could not move an inch, nor could my men fire a shot. The enemy carried the first line and for some time amused themselves by shooting at the crowd I was in. I was luckily not wounded.

We are very kindly treated indeed, and I am not at all troubled except by certain little animals, which inhabit beds, and give out an unpleasant perfume when killed. They are especially fond of me.

Please send me a 20-pound sterling bill of exchange, payable to my order. I think you can send it through Major Anderson or Major General Foster, commanding at Hilton Head. If not, you can send it via Fortress Monroe. Try and get a small box through to me containing 2 shirts, 2 pairs drawers, 2 pairs stockings, and a small box of mercurial ointment. Also 6 packs cards, some needles and thread and buttons, etc., and anything else you can think of. Address me Prisoner of War, Columbia, S. C. . . . Am in good health.

Captain Fay is here, well. Sergeant Ford was also taken prisoner, unhurt.

Thursday, August 11. —We had quite a shower to-day. Usual routine gone through with. We wake up at 6 A.M., and go out into the yard for half an hour, where we wash ourselves, etc. Have a good supply of water luckily, from a hydrant. We then go back to our rooms and have an inspection of our clothing, which takes a good hour. About nine o’clock we have breakfast. At ten we are let out into the yard for an hour. Then we have until three o’clock to read, loaf, and enjoy prison life. At three we dine, and at four are let out again for an hour. In the evening we play whist, etc., and retire when we feel like it.

August 11, 1864.

We have lost 35 men since Colonel Wright left us. There has been a tall artillery fight this p.m. right here, but as usual no one hurt.

Etowah Bridge, Thursday, Aug. 11. Slept most of the afternoon after coming off guard. Trains of wounded came from the front, one of them stopped on switch. Had a long talk with the wounded. They belong to the Army of Tennessee. Severely wounded on the 22nd ult., the day our loved leader fell, of whom they speak most feelingly. Cheerful, in hopes of seeing home soon. One little drummer boy lost his right arm. Helped him out of the car. Young and beautiful, crippled for life, yet very light-hearted, buoyed up by knowing that he lost it in a good cause. Rumor that we are soon to go to the front.

Colonel Lyon’s Letters.

Claysville, Ala., Thurs., Aug. 11, 1864.—I have just got back from my trip, tired but well. I stayed three nights at Huntsville, one at Whitesburg with Colonel Chapman, and last night with Company G at Law’s Landing. I saw Captain Woodman, Captain Norcross, Dr. Smith, Lieutenants Brown, Wemple, Dutton and Murray, who is sick in Huntsville.

I suppose there is a good deal of squirming about the coming draft, and I really sympathize with many of those who will be drawn, for I know from the experience of these long, weary, anxious years what a terrible thing it is to be separated from wife, children and home, and to be surrounded by peril, suffering and death for so long a time; yet I do not know that it is any harder for them than it is for those who are already in the service. Besides, this draft is only for a year. Efforts are being made to get negroes here to fill the quotas of some localities, but without much success. The soldiers are strongly opposed to it and throw every obstacle in the way of the recruiting agents.

by John Beauchamp Jones

            AUGUST 11TH.—Hot and dry.

            Dispatches from secret agents atWashington state that Grant and his staff have arrived, that half his army preceded him, and the remainder will soon follow. The campaign is considered a disastrous failure, and it is anticipated that henceforth the scene of operations is to be transferred fromRichmond toWashington. They say President Lincoln’s face expresses “great terror,” and affairs there are in a critical condition.

            A dispatch from Gen. Lee states that Gen. Bradley Johnson’s brigade of cavalry was surprised and routed on the 7th inst. by Averill. He has directed that Gen. J. be relieved.

            A dispatch from Gen. Hood (Atlanta,Ga.) says no important change in affair has occurred since yesterday, except that Major-Gen. Bates is wounded. There are 5000 militia in the trenches.

August 11th, 1864.—Communication is established once more and Oh, the horrible, horrible news that has come to us! Capers’ Battalion reached Petersburg just in time for that terrible explosion and a part of his command were blown to atoms. Frank Baker is killed and so is my little new cousin. Mr. Kellar will never sing for us again. When he said goodbye and we told him we hoped to have him back before long and hear his sweet songs again, he said, “If I don’t come back I’ll join the Choir as soon as I get to Heaven and I’ll sing for you there.”

It is heart-rending to think of death and destruction, bodily destruction, for those young boys, who were so thoroughly alive, who were looking forward to a speedy return home and the home folks who were waiting for them. Oh, it is dreadful!

10th. Wednesday. Had charge of the dock and disembarking of troops at the wharf. Rode to town near evening.

August 10th.—To-day General Chesnut and his staff departed. His troops are ordered to look after the mountain passes beyond Greenville on the North Carolina and Tennessee quarter.

Misery upon misery. Mobile[1] is going as New Orleans went. Those Western men have not held their towns as we held and hold Charleston, or as the Virginians hold Richmond. And they call us a “frill-shirt, silk-stocking chivalry,” or “a set of dandy Miss Nancys.” They fight desperately in their bloody street brawls, but we bear privation and discipline best.


[1] The battle of Mobile Bay, won under Farragut, was fought on August 5, 1864.

Wednesday, 10th—No news from the front. The sick in my ward are all getting along well, with the exception of two men who are suffering severely with inflammatory rheumatism. Some of the men are returning to the front, while others are going home on furloughs.