Aug. 29th. Nothing of importance here. Geo. B. McClellan nominated Candidate for the Chicago Convention. Platform, purely “Peace on any terms.”
August 2014
August 29th. Called up very early this morning after a quiet night. We are about four miles south of Charlestown. Heavy cannonading in the direction of Winchester, which lies about ten miles southwest of Charlestown. All is quiet with us as we rest and sleep. Rations are good and plenty. Consist of hardtack, pork, coffee, sugar. Report reaches us that our boys are in possession of Winchester. Weather fine. Taking life easy in these woods.
Colonel Lyon’s Letters.
Claysville, Ala,, Sun., Aug. 29, 1864.—I have ridden fifteen miles today. I am now with Company C at our landing, waiting the return of a gunboat that passed down the river this morninig convoying a steamer loaded with supplies for the regiment.
There is undoubtedly quite a large rebel force on the other side of the river a few miles back in the country. I hear they intend to try to cross the river. I think the gunboats and the 13th together can prevent them from doing it, and if the gunboats are not here when they attempt it, the 13th will try to do it alone. The river is high now and they can only cross in boats, which I understand they are building for the purpose. It is quite possible that we shall have a brush with them, and if we do—there is so much solicitude felt about our ability to hold this line—you will hear all sorts of exaggerated reports from us through the papers before we can get any news to you. Pay no attention to these reports unless they are favorable; and if you hear direct from us, which will be as speedily as possible after anything of interest transpires, I will keep you posted as to our situation, as I always have done.
On Thursday last a party of rebels came opposite Law’s Landing and fired at Company G, stationed there. Lieut. Balis sent over a party of men soon after, who came up to the rear guard of the rebels and killed two of them. A woman wanted to cross there and our boys had promised to bring her over. She had gone down to call them across the river, when the rebels first made their appearance, secreting themselves so that our men could not see them, and insisted that she should call our boys over, in which case they could easily be captured or killed; but she absolutely refused to do so, and no entreaties or threats could shake her resolution. She sat down and told them that they might kill her as quick as they pleased, but she would not, even for the sake of her life, do so base an act. They then commenced firing. The party from Company G brought her back with them. I have not seen her. She is a Union woman and a heroine.
On Thursday night Captain Blake, who is located ten miles down the river, got information that a force was intending to cross that night near his post. I put the whole line in the best possible shape for defense and went to Deposit, where Company I is stationed. I was up nearly all night making arrangements to meet the attack, and in the morning went down to Captain Blake’s. No demonstration was made on us, however, and I returned to headquarters on Friday afternoon. While the enemy is in our immediate front I expect but little bodily or mental rest.
by John Beauchamp Jones
AUGUST 29TH.—Bright and pleasant morning; another fine shower last night.
No important intelligence from the armies.
AUGUST 29, 1864.
Gentlemen Of The Convention,—We are assembled here to-day as the National Democratic Convention, for the purpose of nominating candidates for the Presidency and Vice-Presidency of the United States. This task, at all times a most important and arduous one, has, by the sad events of our civil war, assumed an importance and responsibility of the most fearful nature. Never, since the formation of our government, has there been an assemblage, the proceedings of which were fraught with more momentous and vital results than those which must flow from your action.
Toward you, gentlemen, are directed at this moment the anxious fears and doubts, not only of millions of American citizens, but also of every lover of civil liberty throughout the world. In your hands rests, under the ruling of an all-wise Providence, the future of this Republic. Four years of misrule, by a sectional, fanatical, and corrupt party, have brought our country to the very verge of ruin. The past and present are sufficient warnings of the disastrous consequences which would befall us if Mr. Lincoln’s re-election should be made possible by our want of patriotism and unity. The inevitable results of such a calamity must be the utter disintegration of our whole political and social system amidst bloodshed and anarchy, with the great problems of liberal progress and self-government jeoparded for generations to come.
The American people have at last awakened to the conviction that a change of policy and administration can alone stay our downward course; and they will rush to the support of your candidate and platform, provided you will offer to their suffrage a tried patriot, who has proved his devotion to the Union and the Constitution, and provided that you pledge him and yourselves to maintain that hallowed inheritance by every effort and sacrifice in your power.
Let us, at the very outset of our proceedings, bear in mind that the dissensions of the last Democratic Convention were one of the principal causes which gave the reins of government into the hands of our opponents; and let us beware not to fall again into the same fatal error. We must bring to the altar of our country the sacrifice of our prejudices, opinions, and convictions—however dear and long cherished they may be—from the moment they threaten the harmony and unity of action so indispensable to our success. We are here, not as war Democrats, nor as peace Democrats, but as citizens of the great Republic, which we will strive to bring back to its former greatness and prosperity, without one single star taken from the brilliant constellation that once encircled its youthful brow. Let pure and disinterested patriotism, tempered by moderation and forbearance, preside over our deliberations, and, under the blessings of the Almighty, the sacred cause of the Union, the Constitution, and the Laws must prevail against fanaticism and treason.
28th. Sunday. Reveille at 2 A. M. Breakfasted and were on the road at daylight. Our Brig. in advance. Passed through S. Rebels in retreat. Overtook the infantry on Jamestown road. Camped at C.
August 28.—We have become a little settled, and think we shall like the place very well. I never had such a nice kitchen.
Dr. Wellford has been here. He was ordered away from Newnan, as the enemy were expected. He brought word that our patients were doing pretty well; a few of them had gone to their long homes. He has been sent back, as it was a false alarm, Mini thoro aro many wounded there yet.
Dr. Reesse has returned from the front. He is very sanguine of our success; says that the Yankee pickets exchange tobacco and newspapers with ours, and have told them that Sherman is nearly exhausted, and will have to give up soon.
I should like to believe this, but am afraid it is too good to be true. I see by the papers that we have had a great deal of fighting in Missouri and Kentucky.
Lieutenant Haskill of Garrety’s battery was killed on the 7th. He is much regretted.
We have quite a number of sick. The ladies of the place have called on us, and seem very anxious to assist us. I am very glad of this, as we have little or nothing of our own to give the patients. The paymaster has not been around lately; so Dr. H., like all here, is entirely out of funds.
This is said to be a very wealthy place; and were we to judge from the carriages and fine horses we see, I should think the impressing officer had not been down this way for some time.
Sunday, 28th—No news. All things quiet. Rome, Georgia.
Chesapeake Hospital,
Sunday, August 28, 1864.
My Dear Sister L.:—
I have passed the week mostly on my bed—been out of the house but once. That was yesterday, when I went down to the fort (in the cars) and that little exertion was almost too much for me. I am very comfortably sick— have no pain except an occasional headache, but spend most of my time quietly, feeling a great aversion to the least exertion.
My bed is a little iron cot with a mattress on it, my table a light stand. I draw it up beside the bed and write my letters and then lie back and read or sleep. Three times a day my tormentor comes with quinine and whisky disguised as “tonic solution,” and soon after come preparations for a meal from the “low diet kitchen.” This is managed in a way called in military parlance “by detail,” e. g., first installment for dinner (after the “tonic solution”) 10 a. m., nurse with cup and saucer. Then at intervals of half an hour the following articles—10:30, knife, fork and spoon; 11, milk, cup and mug, with one spoonful of sugar; 11:30, teapot and plate of corn starch (good); 12 m., plate with leathery toast, dab of butter, boiled beef and a slice of beet or dried sweet potato. Regularity and system are indispensable in hospitals, so this routine is never departed from, and it is just two hours every time from the arrival of the cup and saucer to “Ready. Sir,” the signal to fall to. I assure you there is no waste of food among the low diet patients. I always take all the sugar to make out. I do not seem to gain strength at all. In fact, I lose strength every day, but I hope to improve soon.
We have a new surgeon—came this morning. The one that left yesterday was a very nice man, and this one seems a good man too, as well as I could judge by ten minutes’ talk.
I used to say that if I ever got in a hospital I should want to get home. So I do now, and I expect—to want. No use in trying that here. But as soon as I am able to travel, I mean to apply to be sent to Annapolis on light duty and from there I think I can get home. I have lost twenty pounds of flesh and I do not intend to go to the field again till I regain that and my full strength. It would be useless and might result in a more serious fit of sickness.
E. had not got home when Father wrote, and I have not heard a word from him since he passed me on his way north. I am not uneasy about him though.
I had a letter from D. F. a day or two since. He said nothing about Etta, but Lizzie and the baby had gone to Maine, so I have strong doubts about your seeing anything of Etta this summer. I wrote to D. to send you “Very Hard Cash” as my birthday present. If you have read it, it will be rather mal apropos, won’t it? I do not think you have, as it has not been out long and novelties don’t find their way out there very fast. You will, if I am not mistaken, find it one of the most absorbing stories you ever read. It is made up almost wholly of impossibles. For instance, his heroine, Julia, is one never seen except in a novel, but she is only an exaggeration of many sweet and lovely women. His best character, I think, is David Dodd, the nearest approach to a possible. Dr. Sampson is well drawn and an original person. I could not succeed in appreciating the saintliness with which he finished Jane Hardie. Her brother’s comments on her diary seemed to me too just, and his motto for the diary might as well apply to her life; “Ego et Deus meus,” or I and my God.
But the lesson of the story is a good one, and the consummate skill with which it is wrought out makes one jealous of the author for being an Englishman. Why have we no one on this side the water to write an American story like that? In one thing he fails. In impossibles he is better than Dickens, but when he caricatures Yankees and negroes, he shows an ignorance of the originals. Vespasian is his poorest impossible, and Fullalove is not much better. But enough of this. When you have read it, tell me how you like it and how you like my comments.
From the front the news is always encouraging. Lee has been making desperate efforts to regain the Weldon railroad and so far without success, and every day lessens his prospects of success. He is reported to have said he must have it if it took every rebel soldier. He is welcome to it at that price. Sherman is waiting for Farragut to take Mobile or draw off a part of Hood’s force to defend it, and things seem to be almost at a deadlock all round.
Etowah Bridge, Sunday, Aug. 28. Health very good. Usual inspection at 7 A. M. On guard, third relief. Very hot in the middle of the day. Sergeant Dixon with a squad of ten men went out on pass. Returned 4 P. M. with a sack of ripe grapes from the vineyard, and a lot of butter, for which we traded our coffee rations. Drink cold water altogether. Came off guard at 9 P. M. to find two long letters from home which did me much good to read, but was surprised to find them in great alarm over my reported illness in Spring Green. All humbug. Why will they not rely upon my own letters? Sister Hannah off to Albion again. Ellen teaching, Jenn with the boys going to school. How different are my duties from those of Thomas.
