Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, Charles Wright Wills, (8th Illinois Infantry)

Headquarters 7th Illinois Cavalry,

Cape Girardeau, Mo., February 19, 1862.

Aren’t things working right now? Do you notice the accounts of the old 8th, and will you say again that I got out of her ranks at the right time? I knew that the 8th would never make her colonel (God bless him!) to blush, or dishonor her friends or herself. I have seen only the St. Louis papers of 18th with very meager dispatches, but enough to know that she had the “post of honor” and plenty of fighting. Two hundred of them with Major Post are prisoners. I’ll bet my life Company E is not among them. If the Rebels will keep the major and exchange the men the regiment will gain. If I was in the 8th yet and knew what I do now I wouldn’t leave her for any commission there is in this post. I’ve got a good easy place here and have the good will of everybody around me, but my soul and sympathies are with the 8th, and it makes me sick to think what a fool I was to leave her. I’ll be shot if I don’t love that regiment more than I do the whole world beside. I never thought of it so much untill I got away. I expect some of our boys of my old mess are killed, but its all right, “military necessity,” somebody has to go under. Eight or nine boatloads of prisoners have passed here to-day. They look a little better than our Missouri prisoners but are not uniformed, although comfortably dressed.

Cape Girardeau, February 9, 1862.

I, like a good boy, wrote you a long letter yesterday, and, like a careless fellow, lost it. I told you in it how we “300” of us, left here in the p.m. of last Monday, rode all night and at daylight made a desperate charge into Bloomfield where we found and captured nothing. How a little party of 15 of our boys were surprised some eight miles beyond Bloomfield by 80 Rebels and one of them captured, one badly wounded and another’s horse shot and he at last accounts running in the swamps. How the major got together his men and went out and captured some 20 of the bushwhackers and killed five and how he returned to the Cape, etc. You have read about this riding and marching all night until I expect you hardly think of its being fatiguing and somewhat wearing on the human system, etc., but allow me to assure you that it is. Novice as I am in riding, the cold and fatigue were so severe on me that I slept like a top horseback, although I rode with the advance guard all the time and through country the like of which I hope you’ll never see. There is a swamp surrounding every hill and there are hills the whole way. Damn such a country. We passed, a small scouting party of us, the bones of seven Union men. They were all shot at one time. I didn’t go with the party to see them. One of our guards went out with a party of nine of the 17th Infantry boys and captured some 20 secesh and brought in, in a gunny sack, the bones of five other Union men. I noticed there were no skulls and asked the guide where they were. He said that “as true as truth the secesh who murdered them had taken the skulls to use for soup bowls.” I was talking with a man to-night who had his two sons shot dead in the house by his side last week. A gang of fellows came to the house while he was eating supper and fired through between the logs. He burst open the door and escaped with but one shot in him after he saw that his sons were killed. I can hardly believe that these things are realities, although my eyes and cars bear witness. In my reading I can remember no parallel either in truth or fiction for the state of things we have in this southeastern portion of Missouri. Anyone can have his taste for the marvelous, however strong, glutted by listening to our scouts and the refugees here. I thank God from my heart that dear old Illinois knows nothing of the horrors of this war. The 17th left here yesterday for Fort Henry. The boys were very glad to start. The old 8th was there with the first. I almost wish I had stayed with her. Without bragging or prejudice I am satisfied that the 8th is the best in every respect of the whole 100 regiments I have seen and has the best colonel. Colonel Kellogg is now commanding the post and Sid. is “A. A. A. General,” and I am “A Regimental Adjutant.” My duties are light, though, and I am in tip-top health. That ride didn’t hurt me at all. I can stand riding with the best of them. I suppose that Sam will be with us soon. I hope our regiment will be ordered to Kentucky. I believe I’d rather be shot there than to bushwhack around in Missouri much longer. The major and I will get along capitally. He stands fatigue equal to any of us. He and I took a ride of 30 miles alone through the swamps the other day. Send my watch the first chance you have.

Headquarters, 3d Battalion, 7th Illinois Cavalry,

February 3, 1862.

I am pretty sure that we will start on a scout to-morrow that will give us a ride of 150 miles. From the knowledge I have of it believe that we are going to raise the devil before we get back or get raised ourselves. There are only about 300 of us going, but we are all cavalry and are going fast, will make our mark and then return probably at the same gait. We are going pretty close to New Madrid, into a hot place, where a long stay would not be pleasant. I believe there are 300 or 400 men about 70 miles from here guarding commissary stores. We are going to try and surprise them and destroy the goods, kill what we can of the secesh “and get out o’ that.” It will be my first scout horseback but I’m going if it busts me. This is one of Colonel Kellogg’s ideas and looks more like work than anything I have tried yet. It’s awful rough weather to start out in but that makes it more favorable for us. Well, I have got over the hardest part of soldiering, though I doubt if I enjoy myself as well as I did in the ranks. I never in my life spent nine months more pleasantly than those I passed in the “8th.” We had some rough times, but good health and good company made them as pleasant as and often happier than life in quarters. I disliked very much to leave the boys I had been with so long and knew so well, but cupidity and ambition got the better of the just resolves I made never to leave them untill the war was over. John Wallace, Fred Norcott and my chum, Hy Johnson, I did hate to leave. They’ll get along just as well though after they have forgotten us. My chances for a lieutenancy in that company were first rate but I have got a better thing, and without so much walking. You never saw a gladder boy than Sam was when he found himself safe out of the infantry. He couldn’t begin to hold his body. I suppose he and Keefer are having very gay times all by themselves. Sidney and I concluded that our best policy was to stay here and I’m glad I did so, although I would have liked a visit home more than I can tell. If we can manage it so as to get off together some time this spring we will do so, but I have little hopes now of seeing you untill the war is over. The major (Rawalt), Seavy, Billy Resor and myself mess together. We have the wife of one of the men cooking for us and are living as well as I want to, in regular home style. White tablecloth, white ware and a fork and spoon for every man. Warm biscuits and excellent coffee every meal. My duties are light and not many of them. All writing. We live in a house, too. My health is booming again. That trip brought me out all right. This is a splendid place to camp in—high, healthy and beautiful. There are lots of pretty girls here too, that smile very sweetly on shoulder-strapped soldiers, but well, you understand me. I have Billy Stockdale, Trites, Chancey, Geo. Shinn, Jesse B. and the rest of the Canton boys in the 17th and they are all in excellent health. Chancey will be home in a few days I think. He is second lieutenant in the Fairview Company now. Billy Stockdale is sergeant major. Trites is romantic, enthusiastic and desponding as ever. Major Rawalt is one of the best officers there is in the service. He and I will get along splendidly. We are really off in the morning, and for a 200-mile march. There will be fun before we get back.

Bird’s Point, Mo., January 13, 1862.

After all the excitement and promise we have had of a trip into Dixie, we are still here in our cabins, with the prospect of a move further off than ever. The 25,000 troops that are “on their way from St. Louis to Cairo” must have went up in a fog. General Grant must have credit for fooling everybody from the reporters up. He did it beautifully. We all here at this point kept our wagons loaded for two days with five days’ rations, expecting to start every hour. The troops have all left Cairo and gone down opposite Norfolk (where we were a month) and camped. It is cold as the devil, and they must suffer a good deal as none of them have ever been out of Cairo before, and hardly know what rough soldiering is. Charley Cooper’s company is with them. I believe that the whole object of the expedish is to keep the Columbians from sending reinforcements to the Bowling Green folks. The dispatches about the 25,000 forward movement, etc., all work to the same end. Some “damb’d” hounds shot four of our 7th cavalry boys dead a couple of mornings since. It was regular murder. They were on picket and in the evening they went out some seven miles from camp and got their supper and engaged breakfast in the morning. Just before daylight they started out for breakfast and when within two miles of the place three men that were concealed behind a log by the roadside shot them all dead. Their horses wheeled and trotted back to the infantry picket. The infantry sent word to camp and some cavalry went out and found them all dead. They could find tracks of but three men, and it is supposed that they ran as quick as they fired, for our boys’ bodies were not touched. They were only armed with sabers and the 7th refuse to go on any more picket duty untill they are better armed. One of the murdered was Dan Lare, a boy that was in Canton a good while, though I believe he did not belong to Nelson’s company. The others lived near Bushnell, their names I do not know. We have the chap they took supper with. The boys all think him guilty and have tried to get him away from the guard to kill him, but unsuccessfully so far. Last night Nelson’s company went up to old Bird’s and brought him, his three sons and five other men and all Bird’s buck niggers down to camp as prisoners. They also got 10 good guns. His (Bird’s) house is four miles from camp. Some of the boys noticed a long ladder leaning against the house and one of them climbed it and got on the housetop. There he found a splendid ship spy glass with which he could count the tents and see every move in both our camp and Cairo and Fort Holt. Old Bird is a perfect old pirate and a greater does not live.

Bird’s Point, January 10, 1862.

Since daylight yesterday morning we have been all ready with five days’ rations and expecting every moment the orders to fall in and commence a march. We were delayed untill 11 a.m. to-day by a fog so dense that boats could not run even from Cairo to this point. All that time we were in the greatest suspense and after everybody had conjectured all their conjectures, we were yet perfectly in the dark in regard to our destination. All the troops here, save enough for guard duty, are going. I believe I’m within bounds when I say that 75,000 different lies have been circulated here in the last 36 hours, and all in regard to the present expedition. Well the suspense is over and we (think we) know that Columbus is our goal.

At 11 a.m. to-day the fog was dispersed by a cold north wind, and immediately two gunboats steamed down the river, giving us the first intimation of our route. They were shortly followed by other gunboats and then by steamers loaded to their utmost capacity with soldiers. All afternoon they have been going down. The last boat that I saw was towing a couple of flats loaded with ambulances, or “soldier-buggies.” I think all the troops have gone from Cairo and the boats that carried them will be back and take us at daylight to-morrow noon. I think they are landing them about six miles this side of Columbus, maybe not so far from there. General McClernand is taking his whole stock in the soldier business with him. It’s a permanent thing certain. If this really means Columbus, and I don’t see how it can be anything else, it has been managed with more secrecy than any expedition, besides, up to this time in war. I never guessed it within the possibilities of a month. These generals, we have three of them here (Grant, Paine and McClernand) may know their business, but we of the ranks don’t understand what kmd of truck 20,000 men want with the army at Columbus. And 10,000 is, I’m sure, considerably outside of the number that will move from here. There are probably 10,000 more at Paducah, that I think are also going. Well, maybe we’ll get the place, hope we will. If we don’t it won’t be the men’s fault, for we do hate that hole. It’s funny what an effect this soldiering has on men. I suppose there is no mistake about our being within two days, at farthest, of a great battle, and yet these men don’t to any eye show a sign of even a shadow of care or concern. Since I commenced this I don’t believe that one of them has given it a thought. To save my neck I can’t get up enough excitement to kill a flea or even to warn him. The boys are almost all playing cards. Sam Nutt and my chum Hy thought they didn’t get enough supper to-night, so they put about a peck of beans in to boil and have just got them in eating order. I suppose Sam can plant more beans than any other living man of his weight. They have also a lot of pig’s feet between them. Little Ame Babcock and Ike McBean are going with us to-morrow. Colonel Kellogg goes with five companies of his regiment. The Canton company does not go. I am not real well now but I wouldn’t miss this trip to Columbus to save my life. I’ve had my heart set on being at that fight a long time and I’m gong if I can walk two miles.

January 13, ’62. I wrote this letter and thought I wouldn’t send it untill we’d start and save myself a chance of being fooled, but now I’ll send it to show how badly I was misled.