Part 5

Old Jim Beauschelle, our chaplain, is out of prison and is back with us again. He was at Fort Delaware awhile, and was then sent to Johnson’s Island in Lake Erie. He looks better than I ever saw him. He has a new hat, new shoes, and everything new, and looks like a new man. He speaks very highly of the Yankees and the way they treated him and of the good fare they gave him. He seems perfectly delighted with the North and the Yankees. I am sorry they did not handle him rather roughly and cure him of his wonderfully good opinion of them.

Your brother tells me you look better than you did before you were married. He says George is badly spoiled and that he will cry if you crook your finger at him. I am sorry to hear that he has been sick. In your letter you speak of his being pale and thin from teething.

I now feel quite sure that I shall be able to get home before much longer, but don’t look for me until you see me walk in.

RETURN FROM A FURLOUGH

_Richmond, Va., December 17, 1863._

I was delayed about ten hours at Charlotte, N. C., and did not arrive in Richmond until seven o’clock this morning. The weather was very agreeable for traveling and I had no trouble with my trunks.

I ate but once out of my haversack the whole way here. My appetite was gone, for the death of our dear little George, together with parting from you in such deep grief, made me sadder than I ever felt before in all my life. The heaviest pang of sorrow came upon me when I entered the train to leave. Since my arrival here the excitement of the city has revived my spirits somewhat. I visited both houses of the Confederate Congress to-day and saw Colonel Orr and others from our State, and also the distinguished men from other States.

I have no fear that there will be any trouble about my staying over my furlough. Had I remained at home a week longer not a word would be said. I shall go on to Orange Court House to-morrow and will write you a longer letter when I reach our camp.

THE SEVERE WINTER

_Camp near Orange Court House, Va., January 3, 1864._

The cars ran off the track below Gordonsville yesterday, consequently we have no mail to-day. You do not know how anxious I am to hear from you. Your letters relieve the distress of my mind like a soothing balm placed upon a painful wound. I am sure I could forget the loss of our dearest earthly object much sooner if I could only be with you; but time will blunt the keenest thorns of anguish. I shall walk over and see your brother this evening if he does not come to see me before then. He was quite well when I last saw him, and had been busy repairing the roads.

The weather remains intensely cold, but the wind has abated somewhat to-day. I think yesterday was the coldest day I ever experienced, and it was made worse by the strong biting wind which blew incessantly. It is most severe on the wagoners and others who are out and exposed so much. When I saw the First South Carolina Regiment starting off on picket yesterday morning in the bitter cold I felt for them, but they seemed full of the life and vigor which the troops of Lee’s army always display under the most trying circumstances.

I gave my old black coat to my brother. It fits him well and he is very much pleased with it. He has been keeping a chicken and it is now nearly grown, so we intend to have a big dinner soon, and will make a pot of dumplings and also have stewed corn and Irish potatoes.

I have been living in the same tent with Dr. Tyler. We slept together and were very comfortable, but I got a tent for myself yesterday and will have a chimney built to it and be ready to move in by the time he gets back. He and I are good friends and always get along very agreeably together, but he is too fond of drinking and gambling to suit me.

News is very scarce here now, and it would be difficult for me to write you a longer letter.

SCARCITY OF FOOD.

_Camp near Orange Court House, Va., January 16, 1864._

The army is filling up with conscripts, absentees and others, and if we get also the principals of the substitutes our army will soon be very formidable. Mose Cappock has returned, although his wound has not quite healed. I believe if we whip the Yankees good again this spring they will quit in disgust. Their cause is not just, like ours, and they are sure to become discouraged more readily.

The people of Richmond have had a great time recently, feasting and fêting General Morgan. Men who saw him there tell me he is very young, handsome and attractive, but is modest and has a most pleasing address. I learned that when he passed through Newberry the people made him come out of the train and let them all take a good look at him.

An officer in our regiment was cashiered for forging a furlough, sure enough. I feel very sorry for him and think he should go to the Yankees the first chance he gets, for he is ruined wherever this thing becomes known.

The winter has been unusually severe so far, but I am perfectly comfortable in every way, except that our diet is becoming anything else but bountiful or extravagant. We draw a little coffee and sugar occasionally. For breakfast this morning I had a cup of “Pure Rio,” some ham, rice, biscuit and butter, but I have a hankering for such things as syrup, sweet potatoes, sauer-kraut, and the like. I do hope it will not be a great while before I can have such things.

Edwin still has some of the good things to eat which he brought from home in his trunk. His servant, Tony, stole some of his syrup to give to a negro girl who lives near our camp, and Ed gave him a pretty thorough thrashing for it. He says Tony is too much of a thief to suit him and he intends to send him back home. I had to give Gabriel a little thrashing this morning for “jawing” me. I hate very much to raise a violent hand against a person as old as Gabriel, although he is black and a slave. He is too slow for me, and I intend to send him back by Billie when he goes home on furlough.

I must close, as Gabriel is bringing in my dinner. I will write to you again in a few days.

A BOX FROM HOME

_Camp near Orange Court House, Va., January 30, 1864._

The weather has been fine recently and there have been some indications of a move. Yesterday we were ordered to cook one day’s rations and be ready to march, but it has turned very cold to-day and everything is quiet again.

About ten days ago I succeeded in buying some turnips and cabbage, and I found them most delightful for a change until our box from home arrived. Everything in it was in excellent condition except the sweet potatoes. It contained ten gallons of kraut, ten of molasses, forty pounds of flour, twelve of butter, one-half bushel of Irish potatoes, one-half peck of onions, about one peck of sausage, one ham, one side of bacon and some cabbage. I am expecting Edwin to visit me to-morrow and I shall offer him part of the kraut and some of the molasses, but he is so independent I am afraid he will not accept it.

I saw Colonel Hunt’s wife yesterday, and she is the first lady with whom I have conversed since my return in December. He pays ten dollars a day board for himself and wife at a house near our camp.

Dr. Tyler has had his furlough extended twenty days by the Secretary of War, and will not return before February. I have been alone for over four weeks. I have had such a quiet time that I have been reading Shakespeare some recently. I received a letter from Robert Land’s wife begging me to give her husband a sick furlough, and I told him to write her that if he could ever get sick again he certainly should go at once.

The postmaster is here and I must close.

_Camp near Orange Court House, Va., February 8, 1864._

The Yankees advanced to the Rapidan River yesterday and we were ordered off to met them. After some little fighting, they retired. It was evidently nothing more than a reconnoitering party of cavalry. To-day everything is quiet.

Billie and I are enjoying our box immensely--especially the sauer-kraut. Edwin was over again yesterday. He has been over three times this week. I am just as comfortable in every respect as I could possibly wish to be. The health and spirits of everybody seem to be excellent.

I had my hair cut to-day and I feel quite cool about the head. I am sending you the soldier’s paper which I take, and you will find it interesting. We have such a dearth of news that I do not know of one thing worth relating.

_Camp near Orange Court House, Va., April 19, 1864._

We are still in camp, but yesterday we received an order to send back all surplus baggage and be ready to move at any time. No doubt we shall soon have a very interesting time of it and the papers will then be full of news.

General Longstreet’s army is at Charlottesville. He may come here or go to the peninsula. That of course will depend on circumstances. All the news we received yesterday was very encouraging. The capture of Fort Pillow by Forrest was excellent for us. Gold is now 179 in New York, but if we whip Grant we may send it up to 300 for them.

I was glad to hear that old Jim Beauschelle was at our home. My father is decidedly hostile to the preachers who stay at home and preach to the women and old men, but I know he treated Beauschelle like a prince. If you see a certain widow, you might take the liberty of teasing her a little about old Beauschelle. She sent him some nice warm articles of clothing recently.

I have just finished my breakfast. I had corn bread, meat, molasses and coffee. Such a meal is first-rate for soldiers, but if the same were offered me at home I should feel like turning up my nose at it.

_Orange Court House, Va., May 4, 1864._

We are still in our old camp. It may be some time yet before we have a big fight, although it can’t remain off a great while, for the weather is fine and the roads are good.

Dr. Tyler leaves this morning for Richmond, and Dr. Kilgore will not come; so I am alone. I have very little to do, as there is scarcely any sickness. If we get into a battle soon I will have a tight time, but I hope to have someone with me before then.

The impression prevails that General Lee intends to act on the defensive this time. It is said that he is full of confidence. If the Yankees take Richmond it will be after they are cut to pieces. I can’t believe they can ever possibly take it with this army opposed to them.

We had a pretty shower a few evenings ago. A considerable storm accompanied it and tents were blown about, but mine stood up through it.

My servant, Alick, is making a great deal of money washing for the soldiers.

V

BATTLE OF WILDERNESS--THE “BLOODY ANGLE”--AT PETERSBURG--CHAFFIN’S BLUFF--PETERSBURG AGAIN.

BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS.

_Wilderness, May 7, 1864._

On the 5th we marched all day on the plank road from Orange Court House to this place. We got into a hard fight on the left of the road rather late in the afternoon. The fighting was desperate for two or three hours, with the least cannonading I have ever heard in a battle. I suppose this was due to the level country and the thick undergrowth. It is low, flat and entirely unfit for cultivation.

After night Major Hammond rode up to where we doctors were and told us that about two miles to the rear there was a poor Yankee who was badly wounded. He insisted that someone of us go back to help him. I went, and found him paralyzed from a shot in the back. I gave him water and morphine, and made him comfortable as best I could. The poor fellow seemed very grateful.

After I returned to our lines the order came to move back with our medical stores to Orange Court House. We marched nearly all night, but just before day we were ordered back to the Wilderness again, and we reached there soon after sunrise. Longstreet came up about this time, having made a forced march all night. Then the fighting began in earnest--continuing fearful and desperate all day. The tremendous roar of the artillery and the rattle of the musketry seemed to make the woods tremble.

Late in the afternoon of this day I went among the wounded of the Third Regiment South Carolina Volunteers and of the Yankees who had fallen into our hands. As usual on such occasions groans and cries met me from every side. I found Colonel James Nance, my old schoolmate, and Colonel Gaillard of Fairfield lying side by side in death. Near them lay Warren Peterson, with a shattered thigh-bone, and still others who were my friends. Many of the enemy were there. Not far from these was an old man, a Yankee officer, mortally wounded. I learned that he was Brigadier-General Wadsworth, once Governor of New York.

I picked up an excellent Yankee overcoat on the battlefield, but the cape is off. I will have a sack coat made of it. I also found an India rubber cloth that is big enough for four men to lie on or to make a tent of. I have never before seen a battlefield so strewn with overcoats, knapsacks, India rubber cloths and everything else soldiers carry, except at Chancellorsville. The dead Yankees are everywhere. I have never before seen woods so completely riddled with bullets. At one place the battle raged among chinquapin bushes. All the bark was knocked off and the bushes are literally torn to pieces.

Tell Bob that as soon as I draw some of the new issue I will send him the pay for your cat-skin shoes.

[NOTE.--After two days of hard fighting at the Wilderness and the same at Spottsylvania, and failing to break through the Confederate lines, General Grant decided to make one more determined effort by concentrating in front of the angle in the Confederate breastworks. About daylight on May 12 a desperate charge was made upon this angle, which was occupied by General Bradley T. Johnson of Maryland. This overwhelming charge by the enemy was too much, and the Confederates were borne down, and General Johnson and his command of four thousand men and twenty pieces of artillery were captured. General Lee was in the rear with a reserve force, consisting of McGowan’s South Carolina Brigade and some Mississippians, whom he rushed forward, and they reoccupied the angle. The Federals jumped back over the works, but did not retreat, and, after fighting all day and a greater part of the night, both sides were utterly exhausted, and ceased. A large oak standing on the works was cut down by bullets alone.]

DEFENSE OF THE BLOODY ANGLE

_Field Hospital near Spottsylvania Court House, Va., May 13, 1864._

When I wrote to you on the 7th instant I thought our fighting was over, for we had driven the Yankees off the field at the Wilderness and they had refused to attack us again; but we had another big fight with them the next day (8th instant) near this place. Then on the 10th another big fight here, and then one again yesterday that was the most terrific battle I have ever witnessed. The musketry and cannon continued from daybreak until night. Nothing that I have ever before heard compared with it. We were behind breastworks, but the Yankees charged into them in many places, fighting with the greatest determination, and it strained us to the utmost to hold our own. Such musketry I never heard before, and it continued all night, engaged with our brigade. It was perfectly fearful. I never experienced such anxiety in my life. It was an awful day, and it seemed to me as if all the “Furies of Darkness” had come together in combat. Everybody who was not firing was pale with anxiety, but our noble soldiers stood their ground, fighting with the utmost desperation.

The Yanks certainly tried their best yesterday, and they made us try our best too. It was the most desperate struggle of the war. I do not know that it is ended, but we have quiet to-day. I have not heard, but I hope the Yankees are gone and that I shall never again witness such a terrible day as yesterday was.

My brother passed through it all untouched. His company lost four killed, besides many wounded. John Landrum was killed and Scott Allen badly wounded. Mrs. Miriam Hunter’s husband is mortally wounded. General Abner Perrin was killed, Colonel Brockman lost his arm, Captain McFall his eye, and General McGowan was severely wounded in the arm. This makes the fifth time he has been wounded. You will see all about it in the papers. I saw your brother Edwin yesterday. He was well, but, like everyone else, very anxious.

I will try to write you a longer letter when my mind gets settled.

_Field Hospital near Spottsylvania Court House, Va., May 17, 1864._

I received your letter of the 3d inst. this morning. You express regret that I do not receive your letters. I do receive them regularly, but you evidently do not receive mine.

We are still in “statu quo,” the two armies confronting each other. I expect you know as much about the situation--or more--than I do, for, although we are right here, we know nothing unless we see the newspapers. I sent a telegram to Father on the 7th inst. from Orange Court House that my brother Billie had passed through the battle of the Wilderness safe.

We left there late that afternoon for Spottsylvania. I went over part of the battlefield as we were leaving, and saw that the Yankees had not taken time to bury their dead except behind their breastworks. We had no breastworks as far as I could see. In hurrying on we double-quicked much of the way. I understand that the dead are very thick on the battlefield near this place.

The weather cleared off yesterday, but it looks like rain again to-day. I never was more tired of rain. We all still have plenty to eat.

_Between Chickahominy and Pamunky Rivers, Va., June 1, 1864._

Your letters of the 24th and 26th ult. both reached me last night. The mails seem to be more regular now than for some time past.

There was not much fighting yesterday. It was only skirmishing. A few men were wounded in our brigade, only one of them being in my regiment. About an hour ago I heard heavy musketry on the extreme right of our lines, but it was far to the right of our division. We have every confidence that we shall be able to hold Richmond this summer. General Lee has an enormous army here now, and we all hope that Grant will attack us as soon as possible.

Jack Teague wrote me that Jim Spearman had been conscripted and assigned to light duty. Jack is very anxious for me to return to South Carolina as soon as possible, but it is no use to hand in a resignation at such busy times as these. I may send it in, though, whenever we get quiet again, so that it will be attended to. The longer I delay it the more apt it is to be accepted.

I was glad to know that you have the wool for my suit. I was proud of my old brown suit of last winter, but when I get a Confederate gray I shall be proud of it, sure enough. I have not drawn any money since last January, but as soon as I do I will replenish your purse. I should like so much to see your catskin shoes.

The weather is becoming quite warm. The dust is very bad and we are needing rain again. I have not seen your brother for several days, but suppose he is well. I have nothing more of importance to write at present, but will write you again to-morrow.

_Field Infirmary, near Petersburg, Va., June 24, 1864._

When I wrote to you two days ago I said appearances indicated that we were about to have a fight. Sure enough, about half an hour after I had finished writing the battle began. Our division was engaged. McGowan’s Brigade did not suffer much. It supported Wright’s Georgia Brigade of Anderson’s Division, and, as the men were not engaged, they had the privilege of lying down. Consequently most of the missiles passed over them. The brigade lost only thirty or forty, and the Thirteenth Regiment had but one killed and two wounded.

We were very successful. It is estimated that we killed and wounded about two thousand. We captured about the same number and four cannon. Our loss was about four hundred. We are still in our old position. There was heavy cannonading this morning on our extreme left. If there was any musketry, it was too far for me to hear it. Just as I began to write this letter I had two wounded men to come in. They were hurt by a shell early this morning.

I had my third mess of beans yesterday, and a big one it was too. I shall have rather a poor dinner to-day--only bread, meat and coffee. We have been getting enough coffee and sugar to have it twice a day ever since I got back from home in April.

The weather is becoming very warm and we need rain. It will soon be too hot for military operations.

When you write again tell me all the little particulars about yourself. You do not know how much it interests me.

_Near Chaffin’s Bluff, Va., July 6, 1864._

I have not written to you for several days because I knew a letter could not go South from here. In the recent raids by the Yankees they cut both the Weldon and Danville railroads. I do not know that the way is open yet, but I will write anyway.

We remained at Petersburg just two weeks and then came back here last Saturday night to relieve two brigades of Heath’s Division which were here on picket duty. We had a very pleasant time while in Petersburg. I succeeded in getting plenty of vegetables to eat. The Yankees are shelling the city, but the shells do very little harm and have killed but few. The people are not at all frightened by them. I would often see young ladies sitting on their porches reading quietly while shells were occasionally bursting near by.