Corporal Archer and the Siege of Vicksburg

Cave Life – Corporal Archer and the Siege of Vicksburg   (Book Excerpt)

     Mrs. Willis:

     After we had settled in, John and I walked outside in the warm night air. We met many friends and other folks we knew who were already there, scattered up and down on the hill. Some had been there awhile and were seemingly well-established, while the newest cave dwellers like us, were just there trying to survive.

     Many large fires on the riverbank illuminated the river to the point that we could almost see the darkened gunboats floating down with the current. Sudden gunfire would flash from the sides, followed by the loud report, and we could hear the shells exploding in various parts of town. In the darkness, I could hear the sound of horse’s hooves on the cobbled streets and soldier’s voices rising up on the riverside. It made me feel afraid to see the rapid firing from the gunboats, the return fire from the Confederate batteries, and to hear the booming sound of the shells. It was a screaming, penetrating sound as the shells would explode into the air. At least for the moment, most of the activity was happening down below us. I troubled to think what it would be like to have a shell explode so very near to us.

     All at once, I could see a boat approaching the lower batteries down below. Suddenly, shells were beginning to fall very near to us. My heart beat faster while I saw the bright flashes of light streaming from the portholes that were facing us. John grabbed my arm while he pulled me back into the cave. Lettie was already there, cowered down on the mattress.

     The cave, our shelter, was excavated into the side of the hill, and faced opposite the riverbank toward town. Presently, it was only partially dug out to the size of a small room. It was already high enough, even for John to stand fully erect, but he needed to find a shovel in order to enlarge the space to give the three of us more room. The worst part right now was the dampness of the cave since we were in constant contact with the moist dirt walls. During the next few days, we hoped to find some type of covering to shield us from the dampness.

     We remained in the cave until we heard a voice outside yelling that the danger was past. John and I returned to a spot on the hill where we were able to witness a sad, but beautiful sight. One of the transports had been hit by a shell, and it was slowly floating down the river as it burned. It looked like a floating bonfire exhibition while the blazing boat moved along the riverfront. We watched the flaming display until the fire was almost extinguished on the water. I sat there beside my son and watched the burning wreck that happened just one hour ago. I began to think how many soldiers were wounded, killed, or even drowned in this scene happening now before my eyes. I thought about the mothers and wives who prayed for their loved ones each night; young mothers who tearfully leaned over the beds of their children and babies and kissed them goodnight in the absence of their fathers. Also, I felt sad for the wives of the lost sons, fathers, and husbands who were my own age. War is a terrible thing.