In recognition of the 150th anniversary of the Civil War, I hope to chronicle the daily life of my great-great grandfather, William Fleming. He served with the 130th Illinois Infantry. I also have a great-great grandfather, William Henry Ellis, who served with the North Carolina Cavalry. Unfortunately, I do not have much information about his service, but perhaps I'll mix in some of his story in when time allows.
Tuesday, February 17, 1863
In the middle of February Charles Johnson witnessed the destruction of Hopedale, Arkansas, apparently from the comfort of a rocking chair.
Sitting on the upper front porch one day and looking toward the river, not many rods away, two or three gunboats were seen to approach the little village of Hopedale, just opposite Memphis, on the Arkansas shore; they did not land, but pretty soon turned away and took position in the middle of the river, from which point a number of shells were thrown into the village and soon Hopedale was in flames. It seemed this place had been a sort of rallying point for guerillas, bushwhackers and other irregular Confederate soldiers and to stop their incursions Hopedale had been ordered burned, after, of course, first warning the inhabitants.