Chapter IV: Part 4

The newspapers of the day said that the appointment of General Howard was the work of President Lincoln. But it was reported in the Corps, that General Sherman had been the prime mover. It was freely whispered among us that Sherman, with all his great talents and acknowledged ability, was affected with the same weakness that was said to have troubled Napoleon--the not being able to look with complacency on the great personal popularity of a subordinate. Sherman was reported to have allowed this feeling to break forth into positive insult of General Hooker and his Corps in the presence of subordinates. For instance, on the night after the battle of Peach Tree Creek, before any returns of casualties had been made, Hooker told Sherman that he had lost that day nearly 2,000 men. "Oh pshaw!" answered Sherman, "that's nothing; they'll all be back in the morning." Later it was found that 1,700 members of the Corps had been killed or wounded, and that they had successfully repulsed the whole Confederate army with a reported loss to the latter of 6,000.

Before leaving, General Hooker invited all the colonels in the Corps to call on him, and told them frankly his reasons for resigning. He said that during the whole campaign he had been subjected to unbearable insults and indignities, and his Corps and its performances had been underrated and disparaged. And now, to have promoted over him a junior officer from this Department, whose rank and service were far below his, was the last straw; his reputation as a soldier and his honor as a man would not, he said, admit of his remaining.

The enemy's picket line had been temporarily quieted by the advance of the Thirteenth New Jersey, but was now again annoying us. These pickets were on a ridge about two hundred yards in front of their main line of works, and not more than four hundred yards from our camp. They had lines of pits dug all along their position and could at any time communicate with their main line. Our pickets were also located in pits, but could only be relieved at night. It was determined to reverse this order of things. So at daylight on July 30, at a preconcerted signal, our whole Brigade picket line, under command of Lieutenant-Colonel Morse of the Second Massachusetts, jumped out of their pits, crossed the intervening space at a run, and captured the enemy's entire line, numbering seven officers and ninety-seven men.

A regiment was immediately sent out to reenforce our men, and breastworks were hastily thrown up. From their forts and main breastworks, the enemy poured into us a shower of shot and shell; but our men held their position all day, many of them firing as much as two hundred rounds of ammunition. At night the position was made impregnable against anything save a movement in large force; and in the morning the enemy were compelled to withdraw their artillery and close the embrasures of their forts.

For some weeks there was not much change in the situation, so far as we were concerned. There was much hard work for the men in the trenches, and they were all getting anxious for the capture of Atlanta. I believe nine-tenths of them would rather have fought the matter out in an open battle than to have kept on scraping and shoveling to dig them out. It seemed to us at the time that between our army and that of the Confederates, there had been enough dirt dug, from Louisville to Atlanta, to have built all the railroads in the United States.

For a time in our advanced position, firing on the picket line was constant, and there were many casualties. In a week or two, however, a sort of truce was established, and firing ceased. Just before I had rejoined my Regiment on the Chattahoochee, our pickets had been quite friendly with the pickets of the enemy. They had traded coffee for tobacco, and had offered to take letters and send them to Union prisoners in their hands. I should at this time have liked to send a letter to my brother. But now they would not go as far as that; nothing would induce them to meet us between the picket lines for trading; to all our advances they replied that their orders forbade them to do so.

On August 25 important changes were made in the disposition of our troops. Our Corps was withdrawn from before Atlanta and moved back to the Chattahoochee River. The rest of the army was moved around to the south of Atlanta, temporarily abandoning its communications; this was in order, by threatening his flank, to compel Hood to come out of his works and fight us in the open.

Throughout that day our heavy guns poured a constant stream of shot and shell into the city. As soon as darkness had settled down on the camps, we silently folded our tents and moved back. I had been on picket duty that night; it was still and clear, and the slightest sound could be heard at a great distance. As I passed along the picket line, from man to man, and gave them the word to follow instructions--which were for each man, as I passed him, to leave his post and go back silently to the rear--I could hear the Confederates changing their relief just a little in my front. In one case I heard the old sentinel tell the new one to "keep a sharp watch on those Yanks over there," for they were up to something and he believed they were going to attack.

At the railroad bridge over the Chattahoochee, where we took position, earthworks had already been built. We strengthened them and built new ones, so that by the night of the 26th we were in condition to fight the whole of Hood's army. Hood was, however, too busy south of Atlanta, where Sherman now was, to trouble us; and we had several days of complete quiet. It was a great relief, after our experiences in the trenches, to be able to walk around without hearing the bullets whistle about our ears. Not the least of our enjoyment was, to have a good river close at hand to bathe in.

During our stay here, General Slocum arrived and took command of the Corps. When he made his first tour around the camp, he was given a royal reception by his old command. They had all been anxious to have as their leader someone who had been identified with them in the Army of the Potomac. With that army they had won their laurels, and they wished still to be known as a part of it.

Slocum was a very different type of man from Hooker. The latter was brilliant and dashing, and in the excitement of battle his ardor and personal courage carried him where the fire was hottest. Slocum, on the contrary, reminded one of the descriptions of Marlborough. Cool and unimpassioned he directed a battle as he would a review. Without particularly avoiding danger, he would not rush recklessly into it. Hooker was an inveterate boaster. Slocum usually said nothing. I think most men would have considered Hooker the better leader, and Slocum the better man.

Late on the night of September 1, while I was on picket duty, I heard in the direction of Atlanta what I at first thought was artillery. The rumbling kept increasing in intensity until it seemed like the heaviest firing I had ever heard. Finally, a number of terrific explosions lit up the air. At six miles distance they seemed like bright flashes of lightning. I knew then that the enemy were blowing up their powder magazines. I supposed, however, that Sherman was fighting his way into Atlanta from the south.

At daylight a reconnoitering party was sent out toward the city. They found it evacuated, except for a small rear guard of cavalry which was soon driven out. The remainder of the Corps moved up in the afternoon, our Regiment reaching the city at about dark. Sherman's flanking movement had been completely successful. He had met Hood on the Macon Railroad, near Jonesboro, and had beaten him terribly. The Confederate commander had been obliged to evacuate Atlanta at once, blowing up eighty cars of ammunition which had been cut off by the capture of the railroad at Jonesboro. He had been compelled to destroy, also, the large rolling mill of the city, which was said to have been the only mill in the South where plating for gunboats could be manufactured.

We found more Union sentiment in Atlanta than anywhere else in the South. As our Brigade entered the city, at about nine o'clock at night, many of the women brought out buckets of water for us to drink. They were very bitter against Hood's army, which they said had robbed them of everything that could be carried off, with the excuse that the Yankees would steal it anyway. They were agreeably disappointed to find that the Yankees did not rob them of a thing.

Immense quantities of tobacco were abandoned by the Secessionist citizens who left town. This fact ruined the sutlers' trade in that article. On the day before Atlanta fell, tobacco sold in our camps at a dollar a plug, and fifteen cents for cigars. On the day after, plug tobacco passed about for five cents, and cigars were twenty-five cents a hundred. Our men found tobacco in every conceivable place. One lot of twenty boxes was dug out from under a big ash-heap. It was, however, the only plunder obtained, for the most stringent orders were issued against pillaging occupied houses.

The effects of the Union bombardment could everywhere be seen in the city. Almost every house had the marks on it of shot and shell. One man showed me a dozen shells that had struck in his garden. The families remaining in the city had all built in their yards bombproofs, to which they had fled for safety whenever the shelling was in progress.

On September 6 Sherman's army came back from Jonesboro, and went into camp in the vicinity of town. For a time we enjoyed the luxury of complete rest, after our four months of continuous campaigning. On September 23 our Regiment received from Wisconsin 200 fresh recruits, who had just been secured under the draft. Every one was a substitute, and a splendid lot of men they were physically, representing almost every nation in Europe--English, Irish, Scotch, Welsh, Germans, French, Norwegians, and I don't know how many others. Some of them could not speak a word of English. Over a dozen were full-blooded Chippewa Indians, who until they put on the uniforms of the United States Army, had never worn the clothing of civilized people. They were all excellent raw material, and in the course of time made good soldiers. I recall only two of the entire 200 who deserted.

About the first of October, Hood set out on his trip to the North, in the attempt to starve us out of Atlanta. On October 3 Sherman started after him with all of the army except our Corps, which was left to hold the town. Our camps were now changed around so as to defend the city on a shorter line. Our Brigade was moved from the south to the northwest side, and set to work to build new breastworks, or rather to rebuild the old ones of the Confederates.

The enemy succeeded in getting upon our railroad to the North, and for about twenty days we were completely cut off without news or provisions. However, they had left us the whole of the country southward to forage in; and this, together with the rice we had captured in the city, and the "beef dried on the hoof," as the men called the cattle that were driven in, kept us a long way from starving. Every week our forage trains would run out into the country to the south, and gather in from 500 to 700 wagon-loads of corn, besides living, while they were out, on the best that the land afforded. Moreover, we had our provisions all to ourselves; for on September 10 Sherman had ordered all the citizens of the town to leave either to the North or to the South.

On October 11 our Regiment went out for the first time on a foraging expedition. There were 2,500 men in the detachment, and a train of about 500 wagons. About fifteen miles south of Atlanta we found plenty of corn for the animals; and for the men, abundance of sweet potatoes and other dainties not laid down in the army menu. In two days we had our wagons laden with all that could be hauled away. About a fortnight later we went out again and brought in over 800 wagons of corn.

The forage which we thus gathered was the salvation of our animals and beef cattle. The mules had been on half rations of grain all summer, quite without hay, and the whole country in the vicinity of Atlanta had been grazed over until it was as bare as a city street. The beeves that had been driven down from Louisville, had for weeks nothing to eat save the leaves and sprouts on the bushes. It was a standing joke among the men that the commissary always killed for beef those animals that could not survive until the next day.

_The March to the Sea_

On October 29 came the first through trains from Chattanooga, after the movement of Hood to the North. On the same day came orders to reduce baggage and prepare for marching. Soon, rumors were spreading about the camp that we were to start on a fifty days' campaign, without communications. On November 4 we were ready to move. I wrote numerous letters of good-bye to friends at home, telling them that they would hear from me next at Charleston or Savannah. I hoped that it would be Charleston, for I wanted the people of South Carolina who started the war to feel its effects and to reap their share of the horrors.

On November 5 we started out and marched three miles from town. The next day, however, we returned in order to wait until the Army of the Tennessee might be paid off. This gave us a chance to vote in the Presidential election, which we had come very near missing. Our Regiment gave Lincoln 304 votes and McClellan 21. For another full week we remained in Atlanta, our Regiment being occupied the entire time in tearing up railroad tracks and destroying everything of value in the city. By the time we were ready to leave, Atlanta was worth little more to the Confederates than any other piece of ground of similar size. On November 15 we started out in earnest on the now famous "March to the Sea." Our last view of Atlanta, the prize for which we had so long struggled, was a column of dense smoke from its burning buildings; we had destroyed everything in town except the churches and private residences.

Our expedition numbered about 50,000 men, under the command of Sherman. Thomas's army remained behind to look after Hood. We took with us only about twenty days' rations, for the country through which we passed was expected to furnish the remainder of our needs. The army proceeded in two columns--the right wing under Howard making for Macon; the left under Slocum making for Augusta. Each corps, also, took a different route in order to be able to subsist more easily on the country.

Our Corps proceeded along the Augusta railroad, which we destroyed as we went along by burning the ties and twisting the heated rails. Parts of the country were poor and furnished little forage. Other portions, however, compensated by giving us an abundance of sweet potatoes and pork, with occasional lots of corn meal, flour, and sorghum, and, for the first arrivals on the plantation, chickens and turkeys. On our route we found plenty of good horses and mules, and all the forage that we could carry off. Occasionally, also the enterprising forager would capture some apple-jack or corn whiskey.

At Madison we turned and took the road to Milledgeville, the capital of Georgia. Geary's Division, however, followed up the railroad to the Oconee River, and destroyed the Oconee bridge. We entered Milledgeville on the 22nd without opposition, and camped in the state-house yard. During our stay, our Regiment and the One Hundred Seventh New York guarded the city. I took up my quarters with an acquaintance of one of my Wisconsin friends, and saw to it that his house and family were not molested. He had several hundred bales of cotton stored near town, which Sherman had consented to have bonded; but some zealous officer or officious "bummer," had set fire to it before it could be saved.

Upon our approach to Milledgeville, Governor Brown of Georgia, had released all of the convicts in the State Prison at that place. In celebration of their freedom, their first act was to destroy the old prison. Our first work was to destroy the Milledgeville arsenal, in which was stored a large quantity of Confederate arms and ammunition. We carried out and threw into the river, all of the ammunition in the magazine, and burned up all of the arms and equipment. Besides several thousand stands of good arms, there were a lot of old-fashioned rifles and shot-guns, and thousands of pikes and bowie knives that had been manufactured by the State for the militia, with which to repel Yankees. In the state-house were millions of dollars of Georgia State money, in bills of all denominations and to these the men helped themselves without limit. All of the cotton in the vicinity that could be burned without endangering good buildings, was destroyed, and that which was stored in the city was bonded not to be turned over to the Confederate Government, or used for its benefit. I was sent out with a detachment of men to search the stores for tobacco, and found enough to load several wagons, which kept the army supplied with that article until we reached Savannah.

From Milledgeville we marched eastward toward Sandersville, through a very poor country. At Buffalo Creek, a swampy stream about eight miles from Sandersville, we found that the seven bridges crossing it had been burned--the negroes told us that this had been done by the people of Sandersville. We were delayed about three hours in repairing the bridges, so did not arrive at Sandersville until the next morning. For the last two days we had been on slim rations, and Sandersville was well supplied. Of course there was a general rush for eatables, and the town was soon raided. The citizens hurried to Sherman to make complaint and get protection.

He turned on them and asked, "Which of you was it who set fire to those bridges yesterday?" They all denied having done it, but admitted that it had been done by citizens of the town. "Well," said he, "those that make war must take the consequences," which was all the consolation they got. Later, we found the man who fired the bridges; he was promptly arrested and his property burned.

As we entered Sandersville we had a sharp skirmish with Wheeler's Confederate Cavalry, in which two of them were killed. Our Indians seemed to think it was not exactly right to leave the dead bodies with their scalps on. They soon fell into the civilized custom of making war, however, and did not afterward express any desire to take scalps.

From Sandersville we turned south until we reached the Georgia Central Railroad at Tennille Station. We burned the railway buildings there, and proceeded along the line, tearing it up as we went along.

On November 28 we passed near the home of the Honorable Herschel V. Johnson.[1] By prodding into the ground with their ramrods, some of our foragers found there a lot of more or less valuable papers and letters, which had for safe-keeping been buried in his cabbage patch. Some of the letters from his son, who was an officer on Hood's staff, afforded us much amusement. Our mess forager found here, also, a stock of flour that lasted until we reached Savannah.

[1] H. V. Johnson was born in Burke County, Georgia, in 1812. He served his State as Federal Senator from 1848 to 1849, and as Governor from 1853 to 1857. In 1860 he was nominated for the Vice-Presidency on the ticket of Stephen A. Douglas. He opposed to the last the secession of Georgia, but ultimately cast his lot with his State, and was elected to the Confederate Senate. After the war he was active in securing the restoration of Georgia to her political rights in the Union. In 1866 he was again chosen to the Federal Senate, but was unable to serve under the reconstruction acts of Congress. He died in Jefferson County, Georgia, in 1880.

Thus far, we had almost always found sufficient provisions along the line of march to feed the command fairly well. Now, however, we were obliged to send out strong parties of foragers for long distances on our flanks, to search the country in order to get enough to eat. Wherever we went we destroyed everything that might be of value to the enemy. On the 29th, near Bostwick, we burned up millions of feet of bridge timber, all got out and framed for bridges, that the Confederates expected to build when the Yankees were driven out. I noticed that some of the timbers were marked Strawberry Plains and Chattanooga Creek.

On December 3 our column crossed the Millen & Augusta Railroad near Millen, and destroyed as much of it as we could. We were now in a level, sandy country, thickly covered with pine timber, and plantations were few and scattered. On the 4th we heard cannonading in the distance, which was said by citizens to be at Charleston, South Carolina, seventy miles away. On the 7th we found our road for a distance obstructed with felled timber, which, however, so little delayed the march that those in the rear would not have known of it. On the 8th, after passing Springfield, the trains and pack-mules were left behind, with the Third Division as a guard, while the First and Second Divisions pushed on rapidly toward Savannah.

_In Front of Savannah_

We encountered the enemy in force for the first time fourteen miles from Savannah, in Monteith Swamp, where they had built an earthwork across the road and felled trees in front of it. The First Brigade of our Division was sent around to their left, and our Brigade to their right, while the Third Brigade moved forward on the center. Our plan was to hold their attention to the front, while we got around on their rear. They discovered us in time, however, to escape. Captain Kleven of Company H, who with his skirmishers, was in advance of our Brigade, made a rapid movement forward as soon as he saw the enemy falling back, and succeeded in capturing three prisoners. The First Brigade opened fire at about the same time, sending a few bullets over our way, and severely wounding in the foot, Captain Buck of Company B. The Third Brigade also came up in time to claim a share in the honor of capturing the three prisoners. Finally, to settle the dispute, the prisoners themselves were brought to Division headquarters, where they pointed out Captain Kleven as their captor.

At Monteith Station we captured the post-office and a considerable mail. The letters, which were mostly written by the soldiers whom we had tried to capture the day before, afforded the men an abundance of fun.

On the 10th we marched to within about four miles of Savannah, where we were stopped by the entrenched enemy. While we were getting into line, a detail of foragers, gathered along the banks of the Savannah River, spied a small steamer coming up the stream from the city. They hid themselves along the shore until the boat was directly opposite, when they opened a musketry fire and compelled the craft to surrender. It proved to be a Confederate dispatch boat on its way up the river to warn the fleet that Sherman and his army had arrived. The fleet did not receive the warning, and interesting developments followed. The men who had captured the prize did not know its value, and after stripping it of everything they wanted, set fire to it.

The country between our lines and those of the enemy was a big rice plantation, which overflowed at every high tide, and which could be kept under water by closing the flood-gates. The only means of access to the city were the narrow causeways built through this swamp. At the point where we were located, the Savannah River is divided by Argyle Island into two channels, the main or navigable one being near the Georgia shore. The island is about ten miles long, and at our end something like a mile wide. It was occupied by a large rice plantation, which naturally overflowed about two feet at high tide, but which had been ditched and diked so that the flow was regulated at the flood-gates. If we could control these, we could keep the island passable. The plantation buildings were situated on the east side, near the channel, where a number of acres rose high enough above the general surface to be safe from overflow.

On the evening of the 11th our Regiment was ordered across to Argyle Island. There were on hand but two or three skiffs, and only a portion of the men could be brought over that night. In the morning the crossing was being continued, when suddenly the discovery was made that three steamers were coming around the bend of the river on their way to Savannah. Owing to the vigilance of our foragers on the previous day, they had received no warning of the presence of Sherman's army.

Captain Winegar of Battery M, First New York Artillery, had his rifled guns in position on a slight elevation along the shore, where he commanded the river for a stretch of nearly a mile. As soon as the steamers, which were a part of Commodore Tattnall's Mosquito Fleet, came into plain view, he opened on them. They probably had never before been under fire for their crews seemed confused. The first craft, which was a gunboat, commenced immediately backing and turning. The second, the armed tender "Resolute," started to do the same, but was run into by the third, and so badly crippled that she drifted ashore against Argyle Island. The other two vessels managed to escape up the river.

While the miniature naval battle was going on, our men who were on the island, under command of Captain Barager, had hastened to the scene. When the "Resolute" drifted ashore, they were on hand to prevent the officers and crew from making their escape in small boats, as they had started to do. There were twenty prisoners in all. We afterwards had a fine lot of fun listening to the officers as they accused one another of being the cause of the disaster. The "Resolute" was towed over to the Georgia shore, near the battery, but could not be repaired in time to be of any service in our future operations on the island.

The question of rations was at this time becoming vital. One day's allowance had been issued to us on the day after our arrival in front of Savannah. We were, therefore, on the lookout for anything that might serve to supplement our supplies. As soon as my Company had come across to the island, we took the shortest route to the plantation buildings on the east side. Not a thing was left; those who had come before us had already absorbed everything. But at the landing I found a good six-oared boat that would carry about ten men besides the rowers. Impressing a crew of negroes to row the boat, I started for a plantation on the other side of the river, about half a mile up, thinking that I would be the first man of Sherman's army to invade South Carolina. On landing, however, I was told by the blacks that two of our "bummers" had been there the day before, and in an altercation with the plantation hands had killed one of them. The funeral was just going on when we arrived. Subsequent events made me believe that Wheeler's Cavalry, and not our men were responsible for this tragedy.

I placed a sentinel out on the only road by which a mounted force could approach, and then began a search for eatables. We soon were rewarded by a good supply of sweet potatoes and sorghum. In the boat-house we found a fine lot of boats; as these were especially valuable for our purposes, we shoved them all out into the river to float down to our landing on the island. We had just loaded up our supplies, when my sentinel came running in with the report that a large force of cavalry were coming. We hastily pulled back to the island and waited for them; but they did not come to close quarters and soon retired.

Three days later I was sent out with Captain Barager's Company and my own to take possession of this plantation. We knew that the enemy now held it in some force, but we did not know how strong they were. I had secured boats enough on our first raid to be able to take over both of our companies at one time. We started in the morning, when it was as yet scarcely light, hoping to come upon the enemy unexpectedly. Their sentinels discovered us, however, and fired on us while crossing. We landed about a quarter of a mile from the plantation buildings and rapidly pushed forward. I sent Barager with his Company to the right, while I took the direct course to the rice mill, in which the enemy were sheltered.

The country was broken up into a mass of ditches, dykes, and canals. We found that our only road was along a narrow dyke, and that we should either have to return or charge them in single file. We did not retreat. In less time than it takes to tell this story, we had the mill. They gave us one volley and hit nobody. We did not fire a shot. They escaped with their guns and ammunition, but we captured all their provisions, including their breakfast cooking on the fire. For the first time in three days we had all that we wanted to eat. Colonel Hawley came over soon after, with three more companies, but toward night the Confederates appeared in such force that we again withdrew to the island.

The next morning the enemy brought down a section of artillery to the Smith Plantation, as it was called, and commenced shelling our island camp. I was sent with my Company to get as close as possible to them on our side of the river, and either silence them or drive them off. I got up within about a hundred and fifty yards of them and opened fire. They immediately turned their guns on us, and for a few minutes gave it to us hot. We had good shelter, however, and lost only one man--John Furlong, a veteran of Company E. It took me about twenty minutes to drive off the battery, but their infantry held out all day.

On the 19th the whole Brigade crossed over to the Smith Plantation, with a section of artillery. Entrenchments were built at all commanding points, and preparation made to hold the position. On the 20th Colonel Hawley made a reconnoissance in force toward Union Causeway, the only Confederate outlet from Savannah, but found the enemy in such strength that he could not reach it. But from our position we could see the lines of their wagons leaving the city. On the morning of the 21st it was found that the enemy had evacuated Savannah, and our troops moved in and took possession.

We now received orders to recross the river to the Georgia side and march to Savannah. We had nothing but flatboats to cross in, and a strong wind was against us, so that we made slow progress while our Regiment covered the crossing. When all the rest had passed over, and we were about half embarked, the enemy swarmed down upon us by the thousand. They had us surrounded on three sides, with a river behind; and our chances for seeing Savannah were not brilliant. Nevertheless, we faced about and prepared to fight them. Our friends of the Second Massachusetts came, without orders, back to our assistance, and placed themselves where they could cover our flanks. We were sheltered behind a dyke, and the enemy could not get at us save by charging across an open rice field; this they did not have the nerve to do, so that when darkness settled down we got off safely to the island. I think there was not a man in our command, but thanked his lucky stars that it was not some of Lee's veterans that had us in that fix that night.

_In Savannah_

The next day, we crossed without interruption from the island to the Georgia shore, which we reached by four o'clock, and then marched toward Savannah. We went into camp on the bank of the river about two miles from the city, and this ended on our part the "March to the Sea."

Just twenty-five days had elapsed from the time our army left Atlanta until it signalled the fleet off the coast. During that time our wing had marched 300 miles, destroyed over 400 miles of railroad and an amount of cotton that can hardly be estimated, and most of the time had lived off the country. Of our immense train of 2,500 wagons not one had been captured on the route. We had moreover secured an almost entirely new stock of mules and horses. And to crown all, we had won Savannah with an immense amount of the spoils of war. It was everywhere the opinion that Sherman had struck the hardest blow at the Rebellion that it had yet received, and at the least cost. The troops were in high spirits over their continued successes. The feeling prevailed that they had but to start for a place, and it was theirs. The confidence in Sherman was unlimited. When we left Atlanta, on what was considered the most perilous movement of the war, I never heard a single expression of doubt as to our ultimate success. The Confederates whom we encountered considered him the ablest general that had commanded troops in the war, and feared him more than any other.

We remained at Savannah until January 17, 1865. Our camp was in a beautiful grove of live oaks and pine, festooned with Spanish moss, and the weather was delightful. The work was comparatively light, and the men were confidently looking forward to the end of the war. We built new fortifications around the city on nearly the same lines as the old Revolutionary works. New roads were constructed across Hutchinson Island and northward into South Carolina. We were also busy, in order that supplies might be brought in as fast as needed, in clearing out the Savannah River, which the enemy had closed with obstructions.

The citizens of Savannah seemed well pleased with their change of rulers. They uniformly treated us with courtesy, and displayed a sociability that we did not usually encounter in the South. In return, General Sherman showed them every possible consideration. I was never in a captured place where private property was respected and protected as it was here, or where citizens were allowed so many privileges. Employment was furnished to those who wanted it, and a large amount of provisions was placed at the disposal of the mayor of the city for distribution among the destitute.

A good story was told on the Episcopal rector of the town. He had been deputized by the rest of the clergy to wait on General Sherman, and get permission to preach. When he stated his business, Sherman at once replied, "Of course you can preach; that is just what I want you to do."

The preacher then stammered out an enquiry whether he would be compelled to pray for the President of the United States. "Pray for Jeff. Davis or the Devil, if you want to," replied Sherman; "I think you had better pray for them, for they need it more than Lincoln."

_Marching Northward_

On January 17 we crossed the Savannah River on our bridge of flatboats, and started on our new campaign to the North. We were at the outset met by such fearful weather that we were virtually brought to a standstill. Only a portion of our army had yet crossed to the South Carolina side, when a freshet of unprecedented height raised the river so suddenly that it swept away the bridge, overflowed Hutchinson Island, and carried off a lot of wagons and mules that were just about to start. The freshet came before there had been a drop of rain in our vicinity; but it began to rain immediately after, and it seemed as though it would never stop. The country everywhere became a perfect quagmire, and a dry spot was hard to find.

Slowly we proceeded up the east side of the Savannah River, the remainder of Sherman's army following on the right side. On the 29th, at Robertsville, we encountered a strong force of Wheeler's Cavalry, which delayed our column for a short time. Our Regiment was sent to the front to drive them off. The two right companies, under command of Captain Haskins, deployed as skirmishers, and soon swept the enemy away like chaff before the wind. On the 30th we opened communications with Sherman at Sister's Ferry, where he had brought the remainder of his army across into South Carolina.

We now left Savannah River, marching almost directly north. Profiting by our previous experiences, we early organized a foraging party of four men from each company. They had permission to mount themselves with captured animals as soon as possible. In a short time they not only had mounts, but sufficient pack animals to carry several days' provisions for the Regiment. The first time they came into camp they presented a motley appearance, riding horses and mules, and displaying every variety of saddle and harness known to man. But they were soon as well mounted as the cavalry, and had transportation and equipment for any service. As we marched northward, the enemy's cavalry became more and more active on our flanks, so that our foragers were compelled to unite for protection. Our detail and that from the Second Massachusetts, under Lieutenant Thompson, were united almost from the start.

The low ground and the constant rains made marching so difficult that we rarely covered more than twelve miles in a day. Much of the way we were obliged to corduroy the roads for the trains. For this purpose we used fence rails when they were to be had; when there were none, we cut timber and brush. Reaching the Charleston & Augusta Railroad at Graham Station on February 7, we spent the next four days in destroying the tracks toward Augusta.

While we were in camp at Graham Station, Colonel Hawley, who now commanded our Brigade, and General Slocum, our Corps commander, had an argument as to the best method of tearing up a railroad track. Hawley contended that it was best to line up the men along the track, and at the word of command have them pick it up and turn it over. Slocum protested that this could not be done. A bet was made of a bottle of Apollinaris water, or something else, and Hawley sent for his old Regiment to try the experiment. When the order came to fall in without arms, our men were cooking their supper. Captain Woodford of Hawley's staff went along the line, while we were forming, and explained that the Colonel had made a bet as to what the Regiment could do. We were soon lined up along the track, and the command was given to take hold and lift. In the hands of those brawny men, that railroad was a plaything. It went over so fast, that some of the staff officers who had gathered to watch the performance, had to move lively to escape the flying rails and ties.[2]

[2] A detailed description of the manner of destroying railroad track during Sherman's Campaign is given by Gen. H. W. Slocum, "Sherman's March from Savannah to Bentonville," in _Century Magazine_ Old Series, xxxiv, p. 930.

From Graham Station we marched northward through constant rain and mud, subsisting entirely on the country, without drawing rations except coffee or sugar, and generally we had plenty to eat; corn meal and bacon constituted our usual bill of fare. The army was in fine spirits. In thus picking up a living in such a country, where the only products of the soil seemed to be tar and rosin, and pitch pines the only visible vegetation, they felt confident of their ability to find a living anywhere.

Our Corps did not enter Columbia, but crossed the Saluda River about ten miles above. The Fifteenth and Seventeenth Corps of the Army of the Tennessee occupied the city, and destroyed everything in it. They released about sixty Union officers who were confined there; and between them and the soldiers and the whiskey that was found Columbia soon ceased to exist. Scarcely a private residence, even, was left. The only thing that would not burn was the new state-house, said to have been the finest in the Union, and this was mined and blown up. South Carolina was having a bitter taste of the horrors of war.

On February 21 we struck at Winnsboro the railroad running between Columbia and Charlotteville; and following this northward for a distance, destroyed it as we went along. Then turning toward the northeast, by way of Rocky Mount, Hanging Rock, and Chesterfield, we marched to Fayetteville, North Carolina.

During the entire march from Columbia to Fayetteville we had but three pleasant days; the rain was almost continuous. Our road, most of the way, was through swamps and creeks, where bridges had to be built and roads corduroyed. Frequently, from early morning until midnight, we worked in rain and mud to get our trains along for six or eight miles. The rough work soon wore out our clothing--many of the men were barefooted; many were wearing citizen's dress; the whole army looked more like Falstaff's ragged regiment than soldiers of the United States. But we met little opposition from the enemy. The spirit of four years before seemed to have been beaten out of them. We felt that the only Confederate troops that would still give us serious fighting, were those with Lee at Richmond.

Arriving at Fayetteville on March 12, we once more opened communication with the fleet, by way of Wilmington and Cape Fear River. On the 15th we set out on our way to Goldsboro, and the first night went early into camp, about ten miles from Fayetteville. At eight o'clock, however, we were sent out again into a dark and stormy night to go to the assistance of General Kilpatrick's Cavalry, which had met the enemy. For five miles we waded through mud and water to the place of danger, and bivouacked for the night in line, facing the enemy. In the morning we had some sharp skirmishing, but in the afternoon the enemy were driven from their position.

On the 19th General Carlin's Division of the Fourteenth Corps was attacked and thrown into confusion by General Joe Johnston's army near Bentonville. Our Brigade was rapidly pushed forward with a number of others, and formed in line of battle near the left of the Corps. The enemy made several attacks, the brunt of which fell upon the troops to the right, and then retreated. This battle, which the Union Army nicknamed the Battle of Acorn Run, in compliment to the badge of the Fourteenth Corps, was the last in which our Regiment was engaged during the war.

On the 22nd, we advanced once more, and found that the enemy was gone. Two days later we arrived at Goldsboro, and occupied the city without opposition. On the 27th, for the first time since we had left Savannah, rations were issued to the troops.

_Peace_

We began the last campaign of the war on April 10, entering Raleigh on the 13th without resistance. The next day we again began to organize our foraging parties, and to make preparations for a campaign back through Georgia. During the day, however, everything was changed. General Johnston, following Lee's surrender on April 9, had sent in asking for terms.

On April 20 I wrote home the following letter:

CAMP OF THE 3RD WIS. VET. INFTY.
RALEIGH, N. C., APRIL 20, 1864.

My Dear ----:

The Angel of Peace has spread his wings over our country once more.
The glad tidings were announced to the army last night by General
Sherman in general orders. As soon as the agreement which he had
made with General Johnston and higher authorities could be ratified
at Washington, peace would be restored from the Potomac to the Rio
Grande. It was a glorious day for us who have seen the thing through
from the beginning to the end. General Sherman also says that he
expects "soon to have the pleasure of conducting this army to its
homes," and I believe that within six weeks you will see me in
Chicago "home from the wars."

I don't know just exactly what the terms of surrender are, but it is
the opinion of high officers that no troops will be needed for
garrison duty in the South. The rebels have been so completely
whipped that they will never want to try another rebellion. I
understand that Jeff. made no stipulation for his personal safety,
but said he was willing to take his trial before the courts, and
trust to the mercy of the American people. The only difficulty in
the negotiations was on the question of the confiscation of landed
property, and I have not learned how that was arranged. But I
believe that we have been so completely victorious that we can
afford to be merciful, and that a general amnesty will do more to
cement the Union than the most rigorous punishment. The punishment
that the South has already endured is like Cain's "greater than they
can bear." The destruction of life in this war in the South has been
terrible.

The news that Johnston had asked for terms on which to surrender his
army was published on the 16th. On the morning of the 17th a gloom
was thrown over the whole army by the announcement of the
assassination of the President, which was reported to have occurred
on the 11th. I never saw such a gloomy, sad time since I have been
in the army as that. I don't think we knew how much we did think of
him until then. Many expressed the opinion that if it had been Andy
Johnson and Stanton, it would not have been much of a calamity. The
next day we had New York papers of the 14th which made no mention of
the murder, and we all thought we had been hoaxed. Then the
explanation was made that the operator at Morehead City had made an
error, and that the assassination had been on the 14th instead of
the 11th, and now I hardly know what to believe about it. We shall
probably get more news today.

We are about to move our camp, and now for the first time comfort
instead of safety is considered in the selection. Just think of it!
I can hardly realize it. No more skirmishing, no more digging
trenches and building breastworks, no more whistling bullets,
rattling grape-shot, or screaming shells, no more friends and
comrades to be killed or wounded.

I don't know what has become of all my letters lately. The mail has
come in here three times, and I have not had a letter. My last
letters were dated in February, except one from * * * of March 7. I
suppose they will all come in a heap one of these days. * * * The
weather is very fine though almost too warm. We have occasional
showers, and vegetation is growing fine. This part of North Carolina
is very fine country and crops look well.

A great many of Lee's paroled army are coming in here, and they seem
more pleased at being whipped or at getting home than we do at
having gained a victory. Some of them say they cheered louder when
they surrendered than Grant's army when they captured them.

* * * * *

Our camps were now overrun with citizens and paroled Confederate soldiers, who were hunting for horses that they had lost; some of them had come as far as sixty or seventy miles. We gave them all the spare horses that we had, for we knew that the Government would have to help them in some way to keep them from starvation. We also issued to them large quantities of rations, for there was nothing eatable left in all the track of Sherman's army. On the 29th, general orders were issued announcing the formal surrender of Johnston's army.

_Homeward_

On the next day began the march to Washington. We entered Richmond on May 11, and on the 15th camped near the old battle-field of Chancellorsville. On the 24th we marched into Washington, where the Union army passed in review before all the dignitaries of our Nation, the representatives of foreign lands, and the immense throngs of people who had gathered from far and near to see Sherman's veterans. For this review, we selected from our Regiment, eight companies of thirty-two men each--the best drilled soldiers that we had. It was my place to ride in the rear of the Regiment as it marched down Pennsylvania Avenue, and no command made a better show than ours. From the Capitol to the reviewing stand, the marching and wheeling were simply perfect.

We now went into camp near Bladensburg, where all of the men whose terms of service expired before October 1 were mustered out and sent home. On June 6, General Hawley issued his farewell order to the old Brigade. When it was broken up on the next day, the officers of the Second Massachusetts sent to the officers of our regiment the formal expression of the feeling with which they parted from us. We replied in a similar letter. Even now, after a lapse of twenty-six years, it stirs the blood to read these two messages.[3]

[3] This correspondence was as follows:

Second Massachusetts Infantry,
Camp Slocum, Washington, D. C, June 4,
1865.

We, the undersigned, officers of the Second Massachusetts Infantry,
wish to express to the officers of the Third Wisconsin Infantry our
heartfelt regret that the fortunes of the service are about to
separate our respective organizations.

From the campaign of 1862, in the Shenandoah Valley to the present
glorious close of this bloody war, we have fought and marched side
by side with you in almost every rebellious state. To have been
brigaded together for so long a time is in itself remarkable; no less
so is it that between our two regiments there should always have
existed such strong feelings of friendship and mutual regard, untinged
by the slightest shadow of jealousy.

As we recall now, some of the hard positions we have been in, we
cannot help remembering how often our anxiety was lessened by the
knowledge that the old Third Wisconsin was close at hand to support
us. We know that you have had the same thoughts about us. Nothing in
this whole war will be pleasanter for us to look back upon than this
feeling of mutual respect and reliance. It not only elevated the tone
of both our regiments, but we honestly believe, it went a great way
toward making our brigade and division what they are now acknowledged
to be--among the very best organizations of the army.

We assure you that in our own State, wherever the Second Massachusetts
is known, its brother regiment is also famous. Whenever any of us
have been at home, among the first inquiries would be, "How is the
Third Wisconsin?" It has been with pride that we have answered, "It is
the same staunch old regiment that fought at Antietam and
Chancellorsville."

These are not compliments but expressions of plain, honest feelings.
We have been knit together by deeds not words; deeds, which, as time
goes on, we shall look back upon with continually increasing pride.