Ruins of Chambersburg.
Ruins of Chambersburg.
"Pay me twenty thousand dollars or I will burn your town," said Early to the citizens of Hagerstown, who advanced the money or its equivalent.
General Lew Wallace was in command at Baltimore. He sent what troops he could collect to the Monocacy, where he was joined by Ricketts's division of the Sixth Corps. Wallace formed his line across the railroad and awaited Early's advance. With the exception of Ricketts's division, Wallace's troops were men enlisted for one hundred days, also heavy artillerests taken from the Baltimore fortifications, invalids from the hospitals, and volunteers, numbering about nine thousand. The Rebels forded the stream and began the attack. They were held in check several hours. Wallace, after losing about twelve hundred men, was obliged to retreat.
His defeat, and the stories of the magnitude of the Rebel force, put Baltimore and Washington in great excitement. The battle at Monocacy was fought on Saturday. On Sunday morning the church-bells in Baltimore were rung, and the citizens, instead of attending worship, made haste to prepare for the enemy. Alarming reports reached that city from Westminster, Reisterstown, and Cockeysville, that the Rebels were in possession of those places. Couriers dashed into Washington from Rockville, only twelve miles distant, crying that the Rebels were advancing upon the capital. On Monday morning they were near Havre-de-Grace, at Gunpowder River, where they burned the bridge, cut the telegraph, captured trains, and robbed passengers, entirely severing Baltimore and Washington from the loyal North. Only five miles from Washington, they burned the house of Governor Bradford, and pillaged Montgomery Blair's. Government employees were under arms, and troops were hastening out on the roads leading north and west, when I arrived in Washington. Loud cheers greeted Wright's two divisions of the Sixth Corps, and still louder shouts the veterans of the Nineteenth Corps, from the Mississippi, as they marched through the city. It was amusing and instructive to watch the rapid change in men's countenances. When disaster threatens, men are silent; the danger past, the tongue is loosened.
On Tuesday the Rebel sharpshooters were in front of FortStevens; they picked off some of the gunners, but a charge by a brigade dislodged them. They fled, leaving about one hundred dead and wounded. Forces were gathering around Early, and on Wednesday morning he hastily retreated. He recrossed the Potomac at Edwards's Ferry, and made his way, through Snicker's Gap, into the Shenandoah Valley, with an immense train of plunder, consisting of forage, grain, horses, cattle, hogs, sheep, groceries, clothing, and a forced contribution of two hundred thousand dollars from the people of Frederick, levied under threat of burning the town.
Early had no serious intention of attacking Washington, but the invasion was designed primarily to raise the siege of Petersburg, and secondarily to replenish the commissariat of the Rebel army.
Grant comprehended the movement, and instead of abandoning Petersburg, made preparations to seize the Weldon road, which, after a severe struggle, was accomplished. A few weeks later Sheridan defeated Early in the Valley, which ended the campaign of 1864 in Virginia.
A lay delegate in the hospital.
A lay delegate in the hospital.
A charge.
A charge.
Dec., 1864.
The army under General Sherman fought its way from Chattanooga to Atlanta, and then marched to the sea, capturing Fort McAllister, and opening communication with the fleet under Dupont on the 13th of December, and a few days later made its grandentréeinto Savannah. A brief review of Sherman's campaign is necessary to a clear understanding of what afterward transpired in his department.
While the Army of the Potomac was pushing through to the south side of the James, the Army of the West was moving upon Atlanta, having driven the Rebels under Johnston from Tunnel Hill, Buzzards' Roost, Resaca, Kingston, Allatoona, and Kenesaw. Johnston fought only on the defensive, and was constantly beaten, abandoning stronghold after stronghold that the Rebels had declared impregnable, and whose surrender they felt was humiliating and disgraceful.
There was a clamor throughout the South for his removal, and the appointment of a general who would take the offensive. Jeff Davis disliked Johnston on personal grounds, and appointed Hood his successor. That officer hurled his troops against Sherman's breastworks, and suffered a damaging defeat. Sherman in turn made a flank movement, and compelled Hood to evacuate Atlanta, which Sherman occupied on the 2d of September. Jeff Davis hastened West. He conceived the idea of forcing Sherman to retreat from Atlanta to Nashville, by invading Tennessee. As Hood's army had been driven from Chattanooga to Dalton, losing all its strong positions, this plan is one of the most remarkable in military history. It is hardly within the sphere of sober criticism, but appropriately belongs to the comic page. "Your feet shall again press the soil of Tennessee, within thirty days," said Davis to the soldiers. "The invader shall be driven from your territory. The retreat of Sherman from Atlanta shall be like Napoleon's from Moscow."
Sherman had already contemplated a movement to Savannah, and had opened correspondence with Grant.
"Until we can repopulate Georgia it is useless to occupy it; but the utter destruction of its roads, houses, and people will cripple their military resources. By attempting to hold the roads we will lose a thousand men monthly, and will gain no result. I can make the march and make Georgia howl.... Hood may turn into Tennessee and Kentucky, but I believe he will be forced to follow me. Instead of being on the defensive, I would be on the offensive. Instead of guessing at what he means, he would have to guess at my plans. The difference in war is fully twenty-five per cent. I can make Savannah, Charleston, or the mouth of the Chattahoochee, and prefer to march through Georgia, smashing things to the sea."
Grant authorized the movement. Hood was preparing to move north.
Sherman's right wing, commanded by Howard, was composed of Osterhaus's Fifteenth Corps and the Seventeenth, under Blair; Slocum had his left wing, containing the Fourteenth Corps under Jeff. C. Davis, and the Twentieth with Williams.
The Twentieth was consolidated from the Eleventh and Twelfth Corps of the Army of the Potomac, which had fought at Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, and Gettysburg.
Sherman sent his last despatch to Washington on the 11th of November. On the 17th, the day on which Sherman left Atlanta, Hood crossed the Tennessee River, to make the movement which was to compel Sherman to evacuate Georgia!
Sherman's southward march was a surprise to the Rebels. They affected joy, and predicted his destruction.
Said the AugustaConstitutionalist:—
"The hand of God is in it. The blow, if we can give it as it should be given, may end the war. We urge our friends in the track of the advance to remove forage and provisions, horses, mules, and negroes, and stock, and burn the balance. Let the invader find the desolation he would leave behind him staring him in the face.... Cut trees across all roads in front of the enemy, burn the bridges, remove everything possible in time, and, before the enemy arrives, burn and destroy what cannot be removed,—leave nothing on which he can subsist; and hide the millstone and machinery of the mills.... The Russians destroyedthe grand army of Napoleon, of five hundred thousand men, by destroying their country, by the fulness of fire applied to their own cities, houses, and granaries. Let Georgians imitate their unselfishness and love of country for a few weeks, and the army of Sherman will have the fate of the army of Napoleon."[72]
Said the SavannahNews:—
"We have only to arouse our whole arms-bearing people,—hover on his front, his flanks, and rear,—remove from his reach or destroy every thing that will subsist man or beast,—retard his progress by every means in our power,—and, when the proper time comes, fall upon him with the relentless vengeance of an insulted and outraged people, and there need be no doubt of the result."[73]
If it be true," said theExaminerof Richmond, "that Sherman is now attempting this prodigious design, we may safely predict that his march will lead him to the Paradise of Fools, and that his magnificent scheme will hereafter be reckoned
'With all the good deeds that never were done.'"
Almost without opposition Sherman reached the sea, and forced Hardee to evacuate Savannah.
General Sherman is regarded by many people in the Southern States as the Attila of the nineteenth century, because his path from Atlanta to the Roanoke is a widespread scene of devastation. Yet he did only that which the leaders of the Rebellion and the newspapers of the South urged the people to do. They proposed to make the country a ruin in self-defence. Sherman did it to shorten the war. He says:—
"We consumed the corn and fodder in the region of country for thirty miles on either side of a line from Atlanta to Savannah; also the sweet potatoes, hogs, sheep, and poultry, and carried off more than ten thousand horses and mules. I estimate the damage done to the State of Georgia as one hundred million dollars; at least twenty million dollars of which enured to our advantage, and the remainder was simple waste and destruction."[74]
This is a frank avowal. It is the official utterance of the commander who was instrumental in causing such wholesale destruction. To what end? What was gained by it? Wassuch destruction warranted? What will be the verdict of history? These are questions which force themselves upon every thinking mind.
General Sherman's vindication of himself is found in his correspondence with the Mayor of Atlanta and with General Hood concerning the expulsion of the non-combatants from that city.
As he could not subsist his army and the citizens also, he ordered that every person not connected with the army should leave the place. The people of that town had done what they could to overthrow the government of the United States. They had given great material aid to the Rebellion. They hated the Union as bitterly as ever, but were willing to be consumers of the food dispensed by a government which they were not willing to recognize as holding rightful authority over them. The Mayor set forth the suffering which would be entailed upon women and children, the poor and sick, by the enforcement of the order.
"You know the woe, the horror, and the suffering cannot be described in words," said the Mayor. "Imagination can only conceive of it, and we ask you to take these things into consideration.... We solemnly petition you to reconsider this order, or modify it, and suffer this unfortunate people to remain at home and enjoy what little means they have."
The reply of General Sherman was clear and decisive.
"Gentlemen: I have your letter of the 11th, in the nature of a petition to revoke my orders removing all the inhabitants from Atlanta. I have read it carefully, and give full credit to your statements of the distress that will be occasioned by it, and yet shall not revoke my order, simply because my orders are not designed to meet the humanities of the case, but to prepare for the future struggles in which millions, yea, hundreds of millions of good people outside of Atlanta, have a deep interest. We must have peace, not only at Atlanta, but in all America. To secure this we must stop the war that now desolates our once happy and favored country. To stop the war, we must defeat the Rebel armies that are arrayed against the laws and Constitution, which all must respect and obey. To defeat the armies, we must prepare the way to reach them in their recesses, provided with the arms and instruments which enable us to accomplish our purpose."Now, I know the vindictive nature of our enemy, and that we mayhave many years of military operations from this quarter, and therefore deem it wise and prudent to prepare in time. The use of Atlanta for warlike purposes is inconsistent with its character as a home for families. There will be no manufactures, commerce, or agriculture here for the maintenance of families, and sooner or later want will compel the inhabitants to go...."War is cruelty, and you cannot refine it; and those who brought war on our country deserve all the curses and maledictions a people can pour out. I know I had no hand in making this war, and I know I will make more sacrifices to-day than any of you to secure peace. But you cannot have peace and a division of our country...."You might as well appeal against the thunder-storm as against these terrible hardships of war. They are inevitable, and the only way the people of Atlanta can hope once more to live in peace and quiet at home, is to stop this war, which can alone be done by admitting that it began in error and is perpetuated in pride. We don't want your negroes or your horses, or your houses or your land, or anything you have; but we do want, and will have, a just obedience to the laws of the United States. That we will have, and if it involves the destruction of your improvements, we cannot help it."You have heretofore read public sentiment in your newspapers, that live by falsehood and excitement, and the quicker you seek for truth in other quarters the better for you. I repeat, then, that by the original compact of government, the United States had certain rights in Georgia which have never been relinquished, and never will be; that the South began the war by seizing forts, arsenals, mints, custom-houses, etc., etc., long before Mr. Lincoln was installed, and before the South had one jot or tittle of provocation. I myself have seen, in Missouri, Kentucky, Tennessee, and Mississippi, hundreds and thousands of women and children fleeing from your armies and desperadoes, hungry and with bleeding feet. In Memphis, Vicksburg, and Mississippi, we fed thousands upon thousands of the families of Rebel soldiers left on our hands, and whom we could not see starve. Now that war comes home to you, you feel very differently, you deprecate its horrors, but did not feel them when you sent car-loads of soldiers and ammunition, and moulded shells and shot to carry war into Kentucky and Tennessee, and desolate the homes of hundreds and thousands of good people, who only asked to live in peace at their old homes, and under the government of their inheritance. But these comparisons are idle. I want peace, and believe it can only be reached through Union and war; and I will ever conduct war purely with a view to perfect an early success."But, my dear sirs, when that peace does come, you may call uponme for anything. Then will I share with you the last cracker, and watch with you to shield your home and families against danger from every quarter. Now, you must go, and take with you the old and feeble; feed and nurse them, and build for them in more quiet places proper habitations to shield them against the weather, until the mad passions of men cool down, and allow the Union and peace once more to settle on your old homes at Atlanta."
"Gentlemen: I have your letter of the 11th, in the nature of a petition to revoke my orders removing all the inhabitants from Atlanta. I have read it carefully, and give full credit to your statements of the distress that will be occasioned by it, and yet shall not revoke my order, simply because my orders are not designed to meet the humanities of the case, but to prepare for the future struggles in which millions, yea, hundreds of millions of good people outside of Atlanta, have a deep interest. We must have peace, not only at Atlanta, but in all America. To secure this we must stop the war that now desolates our once happy and favored country. To stop the war, we must defeat the Rebel armies that are arrayed against the laws and Constitution, which all must respect and obey. To defeat the armies, we must prepare the way to reach them in their recesses, provided with the arms and instruments which enable us to accomplish our purpose.
"Now, I know the vindictive nature of our enemy, and that we mayhave many years of military operations from this quarter, and therefore deem it wise and prudent to prepare in time. The use of Atlanta for warlike purposes is inconsistent with its character as a home for families. There will be no manufactures, commerce, or agriculture here for the maintenance of families, and sooner or later want will compel the inhabitants to go....
"War is cruelty, and you cannot refine it; and those who brought war on our country deserve all the curses and maledictions a people can pour out. I know I had no hand in making this war, and I know I will make more sacrifices to-day than any of you to secure peace. But you cannot have peace and a division of our country....
"You might as well appeal against the thunder-storm as against these terrible hardships of war. They are inevitable, and the only way the people of Atlanta can hope once more to live in peace and quiet at home, is to stop this war, which can alone be done by admitting that it began in error and is perpetuated in pride. We don't want your negroes or your horses, or your houses or your land, or anything you have; but we do want, and will have, a just obedience to the laws of the United States. That we will have, and if it involves the destruction of your improvements, we cannot help it.
"You have heretofore read public sentiment in your newspapers, that live by falsehood and excitement, and the quicker you seek for truth in other quarters the better for you. I repeat, then, that by the original compact of government, the United States had certain rights in Georgia which have never been relinquished, and never will be; that the South began the war by seizing forts, arsenals, mints, custom-houses, etc., etc., long before Mr. Lincoln was installed, and before the South had one jot or tittle of provocation. I myself have seen, in Missouri, Kentucky, Tennessee, and Mississippi, hundreds and thousands of women and children fleeing from your armies and desperadoes, hungry and with bleeding feet. In Memphis, Vicksburg, and Mississippi, we fed thousands upon thousands of the families of Rebel soldiers left on our hands, and whom we could not see starve. Now that war comes home to you, you feel very differently, you deprecate its horrors, but did not feel them when you sent car-loads of soldiers and ammunition, and moulded shells and shot to carry war into Kentucky and Tennessee, and desolate the homes of hundreds and thousands of good people, who only asked to live in peace at their old homes, and under the government of their inheritance. But these comparisons are idle. I want peace, and believe it can only be reached through Union and war; and I will ever conduct war purely with a view to perfect an early success.
"But, my dear sirs, when that peace does come, you may call uponme for anything. Then will I share with you the last cracker, and watch with you to shield your home and families against danger from every quarter. Now, you must go, and take with you the old and feeble; feed and nurse them, and build for them in more quiet places proper habitations to shield them against the weather, until the mad passions of men cool down, and allow the Union and peace once more to settle on your old homes at Atlanta."
General Hood protested against the order. By a flag of truce he sent a letter, saying:—
"Permit me to say, the unprecedented measure you propose transcends in studied and iniquitous cruelty all acts ever before brought to my attention in this dark history of the war. In the name of God and humanity, I protest, believing you are expelling from homes and firesides wives and children of a brave people."
To this Sherman answered on the same date:—
"You style the measures proposed, 'unprecedented,' and appeal to the dark history of war for a parallel, as an act of 'studied and iniquitous cruelty.' It is not unprecedented, for General Johnston himself very wisely and properly removed the families all the way from Dalton down, and I see no reason why Atlanta should be excepted. Nor is it necessary to appeal to 'the dark history of war,' when recent and modern examples are so handy. You yourself burned dwelling-houses along your parapet; and I have seen, to-day, fifty houses that you have rendered uninhabitable because they stood in the way of your forts and men. You defended Atlanta on a line so close to the town that every cannon-shot and many musket-shots from our line of investment, that overshot their mark, went into the habitations of women and children. General Hardee did the same thing at Jonesboro', and General Johnston did the same last summer at Jackson, Mississippi."I have not accused you of heartless cruelty, but merely instance these cases of very recent occurrence, and could go on and enumerate hundreds of others, and challenge any fair man to judge which of us has the heart of pity for the families of 'brave people.' I say it is kindness to these families of Atlanta to remove them at once from scenes that women and children should not be exposed to; and the 'brave people' should scorn to commit their wives and children to the rude barbarians who thus, as you say, violate the rules of war as illustrated in the pages of its 'dark history.'"In the name of common sense, I ask you not to 'appeal to a just God' in such a sacrilegious manner,—you who in the midst of peaceand prosperity have plunged a nation into war, dark and cruel war; who dared and badgered us into battle; insulted our flag; seized our arsenals and forts that were left in the honorable custody of a peaceful ordnance sergeant; seized and made prisoners even the very first garrisons sent to protect your people against negroes and Indians, long before any other act was committed by the, to you, 'hateful Lincoln government,' tried to force Missouri and Kentucky into rebellion, in spite of themselves; falsified the vote of Louisiana; turned loose your privateers to plunder unarmed ships; expelled Union families by the thousands, burned their houses, and declared by acts of your Congress the confiscation of all debts due Northern men for goods had and received. Talk thus to the Marines, but not to me, who have seen these things, and who will this day make as much sacrifice for the peace and honor of the South as the best-born Southerner among you. If we must be enemies, let us be men, and fight it out as we propose to-day, and not deal in such hypocritical appeals to God and humanity."God will judge us in due time, and he will pronounce whether it will be humane to fight with a town full of women and the families of 'a brave people' at our back, or to remove them in time to places of safety among their own friends and people."
"You style the measures proposed, 'unprecedented,' and appeal to the dark history of war for a parallel, as an act of 'studied and iniquitous cruelty.' It is not unprecedented, for General Johnston himself very wisely and properly removed the families all the way from Dalton down, and I see no reason why Atlanta should be excepted. Nor is it necessary to appeal to 'the dark history of war,' when recent and modern examples are so handy. You yourself burned dwelling-houses along your parapet; and I have seen, to-day, fifty houses that you have rendered uninhabitable because they stood in the way of your forts and men. You defended Atlanta on a line so close to the town that every cannon-shot and many musket-shots from our line of investment, that overshot their mark, went into the habitations of women and children. General Hardee did the same thing at Jonesboro', and General Johnston did the same last summer at Jackson, Mississippi.
"I have not accused you of heartless cruelty, but merely instance these cases of very recent occurrence, and could go on and enumerate hundreds of others, and challenge any fair man to judge which of us has the heart of pity for the families of 'brave people.' I say it is kindness to these families of Atlanta to remove them at once from scenes that women and children should not be exposed to; and the 'brave people' should scorn to commit their wives and children to the rude barbarians who thus, as you say, violate the rules of war as illustrated in the pages of its 'dark history.'
"In the name of common sense, I ask you not to 'appeal to a just God' in such a sacrilegious manner,—you who in the midst of peaceand prosperity have plunged a nation into war, dark and cruel war; who dared and badgered us into battle; insulted our flag; seized our arsenals and forts that were left in the honorable custody of a peaceful ordnance sergeant; seized and made prisoners even the very first garrisons sent to protect your people against negroes and Indians, long before any other act was committed by the, to you, 'hateful Lincoln government,' tried to force Missouri and Kentucky into rebellion, in spite of themselves; falsified the vote of Louisiana; turned loose your privateers to plunder unarmed ships; expelled Union families by the thousands, burned their houses, and declared by acts of your Congress the confiscation of all debts due Northern men for goods had and received. Talk thus to the Marines, but not to me, who have seen these things, and who will this day make as much sacrifice for the peace and honor of the South as the best-born Southerner among you. If we must be enemies, let us be men, and fight it out as we propose to-day, and not deal in such hypocritical appeals to God and humanity.
"God will judge us in due time, and he will pronounce whether it will be humane to fight with a town full of women and the families of 'a brave people' at our back, or to remove them in time to places of safety among their own friends and people."
Notwithstanding the excesses which were committed by the foragers on Sherman's march from Atlanta to the sea, his army maintained its discipline. The soldiers while in and around Savannah were orderly and quiet. No woman was insulted; there was no debauchery, no breaking open of houses. Citizens could walk the streets and engage in business without molestation. Life and property were respected. General Sherman in his official report thus spoke of the conduct of his soldiers:—
"As to the rank and file, they seem so full of confidence in themselves that I doubt if they want a compliment from me; but I must do them the justice to say that, whether called on to fight, to march, to wade streams, to make roads, clear out obstructions, build bridges, make 'corduroy,' or tear up railroads, they have done it with alacrity and a degree of cheerfulness unsurpassed. A little loose in foraging, they 'did some things they ought not to have done,' yet, on the whole, they have supplied the wants of the army with as little violence as could be expected, and as little loss as I calculated. Some of these foraging parties had encounters with the enemy which would, in ordinary times, rank as respectable battles."The behavior of our troops in Savannah has been so manly, soquiet, so perfect, that I take it as the best evidence of discipline and true courage. Never was a hostile city, filled with women and children, occupied by a large army with less disorder, or more system, order, and good government. The same general and generous spirit of confidence and good feeling pervades the army which it has ever afforded me especial pleasure to report on former occasions."
"As to the rank and file, they seem so full of confidence in themselves that I doubt if they want a compliment from me; but I must do them the justice to say that, whether called on to fight, to march, to wade streams, to make roads, clear out obstructions, build bridges, make 'corduroy,' or tear up railroads, they have done it with alacrity and a degree of cheerfulness unsurpassed. A little loose in foraging, they 'did some things they ought not to have done,' yet, on the whole, they have supplied the wants of the army with as little violence as could be expected, and as little loss as I calculated. Some of these foraging parties had encounters with the enemy which would, in ordinary times, rank as respectable battles.
"The behavior of our troops in Savannah has been so manly, soquiet, so perfect, that I take it as the best evidence of discipline and true courage. Never was a hostile city, filled with women and children, occupied by a large army with less disorder, or more system, order, and good government. The same general and generous spirit of confidence and good feeling pervades the army which it has ever afforded me especial pleasure to report on former occasions."
Although Sherman's army was composed of four corps, the Fourteenth, Fifteenth, Seventeenth, and Twentieth, he had another made up from all of these, which, though unknown in the war office, was of much service to him and of great damage to the enemy. It was known as the "Bummer" Corps. The word is not to be found in either of the American unabridged dictionaries, though it has become historic. Who made it, or how it came into use, is not known. It may have been derived from the wordbum-bailiff, which is a corruption of bound-bailiff, a subordinate civil officer appointed to serve writs and to make executions, and bound with sureties for a faithful discharge of his trust; or frombum-boat, a boat used for conveying provisions, fruit, and supplies from shore to ship. From the two words we get the full meaning of the termBummer.
Sherman could not start from Atlanta with sufficient supplies of bread, meat, and corn for his great march. He must live on the country. Hence he marched in four parallel columns, near enough to aid each other if attacked, yet far enough apart to mow a swath forty or fifty miles in width.
The foraging party, numbering over five thousand, always on the alert, ever in the advance, kept ahead of Kilpatrick with his cavalry.
"If I come to a town or village or plantation, and stop to obtain forage, I find that the infernal bummers have been there," said Kilpatrick.
Having authority to take provisions, the bummers were not tardy in executing their trust. They went in squads, fought the Rebel skirmishers, and defeated Wheeler's cavalry in several encounters. No matter how rich a prize there might be of poultry in a farm-yard, the appearance of a Rebel brought them into line for mutual defence.
Sometimes they came in with a dozen fresh horses loaded withchickens, turkeys, and pigs. In one instance a squad, with live fowls dangling at their saddles, was confronted by Rebel cavalry. They formed in line, fired a volley, and started upon a charge. The galloping of the horses, accompanied by the flapping of wings, the cackling of hens, gobbling of turkeys, and squealing of pigs, stampeded the horses of the enemy, and gave the bummers an easy victory.
Farm wagons were confiscated and filled with provisions,—jars of jelly, preserves, pickles, and honey, baskets of sweet potatoes and legs of bacon. They often rode grandly in family carriages, accompanied by crowds of grinning negroes, who had pointed out the places where the planters had secreted provisions, and who watched for Rebels while the bummer secured his plunder; and then, when the master was out of sight, bid good by forever to the old plantation, and with light hearts leaped the fences, on their way to freedom.
There were two classes of bummers,—the regular soldier of the corps, who kept his comrades well supplied with good things, and the irregular member, whose chief care was to provide for himself.
They were of great service, not only as foragers, but as flankers and scouts, keeping Sherman well informed of the whereabouts of the Rebels. Yet their lawlessness had a demoralizing tendency. Some were tender-hearted, and took only what was needed to eat, while others ransacked houses, ripped open feather-beds, smashed looking-glasses and crockery, and tumbled tables and chairs about unceremoniously, frightening women and children. But a bummer outraging a woman would have been hung by his fellows on the nearest tree, or if not by them he would have had short respite of life from the soldiers in the ranks.
While in Savannah they had no occasion to ply their vocation, as provisions were abundant. Noticing full-grown chickens picking up corn in the streets, I expressed my surprise to an officer of the Twentieth Corps.
"The fact is," he replied, "we have lived on chickens all the way from Atlanta. We have had roast chicken, fried chicken, and stewed chicken, till we are tired of it."
But when Sherman resumed his march through South Carolina,the bummers were keener than ever. The whole army was eager to begin the march. Each regiment, when it crossed the Savannah River, and set foot in South Carolina, gave a cheer. They were in the hot-bed of Secession.
"We'll make South Carolina howl!" they said.
I saw an unoccupied mansion, upon the floors of which were Brussels and tapestry carpeting, and mirrors of French plate-glass adorned the parlor. There was a library with well-filled shelves, and in the drawing-room a costly rosewood piano,—all of which in an hour were licked up by the flames.
Far away to the north, as far as the eye could reach, were pillars of smoke, ascending from other plantations.
"We'll purify their Secession hate by fire," said one.
The soldiers evidently felt that they were commissioned to administer justice in the premises, and commenced by firing the premises of the South Carolinians. They were avengers, and their path through that proud State was marked by fire and desolation. "South Carolina began the Rebellion, and she shall suffer for it. If it had not been for her there would have been no war. She is responsible for all the misery, woe, and bloodshed." Such was the universal sentiment.
Although Sherman's troops carried the torch in one hand and the sword in the other, and visited terrible retribution upon the Rebels, they were quick to relieve the wants of the truly loyal. A few days before reaching Savannah they came to a plantation owned by a man who through all the war had remained faithful to the Union. He had been hunted through the woods with bloodhounds by the Rebel conscript officers. Hearing the Yankees had arrived, he came out from his hiding-place, and joined the Twentieth Corps, with the intention of accompanying it to Savannah. The soldiers made up for him a purse of one hundred and thirty dollars. When it was presented he burst into tears. He could only say, so great was his emotion, "Gentlemen, I most heartily thank you. It is a kindness I never expected. I have been hunted through swamps month after month. My wife and children have been half starved, insulted, and abused, and all because we loved the old flag."
The stories which were told by those refugees, of Union men and conscripts hunted by bloodhounds, of imprisonment and murder by Rebels,—of the sufferings of the Union prisoners at Millen, Libby, Salisbury, and Andersonville,—wrought the soldiers of Sherman's army into a frenzy of wrath against South Carolina.
Mt. Vernon, Edward Everett, The Capitol, Savannah.
Mt. Vernon, Edward Everett, The Capitol, Savannah.
Dec., 1864.
When Sherman's army entered Savannah the people of that city were on the verge of starvation. The Rebel authorities had not accumulated sufficient supplies for a long defence. They were ignorant of the intentions of Sherman when he left Atlanta, and were unable to see through his plan till too late to put the place in condition to withstand a siege. Breastworks were hastily thrown up on the west side of the city. The eastern approaches were strongly protected by a series of forts, turrets, and batteries built by slaves at the beginning of the war, in which were heavy guns commanding the river and the roads. No one had dreamed that the Yankees would come from the west. When Sherman was fairly on his march there was consternation in all the cities along the coast. Charleston expected him. Would he not aim directly toward the cradle of Secession? The people of Mobile believed that the fleet which was gathering in the Gulf was destined to co-operate with the "ruthless invader" in an attack upon them. The inhabitants of Brunswick expected to see him there. The citizens of Savannah were equally alarmed. Proclamations and manifestoes were issued. Governor Brown called upon the Georgians to rise in their might; but their former might was weakness now. They had lost heart. They saw that their cause was failing. Their armies, successful in the beginning, had won no victory for many months. The appeals of the Governor, the manifestoes of the Rebel generals, the calls of municipal authorities, and the exhortations of Davis, awakened no enthusiasm. The planters did not hasten to the rendezvous, nor respond to the call to send provisions. The Rebel quartermasters and commissaries were active in making forced levies, and the conscription bureau was vigilant in bringing in reluctant recruits; but before preparations for defending the city were completed Sherman was thundering at the door.
When he saw the destitution, he made an appeal to the humanity of the people of the North. Boston, New York, and Philadelphia were quick to respond. In Boston thirty thousand dollars were contributed in four days, a steamer chartered, loaded, and despatched on its errand of mercy. The occasion being so unusual, I deemed it worth while to visit Savannah, to be an eye-witness of the reception of the timely and munificent gift.
The employment of the steamer Greyhound on such a mission added to the interest. She was a captured blockade-runner, built at Greenock, Scotland, in 1863, purposely to run the blockade. She made one trip into Wilmington, and was seized while attempting to escape from that port. In every timber, plank, rivet, and brace was England's hatred of the North, support of the South, and cupidity for themselves; but now she carried peace and good-will, not only to the people of Savannah, but to men of every clime and lineage, race and nation. The Greyhound speeding her way was a type and symbol of the American Republic, freighted with the world's best hopes, and sailing proudly forward to the future centuries.
Among the passengers on board at the time of her capture was Miss Belle Boyd, of notoriety as a spy,—bold, venturesome, and dashing, unscrupulous, bitter in her hatred of the Yankees, regardless of truth or honor, if she could but serve the Rebels. She was of great service to them in the Shenandoah. Being within the Union lines, she obtained information which on several occasions enabled Jackson to make those sudden dashes which gave him his early fame.
It was nearly dark on Saturday evening, January 14th, when the Greyhound discharged her pilot off Boston Light. The weather was thick, the wind southeast, but during the night it changed to the northwest and blew a gale. The cold was intense. Sunday morning found us in Holmes's Hole, covered with ice. At noon the gale abated, and we ran swiftly across the Vineyard Sound, shaping our course for Hatteras. Off Charleston we passed through the blockading fleet, which was gayly decorated in honor of the taking of Fort Fisher. The Rebel flag was floating defiantly over Sumter. On Thursday evening wedropped anchor off Port Royal, where a half-day was lost in obtaining permission from the custom-house to proceed to Savannah. The obstructions in Savannah River made it necessary to enter Warsaw Sound and go up Wilmington River. With a colored pilot,—the only one obtainable, recommended by the Harbor-Master of Hilton Head,—the Greyhound put to sea once more, ran down the coast, and on Sunday morning entered the Sound. Our pilot professed to know all the crooks and turns of the river, but suddenly we found ourselves fast on a mud-bank. It was ebb-tide, and the incoming flood floated us again. Then the engines refused to work, the pumps having become foul, and the anchor was dropped just in season to save the steamer from drifting broadside upon a sandbar. It was ten miles to Thunderbolt Battery. The captain of a pilot-boat was kind enough to send Messrs. Briggs and Baldwin, of the committee of the citizens of Boston in charge of the supplies, Mr. Glidden, of the firm owning the Greyhound, and the writer, up to that point. We landed, and stood where the Rebels had made sad havoc of what was once a pleasant village. Some Iowa soldiers, on seediest horses and sorriest mules, were riding round on a frolic. Shiftless, long-haired, red-eyed men and women, lounging about, dressed in coarsest homespun, stared at us. A score of horses and mules were in sight, and here were collected old carts, wagons, and carriages which Sherman's boys had brought from the interior.
"We want to get a horse and wagon to take us to Savannah," said one of the party to a little old man, standing at the door of a house.
"Wal, I reckon ye can take any one of these yere," he said, pointing to the horses and mules. Such animals! Ringboned, spavined, knock-kneed, wall-eyed, sore-backed,—mere hides and bones, some of them too weak to stand, others unable to lie down on account of stiff joints.
"How far is it to Savannah?" we asked of the residents of the village.
"Three miles," said one.
"Two miles and a half, I reckon," said a second.
"Three miles and three quarters," was the estimate of a third person.
A woman, dressed in a plaid petticoat, a snuff-colored linsey-woolsey tunic, with a tawny countenance, black hair, and flashing black eyes, smoking a pipe, said: "I'll tell yer how fur it be. Savannah be a frying-pan and Thunderbolt be the handle, and I live on the eend on it. It be four miles long, zactly."
Two colored soldiers rode up, both on one horse, with "55" on their caps.
"What regiment do you belong to?"
"The Fifty-Fifth Massachusetts."
Their camp was a mile or so up river. A steamboat captain, who wished to communicate with the quartermaster, came upstream in his boat and kindly offered to take us to the Fifty-Fifth. It began to rain, and we landed near a fine old mansion surrounded by live-oaks, their gnarled branches draped with festoons of moss, where we thought to find accommodations for the night; but no one answered our ringing. The doors were open, the windows smashed in; marble mantels, of elaborate workmanship, marred and defaced; the walls written over with doggerel. There were bunks in the parlors, broken crockery, old boots,—débriseverywhere.
The committee took possession of the premises and made themselves at home before a roaring fire, while the writer went out upon a reconnoissance, bringing back the intelligence that the camp of the Fifty-Fifth was a mile farther up the river. It was dark when we reached the hospitable shanty of Lieutenant-Colonel Fox, who, in the absence of Colonel Hartwell, was commanding the regiment, which had been there but twenty-four hours. The soldiers had no tents.
One of the committee rode into Savannah, through a drenching rain, to report to General Grover. The night came on thick and dark. The rain was pouring in torrents. Colonel Fox, with great kindness, offered to escort us to a house near by, where we could find shelter. We splashed through the mud, holding on to each other's coat-tails, going over boots in muddy water, tumbling over logs, losing our way, being scratched by brambles, falling into ditches, bringing up against trees, halting at length against a fence,—following which we reached the house. The owner had fled, and the occupant had moved in because it was a free country and the place was inviting. Hehad no bed for us, but quickly kindled a fire in one of the chambers and spread some quilts upon the floor. "I haven't much wood, but I reckon I can pick up something that will make a fire," said he. Then came the pitch-pine staves of a rice-cask; then a bedstead, a broken chair, a wooden flowerpot!
The morning dawned bright and clear. General Grover sent out horses for us, and so we reached the city after many vexatious delays and rough experiences.
The people in Savannah generally were ready to live once more in the Union. The fire of Secession had died out. There was not much sourness,—less even than I saw at Memphis when that city fell into our hands, less than was manifested in Louisville at the beginning of the war.
At a meeting of the citizens resolutions expressive of gratitude for the charity bestowed by Boston, New York, and Philadelphia were passed, also of a desire for future fellowship and amity.
A store at the corner of Bay and Barnard Streets was taken for a depot, the city canvassed, and a registry made of all who were in want. I passed a morning among the people who came for food. The air was keen. Ice had formed in the gutters, and some of the jolly young negroes, who had provided themselves with old shoes and boots from the camp-grounds of Sherman's soldiers, were enjoying the luxurious pastime of a slide on the ice. The barefooted cuddled under the sunny side of the buildings. There was a motely crowd. Hundreds of both sexes, all ages, sizes, complexions, and costumes; gray-haired old men of Anglo-Saxon blood, with bags, bottles, and baskets; colored patriarchs, who had been in bondage many years, suddenly made freemen; well-dressed women wearing crape for their husbands and sons who had fallen while fighting against the old flag, stood patiently waiting their turn to enter the building, where through the open doors they could see barrels of flour, pork, beans, and piles of bacon, hogsheads of sugar, molasses, and vinegar. There were women with tattered dresses,—old silks and satins, years before in fashion, and laid aside as useless, but which now had become valuable through destitution.
There were women in linsey-woolsey, in negro and gunny cloth, in garments made from meal-bags, and men in Confederate gray and butternut brown; a boy with a crimson plush jacket, made from the upholstering of a sofa; men in short jackets, and little boys in long ones; the cast-off clothes of soldiers; the rags which had been picked up in the streets, and exhumed from garrets; boots and shoes down at the heel, open at the instep, and gaping at the toes; old bonnets of every description, some with white and crimson feathers, and ribbons once bright and flaunting; hats of every style worn by both sexes, palm-leaf, felt, straw, old and battered and well ventilated. One without a crown was worn by a man with red hair, suggestive of a chimney on fire, and flaming out at the top! It was the ragman's jubilee for charity.
One of the tickets issued by the city authorities, in the hand of a woman waiting her turn at the counter, read thus:—
Andersonville, Belle Isle, Libby Prison, Millen, and Salisbury will forever stand in suggestive contrast to this City Store in Savannah, furnished by the free-will offering of the loyal people of the North.
"At Libby," reads the report of the United States Sanitary Committee, "a process of slow starvation was carried on. The corn-bread was of the roughest and coarsest description. Portions of the cob and husk were often found grated in with the meal. The crust was so thick and hard that the prisoners called it 'iron clad.' To render the bread eatable they grated it, and made mush of it; but the crust they could not grate. Now and then, after long intervals, often of many weeks, a little meat was given them, perhaps two or three mouthfuls. At a later period they received a pint of black peas, with some vinegar, every week; the peas were often full of worms, or maggots in a chrysalis state, which, when they made soup, floated on the surface.... But the most unaccountable and shameful act of all was yet to come. Shortly after thisgeneral diminution of rations, in the month of January, the boxes (sent by friends in the North to the prisoners), which before had been regularly delivered, and in good order, were withheld. No reason was given. Three hundred arrived every week, and were received by Colonel Ould, Commissioner of Exchange; but instead of being distributed, they were retained and piled up in warehouses near by, in full sight of the tantalized and hungry captives."[75]
While these supplies were being distributed to the people of Savannah, thirty thousand Union prisoners in the hands of the Rebels in Southwestern Georgia were starving to death,—not from a scarcity of food, but in accordance with a deliberately formed plan to render them unfit for future service in the Union ranks by their inhuman treatment, should they live to be exchanged.
What a page of darkness for the future historian!
On the other hand, the Rebel prisoners in the North received invariably the same rations, in quality and quantity, given to the Union soldiers in the field, with ample clothing, fuel, and shelter. So unexceptional was their treatment, that since the war a Southern writer, desirous of removing the load of infamy resting upon the South, has advertised for statements of unkind treatment in Northern prisons![76]
Of the treatment of Union soldiers in the Southern prisons the United States Sanitary Commission says:—
"The prisoners were almost invariably robbed of everything valuable in their possession; sometimes on the field, at the instant of capture, sometimes by the prison authorities, in a quasi-official way, with the promise of return when exchanged or paroled, but which promise was never fulfilled. This robbery amounted often to a stripping of the person of even necessary clothing. Blankets and overcoats were almost always taken, and sometimes other articles; in which case damaged ones were returned in their stead. This preliminary over, the captives were taken to prison."
At the trial of Wirz, the commandant of Andersonville, Dr. John C. Bates, a surgeon of the Rebel service, testified as follows:—
"My attention was called to a patient in my ward who was only fifteen or sixteen years of age. I took much interest in him, owing to his youth. He would ask me to bring him a potato, bread, or biscuit, which I did. I put them in my pocket. He had scurvy and gangrene. I advised him not to cook the potato, but to eat it raw. He became more and more emaciated, his sores gangrened, and for want of food, and from lice, he died. I understood that it was against orders to take anything in to the prisoners, and hence I was shy in slipping food into my pockets. Others in the ward came to their death from the same causes. When I went there, there were two thousand or two thousand five hundred sick. I judge twenty or twenty-five thousand persons were crowded together. Some had made holes and burrows in the earth. Those under the sheds were doing comparatively well. I saw but little shelter, excepting what ingenuity had devised. I found them suffering with scurvy, dropsy, diarrhœa, gangrene, pneumonia, and other diseases. When prisoners died, they were laid in wagons, head foremost, to be carried off. I don't know how they were buried. The effluvia from the hospital was very offensive. If by accident my hand was abraded, I would not go into the hospital without putting a plaster over the affected part. If persons whose systems were reduced by inanition should by chance stump a toe or scratch the hand, the next report to me was gangrene, so potent was the regular hospital gangrene. The prisoners were more thickly confined in the stockade,—like ants and bees. Dogs were kept to hunt down the prisoners who escaped. Fifty per cent of those who died might have been saved had the patients been properly cared for. The effect of the treatment of the prisoners was, morally as well as physically, injurious. There was much stealing among them. All lived each for himself. I suppose this was superinduced by their starving condition. Seeing the dying condition of some of them, I remarked to my student, 'I can't resuscitate them; the weather is chilling; it is a matter of impossibility.' I found persons lying dead sometimes among the living. Thinking they merely slept, I went to wake them up and found they had taken their everlasting sleep. This was in the hospital. I judge it was about the same in the stockade. There being no dead-house, I erected a tent for the purpose, but I soon found that a blanket or quilt had been clipped off the canvas; and as the material could not be readily supplied, the dead-house was abandoned. I don't think any more dead-houses were erected. The daily ration was less in September, October, November, and December than it was from the 1st of January to the 20th of March. The men had not over twenty ounces of food in the twenty-four hours."
The prison at Andersonville was established in January,1864, and was used a little more than a year. It was in the form of a quadrangle, 1,295 feet long, 865 feet wide. A small stream, rising from neighboring springs, flowed through the grounds. Within the enclosure, seventeen feet from the stockade, the dead-line was established, marked by small posts, to which a slight strip of board was nailed. Upon the inner stockade were fifty-two sentry-boxes, in which the guards stood with loaded muskets; while overlooking the enclosure were several forts, with field artillery in position, to pour grape and canister upon the perishing men at the first sign of insurrection.
Miss Clara Barton, the heroic and tender-hearted woman who, in the employ of government, visited this charnel-house to identify the graves of the victims, thus reports:—
"Under the most favorable circumstances and best possible management the supply of water would have been insufficient for half the number of persons who had to use it. The existing arrangements must have aggravated the evil to the utmost extent. The sole establishments for cooking and baking were placed on the bank of the stream immediately above and between the two inner lines of the pallisades. The grease and refuse from them were found adhering to the banks at the time of our visit. The guards, to the number of three thousand six hundred, were principally encamped on the upper part of the stream, and when the heavy rains washed down the hillsides covered with thirty thousand human beings, and the outlet below failed to discharge the flood which backed and filled the valley, the water must have become so foul and loathsome that every statement I have seen of its offensiveness must fall short of the reality; and yet within rifle-shot of the prison flowed a stream, fifteen feet wide and three feet deep, of pure, delicious water. Had the prison been placed so as to include a section of 'Sweet Water Creek,' the inmates might have drank and bathed to their hearts' content."[77]
The prisoners had no shelter from the fierce sun of summer, the pelting autumn rains, or the cold of winter, except a few tattered tents. Thousands were destitute of blankets. For refuge they dug burrows in the ground.
Miss Barton says:—