Buntyn Station. Warm and pleasant.
Orders to hold ourselves in readiness to march at a moment's warning. Went out
with Evans to forage. Got some sweet potatoes from a citizen. Drew soft bread
at the quartermaster's taken from Memphis. Sad news from Vicksburg. Sherman's
forces withdrawn to Napoleon. Health better. Drilled on the piece.
SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 26
Knoxville. Thanks to Almighty God—and
General Grant the crisis is passed. General Sherman arrived on the 5th inst.,
but Longstreet had fled, and he returned immediately to Chattanooga. Nobody
seems to know the exact date of Longstreet's withdrawal. Our forces were sent
out in pursuit yesterday, the 7th inst., but no enemy could be found. We have
passed through a terrible ordeal. Twenty days and nights under fire. Twenty
days with death or surrender staring us in the face and surrender meant
Andersonville, a fate worse than death. On our retreat from Lenoir we were
compelled to leave most of our wounded. We have recovered our own and about
three hundred wounded Rebels.
SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a
Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 130-1
My Dear Sister: The wind is now so strong and fair that we have hopes of reaching Valparaiso in about ten days, and, as our stay there will be too short to gratify curiosity and write letters too, I must prepare them beforehand. We sailed from Rio on the evening of the 21st of September, and ran down the coast of South America with nothing to disturb the usual monotony of a sea life till, on the twenty-first day out, we made Statenland, an island to the north and east of Cape Horn. It had become cold, and the bleak mountains, covered with snow, looked desolate enough. Soon they were sunken beneath the horizon, and our vessel felt the majestic swell of the Pacific. We were then in the sea so much dreaded by sailors, but a bright sun made us for the day think the dangers like most others, more imaginary than real. We were soon undeceived, for the southwest wind arose, driving us to the eastward amidst a conflict of waves such as I had never seen before. For twelve days we struggled with the storm, snow, ice, and cold, and when the wind lulled, we found that no progress had been made. A favoring breeze then enabled us to reach Cape Horn, with its snow-capped rocks, and we passed quite near it, with a clear sky and bright sun overhead. We began to flatter ourselves that it was done with us, but we were again mistaken; for a northwester began and served us more rudely than its predecessor. For another twelve days it was one continued struggle for mastery, and really it seemed more than once as though the ship must be swamped. All hands were completely exhausted; our Captain Baily of the navy has made the passage some ten or twelve times, and the purser still oftener, and each say they never encountered so heavy a sea or such persevering head gales. Often our decks were covered with ice and snow, the rigging dangling with icicles, whilst the wind moaned and whistled as in our western woods. I will not attempt to give you an idea of the height or force of the waves, — words are inadequate to convey a true idea, and one must expеrience them to feel their full force. I trust, however, you may never have to seek such experience. Yesterday, however, the observation of the sun placed us in 54° 40' or north of Cape Horn, whose latitude is 55° 59', or we had been twenty-six days south of the Cape passing through a distance we might return in less than two. Our course on the chart is jagged and crooked enough; the farthest south latitude we made was 59°. Here it is now spring and the days very long. I have seen the sun rise before four in the morning and set after eight, with twilight extending nearly the whole night. Were we to remain here a month longer, we might see the sun throughout twenty hours out of twenty-four. Travellers always allude to the strangeness of seeing the sun to the north, new constellations in the sky, etc., but education explains causes, removes mystery, and strips travelling of nearly all its ancient zest. The constellation of the Southern Cross is composed of four stars that are not very conspicuous. You may look up any night and see the same in any latitude. The Magellan clouds are three small patches of nebulæ like the Milky Way. They are near the South Pole, and cannot, of course, be seen in the northern hemisphere. In no other respect does this part of the world differ from any other, for the sea, monotonous sea, is the same everywhere, differing only according to the freshness of the breeze. The little world, bounded by the walls of our ship, continues the same limited monarchy, with its grades and distinctions. The captain in his cabin, the officers in the wardrooms, and sailors and soldiers forward. Of the three, ours, being the middle rank, is doubtless the most pleasant, for it embraces eleven in number, with books, cards, and music. We are thrown into the most intimate contact, and thus far have not suffered from a feeling of jealousy that is very apt to arise among officers of different services. Strange, too, for it is an imperium in imperio. We are passengers, having our soldiers under one species of command—the naval officers are on duty with the sailors. We are bound to do nothing, but still do make one-fourth of our men stay on deck all the time to assist in working the ship, for the crew is very short. Such a mixture of duties seldom prospers, but here, by a good understanding on the part of the officers, we have had no trouble at all, all feeling our mutual dependence. Since we have been off the Cape it has been so cold that we have been compelled to wrap up and keep more to ourselves in our staterooms, sleeping or reading, the former having the preference — the better the sleeper, the happier the man. Never was time more perfectly sacrificed, for we have been afloat near four months, and now, for the first time, we head towards our destination, after having sailed about nine thousand or ten thousand miles. If you hear about a subscription opening to dig a canal across the Isthmus of Panama, you may put me down any amount, for really I do not fancy a voyage of twenty-four thousand miles to accomplish a distance of less than two thousand. However, I do not permit myself to dream of a return to the United States for five or six years, when I hope to pass through Mexico. We are all most anxious to hear the state of the war. How many fights have been had, how the volunteers act, how General Kearny progresses, for we expect him to be in California this winter; yea, and a thousand other things that will be old before they reach our ears, for our own slow progress teaches us how slow and uncertain is communication by sea, to which we shall have mainly to rely for news and letters. The long, tedious time on board ship has given us ample time to reflect upon the past and make me feel a little astonished at my rapid movement from Pittsburgh. There I was well off, but, impelled by a feeling of shame at leading so quiet a life when my comrades were at war, I wrote to the Adjutant-General, requesting him to order me upon any expedition, — the more hazardous, the more it would be to my liking. This letter was before him when Captain Tompkins, without my knowledge, made application for me. The coincidence produced the result, and I was ordered. My order reached Pittsburgh when I was absent of my own accord, so that when I reached Pittsburgh I found that the expedition would sail immediately; I started without regard to private risk or interest lest I should be too late and lose a reputation for prompt and willing obedience of dangerous orders. I wish now I had been more slow and made better preparations for so long an absence, but it is now too late and I must trust to fortune. I repeat these things that they may be known in case of accident to me. I cannot imagine now how I was so hasty at Pittsburgh, except that then I had an idea that we were to land in California to act offensively with a battery instead of being planted to grow rusty and old in one place till Government be good enough to recall us. The only objects of life and curiosity in this region of earth are the whales and birds; the former do not show themselves often, but are known by the peculiar misty spout of water made as they rise to the surface for breath; but the birds are seen in a clearer element; they crowd in flocks all around the ship, following it for days and weeks, pouncing upon every piece of pork or bread that is thrown overboard. This greediness makes them an easy prey, for, with a baited hook and line, they are easily caught, and I don't know when I have had a more hearty laugh than at the simple idea of fishing for birds; but the idea is now a fact, having myself caught of all kinds. The most peculiar of them is the Cape pigeon, a beautiful, innocent bird exactly like a tame pigeon, except that it sits the water like a duck, and has webbed feet; but the albatross, the huge bird of the Cape, is more to my liking, and seems so perfectly indignant at being caught by stratagem. There are of these several varieties, the gray, the quaker (color) and white; the latter is the largest, measuring as much as twelve feet from wing to wing; their bodies are white and as large as a swan, and the spread of their wings great indeed. They soar about, scarcely moving a feather, just above the surface of the water, and, let the sea be as agitated as possible, they rise and fall with the huge waves, moving along them like a spirit upon the face of the waters. To the soldier officers catching these birds, the sailors, ever superstitious, attribute our hard luck in passing the Cape.
SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 31-6
The Rebs in front of us fired but little during the night, they shelled our working party at the 6 gun battery close by us from the mortar battery. In the Afternoon, I worked the men some. The Rebs were quieter than usual all day, our batteries give them a few rounds in the evening. After dark the mortar battery of the Rebs opens on our working party again. Several bombs are thrown at it by our mortar batteries. Some think by the signs of the times that the Jonnies are silently leaving the place, the news from Grant Sherman & Thomas is good, in honor of which successes by order of Genl Canby a salute of 100 guns is fired by the Gunboats & the land batteries. I am told by those who had an opportunity to know, that during the cannonading the evening of the 4th something blew up in Spanish fort throwing 5 men 10 or 15 ft above the work. Men on picket that night say they said 16 men carried out of the same fort & buried. The battery men say the cannonading killed & wounded 100 rebels. I dont know how they get their information. I am relieved at 8. P. M. by co "C" & march the co to camp, find supper ready. Temp & I put up our tent gather bedding and retire at 11. P. M. at which hour shells are flying freely on the right & centre.
SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, Thirty-Third Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, Vol. XIII, No. 8, Third Series, Des Moines, April 1923, pp. 584-5
Spend most of day writing, at 12. m. a salute of 200 guns fired by order of Genl Canby in honor of the surrender of Genls Lee to Grant & Genl Jonston to Sherman, Maury is reported in camp 40 miles from here & Meridian is in the hands of the yankees, take a stroll this evening, find the whole army in fine spirits & it is reported that Col Forest has surrendered at Memphis. weather very warm.
SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, Thirty-Third Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, Vol. XIII, No. 8, Third Series, Des Moines, April 1923, p. 592
Rec orders to be ready for the road at 12. m. with 4 days rations officers & men. at noon rec orders to be ready at 6. a. m. tomorrow. It is reported that a fort on the Tombigbee has surrendered to Smith on same conditions Grant gave Lee. Flag of truce in from Genl Dick Taylor, Business not known. Lt Loughridge & I take a walk after supper. call on Lt Hook we talk with a deserter just arrived who says the Rebel reports are that Lee left Richmond in 3 columns commanded by Genls Lee, Bushrod Johnston & Ewell. Lees column was captured. The others escaped & joining Jo Jonston make a combined attack on Sherman capturing 18,000 prisoners. That all the forces in this Dept. are concentrated at Meridian under Taylor. That Thomas captured Montgomery. That Kirby Smith has 80.000 men in Texas & intends to take them to Missouri.
SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, Thirty-Third Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, Vol. XIII, No. 8, Third Series, Des Moines, April 1923, pp. 592-3
The Div gets in about 10, A. M. by land, our camp is made permanent & the officers of the Left wing quarter in a double log cabin near by busy all P. M fixing up. The news is officially announced once more that Genl Jo Jonston has surrendered 30,000 men to Genl Sherman.
SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, Thirty-Third Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, Vol. XIII, No. 8, Third Series, Des Moines, April 1923, p. 595
My friend Miss O. is quite ill. We fear it may prove typhoid fever. Shall not enter the school again until she is better.
Last evening, had just seated myself to write to Mrs. Bickerdyke who had promised me a situation in Huntsville, Alabama, when she and Mrs. Jeremiah Porter, of Chicago, arrived on train from that place, bound for the front of Sherman's army, if they can procure passes.
To-day at dinner table, heard Rev. Dr. Thompson, of New York city, say that he saw 8,000 men march through the streets of Paris, at that farce entitled the election of Napoleon. I expressed my idea of the grand sight to Mrs. B. when she said that was not equal to what may be seen now. That there are "twice that number marching to the front now." "Is there?" was the surprised inquiry.
"Yes," she replied, "why don't you read the papers? You ignorant women in the army do ask such foolish questions!" This is her style of speech, but she is a perfect hero in the army, among sick soldiers.
It seems that not long since she solicited and obtained contributions of fruit and vegetables for the soldiers who are suffering with scrofulous diseases for want of them. Some have arrived at this place, which she had ordered to be sent to Huntsville. She had left word while here some time since, with Colonel, or Captain Somebody, whose duty it was to attend to the matter, to forward them immediately upon their arrival. She also wrote the same from Huntsville, and still the fruits and vegetables came not, although she had learned of their arrival at this city, while the sick men in the hospital were suffering for the want of the vegetables, which were wasting from decay. This morning, she sallied out to ferret out the matter. In an hour or two she came capering into our room, where Mrs. P. was writing, and swinging her bonnet by the string, exclaimed:
"There, I've done it! I've said it! I've had it all my own way, for you wasn't there—addressing Mrs. P.—, to nudge my elbow and whisper 'be careful now, don't say too much,' or to tell the one I'm talking to 'Oh, she don't mean that.' Why what do you think I found?" she continued. I found those cars of vegetables moved on to a side track to spoil for days, while some of these officers have been sending on their fine furniture to keep house with, down to Huntsville. And after finding this out, I went to the office of this fine gentleman in shoulder-straps, and told him to send on those things in double quick-time, or I'd have his official head taken off. And I asked him if it needed a Miss Nancy to come and tell Miss Betty what her duty was, before she could do it."
SOURCE: Elvira J. Powers, Hospital Pencillings: Being a Diary While in Jefferson General Hospital, Jeffersonville, Ind., and Others at Nashville, Tennessee, as Matron and Visitor, pp. 74-5
McPherson's army
corps guard this place (Vicksburg) while Sherman has gone after the rebel
General Joe Johnston who is reported as being in the neighborhood of Jackson,
Mississippi, with an army. The prisoners here are to be paroled and sent into
the Confederacy. My time is taken up with visiting points of interest,
particularly the caves in the sides of the hills where the citizens took refuge
when they had a bombardment and where many of them slept at night. Many houses
show the marks of shells, some being completely riddled, yet I am surprised to
see so little damage is done. Some of the caves were made very comfortable,
people living in them almost altogether during the whole siege.
SOURCE: Joseph
Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph
Stockton, p. 20
FORT MOULTRIE, S. C., May 23, 1843.
My Dear Brother:
*
* * * * * * * * *
Leaving the seasons
to look after themselves, I'll try and give you an idea of how our days pass in
a garrison like this. Here at Fort Moultrie we have about 250 soldiers, divided
into four companies. These are quartered some inside the wall, some outside.
All the unmarried officers—
eight of us—live
inside; all the married, five, outside. This being the headquarters of the
regiment, we have the Colonel and his band of about fifteen instruments. Every morning
at daylight all get up at reveille, attend a drill, either as infantry or
artillery, at sunrise; breakfast at seven, have a dress parade at eight, and
half an hour after the new guard takes the place of the old one,—а new officer
relieving the old one. After that each one kills time to suit himself till
reveille of next morning commences the new routine. Thus it is every fair day
except Sunday, when we have an extra quantity of music, parade, and inspection
in honor of the day and to keep our men in superfine order at church. Thus, you
see that every day at nine o'clock and after we have nothing to do but amuse
ourselves. Some read, some write, some loaf, and some go to the city. For the
latter class a barge is in attendance, going and coming. Although six miles
from a city, we have all its advantages, whilst separated from its annoying
noises, taxes, and expenses. . . . During the past winter I have been at North
Carolina twice, at Savannah once, and at Charleston some hundred times. The
fact is, in the summer time we are so enveloped with citizens that we have to
make acquaintances whether or no. When they move to Charleston and the country,
they send invitations which must be accepted, or give offence. The consequence
was that two or more of us had to go constantly as representatives of the
whole,—always in rotation, unless duty or pleasure coincided, when a greater
number would cross the water. These parties are very various, from the highly
aristocratic and fashionable, with sword and epaulettes, or horse-racing,
picnicing, boating, fishing, swimming, and God knows what not. A life of this
kind does well enough for a while, but soon surfeits with its flippancy,—mingling
with people in whom you feel no permanent interest, smirks and smiles when you
feel savage, tight boots when your fancy would prefer slippers. I want relief,
and unless they can invent a new Florida war I'll come back and spend a few
months with you in Ohio. But as my visits have been, heretofore, in the spring
and summer, I'll wait for the fall this time, when I hope once more to see you
all at home and Mansfield both. . . .
SOURCE: Rachel
Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between
General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 22-4
FORT MOULTRIE, S.C., Jan. 19, 1844.
My Dear Brother:
It was about the middle of November, and on one of those mornings so peculiar
to your atmosphere, that I deposited my bones in the Chilicothe stage. I went
to Portsmouth, thence down the Ohio to Cincinnati, where I remained with Lamp a
couple of days, and then took my departure for St. Louis in the steamboat Manhattan,
loaded with every species of animal from men to Durham cattle. There were more
than 200 souls on board a second-class boat, from which circumstance you can
readily infer that the bodily comforts were not well cared for. Yet I was much
pleased. Louisville, at which we stopped several hours, is a beautiful place;
in fact, the whole river realized my wildest conceptions. In six days we
reached St. Louis, which, you know, is trying to rival our queen city; but,
although it has great merits and beauty beside a population of 30,000 people,
it has not that fixed and solid appearance that Cincinnati now wears as an
established city of business and manufacture. I spent ten days in and near St.
Louis, after which I embarked in a new and very fine boat, called the John Aull,
for New Orleans. . . . The trip cannot fail to interest one who has never been
in the South, but, as I was familiar there, it could not produce its full
effect. Imagine yourself, as I was, at the mouth of the Ohio in a heavy
snowstorm, the shores clothed in ghost-like garb; the following day the snow is
no longer seen, and before another day passes by the shores are clothed here and
there in green corn and grass. Soon the oak appears with its green leaves, then
the magnolia, orange, etc., and soon you find yourself down between the rich
sugar-fields of Louisiana, the stalks ungathered and waving beautifully and
luxuriantly in the breeze. . . . At Mobile I took a steamboat and ascended the
Alabama River to a town called Montgomery. There, on a vehicle called a car on
what was denominated a railroad to a town called Franklin, from which place I
staged it over roads such as you have about Mansfield, except the clay is
slipperier, the hills shorter and steeper, and the drivers such as can be had
nowhere else. Thus I went 120 miles to a town in Georgia called Griffin. Here I
waited twenty-four hours for the cars, which had as usual run off the track.
However, they came at last, and we started towards Macon, a distance of only
sixty miles, which it took us twelve hours to accomplish. However, at Macon I
found a well-finished railroad which led to Savannah, a distance of 190 miles,
over which we passed in exactly the same time that it took us the day before to
accomplish the sixty. From Savannah to Charleston I had the regular steamboat.
Thus it has taken me the whole sheet to give you an outline of my journey, the
details of which volumes would scarcely record. At last, on the 27th of
December, after an absence of five months and two days, I stood once more in my
old quarters at Ft. Moultrie. Since my return the weather has been so bright
and delightful that I have almost renounced all allegiance to Ohio, although it
contains all whom I love and regard as friends. I have been so busy of late
that I have not even been to Charleston to see my old acquaintances, and could
only steal time the other day to accept an invitation of some planters on an adjacent
island to participate in a fox hunt and the consequent dinner and frolic.
[W. T. Sherman]
SOURCE: Rachel
Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between
General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 24-6
FORT MOULTRIE, S.C., Oct. 24, 1844.
My Dear Brother: . . . What in the devil are you doing? Stump
speaking! I really thought you were too decent for that, or at least had
sufficient pride not to humble and cringe to beg party or popular favor.
However, the coming election will sufficiently prove the intelligence and
patriotic spirit of the American people, and may deter you from committing a
like sin again. . . . For my part, I wish Henry Clay to be elected, and should
rejoice in his success, for various reasons, but I do not permit myself to
indulge in sanguine feelings when dependence has to be placed on the
pitch-and-toss game of party elections.
*
* * * * * * * * *
I rejoice in the
winter period of relaxation to enable me to devote more time to reading. Look
out that I don't turn out a pettifogging lawyer, and rival you in fame at some
cross-roads in the Far West. . . .
Let me conclude by
hoping that you will now in the outset of life do all things in your power to
advance your interest and fame, and to neglect no chance to better your
fortune. . . .
SOURCE: Rachel
Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between
General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 26-7
SMITHVILLE, N.C., April 4, 1845.
My Dear Brother:
I am going to return to Charleston to-night by sea, and expect to be turned
wrong side out, as the wind is blowing a half gale. I have been to Wilmington
in this State to stand by a young friend who exchanged the independence of the
bachelor for the charms of Governor Dudley's daughter. We had a brilliant
wedding,— dinner-parties and balls for three days, — when I came here to see a
friend, and will now go home by the first steamboat that comes along. . . . I
expect upon my arrival at Ft. Moultrie to find a letter from mother and
yourself, and if I do not — good-by, for devil the word has reached me from
Mansfield for four months. Love to all. Smithville is on the Cape Fear River,
near the outlet.
Your affectionate
brother,
W. T. SHERMAN.
SOURCE: Rachel
Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between
General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, p. 27
AUGUSTA ARSENAL, GA., Aug. 29, 1845.
My Dear Brother:
*
* * * * * * * * *
I got back from Key
West earlier than I anticipated by taking advantage of a small pilot boat that
happened to be going to Charleston from Key West. In it we returned in four
days, which contrasted somewhat with the passage out of eighteen days; but the Gulf
Stream was favorable in the first instance, but not in the latter. A few days
ago I was ordered here and assigned to duty with the company that occupies the
arsenal, and on the same day an order arrived from Washington for one more
company to sail for Arkansas Bay. Everybody supposed the Colonel would send the
company to which I belonged, because we, its officers, are all young and
unmarried, whereas the others were all differently situated; but in army
affairs age has precedence of merit, and an older Captain Burke was sent,
leaving us again behind. There are still two companies at Ft. Moultrie; and in
case of a requisition for more men, we, or rather my old company, will
certainly go, in which case I have the Colonel's promise that speedy notice
will be given me, and I be ordered to go along. Also I am promised to go in
case this company goes, thus securing two chances, which will inevitably enable
me to go to Texas, in case more troops be required, and then most heartily will
I give all the aid I can to further the views of Government to extend the
"Area of Freedom." . . . As to Texas having been annexed for the sole
purpose of extending slavery, I do not believe. Some politicians may do so, and
abolitionists may act upon that decision and affect it; but if matters be
permitted to take a natural course, the result will be as surely the reverse as
water flows down hill.
SOURCE: Rachel
Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between
General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, p. 28
FORT MOULTRIE, S.C., Jan. 4, 1846.
My Dear Brother: I
had to go to North Carolina on a wedding tour at Christmas time, and as soon as
I got back I went to a plantation, not very far off, to spend the New Year. I
am pretty well acquainted with all the rich people round about, and have from
them enough invitations for the balance of the winter. It is a great relief
occasionally to slip off from our monotonous drill and duty to ramble among the
green and noble live oaks—the most magnificent evergreen in our forest. Then
again, the planters have plenty to eat and drink, and can, without seeming
inconvenience, entertain any number of straggling acquaintances. When we expect
any assemblage large enough to dance, we take along four or five musicians from
our band, which makes us doubly welcome during the Christmas holidays. The
people here were not a little alarmed about war, for it would at once crush
their prosperous rice and cotton trade—the only articles of trade here.
Moreover, the English, in case of war, would doubtless do all they could to
make the slaves rise and would supply them with the necessary arms and
ammunition to make them really formidable. I have never seen the least sign of
disaffection on the part of the negroes, and have seen them in the cotton field
and rice ditches, met them hunting at all hours of day and on the road at
night, without anything but "How d'ye, Massa? Please give me some
bac." However, it is easy, no doubt, to make them believe they can own the
fields and houses they now see, and to excite them to resort to means that
would even astonish their provokers; but I have heard but one or two who in
conversation would admit even such danger in case of war; but all admit that
the price of negroes would so fall as inevitably to destroy such as would be
compelled to sell such property, such as estates to be divided among
children, etc. There would be no difficulty in taking Charleston—our fort is weak
and has only about 100 men—it is not ditched or strengthened in such a way as
to defy an assault. A new fort is being built in the channel which, when done,
will be very strong, but its walls are as yet barely out of water. The
Charlestonians have such confidence in Mr. Calhoun, who is decidedly opposed to
war, that since his arrival they have no apprehension. All here think that such
resolutions as Mr. Hannigan introduced in the Senate, and such speeches as were
made by Allen and Cass will cause immediate war for which no preparations are
in progress, or even contemplated. If war takes place, I shall do all I can to
better my future and rank, but if it slides by, as other rumors have, I must
remain contented with my present commission. . . .
SOURCE: Rachel
Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between
General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 29-30
And later, still
hoping to be sent to Texas, he writes:
Direct a letter to
me, if you want to write, at Fort Columbus, New York Harbor. It should reach
there at or before the 1st of May or I won't get it. Tell me then whether your
railroad is done from the lake, and what conveniences there are to reach
Columbus, for it is in the reach of probability that I may receive orders for
New Orleans or Texas, and be allowed to steer my own course, in which case I
might give you a hasty call, if it wouldn't delay me too long. . . .
SOURCE: Rachel
Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between
General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 30-1
Edward D. Kittoe, M.
D., of Galena, Ill., died on Friday, September 29th, in the seventy-fourth year
of his age. The deceased was a native of England and was graduated in 1841 from
the Pennsylvania Medical College, an institution that was closed in 1861. After
practicing his profession for several years in Muncy, Pa., he moved, in 1851,
to Galena. In 1862 he was appointed surgeon in the Forty-fifth Regiment of
Illinois Volunteers, and in the same year was commissioned a surgeon in the
United States Volunteers and served on the staff of General Sherman until 1864.
He was subsequently on the staff of General Grant until appointed a medical
inspector and reassigned to General Sherman's staff. After the fall of Atlanta
he was appointed medical inspector to the Department of the Northwest, and in
December, 1865, was mustered out of the service with the brevet rank of Colonel
of United States Volunteers. During his residence in Pennsylvania he was a
member of the State Medical Society, and one of its vice-presidents in
1850-'51.
SOURCE: Frank P. Foster, M. D., Editor, The New York Medical Journal, a Weekly Review of Medicine, Vol. 46, July to December, 1887, Inclusive, p. 409 (New York, Saturday October 8, 1887)
I have this moment
(10½ A.M.) arrived here at the General's Headquarters and finding him gone down
town improve the minutes till he returns by sending a word to you. I am
perfectly well, and in the best spirits—have had a very quick, pleasant and
fortunate trip though with just enough "roughness" to make it spicy:
met nor heard of any guerrillas on the road, save the evidences of where they
had recently been along, and have had good luck and good company all the way. I
was very sorry to write you so hurriedly from Nashville and Chattanooga, but it
was something to do that: and you must take it for granted once for all . . .
that when I write thus, and if I do not always write often, it is because one
cannot always do as they would "in the field."
I met Fullerton,† as
I mentioned, at Chattanooga, a fortunate encounter and very jolly for us both.
His (4th) Corps arrived there that (Sunday) morning and was passing through
westward while we were there, which was only for an hour. My note thence to you
was written in the open air, sitting on my valise with a pile of other baggage,
on a piece of paper lent me by a friend. By the way Margie's‡ nice portfolio is
locked, and I don't find the key yet—but I'll get it opened soon. Tell M. that
I found time to open my valise and make a formal presentation of the sword; tell
her it was done in the presence of hundreds if not thousands of officers and
soldiers (entre nous they were all minding their own business and the
"presence" means a radius of a ½ mile) that I made an eloquent and
inspiring speech, but omitted to mention the donor's name, and that the gallant
Colonel was so overcome by his feelings that he made no reply at all but to say
that (being in a hurry) he would postpone that to another
occasion.
I do not yet know
what my duties will be, nor will till I see the General, but find that they
will not be those of Judge Advocate, for there are none such to do, now at
least, on this staff. So much the better. Gen. Sherman asked for me, and if he
can't find something for me to do I'm mistaken and it's none of my business
anyhow.
Don't
"you'uns" fret about Hood, not a bit. The story is that he has
crossed the Tennessee, -for which if true we are understood to be very much obliged
to him. Lt. Col. Kittoe,1 (Med. Director on Gen. S's staff) just
said to me that Hood's late movement north had been a faux pas,
and of more good to us than him; and if I was a prophet I should tell you,
probably, that within the next fortnight Hood will hear news from below that
may make him wish he had staid there. However, once for all, for obvious
reasons, I do not expect to deal in predictions. Letters sometimes miscarry,
and predictions sometimes do harm where it was not intended.
I am glad to find
that my "transportation"—one valise and one roll of bedding—is
universally pronounced very moderate and entirely within bounds; also my French
cot is greatly admired for convenience and compactness. I was indebted to it
last night for a comfortable bed at Kingston in a room 10 ft. 5 in. x 9 ft. 3
in. (by measurement), which had bare walls and floor for furniture and which
four of us were very lucky to get control of. More than that, seventeen of us,
officers en route for Headquarters were thoroughly grateful to the Agent of the
U. S. Sanitary Commission at Kingston for a most welcome supper, after all
other chances had failed, served on tin plates and tin cups, and consisting of
fat bacon, boiled beef (cold) in "chunks," dried apple sauce and
baked beans, with what was understood to be coffee, and being brown and warm,
was undoubtedly such. So a meeting was duly organized, and as Chairman of a
"Committee on Resolution" I submitted one the original draft of which
is inclosed and which was adopted nem.
con.
After the rest left
I wanted to pay the Agent something—he wouldn't touch it. I then insisted that
I had a right to subscribe to the funds of the Sanitary Commission at Kingston
as well as at New York, for the benefit of the soldiers, but he couldn't see
that either, and refused positively anything whatever under any pretext. What
must these men do for the soldiers when their kindness comes so welcome to
officers.
. . . I cannot tell
you how I rejoice to have entered the service. I understand perfectly well, did
so before, and cannot do so more truly hereafter, what its realities are. I
have no boyish impulse or nonsense about it, but the satisfaction of hoping to
do a manly part and share the risks which these men take. It was a singular
thing to be and travel with the men I was with, most of them, as it happened,
younger than I, who have been in the service one, two and three years, and to
whom the names of events and places which to us are only historic, are the
mementoes of their own experience. I have been fortunate in meeting in almost
every case, quiet, manly pleasant fellows who made no pretense, and had no brag
about them. I have uniformly been received and treated with frank and pleasant
courtesy, and though I felt like being very quiet with men who had seen and
done what I have only read of, nothing in their manner or words claimed any
merit. Of course this was right and all that; but it is creditable too.
I have even more
reason than I knew of to be glad of an appointment on Sherman's Staff, among
others, it implies facilities in the way of sending and getting letters and
packages which I might not have elsewhere.
At Nashville I was
lucky to be just in time to come down with one of the General's special
messengers, bringing down his mail and sundry boxes, etc., for his staff-a good
fellow, quick, ready and smart, as well as knowing his place. I have made a
friend of him and shall need his services.
As I wrote before,
address all letters and everything for me to "Headquarters of The Military
Division of the Mississippi, Nashville,
Tenn." They will be all attended to there. And remember that when an army
and its Headquarters are moving, it is no easy matter always either to send
things from or to the same, even for the General himself. The Headquarters
which are here today may be somewhere else tomorrow (will be somewhere else very soon)—and even our special messenger
had to telegraph ahead from Chattanooga Sunday morning to Rome, to learn by a
dispatch which met us at Kingston, whether we should come here or go on direct
to Atlanta to find these same "Headquarters." So you must not think
it strange if you hear from me irregularly, and what troubles me is that I can
hear from you only at intervals. But well you know that while I am here hoping
to serve my country it is you who are to me the visible embodiment of what
hallows that name.
It is plain enough
and sad enough to see that this region is and has been the seat of war. I wish
I had time to describe to you the scenes I have already looked on,—I do not
mean, of course, any of the active scenes of war, but its visible results.
Houses in towns and by the roadside of which only charred timbers and ruins are
left; buildings converted into fortifications by embankments, and their brick
walls pierced for musketry; and all along the railroad from Greysville, Ga., to
near Kingston the half burnt ties, and bent and twisted rails lying by the
newly built track, as well as the new watertanks and new timber, etc., in
bridges, telling of the destruction which only two or three weeks ago Hood
vainly thought would "coop up" Sherman and result in all sorts of
terrible things. But somehow it didn't work. I do not wonder at the intense and
universal admiration his soldiers feel for "Uncle Billy."
I find another thing
everywhere, that so far as I can learn by inquiry, and from conversation both
with and between others, one in ten would be a large estimate of the McClellan
men in the army. This is true even of the New Jersey regiments, of which there
are three or four in this army.
I must close this to
be sure of sending it back by today's messenger. I will write whenever I can,
and how I hope and long to hear from you and all of the dear ones at home. Give
them my dear love, and kind words to friends who may inquire for me. Pray for
me that I may do my duty to God and man; trust in God, and believe me ever and
always in truest devotion
* It was Maj.
Hitchcock's habit to write on letter paper bearing this printed heading, here reproduced
once for all.
† Bvt. Brig.
Gen. Joseph S. Fullerton, Chief of Staff, Fourth Army Corps.
‡Mrs. Hitchcock's
younger sister, Margaret Collier, afterwards Mrs. Ethan Allen Hitchcock.
1 Edward D. Kittoe.
SOURCE: M. A.
DeWolfe Howe, Editor, Marching With
Sherman, Passages from the Letters and Campaign Diaries of Henry Hitchcock,
Major and Assistant Adjutant General of Volunteers, November 1864—May 1865,
pp. 15-19
Am expecting soon to
go to Huntsville, Alabama, as hospital nurse. Should have gone four days since,
had not Gen Sherman closed the way against everybody and everything except
soldiers, rations, gunpowder and pontoon bridges. The road has been crowded
with those for a week past. A great battle is expected to come off very soon,
some where at the front. The Government has been pressing horses of every
description into the service to-day. The streets have been crowded with teams
marked "United States Transfer," those of "Q. M. D." and
ammunition wagons.
This evening 600
horses have gone past our door, en route for the front, where
they are to act as scouts, I understand not the horses, though, I believe, but
their riders.
General Sherman,
himself, left for the front to-day noon. During this time of waiting for a
pass, rather than remain idle, and also for the purpose of picking up some
grains of knowledge with regard to the "capacity" of the colored race—which
I believe a wealthy man said he would buy for his daughter if she was'nt
supplied with the article—I volunteered my services yesterday, as teacher in
Mr. Brown's school. This is held in the body of the colored peoples' church,
near the Chattanooga depot; Mr. B. is from Hamilton, Ohio, and is the pioneer
here, in this work. There are some 400 pupils and five teachers, all in one
room. I supposed they were having recess when I entered, but found that it was
impossible to prevent them from studying aloud. It seems it is practiced in the
schools of white children here, and the great number in this one room,
prevented such discipline as otherwise would have been secured.
SOURCE: Elvira J.
Powers, Hospital Pencillings: Being a Diary While in Jefferson General
Hospital, Jeffersonville, Ind., and Others at Nashville, Tennessee, as Matron
and Visitor, p. 61
The sick carried
early to the gates but not received; ordered to be brought at 2 p. m. Doctors
have got it into their heads that some system is necessary, and so much
crowding at the gate was unnecessary and detrimental; so they ordered all back
but the sick of eleven detachments and that none come tomorrow but those
designated. Many are taken out. It gives hope that they are going to try to
help us. Men persist in flattering themselves that we are soon to be relieved.
I guard against disappointment and defer hope while action is deferred. The
wolf at the door will not go away bloodthirsty until driven. They brought us to
Georgia according to a decision of powers that be, that no shelter should be
furnished Yankee prisoners. They will not release us for our sake, have
disregarded our rights and purposely wronged us. Their cause is desperate; they
fight for unprovoked revenge. They fiercely kill with bullets and designedly
and half disguisedly plot our lingering death, seeking to profit their cause by
our suffering. They began the war in hasty spite; it will end in hellish
revenge. If they believe in their cause, need we hope for mercy? Has the
government raised its hand to strike out one right the North claims for itself?
Have we not compromised our sense of justice to appease unreasoning wrath, and
have they not placed the dagger to our hearts? Now shall we be delivered by the
murderers from the hands of their agents? Not till the last pillar has been
broken and the hell-born spirit that incited this war shall rule no more, will
their nefarious plotting cease. Yet we have hope which all of this surmounts,
they must fail.
A PRISONER'S SONG.
Strident, yet more strident,
Sound the notes of war.
In our hearts confident
Behold the end afar.
Patient, yet more patient,
We'll bear the pains of fate.
Awake, oh, spirits latent,
And ward the blows of hate!
Higher,
and yet higher,
Raise
the hope of love;
Let
faith new strength inspire
And
make us stalwart prove.
Calmer,
and yet calmer,
Wait
we for the light,
Through
savage din and clamor,
The
passing of this night.
Freedom, on forever,
O, swiftly onward stride,
Enslaving bonds to sever,
And in this land abide!
Steady, and more steady,
Let our armies go;
They are strong and ready,
They move-it seems so slow!
Starving, we are starving!
We are sinking in distress;
Disease is gnawing-carving;
Our foes do sore oppress.
Help us to see the sunlight
Of victory and feel
Treason's bane has ceased to blight,
E'er death our eyes shall seal.
There is no danger
from robbers and Thompson and I walk in the cool of the evening and talk about
these things. A sensible companion in tribulation, is worth a thousand fools in
peace if one appreciates him. The happiest man I ever saw was a man happy under
miserable circumstances; the most miserable man is one wretched when surrounded
with the benefits of life, with a vacant heart, a volcanic head, an iceberg and
a fiery furnace freezing and burning his nature at the same time. To be
contented, to be happy here, in one sense, is a mysterious art, yet the
plainest fact.
"There is a Divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough hew them as we will."
We know now how to
appreciate a man who is a living statue, not a human straw, a weed, jostled by
every breeze, whipped about by adverse winds. We feel like him, believe in him;
we are encased in steel. He is one, at least, who appreciates us. He has not
only got the poetry of our best poets, but he has the heart, and the head; not
only the rhyme but the sentiment.
Recently an
interesting episode occurred, but it was not devoid of cruelties incident to
this place. It reveals qualities of noble patriotism and keen foresight with a
tinge of stern romance. A Georgian is a prisoner here.
Early in 1861 when
the war-spirit had become rampant and Georgia was swayed by men like Toombs a
man whose name is said to be Hirst, probably assumed, lived not many miles from
this prison, who resolved for the Union. He went North, leaving his wife at
home, and joined a Western regiment. In a battle between Sherman and Johnston's
armies he was captured. He was recognized by a Georgia Reserve, while carrying
a sick man out, who in peaceful days lived near him. The recognition was mutual
and friendly. From him he got some news of his wife, the first in three years.
It was arranged to get a note to her, telling of his imprisonment. In a few
days the guard was on duty and tossed the wife's letter over the dead-line in a
ball of clay. Two days later the woman came before Wirz and asked an interview.
It was granted, the lady to stand outside the gate thirty paces, the man at the
gate, neither to speak. At sight of each other they spoke each other's names
endearingly. The interview was abruptly ended, the woman ordered away, the man driven
into prison. The next day she came again bringing clothing and provisions which
she begged Wirz to send him. Wirz promptly ordered her away, warning her never
to come again, and sent soldiers to escort her off the ground. The husband was
then brought before him and an effort made to enlist him in the Rebel service.
This was resented, when he was bucked and gagged and locked in the dungeon,
being brought out and maliciously punished at intervals for several days.
Failing to impress him into the service, by advice of doctors he was turned
into the stockade. [Note.—After leaving Andersonville I, learn he escaped from
a train conveying prisoners from there, after Atlanta fell. He probably visited
his family and later joined Sherman's forces.]
STACK ARMS.
See, an officer in quest of men,
To do some work the Rebels need;
Invites us from this prison pen
To work for them while brothers bleed!
Foreswear our country, Southron? No!
For its cause is true and high!
Join the hosts of Freedom's foe?
Far better starve; in prison die!
We fight for section, Southron? No;
We fight that liberty may spread
O'er all the land that freemen know,
Where, too long, the slave had tread.
We fight for justice in the land
Where freeman's voice has been suppressed;
It shall be heard, from strand to strand,
And every wrong shall be redressed.
Patriotic to fight for wrong
Because 'tis in your section built?
To fight this evil to prolong
Does but enhance the master's guilt.
Patriotism knows no line
That shall Freedom's law restrain;
The die is cast, 'tis God's design
That slavery shall no more remain.
Ah, heed the call of destiny!
The black and white shall both be free;
And stack your arms, for liberty
O'er North and South alike shall be.
Stack arms, brave Southrons, and repent
You ever raised them 'gainst the right.
You know the force of brave dissent;
'Tis murder now to longer fight!
The "Stars and Bars" pull down, pull down;
They lead you wrong, in Slavery's ways,
More hateful than King George's crown
Our fathers spurned in other days.
SOURCE: John Worrell
Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville
and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, pp. 98-102
