This morning we can hear the beating of drums in the rebel camp. There is not a wide space between the two hostile armies. The Seventh rests quietly behind their works to-day.
SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 74
The weather is still very warm. To-day we hear heavy cannonading in the direction of Sherman's line. This evening we advance towards the rebel works; our batteries gaining a position, they throw some shells into their midst. We hold our position, and soon commence throwing up breastworks; the army keeps working on them nearly all night; the Seventh finish their space by two o'clock in the morning. We now have another strong line of defense. If Beauregard stands, we anticipate a general engagement soon. All day we hear heavy cannonading along Pope's line. Would that that restless spirit whose dogs of war are continually barking could be let loose at this very hour; we know he would go sweeping like an avalanche against the fortified walls of Corinth. But it is not deemed best, and for what reasons history will show; and if it be a mistake, the world will see it, and he who is responsible will receive the censure. To-night the Seventh is restless; the men are anxious to leap those works and carry the old flag on. Their hearts long to see it flying over yonder, but they are held in check. Somebody is cautious; perhaps somebody is fearful that his name, like the name of another, will be handled harshly in the northern hotels; perhaps fearful that somebody would say he was drunk.
SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 74-5
This morning we hear heavy explosions, supposed to be the enemy blowing up their magazines and ordnance stores, making preparations to evacuate. How true! There is confusion now in Halleck's grand army; they seem to surge like a lashed ocean when they are told that the rebels have evacuated Corinth; that the Union cavalry now occupy the place. We wonder if the sycophant will say of Halleck he is the Union's greatest general and liberty's most fearless champion, and allege as evidence that he was sober and stained not the earth with needless blood. We are soon moving from the right towards the left to join Pope; we come up with him at Farmington, where we are ordered to go into camp for the night.
SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 75-6
This morning we move from Farmington. In the afternoon we come to a halt near the Mobile and Ohio Railroad, and go into camp. It seems that the enemy has left in great confusion. The amount of property destroyed is immense. In Van Dorn's camp, we find some rebel papers; from one we extract the following letter, written by one of the chivalry's fair beauties, which, though a little diverging from our subject, may perhaps prove interesting to the reader.
YANKEEVILLE, April 22d, 1862.
MY DEAR SISTER: As it may be a very long time before we again have an opportunity of writing to you, Ma has made us all promise to write you a long letter; so if a corpulent budget comes to hand (provided it is not kidnapped), you need not be surprised. You see by the dating of my letter that we have moved family, house servants and all into Yankeeville. We are only about one hundred miles farther from you than when we lived at Huntsville. The portion of the United States that we live in is decidedly one of the most out-of-the-way places I have ever seen. Although the cars seem to run regularly, there is never a breath of news to gladden our hearts. I declare I have not seen a newspaper for two weeks, and expect if I were to see one now, I should regard it as a supernatural appearance, and be frightened to death. The Rev. Mr.—— is here, and preached for us, and was not so partial to the President of the C. S. A., but what he could leave him out of his prayer when he saw it was necessary. He prayed the Lord to look down upon us in mercy as we then stood before Him, political enemies. The church was half filled with officers, brass buttons and black feathers, strange to say, looking as calm and collected after their exploits as a pan of butter-milk. I wish you could see them as they pass the gate; sometimes on horseback, forty or fifty of them together, with their long, murderous swords encased in brass, and dangling with terrific clamor against the horses' sides, which produces an effect so frightening that our faces are fear blanched with terror, and we instinctively pull our sun-bonnets over our faces and stop our ears with our fingers, that we may shut out as much as possible the humiliating noise. Do you not shudder when you think that we are in the hands of these ruffians. We expect every night that the town will be either shelled or burnt, and when I wake up in the morning I am surprised to find myself safe, and that the shells have not yet been hurled this way; then I say to myself in the most thankful and cheery way, “Good morning, dear, I'm glad to see you're all here.” I miss dear little Huntsville so much, and often think of the times we used to have swinging together on the porch every night. Here the streets are so guarded that one dare not go beyond the dwelling houses, and as to singing in concert, the town is too full of Yankeedoodles ever to attempt it. Oh! how I long to see our dear soldiers again. Although I have no near kindred in the army, each one of them is as dear to me as a brother. All our girls are proud and brave, and never lose faith. They give no quarters to the Yankees, and as one of them remarked, “He hadn't seen a woman smile since he had been here." But how can we smile and be gay in their presence, when our hearts are with Charley, over the water. If you see any of my soldier friends up your way, please tell them to come and escort us back. We cannot return without protection. There is a large party of girls here who come with me, and who will join us. Our political canoe has run aground, and the no-secession waves run so high that it is dangerous for a party of females to brave them without some trusty arm to guard the vessel's bow. I wish I could see you all. We ought not to be separated. Kiss my brother and take good care of him, for men are so precious these war times.
Your loving sister
E——
SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 76-8
The 4th of July is fast approaching, and if we do not get our prize by that time, we will have a little celebration out here in the woods, for we have flags, drums and plenty of spread-eagle speakers, and we can omit the cannon, of which kind of music we have had a surfeit. Yes, we have all the material for a patriotic celebration, but I had hoped we should waive the old flag in Vicksburg that day.
I was sick last night, and up many times before day; and as I walked among the sleepers, I was astonished at the snoring; the variety of sounds made was as great as that of a brass band.
A rumor circulates that Pemberton has made an attack on our lines at Vicksburg, trying to cut his way out, but failed of his purpose. From a prisoner brought in, I have learned, by questioning, that the rebel authorities have made numerous drafts for young and old, to refill their ranks, and I think their army now must be as strong as it can ever be. By conscription and terrorism they have forced into the field every available man. With the North it is not so, for the old song, “We are Coming, Father Abraham, Three Hundred Thousand More,” is being sung there yet, with good will, and volunteers are still pouring in to fill up what may be lacking in our ranks. We can thus throw renewed forces against failing ones.
SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 68-9
 |
| The charge and repulse at Fort Hill. |
SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 69-71
Here we enter upon the patriotic month of July, and where and how we are to spend it is yet beyond our conjecture, for we never know in this kind of service what a day may bring forth.
Preparations appear to have been made here for remaining in camp, and yet we may sleep to-night many miles away, or perhaps, without sleeping, march the whole night through. If only life is spared, it is enough; our duties are not shirked. If we camp only for a day, our quarters are to be all cleaned up, and everything put in the best order possible for comfort. On such excursions as this we have no mess cooking, but every fellow cooks for himself. The first man up in the morning, therefore, gets the frying-pan, from whom the next must engage it, and then may come number three, who is referred to number two. So the utensil goes round a group or mess. The coffee is generally made in a camp kettle for the entire company. I have spent more time hunting up the owner of the last claim on the frying-pan than it afterward took to fry my bacon and crackers.
The pay-master is said to be not far from camp, which creates quite an excitement, since he may charge upon us any moment. There were orders for inspection every morning at eight o'clock for all companies. A little exercise of this kind hurts nobody. I took a stroll through the woods, looking at the graves of those who had fallen by the wayside while our army fought for the position it now holds around Vicksburg. These graves will soon be leveled, and their last trace lost. Friends may mourn for the fallen, but their tears will never water the graves of the heroes.
I write with the aid of a bayonet candle-stick. The latter end of this month will find me just twenty-one years of age.
SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 71-2
This is Camp Tiffin. Our regiment was favored to-day with a large mail, and nothing could have been more acceptable. Letters from home were looked into first, and next, of course, came sweethearts. One letter was read aloud, describing the capture of a butternut camp, in Holmes county, Ohio. The fort was built on a hill, and manned with several cannon, to resist the draft. A few soldiers from Camp Chase, however, went over and soon put an end to that attempt at resistance. I regret to hear of such a disgraceful affair occurring in my native State. From other letters and papers it appears this thing occurs in many other Northern States, and of course it must give encouragement to the rebels.
The rumor now runs that the paymaster will be at hand tomorrow, but he is about as reliable as Johnston, for we have been something like a week looking for both these gentlemen. I confess I would rather meet greenbacks than graybacks.
This afternoon, with several others, I went blackberrying
again, and in searching for something to eat, we paid a visit to a house where,
to our happy surprise, we found a birthday party, brightened by the presence of
no less than eleven young ladies. We asked, of course, where “the boys” were,
and they replied, as we expected, “out hunting Yanks.” Well, we found it a
treat to get a taste of sociality once more, after being so long famished. They
were very nice rebel girls, though I think the color of the eyes of one of them
was what I might call true blue. They asked us to lunch with them, which
we did with pleasure. The eatables were good, and we had a splendid time—all
the while, of course, keeping one eye on the girls and the other on the window.
We told our experience at our last blackberrying excursion, when they assured
as we had nothing to fear with them, for they were all “for the Union.” No
doubt they will be whenever their “boys” come home.
Uncle Sam's cashier has arrived at last, and we have been paid for two months' service. The married men are quite anxious to send their money home to their wives and little ones. It is risky sending money North from here, yet, to some, more dangerous to keep it. I saw two boys sitting on a log, today, playing poker at five cents a game. Five cent currency is paid in a sheet, and, as either lost the game, a five cent piece was torn off.
SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 74
WE LEAVE PLYMOUTH.
On the 8th of December the regiment embarked on the schooner Skirmisher for Newbern, arriving there on the evening of the 10th. We were right glad to once more get back to camp, where we could clean ourselves up and get a change of clothing, but were much more glad to find mail and express matter from home. We were not, however, overjoyed to find an order awaiting us to be ready early in the morning to start on a long and rapid march, but having become accustomed to adapting ourselves to circumstances, the order was soon forgotten and we were absorbed in our letters and papers, after which the contents of the boxes were attended to. There was a generous quantity of goodies from the loved ones at home, some of which are of a perishable nature; what shall we do with them? We go off in the morning, and the Lord knows when we shall come back if we ever do. There are no taps tonight, and the candles burn long and well, so we sit down and gorge ourselves until we can eat no more, putting aside what we think will keep until we get back, and crowding as much as we can that remains into our haversacks. We next attend to a change of clothing, and by morning are ready for a start. I wear my best clothes, thinking if I should happen to become a guest at the Hotel de Libby, I should like to appear respectable.
GOLDSBORO EXPEDITION.
During our stay at Plymouth, large reinforcements of troops arrived at Newbern. These troops consisted of Gen. Wessell's brigade of six regiments of New York and Pennsylvania troops, and the 8th, 43d, 45th, 46th and 51st Massachusetts regiments of nine months' troops. They were to join in an expedition under Gen. Foster, against Goldsboro and the Wilmington and Weldon railroad; the object being to destroy that road, thus preventing reinforcements reaching Gen. Lee at Fredericksburg, where Gen. Burnside was about making an assault. This part of the plan was successfully carried out, but too late to be of any use to Burnside, as he made his attack three days before we reached and destroyed the road. Although Gen. Foster started the moment his troops arrived, it was about a week too late.
The division consisted of four brigades, the 1st under command of Brig. Gen. Wessell; the 2d, Col. Amory; 3d, Col. Stevenson; 4th, Col. Lee; with the 3d New York cavalry and eleven batteries of artillery, and the wagon and ambulance train. The whole made a force of about 20,000 men, and when the procession was in line of march it covered a distance of about seven miles. Col. Heckman, with his 9th New Jersey regiment, was a kind of independent corps, he taking the contract to lead the advance and clear the way. The expedition started on the morning of Dec. 11, and about noon Col. Lee's brigade fell in on the left, the 25th being in this brigade and 18th regiment in the column. We marched this day about 12 miles, getting into camp late in the evening. This bivouac was on an extensive plain, and was covered with troops, horses, mules and wagons, and in the dim moonlight, its thousand camp fires made a grand illumination. It was not long after supper before the men were all rolled up in their blankets asleep, and on that cold December night, as I looked over that field and saw by the glare of its many camp fires, those thousands of brave, self-sacrificing men lie stretched upon the ground, I could but think that the bright spirits of the immortal band of American patriots hovered over that camp and looked down approvingly upon our efforts to sustain that government and these institutions for which they had sacrificed and suffered so much to establish.
On the morning of the 12th the march was resumed, but was necessarily slow as the roads were badly obstructed. In one swamp, for a distance of three miles, the trees were thickly felled across the road, making a forenoon's job for Capt. Wilson and his pioneer corps to clear away. They had no sooner finished this job when another presented itself in building a bridge across a creek, which took nearly all the afternoon. The 25th crossed this bridge about dark, and a little farther on saw lights ahead. We now thought we were nearing camp and we began to cheer up, thinking our day's work nearly over, but on coming to the camp fires, we found only the 51st Massachusetts, Cul. Sprague, and a battery left here at the junction of the main road leading to Kinston, with orders to hold it until noon the next day, while the column moved up the old or back road towards Southwest creek. Finding this was not our hotel we took fresh courage and pushed on. A few miles farther brought us into camp.
It was a cold night, and being nearly the last in we found the rails and wood had all been appropriated; we must either go without fires or go half a mile for fuel. We went for it, and after a hard scramble succeeded in getting a partial supply, enough however, with prudence, to go through the night and make our morning's coffee. Our march this day was only about ten miles.
Next morning we took an early start. A mile or two up the road, another road branched to the right, leading to Kinston. Here the 16th Massachusetts, Col. Shurtliff, with a battery were left to hold it. About the middle of the forenoon firing was heard in the advance; Col. Heckman had got a job. He found the enemy in considerable force at Southwest creek, and with his own and one or two other regiments succeeded in driving them out, capturing one gun. This Southwest creek, like all other battle grounds the enemy selects, is a swamp about half a mile wide, with a small creek running through it. We halted early in the afternoon, to let the teams, which were stuck all along the road, come up:
We were now about five miles from Kinston. The infantry bivouacked on the left side of the road, on which was a growth of small pines, making a nice, clean camp-ground. The batteries and teams, as fast as they came up, were parked in the open field on the right. The cavalry, which we had not seen for two days, were playing a lone hand, and were scouting around over the country, making tents and bothering the enemy. Under the pines we make soft beds, and at dark kindle the fires, make coffee, eat our suppers and go to bed, expecting in the morning our further progress up the country will be vigorously disputed.
All was quiet during the night, and early in the morning of Sunday, the 14th, the camp was astir. The general ordered that in order to lighten the teams, every man take three days' rations and 60 rounds of extra ammunition. While this was being dealt out, some one suggested that the teams could be still further lightened by issuing a ration of whiskey. Acting on that suggestion, the liquor was ordered, and there was far less complaint about taking it than there was in taking the extra ammunition. Breakfast over, the chaplain offered prayer, after which a hymn was sung; we then filed into the road and commenced the march. The advance was well up the road, and we began to hear firing ahead. As we drew nearer it became more distinct and there was more of it. Wessell's and Amory's brigades were hotly engaged, and the roar of artillery gave notice that the batteries were not silent spectators.
We hurried on and soon met the stretcher corps bringing out the dead and wounded men. This to me was a sickening sight, to see men with pallid faces, writhing with pain and blood dripping from the stretchers. I know not how it is with others, but there is nothing that so completely takes the pith out of me when going into action as this. I want to get engaged before seeing the dead or wounded; after that I do not mind so much about it.
The enemy, under command of Gen. Evans, was in strong force and posted on the south side of the river near Kinston, commanding the road that led through a thick, wet swamp some half a mile wide. This swamp prevented our batteries from working with much accuracy, consequently the fight became an infantry one. Wessell's and Amory's brigades pushed into the swamp and engaged them in front, while the other regiments as they came up were posted on the right, to prevent a flank movement, or to make one ourselves if necessary. The 25th, with Morrison's battery, were drawn up in line of battle on an open field near the river, to the left of the swamp. As the battle was confined to the swamp in front, we were not under fire at all. The battle lasted about three hours, when our troops got through the swamp and charged on them. The 9th New Jersey led the charge, followed by Wessell's and Stevenson's brigades. They charged them across the river and through the town, capturing eleven pieces of artillery and 300 prisoners. After which they shelled them, driving them up the country, out of sight and hearing. In this battle the enemy numbered about 8000, with several batteries of artillery. We had no means of knowing their loss, but it must have been considerable; they got off most of their wounded and probably some of their dead.
When Lee's brigade got on the battle-ground, it was halted, and burying parties were detailed to bury the enemy's dead which here covered the ground. This ground was hard and considerably higher than the swamp; in the midst of a pretty grove of trees stood an old church. The boys did not take very kindly to this burying business, as they were in a hurry to get into town and secure their share of the spoils, but the job hard to be done, and they went about it with a will. They dug trenches a little more than two feet deep, and in these the dead were placed, with the capes of their overcoats wound around their heads; over those not having overcoats, pine boughs were thrown and all were covered over with earth. Our loss in this battle was about 200, some 50 of whom were killed, the t5th Massachusetts sharing largely in the loss. About dark we marched into a field a short distance south of the town, where we were to bivouac. Now commenced the destruction of fences and old buildings for fires, and after supper parties went up town to look over the prize, and late in the evening began to return bringing in their plunder. One party had been very successful; they came in hauling an express wagon loaded with' tobacco, cigars, apple-jack, scuppernong wine, pigs, etc. Of course a dividend was struck, and all that wanted, had a share in the tobacco and cigars, with a drink or two of the wine and apple-jack. This was a pretty good Sunday's job.
Next morning, the 15th, the division was again on the move, destroying the road and railroad bridges over the Neuse river as left. We marched up the river road about 18 miles, getting into camp late in the evening, having met with no obstacles during the day. Here again was a scramble for rails and wood for fires; all the rails near by were gone, and we had to tote ours about a quarter of a mile. The fires kindled, making coffee was in order; after a twenty mile tramp and toting rails for fires, as they stood around them, roasting one side and freezing the other, the boys are not feeling very viable. If there is any one thing more than another that will draw the cuss-words out of them, it is when a dozen cups of coffee are sitting along a burning rail boiling, and some careless fellow comes along, hits the end of the rail, dumping it all over. It is not the loss of the coffee they care so much about, but it is going perhaps half a mile for water to make more. It is of no sort of use to send a darky for it in the night, as he would not find his way back before morning.
On the morning of the 16th it was reported the enemy were in force across the river at a place called Whitehall, about three or four miles from where we were, and where they were building a steam ram. Of course that must be attended to, and when we left our bivouac, the ball had opened and heavy firing was heard ahead. Lee's brigade hurried on and an hour's march brought us to the scene of conflict. A road turned to the right, leading down to the river, where our batteries were at work. The 25th was ordered down this road, but when about half way down, and only a short distance in rear of the batteries, were ordered to halt and wait further orders. An artillery duel was being fought, our batteries on the south side of the river and the enemy's on the north, with the bridge up that here crossed the river. We hail ten batteries engaged, and the enemy had what we had not captured at Kinston. The roar of artillery, screaming shot and bursting shell was fearful. The enemy had sharpshooters along the river bank, who were rather troublesome to our artillerists, and to meet them men were called for from our regiments; Major Pickett was called on for 100. He asked for volunteers and more than half the regiment stepped forward for the service. I didn't volunteer; I never do; I rather pride myself on not committing a great amount of foolishness in this business. The 100 were soon off for the river, where they took available positions and did good service. In this engagement they had one killed and three wounded. After nearly three hours the fire began to slacken and the enemy drew off. The steam ram on the river, which was said to be quite a formidable craft, was then blown up and destroyed. It will be rather discouraging to attempt the building of any more rams at this navy-yard. The army then moved up the road, getting into camp, about night, and some seven or eight miles from Goldsboro. Early in the morning of the 17th, Lee's brigade took the advance, and after a march of five or six miles, the scouts reported the enemy in the woods near the railroad and bridge which crosses the river about two miles below Goldsboro. We were now in their immediate neighborhood. The column was halted, a regiment sent out as skirmishers and a battery advanced and took position on a knoll of ground, a little to the left and front of the column, and commenced shelling the woods. This had the effect of stirring them up, so we knew where they were. The infantry and batteries were ordered forward, and marched into position in front of the enemy, covering the railroad and bridge. After some skirmishing, at about 10 a. m., the battle commenced and continued with short intermissions until the middle of the afternoon, at which time we had silenced the enemy's guns and driven them from the field. We burned the railroad bridge, and with the help of the cavalry tore up and burned ten or twelve miles of track and tressel work of the Wilmington and Weldon railroad. Gen. Foster then said the object had been accomplisherl, and ordereil a retreat, Lee's brigade being ordered to cover it. It was near sunset when we left the field, Morrison's New York and Belger's Rhode Island batteries alone remaining on a knoll of ground which they had occupied during the battle, waiting for us to get away, when they would follow. After leaving the field, we crossed the bed of a small creek about 20 feet wide, with scarcely any water, but with steep banks, except at the ford, where they slopeit down to admit crossing.
Crossing this creek, we halted at a farm house a little way off to load our dead and wounded men into ambulances. While doing it a battery officer dashed up exclaiming, “For God's sake, send us an old regiment! The enemy are charging our batteries! Quick! hurry up!” The 27th and 25th Massachusetts were on the left or rear of the column, and immediately faced about and started on the double quick for the batteries. In the meantime, while our troops were leaving the field, the enemy had been reinforced, and, seeing the batteries alone, and perhaps thinking they might be out of ammunition, thought it would be a nice little trick to capture them. In going to the relief of the batteries we had to run a gauntlet of shot and shell from a six-pounder battery out in the woods, a little to the left and front of our batteries, who were supporting their charging brigade. We went to Belger's support, and the 27th to Morrisson's. In the meantime the batteries had opened fire on the charging columns but without checking them. When we came up they were coming across the railroad; but another discharge from the guns, and seeing their support, the enemy thought they had taken too much of a job, and facing about they put for the woods.
That little battery out in the woods was wonderfully active, shying their shot and shell thick and fast. Fortunately their guns had a high elevation, and the shot went several feet above our heads. They soon, corrected that, however, and the shot began to come lower. Capt. Belger ordered us to lie down, I am always quick to hear that order, and was the first man down. They had now got their range well down, the shot just skimming over us, one shell had burst in front of us, killing one man and wounding two others. They had a splendid range on me as I lay in the rear of my company. About once a minute a shot would come directly over me, striking the ground only a few feet in the and what made it more provoking, they kept getting them lower, until I had flatted out as thin as a sheet of tissue paper. I could stand this no longer, and told the boys in front of me that those shot were coming dangerously close, and they had better make a break by crowding a little to the right and left. I pushed along about ten feet to the left and would liked to have pushed about ten miles to the rear. That movement was barely executed when a shot ploughed a furrow through the space they had made. But that was their last shot, for after the charging column had turned, the guns were turned on that battery, and annihilated it at the first discharge, or at least, I supposed that was the case, as we heard nothing more from it. It was now after sunset and peace once more reigned in Warsaw.
We waited awhile to see if they wanted anything more of us, and finding they did not, we again drew off the field. On coming to the little creek, which we had crossed dry shod an hour before, we now found a roaring torrent running bankfull, with barrels, rails and pieces of timber borne on the surface of its swift current. We had got to go through' it, and the boys, holding their rifles, cartridge boxes and blankets above their heads, waded in. The water was waist deep, and when my company went in I waited on the bank, thinking I would step into the rear as they passed by, but I made a wrong calculation of the bank. When I stepped in, I went in all over, and in trying to recover myself, I let go my cartridge box, blanket and Spitfire, but caught the last between my knees, and commenced ducking to get it. The major was standing on the bank, cautioning the boys to keep their powder dry. When he happened to observe me going through my aquatic performances he yelled vociferously: "What in hell are you doing there? Why don't you keep your powder up out of the water?” I paid no attention to him, but kept reaching for Spitfire, and every time I reached for it, the current would nearly take me off my feet. After I had succeeded in fishing it out, I turned my attention to the major, and answered his little conundrum by asking him what in hell powder was good for without Spitfire? The major laughed and jumping on a gun carriage was ferried across. I was a little the worst off of the lot for I was thoroughly soaked, as were also all my belongings.
The night was freezing cold and in our wet clothes we felt it very sensibly.
A mile march brought us to the woods, which were some four or five miles through, and on the other side was our last night's bivouac. The advance troops had set the woods on fire and when we went through, it was a roaring mass of flame.
This served us a good turn, as it lighted up the road and kept us warm.
We reached our bivouac late in the evening, wet, cold, tired and hungry, but our day's work was not yet done. If we wanted fires and hot coffee, we must go half a mile for rails and tote them in on our shoulders. We brought in a good supply and soon had our coffee boiling. Our wagons were bare of meat and whiskey, and our supper consisted of coffee and hardtack.
Through the long, weary night, wet, cold and hungry, we stood shivering over the fires. Gladly we hailed the first grey streaks of dawn and took fresh courage, knowing we should soon be on the road for home. At sunrise the whole army was in motion, on the road for Newbern, where we arrived a little after noon on Sunday, the 21st, nearly dying from hunger and exhaustion.
When we started on this expedition it was thought the wagons contained an ample supply of rations, but our march country was so imported by blocked roads and so vigorously contested that it was prolonged beyond what was anticipated; besides it was an awful poor section of country for pigs, chickens and apple-jack. On this little excursion, Gen. Foster's army has been out ten days, marching 150 miles, cutting out several miles of blockade roads, building one bridge, doing considerable skirmishing, whipping the enemy three times on their own ground, besides other mischief, such as burning the railroad bridge at Goldsboro, burning a train of cars and smashing up an engine at Mount Olive station, some ten miles down the road from the battle ground, and also tearing up the track between the two points. This last deviltry the 3d New York cavalry is accountable for. There was also burned a quantity of cotton, several houses, barns and many thousands of dollars' worth of fencing and timber. A very clever little job for one trip, but the results would have been greater had it been done two weeks sooner; it would then have greatly hindered the reinforcing of Gen. Lee at Fredericksburg. However, there can no blame be laid to Gen. Foster, as he started on the execution of his orders as soon as the troops arrived.
MAJOR PICKETT.
Our little major since the two last tramps has become very popular in his regiment, and I expect when the eagles light on his shoulders we shall feel pretty proud of him. He is a staving good fellow, and in a fight is always on the lead, inspiring the men with cowage by his coolness and daring. On the road he is equally good, letting the boys have it pretty much their own way, never troubling himself about how they came by their chickens and apple-jack, and is often seen trudging along on foot, letting some sick or footsore soldier ride his giraffe.
SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 77-84
Hickory Hill, S. C., February 1, 1865.
Fifteen miles to-day and had an excellent supper of South Carolina ham, honey and sweet potatoes. Found a good deal of road blockaded to-day, but the pioneers removed the obstructions so rapidly that the train did not have to halt once. The Rebels disputed our advance a little, killed a cavalryman and wounded another for us, but did not stop the column a moment. Sherman rode at the rear of our regiment all day and was quite sociable with some of the men. Don't think any of the officers noticed him. Miserable pine land country, but some quite large plantations.
SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 339
February 2, 1865.
The advance started at daylight, but we are the rear guard of the corps and will not get off before 4 p. m. We have no idea of our destination, but are now traveling the Augusta road.
The country is very level, but every mile or so there is a little swale or depression of but a few feet, and before a hundred wagons pass over it thorough corduroying is necessary. The foragers had sharp fighting for what they got to-day. We had two captured, Billy Haller and a 40th boy. Our boys captured several and killed three. Only made six miles.
SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 340
Baren's Mills, S. C., February 3, 1865.
Fifteen miles to-day. The 17th is having some pretty lively firing on our right. At a house I stopped at to-day a "cit" told me were 95 miles from Charleston, 65 from Augusta, and 33 from Branchville. That is as near as I can tell you where we are. We expect to reach Buford's bridge on the Salkehatchie, to-morrow. The Rebels have fortified there, I hear. Our brigade has the advance, and fun to-morrow, if there is any. It has rained since 12 last night.
SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 340
Most unaccountably, to me, the Rebels evacuated an impregnable position (if there is such a thing), and our brigade was saved thereby from making some more history, for which I am grateful. A straight pike or causeway three quarters of a mile long and in which there are 24 bridges, was our only chance of crossing. They had strong embrasured works, but left an hour before our advance reached their fortifications. We got a lot of good horses and more good forage than I ever before saw brought in. I am sure that we have either a nice ham or shoulder for every two men in the regiment, and I think, more. A Company B boy got a good strong horse which he let me have. People here say that the Rebels have all gone to Branchville. Colonel Catterson told Sherman (he was in our camp some time to-night) that a negro reported that the Rebels had all gone to Branchville. "Pap" replied, “They can go to Branchville and be d-d.” We infer from that, that we don't go there. He also said to Catterson, who was superintending the bridge building, “Build them strong, Catterson, build them strong; the whole army may have to pass over them, and the ‘Army of the Cumberland’ is a very heavy army, sir.” Besides the little slur on the 14th and 20th, that gave us an idea of the whereabouts of the left wing.
I just now heard what made the Rebels evacuate this. Mowers' Division of the 17th formed line and marched across this stream and swamp eight miles below at River Bridge. They waded through three miles of water and then took the Rebel works with a loss to us of only 12 killed and 72 wounded. I think that beats anything I ever heard of in the show line. There was a town of 20 or 25 houses here, but we have used it up in building bridges.
SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 340-1
Yesterday was quite warm, but my overcoat is useful again to-day. General Kilpatrick caught up with us last night, also General Williams with five brigades of the 20th A. C. So instead of waiting several days Sherman said he'd chance them for the railroad with what troops there are up. We took the road this morning. Stopped here for the 3d Division to clear the swamp of some Johnnies, which I think they have about effected.
Five p. m.—Miserable swamp, but the 3d Division only lost two men in crossing. There must have been a division of Wheeler's here by the signs.
SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 342
Bamberg, S. C., February 9, 1865.
We were to go to Cannon's bridge on the Edisto four miles, but heard the bridge was burned, so we did not go. I think we will go up the river towards Augusta. Late Confederate papers say that Thomas has started south towards Montgomery, leaving Hood behind him. Many of the officers have strong hopes of something resulting from the peace movement. Can't say that I have.
SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 343
