Thursday, 24th.—Marched twenty miles; struck what was called Mclntire Pike Road. Couldn’t see much pike about it. Reported 18,000 Federals at Pulaski.
Sunday, November 23, 2014
23d.—Military movements are kept very much in the dark. Nothing going on about Richmond, except cannonading, particularly at Dutch Gap.
Sherman is moving across Georgia in direction of Milledgeville, looking towards Savannah, or perhaps Charleston, or to some intermediate point on the coast, where he may, if necessary, meet with reinforcements and supplies from Federal shipping already there, or on their way down the Atlantic coast for that very purpose. Efforts are being made by the Governors of South Carolina and Georgia to arrest him. Beauregard, too, has made a short, stirring address, assuring them that he was hastening down to their aid, and that with proper exertions which might be made on their part, the destruction of the enemy would be certain. Nothing equal to the demands of these trying times has yet been done by any of the authorities. Oh that they would strain every nerve to put a stop to this bold and desolating invader! It would require united effort, made without delay. No hesitation, no doubting and holding back must there be; every human being capable of bearing arms must fly to the rescue; all the stores of every kind should be destroyed or removed; bridges burned, roads torn up or obstructed; every difficulty should be thrown in the way. He should be harassed day and night, that he might be delayed, and entrapped, and ruined. Oh that these things could be done! It may be a woman’s thought, but I believe that had Georgia one tithe of the experience of the ruined, homeless Virginians, she would exert every fibre of her frame to destroy the enemy; she would have no delusive hope of escape. I trust that the doctrines of Brown, Stephens, and such like, are not now bearing their bitter fruits! that the people of patriotic Georgia have not been rendered unfit for the sacrifices and dangers of this fearful day, when every man is required to stand in the deadly breach, and every earthly interest, even life itself, must be surrendered rather than yield to the barbarous foe, by their treasonable doctrines of reconstruction, reunion, etc. Oh, I trust not; and I hope that our now uncertain mails may bring information that all Georgia and South Carolina are aroused to their awful condition.
“The smoke of pine wood is so disagreeable.”–Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, Charles Wright Wills.
Near Gordon, November 23, 1864.
Came here to-day, about eight miles, find the Army of the Tennessee all here. Have heard nothing of the Rebels to-day; saw ice one and one-half inches thick that formed last night. Wore my overcoat all day. The left wing is either at Milledgeville or gone on east. A branch road runs up to the Capitol from the Macon and Savannah railroad, leaving it at Gordon. It is now all destroyed. This road is very easily destroyed. The iron is laid on stringers, which are only fastened to the ties with wooden pins. We have yet done nothing at it, but boys who have, say they pry up one stringer with the iron on it, roll it over to the other half of the track, lay some rails on, and fire it. The iron being firmly fastened to the stringer, expanding under the heat destroys it completely. The country here is quite rolling, not quite as rich as the Indian Spring country, but there is yet plenty of forage. The woods are mostly pine, and we are all most anxious to get where we will have some other fuel. The smoke of pine wood is so disagreeable.
Wednesday, November 23. — We bought 37 pounds fresh beef at $2.50 per pound, for our Thanksgiving dinner. Last night very cold; the ground froze and ice formed. They have not yet found out the way Major Filler escaped. Very cold in the evening, as we had no wood.
Wednesday, 23d—We started at 7 a. m. and marched twelve miles, when we bivouacked for the night. It is reported that a force of two thousand rebels is in our front beyond the Oconee river, and that there has been some skirmishing. We crossed the Savannah railroad here at Station No. 15. This station was burned last July by General Stoneman in his raid toward Macon, Georgia. The country is very heavily timbered, mostly pitch pine, but there are some very nice plantations. The negroes have all been run off to keep them from falling into the hands of our army. We are now on three-fifths rations and are foraging for meat.
Camp Russell, Virginia, November 20, 1864.
My Darling: — You see the Army of the Shenandoah has a name for its camp. Named after the General Russell who was killed at the battle of Winchester, September 19.
We have had no battle for a month! No Rebel firing for a week! Wonderful. But we don’t feel settled yet. We are quite comfortable, nevertheless. We are I think waiting to see the issue of Sherman’s daring campaign in Georgia. At present no furloughs or leaves of absence are granted except for sickness.
November 23. — Colder than any huckleberry pudding I know of! Whew, how it blew and friz last night! I took my clothes off in Christian style last night. No enemy near for a week and more makes this the correct thing. It got windy, flue disgusted smoked, let the fire go out, then grew cold; put on pants, coat, and vest, in bed. Cold again, put on overcoat and in bed again. Colder than ever, built up the fire, [it] smoked. So I wanted to be cold, and soon was. Tent-pins worked loose from the wind flapping the fly; fixed them after much trouble; to bed again, and wished I was with my wife in a house of some sort!
Today the men were to have had overcoats, stockings, shirts, etc., which they greatly need, but behold, we learn that the clothing couldn’t come because all the transportation was required to haul up the turkeys and Thanksgiving dinner! We must wait until next train, eight days! And we all laugh and are very jolly in spite of it.
8 P. M. — The clothing has come after all. The turkeys are issued at the rate of a pound to a man. Very funny times we are having! When the weather is bad as it was yesterday, everybody, almost everybody, feels cross and gloomy. Our thin linen tents — about like a fish seine, the deep mud, the irregular mails, the never-to-be-seen paymasters, and “the rest of mankind,” are growled about in “old-soldier” style. But a fine day like today has turned out brightens and cheers us all. We people in camp are merely big children, wayward and changeable.
Believe me, dearest, your ever loving husband,
R.
Mrs. Hayes.
November 23d, 1864.
It is very cold today. The wind changed to the west last night, with a snap to it, which reminded me, oh, so vividly, of home. Many is the time my wife and I have sat, side by side, and listened to the furious blast as it raged harmlessly outside, and I wondered if my loved one was now, alone and trembling, passing through a similar experience.
The sun shines brightly, but fails to warm the frozen earth. When I awoke this morning I heard the heavy army wagons thundering over the frozen earth.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Already the “good things” donated by the generous people of the North begin to arrive. My tent mates and I have been getting a supply of wood today. It is becoming scarce and hard to get. By bringing it a mile, in our arms, we have accumulated a quarter of a cord of good oak wood, which will last nearly a week.
I must now stop writing and draw our company ration of soft bread, which is issued twice a week. We also get mackerel once a week, codfish once, with now and then one potato and one onion per man.
November 23d.—Snowed last night three inches. Clear and cold this morning; ground frozen.
Had a dream last night—that meeting a few men in my wood and coal-house, I nominated R. Tyler for the Presidency, and it was well received. I must tell this to Mr. T.
I narrated my dream to Mr. T. Before I left, he said a clerkship was at the disposal of my son Thomas; but Thomas is clerk in the conscription service, getting rations, etc. etc., better than the $4000 per annum. But still that dream may be realized. He is the son of President Tyler, deceased.
John Mitchel is now editor of the Examiner, and challenged Mr. Foote yesterday—the note was borne by Mr. Swan, of Tennessee, Mr. Foote’s colleague. Mr. Foote would not receive it; and Mr. S. took offense and assaulted Mr. F. in his own house, when Mrs. F. interposed and beat Mr. S. away.
Gen. Winder has been appointed, by Gen. Cooper, commander of all prisons east of the Mississippi.
Gen. Winder has been made Commissary-General of all prisons and prisoners of war. The Bureau of Conscription is yet sustained in power. All this is done by Gen. Cooper,—unwise, probably fatal measures!
November 23d. Called up early this morning. Sorry to leave our good camp in the Faulkner’s woods, Martinsburg. Our boys often repeat, “There is no rest for the wicked.” Soldiers must obey orders and not ask questions. Left camp, on the march for Halltown. After an uneventful march of about eighteen to twenty miles we reached Halltown at night, tired, foot-sore, marching over rough roads. This town consists of a railroad station and a few old houses, which show the effect of the war. General Sheridan will open up the Harper’s Ferry and Winchester Railroad, as it is reported his army will go in winter quarters at Winchester. Our regiment must hold this point, owing to scouting parties of the enemy, who may attempt to capture his supply trains.
Nashville, Wednesday, Nov. 23. Some warmer to-day and groups could be seen about noon sunning themselves outside. Dan and Griff went to town early, and returned with a small sheet iron stove, about the size of an inverted camp kettle, $5.00 worth. But it is a prodigy of comfort. In ten minutes we had it blazing and the tent so warm as to be uncomfortable. About dusk a cedar rail mysteriously found its way into our tent, and was speedily converted into wood, nobody knows how, of course.
