Tuesday, 29th.—12 M. Pretty heavy cannonading on right. Reported Cheatham’s and Stewart’s Corps crossed river early this morning and are going round Federals. Late in afternoon Pettus’ Brigade crossed river near town; charged Yanks and drove them back so could put in pontoon.
Friday, November 28, 2014
Monday, November 28. — Colonel Means came here to-day with Dr. Spencer. Dr. S. is to examine the officers for exchange. He told Colonel Marshall that he was to go. Received a note from Major Chambliss and Miss Currier, a cousin of Colonel Greene’s. Day pleasant. Wrote to Mr. Caldwell about my exchange.
Monday, 28th—We started at 7 o’clock this morning, marched fifteen miles, and went into camp at 5 p. m. Our division took up the rear on our march today and we had good roads for marching, with the exception of a small swamp which lay in our path. This is a fine country and there is plenty of forage. All is quiet in front, the rebels retreating without puffing up a fight.[1]
[1] Almost every day after leaving Atlanta large numbers of negroes, women, children and old men, came, some of them walking miles, to see the Yankees go by. The soldiers in the ranks would engage them in conversation and the odd remarks the negroes would make were often quite amusing. They were asked many questions, one as a joke, a favorite one with the boys, was asking the nice mulatto girls to marry them; the answer invariably would be in the affirmative. These incidents as well as others made a change, and broke the monotony of our long, weary marches.—A. G. D.
November 28th.—We dined at Mrs. McCord’s. She is as strong a cordial for broken spirits and failing heart as one could wish. How her strength contrasts with our weakness. Like Doctor Palmer, she strings one up to bear bravely the worst. She has the intellect of a man and the perseverance and endurance of a woman.
We have lost nearly all of our men, and we have no money, and it looks as if we had taught the Yankees how to fight since Manassas. Our best and bravest are under the sod; we shall have to wait till another generation grows up. Here we stand, despair in our hearts (” Oh, Cassandra, don’t! “shouts Isabella), with our houses burning or about to be, over our heads.
The North have just got things ship-shape; a splendid army, perfectly disciplined, with new levies coming in day and night. Their gentry do not go into the ranks. They hardly know there is a war up there.
November 25th.—Sherman is thundering at Augusta’s very doors. My General was on the wing, somber, and full of care. The girls are merry enough; the staff, who fairly live here, no better. Cassandra, with a black shawl over her head, is chased by the gay crew from sofa to sofa, for she avoids them, being full of miserable anxiety. There is nothing but distraction and confusion. All things tend to the preparation for the departure of the troops. It rains all the time, such rains as I never saw before; incessant torrents. These men come in and out in the red mud and slush of Columbia streets. Things seem dismal and wretched to me to the last degree, but the staff, the girls, and the youngsters do not see it.
Mrs. S. (born in Connecticut) came, and she was radiant. She did not come to see me, but my nieces. She says exultingly that “Sherman will open a way out at last, and I will go at once to Europe or go North to my relatives there.” How she derided our misery and “mocked when our fear cometh.” I dare say she takes me for a fool. I sat there dumb, although she was in my own house. I have heard of a woman so enraged that she struck some one over the head with a shovel. To-day, for the first time in my life, I know how that mad woman felt. I could have given Mrs. S. the benefit of shovel and tongs both.
That splendid fellow, Preston Hampton; “home they brought their warrior, dead,” and wrapped in that very Legion flag he had borne so often in battle with his own hands.
A letter from Mrs. Davis to-day, under date of Richmond, Va., November 20, 1864. She says: “Affairs West are looking so critical now that, before you receive this, you and I will be in the depths or else triumphant. I confess I do not sniff success in every passing breeze, but I am so tired, hoping, fearing, and being disappointed, that I have made up my mind not to be disconsolate, even though thieves break through and steal. Some people expect another attack upon Richmond shortly, but I think the avalanche will not slide until the spring breaks up its winter quarters. I have a blind kind of prognostics of victory for us, but somehow I am not cheered. The temper of Congress is less vicious, but more concerted in its hostile action.” Mrs. Davis is a woman that my heart aches for in the troubles ahead.
My journal, a quire of Confederate paper, lies wide open on my desk in the corner of my drawing-room. Everybody reads it who chooses. Buck comes regularly to see what I have written last, and makes faces when it does not suit her. Isabella still calls me Cassandra, and puts her hands to her ears when I begin to wail. Well, Cassandra only records what she hears; she does not vouch for it. For really, one nowadays never feels certain of anything.
Nashville, Monday, Nov. 28. A pleasant day. Company turned out this morning. Carried down the army’s boxes and wood to our new camp. Hard work, but it dispensed with three guards. Wrote letter in the afternoon and commenced reading Jane Eyre. A beautiful silk flag was to be hoisted in our camp that we have bought by subscription for $75.00. May its folds ever wave over us in victory. Hood with 30,000 rebels reported moving on this place, and Thomas is below him. Gen. A. J. Smith is in town. His command, 16th Army Corps, is arriving from Missouri.
28th. Monday. In camp all day. Got mustered as 1st Lt. After supper, “General” and “Boots and Saddles” blew. Lay till twelve and then pulled out on back grade and Moorfield Pike.
J.B. Jones mentions graves of 12,000 Federal prisoners at Andersonville. – A Rebel War Clerk’s Diary
November 28th.—Calm and warm; clouds and sunshine, without wind.
All quiet below. It is reported that one of our picket boats in the James River deserted last night. It is said the crew overpowered the officers and put them ashore, and then the boat rowed down to the enemy.
I am informed by Capt. Warner that there are 12,000 graves of Federal prisoners at Andersonville, Ga. That climate is fatal to them; but the government cannot feed them here, and the enemy won’t exchange.
A dispatch from Gen. Bragg:
“Augusta, November 27th, 1864.—We have lost communication with the front. A small cavalry raid cut the Savannah Railroad and telegraph, this morning, at Brier Creek, twenty-six miles from here. Gen. Wheeler was, yesterday, confronting the enemy’s infantry at Sandersville. An officer, who left Macon on the 23d, states that one corps of the enemy was still confronting us there; our force not exceeding 5000, nearly all militia. The force here, including all available reserves, does not exceed 6000 effectives: only one battery. I am not yet advised from Charleston and Savannah, but know the means are small. Neither point could long resist the enemy’s whole force; hence my remarks about concentration. Gen. Hardee has gone to Savannah. Wheeler will continue to confront and harass the enemy. I have not learned the strength of his command. He estimates the enemy’s force at about 30,000.”
Gen. Beauregard has published a short proclamation, saying he will soon arrive to the rescue in Georgia. Here, then, will be war between the two B.’s—Bragg and Beauregard; and the President will be as busy as a bee. Meantime, Sherman may possess the land at pleasure.
A long letter (twenty-five pages) from Gov. Brown, Georgia, came to hand to-day, combating, in replication, one from the Secretary relating to calling out all the militia of Georagia, etc. State rights and the Constitution are discussed in extenso, and many a hard blow is aimed at the President. The Governor regards the Secretary as merely the instrument or head clerk of the President, whom he sneers at occasionally. But he denounces as vile the President himself, and refuses to obey the call. What he will do with the militia must soon be known, for Sherman is there.
A great stir among the officers on bureau and department duty in Richmond! Congress has called on the President for a list of all commissioned officers here, their ages, etc., and how many of them are fit for duty in the field. This will be dodged, of course, if possible.
Old Indian Battle Ground, near Drummond,
November 28, 1864.
Made a dozen miles to-day through the thickest pine woods I ever saw. There is no white or yellow pine here; it is all pitch. I think the division has been lost nearly all day. We have followed old Indian trails four-fifths of the time.
The foragers have found a large number of horses and mules in the swamps to-day. Plenty of forage. Sergeant Penney, of my company, died in the ambulance to-day. He was taken sick in the ranks at 8 p.m., 26th, of lung fever. He has never been right healthy, but when well was always an excellent soldier. Lieutenant Dorrance swallowed his false teeth a few nights ago, and complains that they don’t agree with him.
I hear that Wheeler jumped the 20th Corps yesterday and that they salivated him considerably. We caught a couple of his men to-day, on our road, stragglers. We pick up a good many stray Rebels along the road, but they are not half guarded and I think get away nearly as fast as captured.
