Friday, December 2. — Lieutenant Gill on, as officer of the day. Mr. Caldwell came to see us. Spoke to me about Dr. Spencer. My rheumatism does not get any better. Day pleasant. One hundred of Sherman’s men brought in. All confident and in good spirits.
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Friday, 2. — Another good day. All thought is of Sherman and Hood’s army. Hopeful. Busy fixing new camp for cold and wet weather.
December 2d.—Isabella and I put on bonnets and shawls and went deliberately out for news. We determined to seek until we found. Met a man who was so ugly, I could not forget him or his sobriquet; he was awfully in love with me once. He did not know me, but blushed hotly when Isabella told him who I was. He had forgotten me, I hope, or else I am changed by age and care past all recognition. He gave us the encouraging information that Grahamville had been burned to the ground.
When the call for horses was made, Mrs. McCord sent in her fine bays. She comes now with a pair of mules, and looks too long and significantly at my ponies. If I were not so much afraid of her, I would hint that those mules would be of far more use in camp than my ponies. But they will seize the ponies, no doubt.
In all my life before, the stables were far off from the house and I had nothing to do with them. Now my ponies are kept under an open shed next to the back piazza. Here I sit with my work, or my desk, or my book, basking in our Southern sun, and I watch Nat feed, curry, and rub down the horses, and then he cleans their stables as thoroughly as Smith does my drawing-room. I see their beds of straw comfortably laid. Nat says, “Ow, Missis, ain’t lady’s business to look so much in de stables.” I care nothing for his grumbling, and I have never had horses in better condition. Poor ponies, you deserve every attention, and enough to eat. Grass does not grow under your feet. By night and day you are on the trot.
To-day General Chesnut was in Charleston on his way from Augusta to Savannah by rail. The telegraph is still working between Charleston and Savannah. Grahamville certainly is burned. There was fighting down there to-day. I came home with enough to think about, Heaven knows! And then all day long we compounded a pound cake in honor of Mrs. Cuthbert, who has things so nice at home. The cake was a success, but was it worth all that trouble?
As my party were driving off to the concert, an omnibus rattled up. Enter Captain Leland, of General Chesnut’s staff, of as imposing a presence as a field-marshal, handsome and gray-haired. He was here on some military errand and brought me a letter. He said the Yankees had been repulsed, and that down in those swamps we could give a good account of ourselves if our government would send men enough. With a sufficient army to meet them down there, they could be annihilated. “Where are the men to come from?” asked Mamie, wildly. “General Hood has gone off to Tennessee. Even if he does defeat Thomas there, what difference would that make here?”
December 2d.—Warm, and raining moderately.
My landlord gets $400 of the $500 increase of my salary.
Dispatches from Gen. Bragg:
“Augusta, December 1st, 1864. — Following received from Lieut.-Gen. R. Taylor, Savannah, Ga.: ‘Gen. Hardee is at Grahamville. No fighting there since yesterday evening, when the enemy was driven five miles, leaving their dead upon the field.— B. B.’”
Another:
“Augusta, December 1st, 1864, 12m.—The (enemy’s) cavalry having been driven in, the enemy’s main force was yesterday found near Louisville, with strong outposts in this direction. They have secured large supplies in the country; but our cavalry is now all up, and it is hoped they will be prevented to a great extent in the future. The report from Savannah, of the enemy’s entrance into Millen, on the 27th, was premature. Telegraphic communication was reopened to Savannah by that route yesterday. The enemy is just now reported as at Station 9, on Central Railroad, advancing.—B. B.”
During the last month, 100 passports were given to leave the Confederate States by Provost Marshal Carrington and War Department.
Mr. G. B. Lamar, Savannah, Ga., tenders his services to go to New York and purchase supplies for our prisoners in the hands of the enemy, and to negotiate the sale of 1000 bales of cotton, etc.
Twelve M. Heavy and pretty rapid shelling is heard down the river.
Col. Chandler, Inspecting Officer, makes an ugly report of Gen. Winder’s management of the prisons in Georgia. Brig.-Gen. Chilton appends a rebuking indorsement on Gen. W.’s conduct. The inspector characterizes Gen. W.’s treatment of the prisoners as barbarous, and their condition as a “hell on earth.” And Gen. W. says his statements are “false.”
Fort Gillem, Friday, Dec. 2. Slept on boards inside the fort last night, guns outside. A gentle rain fell in the after part of the night, but not enough to penetrate our blankets. All our camp and garrison equipage brought here during the night, and pitched tents this morning. Luckily our stove was saved, and it now gives us comfort. Wet and rainy all day. The fort is garrisoned by 14th Ohio Battery and 10th Tennessee Infantry, a splendid work.
We lay just outside yet. 10th Ohio Battery boys have come back from river, thereby relieving us from their guns. We know nothing definite of Hood and his forces. He is reported to be moving on to Murfreesboro. He has thought it best not to try Nashville, after his signal defeat at Franklin on the 30th. Our foes are fallen back and are now in line of battle about three miles from town. Artillery firing has been distinctly heard this afternoon. Mail received and “Good News from Home”; all well.
After night I walked out and had a splendid view of our camp in the dark, which is always to me a grand and sublime sight. About a mile and a half from us the advance line string from one hill to another as far as we can see on either side, stretching from water to water, with their countless fires. Would that I had the artist’s skill to represent this scene with its seas of glittering starlike fires. And when I think of the thousands of brave boys that gather around them, patiently awaiting the foe, it becomes sacred to me and fills my soul with reverence to the Supreme Being that holds our destiny in His hands.
2nd. Friday. Went into our old camp at 2 P. M. Mail from home.
West bank of Ogeechee River, eight miles
south of Millen,
December 2, 1864.
Recrossed the river this morning and, joining the brigade, made some eight miles to-day. We are ahead of the rest of the army or could have made more. Pine country, almost uninhabited. Saw to-day my favorite tree—the magnolia. Have seen but few of them in Georgia. In a swamp we passed through to-day a darkey pointed out to us some lemon trees. Saw in the same swamp some yellow pine. Nearly all the pine this side of the Oconee has been the “pitch” variety.
Friday, 2d—We marched eleven miles today and went into bivouac after dark near the town of Millen. We passed through some fine country with very large plantations. We crossed the east prong of the Ogeechee river about dusk, the infantry crossing over the railroad bridge and the artillery and teams by pontoon bridge. Millen is on the bank of this river and is a junction of the railroad running between Augusta and Savannah. We demolished the railroad all along the line.
