January 13 — This far in the new year the weather has been very disagreeable, windy, and cold. Last night about nine o’clock a man died, frozen to death or starved in bed, in the next tent to mine. The orderly sergeant of our company called for four volunteers to bear the corpse to the dead house; I volunteered for one. The night was bitter cold, with a full moon in a clear, wintry sky which rendered the night almost as bright as day. As we bore the body of our comrade through the silent street the pale silvery moonbeams with kindly light played softly over the cold thin white face of the dead. The moonlit wavelets of the Bay, as they kissed the pebbly strand, whispered a soft vesper hymn, a fitting requiem, as we moved away with our silent burden toward the house of the dead. When we arrived at the dead house, which is a large Sibley tent, the Great Reaper had already harvested seven sheaves garnered in silent waiting for the morrow’s interment. The burial hour here is daily at four o’clock in the afternoon, and the man that we carried to the dead house made the eighth one that died from four o’clock until nine. Death with its fatal shears clips a brittle thread of life here, and with insatiable greed calls for “next” every hour of the day and night and gathers on an average twenty-five passengers for the daily train to the Silent City. The man that we carried to the dead house was a Virginian from Floyd County. He attended roll-call yesterday evening; I saw him standing in ranks, but he looked wan and frail.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Beaufort, S. C., January 13, 1865.
Retired about 11 p.m. and woke up here this morning. A very handsome, small town, about the size of Canton, but more fine dwellings. All have been confiscated and sold to the negroes and white Union men. Find the 17th A. C. here, but about ready to move out to drive the Rebels away from the ferry, where we will lay our pontoons to the main land. The 14th and 20th will move by land and join us on the main land somewhere. I can hardly imagine what our next move will be, but mostly think we will tear up the railroads through the Carolinas and take Charleston and Wilmington during the spring campaign. The health of the command is perfect, and all are in most soldierly spirits. Thinking nothing impossible if Sherman goes with us, and go he will.
13th. Friday. Drew some extra ordnance. Inspected by Corps Inspector. Complimented by him. Have very neat quarters and neat ground.
Friday, 13th—For some reason we did not break camp and get started until 4 p. m. and then moved only four miles and went into bivouac. We routed the rebels from the south bank of the Broad river and laid down the pontoons for the army to cross over. Two of our regiments crossed the river in skiffs at some point above or below after nightfall and routed the rebels from the river.
January 13th.—Clear and pleasant—but little frost . Beef (what little there is in market) sells to-day at $6 per pound; meal, $80 per bushel; white beans, $5 per quart, or $160 per bushel. And yet Congress is fiddling over stupid abstractions!
The government will awake speedily, however; and after Congress hurries through its business (when roused), the adjournment of that body will speedily ensue. But will the President dismiss his cabinet in time to save Richmond, Virginia, and the cause? That is the question. He can easily manage Congress, by a few letters from Gen. Lee. But will the potency of his cabinet feed Lee’s army?
A great panic still prevails in the city, arising from rumors of contemplated evacuation. If it should be evacuated, the greater portion of the inhabitants will remain, besides many of the employees of government and others liable to military service, unless they be forced away. But how can they be fed? The government cannot feed, sufficiently, the men already in the field.
Everybody is conjecturing what Mr. Blair has proposed; but no one expects relief from his mission, if indeed he be clothed with diplomatic powers—which I doubt.
The President, I believe, is calm, relying upon the loyalty of his cabinet. But he is aware of the crisis; and I think his great reliance is on Gen. Lee, and herein he agrees with the people. What will be the issue of the present exigency, God only knows!
I believe there is a project on foot to borrow flour, etc. from citizens for Gen. Lee’s army. Many officers and men from the army are in the city to-day, confirming the reports of suffering for food in the field.
There is a rumor that Goldsborough has been taken.
Mr. Secretary Seddon is appointing men in the various districts of the city to hunt up speculators and flour; appointing such men as W. H. McFarland and others, who aspire to office by the suffrages of the people. They will not offend the speculators and hoarders by taking much flour from them. No—domiciliary visits with bayonets alone will suffice.
Of thirty Federal deserters sent to work on the fortifications of Lynchburg, all but four ran away.
It is understood that the President announced to Congress today the arrest of the Hon. H. S. Foote, member of that body, near Fredericksburg, while attempting to pass into the enemy’s lines. This, then, may have been Capt. Norton’s secret mission; and I believe the government had traps set for him at other places of egress. Meantime the enemy came in at Savannah. This is considered the President’s foible—a triumph over a political or personal enemy will occupy his attention and afford more delight than an ordinary victory over the common enemy. Most men will say Mr. Foote should have been permitted to go—if he desired it.
