Following the American Civil War Sesquicentennial with day by day writings of the time, currently 1863.

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Near Nottaway River, May 5, 1865.

Crossed the Meherrin river (a Copperas creek affair) this morning and pass through Laurenceburg, a 100-year old town, just as large as the top of a very small hill would hold. Such oceans of negroes; never saw half as many before in the same distance in Virginia. Sheridan was through this country ten days ago, but hearing that Johnston had surrendered he turned back. Kautz and Wilson were also raiding last summer, but there are no signs that war is known to the people by experience. We see Lee’s and Johnston’s men all along the road, taking a look at Sherman’s army. All the soldiers and citizens we see seem to submit to the Government, and the war feeling is dead among them, but there is no love for us or ours, and they regard us only as subjugators. That is as warm a sentiment as I ask from them. I believe every family has lost a member by the war. I saw a member of Pickett’s Rebel division this evening. He said that when his division surrendered to Grant, they stacked but 45 muskets. It was nearly 10,000 strong on the 24th of March, 1865.

This boy put in one of the 45 muskets. They all give Sheridan’s cavalry the credit for doing the best fighting they ever knew “Yanks” to do.

They all speak highly of our 6th (Wright’s) corps. The good conduct of our men continues even to the astonishment of the men themselves. I have heard of but one indiscretion, and that was only the carrying off of the table cutlery after dining with a citizen. We are traveling too fast, but our corps commanders are racing to see who will make Petersburg first. Heard of Booth being killed to-day. Also got a Herald of the 24th with Sherman and Johnston’s peace propositions. We are very much shocked at Sherman’s course. I have not heard an officer or soldier who had read them, sustain our general. It is hard on us and we regret his action as much as any calamity of the war, excepting the Washington horror. There isn’t an element of man worship in this army, but we all had such confidence in Sherman, and thought it almost impossible for him to make a mistake. The army is very sore over the affair. We can’t bear to have anybody say a word against Sherman, but he did act very strangely in this thing.

Chattanooga, Friday, May 5. No rain to cool the terrible air or lay the dust, which flies in heavy clouds, reminding one very vividly of old Spring Green prairie. Have been very busy all day, could not find time to write a letter. 7 A. M. went out for brigade drill by Major Mendenhall, but he did not come, so we had an interesting drill of our own. A. Sweet is bringing the Company up to its old Rienzi standard in drilling. Great strife among the detachments, both trying to come into battery first. Second piece is ready first every time. Returned to camp by 11, another hour in column to water and back.

After dinner went out to Mission Ridge after wood, two wagons and four men. At the picket post our gallant driver took up two of the fair ones, who after enjoying their quid of tobacco silently for a mile or so, said the ride “holped ’em right smart.” Drilled two hours after supper. Ration day. Drew two days’ rations of bread and three of hard-tack, no more soft bread to be issued. They want us to eat the surplus hard-tack. This is considered significant.

May 5.1—Since my return here, I have received a letter from a young lady in Texas, thanking me, in grateful terms, for some little attention I paid her brother, Mr. Angel, while in the Foard Hospital, wounded. She also says she is certain that, next to my own state, I cared most for Texas, as I wore a star on my hat while waiting on the Texas soldiers.

This caring for one state more than another is a feeling I have never experienced, and, indeed, I expect that, many a time, I have been guilty of slighting men from my own, as it had never been overrun by the enemy, and the men from it could communicate with their families, and so receive their aid.

I never approved of state hospitals, situated as we were. They would do with the northern people, where there was no foe, taking state after state from them, thereby shutting out all communication with homes and friends; but not here, where it was the duty of the more favored to aid their sister states in adversity.

I have often observed the spirit of rivalry existing between men from the different states. In many instances it has been made a subject for jesting; in others, it has been exhibited by a spirit of bitter prejudice. I have found a mixture of good and evil in them all.

The lowest and most degraded people I have ever met were in Tennessee, and the best educated and most polished men were also from that state.

The most unruly and dastardly in our hospitals have been from Louisiana; and yet, to be a Roman, in the palmiest days of that ancient republic, was no higher honor than to be a citizen of that state. The men from it have won laurels for bravery and heroism, that will long live in Story.

We all know what it is to be reputed a Virginian, a descendant of the ancient cavaliers and the nobles of France, who, rather than submit to a power that they thought had no right over them, left wealth, home, their native land, and emigrated where they could enjoy that

 

“Eternal spirit of the chainless mind,”

 

as best suited them.

The great Lee was deserted in his last extremity by hundreds of the Virginians.

I have often remarked that the men from Kentucky and Missouri were more intelligent and finer-looking, as a whole, than the men from the states further south. I have thought the reason was, that as a rule, none came from those states excepting the better class, and men who left their homes for pure patriotism, while from the other states we had all classes.

These two states were represented in our army by some of the noblest and most dauntless of men; and yet I could relate instances where some of them strayed widely from the right path.

Texans and Arkansians I can say but little about, excepting what we all know— their faultless bravery on every battle-field. I may say the same of South Carolinians and Marylanders, who boast of their descent from the same ancient lineage as the Virginians.

But I have forgotten an incident which happened to me some time ago. I was in company with an officer from South Carolina, whose actions I did not think entitled him to the name of gentleman. I related the circumstance to a friend, a native of the same state, and jestingly told her I was done with it forever. She asked me if I would cast aside a roll of bank bills because it had a counterfeit in it.

Mississippi I have heard abused for every thing that was contemptible, and yet, when the history of this war is written, no pages in it will boast of brighter stars than the names of the gallant men from that state. And in all the places I have been I have never seen any thing to equal the enthusiasm and patriotism which I met there.

Georgia, poor abused Georgia! no state in the Confederacy came forward with more alacrity than she did at every call for troops, and I expect none has surpassed her for liberality in providing for the sick and wounded. In this respect Atlanta can vie with any city. The ladies of it have worked assiduously, year after year, for the sufferers. It was a hospital from the evacuation of Bowling Green until the time of its fall.

North Carolina and Florida, like others, had lights and shadows. Of the former I know but little, excepting the records of the deeds of bravery of her noble sons on the battle-field. Florida, being a small state, could send fewer troops to the field, but did not send fewer in proportion to her population. She can compete with any of them in every thing that is good and gallant.

Of my own state, Alabama, I need say but little, as acts speak louder than words, and I have already recorded enough of them to tell how her people have suffered, and what their character has been.

There are no Federal troops sent here yet to garrison the town. We all think that their presence would be of benefit, as all southern rule is now dead, and we have no law.

Scarcely a day passes without our hearing of some outrage committed by men calling themselves returned Confederates. The other day a band of them went to the house of a gentleman living near here, who had some gold and silver. They told him if he did not give it up they would hang him. He stoutly refused; they took his wife and commenced hanging her before his eyes. So he gave them every cent he had. They were closely disguised.

Another case, but one more excusable, happened in town. Some poor women, headed by one or two men, went to the house of a lady, and demanded some commissary stores which they thought she had, as they said they were starving. There were men enough in the house to prevent them doing any harm.

Many laugh at the idea of these people starving. I do not. One of the men who headed this party is Mr. Love, who once had charge of our wash-house. I have been to see his family, and found him an invalid, and his family on the very brink of starvation. I could do nothing for them, so did not go back. God pity them and all such! Mr. Love was in the Cherokee Hospital before I went to it; was a quiet, inoffensive, and truly honest man.

A little while before the war closed, when there was a call for troops, Dr. de Yampert, thinking Mr. Love was lit for field service, sent him to the army. His wife and children had to leave with him. As our government had not paid any one in months, they had no money. A few of the good people of Griffin gave them some; Dr. de Y. also gave them a little out of the hospital fund.

Mr. L. brought his family here, and joined the army, I believe, at Macon. He had not marched far when his old disease, the dropsy, came back; and when I saw him his feet were so swollen that he could not walk. He was one of the “hospital rats.”

I am told that the people of Georgia are collecting provisions and money for the destitute in their state, and that the Federals are giving them rations.

Some Federals have been here from Atlanta; they came for the purpose of visiting their relatives’ graves, men who were killed near here last summer; some of their comrades had marked the graves. These men behaved very gentlemanly.

Mrs. Bell, a relative of Mrs. D.’s, a warm-hearted southerner and an excellent lady, has been here lately. The battle near here last year was not far from her farm. And at the present time one of our men, Rev. Mr. Hudson, is lying in her house, helpless from a wound near the spine, received then. He is a Presbyterian minister, and was a chaplain in Ross’s Texas cavalry. Mrs. B. says he is as helpless as a child, and one of his companions has been with him all the time nursing him. She says his patience and endurance are above all praise.

Newnan, like every other town in the confederacy, has her array of martyrs. The war has cast the mantle of sorrow over many households. The whole country has lost heavily. Mr. S. Martin, who is over sixty years of age, entered the service at the commencement of the war, along with four or five sons. Two or three of them are now sleeping their last sleep, and another has lost his arm in the service. Mr. Thurmond and Mr. Brown have each lost two sons; Major Kendrick, whom I have heard spoken of as being a good citizen and a brave soldier, was killed. It would be useless for me to mention them all, as there is scarcely a family in the whole county but that has to mourn the loss of a loved one.

My friend, Captain Brooks, had a brother killed, and has another who lost an arm in the service. Captain B. was in the state service, and had a very narrow escape in a battle near Macon. Mrs. B. showed me a shawl that he had on at the time, which is completely riddled with bullets, and he did not receive a scratch.

Colonel Berry, whom I met one evening at Mr. Dougherty’s, a relative of Mr. D.’s., is now suffering from his sixth or seventh wound, and it is supposed he is a cripple for life.

There is a gentleman and his family here who have just come from Auburn, Alabama, and report great difficulty in getting on, as every bridge between West Point and Montgomery has been destroyed. He has just returned from a long sojourn in a northern prison, and gives horrible accounts of the ill-treatment of himself and companions. His feelings against the North are very bitter. He is a highly intelligent man; I believe was editor of a newspaper in Atlanta. We hear many recitals from returned prisoners, such as this gentleman has given us.

One gentleman told me that he had seen as many as six carried from their bunks at one time, frozen to death. At night a sentinel went round, and if they had more than one blanket on, no matter how cold the night, it was taken from them. Another told me that they had been kept for days without food or water, and a table filled with all kinds of dainties set so they could see it, and told if they would take the oath of allegiance to the United States they could have them. He knew of one poor fellow who did take the oath, but says his mind was almost gone, and when he got the food, his tongue was so swollen for want of water, that he could not eat.

Ono young man, who was confined at Camp Douglas, told me that it was common for them, whenever they heard of their army being defeated, to keep the prisoners for days without food or water. And he knew of one young man who went out and picked up a handful of snow to put to his parched lips, when a sentinel shot him dead. My narrator told me he helped to carry in the young man’s body. These are only a few of the evils which were inflicted on our men. How hard it is to suppress feelings of hate for our enemy! I feel as confident as I am living, that God, in his own good time, will avenge our wrongs.

When I think of the kind treatment that our people bestowed on the prisoners here, bad off for food as we were, did I think otherwise, it would be contrary to the faith I have in the justice of God.

A few days ago a speech was published in the papers, made by President Johnson to the Indiana delegation. It seems to have struck dismay to many a heart, and if he carries out what he says in it, I am confident the war is not over yet, for I have watched the countenances of some men, who I have been told never favored the war or secession, and I think they expressed a determination that, if there should be another war, they would assist in it, heart and soul.

If President Johnson wants the southern people to be more inimical to the North than even this war has made them, he will carry out the policy indicated in that speech; but, if he wishes the North and South to be united in spirit, as well as in the form, he will adopt another.

“God has implanted a desire to resist oppression in the nature of every man,” and “even the smallest worm will turn, being trodden on.”

What wound was ever healed by continual irritation. Have we not been wounded? God knows how terribly! Grant that we were in the wrong, are we the only people who have erred? Let him recollect that,

 

“We’re the sons of sires that baffled

Crowned and mitred tyranny;

They defied the field and scaffold,

For their birth-right, so will we.”

 

We are of the same indomitable race as himself. We have not been conquered, for that would be a disgrace to him, as well as us; but we have been overpowered by numbers, and in no craven spirit would I tell him, for we and all we have are in his power, that forbearance and magnanimity are godlike virtues, while cruelty and revenge characterize the dastard; and that if he wishes to make a name for himself, such as mortal man has never had before, by bringing two such adverse spirits together, in peace and harmony, it will never be done by oppression. History gives us no such examples.

O, if I had the ability to write to him, as did the lamented Bishop Otey to Seward, at the out-break of the war, and plead with him, in earnest tones, to let dove-eyed peace reign where cruel war has been sole monarch—with the hope that my appeal would not be in vain as was Bishop Otey’s—how earnestly I would pray to him to have peace, and peace alone, as his sole aim!

God grant that some wise and able advocate may rise in our behalf, and that ere long, peace, with all its blessings, may reign over our now distracted land I

To the people of the South I would also say a few words. Our doom is sealed; we are in the power of the North. Our representative man a prisoner; our armies vanquished—or, those which are not soon will be. Have we done our duty? Have the planters given of the abundance of their harvests to the poor women and children of soldiers who were fighting to save their wealth? But I should not say poor, for that is not the word; none were poor whose husbands, sons, and brothers offered up their lives a sacrifice for liberty! No money can buy such riches.

Have no native southern men remained at home, when their country had need of their strong arms, speculating on what the planters charged so much for, doubly taking the bread out of these same poor, yet rich, soldiers’ families’ mouths?

Have no native southern quartermasters and commissaries robbed these poor, yet rich soldiers, who walked boldly up to the cannon’s mouth, regardless of consequences? They have starved, gone ragged and barefooted through burning suns and chilling frosts, while these delinquent commissaries and quartermasters have lived on the best of the land, and worn the finest clothes to be had.

Have the examining surgeons conscientiously worked, sending none to the field but those who were fit for field service? And none who would have served their country better and more effectively had they been left at home to till the ground, thereby making food for the army and themselves?

Have the conscript officers taken none for the army, that the surgeons had discharged some three or four times, and sent them to the field; they dying before it was ever reached?

Have the stewards and foragers, in hospitals, never speculated on food sold them, much cheaper by the farmers, because it was for the soldiers and the cause; and have they never robbed the government of the money appropriated by it to buy food for the wounded and sick soldiers?

Have there been no officers, to whose keeping mothers have entrusted their young sons—they promising to guide and protect them; but who, as soon as away from all restraint, forgot all obligations, and took advantage of the position the war had given to them to act the tyrant in a thousand petty ways, inducing many of the men to do what they would otherwise never have thought of?

Have all the young native southerners who cried secession, and war to the knife, before the war broke out, gone into the field when their country was bleeding at every pore?

Have all the Christian and refined women of the South, who had no household duties to attend, gone into the hospitals, nursed the wounded and sick, preparing little delicacies, which no man has ever been able to do, for the poor bed-ridden soldier, who had lost all but honor for his country; and, when his hours were numbered, stood by his bedside when no wife, mother, or sister was there, to soothe his last moments and lift his thoughts to the Cross whereon his Redeemer had died, and to that heaven where he was waiting with open arms to receive the departing spirit?

Have the women of the South never passed by, in disdain, a ragged and wounded soldier, who had suffered more than words can express? In a word, have the women of the South done their whole duty; and can the southern people, as a whole, say they have fully done their duty?

It is all over with, some will say, and why bring those things in review before us, as it can do no good. It is not all over with. Men and women of the South, there is much yet to be done.

 

“What are monuments of bravery

Where no public virtues bloom?”

 

What though we had gained our independence, while all these sins were crying out against us, could we have expected, as a nation, to go on in them and prosper? Never! We should have worked our own downfall as we have now done.

Had we been true to our God and country, with all the blessings of this glorious, sunny land, I believe we could have kept the North, with all her power, at bay for twenty years.

What I would ask now, is for the southern people to look to themselves, forgetting all the wrongs inflicted on us by our foe in the knowledge that we have sinned against each other. I do not mean that we should forget all we have suffered, for that would dishonor the glorious dead. I mean, to stop all useless recriminations. They will do us no good now. Let us look to ourselves; “raise monuments where public virtues bloom.” Let us leave the North to itself, with all its isms, to answer for its own sins. I think we have as many as we can see to.

To professed Christians, north and south, I would say, much, very much, depends on you. If you quarrel with each other, in the name of every thing that is good and holy, what will become of us?

When God’s kingdom on earth fails to teach peace and good will towards men, are we to turn to the kingdom of the evil one for it? There are only the two.

Christians, look to it! “Be not deceived. God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap.” Do not the northern and the southern Christians expect to go to the same heaven? There will be no North and South there. If we can not like each other well enough in God’s kingdom on earth to eat at the same communion table, can any of us expect to sit down at the great supper of the Lamb,

 

“Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet,

Their Savior and brethren transported to greet?”

 

O, I trust that God’s hand will yet be seen in all of this! and that, ere long, the Church will rise in all her glorious majesty, casting out those who have made God’s house a den of thieves, instead of the temple where we are to learn of that blessed land,

 

“Where the rivers of pleasure flow o’er the bright plains,

And the noontide of glory eternally reigns.”

 


1 Since this entry is after the entry for May 14 in the book, the date should probably be May 15 instead of May 5 – Mike Goad, 10/1/13

Friday, 5th—It is quite warm. We left our bivouac at 3 a. m. and by 6 o’clock had crossed the Roanoke river. It is a fine stream. One of our drivers had an exciting experience in crossing the river last night, over the pontoon bridge. When he reached the middle of the bridge his leading mules became frightened at the cracks between the boards and turned right around, upsetting the whole thing, and the six mules, wagon and all went overboard. When the driver saw what was going to happen, quick as a flash, he dropped down upon the bridge between the wheel mules and the wagon, thus saving himself. The mules and wagon were never seen again, as the Roanoke is very deep. We crossed the State line into old Virginia at 6:30 this morning. At 1 p. m. we crossed the Meherrin river and after marching twenty-six miles for the day went into bivouac. We have fine roads. News came that the two men who killed the president and stabbed Seward had been shot. All is quiet.

5th. Uncle Dan, Aunts Roxena and Rhodilla, with the good Cousins Ella and Alonzo, came on morning train. Spent the P. M. at Minnie’s. Went with the girls, Minnie and Ella, to Watson’s and Platt’s to see Carpenter’s picture of Lincoln and his cabinet. Had a first rate time at home eating philopenas with the girls.

May 5th. Detailed for guard duty in town. Placed in charge of a rebel Major, who made claim of being on General Early’s staff. I was informed that he was placed under arrest because he had broken his parole. Appeared on the streets of his home town, Shepardstown, Virginia, in full uniform, making a show of himself, and insulting loyal people, for which he was waiting to be tried by a court-martial. He was confined in a room in the basement of an old church. I had three men on duty with me, making three reliefs. Guarding him was a tiresome job. When night came he told me not to sit up all night, he would not attempt to get away. I made up my mind that he would not get a chance, as I would not take any chances with a rebel. I did my duty. Sat up all night and changed my reliefs every two hours. While he was agreeable to me I formed an opinion of him. Thought him rather mean, but I used him well.

Washington, May 5, 1865.

Dearest: — I am here in Judge Johnston’s pleasant quarters, established in a homelike way. Dined with Charley Anderson at Governor Dennison’s yesterday. All talk of you. . . .

I am yet undecided as to when I go out, etc., etc., but soon. My trip with you is not any more probable, but keep ready a little while longer. We shall be together very soon somewhere. If at Chillicothe, you must get an extra room for a short time.

I am meditating this, to quietly determine, for my own and your knowledge, to quit public life as soon as my term in Congress ends. That fixed, then at once either open a law office in Cincinnati as soon as I resign, or prepare a home at Fremont. Don’t worry over it, but think of it and when we meet we will confer. — Love to the dear ones.

Ever affectionately,

R

Mrs. Hayes.

May 5, 1865.—I arrived at Newnan to-day at 11 A. M., having left Griffin yesterday. On the train to Atlanta I met my friend, Dr. Hughes, on his way to this place; also Dr. Archer. The latter had been an assistant surgeon in one of the hospitals at this post. He is from Maryland, and like many others, since our failure, does not relish the idea of going back.

Major Fleming, inspector of the Mobile and Ohio Railroad, was on the train. He had left Mobile before the attack, on his way to Richmond, to collect some millions of dollars, which the government owed the railroad company. He turned back, as Richmond had fallen. He had just come from North Carolina, and informed us that Mrs. General J. E. Johnston and Mrs. Jeff. Davis had gone, under his charge, to ——, N. C. Mrs. Davis had her children with her; the youngest, an infant, some few months old. On arriving at —— every house was thrown open to receive Mrs. J., but he had gone from house to house with Mrs. D. and not one door would open to receive her; after awhile he prevailed on a Jewish lady to take her in. “Alas 1 how the mighty have fallen.” Does not this recital fill the mind with pity, for poor frail humanity? Scarcely one, in this whole town, brave enough to receive the wife of him who but a short time ago “all delighted to honor,” but now a houseless wanderer in the land which he has presided over with a wisdom, dignity, and statesmanship which has perhaps never been excelled.

Major F. also told us that it was believed President Davis, accompanied by a number of troops, was trying to make his escape, and cross the Mississippi, to join Kirby Smith’s army, who were in Louisiana. Many say, had the latter been on this side of the Mississippi, we should not be in the position in which we now are. From Jonesboro to Atlanta was one scene of desolation. There, day after day, the brave men of our army had struggled to maintain their rights, against overwhelming numbers. The woods showed how desperately each side had fought for mastery. Large oaks were riven asunder, their branches broken, and scattered all around. Ever and anon we saw the intrenchments which our brave fellows had thrown up; many a time working all night long, after fighting and marching.

We saw many a field hospital. The bunks, made of the branches of trees, were left standing where the poor sufferers had lain, and where numbers of them had breathed their last. Near the hospital, the graveyards were to be seen, where, side by side, lay friend and foe.

 

“And we can only dimly guess

What worlds of all this world’s distress,

What utter woe, despair, and dearth,

Their fate has brought to many a hearth.”

 

As we neared Atlanta, the scene was one of desolation and ruin. As far as the eye could reach, pile after pile of blackened brick could be seen, where once had stood stately mansions, that Atlanta was so large a place as it is. There being few or no buildings, trees, or any thing else left standing, we had a full view of its extent.

We had to remain in Atlanta all night, and as there were no hotels, stayed at the house of Dr. Powell, Mrs. Byrom’s brother; she had just arrived from a hospital in Macon. Mrs. Dr. P. had also just returned. She, like others, had been driven from her home by the remorseless Sherman. Their house had not been treated as badly as the others. It had been the head-quarters of one of the generals. The glorious star-spangled banner had been sketched on all its walls.

This morning, when we came down to the depot, it was almost impossible to find where it had been. I never expected to see such utter destruction as we there beheld. The meanest building on that street—the old Gate City Hospital—was left untouched. It served as a mark, to show us where we were. Opposite it, formerly the Front House, the Atlanta Hotel, the banks, and many other large buildings had stood, of which not one stone is now left upon another. In the front yard of where the Atlanta Hotel once stood were some graves.

My heart sickened as I looked around, for every thing bespoke the malignity of the foe. The modern Tartars had done their work well. They will reap their reward.

There had been no Federal troops there since Sherman left. A garrison of them had just arrived, and were about to plant the stars and stripes over the city, or rather the ruins.

There were many Confederate soldiers there, returning to their homes. They treated the Federals with perfect indifference.

At the depot we met Dr. Burks and Mr. Catlet. They were on their way to Kentucky. Both have suffered much. Dr. B. spent quite a fortune in the Confederate cause. Mr. C. told me that some of our men, on the trains to Atlanta, had quarreled with the Federals; and no wonder. I advised him, and all I saw, to treat them with perfect indifference, as we were in their power, and none but cowards would taunt a fallen foe. If we quarreled with them, we put ourselves on their level.

Mrs. B. came down to the depot with us. I felt sad at bidding her, and the rest of my friends good-by. We had been associated with each other through much tribulation, little thinking that it would amount to nothing.

On the road to Newnan the cars were densely crowded with our soldiers. I noticed Senators Clay and Wigfall. I had just read an article written by the latter, in defense of General Johnston, which I much admired.

I found my Newnan friends, Mr. D.’s family, well, with the exception of one, an old lady, who is supposed to be at the point of death.