Hickory Hill, S. C.,
February 1, 1865.
Fifteen miles to-day and had an excellent supper of South Carolina ham, honey and sweet potatoes. Found a good deal of road blockaded to-day, but the pioneers removed the obstructions so rapidly that the train did not have to halt once. The Rebels disputed our advance a little, killed a cavalryman and wounded another for us, but did not stop the column a moment. Sherman rode at the rear of our regiment all day and was quite sociable with some of the men. Don’t think any of the officers noticed him. Miserable pine land country, but some quite large plantations.
January 31, 1865.
Lay still all day. This place was a country summer resort. I was in a house to-day; the walls were rough boards white-washed, the floors were very rough, and I think had never been carpeted, yet the room was filled with mahogany furniture of the best quality, had a fine piano, splendid plate mirror, and a fine library. About 20 sets of buck horns were nailed to the walls in lines. Hear that the 17th Corps has crossed the Combahee. We hear that strict orders against burning and all foraging is to be done even more regularly than before.
McPhersonsville, S. C,
January 30, 1865.
We returned from Combahee river last night and at 10 p.m. received orders to move at 6 a.m. Came through Pocataligo and have made 14 miles to-day. Quite a place, but there is not even a clearing. Say 50 ordinary dwellings dropped down in the pine woods, and you have it. Not a citizen, white or black, here.
Combahee River, Charleston and Beaufort road,
January 29, 1865.
We have had some rich sport to-day. Our regiment and the 40th are out here on a little reconnoisance, and making a demonstration pretending to be building a bridge on the river, etc. A party of Rebels saluted our skirmishers when they got to the river bank with a volley, but the boys soon drove them off, with no loss to us (or the Rebels either). We lay around a couple of hours shooting at marks, etc., when a party of the Rebels attempted to reoccupy their pits. We saw them coming for a full mile and they had hardly got within the very longest range before the 40th sent them back flying. Later in the p.m. half a dozen Johnnies arose from the mud and weeds and though they were across the river, surrendered to us. They are really deserters, though they say not. Had a great time getting them over the river. Four board and log rafts were made, launched, and put off after them. Two of them were wrecked against the bridge benches, and the other two succeeded in bringing over three Johnnies; we left the other three there. I certainly would not have risked myself on one of those rafts for 500 prisoners or 5,000 deserters. General Hazen of our corps has been made a full major general. The other division commanders only by brevet, and they feel a little sore over it. To-day one of General Wood’s aids saw a turkey buzzard, and pointed it out to the general, saying, “there is a turkey.” Old Woods looked at it and answered, “I think that is a turkey by brevet.”
Six miles south of Combahee River,
January 28, 1865, 6 p.m.
The campaign commences Monday. It is yet cold; about an inch of ice forms every night, and sleeping out without tents is not a fair sample of paradise. I am in excellent health and we are all anxious to be en route.
Near Pocataligo, S. C., January 27, 1865.
Moved out at 7 a.m. this morning, crossed Broad river on pontoons, and are about four miles on the main land towards Charleston. Can’t tell our position, but here the Rebels hold all the crossings on the opposite side of the river six miles ahead and so far as reconnoitered, with fortifications and artillery.
The 17th Corps lay to our left extending across the C. & S. R. R. We made about 13 miles to-day. Saw some fine plantations on the road, nothing but chimneys in them, though. It feels good and homelike once more to be out loose. The boys all feel it and they act more like schoolboys, having a holiday, than the veterans they are. Wouldn’t it be a joke if we were to get badly whipped over this river? I believe it would do us good. We are too conceited. The river ahead is the Combahee, and we are 43 miles from Charleston on the C. & Beaufort road.
Near Beaufort, S. C., January 26, 1865.
We have had heavy rains and now very cold weather without being in the least prepared for it. We move tomorrow at 7 a.m. for the main land and forage.
All tents are to be left behind “until they can be forwarded by water.” That seems to point to a short and sharp campaign, and we all think Charleston is the objective point.
Steamer “Cosmopolitan,” bound to Beaufort from
Savannah, Ga.,
January 21, 1864. 1
I was at Beaufort some three days when I received a detail on a “military commission” to sit at headquarters, 4th Division of our corps at Savannah. Reported at Savannah on the 17th and found my commission had finished its business and adjourned, all of which satisfied me. Have been ever since trying to get back to the regiment, but all of the vessels which run on this line have been in use as lighters, transfering the 19th Corps (which now occupies Savannah) from the large steamers which have to stop at the bar up the river. This 19th Corps is a portion of Sheridan’s command and helped him win those glorious victories in the valley. They are a fine soldierly-looking body of men, but have already had some difficulty with our troops. As I left the city I saw the wind up of a snug little fight between a portion of the 20th and 19th Corps. Noticed about 40 bloody faces. All this kind of work grows out of corps pride. Fine thing, isn’t it, We left the wharf at 2 p.m. yesterday, grounded about 5 p.m., and had to wait for high tide, which came at midnight; then a heavy rain and fog set in and we have made little progress since. Are now, 11 a.m., at anchor, supposed to be near the mouth of Scull Creek waiting for the fog to clear up. I am terribly bored at being away from the regiment so long. I feel lost, out of place and blue. What glorious news from Fort Fisher, and what a horrid story that is about 13 out of the 15 prisoners the Rebels had of our regiment, dying of starvation. One of them, W. G. Dunblazier, was of my company, and a better boy or braver soldier never shouldered a musket. He was captured on the skirmish line at Dallas.
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1 This piece is dated January 1864 and sequenced in 1864 in the book. However, the events discussed and the location place it in 1865, which is where it is inserted here.
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.
On board the steamer Crescent, Atlantic Ocean,
January 12, 1865.
We are steaming on that rolling deep we’ve heard so much of, and which I have already seen and felt enough of. There is but little air stirring and the water is quite smooth, but so near the shore there is always a ground swell, which is to me somewhat demoralizing. We are out of sight of land and just before dark we saw a school of porpoise which looked just like a drove of hogs in the water. Some of the men wanted to go foraging when they saw them. This makes me quite dizzy, but I would not miss it on any account. I saw the full moon rise from the water about 6:30 p.m.
