March Through South Carolina, February and March, 1865.
When Sherman put this mighty machine of war in motion, Kershaw's Brigade was hurried back to Charleston and up to George's Station, then to the bridge on the Edisto. Raiding parties were out in every direction, destroying bridges and railroads, and as the Southern Army had no pontoon corps nor any methods of crossing the deep, sluggish streams in their rear but by bridges, it can be seen that the cutting of one bridge alone might be fatal to the army. It was discovered early in the march that Sherman did not intend to turn to the right or the left, but continue on a direct line, with Columbia as the center of operations. We were removed from the Edisto back to Charleston, and up the Northeastern Railroad to St. Stephen's, on the Santee. It was feared a raiding party from Georgetown would come up the Santee and cut the bridge, thereby isolating the army Hardee had in Charleston and vicinity. Slowly Sherman "dragged his weary length along." On the 13th of February the corps of General Blair reached Kingsville and drove our pickets away from the bridge over the Congaree.
On the 15th of February the advance column of the Twentieth Corps came in sight of Columbia. All the bridges leading thereto were burned and the Southern troops withdrawn to the eastern side. Frank Blair's Corps left the road leading to Columbia at Hopkin's, and kept a direct line for Camden. Another corps, the Fifteenth, crossed the Broad at Columbia, while the Fourteenth and Twentieth were to cross at Freshley's and Alston. Orders had been given to evacuate Charleston, and all the troops under General McLaws, at Four Hole Swamp, and along the coast were to rendezvous at St. Stephen's, on the Santee, and either make a junction with the Western Army at Chester, S.C., or if not possible, to continue to Chesterfield or Cheraw. The plan of the [514] campaign was now to concentrate all the forces of Hood's State Troops and Hardee's at some point in upper South Carolina or in North Carolina, and make one more desperate stand, and by united action crash and overthrow Sherman's Army, thereby relieving Lee.
On the morning of the 16th of February the enemy, without any warning whatever, began shelling the city of Columbia, filled with women and children. Now it must be remembered that this was not for the purpose of crossing the river, for one of Sherman's corps had already crossed below the city and two others above. One shell passed through the hotel in which General Beauregard was at the time, others struck the State House, while many fell throughout the city. General Hampton withdrew his small force of cavalry early on the morning of the 17th, and the Mayor of the city met an officer of the Federal Army under a flag of truce and tendered him the surrender of the city, and claimed protection for its inhabitants. This was promised.
All during the day thousands of the enemy poured into the city, General Sherman entering about midday. Generals Davis' and Williams' Corps crossed the Saluda and continued up on the western bank of Broad River, one crossing ten, the other twenty-five miles above Columbia. The people of Columbia had hopes of a peaceful occupation of the city, but during the day and along towards nightfall, the threatening attitude of the soldiers, their ominous words, threats of vengeance, were too pretentious for the people to misunderstand or to expect mercy. These signs, threats, and mutterings were but the prelude to that which was to follow.
About 9 o'clock P.M. the alarm of fire was given and the dread sound of the fire bells, mingled with the hum and roar of ten thousand voices and the tread of as many troops hurrying to and fro on their cursed mission, could be heard by the now thoroughly frightened populace. The people, with blanched countenances, set features, looked in mute silence into the faces of each other. All knew and felt, but dared not even to themselves to whisper, the unmistakable truth. Now another alarm, another fire bell mingles its sound with the general chorus of discord, shouts of the soldiery, the frightened cries of the people—jells of the drunken troops all a scathing, maddening [515] turbulance in the crowded streets. A lurid glare shoots up above the housetops, then the cracking and roaring of the dread elements told but too plainly that the beautiful city was soon to be wrapped in flames. The sack and pillage had begun!
Few men being in the city, the women, with rare heroism, sought to save some little necessities of life, only to see it struck to the floor or snatched from their hands and scattered in the streets. Here would be a lone woman hugging an infant to her breast, with a few strips of clothing hanging on her arms; helpless orphans lugging an old trunk or chest, now containing all they could call their own—these would be snatched away, broken open, contents rifled by the drunken soldiers, or if not valuable, trampled under foot.
Soldiers, with axes and hammers, rushed from house to house, breaking in doors, smashing trunks, boxes, bureaus, and robbing them of all that was valuable, then leaving the house in flames. Helpless women, screaming children, babes in the arms, invalids on beds, jolted and jostled against the surging mob—none to help, none to advise—these defenseless sufferers rushed aimlessly about, their sole purpose being to avoid the flames and seek a place of safety. The fires originated principally in the southern section of the city, and as the fire eat its way up, the howling throng followed, driving the innocent and helpless ahead.
As the night wore on, the drunken soldiers, first made intoxicated by the wine in private cellars or the liquors in the government buildings, now became beastly drunk in their glee at the sight of the destruction they had wrought. The women and children followed the dark back-ground of that part of the city not yet in flames. The Federal officers, instead of offering assistance or a helping hand to the ruined and distressed people, added insult to injury by joining in with the private soldiers in the plundering of the city, insulting the women and adding fuel to the flame.
All night long did the flames rage, leap, and lick the clouds as one block of buildings after another fell—food for the devouring elements. This drunken orgies was kept up until their craven hearts were fully satisfied. A few squares in the north-eastern part of the city were left, also several churches, and into these the women and children were huddled and packed, and had to remain for days and some [516] for weeks, almost on the verge of starvation. The Federal commander, through the boundless dictates of his sympathetic heart, after destroying all that fire and rapine could reach, left the starving thousands a few rations each of the plunder he had robbed of the planters in the country.
No vehicles nor horses were left in the city's limits—the bridges burned that led across the river to the west. To the east, Blair's Corps was laying waste everything in their pathway, while above and below the city, for a distance of fifty miles, Sherman had swept the country as bare as if a blight had fallen upon it. How the people of Columbia subsisted during the time they were penned in the city churches and the few buildings left, will ever remain a mystery, and to none so much as the sufferers themselves.
Grains of corn were eagerly picked up in the streets as they dropped from the wagons, and the women and children of the lower class and the negroes flocked to the deserted camps to gather up the crumbs left by the soldiers or the grains trampled under foot of the horses.
Every house in a stretch of fifty miles was entered and insults and indignities offered the defenseless women which would have shamed the savage Turk. Ladies were forced to disclose, at the point of the pistol or the sabre, the hiding-place of their little valuables. Some were forced to cook meals and wait upon the hell hounds, while they regaled themselves upon the choice viands of medicinal wines of the planters' wives. But be it known to their immortal honor, that it was only on the most rare occasions that these proud dames of the South could, either by threat or brutal treatment, be forced to yield to their insolent demands. With the orders from the soldiers to "prepare a meal" or "disclose the whereabouts of their money or valuables," came the threat, "We will burn your house if you do not." But almost invariably came the quick response, "Burn it, burn it, you cowardly wretches, and kill me, if you wish, and all of us, but I will never soil my hands by waiting upon a cowardly Yankee, nor tell you the place of concealment—find it if you can." The soldiers would question the negroes to find out if there were any watches, silver plate, or money belonging to the household; if so, they would, by a system of inquisition, attempt to force the women to give it up, but in vain.
A woman, Mrs. Miller, the wife of a neighbor of mine, had her husband's gold watch in her bosom, and refused to give it up when demanded, even when a cocked pistol was at her head. The vandal struck her a stunning blow with the butt end of the pistol—all in vain. The brave heroine held to the heirloom, and stoutly resisted all entreaties and threats.
Two old people living near me, brother and maiden sister, named Loner, both pass three scores, were asked to give their money. They had none. But one of the ruffians threw a fire brand under the bed, saying:
"I will put it out if you will tell me where you keep your money; you have it, for I've been so informed."
"Let it burn," answered the old women. "Do you think to frighten or intimidate me by burning my house that I will tell what I choose to conceal? Do you think I care so much for my house and its belongings? No, no; you mistake the women of the South. You will never conquer her people by making war upon defenseless women. Let the house go up in flames, and my ashes mingle with its ashes, but I will remain true to myself, my country, and my God."
Soon all that was left of the once happy home was a heap of ashes. Will God, in His wisdom, ever have cause to again create such women as those of the Southland? Or were there ever conditions in the world's history that required the presence of such noble martyrdom as was displayed by the women of the South during the Civil War?
But a Nemesis in this case, as in many others, was lurking near. Bands of Confederates and scouts had scattered themselves on the flanks and rear of the enemy; old men and boys and disabled veterans were lying in wait in many thickets and out of the way places, ready to pounce upon the unsuspecting freebooters and give to them their just deserts. Was it any wonder that so many hundreds, nay thousands, of these Goths failed to answer to Sherman's last roll call? Before the sun was many hours older, after the burning of the Loner homestead, the dreaded "bushwhackers" were on the trail of the vandals.
For years afterwards people, from curiosity, came to look at a heap of human bones in a thicket near, bleached by winter's rain and summer's sun, while some of the older men, pointing to the ghostly relics, [518] would say, "Those are the remains of Sherman's houseburners." And such were the scenes from the Saltkahatchie to the Cape Fear. Who were to blame?
Sherman now directs his march towards Winnsboro and Chester, still in the four great parols, burning and plundering as they go. It seems that in their march through Georgia they were only whetting their appetites for a full gorge of vandalism in South Carolina. After their carnival of ruin in Columbia the Federals, like the tiger, which, with the taste of blood, grows more ravenous, they became more destructive the more destruction they saw. Great clouds of black smoke rose up over the whole county and darkened the sky overhead, while at night the heavens were lit up by the glare of the burning buildings. The railroad tracks were torn up and bridges burned, the iron being laid across heaps of burning ties, then when at red heat, were wrapped around trees and telegraph posts—these last through pure wantonness, as no army was in their rear that could ever use them again.
While that part of Sherman's Army was crossing Broad River at Alston and Freshley's, and the other near Ridgeway, General Hampton wrote General Beauregard to concentrate all his forces at or near the latter place by shipping Hardee and all forces under him at once by railroad—Stephenson's Division of Western men, now with Hampton and all the cavalry to fall upon the Fifteenth Corps, under Blair, and crush it before the other portions of the army could reach it. He argued that the enemy was marching so wide apart, the country so hilly, and the roads in Fairfield County almost impassable, that one wing of the army could be crushed before the other could reach it. But General Beauregard telegraphed him, "The time is past for that move. While it could have been done at the Edisto or Branchville, it is too late now."
On the night of the 17th and morning of the 18th Charleston was evacuated. Before the commencement of the retirement, orders were given by General Beauregard to General Hardee to withdraw the troops in the following order, but General Hardee being sick at this time, the execution of the order devolved upon General McLaws: One brigade of Wright's Division, in St. Paul's Parish, to move by railroad to Monk's Corner, then march by Sandy Run to the Santee; the other portion of Wright's Division to move by Summerville to St. Stephen's. The troops in Christ Church Parish to go by steamer to St. Stephen's. [519] The troops from James' Island to move out by Ashley's Ferry and follow the Northeastern railroad, to be followed in turn by all the troops in the city. McLaws was to withdraw from Sherman's front at Branchville and follow on to St. Stephen's. After all the troops were here congregated, the line of march was taken up in the direction of Cheraw. Away to our left we could see the clouds of smoke rise as houses went up in flames, while forest fires swept the country far and wide. It was not fully understood to what point Sherman was making, until he reached Winnsboro. Here he turned the course of direction by turning to the right, crossing the Catawba at Pea's Ferry and Rocky Mount, the right wing under General Howard, at Pea's; the left, under General Slocum, at Rocky Mount, all marching to form a junction again at Cheraw. Sherman did not dare to trust himself far in the interior for any length of time, but was marching to meet the fleet that had left him at Savannah and the troops under Schofield, at Newbern, N.C. This is the reason he turns his course towards the sea coast. Raiding parties, under Kilpatrick, were sent out in the direction of Darlington and Lancaster, burning and plundering at will.
About this time Fort Fisher and all the works at the mouth of the Cape Fear River fell into the hands of the enemy. Wilmington surrendered and General Bragg, who was in command there, retreated to Goldsboro.
How, in the face of all these facts, could it be possible for Generals to deceive themselves or to deceive others, or how President Davis could have such delusive hopes, is now impossible to comprehend. On February 22nd, after the fall of Wilmington, the Army of Sherman was on the border of North Carolina, while Hood's was straggling through the upper part of this State, with no prospects of forming a junction with Beauregard. President Davis wrote on that day:
"General Beauregard: I have directed General J.E. Johnston to assume command of the Southern Army and assign you to duty with him. Together, I feel assured you will beat back Sherman."
To add one man, even if a great commander, would add but little strength to any army, already exhausted beyond the hope of recuperation, still "You will beat Sherman back!" the President writes. I for one cannot see how a General could receive such an order [520] at such time in any other spirit than ridicule. President Davis, even after the fall of Richmond and the battle of Bettonville fought, where Johnston tried once more to "beat back Sherman" and failed—after all the circumstances and conditions were given to him in detail—said, "The struggle could be still carried on to a successful issue by bringing out all our latent resources; that we could even cross the Mississippi River, join forces with Kirby Smith, and prolong the war indefinitely." Was there ever such blind faith or dogged tenacity of purpose? Did Mr. Davis and our Generals really believe there was still a chance for a successful issue at this late day, or was it the knowledge of the disposition of the troops whom they knew would rather suffer death than defeat.
It must, within all reason, have been the latter, for no great commander cognizant of all the facts could have been so blind. Even while the Confederate troops were overwhelmed by numbers, communications cut on all sides, all out posts and the borders hemmed in one small compass, some of our soldiers entered a publishing house in Raleigh, destroyed all the type, broke the presses, and demolished the building—all this because the editor of the paper advised the giving up of the contest! Did the soldiers of the South believe as yet that they were beaten? Circumstances and their surly moods say not. Well might a commander or executive have apprehensions of his personal safety should he counsel submission as long as there was a soldier left to raise a rifle or draw a lanyard. I ask again was there ever before such troops as those of the South? Will there ever be again?
Kershaw's Brigade, now attached to Hardee's Corps, reached Cheraw about the first of March, but the enemy's advance was at Chesterfield, causing Hardee to continue his march by Rockinham on to Fayetteville, N.C., near which place the two armies, that is the one under Hampton and the other under Hardee, came together. Hardee having recovered from his indisposition, relieved General McLaws, the latter returning to Augusta, Ga. Kershaw's Brigade was soon after put in Wathal's Division.
On the 22nd of February General Jos. E. Johnston, who was then living at Lincolnton, N.C., was called from his retirement and placed in command of all the troops in North and South Carolina and Georgia. Although the army was nothing more than detachments, and widely [521] separated and greatly disorganized when he reached them, still they hailed with delight the appointment of their former faithful old commander. His one great aim was the convergence of the various armies to one point in front of the enemy and strike a blow at either one or more of his columns, either at Fayetteville or at the crossing of the Cape Fear River. Hardee had been racing with Sherman to reach Cheraw and cross the PeeDee before Sherman could come up. He only accomplished this after many forced marches by "the skin of his teeth," to use a homely expression. He crossed the PeeDee one day ahead of the enemy, burning the bridge behind him, after moving all the stores that were possible. The right wing, under General Howard, crossed the PeeDee at Cheraw, while the left, under Slocum, crossed higher up, at Sneedsboro. Hampton was forced to make a long detour up the PeeDee and cross at the fords along the many little islands in that stream.
On the 8th of March General Bragg, with Hoke's Division, reinforced by a division under D.H. Hill, of Johnston's command, numbering in all about two thousand, attacked three divisions under General Cox, at Kiniston, defeating him with much loss, capturing one thousand five hundred prisoners and three pieces of artillery.
During the campaign our cavalry was not idle on the flanks or front of Sherman, but on the contrary, was ever on the alert, striking the enemy wherever possible. General Butler intercepted and defeated a body of Federals on their way to destroy the railroad at Florence, at or near Mount Elan. General Wheeler, also, at Homesboro, came up with the enemy, and after a spirited brush, drove the enemy from the field, capturing a number of prisoners. Again, near Rockinham, the same officer put the enemy to rout. General Kilpatrick had taken up camp on the road leading to Fayetteville, and commanding that road which was necessary for the concentration of our troops. In the night General Hampton, after thoroughly reconnoitering the position, surrounded the camp of Kilpatrick, and at daybreak, on the 10th, fell like a hurricane upon the sleeping enemy. The wildest confusion prevailed; friend could not be distinguished from foe. Shooting and saber slashing were heard in every direction, while such of the enemy who could mounted their horses and rode at break-neck speed, leaving their [522] camp and camp equippage, their artillery and wagon trains. The enemy was so laden with stolen booty, captured in the Carolinas and Georgia, that this great treasure was too great a temptation to the already demoralized cavalry. So, instead of following up their victory, they went to gathering the spoils. Hundreds of horses were captured, but these ran off by our troops forcing all the artillery captured to be abandoned, after cutting the wheels to pieces. But the long train of wagons, laden with supplies, was a good addition to our depleted resources. A great number of the enemy were killed and wounded, with five hundred prisoners, besides recapturing one hundred and fifty of our own troops taken in former battles.
General Johnston now ordered the troops of General Bragg who had come up from Kiniston and the Western troops, under Stuart, Cheatham, and Lee, as well as a part of Hardee's, to concentrate at Smithfield. The bulk of Hardee's Corps, of which Kershaw's Brigade was a part, withdrew from Cheraw in the direction of Goldsboro, and at Averysboro the enemy came up with Hardee, and by the overpowering weight of numbers forced the Confederates from their position. The density of the pine forest was such, that after a few fires, the smoke settled among the undergrowth and under the treetops in such quantity that a foe could not be seen even a short distance away. The level condition of the country prevented our artillery from getting in any of its work, and a flank movement by the Federals could be so easily made, unnoticed, that Hardee was forced to retire in the direction of Smithfield and to an elevation.
General Johnston having learned that the enemy was marching in the direction of Goldsboro, instead of Raleigh, and that the right wing was a day's advance of the left, ordered a concentration of his troops near the little hamlet of Bentonville, situated near the junction of the roads, one leading to Raleigh and the other to Goldsboro, and there fall upon the one wing of the army and defeat it before the other came up. This was not so difficult in contemplation as in the performance, under the present condition of the troops and the topography of the country. General Johnston was misled by the maps at hand, finding afterwards that the Federal General, Howard, was much nearer Bentonville than was General Hardee. But General Hampton put [523] General Butler's Division of Cavalry in front of this whole force, behind some hastily constructed breastworks, and was to keep Slocum at bay until the troops had all gotten in position.
General Hardee began moving early on the morning of the eighth, and on reaching Bentonville we now, for the first time, came up with all the other troops of the army. Hoke's Division lead off to take position and stood on both sides of a dull road leading through the thickets. Batteries were placed on his right. Next to the artillery was posted the Army of Tennessee, its right thrown forward. Before Hardee could get in position the enemy attacked with the utmost vigor, so much so that General Bragg, who was commanding in person at this point, asked for reinforcements. General Hardee, moving by at this juncture, ordered McLaws' Old-Division to the aid of Hoke. But the almost impenetrable thicket prevented hasty movement, and the smoke in front, overhead and the rear, with bullets passing over the heads of Hoke's men, made it impossible for these unacquainted with the disposition of the troops to know whether it was friend or foe in our front. The troops became greatly entangled and some of the officers demoralized. Some troops on our right, by mistaking the head of direction, began to face one way, while Kershaw's Brigade was facing another. But after much maneuvering, McLaw's got the troops disentangled and moved upon the line, and after several rounds at close range, the enemy retreated. Hardee was then ordered to charge with his wing of the army, composed of troops under Stuart and a division under Taliaferro, while Bragg was to follow by brigades from right to left. The firing was now confusing, our troops advancing in different direction, and the sound of our guns and cannon echoing and reverberating through the dense forest, made it appear as if we were surrounded by a simultaneous fire. But finding our way the best we could by the whizzing of the bullets, we rushed up to the enemy's first line of entrenchments, which they had abandoned without an effort, and took position behind the second line of works. After firing a round or two, the Confederates raised the old Rebel yell and went for their second line with a rush. Here General Hardee led his men in person, charging at their head on horseback. The troops carried everything before them; [524] the enemy in double columns and favorably entrenched, was glad to take cover in the thicket in the rear. On the extreme left our troops were less successful, being held in check by strong breastworks and a dense thicket between the enemy and the troops of General Bragg. After sweeping the enemy from the field, General Hardee found it necessary to halt and reform his line and during this interval the enemy made an unsuccessful assault upon the troops of General Stuart. After nightfall and after all the killed and wounded had been removed from the field, General Johnston moved the troops back to the line occupied in the morning and threw up fortifications. Here we remained until the 21st; McLaws was detached and placed on the left of Hoke; the cavalry deployed as skirmishers to our left. There was a considerable gap between our extreme left and the main body of cavalry, and this break the writer commanded with a heavy Hue of skirmishers. Late in the day the enemy made a spirited attack upon us, so much so that General McLaws sent two companies of boys, formerly of Fizer's Brigade of Georgia Militia. The boys were all between sixteen and eighteen, and a finer body of young men I never saw. He also sent a regiment of North Carolina Militia, consisting of old men from fifty to sixty, and as these old men were coming up on line the enemy were giving us a rattling fire from their sharpshooters. The old men could not be induced to come up, however. The Colonel, a Venerable old gray-beard, riding a white horse, as soon as the bullets began to pelt the pines in his front, leaped from his horse and took refuge behind a large tree. I went to him and tried every inducement to get him to move up his men on a line with us, but all he would do was to grasp me by the hand and try to jerk me down beside him. "Lie down, young man," said he, "or by God you'll be shot to pieces. Lie down!" The old militiaman I saw was too old for war, and was "not built that way." But when I returned to the skirmish line, on which were my own brigade skirmishers, reinforced by the two boy companies, the young men were fighting with a glee and abandon I never saw equalled. I am sorry to record that several of these promising young men, who had left their homes so far behind, were killed and many wounded.
This ended the battle of Bentonville, and we might say the war. The sun of the Confederacy, notwithstanding the hopes of our Generals, the [525] determination of the troops, and the prayers of the people, was fast sinking in the west. The glorious rising on the plains of Manassas had gone down among the pine barriers of North Carolina. The last stroke had been given, and destiny seemed to be against us. For hundreds of miles had the defeated troops of Hood marched barefooted and footsore to the relief of their comrades of the East, and had now gained a shallow victory. They had crossed three States to mingle their blood with those of their friends who had fought with dogged resistence every step that Sherman had made. But their spirits were not broken. They were still ready to try conclusions with the enemy whenever our leaders gave the signal for battle. The South could not be conquered by defeat—to conquer it, it must be crashed. The tattered battle flags waved as triumphantly over the heads of the shattered ranks of the battle-scared veterans here in the pine barriers as it ever did on the banks of the Rapidan.
It is sad to chronicle that on this last day, in a battle of the cavalry, in which the infantry had to take a part, the gallant son of the brave General Hardee fell at the head of his column as the Eighth Texas Cavalry was making a desperate charge.
In the battle of Bentonville the Confederates had fourteen thousand infantry and cavalry. The cavalry being mostly on the flanks, and General Wheeler on the north side of Mill Creek, could not participate in the battle in consequence of the swollen stream. The Federal Army had thirty-five thousand engaged on the 19th and seventy thousand in line on the 20th. The loss on the Confederate side was one hundred and eighty killed, one thousand two hundred and twenty wounded, and five hundred and fifteen missing. The enemy's losses in killed and wounded far exceeded the Confederates, besides the Confederates captured nine hundred prisoners.
On the night of the 21st the army began its retreat, crossing Mill Creek on the morning of the 22nd, just in time to see the enemy approach the bridge as our last troops had crossed.
On the 23rd General Sherman marched his army to Goldsboro, there uniting with General Schofield. It was the intention of General Lee that as soon as General Sherman had approached near enough, to abandon the trenches at Petersburg, and, with the combined armies, turn and fall upon his front, flank, and rear.