CHAPTER XLI
On the Saltkahatchie. February, 1865.
When we reached our destination on the Saltkahatchie, we were met by our old commander of Virginia and Tennessee, Major General McLaws, from whom we had been separated for more than a year. The soldiers were glad to see him, and met him with a rousing cheer, while the old veteran was equally delighted to see us. It was like the meeting of father and absent children, for General McLaws was kind and indulgent to his men, even if not a very successful General. After being relieved of his command in East Tennessee and succeeded by General Kershaw, he had commanded the post at Augusta, Ga., to which place he returned after the close of hostilities and remained until his death. He was the greater part of the time postmaster of the city of Augusta. [508] There being few occupations that the old West Pointers of the South could fill, they generally accepted any office in the gift of the government that would insure them an honest livelihood.
General McLaws was facing two corps of Sherman's Army at this place with some few veterans, State troops, and reserves. Sherman had been quiet for some time, recruiting his army with negroes from the great plantations along the coast, and resting up his army for his march through the State. Negroes flocked to his army by the thousands, and were formed into regiments and brigades, officered by white men. Even our own Generals and some of our statesmen at this time and before were urging Congress to enlist the negroes, but the majority were opposed to the movement. To show how confident were our leaders even at this late day of the Confederacy, I will quote from Wm. Porcher Miles, then in the Confederate Congress, in reply to General Beauregard urging the enlistment of the slaves. It must be understood that at this time Lee had all he could do to hold his own against Grant, growing weaker and weaker as the days rolled by, while Grant was being reinforced from all over the United States. Lee had the solitary railroad by which to subsist his army. Sherman had laid waste Georgia and was now on the eve of marching; through South Carolina. The Army of the Trans-Mississippi was hopelessly cut off from the rest of the Confederacy. The Mississippi River was impassable, to say nothing of the Federal pickets that lined its banks and the gunboats that patrolled its waters, so much so that one of our Generals is said to have made the report "that if a bird was dressed up in Confederate gray, it could not cross the Mississippi." Hood's Army was a mere skeleton of its former self—his men, some furloughed, others returned to their home without leave, so disheartened were they after the disastrous defeat in Tennessee. Still all these conditions being known and understood by the authorities, they were yet hopeful. Says Mr. Miles in Congress:
"I cannot bring my mind to the conviction that arming our slaves will add to our military strength, while the prospective and inevitable evils resulting from such measures make me shrink back from such a step. This can be when only on the very brink of the brink of the precipice of ruin."
From such language from a Confederate Congressman, dark as the day looked on February 4th, 1865, the date of the letter, the people [509] did not seem to feel that they were on the "brink of the precipice." Continuing, Mr. Miles goes on in a hopeful strain:
"But I do not estimate him [speaking of Grant] as a soldier likely to decide the fate of battle. We have on our rolls this side of the Mississippi four hundred and one thousand men, one hundred and seventy-five thousand effective and present. We can easily keep in the field an effective force of two hundred thousand. These are as many as we can well feed and clothe, and these are sufficient to prevent subjugation or the overrunning of our territory."