The rebel chief improved his opportunity, and suddenly decamped under cover of night, defiling along the causeway while our weary troops were resting on their arms. He had stationed his iron-clads near Hutchinson’s Island, which, with the battalions on its lower end, protected the highway of the flying thousands whose arms reflected the glare of the burning Navy Yard, fired during the evacuation. The thunder of exploding iron-clads, destroyed by the rear-guard, was the last signal of his retreat from the boastful Hardee: “The night was exceedingly propitious for such an operation. It was dark and a heavy wind was blowing from the west, conveying the sound of trampling feet over the pontoons away from our lines. But during some of the lulls that occurred General Geary, commanding the Second division, Twentieth Corps, the extreme left of our lines resting on the Savannah River, heard the movement across the bridge, but could not decide in which direction the troops were passing. He ordered his division to be ready at a moment’s notice to move, and then watched the progress of affairs. At midnight General Geary became convinced in his own mind that the enemy were evacuating the town, and notified the commanding general of this fact. The enemy’s skirmish line continued a fusilade on our pickets, and did not cease until two or three o’clock, when they were drawn in, and not many moments after our picket line was advanced, and meeting no opposition, rushed still further on, crawled through the abatis, floundered through the ditches, and scrambled over the parapets and found the first line deserted. General Geary immediately advanced his division, occupied the line and pushed on toward the city. The second line was found abandoned as well, and General Geary, at the head of a small body of men, hurried on.”
On the following morning, December 21st, the Savannah Republican, which two days before emulated the departed commander in the language of defiance—hurling the anathemas of southern chivalry upon the “Yankees”—came out with an earnest appeal to the citizens, counselling quiet and decorum, and the use of all proper means to secure the “respect of a magnanimous foe.” What a strange revolution in tactics—a marvellous light streamed into the city and the editor’s “sanctum” along the causeway from the wake of the fugitive “Greybacks.” Before General Geary “had entered the city, Mayor Arnold, of the city, with four or five of the commonalty, rode up and surrendered the city to him unconditionally, and expressed a trust in the magnanimity of an honorable foe for the safety of the lives and property of the inhabitants. General Geary accepted the surrender unconditionally, and assured them that their lives and property should be protected. He then entered the city, despatching Captain Veale of his staff, with four hundred men, to take possession of Fort Jackson; and also another member of his staff to General Slocum, to inform him of his occupation of the town. The officer who bore this message had some difficulty in convincing our soldiers that Geary’s division was in town. They said to him, ‘You can’t come that, Johnnie Reb. The game is an old one and will not work.’ Finally he assured them sufficiently to gain a passage, and delivered his despatch to General Slocum, commanding the left wing of the army. At eight o’clock all the enemy’s works were in our possession. Captain Veale, with his party, took possession of Fort Jackson and Fort Barlow, taking about sixty heavy guns in both works and lines connecting with them. The enemy had fired the barracks, but the fire was soon subdued.”
In the haste of his departure Hardee strangely neglected to destroy the ammunition of the forts, and the cotton in the city. Only a portion of the guns left behind were spiked. Munitions of war, more than 30,000 bales of cotton, and railroad rolling stock, fell into our hands.
“General Sherman’s entry into the town was marked by no extraordinary commotion. The city received him quietly and respectfully, though not with open arms.
“The population of Savannah, during the past thirty days, has been immensely increased by emigration from the interior. Thousands of people, including many wealthy families, fled from the country threatened by General Sherman’s march, to find, as they presumed, an undisturbed refuge in the city. The houses overflow with them; numbers dwell in sheds, and live upon the streets. Negroes form a large part of this transient population. Many rebel officers and soldiers are found concealed in houses, and probably considerable valuable property, not yet estimated in the fruits of this almost bloodless siege, will yet be brought to light likewise.
“A number of prisoners, which may be counted in addition to those found in the city, were previously captured during our advance against the enemy’s works. Colonel Clinch, of General Hardee’s staff, with thirty men, was taken on board a transport in the Savannah River a few days before the surrender. A quantity of whiskey was aboard the transport, and when our officers reached it, every man on board, except Colonel Clinch, was found in a state of beastly intoxication. General Harrison, a militia general, and a man of considerable wealth, residing near the city, was also taken prisoner during the siege.”
While the sun of December 21st was moving toward the zenith, General Sherman rode at the head of his enthusiastic columns, with music and banners enlivening the magnificent scene, into the broad, quiet streets of Savannah, followed by his wing-commanders, the gallant Howard and Slocum. Hour after hour the tramp of Union soldiers echoes on the pavements, until at length, in mansions, public buildings, and tents, the exultant host settled down into comparative repose. The next day the wires of the telegraph transmitted to the President this laconic message:
“Savannah, Ga., December 22, 1864.
“His Excellency President Lincoln;
“I beg to present you as a Christmas gift the city of Savannah, with one hundred and fifty heavy guns and plenty of ammunition, and also about twenty-five thousand bales of cotton.