And the day like a conqueror bursts on the night."
—Schiller.
Shortly after the Liberty raid, General Davidson, who was given command of the cavalry at Baton Rouge, organized an expedition for the purpose of destroying railroads in the territory northeast of Baton Rouge and extending in a circuit to Pascagoula Bay, Alabama, about fifty miles south-west from Mobile, in aid of Sherman's movement towards Atlanta. The command comprised the Fourth Wisconsin, Twelfth Illinois, Eighteenth New York, "Scott's Nine Hundred," and the Second Illinois Cavalry. Its course lay through a barren, sparsely settled country more or less covered with scrub and pitch-pine and interspersed with swamps. The streams were swollen and almost impassable and the roads were so bad that the expedition was compelled to abandon a number of its wagons which were burned. Forage was scarce and the men were soon reduced to quarter rations. Owing to the fact that about the only food to be found was sweet-potatoes, the expedition came to be known as "Davidson's sweet-potato raid." There were not more than a dozen shots fired upon the whole trip.
Upon our arrival at Pearl River we camped for the night and during that time ten men succeeded in swimming across with ropes with a view of bridging the stream. A few went beyond to stand guard while pontoons were laid and in an hour the cavalry was crossing. This was followed by the artillery, consisting of Nimm's Massachusetts Battery and a small train. The pontoon bridge was soon removed when our march was resumed towards Pascagoula Bay, where we arrived hungry and worn, with scarcely any food for ourselves or horses. A double-handful of corn was all that could be spared for each horse during twenty-four hours. There was no grazing and no fodder—nothing but water, sand and pine-needles. In this condition we waited for five days until a consignment of grain and rations was received by boat from Lake Port Louisiana.
In the meantime, some oyster-boats and tongs were discovered in a small bayou near the bay, which indicated the presence of oyster-beds. We improved the opportunity. There was always a rush in the early morning for an outfit. The lucky ones were soon able, however, to fill a few gunny-sacks and then give the others a chance. Those who came late would stick poles in the mud at low tide in about seven or eight feet of water and then, holding onto the poles, would go to the bottom and grope around until they found a cluster of shells which would be brought to the surface and handed to another to take to shore. Bunches were sometimes found as large as a bushel-basket. To hungry men, oysters without sauce was a most delightful substitute for nothing; but we longed for the trimmings, especially pepper. A raid upon the country soon furnished us with many strings of home-grown red-peppers. They were hot, but they served the purpose, and after three weeks of short rations we welcomed the combination; but no stretch of a Northern man's imagination was capable of bringing it up to the standard of a Northern Christmas or New Year's dinner—for both of which it had to serve.
About the last of January we embarked for Lake Port Louisiana, from whence we returned to Baton Rouge, where we remained until March, 1865. We then took boat for New Orleans and camped in Carlton until the latter part of March. From New Orleans we went upon the Mobile Expedition by way of Barancas, Florida. I did not go directly with the regiment, having been detailed to the Quartermaster's Department which went upon a later boat. When I arrived at Barancas I found that my company had gone to Fort Blakely. It was considered unsafe for us to follow without an escort, and we were ordered to remain at the former place. While there, we received the news of Lee's surrender. Everybody was elated and appeared to be walking upon air. The guns at the navy-yard belched forth national salutes and these in turn were answered by the battle-ships. All were drunk with joy. About ten o'clock the next day, in the midst of our rejoicing, an officer rode into camp and stopped to speak to the men. A large and joyous group at once gathered to hear more of the good news. The officer spoke in a low tone. The men looked eager but there were no cheers. A hush fell over the crowd. Then words—almost whispered—passed from man to man: "Lincoln has been assassinated!" It was a staggering, benumbing, crushing blow. The men were dazed; they could not talk. Tears were everywhere—tears and silence. The grief of the men was indescribable. But the silence was of short duration. A fool in Company B, apparently in a spirit of bravado, said that he was "glad of it." Instantly the pent up wrath of the men burst out. There was a rush to quarters for arms. An officer, seeing the situation, placed an armed guard around the man. The guard was soon doubled and the offender rushed to a boat at the water front followed by about fifty men with drawn revolvers. The man was taken to Fort McCrea for safety, where he was court-martialed and sent to the Dry Tortugas to be discharged in disgrace. This was only one of numberless instances of a similar nature which occurred at the time.
In a short time we marched across the country to Fort Blakely, from whence we were transported by boat to Mobile and went into camp near the Mobile and Ohio Railroad about four miles east of the town, where we remained for some days. Our regiment was at Columbus, Mississippi. Orders had been sent from there to Colonel Bush to forward the regimental mail and two hundred outfits of clothing. I was acting as clerk to the Regimental Quartermaster and was detailed by the Colonel to take the mail and stores to the regiment. My orders were to report to the Quartermaster in Mobile at three o'clock p.m., for a pass and instructions. In order to provide for the care of my horse, I left camp about ten o'clock and was in the eastern part of the city. My attention was attracted for a moment to an officer who was making his rounds and was being saluted by a guard near by, when a blinding flash occurred which caused my horse to rear so that I stood upon my toes in the stirrups. For an instant my strength seemed to leave me and I almost fell from the horse as he came down. Looking up, I saw an immense blaze which seemed to be a mile high, followed by great rolling cotton-like masses of clouds which flaked off into sheets. Debris of all descriptions, mingled with some human bodies, soon began to drop back to the earth. The Confederate magazine with five hundred tons of ammunition had exploded. It was a wonderful and appalling sight. The depot was blown to pieces, cotton sheds were destroyed and all of the glass in the city was broken. The Battle House, the largest hotel in the city, was wrecked and every dish in it broken. Great fissures and rents were everywhere seen in the streets and walls.
The stores, which I was to have taken away that evening, had been loaded and stood upon the street, but the wagon was overturned and all of the cases crushed.
As I rode along the street I met Captain Fred Pike of the Forty-Sixth Illinois. One of his legs had been cut by falling slate from a roof and he was hopping along by the side of a building. I dismounted and gave him my horse to go to camp.
On the following evening I started to Columbus with the supplies. The regiment had broken camp before my arrival and I met the command at Artesia, twelve miles from Columbus, where I delivered the mail but was obliged to go on to Columbus to turn over the supplies. I then returned to Mobile and there embarked for New Orleans where I was temporarily stationed at regimental headquarters at Carlton, a short distance above the city.