Major-General Sherman appreciated at Home—A Conflagration—A New
and Bolder Campaign—An amusing Letter from a Rebel—General
Sherman begins his March—Perils and Progress—Branchville and
Columbia—Charleston.
WITH the advent of the New Year, the friends of General Sherman in his
native State inaugurated a movement to secure a fitting testimonial of
their appreciation of his brilliant achievements. A public meeting was
called at Columbus, Ohio, at which Governor Brough presided, and made
the subjoined remarks: “General Sherman has been identified with our
army from the commencement of the contest. Able and discreet—daring,
yet prudent—ever active and energetic—he has led his forces with
almost universal success. He has been in earnest from the beginning; and
if his life is spared, will so continue to the end. Sharing the
privations and dangers of his army, and, ever consulting and promoting
the comfort and safety of his men, he has acquired their unlimited
respect and confidence. His State should hold him in honor, and the
nation owes him a debt of gratitude.
“While Ohio should not boast, she should not allow her modesty to make
her entirely oblivious to the merits and greatness of her sons. While
other States are providing solid testimonials for men who have perilled
their lives and fortunes, and distinguished themselves in the cause of
the country, we should not hesitate in similar acts of appreciation and
gratitude toward one of our own citizens who has stood in the foremost
rank in all this contest. On the contrary, we should come to it in the
spirit of zeal and enthusiasm. This movement has been inaugurated by the
people of the city where General Sherman was born—its originators are
gentlemen of high character and integrity—and our people should
cordially meet it with the determination that it shall be promptly and
fully successful, and the testimonial be at once worthy of all the
State, and its noble, patriotic, and distinguished citizen.”
Lieutenant-General Grant sent the following expressive note to the
committee having the tribute of grateful affection in charge:
“DEAR SIRS: I have just this moment received your printed letter
in relation to your proposed movement in acknowledgment of one
of Ohio’s greatest sons. I wrote only yesterday to my father,
who resides in Covington, Ky., on the same subject, and asked
him to inaugurate a subscription to present Mrs. Sherman with a
house in the city of Cincinnati. General Sherman is eminently
entitled to this mark of consideration, and I directed my father
to head the subscription with five hundred dollars for me, and
half that amount from General Ingalls, chief quartermaster of
this army, who is equally alive with myself to the eminent
services of General Sherman.
“Whatever direction this enterprise in favor of General Sherman
may take, you may set me down for the amount named. I cannot say
a word too highly in praise of General Sherman’s services from
the beginning of the rebellion to the present day, and will
therefore abstain from flattery of him. Suffice it to say, the
world’s history gives no record of his superiors, and but few
equals.
“I am truly glad for the movement you have set on foot, and of
the opportunity of adding my mite in testimony of so good and
great a man. Yours truly,
“U. S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General.”
How noble and beautiful such evidence of true greatness, the master
minds of the war-field delighting to honor each other! A frightful
conflagration in Savannah was among the painful incidents of these
winter months, crowded so full of stirring events. The unresting brain
and form of General Sherman had scarcely completed the new order of
things in Savannah, before a still grander campaign in some of its
aspects, one more perilous and decisive in its results on the rebellion,
was planned, and his glad host waiting his word of command to march.
Sherman’s rule of military action is, not to rest while possible motion
promises substantial results. Looking away from Savannah toward South
Carolina, and beyond to Richmond, his masterly genius formed
deliberately the plan of advance, which was kept in his own breast. He
threatened several points at once, so that the enemy could not tell
whether he would strike first with an avalanche of living men,
Branchville, Augusta, Columbia, or Charleston. The “dazzling rapidity”
of his movements always completely paralyzed the foe. To concentrate
after he was fairly in motion, and his immediate object discerned, in
time to successfully stop him, was next to impossible. We have had no
military leader in this intelligent and irresistible celerity of
movement that approaches him. The Secretary of War announced in the
following message to Mr. Lincoln, the fact, that the laurelled chieftain
was again in the war-path over a hostile country, with continuous swamps
and morasses at the very entrance into its perils:
“FORTRESS MONROE, TUESDAY, _January 17_—10 P. M.
“_To the President_:
“General Sherman renewed the movement of his forces from
Savannah, last week. The Fifteenth and Seventeenth Corps went in
transports to Beaufort on Saturday, the 14th. The Seventeenth
Corps, under Major-General Blair, crossed Port Royal Ferry, and,
with a portion of General Foster’s command, moved on Pocotaligo.
General Howard, commanding that wing of the army, reported on
Sunday, 15th, that the enemy abandoned his strong works in our
front during Saturday night. General Blair’s corps now occupies
a strong position across the railroad, covering all approaches
eastward to Pocotaligo. All the sick of General Sherman’s army
are in good hospitals at Beaufort and Hilton Head, where the
genial climate affords advantages for recovery superior to any
other place. The peace and order prevailing at Savannah since
its occupation by General Sherman, could not be surpassed. Few
male inhabitants are to be seen on the streets.
“EDWIN M. STANTON.”
Refer to a large map, and you will perceive at a glance the field of
operations before General Sherman. About half way from Savannah to
Charleston, is Pocotaligo, on the direct railroad—an important place,
which was the object of an expedition soon after Beaufort came into our
hands. Its capture secured General Sherman’s flank from attack in his
progress toward Branchville, a great railway centre, in importance
resembling Atlanta. His advance lay as it did when he approached
Savannah, between two rivers, whose borders were guarded with swamps.
Having carried Pocotaligo Bridge, on the 13th of January, whose strong
garrison had always successfully repulsed us hitherto, the onward march
from Beaufort commenced. General Hatch’s division was already occupying
a “position not far from the bridge, with their guns turned on the
railroad. The Seventeenth Corps crossed Port Royal Ferry on a pontoon
bridge laid by the Engineer Corps, and marched swiftly, but cautiously,
to the railroad. The enemy’s pickets were soon aroused, and attempted
some skirmishing, but were pushed off without trouble. On the 15th, with
the Seventeenth Corps on the left, and Hatch’s troops on the right,
after slight resistance, the railroad was gained, a little south of the
bridge. Our skirmishers dashed lightly ahead, encountered the enemy’s,
who were supported with light artillery, swept them off, gained the
bridge, and a brigade of the Seventeenth charged and carried it,
together with the earthworks at the further end. Several heavy guns,
which the enemy had spiked, fell into our hands; one of the earthworks
carrying seven, and the other five. The great bridge, with the
trestle-work in the swamp on either side, is fully a mile in length. The
enemy, finding he must give up the work he had so long defended, tried
to burn it. But our men were too quick for him and saved it. Our loss
was only about fifty killed and wounded. Lieutenant Chandler, of General
Blair’s staff, was killed while leading a gallant and victorious charge.
“The enemy’s force consisted of General McLaws’s detachment of Hardee’s
forces; and were pushed out of Pocotaligo, the Seventeenth Corps
occupying the railroad from the Coosawatchie to the Salkehatchie. So
soon as this lodgment was effected, Sherman sent the First and Third
divisions of Geary’s Twentieth Corps, of Slocum’s column, across the
Savannah, so as to hold the railroad continuously from Savannah to the
lines of the Seventeenth Corps. On the 16th, also, the Fifteenth Corps
embarked at Thunderbolt for Beaufort.”
On the legions swept toward Branchville, more than half way to Columbia,
the capital of South Carolina, and northwest of Charleston. The
threatening front of our army against Charleston at the same moment,
kept occupied and apart Generals Beauregard and Hardee. General
Kilpatrick hung like a thunder-cloud around Augusta, keeping General D.
H. Hill with his troops there, while General Howard’s right wing reached
and cut the railroad below Branchville; General Blair’s Seventeenth
Corps crossed the Salkehatchie, wading waist deep through the current,
defeating the enemy in the very water, and seizing River’s Bridge; and
General Slocum had gone above Branchville, cutting the railroad there.
This was during the first week in February. Sunday night, the 11th, the
enemy finding Branchville hopelessly encircled, cutting the paths of
communication, fled from the town, and the next day our victorious
troops, with flying banners, entered it.
Over streams, into which they plunged with a shout; through morasses,
building corduroy roads in swamps, destroying railroads for nearly a
hundred miles of a single line, the brave boys had got within reach of
the “tempting prize,” as the Columbia _Guardian_ called it, now seventy
miles distant, and a hundred and forty-three from Augusta, Georgia.
That paper began to use quite different speech from that addressed a few
weeks before to the “gentle warrior.” He thus discoursed to the people:
“South Carolinians are not to be intimidated by the fulminations of a
brutal foe, and we are mistaken if South Carolinians have forgotten how
to treat the insolence of the hireling.” The same paper said that
Columbia would not even be approached, because Sherman was bent on
Charleston. “To believe it is contrary to common sense, contrary to a
knowledge of Sherman’s character and confessed determination, and
contrary to all military strategy. Possibly a _raid_ may be made here
for the purpose of creating a diversion. It will not find us unprepared.
Long before Columbia falls, we look for a battle and a victory.”
Sherman, however, having left Branchville, was marching over the fine,
high, fertile region northward, where supplies were abundant, and the
country roads excellent. Already he was aiming at Kingsville, where he
would, if successful in his object, at one fell swoop destroy the
Columbia and Charleston Railroad, and the Wilmington and Manchester
Railroad. “That he will succeed in doing this, we have doubts—very
grave doubts; for we know something of the dangerous operations of an
army in the hands of Beauregard.” In order to dissipate the doubts of
some skeptical as to which side the operations of Beauregard would be
dangerous, the same journal announced with pleasure the arrival of that
chieftain and his staff at Nickerson’s Hotel in Columbia.
General Sherman, in a brief time, cleared away the painful doubts from
the mind of this editor. Taking Kingsville, he commenced a skirmishing
march on Columbia. While the quiet of a pleasant evening was settling
down upon Columbia, a sudden shriek in the air startled the inhabitants.
The signal shells of approach were fired from “Yankee” guns.
The army then under cover of darkness moved up the river, and in the
morning forded the Saluda and Broad Rivers. While the waters were
surging around the cheerful host, the enemy decided that “prudence was
the better part of valor,” and hastened out of the capital. The female
employés of the treasury department were hurried off to Charlotte, a
panic-smitten company of maidens, young and old; lithographic presses
for the currency were left behind; and a large amount of medical stores
was seized by our troops. General Sherman pressed forward toward
Charlotte after Beauregard, who was completely in the fog respecting the
goal of his antagonist—whether it was Charlotte, North Carolina, a
hundred miles from Columbia, or Florence, South Carolina, ninety miles
away, likewise a railroad centre. The map again will shed light on the
field of this great game of war. The only road remaining for escape from
Charleston was the threatened track to Florence. Meanwhile General
Gilmore’s time to move near the doomed city had come.
February 10th, General Schemmelfinnig threw his command of about 3,000
strong across a bridge laid over the creek separating Folly and Cole
Islands from James Island, and fastened with firm foothold upon the
latter, only three miles from Charleston. The Fifty-fourth New York,
acting as skirmishers, encountered the enemy a mile farther, at
Grimball’s, on Stono River, up which the iron-clads _Augusta_ and
_Savannah_, and the mortar schooner _Commodore McDonough_, made their
way to protect our forces on the flank, shelling the rebels. Toward
night General Hartwell advanced with his brigade, the columns double in
front dashing upon the rifle-pits with a shout that assured him of
victory. The bloody struggle was brief. The foe returned to his main
works, leaving less than a hundred of our troops killed and wounded, and
their own, with twenty prisoners, in our hands. This was the first time
these works had been taken by our troops.
General Potter moved toward Bull’s Bay to cut the railroad north of the
city. General Hatch moved across the Ashepoo, toward the South Edisto.
General Hardee, with General Sherman, master of Columbia, shutting him
on that side, had been watching with eagle eye the manœuvres of General
Potter, endangering his last highway from the city, and resolved upon
flight. Friday, February 17th, his preparations for it began. In the
night the garrisons of Sullivan’s Island and Point Pleasant withdrew,
just in time to escape General Potter’s advance on the road by Christ’s
Church. For the movements of Hardee had been discovered by General
Schemmelfinnig’s watchful scouts and signal officers, and he barely
slipped from the grasp of his antagonist. The troops in the city marched
out by the Northeastern Railroad on Saturday. Wrote Mr. O. G. Sawyer
from the gates of the city:
“Shortly after daylight it was discovered that there were no troops in
and about Sumter, or Moultrie, or in the works on James Island.
Lieutenant-Colonel Bennett, of the Twenty-first United States colored
troops, commanding Morris Island, immediately despatched Major Hennessy,
of the Fifty-second Pennsylvania Volunteers, to Fort Sumter, in a small
boat, to ascertain whether the fort was evacuated. Major Hennessy
proceeded to Sumter, and soon waved the old Stars and Stripes over the
battered battlements of the work, from which they had been torn down in
April, 1861. The sight of the old flag on Sumter was an assurance that
the enemy had evacuated all their works, and it was hailed by every
demonstration of joy by all, on ship and on shore. Another boat in
charge of Lieutenant Hackett of the Third Rhode Island artillery, was
immediately sent to Fort Moultrie to take possession of that work, and
raise again the national colors upon its parapet. The navy, anxious to
share in the honors of the day, also launched a boat, and strove to gain
the beach of Sullivan’s Island before the army, and an exciting race
ensued between the boats of the different branches of the service. Each
boat’s crew were urged on to the utmost by their respective commanders,
and every nerve and muscle was strained to pull the boats to their
utmost speed. It was a friendly but earnest trial of endurance and
skill. Every man felt that the credit and honor of the service rested on
himself, and redoubled his exertions to attain success. The race was a
close one, the boats being evenly matched; and when one forged a little
ahead it was recognized by the cheers of its friends, who watched with
intense interest the progress of the contest.
“Finally, after a hard pull and as fast a race as Charleston harbor ever
witnessed, the army boat, under Lieutenant Hackett, reached the shore in
advance. As she touched the officer and crew sprang out on the beach,
through the surf, and rushed for the goal. The parapet was soon gained
and the flag given to the breeze, amid the cheers of the soldiers and
sailors, who had come up a moment or two behind him. The fort was found
completely evacuated, as were all the works on the island. The guns were
all spiked and some of the carriages somewhat damaged. A large quantity
of munitions was found in the magazines, which the enemy had not found
time to destroy.
“When the flag floated over Moultrie, Lieutenant-Colonel Bennett, Major
Hennessy, and Lieutenant Burr, of the Fifty-second Pennsylvania, started
out for the city, leaving orders to have troops follow. They pulled up
the bay, while the rebel iron-clads and vessels were in flames, and the
city itself was burning at various points. Reaching Fort Ripley, or what
is known as the Middle Ground battery, the flag was displayed over the
work, and waved for a few moments. The party then pushed on to Castle
Pinckney, when the same ceremony of taking possession was observed, and
then the boat was pulled cautiously, but directly, toward the city. No
hostile force was observed, but a large number of negroes and some
whites were congregated on the docks, watching the approach of the
‘Yankee boat.’ Colonel Bennett immediately landed, and ‘Old Glory’ was
displayed again in the city of Charleston, amid the cheers and cries of
joy of the crowd assembled about it. It was a perfect storm of applause,
and outbursts of unfeigned joy and satisfaction. The negroes, with all
their impulsiveness, were equalled by the whites in their exhibition of
satisfaction and pleasure at the great event. They seized the hands of
the officers and men, and wept with excess of exultation and delight.
Such a scene was never dreamed of by the most enthusiastic believer in
the loyalty of a certain portion of the citizens of Charleston. It took
all our men by surprise.
“On landing it was not deemed advisable by Col. Bennett to advance into
the city, as he was informed that a rebel brigade was still at the
depot, taking the cars, and that a force of cavalry was scouring the
city and impressing men into the ranks and driving the negroes before
them. As he had but nine men with him he confined himself merely to
sending to Mayor Macbeth the following peremptory demand for the
surrender of the city:
“‘HEADQUARTERS UNITED STATES FORCES, }
CHARLESTON, S. C. _Feb. 18, 1865_. }
“‘Mayor CHARLES MACBETH, _Charleston_:
“‘MAYOR: In the name of the United States Government, I demand
the surrender of the city of which you are the executive
officer.
“‘Until further orders all citizens will remain within their
houses.
“‘I have the honor to be, Mayor,
“‘Very respectfully, your obed’t serv’t,
“‘A. G. BENNETT,
“‘Lieut.-Col. Commanding U. S. Forces, Charleston.’
“To this demand Colonel Bennett was subsequently handed, by a committee
from the mayor, consisting of Alderman Gilland and Williams, a letter
which he was about to despatch to Morris Island:
“‘_To the General Commanding U. S. Army at Morris Island_:
“‘SIR: The military authorities of the Confederate States have
evacuated this city. I have remained to enforce law and preserve
order until you take such steps as you may think best.
“‘Very respectfully, your obedient servant,
“‘CHARLES MACBETH, Mayor.’
“After a brief interview, in which the aldermen informed Col. Bennett
that the city had been fired by the rebels in various places, and that
the town was threatened by a total destruction, as the firemen were all
secreted, in consequence of the operations of the rebel cavalry, who
were impressing them and driving them from the town whenever found; and
they desired protection from the rebels, in order that the firemen might
perform their duty without fear of being seized. To this application
Colonel Bennett returned to the Mayor the following communication:
“‘HEADQUARTERS U. S. FORCES, CHARLESTON HARBOR, }
NEAR ATLANTIC WHARF, _Feb. 18, 1865_. }
“‘MAYOR CHARLES MACBETH: I have the honor to acknowledge the
receipt of your communication of this date. “‘I have in reply
thereto to state that the troops under my command will render
every possible assistance to your well-disposed citizens in
extinguishing the fires now burning. I have the honor to be,
Mayor, very respect fully, &c.
“‘A. G. BENNETT,
“‘Lieut.-Col. commanding U. S. Forces, Charleston.’
“Alderman Williams, who happened to be mounted on a fine horse, rode
back to the Mayor to deliver the communication. He had not proceeded
more than a block or two when he came upon fifty rebel cavalry, who were
watching affairs. They instantly halted the peace commissioner, and
blandly observed that they thought they should be compelled to dismount
him, as they were under the impression that they would take the horse in
the country. He reflected an instant, and then observed, in a careless
way, that perhaps the Yankees, who had just landed five hundred strong,
might object, and he would think of the matter. The announcement of the
arrival of five hundred Yankees was quite enough for the bold troopers.
Without taking his horse or further palaver, they wheeled, and rode
wildly up Meeting Street, announcing the approach of the Yankees to all
stragglers, and there was instantly a great commotion and a hurrying off
trains. Meanwhile the fires were spreading with great rapidity, and
threatened to sweep over the city, until fifty men from Morris Island
reënforced Colonel Bennett’s little handful of men, when he instantly
moved up into town with twenty-five men, sending small detachments to
take charge of the public buildings and depots. His march up Meeting
Street was one continued ovation. Crowds thronged the streets and
cheered, hurrahed, waved handkerchiefs, and in other ways manifested
their delight at the arrival of our troops, and at the sight of the old
flag, borne ahead of the little company of colored troops. The officers
were mounted on horses, borrowed for the occasion, and could hardly keep
their saddles, so many enthusiastic individuals, of both sexes, were at
the same time shaking them by the hand, catching hold of their garments,
hugging their horses, and welcoming them in other violent styles.
Charleston never witnessed such a scene before, or echoed so loudly to
the cheers for ‘President Lincoln,’ the ‘Stars and Stripes,’ the ‘Yankee
army,’ and other patriotic subjects, as it did on that memorable day.
One would suppose that the people had gone mad with joy. It was a
universal outburst of joy, and the little band of Yankees moved on with
all the _éclat_ of most honored friends, instead of successful enemies
and conquerors. Was this, indeed, the hotbed of treason; the very home
of disloyalty and rebellion? None would have dreamed of it had they
witnessed the reception of our flag and troops that day. It was the most
wonderful display of loyalty and patriotism.”
And thus, after all the terrific cannonading of four years, with the
sufferings and death of the long siege, the “accursed city” fell without
a battle for its possession. When the Confederate and Palmetto flags
were raised on the walls of Fort Sumter in place of the dishonored
banner of freedom, in the spring of 1861, the boastful Mayor of
Charleston made a flaming speech, declaring that they should wave there
forever!—that Southern independence was secure, and her career of glory
begun. He assured the enthusiastic people, that if their ensigns were
struck down they would be trailed in “a sea of blood!” We may leave him
to his meditations while we join in the shouts of victory.
Standing on the walls of Sumter, look away in the direction of General
Sherman’s march. From Atlanta to the shattered fortress, in this
campaign “our great victories were almost bloodless, and therefore the
more joyous and the more memorable. Branchville fell by manœuvre, not by
the costly price of heroic troops. The turning of Branchville was the
signal for the evacuation of Charleston, and its capture was the capture
of Charleston. It was as if Sherman, sixty two miles distant from
Hardee, had sent him a telegraphic message to vacate the premises, and
the notice was obeyed without question.
“Ordinarily, one would have supposed that the streams which crossed
Sherman’s path at every step would have been successfully contested. But
he appears to have passed them without a day’s delay at any one. Of such
vital importance was time to both parties—to the one, that he might
make his combinations and concentrations; to the other, that he might
break them—that no sacrifice would have seemed too great on the enemy’s
part to ensure delay. But, at the very first show of resistance at a
river crossing, our advance, not waiting for support, would dash into
it, waist deep, with loud cheers, while the rest of the column hurried
to flank the position above and below, and invariably in a few hours the
enemy was in hot retreat.
“Indeed, the enthusiasm of our troops, with Sherman as a leader, has
known no bounds. They felt themselves invincible, and have laughed at
obstacles. Sixty or seventy thousand troops is a large force for such
operations, but larger ones have miserably failed. It is large enough,
however, when directed by genius and inspired by enthusiasm. On the
other hand, the enemy has fled from Sherman’s path as from that of a
pestilence. His troops feel that there is little use in opposing our
columns, and go as quickly as possible to the rear. The unprejudiced
topographer, speculating upon the probable location of that mysterious
region, ‘the last ditch,’ would hitherto have assigned it to South
Carolina. But the ‘great flanker’ has, in fact, flanked that famous
ditch, and it has been evacuated through fear of enfilading. Day after
day, the theatrical bills of the Confederacy announce ‘one more and
positively the very last ditch;’ and still the comedy is played.
Branchville, Columbia, and Charleston fell, but we see no Derry, no
Saragossa, no Puebla, in their defence. Lame and impotent conclusion
indeed from such bravado of prologue! The chance of becoming the
sepulchre of the Confederacy will be taken from South Carolina.”
But let us walk over Charleston after its occupation by our troops. The
flames shoot up on every hand, and the firemen rush to the centres of
conflagration. Thousands of bales of cotton and many buildings are
consumed, amid the frantic distress of the people, who are principally
the poorer classes, left in the wake of retreat. The depot of the
Northeastern Railroad became the arena of new horrors.
“In this building a quantity of cartridges and kegs of powder had been
stored by the rebels, and as they had not time to remove it they left it
unprotected. A number of men, women, and children had collected to watch
the burning of a quantity of cotton in the railroad yard, which the
rebels had fired, and during the conflagration a number of boys, while
running about the depot, had discovered the powder. For the fun of the
thing, and without realizing the danger they incurred, they began to
take up handfuls of loose powder and cartridges and bear them from the
depot to the mass of burning cotton on which they flung them, and
enjoyed a deal of amusement in watching the flashes of the powder and
the strange effects on the cotton as it was blown hither and thither by
the explosion of the cartridges. Quite a number of boys soon became
engaged in this dangerous pastime, and speedily the powder running from
their hands formed a train upon the ground leading from the fire to the
main supplies of powder in the depot. The result is easily conjectured.
A spark ignited the powder in the train, there was a leaping, running
line of fire along the ground, and then an explosion that shook the city
to its very foundations from one end to the other. The building was in a
second a whirling mass of ruins, in a tremendous volume of flame and
smoke. A report rivalling Heaven’s artillery followed, and then a
silence ensued that, made every one tremble and hold his breath. The
cause of the tremendous explosion soon became known, and a rush was made
for the scene of the catastrophe. Such a sight is rarely witnessed. The
building was in ruins, and from the burning mass arose the agonizing
cries of the wounded, to whom little or no assistance could be rendered
by the paralyzed spectators. Many, wounded by the flying fragments of
the building were removed from the additional danger of the fire, but
those in the depot or immediately about it were irretrievably lost. One
by one was reached by the furious flames, the supplicating voices and
the fearful, agonizing groans, that appalled the stoutest heart, died
away and ceased, and charred remains only were left by the devouring
element as it moved on to new victims, who soon passed amid that horrid
scene from life to death. Language cannot adequately describe the
terrible nature of the scene. The cries for aid and rescue from the
wounded within fell upon willing ears, but nothing could be done to
assist them or even to alleviate the final pangs. The flames, like a
fabled monster, strode on, licking up every thing inflammable, and
enveloping its victims in its fiery and deadly embrace. Fortunately the
sufferings of the unfortunate creatures were not prolonged. The work was
done quickly, and soon every voice was silenced, every moan hushed, and
every spirit gathered to its Maker. The horrors of the scene will never
fade from the minds of those who were so unfortunate as to witness it.
Over one hundred and fifty are said to have been charred in that fiery
furnace, and a hundred men were wounded more or less seriously by the
explosion or were burned by the fire.”
Then came the destruction of the rebel fleet. Very fittingly the
_Palmetto State_ first flew into fragments with a loud report, which
signalled well the fate of the home of secession, and over it soon swept
the free waves. The _Chicora_ and _Charleston_ followed in the work of
ruin. Cotton, rice, tobacco, locomotives, etc., fell into our hands.
“The reports of the Charleston editors that the city experienced but
little damage from our shells, like nearly all others emanating from the
same source, were essentially false. It requires no very extended
examination in the lower streets of the city—those near the bay—to
satisfy the most sceptical of the fact that our shells were working most
serious injury to the town, and that the continuance of the bombardment
would make it a mass of ruins, as it had already rendered it untenable
to the most courageous resident. But two persons resided in
‘Shell-town,’ as some wag named that portion of the city east of the
two-mile post, visited by our shells, and they clung to their firesides
with a tenacity of purpose that the most demonstrative and aggressive
Parrott shell failed to relax. Though their beds were torn to pieces
while they were engaged in their domestic affairs—both being
females—by impertinent shells, and their culinary affairs seriously
damaged by projectiles, their roofs perforated, and ventilators put in
front of their dwellings, they would not move, but endured the
bombardment with a coolness and equanimity rarely found. Even the rebel
officers, who ordered them away from the dangerous ground, failed to
call a third time to ascertain whether or not the order had been obeyed.
They lived through the entire bombardment, became accustomed to the howl
of the rushing shell and its sharp explosion, and paid no rent, although
the buildings they occupied suggested heavy rents. Now that quiet and
safety are insured they propose to repair and live comfortably once
more.
“On landing you observe that the wharves are in a very dilapidated
condition, that tell very plainly that they have not been much in use
the past four years. The palmetto logs that form the cribs are covered
with grass, and the planking is much decayed, full of man-traps, and
about worthless so far as cartage is concerned. Advancing up the rickety
docks, you come to a parapet of sand, over which peer the muzzles of
heavy guns, bearing down the channel, for home defence; then around or
over the batteries into the silent streets, covered with the _débris_
from shattered stores and dwellings, and bearing at points a tolerably
good crop of grass—the same kind of grass that was to have sprung up in
the streets of New York when King Cotton exercised his potent sway. Not
a building for blocks here that is exempt from the marks of shot and
shell. All have suffered more or less. Here is a fine brown-stone bank
building, vacant and deserted, with great gaping holes in the sides and
roof, through which the sun shines and the rain pours, windows and
sashes blown out by exploding shell within, plastering knocked down;
counters torn up, floors crushed in, and fragments of mosaic pavement,
broken and crushed, lying around on the floor, mingled with bits of
statuary, stained glass and broken parts of chandeliers. Ruin within and
without, and its neighbor in no better plight. Here a great shell has
struck the chimney and crushed a large portion of the roof in; then
exploding, distributed its fragments through the ceilings, and burst out
great patches of brick and mortar, which now lie on the pavement below,
untouched since they fell. Every imaginable portion of buildings have
been damaged by our fire, and not a single house in this portion of the
town has escaped. Not a building is occupied, save by the brave women to
whom I have already referred, and the front doors or windows gape open,
through which you may gaze upon battered offices, demolished stores and
counting-rooms in ruin, where commerce once dwelt and active business
men pursued their respective vocations unmolested and undisturbed. The
churches, St. Michael’s and St. Philip’s, have not escaped the storm of
our projectiles. Their roofs are perforated, their walls scarred, their
pillars demolished, and within, the pews filled with plastering or
fragments of mural tablets, which were to perpetuate the memory of some
good man long asleep in the grave-yard near by. You may count up a round
number of shell-holes in their steeples, and many upturned monuments in
their grave-yards. War is cruel, and the howling projectile that takes
its start four miles and a half away is indifferent whether it ploughs
up the marble that affection has placed over the remains of long buried
worth, or crashes into the political halls where treason is plotted or
crime against humanity is conceived. The cold iron has been no respecter
of property in Charleston. The good and bad, rich and poor, criminal and
saint—if there be any of the latter here—have received visits from the
Parrott projectiles, and keenly felt the justice of the visitation.”
February 19th, Charleston was placed under martial law. Some of the
regulations had a peculiar interest in the reference made to _colored_
officers; a condition of things in that most _southern_ of the cities of
the South, in its love of the “peculiar institution,” the wildest
reformer did not dream of four years ago.
General Sherman disdained the display of success on entry into South
Carolina, and remained on the hostile territory surrounded with mystery,
caring only, in his own language, to do “a man’s share” in suppressing
the frightful revolt. On February 19th, he was at Winsboro, thirty miles
north of Columbia, on the railroad leading to Charlotte. The first
telegram from him was dated at Laurel Hill, North Carolina, March 8th,
saying: “We are all well, and have done finely.”
[Illustration: MAP OF CAROLINAS]