Like Grant, Sherman was born in Ohio; the former in a log house at Mt.
Pleasant, 1822, the latter at Lancaster, Feb. 8, 1820.
His ancestor, Edmund Sherman, came from Dedham, England, to
Massachusetts, with his three sons, in 1634. From his son Samuel, who
was one of the original proprietors of Woodbury, Conn., came the noted
general, through a line of ministers and lawyers.
The grandfather, Taylor Sherman, was a judge in Norwalk, Conn., and one
of the commissioners appointed by the State to go to Huron and Erie
Counties, Ohio, to settle some land matters with regard to the Indians.
He received two sections of land for his services.
His wife, Betsey, was a woman, says E. V. Smalley, in the _Century_ for
January, 1884, "of uncommon strength of character, who was always called
on to give advice in times of trouble to her whole circle of relatives
and descendants--a strong-willed, intelligent, managing woman.... To
Grandmother Betsey might be attributed the talent of the later members
of the family."
Her son Charles, admitted to the bar at twenty, married Mary Hoyt, and
soon went to Lancaster, Ohio. He returned in a year, and took his young
wife and baby over six hundred miles on horseback to the new home in
the West, where ten other children were born, the eleven comprising six
boys and five girls.
[Illustration: WILLIAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN.]
The third son, William, was named Tecumseh after the famous Indian
chief, who died at the battle of Tippecanoe. When the child was four
years old, the father was appointed a judge of the supreme court of
Ohio, but died suddenly in Lebanon while on the bench, after he had held
the position for five years.
Mrs. Sherman found her home full of children, with an annual income of
only two hundred and fifty dollars with which to support them. Her
husband had been loved for his genial nature and his generous heart, so
that friends were not wanting to help the young mother bear her burdens.
John, the now well-known senator, was sent to an uncle in Mount Vernon,
another to a friend in Cincinnati, and Tecumseh to the home of the Hon.
Thomas Ewing, a prominent United States Senator from Ohio.
The lad of nine attended the village schools till he was sixteen, when,
through the influence of Mr. Ewing, he entered the Military Academy at
West Point. He had no love for warlike pursuits, but looked forward to
becoming a civil engineer in the far West.
He had all along cared for history, travel, and fiction, but never
especially for battles. He enjoyed out-door sports, and long rambles
with rod and gun. He studied well while at West Point, standing high in
drawing, chemistry, mathematics, and philosophy, reaching the sixth
place in a class of forty-three at his graduation in 1840.
He was never fond of display, and had no relish for the minutiæ of dress
and drill. "Men who have successfully conducted great campaigns, and
fought great battles, have not," says Mr. Smalley, "as a rule, taken
much interest in the polishing of buttons, or the exact alignment of a
company of troops."
Soon after graduating, young Sherman, tall, slender, with auburn hair
and hazel eyes, a second lieutenant in the Third Artillery, was sent to
Florida to keep in check the Seminole Indians. After two winters he was
transferred to Fort Moultrie, near Charleston, South Carolina, as first
lieutenant, where he remained for four years. Here he enjoyed Southern
hospitality, and learned the character of the people and the topography
of the country, both here and in Georgia. More than twenty years later,
this knowledge was invaluable when he fought his battles at Atlanta and
made his immortal March to the Sea.
War with Mexico was threatening; and in 1846 Sherman was sent to New
York, and afterwards to Ohio, as a recruiting officer. When he heard of
the battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma, May 8 and 9, he was
eager to be at the front: recruiting, as he says in his memoirs, while
"his comrades were actually fighting, was intolerable."
He was soon ordered to California, which his company reached, after a
voyage of nearly two hundred days, by way of Cape Horn. At Rio Janeiro,
"the beauty of whose perfect harbor words will not describe," they
remained for a week, and the young Ohio officer enjoyed the delights of
travel. He saw Dom Pedro and his Empress, the daughter of Louis Philippe
of France, the Palace, the Botanic Gardens, the Emperor's coffee
plantation, where the coffee-tree reminded him of "the red haw-tree of
Ohio; and the berries were somewhat like those of the same tree, two
grains of coffee being enclosed in one berry."
At Cape Horn, "an island rounded like an oven, after which it takes its
name (_ornos_, oven)," they were followed by Cape-pigeons and
albatrosses of every color. At Valparaiso they remained ten days, and
enjoyed large strawberries in November. The last of January, 1847, they
entered Monterey Bay, and saw live-oaks and low adobe houses, with
red-tiled roofs, amid dark pine-trees.
The camp was soon established, and some of their six months' provisions
hauled up the hillside in the old Mexican carts with wooden wheels,
"drawn by two or three pairs of oxen yoked by the horns."
They brought a saw-mill and a grist-mill with them to the new country.
Living was cheap, as cattle cost but eight dollars and fifty cents for
the best, or about two cents a pound.
Sherman soon met Colonel Frémont, afterwards a candidate for the
Presidency, General Kearney, and other officers noted in those early
days of California. San Francisco was called Yerba Buena, and Sherman
felt almost insulted when asked if he wished to invest money in land "in
such a horrid place as Yerba Buena."
The best houses were single-story adobes; the population was about four
hundred, mostly Kanakas, natives of the Hawaiian Islands.
Sherman spent much time in hunting deer and bear in the mountains back
of the Carmel Mission, and could often in a single day load a pack-mule
with the geese and ducks which he had shot. These geese would appear in
profusion as soon as the fall rains caused the young oats to come up.
"The seasons in California," he writes, "are well marked. About October
and November the rains begin, and the whole country, plains and
mountains, becomes covered with a bright green grass, with endless
flowers. The intervals between the rains give the finest weather
possible. These rains are less frequent in March, and cease altogether
in April and May, when gradually the grass dies and the whole aspect of
things changes, first to yellow, then to brown, and by midsummer all is
burnt up, and dry as an ash-leaf."
The "gold-fever" broke out in the spring of 1848. Thomas Marshall found
some placer-gold fifteen miles above Mormon Island, in the bed of the
American Fork of the Sacramento River. He had worked for Captain Sutter
in his saw-mills, and seeing this gold in the tailrace of the saw-mill,
tried at first to keep it a secret, after telling Sutter; but others
soon found the yellow metal, and not only California, but the whole
civilized world, was excited over the discovery.
Sutter's saw and grist mills soon went to decay. Men earned fifty, a
hundred, and sometimes thousands of dollars a day, if they found a
"pocket" of gold. Prices became fabulous. Flour and bacon and other
eatables sold for a dollar a pound. A meal usually cost three dollars.
Miners slept at night on the ground. All day they worked in cold water
in the river-beds, their clothes wet; but no complaints were heard.
Soldiers deserted from the coast to join the gold-diggers. At one time
six hundred ships were anchored at San Francisco, and could not get away
for lack of crews. Sherman and his officers were obliged to pay three
hundred dollars a month for a servant, or go without, as their own pay
was but seventy dollars a month. Often they did their own work. Sherman
cooked, and Lieutenant Ord cleaned the dishes, but "was deposed as a
scullion because he would only wipe the tin plates with a tuft of grass,
according to the custom of the country," says Sherman; "whereas, Warner
insisted on having them washed after each meal with hot water. Warner
was, in consequence, promoted to scullion, and Ord become the hostler."
Twice Sherman and some other officers visited the mines, being obliged
to cross the Sacramento River in an Indian dug-out canoe. The unwilling
horses and mules were driven into the water, following the one led by
the man in the canoe. When across, several of the frightened creatures
escaped into the woods, where they were recovered and brought back by
the Indians.
The winter of 1848-49 was a serious one to the thousands of homeless men
and women who had come to seek their fortunes in the mountains. The
president had made the gold-finding the subject of a special message to
Congress, and emigrants were pouring into California by land and by sea.
Of course there was much hardship, much disregard of law, and extremes
of poverty and wealth.
The winter of 1849-50 only deepened the distress. In crossing the plains
and mountains many animals of the emigrants perished, and they
themselves lacked food. One hundred thousand dollars were used to buy
flour, bacon, etc., for these people, and men and mules were sent out by
General Persifer F. Smith to meet and relieve them. In San Francisco,
after the long rains, Sherman says: "I have seen mules stumble in the
streets and drown in the liquid mud. Montgomery Street had been filled
up with brush and clay, and I always dreaded to ride on horseback along
it, because the mud was so deep that a horse's legs would become
entangled in the brushes below, and the rider was likely to be thrown,
and drown in the mud."
A room twenty by sixty feet for a store or gambling-saloon rented for a
thousand dollars a month. Sherman took a share in a store, and thereby
made fifteen hundred dollars, which helped him to live with these
exorbitant prices. Later he made about six thousand dollars in three
lots in Sacramento.
He returned East in January, 1850, on a leave of absence for six months.
His comrades had fought great battles in Mexico, which he had not been
able to share. "I thought it the last and only chance in my day," he
writes, "and that my career as a soldier was at an end."
He visited his mother, then living at Mansfield, Ohio, and on the 1st of
May, 1850, married, after an engagement of some years, Miss Ellen Boyle
Ewing, daughter of the man who had adopted him in his childhood. Mr.
Ewing was then Secretary of the Interior, and, of course, the wedding,
on Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, was a brilliant one. President
Taylor and his cabinet, Daniel Webster, Henry Clay, and other leaders
were present. In the fall of 1851 Sherman was made a captain in the
Commissary Department, and ordered to St. Louis. The following year he
was sent to New Orleans, to which city Mrs. Sherman went with her two
children.
Seeing little prospect of advancement in the army, in 1853 Captain
Sherman resigned his position, and became manager of a bank in San
Francisco, a branch of a house in St. Louis.
On his way to California, when near the Pacific coast, the ship Lewis
struck on a reef, and all came near losing their lives. Sherman, with
his usual mastery over circumstances, sat on the hurricane deck with the
captain, and while others prayed, or called for help, waited calmly,
and was among the last to leave the ship. When all were safely on the
beach, he scrambled up the bluff, and finally saw a schooner loaded with
lumber, on which he asked a passage to the city of San Francisco, that
he might send help to the wrecked.
This schooner capsized, and Sherman found himself in the water, mixed up
with planks and ropes, steadily drifting out to sea. He was finally
picked up by a boat, and as soon as possible he sent two steamers to the
relief of the passengers of the Lewis, which went to pieces the night
after they got off.
In the unsettled state of the country, the bank did not prove a success,
and was closed May 1, 1857. Mrs. Sherman and her three children, Minnie,
Lizzie, and Willie, returned to Lancaster, Ohio.
For a time Sherman became agent in New York for the St. Louis house; but
the latter failing in the financial disturbances of the country, his
business ventures seemed at an end, and Sherman returned to Lancaster,
July 28, 1858.
"I was then perfectly unhampered," he says, "but the serious and greater
question remained, what was I to do to support my family, consisting of
a wife and four children, all accustomed to more than the average
comforts of life?"
Like General Grant, he had resigned from the regular army that he might
earn enough to support his family. Banking had been no more successful
than Grant's leather business.
Two sons of Mr. Ewing had gone to Leavenworth, Kansas, where they had
bought some land, and opened a law office. They offered Sherman a
partnership, as he had read law considerably. He accepted the position,
but soon found that he did not earn money enough, so began to manage a
farm, forty miles west of Leavenworth, for his father-in-law.
This not proving more remunerative than Grant's farming, he offered
himself to the army again in 1859, feeling, that a sure, though small,
amount was better for his family than the uncertainties of business. He
was soon appointed the superintendent of a military college about to be
organized at Alexandria, Louisiana.
This position did not prove an easy one. The building was a large and
handsome one in the midst of four hundred acres of pine-land, but there
was not a table, chair, or black-board ready for beginning. Sherman
immediately engaged some carpenters, and went to work with his usual
energy.
Meantime, the slavery question bade fair to rend the Union asunder.
South Carolina seceded Dec. 20, 1860, and Mississippi soon after. In the
middle of January, 1861, Sherman wrote to the Governor of the State: "If
Louisiana withdraw from the Federal Union, I prefer to maintain my
allegiance to the Constitution as long as a fragment of it survives....
I beg you to take immediate steps to relieve me as superintendent, the
moment the State determines to secede, for on no earthly account will I
do any act or think any thought hostile to, or in defiance of, the old
Government of the United States."
Sherman soon came North and visited his brother, Senator John Sherman.
Both called upon Lincoln, and the President asked the soldier "how the
people of the South were getting along." "They think," was the reply of
Sherman, "they are getting along swimmingly--they are preparing for
war."
"Oh, well!" said Lincoln, "I guess we'll manage to keep house."
April 1, through the influence of friends, Sherman was made President of
the Fifth Street Railroad, in St. Louis, at a salary of twenty-five
hundred dollars a year, and moved his family thither. Five days later,
and six days before the attack on Sumter, April 12, 1861, he was asked
to accept the chief clerkship of the War Department, with the promise
that, when Congress met, he should be made Assistant Secretary of War.
This offer he declined, as he had already moved his family to St. Louis,
and did not feel at liberty to change his position.
He wrote later to Simon Cameron, Secretary of War, that he would not
volunteer for _three months_, "Because," said he, "I cannot throw my
family on the cold charity of the world," but for a _three-years_' call,
good service might be done. He was appointed Colonel of the Thirteenth
Regular Infantry, May 14, 1861, and again his family returned to
Lancaster, Ohio.
The war feeling had been greatly intensified at the North by the death
of Colonel E. Elmer Ellsworth, a young man of twenty-four, who had
organized a body of Zouaves in Chicago, and had escorted President
Lincoln to Washington. On May 24, when the Union forces crossed into
Virginia, Ellsworth's Zouaves occupied Alexandria. A part of the troops
were proceeding towards the centre of the town, when they saw a
secession flag flying from the Marshall House.
Ellsworth ascended to the roof and pulled it down. The hotel keeper,
James T. Jackson, shot him through the heart, and attempted to shoot
Private Francis E. Brownell, who was with Ellsworth. Brownell at once
shot Jackson through the head.
Brownell died at Washington, D.C., March 15, 1894.
The body of Colonel Ellsworth lay in state in the East Room of the White
House for several hours. President Lincoln, and indeed the whole North,
were deeply affected by his death.
Mr. Lincoln soon called for four hundred thousand men and four hundred
million dollars, to carry on the war. Two Confederate armies were
already before Washington; one at Manassas Junction under General
Beauregard, the other at Winchester under General Joseph E. Johnston.
General Irvin S. McDowell, aged forty-three, of the Mexican War
soldiers, had command of the Union forces, and Sherman held a brigade
under him. The battle of Bull Run, or Manassas, was fought Sunday, July
21, with a loss on our side of 2,896, and on the Confederate of 1,982.
Over thirty thousand men were in each army.
General John D. Imboden, in vol. 1 of that most interesting and valuable
series, "Battles and Leaders of the Civil War," edited by Messrs.
Johnson and Buel, tells the following incident of "Stonewall" Jackson in
this battle. He had been wounded in the hand, but paid no attention to
it, binding it up with his handkerchief, saying, "Only a scratch, a mere
scratch," and galloped along his line. Three days later General Imboden
found him at a little farm-house near Centreville. Jackson was bathing
his hand at sunrise, in spring water. It was swollen and very painful.
Mrs. Jackson had already come to him. "General," said Imboden, "how is
it that you can keep so cool, and appear so utterly insensible to
danger, in such a storm of shell and bullets as rained about you when
your hand was hit?" referring to the Bull Run battle.
"Captain," he said, "my religious belief teaches me to feel as safe in
battle as in bed. God has fixed the time for my death. I do not concern
myself about _that_, but to be always ready, no matter when it may
overtake me." After a pause, he said, "Captain, that is the one way all
men should live, and then all would be equally brave."
Imboden apologized for the use of profanity on the battle-field, and
Jackson simply remarked, "Nothing can justify profanity."
The men idolized Jackson, in part because he almost always succeeded.
They trusted him without questioning. "Where are you going?" was once
asked of some of his troops.
"We don't know," was the reply, "but old Jack does."
"It is now generally admitted," says Sherman, "that it [the Battle of
Bull Bun] was one of the best planned battles of the war, but one of the
worst fought.... Nearly all of us for the first time then heard the
sound of cannon and muskets in anger, and saw the bloody scenes common
to all battles, with which we were soon familiar. We had good
organization, good men, but no cohesion, no real discipline, no respect
for authority, no real knowledge of war. Both armies were fairly
defeated, and whichever had stood fast, the other would have run."
Though the Union army retreated in great disorder, and the North was
saddened thereby, Sherman and some others were made brigadier-generals
for their bravery.
President Lincoln and Seward came to the Union camps soon after the
battle. Lincoln said, in his homely fashion, "We heard that you had got
over the big scare, and we thought we would come over and see the
'boys.'"
He stood up in the carriage and made a most feeling address, telling
them how much devolved upon them, and how all looked for brighter days.
When they began to cheer, he said, "Don't cheer, boys. I confess, I
rather like it myself; but Colonel Sherman here says it is not military,
and I guess we had better defer to his opinion."
A little later an officer who had attempted to go to New York without
leave, and whom Sherman had threatened to shoot if he deserted at that
critical time, approached the President, saying that he had a grievance,
and that Colonel Sherman had threatened to shoot him.
With that rare good sense for which Lincoln was famous, and knowing that
his leaders must be supported in authority, he bent over toward the
aggrieved officer, and said in a loud whisper, "Well, if I were you, and
he threatened to shoot, I would not trust him, for I believe he would do
it." Sherman afterwards thanked the President for his confidence.
Soon after this General Sherman was assigned to the department of the
Cumberland, under General Robert Anderson, formerly at Fort Sumter.
Anderson's health failing, Sherman soon took his place. Mr. Cameron,
Secretary of War, having a consultation with Sherman, the latter
complained that he had only eighteen thousand men, whereas two hundred
thousand men were needed to destroy all the opposition in the
Mississippi Valley.
It soon came out in the papers that Sherman was "crazy," as at that time
the North seemed to have no adequate idea of the immensity of the work
in hand. The succeeding years proved that Sherman was right in his
estimate of the power and purpose of the South in its war against the
Union.
Sherman was relieved by General Buell, and the "insane" general was
ordered to take charge of a Camp of Instruction. Hurt by the cruel
charge, he still performed his duties "for a country and government,"
as he said, "worth fighting for, and dying for if need be."
Early in 1862 Grant had won some great victories at Forts Henry and
Donelson, on the Tennessee and Cumberland Rivers. The latter fort, under
General Buckner, surrendered Feb. 16, with sixty-five guns, seventeen
thousand six hundred small arms, and nearly fifteen thousand troops.
Major-General Grant was now commanding the Army of the Tennessee under
Halleck, and Sherman was assigned to a division under Grant. The latter
held about the same "crazy" idea that Sherman held,--that the
Southerners were hard and brave fighters, and would never surrender till
forced to it through exhaustion of men and money.
The next great battle was at Shiloh, or Pittsburg Landing, begun by the
Confederates Sunday, April 6, 1862, and lasting two days. The first day
our men were driven back a mile with heavy loss. General Albert Sidney
Johnston, the commander-in-chief of the Confederates, was struck about
2 P.M. by a minie-ball in the calf of the leg, which penetrated the boot
and severed the main artery. His horse was shot in four places. He would
not leave the field till compelled by loss of blood, and died soon
after.
Dr. D. W. Yandell, who had been with Johnston, left him to establish a
hospital for the wounded, among them many Federals. "These men were our
enemies a moment ago," said Johnston; "they are our prisoners now. Take
care of them." Had Yandell remained with him, his life would probably
have been saved, as the wound would have been attended to.
"During the whole of Sunday," says Grant, "I was continually engaged in
passing from one part of the field to another, giving directions to
division commanders. In thus moving along the line, I never deemed it
important to stay long with Sherman. Although his troops were then under
fire for the first time, their commander, by his constant presence with
them, inspired a confidence in officers and men that enabled them to
render services on that bloody battle-field worthy of the best of
veterans.
"A casualty to Sherman that would have taken him from the field that day
would have been a sad one for the troops engaged at Shiloh. And how near
we came to this! On the 6th, Sherman was shot twice--once in the hand,
once in the shoulder, the ball cutting his coat and making a slight
wound, and a third ball passed through his hat. In addition to this, he
had several horses shot during the day."
Later, Colonel James B. McPherson's horse was shot quite through, just
back of the saddle, but the poor creature carried his rider out of
danger before he dropped dead.
Both armies slept on their arms that night in a pouring rain, and the
next morning, April 7, renewed the fight, with a hard won victory for
the Union forces. So dreadful was the conflict that Grant writes, "I saw
an open field, in our possession on the second day, over which the
Confederates had made repeated charges the day before, so covered with
dead that it would have been possible to walk across the clearing in any
direction, stepping on dead bodies, without a foot touching the
ground.... On one part, which had evidently not been ploughed for
several years, probably because the land was poor, bushes had grown up,
some to the height of eight or ten feet. There was not one of these
left standing unpierced by bullets. The smaller ones were all cut down."
Our loss in killed, wounded, and missing was 13,573; the Confederates
reported their loss as 10,699, but General Grant thinks it was much
greater.
The battle had been bravely and desperately fought on both sides. About
five hundred yards east of Shiloh meeting-house there had been a deadly
combat. Several times cartridges gave out; but Sherman appealed to the
regiments to "stand fast," as their retiring would have a bad effect on
others, and the men heroically kept their posts. Sherman's division lost
over two thousand men.
Grant said, in his official report, "I feel it a duty to a gallant and
able officer, Brigadier-General W. T. Sherman, to make mention that he
was not only with his command during the entire two days of action, but
displayed great judgment and skill in the management of his men."
Halleck said, "Sherman saved the fortunes of the day on the 6th, and
contributed largely to the glorious victory on the 7th."
When on the 8th it was found that the enemy had retreated, "leaving
killed, wounded, and much property by the way," says Sherman, "we all
experienced a feeling of relief. The struggle had been so long, so
desperate and bloody, that the survivors seemed exhausted and nerveless.
We appreciated the value of the victory, but realized also its great
cost of life."
Sherman was promoted to the position of major-general May 1. During June
and July he was "building railroad-trestles and bridges, fighting off
cavalry detachments coming from the South, and waging an everlasting
quarrel with planters about the negroes and fences, they trying, in the
midst of moving armies, to raise a crop of corn."
The desire now was to get complete possession of the Mississippi River.
Admiral Farragut had taken New Orleans, after the dreadful passage of
Forts Jackson and St. Philip. The brave old admiral had said, "If I die
in the attempt, it will only be what every officer has to expect. He who
dies in doing his duty to his country, and at peace with his God, has
played the drama of life to the best advantage."
With his six sloops-of-war, sixteen gunboats, twenty-one schooners, and
five other vessels, forty-eight in all, carrying two hundred guns, all
led by the Hartford, Farragut pushed his way through a sea of fire. Five
fire-rafts--flat boats, filled with dry wood smeared with tar and
turpentine--blazed among his ships, while shot and shell strewed his
decks with the dead; but he cut his way to victory, and won immortal
honor.
Memphis had been captured by our gunboats and rams, under Admiral Davis,
June 6. Of the eight Confederate gunboats in the flotilla, three, the
Lovell, Beauregard, and Thompson, were destroyed by our vessels; four
were captured and repaired for our use; while one, the Van Dorn,
escaped. Five transports and some cotton were taken, and a large ram and
two tugs on the stocks were destroyed.
Sherman was ordered to go to Memphis to take command of the district of
West Tennessee. When he entered the city, the stores, churches, and
schools were closed. He caused these and the places of amusement to be
opened, and put the fugitive slaves to work on the fortifications, and
gave them food and clothing.
The story is told of an Episcopal clergyman who came to Sherman, saying
that he was embarrassed about his prayer for the President.
"Whom do you regard as President?" said Sherman.
"Mr. Davis," was his reply.
"Very well; pray for Jeff Davis if you wish. He needs your prayers
badly. It will take a great deal of praying to save him."
"Then I will not be compelled to pray for Mr. Lincoln?"
"Oh, no. He is a good man, and don't need your prayers. You may pray for
him if you feel like it, but there's no compulsion."
To some of the editors in Memphis, Sherman said, "If I find the press of
Memphis actuated by high principle and a sole devotion to their country,
I will be their best friend; but if I find them personal, abusive,
dealing in innuendoes and hints at a blind venture, and looking to their
own selfish aggrandizement and fame, then they had better look out; for
I regard such persons as greater enemies to their country and to mankind
than the men who, from a mistaken sense of State pride, have taken up
muskets, and fight us about as hard as we care about."
Sherman went to the _Argus_ office one day, and, in his familiar manner,
said to the young editors, as he sat down and rested his feet on the
table: "Boys, I have been ordered to suppress your paper, but I don't
like to do that. I just dropped in to warn you not to be so free with
your pencils. If you don't ease up, you'll get into trouble."
When some complained of the acts of the soldiers, Sherman replied that
he knew of several instances where their conduct had been provoked by
sneering remarks about "Northern barbarians" and "Lincoln's hirelings."
"People who use such language," he said, "must seek redress through some
one else, for I will not tolerate insults to our country or cause."
All sorts of ruses were adopted by the Southern army to obtain things
from Memphis. While General Van Dorn was at Holly Springs, he desired
supplies for his men. Some of our soldiers found, in a farmer's barn, a
large hearse with pall and plumes, which had been used at a big funeral.
It was filled with medicines for Van Dorn's army! "It was a good trick,"
said Sherman, "but diminished our respect for such pageants afterward."
In December there was a concerted movement by Grant and Sherman to
capture Vicksburg. The latter was to move down the river, and with
Admiral Porter's gunboats, "proceed," said Grant, "to the reduction of
that place in such manner as circumstances and your own judgment may
dictate." Sherman was to make the attack by land, in the rear, while
Porter attacked by river front. Three divisions of Sherman's army were
landed in the low, marshy lands, cut by the Chickasaw Bayou and other
creeks, where a slight rise in the Mississippi River would drown them
all. The bluffs of Walnut Hills, on which Vicksburg stands, are two
hundred feet high, and impregnable.
Against these the fearless troops were led Dec. 29, with great
slaughter. De Courcy's brigade of Morgan's division, and Frank Blair's
brigade of Steele's division, with the Fourth Iowa, were under the
hottest fire. De Courcy lost 700, Blair 743, and the Fourth Iowa 111
men; the Confederate loss was only about 187.
Sherman says, "The men of the Sixth Missouri actually scooped out with
their hands caves in the bank, which sheltered them against the fire of
the enemy, who, right over their heads, held their muskets outside the
parapet vertically, and fired down. So critical was the position, that
we could not recall the men till after dark, and then one at a time. Our
loss had been pretty heavy, and we had accomplished nothing."
It was evident that Vicksburg must be taken in some other manner. Grant
decided to cut a canal across the peninsula opposite Vicksburg, that he
might get below the city. All through January and February, Sherman's
men were digging the canal, planned to be sixty feet wide and nine feet
deep, and fighting off the Mississippi, which continued to rise, and
threatened to drown them. When the men were not digging canals, they
were clearing bayous, which were filled with cypress and cottonwood
trees. Sometimes they marched at night through canebrakes, carrying
lighted candles, Sherman walking with them, the water above his hips.
The drummer-boys carried their drums on their heads, and the men slung
their cartridge-boxes around their necks.
Admiral Porter, from his gunboats, used to send Sherman messages,
written on tissue paper, concealed in a piece of tobacco. A negro
carried them through the swamps.
Many weeks were spent on other canals, but all proved useless. Finally
it was decided to move all the troops down the west bank of the river,
cross over below Vicksburg, and attack it on the land side.
A series of battles followed at Port Gibson, Raymond, Jackson, Champion
Hills, and Big Black. Grant had inflicted a loss upon the enemy during a
few days of eight thousand in killed, wounded, and missing; had captured
eighty-eight pieces of their artillery, and driven them into their
defences at Vicksburg. "We must go back to the campaigns of Napoleon,"
says Francis Vinton Greene, lieutenant of engineers, "to find equally
brilliant results accompanied in the same space of time with such small
loss."
In these days of carnage, incidents even amusing happened. While Sherman
and his troops were at Jackson, a fat man came to him and hoped that his
hotel would not be burned, as he was a law-abiding Union man. Sherman
said that this fact was manifest from the sign on his hotel, where the
words "United States" had been faintly painted out and "Confederate
Hotel" painted over it!
On May 22 the last assault was made on Vicksburg; and, though severe and
bloody, it was unsuccessful, on account of the strength of the position,
and the earnest fighting of the garrison.
"I have since seen the position at Sevastopol," writes Sherman, "and
without hesitation I declare that at Vicksburg to have been the more
difficult of the two."
It was during this dreadful assault that the drummer boy, Orion P. Howe,
came to Sherman, calling out in a childish voice that one of the
regiments was out of ammunition, and must abandon its position unless
relief was sent. The general looked down from his horse upon the lad,
and saw the blood running from a wound in the leg.
"All right, my boy," said Sherman, "I'll send them all they need; but as
you seem to be badly hurt, you had better go to the rear and find a
surgeon and let him fix you up."
The boy saluted and started for the rear; but again he came running
back, shouting, "General, calibre fifty-eight, calibre fifty-eight!"
fearing that the wrong size might be sent, and prove useless. He was
afterwards, through Sherman, appointed a cadet at the Naval Academy,
Annapolis.
The siege of Vicksburg was begun at once. Mines were dug by both sides
and exploded. Chief Engineer S. H. Lockett, of the Confederates, tells
how a private suggested the firing of a wicker case filled with cotton,
which protected the Federals in their sapping. He took a piece of
port-fire, put it into cotton soaked with turpentine and fired it from
an old-fashioned bore musket. The wicker case took fire and burned up.
Barrels of powder, lighted by a time-fuse, were thrown into the ranks of
the besiegers.
As the weeks went by, the provisions for the soldiers and citizens of
Vicksburg were well-nigh consumed. They ate rats and mules. Flour was
five dollars a pound. Some of the people built rooms in the yellow clay
banks, and thus escaped the shells.
The soldiers grew desperate. General Pemberton hoped they could cut
their way out, and caused boats to be made out of some of the
houses,--they planned to make two thousand,--which they could use in
their escape down the river.
Finally, when all became hopeless, Pemberton said, "Far better would it
be for me to die at the head of my army, even in a vain effort to force
the enemy's lines, than to surrender it and live and meet the obloquy
which I know will be heaped upon me. But my duty is to sacrifice myself
to save the army which has so nobly done its duty to defend Vicksburg."
July 4, 1863, Pemberton surrendered his garrison of over thirty-one
thousand men, sixty thousand muskets, and over one hundred and seventy
cannon.
Grant said of Sherman, "His untiring energy and great efficiency during
the campaign entitled him to a full share of all the credit due for its
success. He could not have done more if the plan had been his own."
Before sunset of July 4, Sherman, with fifty thousand men, was in
pursuit of Johnston, who had been trying to aid Pemberton. Johnston
marched rapidly, driving all cattle, hogs, and sheep into the ponds, and
shooting them, so that they should not furnish food for the Federals,
and also to spoil the water. Johnston made a stand at Jackson, but soon
evacuated the place.
For bravery and success in this campaign, Grant was made major-general
in the regular army, the highest grade then allowed by law, and Sherman
and McPherson brigadier-generals in the regular army.
After the fall of Vicksburg, Sherman's family, Mrs. Sherman, Minnie,
Lizzie, Willie, and Tom, came from Ohio to visit him. Willie was nine
years old, fond of the parade of war, and was made a "sergeant" in the
regular battalion. He became ill in the low marshy country, and died of
typhoid fever, just after the family reached the Gayoso Hotel in
Memphis.
This death was a great blow to Sherman, as he showed in a letter which
he wrote to Captain C. C. Smith, commanding Battalion Thirteenth United
States Regulars: "I cannot sleep to-night till I record an expression of
the deep feelings of my heart to you, and to the officers and soldiers
of the battalion, for their kind behavior to my poor child.... The child
that bore my name, and in whose future I reposed with more confidence
than I did in my own plan of life, now being carried by steamer a mere
corpse, seeking a grave in a distant land, with a weeping mother,
brother, and sisters clustered about him. For myself I ask no sympathy.
On, on I must go, to meet a soldier's fate, or live to see our country
rise superior to all factions, till its flag is adored and respected by
ourselves and by all the powers of the earth....
"Child as he was, he had the enthusiasm, the pure love of truth, honor,
and love of country, which should animate all soldiers.... Assure each
and all, if in after years they call on me or mine, and mention that
they were of the Thirteenth Regulars when Willie was a sergeant, they
will have a key to the affections of my family that will open all it
has; that we will share with them our last blanket, our last crust!"
In the spring of 1867, Willie's body was removed from Lancaster, Ohio,
to St. Louis, and buried by the side of another child, Charles, born in
1864. Sherman's officers and men erected a beautiful monument to Willie,
and had inscribed on it, "Our little Sergeant Willie, from the First
Battalion Thirteenth United States Infantry."
After the dreadful battle of Chickamauga, Ga., Sept. 20, 1863, in which
we lost 15,851 men, and the Confederates 17,804, Grant went to
Chattanooga to retrieve that disaster. In this battle Thomas, "who,"
says General Fullerton, "never retreated and had never been defeated,"
so wonderfully held his ground that he was ever afterwards called the
"Rock of Chickamauga."
"With but twenty-five thousand men," said General Garfield, "formed in a
semicircle, of which he himself was the centre and soul, he successfully
resisted for more than five hours the repeated assaults of an army of
sixty-five thousand men, flushed with victory and bent on his
annihilation.
"Towards the close of the day his ammunition began to fail. One by one
of his division commanders reported but ten rounds, five rounds, and two
rounds left. The calm, quiet answer was returned, 'Save your fire for
close quarters, and when your last shot is fired give them the bayonet.
"On a portion of this line the last assault was repelled by the bayonet,
and several hundred rebels were captured. When night had closed over the
combatants, the last sound of battle was the booming of Thomas's shells
bursting among his baffled and retreating assailants."
Grant telegraphed to Thomas to hold Chattanooga at all hazards; and
Thomas, with his troops on less than half rations for the past month,
replied, "We will hold the town till we starve." He urged Sherman to
come at once. Then followed those memorable battles of Lookout Mountain,
when Hooker fought his "Battle above the clouds," and Missionary Ridge,
when Wood's and Sheridan's divisions under Thomas lost in one hour's
storming 2,287 men.
"Sherman was fighting the heavy column of the enemy on our left," said
General Henry M. Cist, "and the main part of the battle had been his
share." He lost about two thousand men.
At three o'clock the first rifle-pits on the ridge were to be carried,
and there they were to halt to await orders. There was some delay, so
that the order was not given till half-past three, when the guns
sounded, one, two, up to six, for the charge.
The enemy had four lines of breastworks, but one had been captured by
Thomas the day before. Three rifle-pits remained. As our men approached,
cheering, and breaking into a double-quick, the enemy poured upon them
shot and shell from their batteries, changing it soon to grape and
canister, with a terrific fire of musketry.
"Dashing through this over the open plain," says General Cist, "the
soldiers of the army of the Cumberland swept on, driving the enemy's
skirmishers, charging down on the line of works at the foot of the
ridge, capturing it at the point of the bayonet, and routing the rebels,
sending them at full speed up the ridge, killing and capturing them in
large numbers. These rifle-pits were reached simultaneously by the
several commands, when the troops, in compliance with their
instructions, lay down at the foot of the ridge awaiting further
orders."
Here they waited under a hot fire. The orders did not come; and then
without orders, first one regiment and then another, with their colors
raised, pushed up the mountain covered with rocks and fallen timber.
The centre of Sheridan's division reached the crest first, and almost at
the same time the ridge was carried in six places. Almost entire
regiments were taken from the enemy, and batteries, the Confederates
often bayoneted at their guns. In an hour the work had been
accomplished, and the storming of Missionary Ridge had passed into
history as a memorable instance of bravery. "After it was over," says
General Fullerton, "some madly shouted, some wept from very excess of
joy, some grotesquely danced out their delight,--even our wounded forgot
their pain to join in the general hurrah."
Grant and Thomas were watching the battle through their glasses. Grant
asked, "By whose orders are those troops going up the hill?"
"I don't know," said Thomas, "I did not."
"I didn't order them up," said Sheridan, "but we are going to take the
ridge."
Grant remarked that "it was all right if it turned out all right, but,
if not, some one would suffer."
By the capture of the ridge, Sherman was enabled to take the tunnel as
he had been ordered. Captain S. H. M. Byers, who was captured at the
tunnel with sixty of his regiment and put in Libby prison for seven
months--the sixty were soon reduced to sixteen by death--thus describes
the scene. "As the column came out upon the ground, and in sight of the
rebel batteries, their renewed and concentrated fire knocked the limbs
from the trees above our heads.... In front of us was a rail-fence.
'Jump the fence, boys,' was the order, and never was a fence scaled more
quickly. It was nearly half a mile to the rebel position, and we started
on the charge, running across the open fields. I had heard the roaring
of heavy battle before, but never such shrieking of cannon balls and
bursting of shells as met us on that run."
Sherman, in his official report, gave his officers and men due credit
for their "patience, cheerfulness, and courage." "For long periods," he
said, "without regular rations or supplies of any kind, they have
marched through mud and over rocks, sometimes barefooted, without a
murmur. Without a moment's rest after a march of over four hundred
miles, without sleep for three successive nights, we crossed the
Tennessee, fought our part of the battle of Chattanooga, pursued the
enemy out of Tennessee, and then turned more than a hundred and twenty
miles north, and compelled Longstreet to raise the siege of Knoxville."
Congress soon passed a resolution of thanks to Sherman and his army for
their "gallant and arduous services in marching to the relief of the
Army of the Cumberland, and for their gallantry and heroism in the
battle of Chattanooga, which contributed in a great degree to the
success of our arms in that glorious victory."
The grade of lieutenant-general was now revived in the army, and
bestowed upon Grant. He wrote Sherman at once to "express my thanks to
you and McPherson, as _the men_ to whom, above all others, I feel
indebted for whatever I have had of success. How far your advice and
suggestions have been of assistance, you know. How far your execution of
whatever has been given you to do entitles you to the reward I am
receiving, you cannot know as well as I do."
And Sherman wrote back: "I believe you as brave, patriotic, and just as
the great prototype Washington; as unselfish, kind-hearted, and honest
as a man should be; but the chief characteristic in your nature is the
simple faith in success you have always manifested, which I can liken to
nothing else than the faith a Christian has in his Saviour.
"This faith gave you victory at Shiloh and Vicksburg. Also, when you
have completed your best preparations, you go into battle without
hesitation, as at Chattanooga--no doubts, no reserve; and I tell you
that it was this that made us act with confidence. I knew, wherever I
was, that you thought of me, and if I got in a tight place you would
come--if alive."
Sherman at this time was put in command of the military division of the
Mississippi, with Schofield, Thomas, McPherson, and Steele under him.
Grant was to conquer Robert E. Lee and his large army at the East; and
Sherman, Joseph E. Johnston's army at the West and South.
Supplies were at once gathered by Sherman at Chattanooga for one
hundred thousand men, which would necessitate one hundred and thirty
cars, of ten tons each, to reach that city daily. Confederate raids
under Forrest and others were frequent; but, as in the case of Grant,
nothing could deter Sherman.
On May 5, 1864, the great army started for Atlanta, Ga., prepared to
fight its way. The men fought bravely at Resaca, at Allatoona Pass, and
elsewhere.
During the month of May, Sherman had advanced his army, as he says,
"nearly a hundred miles of as difficult a country as was ever fought
over by civilized armies. The fighting was continuous, almost daily,
among trees and bushes, on ground where we could rarely see a hundred
yards ahead." Sherman had lost 9,299 men; nearly two thousand in killed
and missing, and over seven thousand wounded. The enemy's loss was a
little over half that number.
From June 10 to July 3 an almost constant battle was waged about Kenesaw
Mountain, with a loss on our side of nearly eight thousand, and the
Confederate loss considerably less.
An amusing remark came to Sherman's ear at Kenesaw. One of the
Confederate soldiers said to another, "Well, the Yanks will have to git
up and git now, for I heard General Johnston himself say that General
Wheeler had blown up the _tunnel_ near Dalton, and that the Yanks would
have to retreat, because they could get no more rations."
"Oh," said the listener, "don't you know that old Sherman carries a
_duplicate_ tunnel along?"
The enemy were constantly driven back towards Atlanta. On July 22 a
bloody battle was fought near Atlanta, usually called the Battle of
Atlanta, in which the brave General McPherson was killed in the hottest
of the fight when passing from one column to another. He rode into a
wood, and soon his horse returned, wounded, bleeding, and riderless. His
body was recovered, with his gauntlets on and boots outside his
pantaloons, but his pocket-book with his papers was gone. The spot where
he fell was soon retaken by our men, and the pocket-book and its
contents were found in the haversack of a prisoner of war, captured at
the time.
McPherson was only thirty-four years old, over six feet high,
universally beloved, and apparently destined for a great future. Sherman
could not look long upon the body. "Better start at once, and drive
carefully," said the bluff but tender-hearted general to McPherson's
staff, as he covered the body with the flag. It was taken home to Clyde,
Ohio, where it was received with great honor, and buried near his
mother's house in a small cemetery, part of which is the family orchard
where he played when a boy.
General John A. Logan took the command after the death of McPherson, and
fought bravely. The attack was made upon his line seven times, and seven
times repulsed.
Sherman was often in extreme danger. Once, when he, Logan, and a few
others were talking together, a minie-ball passed through Logan's
coat-sleeve, scratching the skin, and struck Colonel Taylor in the
breast. A memorandum-book saved his life. At another time a cannon-ball
passed over Sherman's shoulder and killed the horse of an orderly
behind. Another ball took off the head of a negro close by Sherman.
The month of July was an extremely hot one, but the soldiers had been
in almost constant conflict. Our loss in that month was about ten
thousand men, and that of the enemy perhaps greater by a few hundreds.
Sherman's men tore up railroad-tracks, made bonfires of the ties,
wrapped the heated rails round trees and telegraph poles, and left them
to cool,--such rails could not be used again,--and filled up deep cuts
with trees, brush, and earth, commingled with loaded shells, so arranged
that they would explode if disturbed. Thus the devastation of war went
on.
Atlanta was full of foundries, arsenals, and machine-shops, and was
called the "Gate City of the South." "I knew that its capture," says
Sherman, "would be the death-knell of the Southern Confederacy."
Sept. 2 Atlanta could bear the Federal guns no longer, was evacuated by
the enemy, and our troops marched into the city with great rejoicing.
The losses during these four months had been over thirty thousand on
each side.
President Lincoln wrote to Sherman: "The marches, battles, sieges, and
other military operations, that have signalized the campaign, must
render it famous in the annals of the war, and have entitled those who
have participated therein to the applause and thanks of the nation."
Grant wrote from City Point, Va., "In honor of your great victory, I
have ordered a salute to be fired with _shotted_ guns from every battery
bearing on the enemy.... I feel that you have accomplished the most
gigantic undertaking given to any general in this war."
Sherman at once required all the citizens and families resident in
Atlanta to leave the city and go North or South as they chose, with a
reasonable amount of furniture and bedding. This order was denounced by
Hood, who had relieved Johnston, as unprecedented and cruel. A bitter
correspondence took place, in which Sherman said, "War is cruelty, and
you cannot refine it.... You might as well appeal against the
thunder-storms as against these terrible hardships of war. They are
inevitable; and the only way the people of Atlanta can hope once more to
live in peace and quiet at home, is to stop the war, which can only be
done by admitting that it began in error and is perpetuated in pride....
"I want peace, and believe it can only be reached through union and war,
and I will ever conduct war with a view to perfect and early success.
When peace does come, you may call on me for anything. Then will I share
with you the last cracker, and watch with you to shield your homes and
families against danger from every quarter."
Hood then took his army into Tennessee, and much of the old battle
ground was fought over. Allatoona Pass was wonderfully defended by
General John M. Corse, who lost a cheek-bone and an ear by a ball
cutting across his face, but still led his men, holding the pass and
killing the enemy three to one. Mr. John C. Ropes regards this fight "as
one of the most memorable occurrences of the war."
At Resaca, when General Hood demanded its surrender, Colonel Clark R.
Weaver said, "In my opinion, I can hold this post. If you want it, come
and take it." But Hood did not attempt it after his losses at Allatoona.
Sherman saw the impossibility of holding the country and defending the
railroads without constant losses. He telegraphed Grant, "With
twenty-five thousand infantry and the bold cavalry he has, Hood can
constantly break my road. I would infinitely prefer to make a wreck of
the road and of the country from Chattanooga to Atlanta ... and with my
effective army move through Georgia, smashing things to the sea."
On the morning of Nov. 15, 1864, this great army of about 65,000 men
began its march from Atlanta to the sea. The depot, round-house, and
machine-shops of the Georgia railroad had been burned. The fire
destroyed the heart of the city, but did not reach the mass of the
dwelling-houses. The army carried sixty-five guns, or one to each
thousand men. Each gun, caisson, and forge was drawn by four teams of
horses. There were twenty-five hundred wagons, with six mules each, and
six hundred ambulances with two horses each. Every soldier carried on
his person forty rounds of ammunition, and in the wagons were enough
cartridges to make up two hundred rounds to a man. The procession
occupied five miles or more of road.
Corps commanders alone were intrusted with the power of destroying
mills, cotton-gins, etc. "Where the army is unmolested," said Sherman,
"no destruction of such property should be permitted."
The cavalry and artillery were allowed to take horses, mules, and
wagons, especially from the rich, who were not usually as friendly as
the poor. Soldiers were not to enter the dwellings of the inhabitants,
but might gather vegetables and stock. Regular foraging parties might
gather provisions at any distance from the road travelled.
As the great company moved out of Atlanta, the black smoke of her
buildings rising high in air, the men sang "John Brown's body lies
a-mouldering in his grave." "Never before or since," says Sherman, "have
I heard the chorus of 'Glory, glory, hallelujah!' done with more
spirit, or in better harmony of time and place."
As Sherman moved past his men, some of them called out, "Uncle
Billy,"--they usually called him this,--"I guess Grant is waiting for us
at Richmond!"
The first night they camped by the roadside near Lithonia. All night
long groups of men were tearing up railroads and bending the heated
rails around trees or telegraph poles.
At the towns the white people came out to look upon the hated intruders,
and the colored people were frantic with joy. Each day foraging parties,
"Sherman's bummers" as they were called, usually about fifty men from a
brigade, would go out to the plantations for food.
"The foragers," says Major-General Jacob D. Cox in his "March to the
Sea," "turned into beasts of burden oxen and cows, as well as horses and
mules. Here would be a silver-mounted family carriage drawn by a jackass
and a cow, loaded inside and out with everything the country produced,
vegetable and animal, dead and alive. There would be an ox-cart,
similarly loaded, and drawn by a nondescript tandem team, equally
incongruous. Perched upon the top would be a ragged forager, rigged out
in a fur hat of a fashion worn by darkies of a century ago, or a
dress-coat which had done service at stylish balls of a former
generation." Many of the horses and mules collected were shot, as it
produced a bad effect on the infantry when too many idlers were mounted.
The usual march for the army was about fifteen miles per day. The
Southern press urged that the invading army be destroyed, starved,
obstructed by gun, spade, and axe. But the great host swept on.
At Milledgeville the arsenal and such public buildings as could be used
easily for hostile purposes were burned, while several mills and
thousands of bales of cotton were spared. Other places shared the same
fate.
As the army neared Savannah, they were assured by some prisoners whom
they took, that it would be found strongly fortified. On one of the
roads torpedoes had been planted, one of which exploded when touched by
a horse's hoof, killing the animal and literally blowing off the flesh
from the legs of the rider. This so angered General Sherman, that he
made some rebel prisoners, much against their will, pass over the road
to explode their own torpedoes, or to discover and dig them up.
Sherman demanded of General Hardee the surrender of Savannah. This
Hardee declined to do; but he evacuated the city about the time the
assault was to have been made, leaving behind his heavy guns, cotton,
railway-cars, steamboats, and other property, but destroying his iron
clads and navy-yards. The ground outside the forts was filled with
torpedoes, as was also the Savannah River. Log piers were stretched
across the channel below the city, and filled with the cobble-stones
that formerly paved the streets. A heavy force at once set to work to
remove the torpedoes and other obstructions from the river, and Savannah
became the great depot of supply for the troops. Very many destitute
Southern families were fed by Sherman.
Sherman telegraphed the President, Dec. 22, 1864: "I beg to present you,
as a Christmas gift, the city of Savannah, with over one hundred and
fifty heavy guns and plenty of ammunition, also about twenty-five
thousand bales of cotton."
There was great rejoicing at the capture of the city, as now Sherman
could march into the Carolinas and lay them waste, and then join his
army to that of Grant, who was besieging Lee in Richmond. Thomas had
conquered Hood at Nashville. The end of the war could be plainly seen.
Grant congratulated Sherman on his brilliant campaign. "I never had a
doubt," he said, "of the result. When apprehensions for your safety were
expressed by the President, I assured him, with the army you had, and
you in command of it, there was no danger but you would _strike_ bottom
on salt water some place; that I would not feel the same security, in
fact, would not have intrusted the expedition to any other living
commander."
Lincoln wrote, "The undertaking being a success, the honor is all yours;
for I believe none of us went further than to acquiesce.... But what
next? I suppose it will be safer if I leave General Grant and yourself
to decide."
Congress passed a vote of thanks to Sherman and his men for the great
March to the Sea, of three hundred miles in twenty-four days. This march
greatly interested Europe, though Sherman never considered it so
important as the passage of the army afterwards through the Carolinas.
The _London Times_ said: "Since the great Duke of Marlborough turned his
back upon the Dutch, and plunged hurriedly into Germany to fight the
famous battle of Blenheim, military history has recorded no stranger
marvel than this mysterious expedition of General Sherman, on an unknown
route, against an undiscovered enemy." Noted army men regard it as
having "scarcely a parallel in the history of war."
In January the whole army left Savannah, Ga., for Columbia, S.C.
Sometimes, in pouring rains, they waded up to their shoulders through
swamps previously considered impassable, or made roads for miles through
the mud by corduroying them with rails and split trees.
The Confederate General Johnston said later, in the hearing of General
Cox, concerning this part of the march, "he had made up his mind that
there had been no such army since the days of Julius Cæsar."
"Whoever will consider," says General Cox, "the effect of dragging the
artillery and hundreds of loaded army wagons over mud roads, in such a
country, and of the infinite labor required to pave these roads with
logs, levelling the surface with smaller poles in the hollows between,
adding to the structure as the mass sinks in the ooze, and continuing
this till the miles of train have pulled through, will get a constantly
increasing idea of the work, and a steadily increasing wonder that it
was done at all."
On Feb. 16 Sherman camped near an old prison bivouac opposite Columbia,
called Camp Sorghum, "where remained," he says, "the mud-hovels and
holes in the ground which our prisoners had made to shelter themselves
from the winter's cold and the summer's heat."
When the army entered Columbia, they found a long pile of burning
cotton-bales, which Sherman was told had been fired by General Wade
Hampton's men before their departure. At night a high wind fanned these
flames; and though Sherman's men assisted in trying to put out the fire,
the heart of the city was burned--several churches, the old State House,
hotels, and dwellings. About half the city was in ashes. Sherman gave
the mayor five hundred cattle to feed the people, and one hundred
muskets to preserve order after the departure of his army.
One lady saved her home from pillage by showing to the troops a book
which Sherman had given her years before. The boys knew Uncle Billy's
writing. They guarded her house, and a young man from Iowa tended her
baby while she was receiving a social call from Sherman.
While in Columbia, a poem was presented to Sherman by Adjutant S. H. M.
Byers of the Fifth Iowa Infantry, written while a prisoner in that city,
where it was arranged and sung by the prisoners. It was entitled
"Sherman's March to the Sea," beginning,--
"Our camp-fires shone bright on the mountains
That frowned on the river below,
As we stood by our guns in the morning,
And eagerly watched for the foe;
When a rider came out of the darkness
That hung over mountain and tree,
And shouted, 'Boys, up and be ready!
For Sherman will march to the sea!'"
Sherman at once attached Byers to his staff.
Several foundries, the factory of Confederate money, and the state
arsenal at Columbia, were destroyed by Sherman before leaving.
Charleston was evacuated Feb. 18, for fear of its falling into Federal
hands; and Wilmington was captured by General Terry Feb. 22. At Cheraw a
large number of guns and thirty-six hundred barrels of powder were
taken; at Fayetteville a magnificent United States arsenal was destroyed
by our men.
Two battles were fought at Averysboro and at Bentonville, Johnston now
commanding the Confederates, our loss being over two thousand men in
both battles. March 23 Sherman's army entered Goldsborough, N.C., after
a march from Savannah of four hundred and twenty-five miles, across five
large rivers, and innumerable swamps, in fifty days, the army being
almost as fresh as when they started from Atlanta.
General Sherman then left his army under Schofield, and started for City
Point, Va., to meet Lincoln and Grant on March 28. "When I left
Lincoln," says Sherman,--this proved to be their last meeting,--"I was
more than ever impressed with his kindly nature, his deep and earnest
sympathy with the afflictions of the whole people, resulting from the
war, and by the march of hostile armies through the South." He wanted no
more blood shed, and was anxious for the men on both sides to return to
their homes.
"Of all the men I ever met," said Sherman, "he seemed to possess more of
the elements of greatness, combined with goodness, than any other."
Sherman returned to his army, and made ready for one more march, to meet
Grant. He was to start April 10. However, April 6 Richmond fell, and Lee
and his whole army surrendered to Grant at Appomattox Court House, Va.,
April 9, 1865.
Sherman's army were resting, April 11, at the end of the hour's march,
when a staff-officer galloped along the lines, shouting, "Lee has
surrendered!" The soldiers were wild with delight, and flung their caps
at him, as they shouted, "You're the man we've been looking for these
three years!"
A Southern woman came to the gate with her children as the columns
passed, and, learning the reason of the commotion, looked at her little
ones, while the tears fell down her cheeks, and said tenderly, "Now
father will come home."
April 13 Johnston asked for a suspension of hostilities; on the evening
of April 14 Lincoln was assassinated, to the great grief of the nation;
April 18 a basis of agreement was effected between Sherman and Johnston,
which was modified at Washington, so as to correspond with the terms
made between Grant and Lee. On April 26 Johnston surrendered to Sherman
his whole force, 36,817 men, and the troops in Georgia and Florida,
52,453, making 89,270 men. The march to the sea and through the
Carolinas had helped, as Sherman believed it would, to end the Civil
War.
There remained only for the closing scene the grand review of the Army
of the West for six hours and a half along Pennsylvania Avenue,
Washington, May 24, the day following the review of the Army of the
Potomac. Some of the division commanders, by way of variety, had added
goats, cows, and mules, loaded with poultry, hams, etc. There were also
families of freed slaves in the procession, the women leading the
children. Each division was preceded by its corps of black helpers, with
picks and spades.
In Sherman's farewell to his army he urged those who remained in the
service to continue the same hard work and discipline which they had had
in the past, and those who went to their homes "not to yield to the
natural impatience sure to result from our past life of excitement and
adventure," but to make a home and occupation in our grand, extensive,
diversified country.
"Your general," he said, "now bids you farewell, with the full belief
that, as in war you have been good soldiers, so in peace you will make
good citizens; and if, unfortunately, new war should arise in our
country, 'Sherman's Army' will be the first to buckle on its old armor,
and come forth to defend and maintain the Government of our
inheritance."
After the war Sherman was in command of the military division of the
Mississippi, with headquarters at St. Louis. He took especial interest
in the development of the Northern and Southern Pacific railroads. When
Grant was made General, July 25, 1866, Sherman was made
Lieutenant-General. In 1869 when Grant became President, Sherman was
made General, with the provision that the office should go to no other
person. Sheridan was made Lieutenant-General with the same provision.
From Nov. 10, 1871, to Sept. 17, 1872, General Sherman travelled abroad
in Turkey, Russia, Austria, and Western Europe, and received
distinguished honors. He kept full notes. After his return he published
his memoirs in two volumes, which the _Nation_ characterises as "one of
the most noteworthy examples of self-revealing in the whole range of
autobiography."
He received degrees from Harvard, Yale, Dartmouth, and Princeton
colleges. To Harvard college he sent a large picture of himself, which
now hangs in the library. He was much sought after in social circles,
and was an interesting speaker and writer. Once when speaking on the
American flag to the pupils of the Packer and Polytechnic Institutes in
Brooklyn, he said of the "Stars and Bars," the Confederate flag, "They
cut out the blue. They left heaven out of their flag, and so were
destined to defeat."
To the cadets at West Point he said: "When war comes you can have but
one purpose--your country--and by your country I mean the whole country,
not part of it." Everywhere he was outspoken, of simple manners,
humorous, brave, unselfish, and comprehensive in mind and actions.
"The two or three great captains in any age," says the _Nation_, "are
alike in the supreme qualities which make a general. They have the
unruffled presence of mind which makes their intellectual operations
most sure and true in the greatest and most sudden peril, and the true
greatness which makes the most momentous decision and unhesitating
action under vast responsibility, as if these were the every day work of
their lives. The present generation has in our army seen two such, Grant
and Sherman. It is doubtful if it has seen a third."
General Oliver O. Howard, who lost an arm under Sherman, writes, "Take
him all in all, General Sherman was not only one of the greatest
military geniuses in history, but a model of a kindly, generous, and
faithful man in every position in life."
Sherman's soldiers idolized him. To them he was always "Old Tecums" or
"Uncle Billy." He believed in fighting at the front. He said in his
Memoirs: "No man can properly command an army from the rear. He must be
at its front.... Some men think that modern armies may be so regulated
that a general can sit in an office and play on his several columns as
on the keys of a piano. This is a fearful mistake. The directing mind
must be at the very head of the army--must be seen there, and the effect
of his mind and personal energy must be felt by every officer and man
present with it, to secure the best results."
General Sherman was strongly urged to become a candidate for the
Presidency. He declined absolutely, as he did not wish its cares and
duties; knowing also that the religion of his wife and children, Roman
Catholicism, though he was not a Romanist, would cause opposition. His
son, Thomas Ewing Sherman, though educated for the law, became a
Catholic priest.
After retiring from the army, as the law requires at sixty-four years of
age, though allowed full pay, thirteen thousand five hundred dollars
yearly to the end of his life, Sherman removed to New York, living at 75
West Seventy-first Street. Here, in the midst of his children and
grandchildren, he passed his last days happily. Of his four sons,
Willie, Charles, Thomas, and Philemon Tecumseh, the first two died. Of
his four daughters, Minnie, Lizzie, Ella, and Rachel, Minnie was married
to Lieutenant Fitch, Ella to Lieutenant Thackara, and Rachel to Dr.
Thorndike.
General Sherman was always partial to the West, and believed in its
great future.
Mrs. Sherman died Nov. 27, 1888, and was buried in Calvary Cemetery, St.
Louis, in a plot selected by herself and husband over twenty years
before. Here their two sons and three grandchildren were also buried.
Early in February, 1891, General Sherman took cold, which resulted in
his death from bronchial trouble and asthma, Saturday afternoon at 1.50,
Feb. 14. He died without apparent pain, all his family about him, except
the Rev. Thomas E. Sherman, his son, who was on his way home from
Europe.
Though requesting that his body should not lie in state, the family were
finally persuaded to allow the thousands of the General's friends to
pass by the coffin in his own parlors from ten to four o'clock. There
was deep and unfeigned sorrow. The funeral was one never to be
forgotten. New York City was draped with mourning. All the shipping
bore the emblems of grief, with flags at half-mast. Business was
practically suspended and the streets crowded.
For two hours and a half, while bells were tolling, the great procession
moved past, with inverted muskets, muffled drums, torn battle-flags,
cavalry and artillery, all following the caisson with its heroic dead
wrapped in the flag. The caisson in its funereal trappings was drawn by
five black horses, three of these abreast. Two of the horses were ridden
by artillerymen in blue uniforms, with black helmets and red plumes.
Behind the caisson was a soldier leading a handsome black riderless
horse, covered with black velvet, on whose back were Sherman's saddle
and his riding boots reversed.
The great of the nation were present to do Sherman honor. Among the
distinguished generals was Joseph E. Johnston from the South, who was
also at the funeral of Grant, and for whom both the Northern generals
had great respect and admiration.
As the funeral _cortège_ passed along, appropriate selections were
played by the bands. Gilmore's band electrified all hearts by the song
turned into a dirge, composed for Sherman by Henry C. Work.
"Bring the good old bugle, boys, we'll have another song,
Sing it with a spirit that will start the world along,
Sing it as we used to sing it, fifty thousand strong,
While we were marching through Georgia.