In late 1864
and early 1865, 62,000 battle-hardened Northern soldiers, under the command of
William Tecumseh Sherman, marched from Atlanta, Georgia to Columbia, South
Carolina, destroying everything in their path. Sherman had promised that he
would "make Georgia howl" and '"punish South Carolina as she deserves" for her
"sins" against the Union. In the name of "destroying slavery" and with the
approval of President Abraham Lincoln, who in his Second Inaugural Address vowed
"malice to no one," Sherman's troops destroyed civilian homes, desecrated
graves, raped and murdered helpless women and children, and left thousands, both
White and Black, in their wake to forage through the destruction for what food
they could find. What follows are a few personal eyewitness accounts of the
horrors experienced by Southerners which demonstrate why Sherman was
named...
The Nero of the Nineteenth Century:
Eyewitness
Accounts of William T. Sherman's
Destructive March to the Sea
"Oh! The Horror of That Night!"
by Mrs. Nora Canning
Savannah, Georgia
About the 24th of November we
heard that Sherman's army was in possession of Milledgeville and was on its way
to Savannah, burning and destroying everything in its course. Our home being
directly on the wagon road from Milledgeville in Savannah, we of course expected
them to lay everything in ashes that they could find.
On Sunday, the 28th of November, we heard that the destroyers were
encamped just above our upper plantation, about four miles from our home. That
night the heavens 
looked
as if they were on fire from the glare of hundreds of burning houses. About
noon, just as we were ready to sit down to dinner, a little negro boy came
running in half breathless from fright.
"Marster," he cried, "dey's coming down de lane."
"Who is coming.?" asked his master.
"Two white man's wid blue coats on," the little negro answered.
Hundreds of the "Bluecoats" could be seen everywhere.
One could not look in any direction without seeing them. They searched every
place. Some of the men insisted that my husband should go down to the swamp with
them to show them where some syrup was hidden. He told them he was old and
feeble and was not able to walk so far. One of them thereupon went and brought a
mule to put him on it and three of them started with him to the swamp.
While my husband was absent the destroyers
set fire to the ginhouse, in which were stored over two hundred bales of cotton
and several bales of kersey, which we had hidden between the bales of cotton.
The granary, in which were several hundred bushels of wheat, was also set on
fire.
One man, who had been particularly
insulting, came up to me and laughed harshly. "Well, madam," he said,
sneeringly, "how do you like the looks of our little fire? We have seen a great
many such within the last few weeks."
Just
then I saw my husband coming up on a bareback mule with a Yankee soldier on each
side of him holding him on. He was brought up to the piazza, lifted from the
mule and brought into the house. They took him into a small room and I followed.
He turned to me and requested me to give the men his watch.
"Why?" I asked. "They have no business with your watch."
"Give it to them," he repeated with a
gasp, "and let them go. I am almost dead."
I got my husband to his room as soon as possible. Imagine my horror, when
he revived sufficiently to talk, to hear that the fiends had taken him to the
swamp and hanged him. He said he suspected no harm until he got about two miles
from the house when they stopped the mule, and said, "Now, old man, you have got
to tell us where your gold is hidden." He told them he had no gold. They cursed
him and told him that story would not do, then they said they had brought him to
the swamp to make him tell where it was. He repeated his first statement, and
told them he had no gold. They then took him to a tree that bent over the path,
tied a rope around his neck, threw it over a projecting limb and drew him up
until his feet were off the ground. He did not quite lose consciousness when
they let him down and said: "Now, were is your gold?" He told them the same
story, whereupon they raised him up again, and that time, he said, he felt as if
he was suffocating. They again lowered him to the ground and cried out fiercely:
"Now, tell us where that gold is or we will kill you, and your wife will never
know what has become of you."
"I have told
you the truth. I have no gold," he again repeated. "I have a gold watch at the
house but nothing else."
They then lifted
him up and let him fall with more force than before. He heard a sound as of
water rushing through his head and then a blindness came over him, and a dry
choking sensation was felt in his throat as he lost consciousness.... When he
was able to sit up they placed him upon the mule and brought him to the house to
get his watch.
Oh! the horror of that
night! None but God will ever know what I suffered. There my husband lay with
scorching fever, his tongue parched and swollen and his throat dry and sore. He
begged for water and there was not a drop to be had. The Yankees had cut all the
well ropes and stolen the buckets, and there was no water nearer than half a
mile.
Saturday morning we looked out upon
a scene of desolation and ruin. We could hardly believe it was our home. One
week before it was one of the most beautiful places in the state. Now it was a
vast wreck. Gin-houses, packing screws, granary -- all lay in ashes. Not a fence
was to be seen for miles. The corn crop had not been gathered, and the army had
turned their stock into the fields and destroyed what they had not carried off.
Burning cotton and grain filled the air with smoke, and even the sun seemed to
hide its face from so gloomy a picture.
I
remember well the distress of one of the negro women. She was sitting on her
doorsteps swaying her body back and forth... and making a mournful noise, a kind
of moaning, a low sorrowful sound, occasionally wringing her hands and crying
out. As we approached her, she raised her head.
"Marster," she said, rolling her eyes strangely, "What kind of folks dese
here Yankees? Dey won't even let de dead rest in de grave."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"You know my chile what I bury last week? Dey take em up and left
em on top of de groun for de hog to root. What you tink of dat, sir?"
Her story was true. We found that the vandals had
gone to the graveyard and, seeing a newly made grave, had dug down into it and
taken up the little coffin containing a dead baby, no doubt supposing treasure
had been buried there. When they discovered their mistake, they left it above
ground, as the poor mother had expressed it, "for the hog to root."
We soon discovered that almost everything we had
hidden had been found, and either carried off or wantonly destroyed. All around
the grove were carcasses of cows, sheep, and hogs, some with only the hind
quarters gone and the rest left to spoil. There were piles of carcasses all
around where the army had camped. Some of them had been killed and left without
being touched. The question of getting anything to eat was a very serious one.
The stores were all burned, not one being left within thirty-five miles. The
mills were all destroyed, or partially so, railroads were torn up, bridges
broken, all our stock carried off and our fences burned. There seemed to be
nothing left to live on during the winter. Oh! the first of December, 1864, is
indelibly impressed upon my mind.
"Debauchery... Afflicted on the Negroes"
by Dr. Daniel Trezevant
Columbia, South
Carolina
The Yankees' gallantry,
brutality and debauchery were afflicted on the negroes.... The case of Mr.
Shane's old negro woman, who, after being subjected to the most brutal indecency
from seven of the Yankees, was, at the proposition of one of them to "finish the
old Bitch," put into a ditch and held under water until life was extinct....
Mrs. T.B.C. was seized by one of the
soldiers, an officer, and dragged by the hair and forced to the floor for the
purpose of sensual enjoyment. She resisted as far as practical- held up her
young infant as a plea for sparing her and succeeded, but they took her maid,
and in her presence, threw her on the floor and had connection with her....
They pinioned Mrs. McCord and robbed her.
They dragged Mrs. Gynn by the hair of her head about the house. Mrs. G. told me
of a young lady about 16, Miss Kinsler, who... three officers brutally ravished
and who became crazy from it....
"My God! I Pity Your City!"
by John T. Trowbridge
Northern journalist
Early in the evening [of
February 17] as the inhabitants, quieted by General Sherman's assurances, were
about retiring to their beds, a rocket went up in the lower part of the city.
Another in the center, and a third in the upper part of town, succeeded. Dr.
R.W. Gibbes was in the street near one of the Federal guards, who exclaimed on
seeing the signals, "My God! I pity your city!" Mr. Goodwyn, who was mayor at
the time, reports a similar remark from an Iowa soldier. "Your city is doomed!
These rockets are the signal!" Immediately afterwards fires broke out in twenty
different places.
The dwellings of
Confederate Treasury Secretary George A. Trenholm and General Wade Hampton were
among the first to burst into flames. Soldiers went from house to house,
spreading the conflagration. Fireballs, composed of cotton saturated with
turpentine, were thrown in at doors and windows. Many houses were entered and
fired by means of combustible liquids poured upon beds and clothing, ignited by
wads of burning cotton, or by matches from a soldier's pocket. The fire
department came out in force, but the hose-pipes were cut to pieces and the men
driven from the streets. At the same time universal plundering and robbery
began.
The burning of the house of R.W.
Gibbes, an eminent physician, well-known to the scientific world, was thus
described to me by his son:
"He had a
guard at the front door; but some soldiers climbed in at the rear of the house,
got into the parlor, heaped together sheets, poured turpentine over them, piled
chairs on them, and set them on fire. As he remonstrated with them, they laughed
at him. The guard at the front door could do nothing, for if he left his post,
other soldiers would come in that way.
"The guard had a disabled foot, and my father had dressed it for him. He
appeared very grateful for the favor, and earnestly advised my father to save
all his valuables. The house was full of costly paintings, and curiosities of
art and natural history, and my father did not know what to save and what to
leave behind. He finally tied up in a bedquilt a quantity of silver and gems. As
he was going out the door the house was already on fire behind him -- the guard
said, 'Is that all you can save?" "It is all I can carry,' said my father.
'Leave that with me,' said the guard; 'I will take charge of it, while you go
back and get another bundle.' My father thought he was very kind. He went back
for another bundles, and while he was gone, the guard ran off on his lame leg
with all the gems and silver."
The
soldiers, in their march through Georgia, and thus far into South Carolina, had
a wonderful skill in finding treasures. They had two kinds of divining-rods,"
negroes and bayonets. What the unfaithful servants of the rich failed to reveal,
the other instruments, by thorough and constant practice, were generally able to
discover. On the night of the fire, a thousand men could be seen in the yards
and gardens of Columbia by the glare of the flames, probing the earth with
bayonets.
The dismay and terror of the
inhabitants can scarcely be conceived. They had two enemies, the fire in their
house and the soldiery without. Many who attempted to bear away portions of
their goods were robbed by the way. Trunks and bundles were snatched from the
hands of hurrying fugitives, broken open, rifled, and then hurled into the
flames. Ornaments were plucked from the necks and arms of ladies, and caskets
from their hands. Even children and negroes were robbed.
Fortunately the streets of Columbia were broad, else many of
the fugitives must have perished in the flames which met them on all sides. The
exodus of homeless families, flying between walls of fire, was a terrible and
piteous spectacle. Some fled to the parks; others to the open ground without the
city; numbers sought refuge in the graveyards. Isolated and unburned dwellings
were crowded to excess with fugitives.
Three-fifths of the city in bulk, and four-fifths in value, were
destroyed. The loss of property is estimated at thirty millions. No more respect
seems to have been shown for buildings commonly deemed sacred, than for any
others. The churches were pillaged, and afterwards burned. St. Mary's College, a
Catholic institution, shared their fate. The Catholic Convent, to which had been
confided for safety many young ladies, not nuns, and stores of treasure, was
ruthlessly sacked. The soldiers drank the sacramental wine, and profaned with
fiery draughts of vulgar whiskey the goblets of the communion services. Some
went off reeling under the weight of priestly robes, holy vessels and
candlesticks.
Yet the army of Sherman did
not in its wildest orgies forget its splendid discipline. "When will these
horrors cease?" asked a lady of an officer at her house. "You will hear the
bugles at sunrise," he replied; "then they will cease, and not till then." He
prophesied truly. "At daybreak, on Saturday morning," said Gibbes, "I saw two
men galloping through the streets, blowing horns. Not a dwelling was fired after
that; immediately the town became quiet."
Some curious incidents occurred. One man's treasure, concealed by his
garden fence, escaped the soldiers' divining-rods, but was afterwards discovered
by a hitched horse pawing the earth from the buried box. Some hidden guns had
defied the most diligent search, until a chicken, chased by a soldier ran into a
hole beneath the house. The soldier, crawling after and putting in his hand for
the chicken, found the guns.
A soldier,
passing in the streets and seeing some children playing with a beautiful little
greyhound, amused himself by beating its brains out. Some treasures were buried
in cemeteries, but they did not always escape the search of the soldiers, who
showed a strong distrust of new-made graves.
Of the desolation and horrors our army left behind it, no description can
be given. Here is a single instance: At a factory on the Congaree, just out of
Columbia, there remained for six weeks a pile of sixty-five dead horses and
mules, shot by Sherman's men. It was impossible to bury them, all the shovels,
spades, and other farming implements of the kind having been carried off or
destroyed.
Columbia must have been a
beautiful city, judging by its ruins. Many fine residences still remain on the
outskirts, but the entire heart of the city is a wilderness of crumbling walls,
naked chimneys, and trees killed by the flames. The fountains of the desolated
gardens are dry, the basins cracked; the pillars of the houses are dismantled,
or overthrown; the marble steps are broken. All these attest to the wealth and
elegance which one night of fire and orgies sufficed to destroy.
A Souvenir of Sherman's Bummers
Letter of Lieutenant Thomas J. Myers
to Mrs. Thomas J.
Myers, Boston, Massachusetts
Found in the Streets of Columbia, S.
Carolina
Camp Near Camden, S.C.
Feb. 26, 1865
My Dear Wife — I have no time
for particulars. We have had a glorious time in this State. Unrestricted license
to burn and plunder was the order of the day. The chivalry have been stripped of
most of their valuables. Gold watches, silver pitchers, cups, spoons, forks,
&c., are as common in camp as blackberries. The terms of plunder are as
follows: Each company is required to exhibit the results of its operations at
any given place -- one-fifth and first choice falls to the share of the
commander-in-chief and staff; one-fifth to the corps commanders and staff;
one-fifth to field officers of regiments, and two-fifths to the company.
Officers are not allowed to join these
expeditions without disguising themselves as privates. One of our corps
commanders borrowed a suit of rough clothes from one of my men, and was
successful in this place. He got a large quantity of silver (among other things
an old-time milk pitcher) and a very fine gold watch from a Mrs. DeSaussure, at
this place. DeSaussure was one of the F.F.V.'s of South Carolina, and was made
to fork over liberally. Offiers over the rank of captain are not made to put
their plunder in the estimate for general distribution. This is very unfair, and
for that reason, in order to protect themselves, subordinate officers and
privates keep back every thing that they can carry about their persons, such as
rings, earrings, breat pins, &c., of which, if I ever get home, I have about
a quart. I am not joking -- I have at elast a quart of jewelry for you and all
the girls, and some No. 1 diamond rings and pins among them. General Sherman has
silver and gold enough to start a bank. His share in gold watches alone at
Columbia was two hundred and seventy-five. But I said I could not go into
particulars. All the general officers and many besides had valuables of every
description, down to the embroidered ladies' pocket handkerchiefs. I have my
share of them, too. We took gold and silver enough from the damned rebels to
have redeemed thier infernal currency twice over. This, (the currency,) whenever
we came across it, we burned, as we considered it utterly worthless.
I wish all the jewelry this army has could be carried
to the "Old Bay State." It would deck her out in glorious stle; but, alas! it
will be scattered all over the North and Middle States. The damned niggers, as a
general rule, prefer to stay at home, particularly after they found out that we
only wanted the able-bodied men, (and, to tell you the truth, the youngest and
best-looking women.) Sometimes we took off whole families and plantations of
niggers, by way of repaying secessionists. But the useless part of them we soon
manage to lose; sometimes in crossing rivers, sometimes in other ways.
I shall write to you again from
Wilmington, Goldsboro', or some other place in North Carolina. The order to
march has arrived, and I must close hurriedly. Love to grandmother and aunt
Charlotte. Take care of yourself and children. Don't show this letter out of the
family.
Your affectionate husband,
THOMAS J. MYERS, Lieut., &c.
P.S. I will send this by the
first flag of truce to be mailed, unless I have an opportunity of sending it to
Hilton Head. Tell Sallie I am saving a pearl braclet and ear-rings for her; but
Lambert got the necklace and breast-pin of the same set. I am trying to trade
him out of them. These were taken from the Misses Jamison, daughters of the
President of the South Carolina Secession Convention. We found these on our trip
through Georgia.