Beaufort, South Carolina, Jan. 6, 1865.

 

My Dear Sister:

                        Yes, I am indeed on the soil of that fire eating, arch rebel State, South Carolina. We left Savannah on transports on the afternoon of the 3^rd and reached here the same evening. The wide, wide sea, with

            "Water, water all around, but not a drop to drink",

 

and the ships, sloops, gunboats, etc., were a novel sight to most of us. Beaufort is a considerable sized town, pleasantly situated and well built. The population consists of negroes and Northerners who have come here to trade. Things sell here at very reasonable prices, and it seems like Paradise in comparison with Savannah, where it would cost a man $1 to buy a small loaf of bread, and where a man could eat near $5 worth of plain food and still be hungry. Abominable as these prices were, scanty rations would sometimes induce us to pay them. Rice was the / most reasonable article we could buy, it being but 25 cents per quart. In Beaufort we can procure bread at 10 cents per loaf.

 

            I will now go back to our march.

 

            The morning of the 21^st set in raining, and we were to be rear guard for that day,—a not very agreeable prospect. The muddy roads delayed the train so that it was about 10 o'clock before we left camp. Meanwhile I went to a neighboring plantation to avoid the rain. Here I came across an aged negro, about 80 or 90 I should judge. I inquired somewhat of the old man concerning his history, which proved to be quite interesting. He was originally free born, being from the State of New York. Had lived in Troy and Albany. (I proved this statement of his by asking him questions which he answered correctly.) Had been in Hartford, New Haven, etc. Went to Baltimore, unfortunately lost his free papers, was arrested as a runaway slave, lay in jail six months, unclaimed of course, and was then sold to pay jail fees. His / master brought him to Georgia, where he has remained ever since. He was in the war of 1812 as a drummer, and as he recounted these old reminiscences his eyes glistened with the fire of youth. He expressed a strong desire to go along with us, were it possible, but the stiff joints of age, and unwillingness to leave his wife prevented, and he said that he would remain and wait his time. I was much interested in the old man's story which bore many evidences of truth.—About 10 o'clock the rear left camp. The roads were horrible. Mules fell down, wagons stuck in the mud, and darkness found the train stretched out miles in length, and the rear but three miles from camp. The darkness was intense and the rain now gave place to cold. The fences along the roadside were set on fire to give light and heat. There was every prospect of an uncomfortable, sleepless night. Such being the prospect, three or four of us resolved to go ahead, and then lie down and rest until / morning; so we waded through the mud and darkness for about 3 miles, when we came to a plantation, where we lay down under a shed and slept.

 

            About 4 o'clock on the morning of the 22^nd we arose. Everything was frozen stiff. Warming ourselves by the glowing embers of a cotton gin we commenced our journey. After traveling about 3 miles we stopped and breakfasted, and then going forward again found camp in about a mile. Only two of our company were in ahead of us. Some did not come up until night. About one half hour after our arrival the Regiment started. A cool blustering wind rapidly dried the roads and served to exhilarate us. Nine miles march brought us to Gordon junction, 20 miles east of Macon. We reached camp about 12 o'clock, noon. About 7 o'clock in the evening we went out to tear up railroad. There was a biting cold exhilarating air, exciting to hilarity and activity, and soon long lines of huge fires were blazing, around which moved the busy forms of the shouting laughing crowd, whilst the band sent forth the national airs upon the clear night air. The heavens were all aglow with the blaze. The road was differently built from any other I had ever seen. The track was laid upon pine stringers, about 14 inches square, and 20 or 25 feet long. The ties were all of pine. These pine stringers and ties rendered the work of destruction quite easy. The road is very straight, and must have been delightfully smooth to ride upon. After about one hour's labor we returned to camp.

 

            On the morning of the 23^d we received marching orders, but they were countermanded, and we remained in camp all day. We here had our first experience of camping in the pine woods. The timber is very resinous, and vast quantities of smoke roll up when it is burned which blacken and / begrime everything. We would have passed as very respectable negroes the next day when we emerged from the woods. I may as well say here that we have never emerged from pine country from that day till this, and I don't see as we are likely to soon as both South and North Carolina are all pine. The effect upon clothes and skin can be imagined, and after wintering in this smoke, certainly no one will recognize us as white people.

 

            Here I will again pause in our march.

 

            We are now here waiting to refit for a campaign. Campaigning wears out clothes and shoes terribly fast. A dirtier, more ragged set of men than Sherman's boys are just now would be hard to find. And yet every one is cheerful and remarkable health prevails. I am pretty fortunate as to clothes. I have a good blouse and my pants are in pretty good condition, and my shoes tolerable. I live in hopes of being able to boast two shirts and two pair of drawers before long, my supply of those articles being limited to one at present. Perhaps you would like to know how I manage about washing. Thus I do it. When I wash my pants I go in / my drawers; when I wash my drawers I go in my pants; when I wash my shirt, button up my blouse and do without any. But isn't there danger of catching cold, you ask. Not a bit in this warm climate.

 

            Tell mother that I would like to have her send me a pair of suspenders; elastic ones.

 

            Our mail is as yet very irregular. We have received none for several days.

 

                                                Write as often as possible.

                                                           

Your aff. Brother,

           

Direct to Beaufort.

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