Camp in the Woods, 10 miles west of

Raleigh, N.C. April 26^th '65.

 

My Dear Sister:

                        Contrary to my expectation when I last wrote, we yesterday took up our line of march toward the enemy. It seems that the agreement made by Gen. Sherman was not agreeable to the authorities at Washington and so the order for a move comes, and dashes our hopes of immediate peace to the ground. Here, at a distance of 10 miles from Raleigh we are again stopped whilst negotiations are pending. We still hope for peace, although our anticipations for that event are considerably lessened since Andy Johnson took the Presidential chair. The way we view matters is this: If Gen. Sherman, stern warrior as he is, makes an agreement satisfactory to himself, it ought to be satisfactory to men who have staid at home and looked on while we did the work. To / stand on a little punctillo about treating with rebel authorities may seem very fine to the folks at home, but to us poor soldiers who have to pay for such things with our blood it is anything but desirable.

 

            The streets of Raleigh were the scene of a grand military pageant last Monday. The 17^th Corps was on that day reviewed by Lieut. Gen. Grant. For two hours the streets resounded to the steady tramp of bronzed veterans, whose bright arms glistened and sparkled in the rays of the sun. They marched with the firm steady step, and the proud bearing of men accustomed to military drill, and who feel confidence in their own prowess. The chief point of attraction of course was where the Lieut. Gen. sat. His arrival was not known until the review came off but a large concourse had gathered to witness the review. The two great heroes of the war, Grant and Sherman, sat side by side upon their horses as the troops passed before them. I had a good view of them from the opposite side of the / street. Very unlike in appearance were they. Gen. Sherman is tall, erect, and with a forehead of magnificent breadth. Withal there is a quick nervous expression about him. His distinguishing persev characteristic, stern resolution that stops at no obstacle, is strongly stamped upon his countenance. Gen. Grant is a man of much less commanding presence. He is of ordinary stature, and considerably stoop shouldered. He wore a hat with the brim turned down so that his countenance did not come into bold relief. Yet there was an expression about his mouth that told of that extraordinary pertinacity of purpose, that marks his character. Still looking upon that little form one could scarce realize that he was gazing upon the foremost General of the age. There was an air of quiet self possession about him. As the torn, weather beaten colors of each Regiment passed, he reverently lifted his hat and sat with uncovered head. Behind these two notables sat a host of lesser stars, whose fame was only eclipsed by the heroes of Richmond and Atlanta. / There was Meade from the Potomac Army, the saintly Howard, the fiery, impetuous Logan, Slocum commanding the Army of Georgia, Schofield of the Army of the Ohio, Terry of Fort Fisher, Cox of the 23^d Corps, (the Marietta man), wild, reckless, brave Mower of the 20^th, Blair of the 17^th, and a host of others too numerous to mention. Such an array of military talent is not often seen together.

 

            Jno. Stewart has at last arrived at the Regiment. He has been for several weeks in Pocotaligo, with a number of other convalescents, and was not permitted to come back. That wedding cake, of course, was non est. I was very glad to see him again. He looks quite well.

 

            Mother's letter and the socks, paper and thread have come to hand.

 

            There is no prospect of our being paid off soon, and I hope mother will not fail to send that money I spoke about. The $1 previously sent has been received.

 

            I will now add a little of the journal "Among the Swamps and Pines".

 

            Thursday, Feb. 23^d we marched 11 miles, crossing the Catawba River, one of the headwaters of the Santee. It was late when we reached camp owing to the delay in crossing the river, and laying the pontoon. A drizzling rain rendered the long, clay hills very slippery and the ascent and descent was very toilsome, causing one to long almost for the sandy level we had been accustomed to travel. We camped for the night at a little place called Liberty Hill. During the night it continued to rain.

 

            Friday, Feb. 24^th. we moved 16 miles. The rain still continued to descend, and the roads were in a wretched condition. The country now became more rolling, although there were still some hills, and what seemed most strange of all huge rocks.

 

            Saturday, the 25^th the rain ceased, and we moved 14 miles over by-roads. The soil now became sandy again, and the roads were tolerably good. Toward night we crossed, Lynch River, / a tributary of the Great Pedee. The bridge, strange to say was unharmed, but the recent heavy rains had so swollen the stream that its banks were overflowed, and it was still rising. The pioneers endeavored to construct a foot path of rails, but they speedily washed away, and no resource remained but to wade. A staff officer stood in the water encouraging the men to enter, and pointing out holes. If a man was lucky enough to keep out of these holes, he could escape with a wetting a little above his knees, but many a luckless wight was soused all over. Every one was very merry, and loud shouts of laughter were was the sympathy that one would get if he stepped into a hole. After watching others about one hour, I managed to so engineer my way that I escaped a ducking. One had to wade for about 300 yards.

 

            Sunday, 26^th we moved 12 miles over by-roads, and through a Pine Barren. Very much of the land in these barrens is marshy, so that a team will sink in up to the hub. In such places the road must all be corduroyed, a labor of no small magnitude, especially if no rail fences / are at hand. If there is a fence near, a regiment is marched up to it and each man shoulders a rail, and the fence soon walks off. The appearance of the long line of rails moving along the road is quite picturesque. During this day's march we passed but one or two houses, the country being mostly too poor for cultivation. Pine forests were the main feature, interspersed sometimes with little scrubby oaks.

 

            Monday, 27^th was spent in crossing Big Lynch River. The banks were low and swampy and overflown, and it was necessary to build corduroy road and bridge through water from two to six feet deep. The work was an undertaking of no small magnitude, as this road had to be constructed for a distance of nearly two miles. It was finished however before dark. Great credit for alacrity and good management belong to some one.

 

            Here I must stop again for the present. Please write soon. Direct to Raleigh.

                                                                                   

Your Brother,

George.

SOURCES