Ozaukee County's
War History
by Daniel E. McGinley

as extracted from THE PORT WASHINGTON STAR
November 28, 1896



The Ozaukee Rifles
Chapter 22

The obstacles to farther progress offered by both nature and man at Salkiehatchie, were enough to discourage an ordinary commander and an army having self-confidence, but they were considered but trifling matters by Sherman and his men, and the struggle for a footing on the farther side of the river continued until the 4th division forced its way across some distance above and sweeping down the east bank routed the enemy and sent him back through the country on the run. The 32d Wisconsin infantry fought heroically in this battle, being one of the first regiments to get across the river and swamp, and losing fifty men killed and wounded. The wounded, of which there were several hundred, were taken back to Pocotaligo in ambulances and wagons, and a pontoon bridge having been laid, our artillery and wagons were soon safely across. The rebs having been driven from Rivers Bridge the whole line of the Salkiehatchie was abandoned by them, and the other corps of our army crossed at other points farther up the stream without meeting resistance. The whole army moved forward on February 6, and that night our corps reached the Little Salkiehatchie, which like the larger river was a vast flood. Here the stream had nine channels each of which had to be bridged, but our boys were about as handy at bridge-building as they were at destroying, and the bridges were all completed before morning. On the pine highlands between the big and little Salkiehatchies we passed a number of new plantations, and found miles of the timber girdled and dead, the trees standing bare of bark and bleached white, resembling with their white limbs legions of giant spectres.

Starting early on the seventh our corps marched straight for Midway, on the South Carolina railroad, which we reached early in the day almost unopposed. Gen. Sherman in his ìMemoirsî says: ìGen. Howard was with the Seventeenth corps, marching straight for Midway, and when about five miles distant, he began to deploy the leading division, so as to be ready for battle. Sitting on his horse by the roadside, while the deployment was making, he saw a man coming down the road, riding as hard as he could, and as he approached he recognized him as one of his own ìforagers,î mounted on a white horse, with a rope bridle and a blanket for a saddle. As he came near he called out: ëHurry up, general, we have got the railroad!í So, while we, the generals, were proceeding deliberately to prepare for a serious battle, a parcel of our foragers had got ahead and actually captured the South Carolina railroad, a line of vital importance to the rebel government.î It has been said that this ìforagerî messenger who thus rode into fame, was none other than Tom Murphy, one of the representatives of the Ozaukee Rifles in the foraging force.

It will not be out of place and may be of interest to the readers to pause right here and tell a little about the famous ìbummersî or foragers of Shermanís army and the work they performed. As I have stated in an earlier chapter, two men from each company, making twenty men from each regiment of infantry, were detailed when the army left Atlanta to act as foragers, whose duty it was to scour the country, ahead and upon the flanks of the marching column, and secure food for the men and animals of their respective commands. They started out on foot, each squad under a commissioned officer who bore a written permit or certificate for his party, and anyone found foraging without such a permit could be arrested and punished by the provost marshall of the division or corps. The foragers were not many days on the road before they had all secured mounts ranging from the magnificent thoroughbred steeple-chaser down to the little three-by-four donkeys, whose great ears waved like signals of distress, and whose voice, when raised to protest against his captivity, told the enemy the whereabouts of the forager and called forth many curses and maledictions from his rider and his comrades. By the time Savannah had been reached, thousands of the ìbummersî had become adept in their line; and as the same system of gathering supplies was continued in the Carolina campaign and many of the same ìbummersî were sent out by the different organizations in the army, foraging was reduced to a science before North Carolina was reached.

The foragers were generally awakened long before the reveille sounded, and between 4 and 4:30 A.M. were mounted and off for their daily work. Reaching the main road which was generally filled with foragers for a distance of eight or ten miles at that hour, all broke into a mad gallop which was kept up for many miles and until all the bivouacs of the different divisions had been passed and crossroads reached. Then the different squads galloped off in different directions, following byways and lanes until they reached plantations, hamlets or villages that contained supplies such as they needed. The first squad to reach a house, barn, stable or other building containing supplies, or horses or mules, had the undisputed possession of its contents. In the fertile regions, the foragers had usually secured enough of supplies for the day, but then their trouble and hard labor began in earnest. The provisions captured were often five, eight and twelve miles from the place fixed upon for the bivouac of that night, and to that bivouac the supplies must be brought and there divided among the men. All sorts and descriptions of conveyances were pressed into service, and foraging parties could be seen wending their way to the next bivouac or camping places with costly family carriage filled with sweet potatoes, meal and bacon, while fettered poultry decked the roof of the carriage, and a big bundle of corn or fodder was tied to the footman's seat in the rear. To such carriages were often hitched mules or donkeys and sometimes steers and cows, harnessed with the old rope-tug, cornhusk-collar, harness so common on the southern plantation. Again a great lumbering farm wagon, a two wheeled cart would rumble by, loaded down with good things for the boys in the ranks and often when no wheeled conveyance could be secured, horses, mules, donkeys and cattle would be loaded like pack-mules and driven to camp. The ìbummersî took all the provisions they could find and what they needed and no domestic animal of any kind was left behind. All hogs and cattle found were butchered for the use of the troops, and all horses, mules and donkeys that were disabled were shot. No wheeled vehicle was left behind to be of use to the enemy, neither were any factories, mills or workshops spared. All were given to the flames.

The foragers easily fed the army in the fertile regions, but in the sparsely settled parts, they often came in at night with little or nothing to eat and in very bad humor. They became so well mounted and skillful that they were fully as good as the cavalry as advance or flank guards. In the Carolina campaign, some of the most daring captures of towns and railroads were made by the ìbummers,î and in any of the crossings of the large rivers were forced by the same dauntless horsemen. The life of the ìbummerî was full of peril, excitement and labor, and many of them paid for their fearlessness with their lives. Hardly a day passed in which they did not have bouts with the rebel cavalry and sometimes had the temerity to attack the enemy's infantry and artillery.

To better understand these marches, I will explain to the reader that the rule was that the division that led the corps one day should march at the rear tomorrow, the brigade that led a division one day should form its rear the next; and the regiment that led a brigade today should be the last regiment in that brigade tomorrow, and thus each command alternated in leading, marching in the rear, and marching in the center of the column. This rule was necessary for a number of reasons. It gave each command a chance to march at the head of the column -- the post of honor, -- where it had its choice of the forage that might be on that road, had the roads in the best condition possible, and was able to bivouac at an early hour in the day or evening. It made every command take its place at the rear where it could not expect to reach camp at a reasonable hour if the roads were bad, and was obliged to draw its artillery and wagons through roads so badly cut up by the preceding commands as to be almost impassable.

We reached Midway in the midst of a heavy rain which continued two or three days and made the roads so wet and bad that we were obliged to corduroy nearly every yard of them. This of course required a great deal of labor but the boys worked and marched with their usual good humor, although wet, cold and weary. The railroad was torn up and completely destroyed for a distance of fifty miles and resuming the march our corps reached and forced a crossing of the Edisto river on the 9th. The next day we crossed the Edisto river on a pontoon bridge (each wing of the army carried a long pontoon bridge on wagons), and made straight for Orangeburg, a small town where the Charleston & Columbia railroad touches the North Fork of the Edisto. Passing through fertile country abounding in large plantations, we reached the North Fork, opposite Orangeburg, on the evening of the 11th. Here the enemy was found strongly entrenched on the east side of the flooded swamp that bordered the river, and our pickets kept up a hot fire on their picket line all night. That night we received a mail that was brought to us in the ambulances that had been sent to Pocotaligo with the wounded of the Salkiehatchie fight. It was joyfully welcomed by the boys, many of whom were sorry that there was no return mail.

On the 12th, our brigade was ordered to march further down the river and try to force a crossing. It was anything but an agreeable task, but the boys knew some troops must do it, and would have quarreled with any command that might seek to deprive them of the honor. Taking a part of our pontoon train with it, the brigade marched about three miles down the river, crossing a flooded swamp a mile in width en route, and reached the point designated where we found the enemy watching our movements on the farther side of the river. Slinging their cartridge boxes around their necks, in order to keep their ammunition dry, the boys of our brigade were soon in line of battle. The pontoons were unloaded from the wagons and prepared for action, and then preceded by the usual skirmish line, the brigade plunged into the icy water of the swamp and the struggle had begun. At the point where our regiment entered the water stood Generals Sherman, Howard and Blair, very interested spectators, the former walking nervously back and forward with hands behind his back and watching every movement with an anxious face.

As soon as our lines came in view, the rebels opened on us, but the timber was so thick in the swamp that it sheltered us from their fire until we reached the river in the center. The pontoons were hauled forward and in short order a bridge was thrown across the channel, the troops hurried across and again plunged into the water, which was three to four feet deep, and made for the enemy's line. The water was so intensely cold that some of the boys were nearly used up when we reached the land, nearly if not quite a mile from where we entered the swamp. But struggling on, the brigade reformed and ìdressedî its lines in an open field and in plain view of the enemy's earthworks, which stood on the top of a hill a quarter of a mile away. The musketry fire was quite hot, but their aim was bad and their bullets flew wide of their mark. We expected to hear their artillery open, but were fortunately disappointed.