War Crimes Against Southern Civilians

by Walter Cisco

  Troops marched out of burning Atlanta, heading to Covington by way of Lithonia and Stone Mountain.' When they left Covington for Macon, wrote local resident Dolly Lunt Burge,

  They robbed every house on their road of provisions, sometimes taking every piece of meat, blankets, & wearing apparel, silver & arms of every description. They would take silk dresses and put them under their saddles & things for which they had no use. Is this the way to make us love them & their union? Let the poor people answer whom they have deprived of every mouthful of meat & of their stock to make any. Our mills, too, they have burned, destroying an immense amount of property.'

  In Madison the railroad depot, tracks, cotton, and public property quickly went up in flames. Businesses were plundered, but of course soldiers were unable to transport much property with them. Instead, they destroyed all they could and amused themselves by such pranks as wearing women's hats taken from milliners' shops. Troops entered homes to continue their work of vandalism. Anything portable-china, silverware, small items of furniture-was thrown from windows. Pianos and wall mirrors were simply smashed where they were.'

  In Henry County, southeast of Atlanta, when soldiers came to the plantation home of Jim Smith they were not content merely to steal and destroy. A former slave, Charlie Tye Smith, recalled how "Ole Marse Jim" was made to

  pull off his boots and run bare-footed through a cane brake with half a bushel of potatoes tied around his neck; then they made him put his boots back on and carried him down to the mill and tied him to the water post. They were getting ready to break his neck when one of Master's slaves, "Ole Peter Smith," asked them if they intended to kill Marse Jim, and when they said "Yes," Peter choked up and said, "Well, please, suh, let me die with old Marse!"

  With that, the Yankees ended their fun and left.'

  At the Monroe County plantation of Cal Robinson, the invaders "ransacked the place, took all the victuals from the white folks and give 'em to the slaves," remembered one little girl. After the soldiers left the food was returned "'cause they was our own white folks and they always done give us plenty of everything.""' That was the experience, too, of Emma Hurley, a slave who lived in Lexington. After stealing anything they found of value, Yankees threw meat from the smokehouse to the slaves, but after they left, most was returned. "The Yankees poured out all the syrup and destroyed everything they could," remembered Emma." "They took everything that was not red-hot or nailed down," said Marshal Butler, a slave in Wilkes County.''

  At the Glenn plantation south of Lexington, soldiers harassed Mrs. Glenn, pulling and jerking her long hair, trying to make her tell them where valuables might be hidden. The Yankees invited slaves to help themselves to meat from the smokehouse. Black children were crying and upset, remembered former slave Martha Colquitt,

  because we loved Mistress and didn't want nobody to bother her. They made out like they were goin' to kill her if she didn't tell 'em what they wanted to know, but after a while they let her alone.... After the Yankees was done gone off Grandma began to fuss, "Now, them soldiers was tellin' us what ain't so, 'cause ain't nobody got no right to take what belongs to Master and

  At the nearby Echols plantation troops invited slaves to take all they wanted from the smokehouse as well as personal property from the master's home and then go where they wanted. Former slave Robert Shepherd recounted that none took them up on their offer of appropriating what was not theirs. When the invaders had gone, Mr. Echols called all of his bondsmen together. He was overcome with emotion and could barely speak, recalled Robert. "Master said he never knowed before how good we loved him. He told us he had done tried to be good to us and had done the best he could for us and that he was mighty proud of the way every one of us had done behaved ourselves."'"

  "Madam, I have orders to burn this house," said one Federal to a resident on the road from Madison to Milledgeville. She replied that she hoped they would not burn the home of defenseless women.

  "I'll insure it for fifty dollars," he replied. "I've got no fifty dollars to pay for insuring it; and if it depends upon that, it must burn."

  An offer to "insure" property was one way Federals found to extort cash from their victims. "Soon as he saw he couldn't frighten me into giving him anything, he went to plundering," she said.15

  Louise Caroline Cornwell watched as troops took "every living thing on the farm-took every bushel of corn and fodder, oats and wheat-every bee gum." They then put the torch to the gin house, blacksmith shop, and stored cotton. "Gen. [Oliver 0.] Howard and staff officers came at tea time," remembered Mrs. Cornwell. Howard was known for his supposed piety. "We managed to have something to eat for that meal, which was the last for several days, and while Gen. Howard sat at the table and asked God's blessings, the sky was red from flames of burning houses."16

  Kate Latimer Nichols, twenty-seven, was sick and bedridden when the Yankees arrived at her farm home near Milledgeville. Two soldiers forced their way past a servant who guarded the door to her room and raped her. "Poor woman," wrote a neighbor in her diary, "I fear that she has been driven crazy." Indeed, the victim never recovered from the ordeal, dying in a mental institution.'

  At Milledgeville, Georgia's capital until shortly after the Civil War, soldiers wrecked the library and destroyed priceless artifacts housed in the museum there. A bridge leading to the town had been burned to slow the advance of the Federal army, and when Sherman learned of this he ordered that some nearby house be randomly chosen for destruction.

  At Sandersville, Confederates destroyed a supply of fodder before retreating. On Sherman's orders several houses in the neighborhood were torched in retaliation as his men ransacked the town. "In war," said Sherman when questioned about it, "everything is right which prevents anything. If bridges are burned, I have a right to burn all houses near it." This was in accordance with his orders, issued back on November 9. He then made it clear that "should guerillas or bushwhackers molest our march, or should the inhabitants burn bridges, obstruct roads, or other wise manifest local hostility, then army commanders should order and enforce a devastation more or less relentless."'"

  Maj. James Austin Connolly agreed wholeheartedly with his commander. Any civilians who would dare destroy food or fodder before Federals could confiscate it for their own use would be severely punished.

  Let them do it if they dare. We'll burn every house, barn, church, and everything else we come to; we'll leave their families houseless and without food; their towns will all be destroyed, and nothing but the most complete desolation will be found in our track. This army will not be trifled with. If citizens raise their hands against us to retard our march or play the guerrilla against us, neither youth nor age nor sex will be respected. Everything must be destroyed. . . . We have gone so far now in our triumphal march that we will not be balked."

  "We have Sherman's word that it is his wish to conduct the war on civilized principles," mocked Henry Timrod, assistant editor of the Columbia Daily South Carolinian.

  The inhabitants of an invaded district have no right to annoy an invading army in any way. To plant a single obstacle in the path of the beneficent power which comes to take care of their property and to relieve them of the "weight of too much liberty," is a crime justly provocative of the bitterest retaliation.... This is the Yankee version of the laws of civilized war. It is a piece with Sherman's mode of thinking and writing on every subject."

  Mrs. Nora Canning and her elderly husband certainly offered no resistance when Federal troops arrived at their home near Louisville. The soldiers insisted that Mr. Canning show them where a quantity of syrup had been hidden in the swamp. The old gentleman told them he was unable to walk that far, so they brought a mule for him to ride. While he was gone troops fired the gin house, granary, and a large quantity of cloth. "The Negroes went out and begged for the cloth," wrote Mrs. Canning, "saying that it was to make their winter clothes. The cruel destroyers refused to let the Negroes have a single piece." "Well, madam," sneered one of the soldiers
, "how do you like the looks of our little fire. We have seen a great many such, within the last few weeks."

  Meanwhile, Mr. Canning's interrogators got down to business in the swamp, two miles from the house. "Now, old man, you have to tell us where your gold is hidden." When he replied that his money was in the bank, they cursed and led him to a tree over the path, tied a rope around his neck, threw it over a branch, and lifted him up until his feet were off the ground. Just before he lost consciousness, he was asked again, "now where is your gold?" Another denial led to another jerking off the ground until he nearly suffocated. Lowering him again, they shouted, "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 insisted. "I am an old man and at your mercy. If you want to kill me you have the power to do it, but I cannot die with a lie on my lips. I have no gold. I have a gold watch at the house, but nothing else."

  "Swing the old Rebel up again!" shouted the leader. This time Mr. Canning heard a sound like rushing water, followed by blindness, before losing consciousness. Finally convinced that he must be telling the truth, the blue-clad gang poured water on his face and brought him back to the house, where they stole his gold watch.

  "Oh! the horrors of that night!" wrote Nora Canning. "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." Mr. Canning continued to suffer for days. "His nose would bleed, and bloody water would ooze from his ears. His eyes were bloodshot and pained him greatly. His tongue was swollen.""

  At the farm of Sam Hart and his wife, Yankees burned every building except the detached kitchen. The elderly Mrs. Hart was forced to cook for them, after which the soldiers knocked over the table, smashed everything in sight, stole the silver, burned their carriage, and took their horse.t'

  "Missus, for God's sake come out here, and see what you can do about these here devils," said Cornelia Screven's cook, Nancy. Yankee troops had arrived at their Liberty County home and were forcing Nancy to prepare food for them, devouring all she had, and demanding ground cornmeal for their horses.

  "Please don't take that meal," said Mrs. Screven, "my children are very hungry, and we have nothing else to eat."

  "Damn you," one shouted, "I don't care if you all starve; get out of my way or I'll push you out the door."''

  James Morgan, a little boy in the village of Sunbury, was ordered by a Federal trooper to bring a burning coal from his fireplace. He watched as they rode to the local church. "I wondered where they were going to build the fire. I knew the church had no chimney. I followed them to the church. They took rails from a fence nearby and built the fire under the stair steps. Soon the church was blazing."24

  Forager from Sherman's army

  Refugee Eliza Andrews and her party passed through territory only recently visited by Sherman's army. She recounted,

  About three miles from Sparta we struck the "Burnt Country." There was hardly a fence left standing all the way from Sparta to Gordon. The fields were trampled down and the road was lined with carcasses of horses, hogs, and cattle that the invaders, unable either to consume or to carry away with them, had wantonly shot down to starve out the people and prevent them from making their crops. The stench in some places was unbearable.... The dwellings that were standing all showed signs of pillage, and on every plantation we saw the charred remains of the gin-house and packing screw, while here and there, lone chimney-stacks, "Sherman's Sentinels," told of homes laid in ashes. The infamous wretches!

  Eliza Andrews found a field where the Yankee army had camped weeks earlier. Now "poor people of the neighborhood were wandering over it, seeking for anything they could find to eat, even picking up grains of corn that were scattered around where the Yankees had fed their horses."25

  A Northern reporter described how Union soldiers would first ransack a house.

  If the spoil were ample, the depredators were satisfied, and went off in peace; if not, everything was torn and destroyed, and most likely the owner was tickled by sharp bayonets into a confession where he had his treasure hid. If he escaped, and was hiding in a thicket, this was prima facie evidence that he was a sulking rebel; and most likely some ruffian, in his zeal to get rid of such vipers, gave him a dose of lead, which cured him of his Secesh tendencies. Sorghum barrels were knocked opened, bee-hives rifled, while their angry swarms rushed frantically about. Indeed, I have seen a soldier knock a planter down because a bee stung him. Hogs were bayoneted to bleed; chickens, geese, and turkeys knocked over and hung in garlands ... cows and calves, so wretchedly thin that they drop or perish on the first day's march, are driven along, or, if too weak to travel, are shot, lest they should give aid to the enemy.

  Should the house be deserted, the furniture is smashed to pieces, music is pounded out of four hundred dollar pianos with the ends of muskets. Mirrors were wonderfully multiplied and rich cushions and carpets carried off to adorn teams and war-steeds. After all was cleared out, most likely some set of stragglers wanted to enjoy a good fire, and set the house, debris of furniture, and all the surroundings in a blaze. This is the way Sherman's army lived on the country. They were not ordered to do so, but I am afraid they were not brought to task for it much either.1"

  One Illinois soldier in a letter home told of troops being repeatedly warned against pillaging, without it affecting their conduct in the slightest. Almost never enforced, the rule was winked at by nearly all in authority. That same soldier told how his comrades "had a great time last night in Irwinton," for "the citizens had buried a great many things to keep them from the `vandals' and the boys soon found it out. Hundreds of them were armed with sharpened sticks probing the earth, `prospecting.' They found a little of everything, and I guess they took it all to the Another Federal, a major, admitted that nothing was done "to prevent these outrages," that prohibitions "are not enforced."'"

  At one home Federal cavalry commander Brig. Gen. Judson Kilpatrick himself ordered troops to vandalize the place and burn surrounding buildings. One slave who tried to put out the flames was threatened with death.24

  "It was universally understood that men were to help themselves to any thing eatable," one Federal wrote home, adding we "wasted & destroyed all the eatables we couldnt [sic] carry off."

  I rather felt sorry for some women who cried & begged so piteously for the soldiers to leave them a little and [not to take] from such poor places, yet after all I dont [sic] know but extermination is our only means now. They feel now the effect of this wickedness [secession] & who can sympathize very much with them.'

  The Macon Telegraph described the situation in nearby Clinton, where

  hundreds of our people are without anything to eat-their stock of cattle and hogs are killed; horses and mules with wagons are all taken off-all through our streets and commons are to be seen dead horses and mules-entrails of hogs and cattle killed, and in many instances, the hams only taken-oxen and carts taken away, so that we are not able to remove the offensive matter-our school houses and most of the churches burned.

  Other crimes were far worse. "Atrocities most heinous were committed," the same correspondent wrote, confiding that "female servants [were] taken and violated without mercy.""

  "Many Negroes were enticed away from homes of comfort to share the uncertain fortunes of a Winter march to the coast," wrote an Augusta journalist, "and then-freedom to starve.""' Freed blacks following the Federal army were stopped at Ebenezer Creek when troops were ordered to remove a pontoon bridge and leave thousands of these unwanted civilians on the other bank. Attempting to ford the creek, many panicked and subsequently drowned." Sherman defended his corps commander's actions, claiming he merely did not want to lose the pontoon bridge. In a letter to Washington on the matter, Sherman tried to dispel similar rumors "that I burned 500 niggers at one pop in Atlanta, or any such nonsense.
I profess to be the best kind of a friend to Sambo."" Sherman's anti-black bias was by now becoming notorious. To a friend, the general privately confided that "I like niggers well enough as niggers," but only "fools & idiots" promoted their advancement."'

  A Union officer estimated that his army in marching through Georgia "cleaned up the country generally of almost every thing upon which the people could live." The path of destruction he estimated at being forty miles wide, and "as we have left the country I do not see how the people can live for the next two years.""" Sherman himself calculated the damage done at one hundred million dollars, 80 percent of which was "simple waste and destruction."17 But he was sure that any theft from individuals that might have been committed by his troops was "exceptional and incidental.""'

  Chapter 21

  "Sometimes the World

  Seemed on Fire"

  Sherman in South Carolina

  "I do sincerely believe that the whole United States, North and South, would rejoice to have this army turned loose on South Carolina to devastate that State, in the manner we have done in Georgia," wrote Sherman to Ulysses S. Grant, just prior to his invasion of the Palmetto State.' He continued this theme in a letter to Chief of Staff Henry W. Halleck on Christmas Eve 1864.

  We are not only fighting hostile armies, but a hostile people, and must make old and young, rich and poor, feel the hard hand of war.... The truth is the whole army is burning with an insatiable desire to wreak vengeance upon South Carolina. I almost tremble at her fate, but feel that she deserves all that seems in store for her.'