On the 25th I returned to my camp on Big Black, gave all the necessary orders for these divisions to move, and for the Third (Tittle’s) to remain, and went into Vicksburg with my family.  The last of my corps designed for this expedition started from camp on the 27th, reached Vicksburg the 28th, and were embarked on boats provided for them.  General Halleck’s dispatches dwelt upon the fact that General Rosecrans’s routes of supply were overtaxed, and that we should move from Memphis eastward, repairing railroads as we progressed, as far as Athens, Alabama, whence I was to report to General Rosecrans, at Chattanooga, by letter.

I took passage for myself and family in the steamer Atlantic, Captain Henry McDougall.  When the boat was ready to start, Willie was missing.  Mrs. Sherman supposed him to have been with me, whereas I supposed he was with her.  An officer of the Thirteenth went up to General McPherson’s house for him, and soon returned, with Captain Clift leading him, carrying in his hands a small double-barreled shot gun; and I joked him about carrying away captured property.  In a short time we got off.  As we all stood on the guards to look at our old camps at Young’s Point, I remarked that Willie was not well, and he admitted that he was sick.  His mother put him to bed, and consulted Dr. Roler, of the Fifty-fifth Illinois, who found symptoms of typhoid fever.  The river was low; we made slow progress till above Helena; and, as we approached Memphis, Dr. Roler told me that Willie’s life was in danger, and he was extremely anxious to reach Memphis for certain medicines and for consultation.  We arrived at Memphis on the 2d of October, carried Willie up to the Gayoso Hotel, and got the most experienced physician there, who acted with Dr. Roler, but he sank rapidly, and died the evening of the 3d of October.  The blow was a terrible one to us all, so sudden and so unexpected, that I could not help reproaching myself for having consented to his visit in that sickly region in the summer-time.  Of all my children, he seemed the most precious.  Born in San Francisco, I had watched with intense interest his development, and he seemed more than any of the children to take an interest in my special profession.  Mrs. Sherman, Minnie, Lizzie, and Tom, were with him at the time, and we all, helpless and overwhelmed, saw him die.  Being in the very midst of an important military enterprise, I had hardly time to pause and think of my personal loss.  We procured a metallic casket, and had a military funeral, the battalion of the Thirteenth United States Regulars acting as escort from the Gayoso Hotel to the steamboat Grey Eagle, which conveyed him and my family up to Cairo, whence they proceeded to our home at Lancaster, Ohio, where he was buried.  I here give my letter to Captain C. C. Smith, who commanded the battalion at the time, as exhibiting our intense feelings: 

Gayoso house, Memphis, Tennessee
October 4, 1863, Midnight