August 29, 1864.
I would much like to know what the Chicago Convention is doing to-day. We hear there is a possibility they may nominate Sherman. How we wish they would. He would hardly accept the nomination from such a party, but I would cheerfully live under Copperhead rule if they would give us such as Sherman. Sherman believes with Logan, “that if we can’t subdue these Rebels and the rebellion, the next best thing we can do is to all go to hell together.”
We have already thrown our army so far to the right that our communications are not safe, but yet we can’t quite reach the Montgomery or Macon railroads. It is determined to leave the 20th Corps at Vinings to guard the railroad bridge, and I think to move all the rest to the right. The army has just moved its length by the right flank. Looks easy and simple enough, but it took three days and nights of the hardest work of the campaign. The whole line lay in sight, and musket range of the enemy, not only our skirmishers, but our main line, and half a dozen men could, at any point, by showing themselves above the works, have drawn the enemy’s fire. A gun, a caisson, or a wagon could hardly move without being shelled. On the night of the 25th, the 20th Corps moved back to the river to guard the railroad bridge seven miles from Atlanta; and the 4th moved toward the right.
Night of the 26th the 15th, 16th and 17th moved back on different roads toward the right. The wheels of the artillery were muffled and most of them moved off very quietly. One gun in our division was not muffled, and its rattling brought on a sharp fire, but I only heard of two men being hurt. Our regiment was deployed on the line our brigade occupied, and remained four hours after everything else had left. At 2:30 a.m. we were ordered to withdraw very quietly. We had fired very little for two hours, and moved out so quietly that, though our lines were only 25 yards apart in one place, the Rebels did not suspect our exit. We moved back three-quarters of a mile and waited an hour, I think, for some 17th Corps skirmishers. We could hear the Johnnies popping away at our old position, and occasionally they would open quite sharply as though angry at not receiving their regular replies. When we were fully two miles away they threw two shells into our deserted works. We did not lose a man, but I give you my word, this covering an evacuation is a delicate, dangerous, and far-from-pleasant duty. There was a Johnnie in the “pit” nearest us that got off a good thing the other day. A newsboy came along in the ditch, crying, “Heer’s your Cincinnati, Louisville and Nashville papers.” Crack! Crack!! went two Rebel guns, and a Johnnie holloed “There is your Atlanta “Appeal!” We caught up with the brigade just at daylight, it was raining, but our watch, the hard march, the wear and tear of such duty, made some sleep a necessity, so we tumbled down in the rank smelling weeds, and I was sleeping equal to Rip Van Winkle in half a minute. In half an hour we were awakened, took breakfast and marched a couple of miles to where the train was. Here somebody got Rebel on the brain, and we were run out a mile to investigate. We stopped in a nice, fine grove, and I didn’t want to hear any more about the Rebels, but went to sleep instanter. That sleep did me a world of good. I woke about 4 p.m., and found the whole regiment with scarce a half-dozen exceptions, sound asleep. Finally the rear of the train started and we followed. At just midnight we came up to the train corral and laid down for the remnant of the night. At 6 a.m., we left the train and rejoined the division. At dark we camped on the Montgomery and Atlanta railroad, where the mile post says 15 miles to Atlanta. The march has been through a miserable rough country.
We have now been more than half-way around Atlanta, and I have not yet seen a country house that would more than compare favorably with the Coleman Mansion, or a farm that would in any respect vie with the stumpiest of Squire Shipley’s stump quarter, or the most barren and scraggiest of Copperas creek barren or brakes. At 12 p.m. they aroused our regiment to tear up railroad track. In one and one-quarter hours we utterly destroyed rails and ties for twice the length of our regiment.
We, by main strength with our hands, turned the track upside down, pried the ties off, stacked them, piled the rails across and fired the piles. Used no tools whatever. On the 29th the 16th Corps moved down and destroyed the railroad to Fairburn. On the 30th the army started for Macon railroad, Kilpatrick’s cavalry in advance. He did splendidly. Had hard skirmishing all the day. Took at least a dozen barricades, and went about as fast as we wanted to. He saved the Flint river bridge, and our corps crossed it, and by 12 p.m., were in good position with works within one-half mile of Jonesboro and the railroad.
Darkness kept us from taking the road that night. The enemy had a strong line of pickets all around us and we built our works under their fire. At daylight the 31st, we found the Rebels in plain sight in front of our regiment. I never saw them so thick. Our regiment is on the extreme right of the division.
