June 27, 1864, daylight.
The battle comes off to-day. It will be opened on the flanks at 6 a.m. We do not commence until 8 a.m. Our brigade and one from each of the other two divisions of the corps are selected to charge the mountain. The 17th A. C. will try the left hand mountain. If we are successful with a loss of only half our number in this mountain charging, I will think our loss more than repaid. I believe we are going to thoroughly whip Johnston to-day, and if we fail I do not care to live to see it.
Front of Kenesaw Mountain, June 26, 1864.
Nothing worth mentioning has occurred since my last. The usual amount of artillery and musketry have kept us sure of the enemy’s still holding his position. I have sent you, piecemeal, a journal of every day since May 1st, excepting the last four days, which were stupid. It promises to be interesting enough now. We received orders yesterday p.m. to be ready to move at dark, and were all glad enough. When we are in the face of the enemy I believe one is better contented in the front line than anywhere else, though, like every other good thing, it becomes old. At 7 p.m. we moved out and it took us until 2 a.m. to march three miles. We relieved Jeff C. Davis’ division, which moved farther to the right. It is right at the foot of the west one of the twin mountains. The Johnnies shot into our ranks with impunity. They have to-day killed one and wounded three of our brigade that I know of, and more in the 1st Brigade. Dr. Morris’ brother is the only man struck in our regiment; he is not hurt much.
June 23, 1864, 9 a.m.
The Rebels opened furiously from the mountain last night about 12. Here they are firing at a division of the 14th who had advanced and were fortifying. No harm done. I failed to wake up. It is reported this morning that Ewell’s Corps has arrived to reinforce Johnston. Don’t think it will make him strong enough to assume the offensive, if true, and don’t believe it any way. Artillery commenced again half an hour since, and goes on slowly. Rebels haven’t gone, surely.
June 22, 1864.
Our Adjutant Wagstaff is out of the service and the recommendation for Frank Lermond to receive the appointment has gone on to Governor Yates. Frank is well worthy of the place and has earned it. We flatter ourselves that no regiment has less skulkers than ours in battle, and we have through the corps, a name that Fulton need not fear will disgrace her. We have all day been ready at a moment’s notice to support the 4th Corps. Saw Chandler yesterday. He is on M. L. Smith’s staff. I wish a little party of Cantonians could be here to-night to see the artillery firing. Our view of the Rebel guns is excellent. With glasses we can see them load. The artillerists say our field glasses are not so good. Many are prophesying that the Johnnies will vamoose during the “stilly night.” Much as I want to, can’t see it. Looks like too good a thing.
June 21, 1864.
No variation to report to-day. Heavy rain yesterday and to-day. Some 350 prisoners were sent in from the right yesterday, and about 80 more that I know of to-day. Figure that we have taken about 3,000 prisoners at this place. Since the army went into position here the right has advanced about six miles, the center two miles, and the left three and one-half to four miles. The musketry from dark last night until 11 p.m. was very busy in front of the 4th Corps, though it may have been only a heavy skirmish line. I hear to-day that the 4th Corps took a strong Rebel position last night while that firing was going on and held it.
Same place, front of Twin Mountains,
June 20, 1864, 11 a.m.
Rebels still on the mountain, a good deal of our artillery, a little of theirs, and not much musketry this morning. Wheeler is in our rear, but we don’t care for that. I do hope, though, that Forrest will not be allowed to come over here. We are all well and feeling fine, but wishing very much to see the level country beyond these mountains. In a “Commercial” of the 15th I see the Rebel loss in the charge of Bates’ (Rebel) division on the 27th of May was 72 killed and 350 wounded, and 56 missing. That charge was made almost altogether on our brigade, and my skirmish line did three-fourths of the damage. The 40th Alabama we captured the other day inquired for the 8th Illinois. They fought each other at Vicksburg and got well acquainted in the rifle pits. McPherson and Logan have just gone down to the front and there is talk of a fight to-day, but it is hard telling when one will have to go in. Can’t tell until the order to “commence” firing is heard. Wagstaff will be home in a few days. I would like to date my next from a new place, but Sherman and Johnston will decide that matter.
This is becoming tedious. Johnston has no regard for one’s feelings. We are all exceedingly anxious to see what is the other side of these mountains, but this abominable Johnston has no idea of letting us take a look until he is forced to. He is a good-natured fellow in some respects, too, for here we have our “flies” stretched, and our camp fires and our wagons around us in good range of his guns and not a shot does he give us. You understand that we are in reserve. Our front line is along the foot of the mountain, and we lay back about a mile. But it is all open between us and the front, and we sit in the shade, and (as we have this p.m.) see 20 Rebel guns firing on our men. Why they don’t make us get out of this is beyond me to tell. Hundreds of wagons and ambulances are parked around us, and right by us is parked the reserve artillery of our corps, all in plain view of the Rebels on the mountains, but not a gun is fired at us. Yesterday they dropped one shell a hundred yards to our right and quit, as much as to say: “We could stir you Yanks if we wanted to, but it is all right.”
I don’t know how this looks to outsiders, but it seems to me as the coolest thing of the campaign, pitching tents right under the enemy’s guns, without a particle of cover. Being under artillery fire in a fight or while supporting a battery is all right, and if we were in rifle pits or behind the crest of a hill ‘twould be ditto, but moving right out and pitching tents under the noses of Rebel 32-pounders beats me and I guess it beats them. We all feel a pride in the thing and I’d see the the Johnnies to the devil before I’d dodge the biggest cannon ball they’ve got there. The artillery this p.m. has been the heaviest I have heard this campaign.
June 19, 1864.
This is the 50th day of the campaign. Our brigade has been under musketry fire 12 days, artillery about 30. We have as a brigade fought three nice little battles, in as many days, repulsing two charges, and making one which was a perfect success. We have captured all told about 650 prisoners, and I think 1,000 a very low estimate of the number we have killed and wounded. I think Cheatham’s and Bates’ Rebel divisions will say the same. We have thus cleared ourselves with a loss to us of nearly 300, or fully one-fifth of the command. The other nine days we were on the skirmish line, in the rifle pits or front line.
This morning an order was read to pursue the enemy immediately and in ten minutes the “assembly” was sounded. The enemy had fallen back on his flanks, and maybe was intending to evacuate, for our right had swung around him further than I, if in his place, would consider healthy. But he had not yet left the Twin Mountains. The line now runs from right to left by Corps 23d, 20th, 4th, 14th, 15th, 16th, 17th. The 14th Corps lost heavily to-day, but drove the Rebels four miles. The 23d Corps was still going at last accounts. The artillery firing to-day was beautiful. Our division advanced about one-half mile only. The Twin Mountains are right in front of us, and I have seen the Rebels shooting from six batteries on the crest and sides. Our batteries on a line 600 yards in front answer them promptly.
Only one shell has burst near us, and that 100 yards to our right.
The 55th had one killed and two wounded just in front of us, by shells. All parts of the line advanced from one to five miles to-day, the right swinging forward farthest, a-la-gate. Osterhaus’ headquarters are 30 yards to our right. A solid shot from the mountain went through one of his tents yesterday. It has rained hard all day, but nobody minds it a particle. The general feeling is that the Rebels have fallen back to their main position, although they have abandoned ground that we would have held one against five. I can’t hear that any line of battle has been engaged to-day, but the force on the advance skirmish lines was probably doubled at least. You would not smile at the idea of sleeping on the ground allotted to us to-night. Mud from six to eight inches deep.
June 18, 1864.
It rained steadily until 4 p.m. and had hardly ceased a minute when our guns opened and the skirmish lines joined issue. General Harrow and Colonel Wright rode out to the left some 200 yards from the regiment and narrowly escaped a trip over the river, a shell bursting right under the nose of the general’s horse.
Near Big Shanty, Ga., June 17, 1864.
Has rained steadily all day, wetting everybody, but “drying up” all shooting. A very disagreeable day. I saw 83 Rebels come in to-day, about one-half of whom were deserters and the rest figured to get captured.
June 16, 1864.
We moved back a mile last night, being relieved by the 17th Corps. Taking it easy again to-day. There has been a lively artillery fight right in front of us to-day. Tell * * * if any of the 31st or 40th Alabama officers report at Johnston’s Island, to give them my compliments. One captain offered me his sword, but I hadn’t time to stop. We wanted that hill, then.
