Part 10

Early the morning of the twenty-second Hardee's Corps moved back to the east of Decatur, and struck McPherson's Corps on the left flank and rear, completely turning the same. The gallant general was killed at the front where he was trying to rearrange his line of battle, exposing himself to the enemy's sharpshooters. We all felt that all the brave general could have accomplished by his exposure was very poor recompense for the grand life thus sacrificed. Everything seemed to promise victory for the rebels until they had swept our line as far as the 15th Corps, when they found that Logan had changed his front to rear, and instead of there being anything like panic or confusion, they were met by a charge, led in person by that gallant general, that sent them whirling back to the place from which they started, leaving Logan in possession of the field. We were moved over to the left to the support of the 15th Corps, but were not put into the action; and I think could not have been without being mounted, such was the fury of Logan's charge. This was the third of Corporal Hood's battles before Atlanta, each one of which had resulted in defeat and great disaster. But our loss was terribly severe, as we lost one of our best corps commanders, which cast a gloom over the entire army. General James McPherson was not only loved by the army of the Tennessee, but was admired by all the men and officers that were so fortunate as to have formed his acquaintance.

The twenty-second we advanced our lines nearer the city and threw up very heavy intrenchments, and the next day strengthened them and put up a line of abatis in front. Our batteries spent their time in throwing shells into the city. I should say our skirmish line was out a mile from the ridge occupied by our works. We remained in this position for a number of days, and on the twenty-seventh moved out and marched around a hill to the left, seemingly a thousand and one times, to make the rebels believe we were moving to the left; but I guess we did not fool them much, as I never saw that anything ever came out of our demonstration.

On this position, at the left of our regiment and company, there was a battery of ten pound Rodman guns posted. These guns were rifled and were capable of throwing a shell five miles, they made us believe at least, and they spent their time throwing shells into Atlanta. Once every five minutes they dropped a shell into the city, which must have rendered it a very unpleasant place for a summer resort. The strangest thing about this whole business is, that we could lie down and go to sleep "in our little beds," and not hear those five minute guns _once_ all night long. Such is the power of habit.

At this position we received news that Sergeant Japhet Sooy had died at Chattanooga the sixteenth of July. Sergeant Sooy was one of the best of soldiers, and his great mirthfulness not only made him a great favorite with his own company, but with the entire regiment. All knew him to be brave and kind, as well as faithful and obedient. We also received word that Timothy Powers was buried at Chattanooga the twenty-eighth of July.

The news of these sad losses caused us to reflect on the condition of Company B that left Cleveland, Ohio, with one hundred strong and able- bodied men. Now twenty-five of them were under the ground, filling honorable, but many of them unknown, graves. I have not the record now before me, but I am certain that the other nine companies of this fighting regiment suffered equally as severe losses.

On the third of August the skirmish line in the front of our brigade left their pits, drove the rebel skirmish line back, and captured thirty of the Johnnies; and so persistently did our fellows hold the advanced position by them taken, that the rebels had to bring up a line of battle before they could restore their skirmish line. In this affair our regiment did not lose a man. This little action came about by our general officers thinking there were no rebels but a skirmish line in our front, and there was nothing to hinder us from going to Atlanta; but they soon found out there were plenty of those selfsame rebels between our line and the city we sought. We remained in this position a long time, doing more camp than field duty. General Sherman brought up a number of heavy siege guns from the rear and planted them to our right, and threw one hundred pounds of iron into the city at every discharge. What good this bombardment did I cannot now tell, save the destruction of a rebel city, which I have now come to regard as the right thing to do under the circumstances, and should have been commenced sooner. Somehow rebel cities seemed to suffer wherever General Sherman went, for which I entertain for his memory the profoundest respect.

While at Atlanta we lost the 9th Ind. from our brigade. Colonel Campbell had orders to report to Indianapolis for muster-out. We were sorry to part with the 9th as they were in every respect a first-class regiment, and could be always depended upon to take care of their part of the line. But they were now going home, after serving since 1861, having done their full share of service for their country.

August 26th, at about eight o'clock a. m., we commenced the movement to the right. This was the most terribly hot weather we had encountered; we marched not over eight miles, but more than half of our regiment fell out, completely overcome by the intense heat. That night our regiment was ordered on the skirmish line. The next day the regiment was ordered to move to the right, and marched about four miles. The next day the 14th Corps and its train passed us, and the general tendency of the army seemed to be to the right. The next day we struck what we called the Montgomery railroad. We destroyed about a mile of it pretty effectually. We turned the road over, built large fires, put in the rails, heated them hot, and then twisted them around trees and stumps. I have since thought of what sort of language the section-boss used, when he was sent to repair that track. I wonder if what we did that day made the confessional more expensive for him.

August 30th we moved out early, to a position near where we had been wrecking railroad; then marched in a southeasterly course to within four miles of the Macon railroad, as we called it at the time. We were offered very little resistance from the enemy, and this day we marched about ten miles. We were making the grand flank movement around Atlanta, so famous in history. On the last day of August we moved out from camp to a position on a ridge, and commenced putting up works. Plenty of enemy in our front. About eleven o'clock a. m. the rebels left their works, and we immediately started in pursuit. The 1st division took some prisoners. We struck the Macon railroad about four o'clock p. m. We saw a train pass over the road just as we came up. We selected a position and fortified it, and a detail destroyed the track. The next morning, our brigade being in the rear, we moved out late and marched down the railroad toward Jonesborough. Heavy cannonading at the front, and we learned that the regular brigade had made an assault on the enemy's position and had been repulsed; but we were also informed that General Mitchell's brigade had renewed the assault, drove the rebels from their works, captured a six gun battery and two thousand prisoners.

On the second day of September, 1864, we moved out early, marched through Jonesborough, and found the enemy in position about three miles south of town on the railroad. We formed in line of battle, and made an attack on both his flanks, but failed, for some reason, to pass beyond them. Here we learned that Atlanta had fallen and was in our possession, and the rejoicing along our line was immense. The news was soon confirmed by a circular from division headquarters, stating that the rebels had blown up two of their trains of ammunition and seven siege guns. This accounted for the noise, that sounded more like an explosion than a battle, that we had heard the night before. For some reason entirely unknown to your humble servant, General Sherman did not desire to pursue Corporal Hood any further south, and our line of battle was withdrawn. So Atlanta had fallen after a campaign of one hundred and twenty-two days. The distance from Chattanooga to Atlanta by the railroad is one hundred and thirty-eight miles, but we had marched, undoubtedly, more than that distance by a great many miles, in the flank movements we had made.

On the eighth day of September, 1864, we marched into and through the "gate city of the south." We put on all the style of which our dirty and ragged condition would permit, forming our regiments in column by company, with our bands playing and colors flying. We marched down Marietta street, and the few citizens we saw did not lay themselves out to give us a cordial welcome. This street was the nearest _ruins_ of anything west of the Atlantic. We saw one large sign that I suppose the visitor could hardly find in the new Atlanta. It extended the entire front of a block and read: "Slaves At Auction." We marched three miles east of town and went into camp, and the Atlanta campaign was ended.

I have tried to give you, though very imperfectly, my recollections of this, the greatest campaign ever made on the western continent. To the general hearer it would have been more interesting, without doubt, to have given the outlines of the campaign, omitting the details of each day's movements with their dates; but as many of that old fighting regiment (of which I had the honor of being a member) are still alive, I thought it my duty to place upon record a detailed account of their sufferings and triumphs. General Sherman had, indeed, broken the shell of the confederacy; but I must say (and I think my comrades will agree with me) it was, by all odds, the _toughest shell_ we ever helped to crack.

For more than one hundred days, of the one hundred and twenty-two days of the Atlanta campaign, we had been under fire. The graves of our dear dead comrades are scattered thickly from Dalton to Jonesborough.

The red earth of our intrenchments marks the hillsides and beautiful mountains of northern and central Georgia.

The campaign was the severest blow the rebellion had received up to that time, and from Atlanta, General Sherman commenced his grand march to the sea.

FROM ATLANTA TO NASHVILLE.

The campaign of Atlanta practically closed with the abandonment of the city by the rebels, September 2d, 1864. The confederate forces still occupied a position near Jonesborough, about thirty miles south of Atlanta. The campaign had ended by the federal forces arriving at a certain geographical point. The confederate forces, although somewhat shattered and reduced by the battles dating from Peach Tree creek forward, were still intact. The rebel forces were still in command of Hood; and with him were some able fighting officers, in the persons of Cleburne, Hill, Hardee, Adams and others.

On our arrival at Atlanta, General Sherman immediately commenced preparations for the grand march to the sea. It was at once evident that he intended to abandon his line of communications, for he commenced to build a fort large enough for the garrison he intended to leave at Atlanta. This fort he built substantially in the heart of the city, and destroyed the balance because in the way of the fort. So when General Sherman took up his world-renowned march for the seaboard, but very little of the "gate city of the south" remained standing. While these preparations were going forward the 124th regiment was in camp about three miles southeast of Atlanta, busy in cleaning up, drawing new clothing, and recuperating from the effects of the arduous campaign just closed. We had not been in camp many days before we were astonished by the news that the Sanitary Commission, a patriotic organization of the loyal citizens of the north (whose ramifications penetrated to every city, village, hamlet and farm of the loyal states), had sent us a train load of Irish potatoes. This may seem a small matter to take note of after so many years and read to you, who in all your lives have never know the want of anything to eat your appetites might crave, but what do you say of a lot of men that from January 1st, 1863, to September, 1864, had not feasted, even their eyes, on a potato? If you could, at your home, surrounded with all the delicacies of the culinary art, be deprived of the common potato for eighteen months, you could then appreciate our situation. The cheers and shouting that went up, mid- afternoon, when the commissary department sent word to the regiments it had potatoes to issue, were enough to make one think the news of some great victory had been communicated to us. And when the stream of potatoes began to be diverted and divided to the companies and messes, it was too comical for anything, those great bronzed and weather-beaten soldiers, running around with their hands full of potatoes, and to see the fires lighted at that time of day, and the little kettles, or pails rather, filled and put on brimming full of potatoes; then when cooled to see the feasting—potatoes served with salt. I suppose you would demand nice Jersey butter, but salt was good enough for us. And this is not all I have to say of that commission organized from the loyal citizens of the north. It brought us by the car load, pickled cabbage and onions; and how refreshing they were to us that had not tasted vegetable food for eighteen long months. I do not believe there is an old veteran alive to-day that does not bless from the bottom of his heart, that greatest and most magnificent of charities ever organized—the Sanitary Commission.

We had stayed in camp, as I said, while General Sherman was preparing for his march to the sea; busy each day with drilling, foraging for corn, and all the many things necessary to keep companies and regiments in good shape, as per the army regulations. We had hoped, as had each regiment of the Army of the Cumberland, that it would be our good fortune to go with Sherman on his march south, and it was with not a little chagrin and heartburning that we were not called, neither chosen, to go on that march, that has been the wonder and admiration of the military critics of all nations.

It had been determined by General Sherman that our corps (the 4th), commanded by General Stanley, and the 23d Corps, commanded by General Schofield—these two corps, and all other organizations of troops between Atlanta and Nashville, to be in command of General George H. Thomas. Howard was placed in command of the army of the Tennessee, whereby we lost the services of General Hooker. The remainder of the army (save the brigade of regulars, that were sent back to the top of Lookout mountain where they would be out of danger) was chosen by General Sherman to make the march to the sea. But you must not suppose that this choice was made by reason of any superiority of that portion of the army that went with him. It had turned out that Corporal Hood had made up his mind that if Sherman could cut away from his base of supplies, and march south into the enemy's country, he (Hood) ought to be able to march north, among his dearly beloved friends; and if Sherman struck a heavy blow south, he would get in his counter up north. And with the 23d and 4th Corps only, left by Sherman, Hood had two men to Thomas' one.

But before passing to the details of the campaign upon which we were about to enter, suffer me to remark that the same painstaking preparation by General Sherman that I referred to in the "Atlanta Campaign," was going forward. The most rigid surgical examination was had in every company of every man whose health was suspected, or where there could be anything found that incapacitated him from performing the supposed arduous duties to be imposed upon him. All that could not stand this rigid test were sent north. Would you not suppose that many would have taken advantage of this examination to have gotten rid of a campaign that seemed fraught with dangers, and so difficult of execution? On the contrary, I am informed by high authority that those that were rejected felt themselves grossly insulted and degraded as soldiers. Neither was this crucial examination confined to the men—the animals were carefully inspected, and all those not perfectly sound were sent to the rear, or disposed of in some other way. The same of arms and accouterments; so that when General Sherman turned his face toward the salt sea breezes of the Atlantic, he had under his command as hardy, as healthy, as determined, and as brave an army of veterans as ever caused the earth to tremble under their tread.

It now seemed that Hood wanted a little more of the smell of our powder before he took his little excursion to the mountains of Tennessee, for we heard he was in force north of Marietta, and was threatening one of our fortified positions at Altoona Pass, that Sherman had used as a sub- base of supplies during the Atlanta campaign. So October 3d, 1864, we broke up camp and marched to within five miles of Marietta, and camped in the rebel works that had been constructed by them, first, after leaving their position at Kennesaw mountain. This was good marching, having started from our camp, three miles east of Atlanta, at four o'clock p. m.

The fourth, we struck tents at noon and marched through Marietta to the front of Kennesaw, and again found the rebel works convenient. Plenty of rebels reported at Big Shanty, a short distance north. This two days' marching shows how much easier to retrograde than to advance, in the face of the enemy. It had taken us to go from Kennesaw mountain to Atlanta, from July 22d to September 2d, and we had returned in a part of two days. The fifth we moved out of our camp and marched north to Piny Knob, and formed in line of battle along the base of the mountain. Sherman had a signal corps or station on the top of this mountain. Some of us went up to the station, and we could distinctly see Altoona Pass, and see the smoke of the battle in progress there, as well as watch the advancing columns General Sherman was sending forward for the relief of General Corse, who was gallantly defending the works there, against overpowering numbers of the enemy. It was here, from this mountain top, that General Sherman signaled to General Corse "Hold the fort for I am coming," that some one has immortalized in sacred song. Several of the old 124th stood not twenty feet from the old general, when this famous dispatch was being signaled from the top of Piny Knob to the gallant Corse, who at that time was suffering from a dangerous wound he received while in the defense he was making. But Hood, evidently, did not care to fight on equal terms, and withdrew in the direction of Lost mountain, and afterwards moved in the direction of Rome, Ga.; and Sherman, leaving Old Pap Thomas to look after and care for Corporal Hood, turned his face toward the south, and that was the last day of the war we ever saw our beloved Uncle Billy. It was with a feeling of sadness that we saw him depart, for we had learned to love and trust in him as we had no other commander. We marched north through Altoona Pass, which still showed evidences of the sanguinary conflict that had taken place there. We marched all night after we went through the Pass, sleeping fifteen minutes each hour. It was perfectly surprising to see how quickly the regiment would go to sleep when the halt was sounded. When the assembly call came it was some trouble to wake the tired soldiers, but usually we were soon all in line, and marching on for another hour. The next day we marched all day long, after halting, making coffee, and taking breakfast near the Etowah river. On this march I first discovered the fact that it was possible for one to march and be sound asleep, for on waking up I discovered that no portion of the landscape had a familiar look, showing that one had been asleep long enough for the landscape to entirely change by our moving forward. This marching back on the railroad track was very hard, as the road was not in very good shape, and we were in danger of falling through trestles; and during the night, every now and then, some sleepy soldier would get off his guard, and his head would go down on the rail, making everything jingle. All the sympathy such unfortunates received would be the shouts and jeers of his comrades to which he often replied in language _just bordering on the profane_. This marching did not differ much from day to day, and on the fifteenth day of October we crossed the Rocky Face mountains. We went out over the Chickamauga battlefield and saw very many of the bones of our unknown comrades still unburied, that had fallen there more than a year before.

What strange feelings come over one as he passes over the field where he fought, and his loved comrades fell. It seems as though they were with him again in all of their manly beauty; he can see their stern looks of defiance; can hear the rattle of the musketry, the thunder of the artillery, the shouts of victory, the thud of the fatal minie, the dying groan, the last good-bye; and the specter battle seems as real as when engaged in the deadly conflict of the year before. The timber was badly torn down by the shot and shells on that portion of the field over which we passed. I remember the last day our Colonel Payne was with us. The regiment was marching left in front that day, and of course that brought my company next to the colonel and his staff. We made a halt near Rossville, and laid down on the grass to rest. It was a beautiful Indian summer evening; and while in conversation with the colonel he informed me he intended to leave the regiment at Chattanooga; "thought he had done his part," which was true, having nearly lost his life from a wound he received at Chickamauga. I was surprised to learn of his intention to leave us, as this was the first intimation that I had of his intention to resign; but what surprised me most was the despairing view he seemed to take of the war. He said to me, "We never can conquer the south, and if we do children yet unborn will fight in this war." I replied: "They would have to muster them in pretty young, if they did, and I expect to see the end of the rebellion the next year." I think it must have been the depressing effect of our retrograde movement that had taken such a hold on our brave young colonel, for it did seem to many that all our arduous campaign to Atlanta had been for naught.

Many thought it presumptuous in General Sherman to leave a large rebel army to be opposed by an army of about half its numbers. But General Sherman knew him that was in command of the rebel army, and knew very well the grand old Virginian he had intrusted with the taking care of him. We went into camp around Chattanooga, the place that had been the scene of so much of sorrow and rejoicing the year before. We soon heard that Hood was marching for the Tennessee river about Decatur, and we were put into and on freight cars, and started in the night for that point.

A large part of my company was on the top of the cars, and many of them went to sleep in that dangerous situation and caused me very much anxiety. Many a time during that night of peril I found a comrade just on the edge of the car, liable to fall off with any little jolt. I never remember passing a more perilous night. The next day we "came off the roof" of the cars, and soon commenced the march northward for Pulaski.