Memoirs of General William T. Sherman — Complete
mules to each, and six hundred ambulances, with two horses to each.
The loads were made comparatively light, about twenty-five hundred
pounds net; each wagon carrying in addition the forage needed by
its own team: Each soldier carried on his person forty rounds of
ammunition, and in the wagons were enough cartridges to make up
about two hundred rounds per man, and in like manner two hundred
rounds of assorted ammunition were carried for each gun.
The wagon-trains were divided equally between the four corps, so
that each had about eight hundred wagons, and these usually on the
march occupied five miles or more of road. Each corps commander
managed his own train; and habitually the artillery and wagons had
the road, while the men, with the exception of the advance and rear
guards, pursued paths improvised by the aide of the wagons, unless
they were forced to use a bridge or causeway in common.
I reached Atlanta during the afternoon of the 14th, and found that
all preparations had been made-Colonel Beckwith, chief commissary,
reporting one million two hundred thousand rations in possession of
the troops, which was about twenty days' supply, and he had on hand
a good supply of beef-cattle to be driven along on the hoof. Of
forage, the supply was limited, being of oats and corn enough for
five days, but I knew that within that time we would reach a
country well stocked with corn, which had been gathered and stored
in cribs, seemingly for our use, by Governor Brown's militia.
Colonel Poe, United States Engineers, of my staff, had been busy in
his special task of destruction. He had a large force at work, had
leveled the great depot, round house, and the machine-shops of the
Georgia Railroad, and had applied fire to the wreck. One of these
machine-shops had been used by the rebels as an arsenal, and in it
were stored piles of shot and shell, some of which proved to be
loaded, and that night was made hideous by the bursting of shells,
whose fragments came uncomfortably, near Judge Lyon's house, in
which I was quartered. The fire also reached the block of stores
near the depot, and the heart of the city was in flames all night,
but the fire did not reach the parts of Atlanta where the
court-house was, or the great mass of dwelling houses.
The march from Atlanta began on the morning of November 15th, the
right wing and cavalry following the railroad southeast toward
Jonesboro', and General Slocum with the Twentieth Corps leading off
to the east by Decatur and Stone Mountain, toward Madison. These
were divergent lines, designed to threaten both Mason and Augusta
at the same time, so as to prevent a concentration at our intended
destination, or "objective," Milledgeville, the capital of Georgia,
distant southeast about one hundred miles. The time allowed each
column for reaching Milledgeville was seven days. I remained in
Atlanta during the 15th with the Fourteenth Corps, and the
rear-guard of the right wing, to complete the loading of the trains,
and the destruction of the buildings of Atlanta which could be
converted to hostile uses, and on the morning of the 16th started
with my personal staff, a company of Alabama cavalry, commanded by
Lieutenant Snelling, and an infantry company, commanded by Lieutenant
McCrory, which guarded our small train of wagons.
My staff was then composed of Major L. M. Dayton, aide-de-camp and
acting adjutant-general, Major J. C. McCoy, and Major J. C.
Audenried, aides. Major Ward Nichols had joined some weeks before
at Gaylesville, Alabama, and was attached as an acting
aide-de-camp. Also Major Henry Hitchcock had joined at the same
time as judge-advocate. Colonel Charles Ewing was
inspector-general, and Surgeon John Moore medical director. These
constituted our mess. We had no tents, only the flies, with which
we nightly made bivouacs with the assistance of the abundant
pine-boughs, which made excellent shelter, as well as beds.
Colonel L. C. Easton was chief-quartermaster; Colonel Amos
Beckwith, chief-commissary; Colonel O. M. Poe, chief-engineer; and
Colonel T. G. Baylor, chief of ordnance. These invariably rode
with us during the day, but they had a separate camp and mess at
night.
General William F. Barry had been chief of artillery in the
previous campaign, but at Kingston his face was so swollen with
erysipelas that he was reluctantly compelled to leave us for the
rear; and he could not, on recovering, rejoin us till we had
reached Savannah.
About 7 A.M. of November 16th we rode out of Atlanta by the Decatur
road, filled by the marching troops and wagons of the Fourteenth
Corps; and reaching the hill, just outside of the old rebel works,
we naturally paused to look back upon the scenes of our past
battles. We stood upon the very ground whereon was fought the
bloody battle of July 22d, and could see the copse of wood where
McPherson fell. Behind us lay Atlanta, smouldering and in ruins,
the black smoke rising high in air, and hanging like a pall over
the ruined city. Away off in the distance, on the McDonough road,
was the rear of Howard's column, the gun-barrels glistening in the
sun, the white-topped wagons stretching away to the south; and
right before us the Fourteenth Corps, marching steadily and
rapidly, with a cheery look and swinging pace, that made light of
the thousand miles that lay between us and Richmond. Some band, by
accident, struck up the anthem of "John Brown's soul goes marching
on;" the men caught up the strain, and never before or since have I
heard the chorus of "Glory, glory, hallelujah!" done with more
spirit, or in better harmony of time and place.
Then we turned our horses' heads to the east; Atlanta was soon lost
behind the screen of trees, and became a thing of the past. Around
it clings many a thought of desperate battle, of hope and fear,
that now seem like the memory of a dream; and I have never seen the
place since. The day was extremely beautiful, clear sunlight, with
bracing air, and an unusual feeling of exhilaration seemed to
pervade all minds--a feeling of something to come, vague and
undefined, still full of venture and intense interest. Even the
common soldiers caught the inspiration, and many a group called out
to me as I worked my way past them, "Uncle Billy, I guess Grant is
waiting for us at Richmond!" Indeed, the general sentiment was
that we were marching for Richmond, and that there we should end
the war, but how and when they seemed to care not; nor did they
measure the distance, or count the cost in life, or bother their
brains about the great rivers to be crossed, and the food required
for man and beast, that had to be gathered by the way. There was a
"devil-may-care" feeling pervading officers and men, that made me
feel the full load of responsibility, for success would be accepted
as a matter of course, whereas, should we fail, this "march" would
be adjudged the wild adventure of a crazy fool. I had no purpose
to march direct for Richmond by way of Augusta and Charlotte, but
always designed to reach the sea-coast first at Savannah or Port
Royal, South Carolina, and even kept in mind the alternative of
Pensacola.
The first night out we camped by the road-side near Lithonia.
Stone Mountain, a mass of granite, was in plain view, cut out in
clear outline against the blue sky; the whole horizon was lurid
with the bonfires of rail-ties, and groups of men all night were
carrying the heated rails to the nearest trees, and bending them
around the trunks. Colonel Poe had provided tools for ripping up
the rails and twisting them when hot; but the best and easiest way
is the one I have described, of heating the middle of the
iron-rails on bonfires made of the cross-ties, and then winding
them around a telegraph-pole or the trunk of some convenient
sapling. I attached much importance to this destruction of the
railroad, gave it my own personal attention, and made reiterated
orders to others on the subject.
The next day we passed through the handsome town of Covington, the
soldiers closing up their ranks, the color-bearers unfurling their
flags, and the bands striking up patriotic airs. The white people
came out of their houses to behold the sight, spite of their deep
hatred of the invaders, and the negroes were simply frantic with
joy. Whenever they heard my name, they clustered about my horse,
shouted and prayed in their peculiar style, which had a natural
eloquence that would have moved a stone. I have witnessed
hundreds, if not thousands, of such scenes; and can now see a poor
girl, in the very ecstasy of the Methodist "shout," hugging the
banner of one of the regiments, and jumping up to the "feet of
Jesus."
I remember, when riding around by a by-street in Covington, to
avoid the crowd that followed the marching column, that some one
brought me an invitation to dine with a sister of Sam. Anderson,
who was a cadet at West Point with me; but the messenger reached me
after we had passed the main part of the town. I asked to be
excused, and rode on to a place designated for camp, at the
crossing of the Ulcofauhachee River, about four miles to the east
of the town. Here we made our bivouac, and I walked up to a
plantation-house close by, where were assembled many negroes, among
them an old, gray-haired man, of as fine a head as I ever saw. I
asked him if he understood about the war and its progress. He said
he did; that he had been looking for the "angel of the Lord" ever
since he was knee-high, and, though we professed to be fighting for
the Union, he supposed that slavery was the cause, and that our
success was to be his freedom. I asked him if all the negro slaves
comprehended this fact, and he said they surely did. I then
explained to him that we wanted the slaves to remain where they
were, and not to load us down with useless mouths, which would eat
up the food needed for our fighting men; that our success was their
assured freedom; that we could receive a few of their young, hearty
men as pioneers; but that, if they followed us in swarms of old and
young, feeble and helpless, it would simply load us down and
cripple us in our great task. I think Major Henry Hitchcock was
with me on that occasion, and made a note of the conversation, and
I believe that old man spread this message to the slaves, which was
carried from mouth to mouth, to the very end of our journey, and
that it in part saved us from the great danger we incurred of
swelling our numbers so that famine would have attended our
progress. It was at this very plantation that a soldier passed me
with a ham on his musket, a jug of sorghum-molasses under his arm,
and a big piece of honey in his hand, from which he was eating,
and, catching my eye, he remarked sotto voce and carelessly to a
comrade, "Forage liberally on the country," quoting from my general
orders. On this occasion, as on many others that fell under my
personal observation, I reproved the man, explained that foraging
must be limited to the regular parties properly detailed, and that
all provisions thus obtained must be delivered to the regular
commissaries, to be fairly distributed to the men who kept their
ranks.
From Covington the Fourteenth Corps (Davis's), with which I was
traveling, turned to the right for Milledgeville, via Shady Dale.
General Slocum was ahead at Madison, with the Twentieth Corps,
having torn up the railroad as far as that place, and thence had
sent Geary's division on to the Oconee, to burn the bridges across
that stream, when this corps turned south by Eatonton, for
Milledgeville, the common "objective" for the first stage of the
"march." We found abundance of corn, molasses, meal, bacon, and
sweet-potatoes. We also took a good many cows and oxen, and a