In December a general order was issued from the War Department, providing for the reënlistment of veteran regiments. It provided for a liberalbounty for all who reënlisted as veterans after two years' service; but it offered what was a greater temptation than anything else, the chance to go home for thirty days as a regiment, with the opportunity to recruit up to the full standard. I explained to my Company all the advantages of this arrangement. Their term of service would not expire until the end of June. By that time the fighting would probably be well over with. By reënlisting now they would secure the bounty, the thirty days furlough, and the honorable record of veteran soldiers, and it would be possible to preserve our organization from the beginning to the end of the war.
Just about this time I was called away from camp to Tullahoma, to sit on the court martial of Colonel E. L. Price of the One Hundred Forty-Fifth New York Regiment, on charges of misbehaviour in battle. When the court adjourned over the Christmas holidays and I returned to my Regiment, I was informed by my First Sergeant that the men of my Company had been talking over the matter of reënlisting, and that more than three-fourths of them were ready to do so if I wouldstay with them. The contagion spread. By Christmas all but two of the officers, and 240 out of 300 enlisted men present with the Regiment, had, in the language of the day, "veteranized."
On Christmas this surviving remnant of the thousand men of the Third, who had so gayly left the State two-and-a-half years before, started on their return. It was a beautiful day, and for us one of perfect happiness. We were going home with a record that none could surpass and few commands could equal. We were the first regiment from Wisconsin, and I believe the first in the army, to reënlist.
At Madison the arms were stored, and the men scattered to their homes to enjoy their thirty-days' furlough. I was just in time to take part in a New Year's dance, and go home in the morning on the coldest day ever known in Wisconsin.
The month of January, 1864, which we spent in Wisconsin, was a season of continuous festivities. The only drawback was the extreme cold, which to us who had just come from the South, seemed more severe than it had ever been before. Everyone seemed to be determined to givethe returned soldiers the best time of their lives. Some of the croakers thought it too gay for people who were engaged in a death struggle for the life of the Nation. Those of us, however, who had been at the front, were disposed to be merry while we could, and leave the future to care for itself. Recruiting was going on all the time. Our veterans proved the best recruiting officers in the State. They brought in their brothers and cousins, schoolmates and friends, so that when we were ready to return once more to the south, we had added 300 men to our rolls, picked from the very flower of Wisconsin's citizenry.
On February 2 the veterans of the Regiment assembled at Madison. On the 4th we were again on our way south, and reached Tullahoma the night of the 9th. On the 12th we started out for Fayetteville, the seat of Lincoln County, Tennessee, where we arrived at noon on the following day. On our way we passed through Lynchburg, where there was pointed out to us the house, or rather the ruins of the house, which was said to have been the birthplace of Davy Crockett. At Mulberry, a little farther on, I met a middle-aged citizen whosaid that he had never known what a United States flag looked like until he had seen one carried by our soldiers in this war.
Lincoln County was one of the richest, as well as the most violent of Secession counties in Tennessee. Its people boasted that it had cast 2,500 votes for Secession, and not one for the Union; the few Union men in the county had not dared to go to the polls. A few months previous to our coming a small detachment of Northern troops had been captured there by guerrillas. The prisoners had been taken to the bank of the Elk River and three of them deliberately murdered. A fourth had only escaped by leaping into the river and swimming off in the confusion. When he had reported the matter to headquarters, Colonel Ketcham of the One Hundred Fiftieth New York had been sent to collect an assessment of $30,000 from the citizens of the county for the benefit of the families of the murdered soldiers.
Our mission in Lincoln County was to hunt down the guerrillas who infested it, and to care forthe refugees from Chattanooga and other places in the rear of the army, who had lost their means of gaining a livelihood. We supported the refugees by forced levies of corn and bacon from the wealthy planters of the vicinity, while our mounted force soon disposed of the guerrillas, capturing a number and frightening the rest out of the county. We had a novel way of administering justice. For instance, about two months after our arrival a number of these young offenders, whose parents lived in the vicinity and were substantial farmers, stole from a citizen mules valued at $400. The Colonel immediately assessed the amount on the fathers, and with the money thus collected paid for the mules. That was our policy all through—to make the wealthy Confederates pay for the damage done by their lawless colleagues. And this method had a good effect, for it soon put an end to the thievery.
Shortly after we arrived, our mounted men captured a Confederate officer named Boone, a grandson of the famous Daniel. On him was found a list of all the guerrillas in the county. When I examined him, he told me that he had been sent tomuster these fellows into the Confederate army; but his plans were spoiled. Instead he went to Johnson's Island, a prisoner, and his little memorandum book remained in my possession.
Among the names on the list were those of two Miller boys, whose mother and sister lived in town. The Captain of our mounted men, and several other officers, boarded with the family, for the people in Fayetteville were usually glad to take in Union officers as boarders, in order that they might secure from our rations the otherwise unobtainable luxuries of sugar and coffee. Several days after the capture of Boone's list, the Captain brought in both of the young Millers as prisoners. They were forwarded to Corps headquarters at Tullahoma. The elder, instead of being sent North as a prisoner of war, was tried by court martial and sentenced to be hanged in the public square of Fayetteville. That did not suit some of us; so we found means to send Mrs. Miller to Shelbyville, where she secured Judge Cooper, a well-known Unionist and former member of Congress, to go to Washington, and lay the case before President Lincoln. It was well knownthat no death sentence was ever executed with the President's consent, if there was any reasonable excuse for avoiding it. His usual magnanimity did not fail in this case, and the boy was sent North as an ordinary prisoner of war.
When the President's amnesty proclamation was issued, we were given the duty of reorganizing Lincoln County under its provisions. I was appointed provost marshal, and in that position administered oaths of allegiance to several thousand repentant and unrepentant Secessionists. When the election was held, returns were made to me, and by me tabulated, and sent to the military governor at Nashville. Commissions were then issued by him to the officials who had been elected, so that when we left, the county was ready to resume civil government.
In administering the oath of allegiance, the demand for blanks was so great that the ordinary sources could not furnish a sufficient supply. It was necessary, therefore, for me to open a printing office. So I took possession of an old printing establishment, and set several men to work. The press was broken down and the type badly "pi'd";but we soon had the machinery repaired, and by combining the stock of three printing offices, secured sufficient type to run our establishment with success.
In addition to these other duties, I had to listen to everyone in the county who sought redress for a grievance of any kind. Some had had horses taken by our army, or by bushwhackers; some had been robbed of money or other valuables; some wanted permits to carry firearms, which were of course never granted; and others needed assistance from the Government to keep from starving. One man came with a case parallel to that of the woman who wanted a "pass to raise geese." He wanted a "pass to raise a crup." I told him to go on and raise his crop, or do whatever he pleased, so long as he remained loyal to the Government. He said his neighbors had told him he could not raise a crop without a permit from the Federals, and that every man who took the oath of allegiance was branded in the forehead with the letters "U. S."
One day a woman came to me, who said she had heard that we paid $10,000 to the widows ofmen killed by guerrillas. I explained to her that we had done that only for the widows of three Union soldiers. I told her, however, that if she could give me any information about where the guerrillas could be found, we would capture and punish them. She said she did not know, but that she had heard some shots in the woods. She had not seen her man since, and she was sure they had killed him. After parleying awhile she started out of the door. But before she went out, she turned and called back to me, "That ai'nt the wust of 't; they stole my old mare, too!"
When we first arrived at Fayetteville not a person was to be seen on the streets, although before the war it had been a place of 2,000 inhabitants. There was not a vestige of any kind of business left in the town. Even the stores and taverns were vacant. The people soon made their appearance, however, when they found that we had come to stay, and before very long we had established the most friendly relations with them. By the time we were ready to leave, almost every family in town had its friends among the soldiers. They were very sociable, and always seemed glad to have theFederal officers call on them. The young ladies would sing and play the piano beautifully, and make things quite homelike for us after the routine of the day's work. Twenty years later, while passing through Fayetteville on my way to Atlanta, I received courtesies from a citizen who only knew me by reputation as one of the officers of the Third Wisconsin.
It was curious to see what a difference slavery had made in the social life of these people. Everywhere work was considered disgraceful for a white man, and as only the occupation of the "nigger." In order to succeed socially, it was necessary to own slaves. The idea of hiring labor, or of being rich without negroes, was apparently incomprehensible. And in fact it was true that all of the people who had obtained any sort of success, intellectually or otherwise, had owned slaves.
Most of the men who resided in the vicinity had served in the Confederate army. Some had been discharged on account of wounds or sickness, while others, and probably most of them, had deserted when they became sure that the fight was hopeless.
My office was a common resort for these people after they had taken the oath of amnesty. They would sit around by the hour, and spin their yarns about the Confederate service. The recent deserters had to be sent to headquarters at Tullahoma for examination; and as we could communicate only with a strong escort, I would sometimes have half a dozen of them paroled to report to me daily until I could arrange to send on a party.
In all my dealings with these people, I found scarcely any who really desired the success of the Union cause. There were plenty of them, probably the majority, who thought the Confederacy a failure, and wished to get back into the Union on the best possible terms; but they still clung to their old ideas. However, that did not interfere with our friendship and the good time that we had while we were there. And when the day at length came when we were obliged to leave, I think that they really were, as they professed to be, sorry at our going. And well they might be, for the regiment of Tennessee Union Cavalry, that occupied the town after we left, proceeded at once to kill several of the most prominent men who hadnot taken the amnesty oath, and at least one who had.
On the morning of April 28, 1864, we said farewell to our Fayetteville friends and started out on the campaign which a year later was to end at Raleigh, North Carolina, with the surrender of Johnston's army and the end of the war. With us was a company of Tennessee Union Cavalry, commanded by Captain Brixey, which had been sent to Lincoln County to hunt bushwhackers. On leaving Fayetteville they had taken a horse belonging to Judge Chilcote, a prominent citizen, who had been of much assistance to me in the provost marshal's office in restoring civil government, and who had at the election been chosen county clerk. The Judge followed us, and asked to have his horse restored. Colonel Hawley of our Regiment at once compelled Captain Brixey to give it up. He did so with apparent reluctance, and then secretly sent a number of his men over a by-road to intercept the Judge on his return and kill him. This cowardly deed accomplished, the men rejoined their command. Brixey then pushed on ahead to Tullahoma, and on the next day leftfor the mountains of East Tennessee. The murder was reported to us that night. The Colonel sent back Captain Gardner with his mounted men to investigate, but the murderers had fled as soon as their deed became known, and nothing more could be done. After this outrage, Brixey never dared to rejoin our army. Some time later he was killed by Confederates in northwestern Georgia.
During our stay at Fayetteville our Corps and the old Eleventh of the Army of the Potomac were consolidated, and became known as the Twentieth Corps of the Army of the Cumberland. The command was given to General Hooker. Our portion of the army would very much have preferred General H. W. Slocum, who was sent to Vicksburg. In the reorganization we became the Second Brigade of the First Division, with General Thomas H. Ruger commanding the Brigade and General A. S. Williams commanding the Division. At the suggestion of the officers of the Eleventh Corps, our old badge, the five-pointed star, was retained as the badge of the new corps.
Our Regiment reached Tullahoma on April 30, to find that the rest of our Brigade had already gone to the front. We started out on the next day to join them, and on May 4 crossed the Tennessee River at Bridgeport. On the 7th we passed over the battle-field of Chickamauga, where signs of the conflict were still everywhere in evidence. On the night of the 8th we crossed the mountains by way of Nickajack Pass, and joined our Brigade at daylight the next morning. This passage over the mountains was interesting. The night was extremely dark and perfectly quiet. The men in charge of the wagon train had placed lighted candles on the rocks along the road, at intervals of about a hundred feet, in order to guide themselves and those who came after. These were still flickering when we came along.
Our march to Atlanta was now well under way. The enemy continually fell back, and in most cases without offering serious resistance. The three armies of General Sherman, marching in parallel lines, seemed to be able to carry everythingbefore them. On the 10th we again crossed the mountains at Snake Creek Gap, going into camp on the other side until the 13th. On the night of the 10th we were visited by a tremendous wind and rain storm, which blew down our tents, and raised the water in the creek so high that we had to move our camp or be drowned. At about this time, also, an order was read to the troops announcing the great success of the Army of the Potomac in the opening battles of the final campaign against Richmond.
On the 14th we were moved to the extreme left to support General Howard, who was there engaged with the enemy. We arrived at about sundown, just as the Confederates were driving in a brigade of the Fourth Corps and threatening to capture a battery of artillery. As we moved forward in line of battle, ready to receive the advancing enemy, General Williams called out to the fleeing soldiers of the Fourth Corps to get back out of the way, for he had a division there from the Army of the Potomac that would protect them. All of which goes to show that even major-generals are human, and when they get a chance liketo exult over their rivals. We checked the advance of the enemy without much trouble.
At about noon on the 15th, General Butterfield, with our Third Division, moved forward to attack an earthwork and a four-gun battery, which the enemy held in his front. We moved forward on the left to support him; and encountering little opposition at first, advanced somewhat farther than the Third Division. We took position in the edge of a woods, where we made use of a rail fence and some logs to build a breastwork in anticipation of an attack, which the skirmish firing in front warned us was coming. We soon had sight of the advancing enemy. A few volleys from us, however, and they broke and ran. In a short time they again came up, with a new line. We disposed of that almost as quickly as the first. A third time they repeated the attempt, and again we beat them back.
Now came the order to pursue. My Company, and the companies on my right, moved forward about two hundred yards in the woods. Suddenly we found that we were on the flank of a Brigade that was still stubbornly fighting withtroops of the Twenty-Third Corps and the left companies of our Regiment. They were in a peach orchard, the nearest of them not fifty yards away. I hastily wheeled my Company, and Company H to the left, and opened fire. At such short range, and in such a crowd, every shot must have counted. The Confederates did not wait for much, but skedaddled as fast as their legs could carry them.
Just as the last of them were disappearing from sight, I saw a man in Confederate uniform come running toward my Company, hatless, but with gun in hand. I supposed that he was coming in to give himself up. He came within twenty yards of us, then apparently noticed for the first time that we were Yankees. He immediately started to run back. I called to him to surrender, but it only increased his speed. Finding that he did not stop, two of my men fired at him, and both hit him. He fell dead almost instantly upon the field. I went forward then and examined him. He was a mere boy, not over twenty years of age. In his pocket we found his order, not two weeks old, from the conscript officer of his district, notifyinghim to join the army. I have seen fields of battle in front of our Regiment, covered over with the dead, without experiencing the pang of regret that I felt for this poor lad who, scarcely out from home, and too frightened and confused to know what to do, thus sadly met his fate.
The loss of our Regiment in this fight was one killed and thirty-one wounded. Many of the wounded subsequently died, among them Reverend John M. Springer, the Chaplain of the Regiment. When drafted in 1863, he had been a Methodist minister in Monroe, Wisconsin. Believing this to be a call of duty he had refused to allow his church to secure a substitute, and had reported at Madison for service. When our Regiment was about to leave Wisconsin for the front, after the veteran furlough, we officers had been introduced to him in the Executive Chamber at the Capitol, where we had assembled on the invitation of the Governor. When sent for, Springer had been found doing sentinel duty before the gate of Camp Randall. We had elected him Chaplain, and he had joined us at Fayetteville as soon as he could secure his discharge as a private. On themorning of the battle, when the prospects seemed good for a lively fight, he had come to me and asked for a musket and some ammunition, for he did not wish to be lurking in the rear while we were in danger at the front. At my suggestion, he had previously posted himself in the tactics, so I now told him to take the place of a Lieutenant in my Company. He was the first man hit, and died in the hospital a few days later.
By a strange coincidence, our picket found on the field in our front the dead body of the Chaplain of the Georgia Regiment with which we had been engaged. We were told by some of the wounded prisoners that he had been shot in coming up to recover the body of his son, a captain in the Regiment, who had been killed early in the fight.
In this battle, for the first time in my experience, Confederate soldiers who might have escaped came in and gave themselves up as prisoners. I think as many as forty did this. They were all thoroughly discouraged, and the same feeling seems to have run through their whole army, for they were more quickly and easily beaten than I had ever seen them before.
It was understood on our part that in order to give the Army of the Tennessee time to get below Resaca and cut off their retreat, we were not to push the attack against the enemy. They were too quick for us, however; the next morning they had abandoned Resaca, leaving behind them six heavy guns and large quantities of provisions and ammunition.
On the 19th we came up to them again at Cassville, where we drove them into their entrenched lines and occupied the town. We expected a fight in the morning, but once more they were gone, this time across the Etowah River. After a rest of four days at Cassville, we again went forward, crossing the Etowah on a pontoon bridge without resistance.
On the 25th we had nearly reached Dallas when we were turned back to assist General Geary, who had encountered a division of Hood's Corps, entrenched on the Marietta road to our left, at a place called New Hope Church. On our arrival we found that Geary's Division had already pushed back the enemy's skirmishers until the latter were thought to be in their main line ofworks, from which position we were ordered to drive them. The country was heavily timbered, and underbrush so obscured the view that it was impossible to see in any direction more than a few rods. When we came within sight of the enemy we found that a six-gun battery was posted a little in front of their line of infantry. The latter awaited us behind a breastwork, evidently hastily constructed of logs and earth, nevertheless affording fairly good shelter. As soon as we came within range, the battery opened on us with round shot and shell; then, as we came nearer, with grape and canister. But we pushed steadily on until we were less than sixty yards from them, when we halted; for we had lost so many men, and had become so disorganized in the march through the timber and brush that the impetus of our charge was gone. The regiments on both sides of us had already done the same. We sheltered ourselves as well as we could, behind trees and fallen timber, and opened fire on their battery, receiving a hot fire in return from their infantry. We succeeded, however, in driving off the Confederate gunners, and prevented the cannonfrom being worked for the remainder of the day.
When we had first come within range of the grape-shot, my scabbard had been struck and cut in two at a point just below where I grasped it with my left hand. Later, when my men had sheltered themselves and had commenced firing, I was again struck. I was at the time resting on one knee in a position where I could watch the battery, and direct our fire upon it, for I was determined that the enemy should not have an opportunity to take it away so long as we had a chance to capture it. My attention had just been called to something on the left, when a bullet struck the front of my cap, cutting the figure "3" out of the bugle, and glancing from the bone, cut a gash across my forehead. For a time I lost all interest in that battle. When I regained my feet, Colonel Hawley, who was standing near, told me to get back to the hospital. I succeeded in finding my way to a small ravine that we had crossed, thinking as I got back of the line, that there werea thousand bullets flying, to every one nearer the front. At the small brook in the ravine, I tried to wash off the blood which was blinding me, but had such poor success that I concluded to follow the Colonel's advice and have the wound dressed. I considered it not much of a clip, and thought that in three days at the most I would be back with my company. It was about two months before I rejoined, and a good many years before I entirely recovered.
On my way back to the hospital, I met in succession General Williams who commanded the Division, General Hooker who commanded the Corps, General Thomas who commanded the Army of the Cumberland, and General Sherman who commanded the Department. Each stopped and asked if I was much hurt—when I told that it was only a scratch, they were eager for information as to the situation at the front. I explained that we had driven the artillerymen from their guns, but that the infantry in their breastworks had been too much for us. Then each kindly told me to go to the hospital.
At the hospital I found Dr. Conley, our RegimentalSurgeon, who dressed my wound and gave me a blanket to lie down on. I got away to one side and tried to sleep, but the Doctor disturbed me so often to look at my wound that this was impossible. I finally lost all patience with him and ordered him to let me alone; but he afterwards explained that he feared I would go to sleep and wake up in the next world.
This fight is known in the North as the Battle of Dallas, or the Battle of Pumpkinvine Creek, and in the South as the Battle of New Hope Church. In the engagement, our Regiment lost eighteen men killed and ninety-two wounded. This loss was quite unevenly distributed among the companies. Mine had sixteen men severely wounded, two of whom subsequently died. Company A, on my left, had six men killed and twenty-one wounded. Captain Hunter of Company F was wounded by a canister shot, in one of his legs near the knee-joint, and died shortly after. Captain Ruger of the Brigade staff also received a severe wound in the knee, which incapacitated him for further service during the war.
On the afternoon of the day following the battle,I thought I was strong enough to go back to my Regiment. So I started out, against the protests of the surgeons; but after going about a quarter of a mile, my legs gave out, and I was obliged to return and obey directions. I remained at the field hospital for about three and a half days. During most of that time the surgeons were busy at the amputating table. On the morning of the 29th all of the slightly wounded were sent off with the wagon train. The more seriously wounded were sent off late in the afternoon in the ambulances. Captains Hunter, Ruger, and I went in the same ambulance, I was on the seat with the driver.
At Kingston, where we arrived on the 30th, a long train of freight cars for the slightly wounded, and hospitals cars for the severely wounded was waiting, ready to start for Chattanooga. Captain Hunter was, however, too ill to go, and I would not leave him, so we waited over together until June 2. The ride to Chattanooga was a very severe one for poor Hunter, and he appeared to be much the worse for it. He recovered temporarily under the careful treatment at Chattanooga, of Doctor Persons of the First WisconsinCavalry, but on June 8 began to sink rapidly, and died on the afternoon of the following day.
My wound was not dangerous, yet it was serious enough to entitle me to a leave of absence. I took advantage of it to return for a pleasant week to my Wisconsin home; then rejoined my Regiment near the Chattahoochee River on July 17. During my absence it had followed the fortunes of the Twentieth Corps, having had no hard fighting and but few casualties on the picket line. The term of service of the men who had not reënlisted had expired on June 29, and they had been mustered out. The officers in the various regiments, however, who wished to be mustered out, found themselves conscripted for a longer term. Their applications had been approved until they had reached General Thomas; but he had forwarded them to Washington with recommendations for dishonorable discharge. Discovering this danger, the officers had withdrawn their applications. A number in the Twenty-Ninth Pennsylvania had, however, been dishonorably discharged under such circumstances, and at the time this seemed to us an injustice.
On the day that I rejoined the Regiment the army moved forward across the Chattahoochee River. During the next three days a farther advance was made across Peach Tree Creek, and we were now but a few miles from the fortifications of Atlanta. On the afternoon of the 20th, General Hood, the new Confederate commander who had succeeded Johnston, came out of his entrenchments and made a furious attack on our lines. The brunt of it fell on our Corps, which was somewhat in advance of the others. Our Regiment being in the second line was not engaged, for the first line repulsed the enemy along the entire front. The fighting was very severe, the Confederates coming up to the attack again and again. The loss in our Corps was about 2,000 killed and wounded; that of the enemy must have been double that number.
On the night of the 21st I went on picket duty with instructions to advance my picket line if possible, for the enemy's pickets were so close that their stray bullets were causing much annoyancein our camp. We were not very successful during the night; but in the morning, when the whole Brigade picket line under Major Smith of the One Hundred Fiftieth New York, moved forward, the enemy had disappeared. As was now becoming quite usual, a number of their men remained behind to be taken prisoners.
Major Smith's orders were to advance until he found the enemy. So we slowly pushed forward through their strong but abandoned works, and encountered no serious opposition until within about a mile of their fortifications immediately surrounding the city. We met their picket line on a hill, and drove it back a half mile, but they brought out against us such a strong force that we in turn were obliged to fall back, taking our stand on the hills where we had first met their pickets. From this position they did not seriously attempt to dislodge us.
From our vantage we could see all of their manœuvers. Apparently there were not more than 2,000 or 3,000 troops to prevent our entry into the city. I have always believed that if there had been someone high enough in command tohave used the troops where I was that day, Atlanta could have been captured much more easily than it was six weeks later. At about six o'clock our Corps came up, and our picket line, once more moving forward, drove the Confederate skirmishers to within two hundred yards of their forts.
The next day a battery of twenty-poundParrottguns was planted on the hill and commenced throwing shells into the city over our heads. The enemy replied with spirit, and we received many of their compliments that were intended for the battery. Our men protected themselves by throwing up an earthwork in front of the camp, with a ditch behind it wide enough and deep enough to shelter all in case of necessity. The officers all had heavy earth barricades built in front of their tents, and these furnished fairly good protection.
I remember to have been one night in the Colonel's tent when the shells were flying pretty lively. We were just discussing whether his embankment would stop a shell, when one came along and buried itself in the ground a little in front without exploding. The Colonel went out and found that it had gone two feet into theground. One of the other officers present expressed the opinion that it would have gone through the breastwork if it had struck properly. The words were scarcely out of his mouth when another shell struck the work, penetrating about two-thirds of the way, and exploding without damage.
At another time we were not so fortunate. A shell struck the barricade of Captain Orton of Company K, passed through, and exploded in the tent, mortally wounding him and seriously wounding Lieutenants Barager, Blanchard, and Schweers, who were with him. Lieutenant Barager served until the end of the war; but a few years after its close, he became, as a consequence of that shock, a physical and mental wreck.
The enemy's sharpshooters were close enough to us to keep dropping their bullets incessantly into our camp. It was at first rather annoying to have them come pattering around whenever anyone moved, but in time we became so accustomed to the missiles, that we went about our ordinary business as though there were no Confederates within forty miles. On one occasion the ThirteenthNew Jersey went out in front of the line and captured thirty-five of the enemy's pickets, and burned the houses where the marksmen had been stationed.
On July 28 General Hooker was at his own request relieved of the command of our Corps. He had taken offence at being jumped by General Howard for the command of the Army of the Tennessee, after the death of General McPherson in the battle of July 22. I do not believe that the highest officers generally sympathized with Hooker, but the Corps as a whole felt that his loss was a serious blow. He had large personal influence on his troops. During an active campaign, virtually every soldier in his Corps saw him almost daily. If there was a picket line to be established, he personally examined it; if an assault was made on the enemy, he was with the foremost, always brave to the extreme of recklessness. He was, moreover, careful of the welfare of his men. He made his commissaries attend strictly to business, and his Corps would often be furnished with the delicacies of army rations when others were short or had nothing but hardtack and salt pork.It was a common remark all through the army that Joe Hooker fed his men the best, and fought them the best, of any of the corps commanders. Of course his men worshipped him and under him were invincible; for the same reason the enemy dreaded him worse than anything else mortal.
The newspapers of the day said that the appointment of General Howard was the work of President Lincoln. But it was reported in the Corps, that General Sherman had been the prime mover. It was freely whispered among us that Sherman, with all his great talents and acknowledged ability, was affected with the same weakness that was said to have troubled Napoleon—the not being able to look with complacency on the great personal popularity of a subordinate. Sherman was reported to have allowed this feeling to break forth into positive insult of General Hooker and his Corps in the presence of subordinates. For instance, on the night after the battle of Peach Tree Creek, before any returns of casualties had been made, Hooker told Sherman that he had lost that day nearly 2,000 men. "Oh pshaw!" answered Sherman, "that's nothing; they'll all beback in the morning." Later it was found that 1,700 members of the Corps had been killed or wounded, and that they had successfully repulsed the whole Confederate army with a reported loss to the latter of 6,000.
Before leaving, General Hooker invited all the colonels in the Corps to call on him, and told them frankly his reasons for resigning. He said that during the whole campaign he had been subjected to unbearable insults and indignities, and his Corps and its performances had been underrated and disparaged. And now, to have promoted over him a junior officer from this Department, whose rank and service were far below his, was the last straw; his reputation as a soldier and his honor as a man would not, he said, admit of his remaining.
The enemy's picket line had been temporarily quieted by the advance of the Thirteenth New Jersey, but was now again annoying us. These pickets were on a ridge about two hundred yards in front of their main line of works, and not more than four hundred yards from our camp. They had lines of pits dug all along their position andcould at any time communicate with their main line. Our pickets were also located in pits, but could only be relieved at night. It was determined to reverse this order of things. So at daylight on July 30, at a preconcerted signal, our whole Brigade picket line, under command of Lieutenant-Colonel Morse of the Second Massachusetts, jumped out of their pits, crossed the intervening space at a run, and captured the enemy's entire line, numbering seven officers and ninety-seven men.
A regiment was immediately sent out to reënforce our men, and breastworks were hastily thrown up. From their forts and main breastworks, the enemy poured into us a shower of shot and shell; but our men held their position all day, many of them firing as much as two hundred rounds of ammunition. At night the position was made impregnable against anything save a movement in large force; and in the morning the enemy were compelled to withdraw their artillery and close the embrasures of their forts.
For some weeks there was not much change in the situation, so far as we were concerned. Therewas much hard work for the men in the trenches, and they were all getting anxious for the capture of Atlanta. I believe nine-tenths of them would rather have fought the matter out in an open battle than to have kept on scraping and shoveling to dig them out. It seemed to us at the time that between our army and that of the Confederates, there had been enough dirt dug, from Louisville to Atlanta, to have built all the railroads in the United States.
For a time in our advanced position, firing on the picket line was constant, and there were many casualties. In a week or two, however, a sort of truce was established, and firing ceased. Just before I had rejoined my Regiment on the Chattahoochee, our pickets had been quite friendly with the pickets of the enemy. They had traded coffee for tobacco, and had offered to take letters and send them to Union prisoners in their hands. I should at this time have liked to send a letter to my brother. But now they would not go as far as that; nothing would induce them to meet us between the picket lines for trading; to all our advancesthey replied that their orders forbade them to do so.
On August 25 important changes were made in the disposition of our troops. Our Corps was withdrawn from before Atlanta and moved back to the Chattahoochee River. The rest of the army was moved around to the south of Atlanta, temporarily abandoning its communications; this was in order, by threatening his flank, to compel Hood to come out of his works and fight us in the open.
Throughout that day our heavy guns poured a constant stream of shot and shell into the city. As soon as darkness had settled down on the camps, we silently folded our tents and moved back. I had been on picket duty that night; it was still and clear, and the slightest sound could be heard at a great distance. As I passed along the picket line, from man to man, and gave them the word to follow instructions—which were for each man, as I passed him, to leave his post and go back silently to the rear—I could hear the Confederates changing their relief just a little in my front. In one case I heard the old sentinel tell the new one to "keepa sharp watch on those Yanks over there," for they were up to something and he believed they were going to attack.
At the railroad bridge over the Chattahoochee, where we took position, earthworks had already been built. We strengthened them and built new ones, so that by the night of the 26th we were in condition to fight the whole of Hood's army. Hood was, however, too busy south of Atlanta, where Sherman now was, to trouble us; and we had several days of complete quiet. It was a great relief, after our experiences in the trenches, to be able to walk around without hearing the bullets whistle about our ears. Not the least of our enjoyment was, to have a good river close at hand to bathe in.
During our stay here, General Slocum arrived and took command of the Corps. When he made his first tour around the camp, he was given a royal reception by his old command. They had all been anxious to have as their leader someone who had been identified with them in the Army of the Potomac. With that army they had won theirlaurels, and they wished still to be known as a part of it.
Slocum was a very different type of man from Hooker. The latter was brilliant and dashing, and in the excitement of battle his ardor and personal courage carried him where the fire was hottest. Slocum, on the contrary, reminded one of the descriptions of Marlborough. Cool and unimpassioned he directed a battle as he would a review. Without particularly avoiding danger, he would not rush recklessly into it. Hooker was an inveterate boaster. Slocum usually said nothing. I think most men would have considered Hooker the better leader, and Slocum the better man.
Late on the night of September 1, while I was on picket duty, I heard in the direction of Atlanta what I at first thought was artillery. The rumbling kept increasing in intensity until it seemed like the heaviest firing I had ever heard. Finally, a number of terrific explosions lit up the air. At six miles distance they seemed like bright flashes of lightning. I knew then that the enemy were blowing up their powder magazines. I supposed,however, that Sherman was fighting his way into Atlanta from the south.
At daylight a reconnoitering party was sent out toward the city. They found it evacuated, except for a small rear guard of cavalry which was soon driven out. The remainder of the Corps moved up in the afternoon, our Regiment reaching the city at about dark. Sherman's flanking movement had been completely successful. He had met Hood on the Macon Railroad, near Jonesboro, and had beaten him terribly. The Confederate commander had been obliged to evacuate Atlanta at once, blowing up eighty cars of ammunition which had been cut off by the capture of the railroad at Jonesboro. He had been compelled to destroy, also, the large rolling mill of the city, which was said to have been the only mill in the South where plating for gunboats could be manufactured.
We found more Union sentiment in Atlanta than anywhere else in the South. As our Brigade entered the city, at about nine o'clock at night, many of the women brought out buckets of water for us to drink. They were very bitter againstHood's army, which they said had robbed them of everything that could be carried off, with the excuse that the Yankees would steal it anyway. They were agreeably disappointed to find that the Yankees did not rob them of a thing.
Immense quantities of tobacco were abandoned by the Secessionist citizens who left town. This fact ruined the sutlers' trade in that article. On the day before Atlanta fell, tobacco sold in our camps at a dollar a plug, and fifteen cents for cigars. On the day after, plug tobacco passed about for five cents, and cigars were twenty-five cents a hundred. Our men found tobacco in every conceivable place. One lot of twenty boxes was dug out from under a big ash-heap. It was, however, the only plunder obtained, for the most stringent orders were issued against pillaging occupied houses.
The effects of the Union bombardment could everywhere be seen in the city. Almost every house had the marks on it of shot and shell. One man showed me a dozen shells that had struck in his garden. The families remaining in the city had all built in their yards bombproofs, to which theyhad fled for safety whenever the shelling was in progress.
On September 6 Sherman's army came back from Jonesboro, and went into camp in the vicinity of town. For a time we enjoyed the luxury of complete rest, after our four months of continuous campaigning. On September 23 our Regiment received from Wisconsin 200 fresh recruits, who had just been secured under the draft. Every one was a substitute, and a splendid lot of men they were physically, representing almost every nation in Europe—English, Irish, Scotch, Welsh, Germans, French, Norwegians, and I don't know how many others. Some of them could not speak a word of English. Over a dozen were full-blooded Chippewa Indians, who until they put on the uniforms of the United States Army, had never worn the clothing of civilized people. They were all excellent raw material, and in the course of time made good soldiers. I recall only two of the entire 200 who deserted.
About the first of October, Hood set out on his trip to the North, in the attempt to starve us out of Atlanta. On October 3 Sherman started after himwith all of the army except our Corps, which was left to hold the town. Our camps were now changed around so as to defend the city on a shorter line. Our Brigade was moved from the south to the northwest side, and set to work to build new breastworks, or rather to rebuild the old ones of the Confederates.
The enemy succeeded in getting upon our railroad to the North, and for about twenty days we were completely cut off without news or provisions. However, they had left us the whole of the country southward to forage in; and this, together with the rice we had captured in the city, and the "beef dried on the hoof," as the men called the cattle that were driven in, kept us a long way from starving. Every week our forage trains would run out into the country to the south, and gather in from 500 to 700 wagon-loads of corn, besides living, while they were out, on the best that the land afforded. Moreover, we had our provisions all to ourselves; for on September 10 Sherman had ordered all the citizens of the town to leave either to the North or to the South.
On October 11 our Regiment went out for the first time on a foraging expedition. There were 2,500 men in the detachment, and a train of about 500 wagons. About fifteen miles south of Atlanta we found plenty of corn for the animals; and for the men, abundance of sweet potatoes and other dainties not laid down in the army menu. In two days we had our wagons laden with all that could be hauled away. About a fortnight later we went out again and brought in over 800 wagons of corn.
The forage which we thus gathered was the salvation of our animals and beef cattle. The mules had been on half rations of grain all summer, quite without hay, and the whole country in the vicinity of Atlanta had been grazed over until it was as bare as a city street. The beeves that had been driven down from Louisville, had for weeks nothing to eat save the leaves and sprouts on the bushes. It was a standing joke among the men that the commissary always killed for beef those animals that could not survive until the next day.
On October 29 came the first through trains from Chattanooga, after the movement of Hood to the North. On the same day came orders to reduce baggage and prepare for marching. Soon, rumors were spreading about the camp that we were to start on a fifty days' campaign, without communications. On November 4 we were ready to move. I wrote numerous letters of good-bye to friends at home, telling them that they would hear from me next at Charleston or Savannah. I hoped that it would be Charleston, for I wanted the people of South Carolina who started the war to feel its effects and to reap their share of the horrors.
On November 5 we started out and marched three miles from town. The next day, however, we returned in order to wait until the Army of the Tennessee might be paid off. This gave us a chance to vote in the Presidential election, which we had come very near missing. Our Regiment gave Lincoln 304 votes and McClellan 21. For another full week we remained in Atlanta, ourRegiment being occupied the entire time in tearing up railroad tracks and destroying everything of value in the city. By the time we were ready to leave, Atlanta was worth little more to the Confederates than any other piece of ground of similar size. On November 15 we started out in earnest on the now famous "March to the Sea." Our last view of Atlanta, the prize for which we had so long struggled, was a column of dense smoke from its burning buildings; we had destroyed everything in town except the churches and private residences.
Our expedition numbered about 50,000 men, under the command of Sherman. Thomas's army remained behind to look after Hood. We took with us only about twenty days' rations, for the country through which we passed was expected to furnish the remainder of our needs. The army proceeded in two columns—the right wing under Howard making for Macon; the left under Slocum making for Augusta. Each corps, also, took a different route in order to be able to subsist more easily on the country.
Our Corps proceeded along the Augusta railroad,which we destroyed as we went along by burning the ties and twisting the heated rails. Parts of the country were poor and furnished little forage. Other portions, however, compensated by giving us an abundance of sweet potatoes and pork, with occasional lots of corn meal, flour, and sorghum, and, for the first arrivals on the plantation, chickens and turkeys. On our route we found plenty of good horses and mules, and all the forage that we could carry off. Occasionally, also the enterprising forager would capture some apple-jack or corn whiskey.
At Madison we turned and took the road to Milledgeville, the capital of Georgia. Geary's Division, however, followed up the railroad to the Oconee River, and destroyed the Oconee bridge. We entered Milledgeville on the 22nd without opposition, and camped in the state-house yard. During our stay, our Regiment and the One Hundred Seventh New York guarded the city. I took up my quarters with an acquaintance of one of my Wisconsin friends, and saw to it that his house and family were not molested. He had several hundred bales of cotton stored near town,which Sherman had consented to have bonded; but some zealous officer or officious "bummer," had set fire to it before it could be saved.
Upon our approach to Milledgeville, Governor Brown of Georgia, had released all of the convicts in the State Prison at that place. In celebration of their freedom, their first act was to destroy the old prison. Our first work was to destroy the Milledgeville arsenal, in which was stored a large quantity of Confederate arms and ammunition. We carried out and threw into the river, all of the ammunition in the magazine, and burned up all of the arms and equipment. Besides several thousand stands of good arms, there were a lot of old-fashioned rifles and shot-guns, and thousands of pikes and bowie knives that had been manufactured by the State for the militia, with which to repel Yankees. In the state-house were millions of dollars of Georgia State money, in bills of all denominations and to these the men helped themselves without limit. All of the cotton in the vicinity that could be burned without endangering good buildings, was destroyed, and that which was stored in the city was bonded not to be turnedover to the Confederate Government, or used for its benefit. I was sent out with a detachment of men to search the stores for tobacco, and found enough to load several wagons, which kept the army supplied with that article until we reached Savannah.
From Milledgeville we marched eastward toward Sandersville, through a very poor country. At Buffalo Creek, a swampy stream about eight miles from Sandersville, we found that the seven bridges crossing it had been burned—the negroes told us that this had been done by the people of Sandersville. We were delayed about three hours in repairing the bridges, so did not arrive at Sandersville until the next morning. For the last two days we had been on slim rations, and Sandersville was well supplied. Of course there was a general rush for eatables, and the town was soon raided. The citizens hurried to Sherman to make complaint and get protection.
He turned on them and asked, "Which of you was it who set fire to those bridges yesterday?" They all denied having done it, but admitted that it had been done by citizens of the town. "Well," said he, "those that make war must takethe consequences," which was all the consolation they got. Later, we found the man who fired the bridges; he was promptly arrested and his property burned.
As we entered Sandersville we had a sharp skirmish with Wheeler's Confederate Cavalry, in which two of them were killed. Our Indians seemed to think it was not exactly right to leave the dead bodies with their scalps on. They soon fell into the civilized custom of making war, however, and did not afterward express any desire to take scalps.
From Sandersville we turned south until we reached the Georgia Central Railroad at Tennille Station. We burned the railway buildings there, and proceeded along the line, tearing it up as we went along.
On November 28 we passed near the home of the Honorable Herschel V. Johnson.[1]By proddinginto the ground with their ramrods, some of our foragers found there a lot of more or less valuable papers and letters, which had for safe-keeping been buried in his cabbage patch. Some of the letters from his son, who was an officer on Hood's staff, afforded us much amusement. Our mess forager found here, also, a stock of flour that lasted until we reached Savannah.
Thus far, we had almost always found sufficient provisions along the line of march to feed the command fairly well. Now, however, we were obliged to send out strong parties of foragers for long distances on our flanks, to search the country in order to get enough to eat. Wherever we went we destroyed everything that might be of value to the enemy. On the 29th, near Bostwick, we burned up millions of feet of bridge timber, all got out and framed for bridges, that the Confederates expected to build when the Yankees weredriven out. I noticed that some of the timbers were marked Strawberry Plains and Chattanooga Creek.
On December 3 our column crossed the Millen & Augusta Railroad near Millen, and destroyed as much of it as we could. We were now in a level, sandy country, thickly covered with pine timber, and plantations were few and scattered. On the 4th we heard cannonading in the distance, which was said by citizens to be at Charleston, South Carolina, seventy miles away. On the 7th we found our road for a distance obstructed with felled timber, which, however, so little delayed the march that those in the rear would not have known of it. On the 8th, after passing Springfield, the trains and pack-mules were left behind, with the Third Division as a guard, while the First and Second Divisions pushed on rapidly toward Savannah.
We encountered the enemy in force for the first time fourteen miles from Savannah, in Monteith Swamp, where they had built an earthworkacross the road and felled trees in front of it. The First Brigade of our Division was sent around to their left, and our Brigade to their right, while the Third Brigade moved forward on the center. Our plan was to hold their attention to the front, while we got around on their rear. They discovered us in time, however, to escape. Captain Kleven of Company H, who with his skirmishers, was in advance of our Brigade, made a rapid movement forward as soon as he saw the enemy falling back, and succeeded in capturing three prisoners. The First Brigade opened fire at about the same time, sending a few bullets over our way, and severely wounding in the foot, Captain Buck of Company B. The Third Brigade also came up in time to claim a share in the honor of capturing the three prisoners. Finally, to settle the dispute, the prisoners themselves were brought to Division headquarters, where they pointed out Captain Kleven as their captor.
At Monteith Station we captured the post-office and a considerable mail. The letters, which were mostly written by the soldiers whom wehad tried to capture the day before, afforded the men an abundance of fun.
On the 10th we marched to within about four miles of Savannah, where we were stopped by the entrenched enemy. While we were getting into line, a detail of foragers, gathered along the banks of the Savannah River, spied a small steamer coming up the stream from the city. They hid themselves along the shore until the boat was directly opposite, when they opened a musketry fire and compelled the craft to surrender. It proved to be a Confederate dispatch boat on its way up the river to warn the fleet that Sherman and his army had arrived. The fleet did not receive the warning, and interesting developments followed. The men who had captured the prize did not know its value, and after stripping it of everything they wanted, set fire to it.
The country between our lines and those of the enemy was a big rice plantation, which overflowed at every high tide, and which could be kept under water by closing the flood-gates. The only means of access to the city were the narrow causeways built through this swamp. At the point where wewere located, the Savannah River is divided by Argyle Island into two channels, the main or navigable one being near the Georgia shore. The island is about ten miles long, and at our end something like a mile wide. It was occupied by a large rice plantation, which naturally overflowed about two feet at high tide, but which had been ditched and diked so that the flow was regulated at the flood-gates. If we could control these, we could keep the island passable. The plantation buildings were situated on the east side, near the channel, where a number of acres rose high enough above the general surface to be safe from overflow.
On the evening of the 11th our Regiment was ordered across to Argyle Island. There were on hand but two or three skiffs, and only a portion of the men could be brought over that night. In the morning the crossing was being continued, when suddenly the discovery was made that three steamers were coming around the bend of the river on their way to Savannah. Owing to the vigilance of our foragers on the previous day, theyhad received no warning of the presence of Sherman's army.
Captain Winegar of Battery M, First New York Artillery, had his rifled guns in position on a slight elevation along the shore, where he commanded the river for a stretch of nearly a mile. As soon as the steamers, which were a part of Commodore Tattnall's Mosquito Fleet, came into plain view, he opened on them. They probably had never before been under fire for their crews seemed confused. The first craft, which was a gunboat, commenced immediately backing and turning. The second, the armed tender "Resolute," started to do the same, but was run into by the third, and so badly crippled that she drifted ashore against Argyle Island. The other two vessels managed to escape up the river.
While the miniature naval battle was going on, our men who were on the island, under command of Captain Barager, had hastened to the scene. When the "Resolute" drifted ashore, they were on hand to prevent the officers and crew from making their escape in small boats, as they had started to do. There were twenty prisoners in all. Weafterwards had a fine lot of fun listening to the officers as they accused one another of being the cause of the disaster. The "Resolute" was towed over to the Georgia shore, near the battery, but could not be repaired in time to be of any service in our future operations on the island.
The question of rations was at this time becoming vital. One day's allowance had been issued to us on the day after our arrival in front of Savannah. We were, therefore, on the lookout for anything that might serve to supplement our supplies. As soon as my Company had come across to the island, we took the shortest route to the plantation buildings on the east side. Not a thing was left; those who had come before us had already absorbed everything. But at the landing I found a good six-oared boat that would carry about ten men besides the rowers. Impressing a crew of negroes to row the boat, I started for a plantation on the other side of the river, about half a mile up, thinking that I would be the first man of Sherman's army to invade South Carolina. On landing, however, I was told by the blacks that two of our "bummers" had been there the day before,and in an altercation with the plantation hands had killed one of them. The funeral was just going on when we arrived. Subsequent events made me believe that Wheeler's Cavalry, and not our men were responsible for this tragedy.
I placed a sentinel out on the only road by which a mounted force could approach, and then began a search for eatables. We soon were rewarded by a good supply of sweet potatoes and sorghum. In the boat-house we found a fine lot of boats; as these were especially valuable for our purposes, we shoved them all out into the river to float down to our landing on the island. We had just loaded up our supplies, when my sentinel came running in with the report that a large force of cavalry were coming. We hastily pulled back to the island and waited for them; but they did not come to close quarters and soon retired.
Three days later I was sent out with Captain Barager's Company and my own to take possession of this plantation. We knew that the enemy now held it in some force, but we did not know how strong they were. I had secured boats enough on our first raid to be able to take over bothof our companies at one time. We started in the morning, when it was as yet scarcely light, hoping to come upon the enemy unexpectedly. Their sentinels discovered us, however, and fired on us while crossing. We landed about a quarter of a mile from the plantation buildings and rapidly pushed forward. I sent Barager with his Company to the right, while I took the direct course to the rice mill, in which the enemy were sheltered.
The country was broken up into a mass of ditches, dykes, and canals. We found that our only road was along a narrow dyke, and that we should either have to return or charge them in single file. We did not retreat. In less time than it takes to tell this story, we had the mill. They gave us one volley and hit nobody. We did not fire a shot. They escaped with their guns and ammunition, but we captured all their provisions, including their breakfast cooking on the fire. For the first time in three days we had all that we wanted to eat. Colonel Hawley came over soon after, with three more companies, but toward night the Confederates appeared in such force that we again withdrew to the island.
The next morning the enemy brought down a section of artillery to the Smith Plantation, as it was called, and commenced shelling our island camp. I was sent with my Company to get as close as possible to them on our side of the river, and either silence them or drive them off. I got up within about a hundred and fifty yards of them and opened fire. They immediately turned their guns on us, and for a few minutes gave it to us hot. We had good shelter, however, and lost only one man—John Furlong, a veteran of Company E. It took me about twenty minutes to drive off the battery, but their infantry held out all day.
On the 19th the whole Brigade crossed over to the Smith Plantation, with a section of artillery. Entrenchments were built at all commanding points, and preparation made to hold the position. On the 20th Colonel Hawley made a reconnoissance in force toward Union Causeway, the only Confederate outlet from Savannah, but found the enemy in such strength that he could not reach it. But from our position we could see the lines of their wagons leaving the city. On the morning ofthe 21st it was found that the enemy had evacuated Savannah, and our troops moved in and took possession.
We now received orders to recross the river to the Georgia side and march to Savannah. We had nothing but flatboats to cross in, and a strong wind was against us, so that we made slow progress while our Regiment covered the crossing. When all the rest had passed over, and we were about half embarked, the enemy swarmed down upon us by the thousand. They had us surrounded on three sides, with a river behind; and our chances for seeing Savannah were not brilliant. Nevertheless, we faced about and prepared to fight them. Our friends of the Second Massachusetts came, without orders, back to our assistance, and placed themselves where they could cover our flanks. We were sheltered behind a dyke, and the enemy could not get at us save by charging across an open rice field; this they did not have the nerve to do, so that when darkness settled down we got off safely to the island. I think there was not a man in our command, butthanked his lucky stars that it was not some of Lee's veterans that had us in that fix that night.