August 29, 1864.
I would much like to know what the Chicago Convention is
doing to-day. We hear there is a possibility they may nominate Sherman. How we
wish they would. He would hardly accept the nomination from such a party, but I
would cheerfully live under Copperhead rule if they would give us such as
Sherman. Sherman believes with Logan, “that if we can't subdue these Rebels and
the rebellion, the next best thing we can do is to all go to hell together.”
We have already thrown our army so far to the right that our
communications are not safe, but yet we can't quite reach the Montgomery or
Macon railroads. It is determined to leave the 20th Corps at Vinings to guard the
railroad bridge, and I think to move all the rest to the right. The army has
just moved its length by the right flank. Looks easy and simple enough, but it
took three days and nights of the hardest work of the campaign. The whole line
lay in sight, and musket range of the enemy, not only our skirmishers, but our
main line, and half a dozen men could, at any point, by showing themselves
above the works, have drawn the enemy's fire. A gun, a caisson, or a wagon
could hardly move without being shelled. On the night of the 25th, the 20th
Corps moved back to the river to guard the railroad bridge seven miles from
Atlanta; and the 4th moved toward the right.
Night of the 26th the 15th, 16th and 17th moved back on
different roads toward the right. The wheels of the artillery were muffled and
most of them moved off very quietly. One gun in our division was not muffled,
and its rattling brought on a sharp fire, but I only heard of two men being
hurt. Our regiment was deployed on the line our brigade occupied, and remained
four hours after everything else had left. At 2:30 a. m. we were ordered to
withdraw very quietly. We had fired very little for two hours, and moved
out so quietly that, though our lines were only 25 yards apart in one place,
the Rebels did not suspect our exit. We moved back three-quarters of a mile and
waited an hour, I think, for some 17th Corps skirmishers. We could hear the
Johnnies popping away at our old position, and occasionally they would open
quite sharply as though angry at not receiving their regular replies. When we
were fully two miles away they threw two shells into our deserted works. We did
not lose a man, but I give you my word, this covering an evacuation is a
delicate, dangerous, and far-from-pleasant duty. There was a Johnnie in the
"pit" nearest us that got off a good thing the other day. A newsboy
came along in the ditch, crying, "Heer's your Cincinnati, Louisville and
Nashville papers." Crack! Crack!! went two Rebel guns, and a Johnnie
holloed “There is your Atlanta “Appeal!”
We caught up with the brigade just at daylight, it was raining, but
our watch, the hard march, the wear and tear of such duty, made some sleep a
necessity, so we tumbled down in the rank smelling weeds, and I was sleeping
equal to Rip Van Winkle in half a minute. In half an hour we were awakened,
took breakfast and marched a couple of miles to where the train was. Here
somebody got Rebel on the brain, and we were run out a mile to investigate. We
stopped in a nice, fine grove, and I didn't want to hear any more about the
Rebels, but went to sleep instanter. That sleep did me a world of good. I woke
about 4 p. m., and found the whole regiment with scarce a half-dozen
exceptions, sound asleep. Finally the rear of the train started and we
followed. At just midnight we came up to the train corral and laid down for the
remnant of the night. At 6 a. m., we left the train and rejoined the division.
At dark we camped on the Montgomery and Atlanta railroad, where the mile post
says 15 miles to Atlanta. The march has been through a miserable rough country.
We have now been more than half-way around Atlanta, and I
have not yet seen a country house that would more than compare favorably with
the Coleman Mansion, or a farm that would in any respect vie with the stumpiest
of Squire Shipley's stump quarter, or the most barren and scraggiest of
Copperas creek barren or brakes. At 12 p. m. they aroused our regiment to tear
up railroad track. In one and one-quarter hours we utterly destroyed rails and
ties for twice the length of our regiment.
We, by main strength with our hands, turned the track upside
down, pried the ties off, stacked them, piled the rails across and fired the
piles. Used no tools whatever. On the 29th the 16th Corps moved down and
destroyed the railroad to Fairburn. On the 30th the army started for Macon
railroad, Kilpatrick's cavalry in advance. He did splendidly. Had hard
skirmishing all the day. Took at least a dozen barricades, and went about as
fast as we wanted to. He saved the Flint river bridge, and our corps crossed
it, and by 12 p. m., were in good position with works within one-half mile of
Jonesboro and the railroad.
Darkness kept us from taking the road that night. The enemy
had a strong line of pickets all around us and we built our works under their
fire. At daylight the 31st, we found the Rebels in plain sight in front of our
regiment. I never saw them so thick. Our regiment is on the extreme right of
the division.
SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an
Illinois Soldier, p. 291-4
