Preparations were being made at Missionary Ridge for battle, and the
rebels were concentrating all their forces at that point. Burnside’s
Corps returned to Knoxville and was besieged. After Grant defeated
the rebel forces at Missionary Ridge, Longstreet’s army came up to
Knoxville and attacked the Federal forces on the west end, but were
repulsed with great loss. Longstreet’s defeated and demoralized
forces took up their march to East Tennessee, making their way to
Virginia. Burnside’s Corps followed them as far as Jonesboro, and
then returned by way of Knoxville.
Grant and Sherman were getting their forces together, and making
preparations for the great march to Atlanta. Burnside arrived at Red
Clay and marched out to what is called Buzzard’s Roost and attacked
the enemy, but they were too strongly fortified. We fell back, and
Sherman commenced for the first time with his “flanking machine,”
as the rebels called it. We marched around through Snake Creek
Gap and formed in line of battle about a half mile from the rebel
breastworks, our Division being in front. We marched down through
a piece of woodland and up a hill about two hundred yards from the
rebel works. The grape and canister would cut through our ranks, and
we would close up the gaps. It was said that there were about five
hundred pieces of artillery playing at the same time. It seemed that
the earth was tottering to the center.
We were ordered to lie down within about one hundred yards of the
rebel breastworks. A line of battle passed over us, a Colonel being
mounted. His horse was shot from under him, but he never halted. The
horse fell and rolled down the hill, about ten steps from our line.
General Sherman, knowing our condition and that we were losing
hundreds of men, moved around on our extreme right and, getting the
range of the rebel breastworks, turned loose his artillery and plowed
the rebels out of the works. They retreated, and the day was ours.
When the battle was going on the cannon balls cut off the tops of
the trees, and they fell in our ranks and killed many of our men.
After the smoke of the battle had cleared away, I could see the rebel
sharpshooters hanging in the trees. They had tied themselves to keep
from falling if wounded, but some were dead. It was reported that the
rebels obtained from some foreign country the long-range guns then
used by the Southern sharpshooters, which seemed to be superior to
the rifles in possession of our forces.
This little account is not intended to give the history of the War or
the exciting campaign through Georgia, but only to give an insight
into my personal experiences.
I will here relate one little occurrence at Cartersville, Ga., after
we had driven the rebels across the Etowah River. I was detailed with
about fifty men to go around a mountain and down to a large flour
mill on the river, if we could, and burn it up with all its contents.
We arrived on the side of a mountain just above the mill and halted.
On the opposite side of the river was a high bluff, from which we
were fired upon by the rebels, but we sheltered ourselves behind
trees.
I took eight or ten men and went back a few hundred yards to a little
stream that flowed into a mill race leading to the mill. The race was
quite large, and as the water overflowed on both sides it formed a
screened pathway. We reached the mill, unseen by the rebels, and went
from the basement to the upper floor, where we found four men sacking
flour and corn meal and loading it in wagons in front of the mill. We
arrested them and ordered them to help us carry the flour and meal
back into the mill. We then unhitched the horses from the wagons,
took off the wheels and rolled them into the mill, and then set the
building on fire. When it was in full blast, we released the men and
went back the same way we came. Finding that our men had silenced the
rebels on the other side, we took up our march back to our command
and made our report.
We crossed the Etowah River the next day, and found the rebels had
formed a line of battle and built breastworks. We drove the rebel
picket line in, and fortified within about five hundred yards from
the enemy’s fortifications, which were on a ridge in a piece of
woodland. Our picket line was deployed on the edge of an old field,
about two hundred yards from the rebel breastworks. There were two
small log cabins between the lines, about thirty feet apart, from
which any of our men who exposed themselves were shot. I saw several
men killed while trying to pass between these cabins. Being in charge
of the brigade picket line, I received an order to charge the rebel
pickets and drive them into their works. I knew it was death to every
man, for I had been there all day and understood the situation. I
refused to make the charge, and one of Burnside’s Staff—I think it
was Major Tracy—rode up and said to me, “Why did you disobey orders?”
I told him if he remained where he was he would be shot. Just then
a ball struck him in the breast, and he fell from his horse and was
carried off the field. I received no more orders, and remained in
charge of the picket line.
That night about twelve o’clock I heard a cow bell tinkling in front
of us, sounding as if cattle were eating leaves off the bushes. I
called the attention of Sergeant George Freshour to it. He belonged
to my company, and was as brave a boy as ever lived. He said,
“Captain, that is rebels, trying to make us think it is cattle.”
He handed me his gun, and said he would crawl down in the bushes
and see what it meant. He was gone about ten minutes, when I heard
him crawling out of the bushes, nearly out of breath, and in a low
whisper he said, “Captain, the woods are full of rebels and they are
advancing!”
I immediately passed the word along the line to get ready for a
charge. In a few minutes I gave the order, “Charge!” and we did
charge! We drove the rebel line back into their works, and returned
to our former line. It was as dark as it could be, and they evidently
thought the whole Federal army was after them
The next morning at daylight I was relieved, and we were
congratulated for our action.
About four o’clock that evening the whole rebel line charged our
works. The battle lasted about two hours, but we repulsed them and
they fell back, leaving about three hundred dead and wounded on the
field.
Sherman was moving on the extreme right, as usual, turning the
rebels’ left flank, and they had to leave their works and retreat. We
continued in pursuit of the enemy, skirmishing continuously, and when
we reached the front of Atlanta we were on the extreme left near the
breastworks, guarding the wagon train.
About two o’clock on the afternoon of July 22, 1864, the rebels
attacked our left and drove our wagon train pell mell, forcing our
left wing back. General James B. McPherson came up with his Staff,
rode out through a piece of woodland in front of us, and ran into the
rebel cavalry and was killed. I was within thirty yards of him at the
time.
In about a half-hour General John A. Logan came up and took command.
The evening after General McPherson was killed the rebels charged on
our left, and it was said to be the hardest battle that was fought
while we were at Atlanta.
Next morning we were ordered around to the extreme right of Atlanta,
to tear up the railroad between Atlanta and Jonesboro. Our regiment
was the first to reach the railroad. We took the rails off the cross
ties and bent them, piled the cross ties on top of the rails and set
them on fire. Two trains came up from the South, making their way to
Atlanta, but discovered that the railroad was torn up, and backed out
and disappeared.
On the sixth day of August we were about the center of the army, and
were ordered to advance on the rebel works. There was an old field
between our forces and the rebels. They had fortified on a ridge as
usual, in the woods about three hundred yards from this old field,
and they had cut down all the small timber in front of their works,
the tops falling in our direction. They had sharpened the ends of the
timber, forming an abbatis, of which we were not aware until we had
reached within about twenty yards of their works. Some of our men
succeeded in getting through these sharp limbs and up to their works,
although they were killing our men by the dozen. Our color-bearer, a
boy by the name of John Fancher, placed the flag on the rebel works,
and they got hold of it and pulled him in. He was never heard of
again until after the war, when the rebel records showed that he died
in prison.
We had to fall back, leaving our dead and wounded on the ground. We
lost ninety-three men wounded and killed out of our regiment. The
officers who were killed were Capt. Bowers, Lieut. Johnson and Lieut.
Fitzgerald. Lieut. Bible and Lieut. Walker were wounded.
There were five killed and wounded in my company. One of them, George
Ricker, was killed in the fight and laid close to the edge of the old
field. His mess-mate, William Smith, saw him lying dead as we fell
back. After the battle was over, though the sharpshooters were still
firing, Smith asked me to let him go back and get the body, and help
bring it off the field. I said to him it was dangerous for him to
go, but he insisted and I finally consented. He went to where Ricker
was, and just as he stooped down to raise him up a ball struck him
in the side, and he fell dead on the body of his comrade. They were
warm friends in life, and in death were not separated. Afterward the
dead were buried, and the wounded cared for.
On the night of September 1, 1864, the rebels set fire to the arsenal
and all the military implements in Atlanta, and it seemed the whole
earth trembled with the explosions. The rebels evacuated the city,
moving out southeast, and on the morning of September 2d our forces
took possession, thus gaining the victory after a siege lasting over
a month.
Next morning we followed the rebels to Jonesboro and had a hard
battle, defeating them. After the battle was over we remained there
for a few days, and then returned to Atlanta.
The rebel regiment that I was urged to make up in my county,
heretofore mentioned, was captured in the Jonesboro fight, losing
quite heavily in killed and wounded. Some of the men learned that my
regiment was in the battle, and heard that I was there, and they sent
for me. I found that fifteen or twenty of the boys with whom I had
gone to school were prisoners, and several had been killed. Some of
these were boys I had played with when we were children. I make this
statement to show that fathers and brothers and neighbors and friends
had fought against each other. This regiment that I speak of was
paroled and went back to East Tennessee, and never returned to the
rebel army.
After the war we were all good friends and good citizens. These boys
went into the rebel army at the beginning of the war in 1861, and did
not stay around home to rob and kill Union men, and hang them for
their money.