To the rear

The casualties of the Eighty-sixth Regiment, on the long and arduous campaign against Atlanta, was one hundred and seventy-nine men in killed, wounded and missing.

Besides this number, there were many who were taken sick and sent back to hospitals. Thus, when the campaign had ended, the regiment was materially reduced in numbers. It was now not much larger than two full companies; and then, the companies themselves were mere skeletons, some of them not exceeding a corporal’s squad. These were certainly trying times with the soldiers, being attended with constant hardships, privations and adventures, from the beginning of the campaign to its end. But still, those who did pass the fiery ordeal, stood up to it like men, with fine spirits and light hearts, doing all that men could do.

After some changing about, the brigade took up permanent quarters in the outskirts of the city on the south-west side near the railroad. The regiment now fixed up its camp in a substantial manner, and for a long time took the military world easy, spending most of its time in going to and from the city in pursuit of pleasure, and such.

There was not a little trading going on about this time with those who had a disposition that way; in fact, it seemed that Sherman’s whole army had been suddenly metamorphosed into tobacco traders and other kinds of merchants.

Atlanta was overstocked with tobacco, held by private individuals, which was bought by the soldiers at low rates and peddled out with handsome profits. Thus passed the time right briskly, all seeming to have forgotten the past and to be living for the present only.

Shortly after the occupation of Atlanta, General Sherman ordered all non-combatants to leave the city, going north or south as their inclinations and interests might lead them. This order fell on the ears of the inhabitants of Atlanta like a thunderbolt. Though they had lent all the moral and physical assistance in their power to the cause of the rebellion, they had begun to dream of the advent of the Federal troops as the commencement of an era of quiet. They had never imagined the war would reach Atlanta. Now that it had come, and kept its rough, hot hand upon them for so many days, they were beginning to look forward to a long period when they might enjoy at once the advantages of the protection of a just and powerful government, and the luxuries it would thus afford them. It was indeed a pitiful sight to see these reluctant people leave their homes and property, but such was the necessity in the case that it must be done.

Such are the cruel mandates of war, and they were obliged to abide its consequences, having waged and maintained it.

About the middle of September there was an armistice of some days to provide an exit south for these unfortunate people, and for the exchange of prisoners captured in the last campaign.

General James D. Morgan’s division remained in Atlanta at its ease until the 29th of September, when it boarded the cars and was transported, via Chattanooga and Huntsville, to near Athens, Alabama. From this place it was sent on an expedition against General Forrest, who had been making demonstrations on our railroads, having destroyed much of the Nashville and Decatur road.

When the division arrived at Athens, Forrest was crossing the Tennessee at Florence, retreating out of our way as fast as possible. With rapid marches General Morgan reached Florence in two days, distant from Athens about forty-five miles. The creeks and rivers on the route were swollen, but he never stopped for them, for wading through, we went plodding on. The division arrived within a few miles of Florence on the evening of the 5th of October, and entered it on the 6th without opposition, the enemy having completed his crossing. The division could follow no further, and on the morning of the 10th began its return march, arriving back in Athens on the 12th, where it boarded the cars on its return to Chattanooga. The command arrived at Chattanooga in the night of the 14th, and went into camp where there was neither wood nor water. The march from Athens to Florence and back again was, under the circumstances, probably the severest the Eighty-sixth Regiment ever made; at least, it stands among the hardest. The rains fell in torrents, but notwithstanding, the command was rushed headlong on through the mad waters of Flint and Duck rivers, in many places up to the soldier’s armpits.

While the division remained in Chattanooga there was a deal of excitement and uncertainty respecting the movements of rebel General Hood, who was making a demonstration on our rear, the command being in readiness to march at a moment’s notice.

General Sherman, however, soon changed his course, so that Hood was obliged to take a circuitous route to the west and north. To follow Hood indefinitely, without much prospect of overtaking and overwhelming his army, would be for Sherman equivalent to being decoyed out of Georgia. To remain on the defensive, on the other hand, would be to lose the main effectiveness of his army. Sherman had previously proposed to General Grant to destroy the railway from Atlanta to Chattanooga, and strike out through Georgia.

“By attempting to hold the roads,” he wrote, “we will lose a thousand men monthly, and will gain no result.” And again, “Hood may turn into Tennessee and Kentucky, but I believe he will be forced to follow me. Instead of being on the defensive I would be on the offensive. Instead of guessing at what he means, he would have to guess at my plans. I prefer to march through Georgia, smashing things, to the sea.” And again, “When you hear I am off, have lookouts at Morris’ Island, S.C.; Ossabaw Sound, Georgia; Pensacola and Mobile bays. I will turn up somewhere, and believe me I can take Macon, Milledgeville, Augusta, and Savannah, Georgia, and wind up with closing the neck back of Charleston, so that they will starve out. This movement is not purely military or strategic, but it will illustrate the vulnerability of the South.”

General Grant promptly authorized the proposed movement, indicating, however, his preference for Savannah as the objective, and fixing Dalton as the northern limit for the destruction of the railway. Preparations were immediately made for the execution of these plans.

Early on the morning of the 18th, General Morgan marched his division to rejoin the Army of the Cumberland, which at this time lay in reserve at Galesville, Alabama, taking with him a large drove of cattle for army consumption. The division reached the army and joined its corps at 11 A.M. on the 22nd.

Sherman had issued orders for his army to subsist off the country, which it did with a good will, foragers being sent out from the different commands daily. The country round Galesville was wild and romantic, affording that beautiful scenery so peculiar to northern Georgia and Alabama.

The army was soon again put on the move, part of it going with General Thomas, and the remainder, the 14th, 20th, 15th and 17th Corps, going with Sherman down the railway towards Atlanta.

Morgan’s division marched to Rome, where it remained a few days, after which it continued on to Kingston, where it arrived on the 1st of November. At Kingston the army received eight months pay, and a partial supply of clothing, having to wait until it arrived at Atlanta before a complete supply would be issued.

While at Kingston, it will be remembered, the Eighty-sixth Regiment camped on a piece of ground covered with all manner of stones, from the minutest pebble to those that were large enough to make an uneven bed. Again, on the 8th of the month, the division marched on, passing through the ruined Cassville on to Cartersville, where it halted a few days, at one time going to guard the railroad, which did not last long enough to make it pay.

Cartersville is noted for the most remarkable of the monumental remains in the United States. They are situated upon the right bank of the Etowah river near the railroad, some two miles south of the town, in the midst of a perfectly level alluvial bottom, towering above all surrounding objects, changeless amid the revolutions of centuries. On good testimony it has been urged that these mounds were built by a race of people preceding the Indian race. Who they were, and how great that population was, cannot now be determined. No historian has left the record of their manners, government and laws; no voice save that silent speaking testimony of these monuments, proclaims their past greatness. No reply is heard in definite response by those who knock at their tombs. The morning the Eighty-sixth left this place, Billy Longfellow issued rations on the summit of one of these mounds, and the regiment stacked arms along the road near them.

On the morning of the 13th, the 2nd division of the 14th Corps was set in motion from Cartersville toward Atlanta, destroying the railway, founderies, mills, etc., on its route. In not a few instances private dwellings and private property were laid desolate. Previous to this, General Sherman had directed all surplus artillery, all baggage not needed for the contemplated march, all the sick and wounded, refugees and other encumbrances, to be sent back to Chattanooga. On its march to Atlanta the division passed over much of the old campaign ground, which had lost none of its familiarity, seeming as if there had been no lapse of time.

The Kenesaw was natural, and the dreadful battlefield of the 27th of June, where so many of our slain comrades lie buried, and whose graves were yet fresh, had undergone no change except that the leaves had ripened and fallen to the ground. Even as the leaves wither and fall, so must man, and we were made sad in contemplating the fearful, bloody past.

The division crossed the Chattahoochie river in the forenoon of the 15th, and arrived in Atlanta in time to draw clothing, provisions, etc., preparatory to the uncertain actions of the morrow. Atlanta on this occasion seemed to be swallowed up in flames. Bright, lurid lights were seen springing up in every quarter. It seemed that the once proud and defiant city was bidding earth farewell! “But what is now to be done?” every one asks. “Has Sherman gone crazy, sure enough?” Thus people talked, the country over. They could not tell what Sherman was up to now. He moved out from Atlanta on the 16th of November into the darkness and wilderness of Dixie, leaving the good folks at home to wonder where Sherman had gone. But several weeks elapsed before the secret was divulged before the lost hero rose up in the magic of his might on the great seaboard.