194 March to the Sea (1864)
On the 12th of November the railroad and telegraph communications with the rear were broken and the army stood detached from all friends, dependent on its own resources and supplies. The Strength of the army, as officially reported, shows an aggregate of fifty-five thousand three hundred and twenty-nine infantry, five thousand and sixty-three cavalry, and eighteen hundred and twelve artillery. In all, sixty-two thousand two hundred and four officers and men. The most extraordinary efforts had been made to purge this army of non-combatants and of sick men, so that all on this exhibit may be assumed to have been able-bodied, experienced soldiers, well armed, well equipped and provided as far as human foresight could with all the essentials of life, strength, and vigorous action.
The two general orders made for this march appear to me so clear, emphatic, and well-digested that no account of that historic event is perfect without them and, though they called for great sacrifice and labor on the part of the officers and men, I insist that these orders were obeyed as well as any similar orders ever were by an army operating wholly in an enemy’s country and dispersed as we necessarily were, during the subsequent period of nearly six months.
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. 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 Macon 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.
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 22nd and could see the copse of wood where McPherson fell. Behind us lay Atlanta, smoldering and in ruins, the black smoke rising high in air and hanging like a pall over the mined 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.
The first night out we camped by the roadside near Lithonia. 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 crossties 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.
We found abundance of corn, molasses, meal, bacon, and sweet potatoes. We also took a good many cows and oxen, and a large number of mules. In all these the country was quite rich, never before having been visited by a hostile army. The recent crop had been excellent, had been just gathered and laid by for the winter. As a rule we destroyed none, but kept our wagons full and fed our teams bountifully. The skill and success of the men in collecting forage was one of the features of this march. Each brigade commander had authority to detail a company of foragers, usually about fifty men with one or two commissioned officers selected for their boldness and enterprise. This party would be dispatched before daylight with a knowledge of the intended day’s march and camp; would proceed on foot five or six miles from the route traveled by their brigade and then visit every plantation and farm within range. They would usually procure a wagon or family carriage, load it with bacon, cornmeal, turkeys, chickens, ducks, and everything that could be used as food or forage and would then regain the main road, usually in advance of their train. When this came up, they would deliver to the brigade commissary the supplies thus gathered by the way. Often would I pass these foraging-parties at the roadside, waiting for their wagons to come up, and was amused at their strange collections: mules, horses, even cattle, packed with old saddles and loaded with hams, bacon, bags of cornmeal, and poultry of every character and description. Although this foraging was attended with great danger and hard work, there seemed to be a charm about it that attracted the soldiers and it was a privilege to be detailed on such a party. Daily they returned mounted on all sorts of beasts, which were at once taken from them and appropriated to the general use. But the next day they would start out again on foot, only to repeat the experience of the day before. No doubt many acts of pillage, robbery, and violence, were committed by these parties of foragers, usually called “bummers”. For I have since heard of jewelry taken from women and the plunder of articles that never reached the commissary. But these acts were exceptional and incidental. No army could have carried along sufficient food and forage for a march of three hundred miles, so that foraging in some shape was necessary. By it our men were well supplied with all the essentials of life and health, while the wagons retained enough in case of unexpected delay and our animals were well fed. Indeed, when we reached Savannah the trains were pronounced by experts to be the finest in flesh and appearance ever seen with any army.
November 23rd we rode into Milledgeville, the capital of the State, whither the Twentieth Corps had preceded us. And during that day the left wing was all united in and around Milledgeville. The first stage of the journey was therefore complete and absolutely successful. I was in Milledgeville with the left wing and was in full communication with the right wing at Gordon. The people of Milledgeville remained at home, except the Governor (Brown), the State officers, and Legislature who had ignominiously fled in the utmost disorder and confusion.
Meantime orders were made for the total destruction of the arsenal and its contents and of such public buildings as could be easily converted to hostile uses. Meantime the right wing continued its movement along the railroad toward Savannah, tearing up the track and destroying its iron. Kilpatrick’s cavalry was brought into Milledgeville and crossed the Oconee by the bridge near the town, and on the 23rd I made the general orders for the next stage of the march as far as Millen.
Source: General William Tecumseh Sherman, Memoirs (1875), II, 171-90. https://archive.org/details/americanhistoryt00ivunse/page/428/mode/2up
