today from Atlanta to Chattanooga. Everything that had been deemed unnecessary for the coming operation had been shipped out: camp supplies, animals, people. “It would astonish you to see what the government is doing here in the way of rail roading,” a Michigan soldier in Cartersville wrote his siblings. “As many as seventy-five or a hundred trains of cars pass here every twenty-four hours and every train loaded to its utmost capacity.” A Minnesota infantryman passing through the town remembered seeing “several trains of cattle cars loaded with women, children, household goods, female slaves, etc., all piled indiscriminately together. Even the tops of the cars were covered with black faces pointed toward the North and liberty.”
The forces Sherman had designated for his grand movement into Georgia were gradually converging on Atlanta. Out about sixty-five miles to the northwest were most of the Fifteenth and Fourteenth army corps. Already there were indications of what was to come as squads continued work that had begun on November 10, destroying anything of military usefulness in Rome, Kingston, Cartersville, and points in between. “The Railroad Depots[,] Foundry and every thing of value to the enemy in Rome was destroyed,” noted an Ohio soldier. Other, nonmilitary buildings were torched too, “the work of rowdy soldiers.” “The light of the conflagration gave the skies a brilliant effect,that was visible many miles distant,” reported a correspondent for the Cincinnati Daily Commercial, presumably keeping a low profile. An Indiana boy recalled that his regiment “passed Cartersville and burned both it and Kingston. The rations stored in the latter place was issued out to the men and the depot fired.” This soldier, who had participated in his share of bloody fighting, was glad to see a hard hand applied to southern civilians. “I think forbearance has long ago ceased to be a virtue,” he said.
Closer to Atlanta the Seventeenth Corps was spread out in encampments around Marietta, while the Twentieth Corps was posted throughout the city itself. There, Sherman’s chief engineer, Captain Orlando M. Poe, received the orders he had been expecting to begin destroying the city’s “railroads, depots, steam machinery, &c.” Poe wrote that “Sherman directed me to proceed with my work, but to be careful not to use fire, which would endanger other buildings than those set apart for destruction.” A New York officer out for a ride watched a “detail of men [who] were at work tearing down the large railroad building; another squad were tearing down a large brick school building; others were tearing up railroads.” A different observer, a New Jersey quartermaster, approved “knocking things to pieces generally and making the old Gate City of the South rather untenable for any Army to hold or manufacture in.”
Even as buildings were being felled, amusements were still under way. An Illinois soldier working as a clerk went to one of Atlanta’s theaters that evening. The show he saw “opened with a grand overture by a Brass Band followed by musical performances by the leader of the Band, upon a fiddle and drum. Then came a comic song from ‘perfect used up man’ who promises that whenever he gets up again he’ll stay up if he can. Then a patriotic and sentimental song by a trio of soldiers, and last but not least a Pantomime entitled ‘The Lovers Serenade.’” This final piece featured a mother and her two daughters whose notoriety stemmed from a scarcity of supply: they were among the last women left in Atlanta. The bored soldier’s review: “Did not expect to see much and wasn’t disappointed.”
Other soldiers amused themselves trying to guess what was in the wind. “Perhaps I may prove to be a false prophet,” ventured a Michigan man, “but everything indicates that this part of the country is to be abandoned by our forces.” “It is very evident that some great movementis at hand,”
The forces Sherman had designated for his grand movement into Georgia were gradually converging on Atlanta. Out about sixty-five miles to the northwest were most of the Fifteenth and Fourteenth army corps. Already there were indications of what was to come as squads continued work that had begun on November 10, destroying anything of military usefulness in Rome, Kingston, Cartersville, and points in between. “The Railroad Depots[,] Foundry and every thing of value to the enemy in Rome was destroyed,” noted an Ohio soldier. Other, nonmilitary buildings were torched too, “the work of rowdy soldiers.” “The light of the conflagration gave the skies a brilliant effect,that was visible many miles distant,” reported a correspondent for the Cincinnati Daily Commercial, presumably keeping a low profile. An Indiana boy recalled that his regiment “passed Cartersville and burned both it and Kingston. The rations stored in the latter place was issued out to the men and the depot fired.” This soldier, who had participated in his share of bloody fighting, was glad to see a hard hand applied to southern civilians. “I think forbearance has long ago ceased to be a virtue,” he said.
Closer to Atlanta the Seventeenth Corps was spread out in encampments around Marietta, while the Twentieth Corps was posted throughout the city itself. There, Sherman’s chief engineer, Captain Orlando M. Poe, received the orders he had been expecting to begin destroying the city’s “railroads, depots, steam machinery, &c.” Poe wrote that “Sherman directed me to proceed with my work, but to be careful not to use fire, which would endanger other buildings than those set apart for destruction.” A New York officer out for a ride watched a “detail of men [who] were at work tearing down the large railroad building; another squad were tearing down a large brick school building; others were tearing up railroads.” A different observer, a New Jersey quartermaster, approved “knocking things to pieces generally and making the old Gate City of the South rather untenable for any Army to hold or manufacture in.”
Even as buildings were being felled, amusements were still under way. An Illinois soldier working as a clerk went to one of Atlanta’s theaters that evening. The show he saw “opened with a grand overture by a Brass Band followed by musical performances by the leader of the Band, upon a fiddle and drum. Then came a comic song from ‘perfect used up man’ who promises that whenever he gets up again he’ll stay up if he can. Then a patriotic and sentimental song by a trio of soldiers, and last but not least a Pantomime entitled ‘The Lovers Serenade.’” This final piece featured a mother and her two daughters whose notoriety stemmed from a scarcity of supply: they were among the last women left in Atlanta. The bored soldier’s review: “Did not expect to see much and wasn’t disappointed.”
Other soldiers amused themselves trying to guess what was in the wind. “Perhaps I may prove to be a false prophet,” ventured a Michigan man, “but everything indicates that this part of the country is to be abandoned by our forces.” “It is very evident that some great movementis at hand,”
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