The start in the morning. "At three o'clock the watch-fires are burning dimly, and, but for the occasional neighing of horses, all is so silent that it is difficult to imagine that twenty thousand men are within a radius of a few miles. The ripple of the brook can be distinctly heard as it breaks over the pebbles, or winds petulantly about the gnarled roots. The wind, sweeping gently through the tall pines overhead, only serves to lull to deeper repose the slumbering soldier, who in his tent is dreaming of his far-off Northern home. "But in an instant all is changed. From some commanding elevation the clear-toned bugle sounds out the reveillé, and another and another responds, until the startled echoes double and treble the clar ion calls. Intermingled with this comes the beating of drums, often rattling and jarring on unwilling ears. In a few moments the peaceful quiet is replaced by noise and tumult, arising from hill and dale, from field and forest. Camp-fires, hitherto extinct, or smoldering in dull, gray ashes, awaken to new life and brilliancy, and send forth their sparks high into the morning air. Although no gleam of sunshine blushes in the east, the harmless flames on every side light up the scene, so that there is no disorder or confusion. "The æsthetic aspects of this sudden change do not, however, occupy much of the soldier's time. He is more practically engaged in getting his breakfast ready. The potatoes are frying nicely in the well-larded pan, the chicken is roasting delicately on the red-hot coals, and grateful fumes from steaming coffee-pots delight the nostrils. The animals are not less busy. An ample supply of corn and huge piles of fodder are greedily devoured by these faithful friends of the boys in blue, and any neglect is quickly made known by the pawing of neighing horses and the braying of the mules. Amid all this is the busy clatter of tongues and tools-a Babel of sounds, forming a contrast to the quiet of the previous hour as marked as that between peace and war. "Then the animals are hitched into the traces, and the droves of cattle relieved from the night's confinement in the corral. Knapsacks are strapped, men seize their trusty weapons, and, as again the bugles sound the note of command, the soldiers fall into line, and file out upon the road to make another stage of their journey. "A day's march varies according to the country to be traversed or the opposition encountered. If the map indicates a stream crossing the path, probably the strong party of mounted infantry or of cavalry which has been sent forward the day before has found the bridges burned, and then the pontoons are pushed on to the front. If a battle is anticipated, the trains are shifted to the rear of the centre. Under any circumstances, the divisions having the lead move unencumbered by wagons, and in close fighting trim. The ambulances following in the rear of the division are in such close proximity as to be available if needed. In the rear of each regiment follow the pack-mules, laden with every kind of camp-baggage, including blankets, pots, pans, kettles, and all the kitchen-ware needed for cooking. Here will be found the led horses, and with them the negro servants, who form an important feature of the ménage. the road. "Having placed the column upon the road, let us now follow that The columns upon long line of muskets gleaming in the rays of the morning sunlight, and ride, heedless of the crack of the rifles, to the head of the column. The advance are driving a squad of rebel cavalry before them so fast that the march is not in the least impeded. The flankers spread out on a line parallel to the leading troops for several hundred yards, more or less, as the occasion may require. They search through the swamps and forests ready for any concealed foe, and anxiously looking out for any line of works which may have been thrown up by the enemy to check our progress. A Collection of large plantation appears by the roadside. If the supplies. 'bummers' have been ahead, the chances are that it has been visited, in which event the interior is apt to show evidences of confusion; but the barns are full of corn and fodder, and parties are at once detailed to secure and convey the prize to the roadside. As the wagons pass along they are not allowed to halt, but the grain or fodder is stuffed into the front or rear of the vehicles as they pass, the unhandy operation affording much amusement to the soldiers, and not infrequently giving them a poor excuse for swearing as well as laughing. 66 When the treasure-trove of grain, and poultry, and vegetables has been secured, one man is detailed to guard it until the proper wagon comes along. Numbers of these details will be met, who, with proper authority, have started off early in the morning, and have struck out miles away from the flank of the column. They sit at some crossroad surrounded with their spoils-chickens, turkeys, geese, ducks, pigs, hogs, sheep, calves nicely dressed, hams, baskets full of honey, and pots of fresh white lard. the roads. "There is a halt in the column. The officer in charge of the pioCorduroying of neer corps, which follows the advance guard, has discovered an ugly place in the road, which must be corduroyed at once before the wagons can pass. The pioneer corps quickly tear down the fence near by, and bridge over the treacherous place, perhaps at the rate of a quarter of a mile in fifteen minutes. If rails are not near, pine saplings and split logs supply their place. Meanwhile the bugles have sounded, and the column has halted. The soldiers drop out of the line on the roadside, lying upon their backs, supported by their still unstrapped knapsacks. If the halt is a long one, the different regiments march by file right, one behind the other, into the fields, stacking their muskets, and taking their rest at ease, released from their knapsacks. "These short halts are of great benefit to the soldier: he gains a breathing-spell; has a chance to wipe the perspiration from his brow and the dust out of his eyes, or pulls off his shoes and stockings to cool his swollen, heated feet, though old campaigners do not feel the need of this; he munches his bit of hard bread, or pulls out a book from his pocket, or oftener a pipe, to indulge in that greatest of luxuries to a soldier, a soothing, refreshing smoke. Here may be seen one group at a brook-side, bathing their heads and drinking; and another, crowded round an old song-book, are making very fair music; one venturesome fellow has kindled a fire, and is brewing a cup of coffee. All are happy and jolly; but when the bugle sounds 'fall in,'attention,' and 'forward,' in an instant every temporary occupa tion is dropped, and they are on the road again. "But the sun has long since passed the zenith; the droves of catPreparations for tle, which have been driven through the swamps and halting at night. fields, are lowing and wandering in search of a corral; the soldiers are beginning to lag a little; the teamsters are obliged to apply the whip oftener; 10 or 15 miles have been traversed, and the designated halting-place for the night is near. The column must now be got into camp. "Officers ride on in advance to select the point for each brigade, giving the preference to slopes in the vicinity of wood and water. Soon the troops file out into the woods and fields, the leading division pitching tents first, those in the rear marching on yet farther, ready to take their turn in the advance next day. "As soon as the arms are stacked, the boys attack the fences and rail-piles, and with incredible swiftness their little shelter-tents spring up all over the ground. The fires are kindled with equal celerity, and the luxurious repast is prepared. After this is heard the music of dancing or singing, the pleasant buzz of conversation, and the measured sound of reading. The wagons, meanwhile, are parked, and the animals fed. Evening amuse- the biy "By-and-by the tattoo rings out on the night air. Its familiar sound is understood. Go, to rest, go to rest,' it says as plainly as organs of human speech. "Shortly after follows the peremptory command of 'taps'-'out lights, out lights.' The soldier gradually disappears from the campfire; rolled snugly in his blanket, he dreams again of home. The animals, with dull instinct, lie down to rest. The fires, neglected by the sleeping men, go out, gradually flickering and smouldering, as if unwilling to die. All is quiet-the army is asleep. Perhaps there is a brief interruption to the silence, as some trooper goes clattering down the road on an errand of speed, or some uneasy sleeper turns over to find an easier position. And around the slumbering host the picket-guards keep quiet watch." Railroads of There are two lines of railroad connecting Atlanta with the sea; one terminates at Charleston, 308 miles distant; the other at Savannah, 293 miles distant. The former consists of the Georgia Railroad, 171 miles, connecting Atlanta and Augusta; and of the South Carolina Railroad, connecting Augusta and Charleston, 137 miles. The latter consists of the Western and Macon Road, connecting Atlanta and Macon, 103 miles; and the Central Georgia Road, connecting Macon and Savannah, 190 miles. The two main lines are connected by a cross-road from Augusta to Millen, 53 miles. These roads constituted essential links in the chain of communication between the Atlantic and Gulf States. To destroy them was again to bisect the remnant of the Confederacy, damaging it even more than had been done when it was first bisected by the seizure of the Mississippi River. Their destruction a chief object of the march. We have now to follow the marches of the two wings of the army. We shall see how perfectly the destruction of these railroads was accomplished, and the tract of country between and in the vicinity of them, one of the most fertile and wealthy portions of the South, completely devastated. march. On the 16th of November the march began. The left Itinerary of the wing, under Slocum, marched along the railroad toward Augusta; the right, under Howard, along the Macon Road. Each had cavalry on its flank. Howard, having the 15th Corps on his right, and the 17th on his left, moved along the railroad to Jonesbor |