On May 7 Major General William T. Sherman began his campaign in northern Georgia by advancing toward Dalton along the railroad line from Chattanooga to Atlanta. Sherman commanded about 100,000 men, divided among the Army of the Cumberland (60,000) under Major General George H. Thomas, the Army of the Tennessee (25,000) under Major General James B. McPherson, and the Army of the Ohio (13,000) under Major General John M. Schofield. He was opposed by General Joseph E. Johnston, who commanded about 50,000 men in the Army of Tennessee. While Thomas and Schofield probed the Confederate defenses on Rocky Face Ridge west of Dalton, Sherman sent McPherson on a flanking march to the south toward the railroad at Resaca. When McPherson failed to take the town, Sherman began moving the rest of his army south as well, forcing Johnston to retreat from Dalton to Resaca on the night of May 12. Major James A. Connolly had served with the 123rd Illinois Infantry before joining the staff of Absalom Baird, commander of the Third Division, Fourteenth Corps, in the Army of the Cumberland.
Near Resaca, Ga., May 15, 1864.
Dear wife:
Just as I had written the date above, I said: “Hello, the enemy are shelling us.” This exclamation was called out by the fact of a shell from the enemy’s battery exploding very near our headquarters. It is now about nine o’clock at night, the moon is shining with a misty light through the battle smoke that is slowly settling down like a curtain, over these hills and valleys; the mournful notes of a whippoorwill, near by, mingle in strange contrast with the exultant shouts of our soldiers— the answering yells of the rebels—the rattling fire of the skirmish line, and the occasional bursting of a shell. To-day we have done nothing but shift positions and keep up a heavy skirmish fire. Yesterday our Division and Judah’s Division of Scofield’s Corps, had some hard fighting. We drove the enemy about a mile and entirely within his fortifications, several of our regiments planting their colors on his fortifications, but were compelled to withdraw under a terrible fire. We, however, fell back but a short distance to the cover of the woods, where we still are, and the enemy have not ventured outside their works since. A report has just reached us that Hooker drove the enemy about a mile to-day. We will probably be engaged to-morrow, and we may be engaged yet to-night, for the enemy may take a notion to come out of his works under cover of the darkness, and attack us. I hope he wont, for I don’t want to be disturbed after I get to sleep, and then I don’t like fighting in the night anyhow. We have men enough here to whip Johnston, and if he don’t escape pretty soon he never will. I presume “you all,” as the Southern people say, feel very much elated over Grant’s success. Well, you will hear something from this army, some of these days that will be a full match for anything Grant or any other man can do with the Potomac army, and I begin to have hope that the only large armies of the rebellion will be shattered, if not destroyed, by the 4th of July. We have the railroad in running order to Tilton, which is several miles south of Dalton, and are having no trouble about supplies. The weather is fine, the roads fairly good, our men flushed with success, and I hope we push right on, day and night, though we be ragged, dirty, tired and hungry, until we exterminate these battalions of treason. Good night.
Your husband.
Kingston, Ga., May 20, 1864.
Dear wife:
If you will look at a map you will see that “we all” are still pushing southward, but a look at the map will give you little idea of the country we are passing through—will fail to point out to you the fields that are being reddened by the blood of our soldiers, and the hundreds of little mounds that are rising by the wayside day by day, as if to mark the footprints of the God of War as he stalks along through this beautiful country. This point is where the railroad from Rome forms a junction with the main line from Chattanooga to Atlanta. Rome is in our possession, and such has been the extraordinary rapidity with which the railroad has been repaired, as we have pushed along, that a train from Chattanooga ran into Kingston this morning about daylight, while at the same time a rebel train from Atlanta was whistling on the same road, and only two miles distant, but it is now about 9 o’clock in the morning, and the last whistle of the rebel train, north of the Etowah River, sounded some hours ago, the last rebel has undoubtedly crossed the river, the bridge across the river has been burned, I suppose, and the rebel army is wending its way, weary and dispirited, toward that mythical ditch of which we have heard so much.
Two hours later. Just at this point in this pencilled letter, about two hours ago I was interrupted, and the whole Division startled, by a cavalryman rushing up to headquarters, his horse covered with foam, and reporting that he had just seen the rebels, in line of battle, about one fourth of a mile distant, and advancing on us. In a jiffy this unfinished letter was thrust in my pocket, my horse saddled, and I was ordered by the General to go back with the cavalryman the way he had come, and ascertain the truth of his report, for cavalry reports are much like rebel money—don’t pass at their face value. I went out through our pickets and cautiously moved along until I had gone about a mile to the front when I came to a strong line of breastworks, constructed by the rebels last night, but this morning they are deserted. I crossed these breastworks and went on until I came to another line of works, but they too are deserted this morning. I crossed this second line and went on a short distance, when I saw some mounted rebels ahead and they saw me; they fired a couple of shots which fell far short, and seeing I was out of their reach, I stood still with my cavalryman, but the rebs started toward me, and, not wishing to have a difficulty with them, I “fell back in good order” until they fired again, set up a yell and started after me on a run when I accelerated the pace of my “Rosinante” and advanced to the rear at a rapid pace and got safely inside our picket line; the cavalryman who accompanied me dodged off to one side and hid in the brush when the chase began. He came in a few moments ago, all right, but is not able to explain why he made his scare report. I reported to the General and all is quiet again, but if you find this letter all crumpled up, remember I had it in its unfinished state in my pocket during that chase, and as I can’t get at my desk, paper is scarce, and I can’t afford to begin it again. Beautiful country, beautiful weather, and everything going well with the Yankees in Georgia. You may still address me at Ringgold.
Your husband.