Breaking the Macon and Western Railroad

During its nearly three years’ service with the Army of the Cumberland, the veterans of the Fourth Army Corps had repeatedly suffered when the Confederates had broken their “cracker lines.” In late August 1864, “Uncle Billy” finally gave the boys a chance to get even when he directed the army to swing around the west side of Atlanta and break the Macon & Western Railroad.

After an all-night march, Captain Wilbur Hinman recalled the relish with which his men dove into the work of destruction. “Language can but faintly describe the scene that ensued as the boys were in high spirits and laughed, yelled, sang, and jested with infinite enjoyment,” he remembered. “The day was hot, and under the scorching sun the sweating and dust-begrimed soldiers pounded, pried, and lifted, tearing up the rails and pulling the ties from the ground. Others were engaged in collecting dry brush and rails and lighting a long row of fires. Merrily the men poked and fed the roaring fires until the ties were destroyed and the rails were red-hot in the middle. The latter were lifted off by strong arms and were quickly put into such condition as to be utterly useless for the railroad. Some, by means of claw bars, were twisted, and doubled up like doughnuts. Others were bent around trees and left to cool.”

Captain Hinman’s vivid description of the march to Jonesboro and the destruction of the Macon & Western was first published in his 1892 book Camp and Field: Sketches of Army Life Written by Those Who Followed the Flag, ’61-’65.

 

Sherman's soldiers pry away at the rails as a first step to destroying a railroad. After the rails were heated, they were bent or twisted into what were known as "Sherman's hairpins" or "Sherman's neckties." 

For nearly six weeks, we lay behind strongly fortified lines at Atlanta. At last, we had struck “something solid,” but every man in that army had an abiding faith that sooner or later Uncle Billy would “git that, Eli.” We dug gopher holes into which we crawled for protection whenever the Rebel artillery began to heave over their surplus iron. We had our regular tricks of duty, by day and night, on the picket line. At many points this was as close to that of the enemy as to make it decidedly unhealthy. The pickets were changed at night to avoid the bullets of the Johnnies. The latter had not a better liking for the missiles of the Yanks and did the same thing.

At length Sherman got tired of sitting idly before the city; he wanted the city and wanted it “bad.”  It was the goal of the long and bloody campaign. He determined not to sacrifice his army by assaulting the strong defenses, crowned with cannons, and bristling with bayonets, and we were all mighty glad of it. We began to expect a grand flank movement and it came. Late in August, the word was given one evening to “fall in” with all our belongings on our backs, ready to march. Orders filtered down from headquarters through the company officers to do everything as quietly as possible. There must be none of the yelling that usually gave a zest to whatever the boys were called upon to do.

Of course, we did not know what was up, but we had long since learned to do as we were told and ask no questions. So, we filled our haversacks with all the hardtack and sow belly they would hold, buckled on our accoutrements, rolled up our blankets and pup tents, threw them over our shoulders, and formed on the color line. Of course, after we were all ready, we had to wait for hours before the order came to pull out- it was always so. We lay around, talking in whispers, ready to spring at the word.

"The boys were in high spirits and laughed, yelled, sang, and jested with infinite enjoyment," Hinman recalled. "As soon as a brigade had finished wrecking in its front, the men fell in, and moved down the road to renew the attack at another point."

It was nearly midnight when we got away. All night, we stumbled through the woods, over stumps and stones, every man following his file leader and wondering what the day would bring forth. In that forest full of brush and brambles, it was literally as dark as the proverbial “stack of black cats.” We pushed on at a rattling gait. It was evident we were going somewhere and every soldier knew, without being told, that we were flanking Atlanta.

"When the army started from Chattanooga early in May, the boys knew they would take Atlanta just because Tecumseh Sherman said they would. Their faith in their leader was something sublime. The boys knew Sherman as far as they could see him by the high, white, standing shirt collar that he always wore. Whenever he rode along the line or upon the flanks of a marching column, he was greeted with yells and shouts that were the best possible index to the feeling that existed toward him in the ranks."  ~ Captain Wilbur F. Hinman, 65th O.V.I.

On and on we tramped, and soon after daylight, some 15 or 20 miles below the city, we struck the railroad which was the chief avenue of supply for the Rebel army at Atlanta. Soldierly instinct told us at once what the job was that Uncle Billy had laid out for us to do. The regiments and brigades of the 4^th Army Corps were drawn up near and parallel with the railroad, the line stretching away for two or three miles. The cavalry was stationed to do picket duty. Batteries were placed in position and guns unlimbered, ready for duty.

“Stack arms-unsling knapsacks, break ranks, march!”

These orders were quickly given to the “walk soldiers.” Sledges, crowbars, and other implements that could be used in the work were distributed and we were just told to “go in.” The boys did go, attacking the railroad with the utmost alacrity. Many a time we had our “cracker line” cut by the Johnnies and this was the first opportunity ever presented for us to get even.

Language can but faintly describe the scene that ensued. The day was hot, and under the scorching sun the sweating and dust-begrimed soldiers pounded, pried, and lifted, tearing up the rails and pulling the ties from the ground. Others were engaged in collecting dry brush and rails and lighting a long row of fires. Merrily the men poked and fed the roaring fires until the ties were destroyed and the rails were red-hot in the middle. The latter were lifted off by strong arms and were quickly put into such condition as to be utterly useless for the railroad. Some, by means of claw bars, were twisted, and doubled up like doughnuts. Others were bent around trees and left to cool.

The boys were in high spirits and laughed, yelled, sang, and jested with infinite enjoyment. The officers, of course, did the heavy standing around and bossing the job while the men did the work. They did it well. As soon as a brigade had finished wrecking in its front, the men fell in, and moved down the road to renew the attack at another point. All day the work of destruction continued and by night, the road for miles and miles was a smoking ruin. The men were thoroughly exhausted for they had marched all the previous night without sleep, but they were happy and as they prepared their frugal suppers around the gleaming bivouac fires, they filled the air with shouts.

 

Source:

Hinman, Wilbur F., Camp and Field: Sketches of Army Life Written by Those Who Followed the Flag, ’61-’65. Cleveland: N.G. Hamilton Publishing Co., 1892, pgs. 408-410