Western Confederate genius was now engaged in wrestling with the destruction of Sherman’s lines of communication. It was one hundred and fifty-two miles from Chattanooga, the real base of Sherman’s supplies, to Atlanta. Bridges and trestles were numerous, and against these again and again Confederate ingenuity exhausted its power and its enterprise. Sherman was dreaming of a march to the sea. Hood, who succeeded Johnston, was dreaming of flank movements and marches to the rear, and while these leaders were figuring and counting the cost, upon the cavalrymen was laid the heaviest burdens of conflict. Former conditions had now been reversed. In the earlier stages of the War, the Federals were chiefly solicitous to repel cavalry incursions and raids, but now the Confederates were to swap jobs and thwart Federal assaults on lines of communication. This put upon the Confederates increased vigilance and demanded of them that they should make military bricks without the straw necessary to their manufacture.
The proper care of horses was now an important part of the martial regime. If the men were thoughtless enough to overburden their mounts, experience and necessity told the officers, responsible for results, that these details must be watched, and higher authority must intervene to protect the animals, now even as necessary as men in the operations of the hour.
On August 9th, 1864, an order was issued looking to a most rigid enforcement of this sane and wise regulation. No officer of any grade or any soldier was allowed to carry any article outside of his gun and his cartridge box, other than a single blanket and one oil cloth. Naught but something to warm the body and protect the skin would be tolerated, and once, every day on the march, inspection was a part of every officer’s duty for the enforcement of this requirement. Ordnance wagons, caissons and ambulances were subjected to the same close scrutiny and the immediate destruction of all contraband was the stern and irrevocable order of General Wheeler.
General Hood was feeling the constant and relentless pressure of General Sherman around Atlanta. Wheeler and Forrest were his only reliance to lessen the hold that was silently but surely throttling the life of the Army of the Tennessee. Something must be done to relieve this acute situation and to Wheeler and Forrest, Hood appealed in the extreme hour asking if they could not cut off or shorten Sherman’s supplies. If they could compel him to withdraw some thousands of his men, there might yet be a chance. Without these, it could only be a question of days, mayhap with good fortune, weeks. No one could foretell what a brief span might bring forth, and so, catching at faintest hope, these two wondrous cavalry soldiers were to take another turn at the wheel.
It was believed by General Hood, and in this General Forrest concurred, that if Wheeler could pass around Sherman’s army, tear up the railroad north of Atlanta, then reaching to Chattanooga, force a passage of the Tennessee River, swing around towards Knoxville and thence down into Middle Tennessee and assail Nashville and wreck the railroads between Nashville and Chattanooga, this, accompanied by Forrest’s assailment of the lines in Western Tennessee and Southwestern Kentucky, would, if it was within the lines of human possibilities, loosen Sherman’s hold on Hood’s throat.
General Wheeler had concentrated four thousand men at Covington, Ga., forty miles south of Atlanta. The best horses were selected. They were shod and fitted by every means at hand to enter upon one of the most wearying marches of the War. They would perforce rely on some captures of steeds. The Confederate cavalry never failed to count on the United States government to supply a full share of their wants, when thus in need. With the long, long tramps ahead, there were even some dismounted men who resolved to go on this expedition, willing to take the risk of capture, believing that the uncertainties of war and the certainties of striking some loose Federal cavalry force would stand them well in hand, and give them earth’s now richest treasure, a horse. The warrior of old had cried out, “My kingdom for a horse,” but these dejected and bereft horsemen were putting a higher value on such a priceless gift, and were placing their lives in the balance, to win, if mayhap they might win, the coveted prize.
General Hood had calculated that if Wheeler could safely trust to capture food and ammunition, that surely he would break Sherman’s line, and that inevitably Sherman must pay not only some, but much heed to this active, devastating force in his rear.
No extended rations were allowed to go. A blanket and gum coat blanket were all the baggage permitted except a loose horseshoe and a frying pan. It required only the cooking of some water-softened cornmeal, made into soggy bread, to supply immediate wants.
The Confederate horsemen had long since learned the full import of the petition of the Lord’s prayer, “Give us this day our daily bread.” He had shortened it up to say, “Give us one square meal”; and he laid down on the wet or hard ground, covered his face with his worn hat or tattered blanket, and let no thought of the next meal disturb his dreamless sleep.
Starting on this long journey, General Wheeler swung eastwardly to avoid, as far as possible, Federal interruption. In less than twenty-four hours, he began to let his enemies know that he was in the saddle. He struck the railroad near Marietta, Ga., and proceeded to wreck it for miles. He and his followers were hungry. Their larder was empty. They felt certain that Sherman’s supply trains were on the march between Chattanooga and Atlanta. Their horses needed corn, their bodies needed food, and they resolved to apply the old doctrine of “He takes who may; he keeps who can.” A long train of cars was captured, but men and their horses could not eat engines and cars. Then came the comforting message, through friendly sympathizers, that a long wagon train, well guarded, was on the highway a little farther north. This glad news quickened hope and cheered body and soul. A short distance away, a great vision crossed their gaze. When it first stood out upon the horizon, the weary troopers rubbed their eyes, pinched their tired limbs, to discover if they beheld a mirage, or was it real things that loomed across their perspective. The men first saw horses and mules, as if trees walking. The white tops of the commissary schooners, led horses, trailing mules, and a vast horde of driven beeves moving southward, headed for Sherman’s headquarters, developed into a reality. The only drawback was men in blue, some riding, many tramping alongside the wagons. All of these carried guns, and they had special orders to kill all who attempted to take these things from their custody. Necessity is a great incentive, and the Confederates, with patriotism and hunger impelling, without preliminary proceedings, made vigorous assault on the custodians of what to those attacking was the equal of life itself. The odds were against the Confederates, but these had so much at stake that the issue could not long be doubtful. They went after their enemies with such dash and determination that the guards soon fled and left to them the possession of the wagons, the beeves, the horses, the mules and great stores of good things to eat. The cravings of nature were quickly met, but, as with hands full, riders supplied their own bodies, bits were removed from the mouths of the faithful steeds, and with greatest dispatch a bountiful supply of shelled corn and oats was spread upon the ground before the enraptured vision of the jaded steeds. The lowing, restless cattle were corralled by the new masters. Doomed to an early death, it made but little odds whether they fed men who were clad in blue or gray.