In south-western Tennessee, the Northerners soon learned that the Rebel Army of Tennessee was on the move. Surprisingly, although the move had been expected for weeks, the Union forces were not well-placed to meet it. George Thomas already had at least as many troops as the Confederates' 40,000, but they were spread out. Some were in garrisons protecting key bridges or depots, at least a quarter were in Nashville still being organized and trained, and the largest number were in a group under Major-General John Schofield at Pulaski.
Belatedly, the Federals realized what the Southerners were aiming for: to cut off this body and destroy it, and then wipe out the remaining obstacles and take Nashville. Schofield gave the orders for the outlying garrisons to fall back to the north, and then started his own forces on the retreat.
The day before, Union cavalry had "demonstrated" on the outskirts of Macon, Georgia, to fool the Confederates into thinking Sherman was moving south-west towards Andersonville. (At this point, the Northern prisoners had been removed from Andersonville and shipped east, to prevent just such an attempt.) Hoping to strike a blow at the Yankee troopers, the Southerners scraped together a force of militia and pursued. They met at a place called Griswoldville, for the Federal horsemen had stopped to link up with a brigade of friendly infantry.
The odds still seemed in favor of the Confederates, for their combined force of 4,500 men outnumbered the Union troops by three to one. But most of the militia had been assembled by "robbing the cradle and the grave", putting old men and young teenagers into the ranks. The Yankees, on the other hand, were by this time among the most experienced soldiers in the world, and they were equipped with Spencer and Henry repeating rifles. And they had not neglected to put up defenses, so they fought behind a barricade of logs and fence rails. There was nothing wrong with the Rebels' courage, though their tactics were poor; they formed up and charged the Northerners straight on three times, each time being stopped by withering fire. The Confederate general would later claim he had been fighting an entire division instead of a brigade. At last, after taking over 600 casualties, the Southerners retreated. The Union had lost only a tenth as many.
As was customary, the Northerners advanced onto the battlefield to gather up arms, equipment, and battle-flags. Their elation at their victory turned to shock when they realized the ages of their enemies, now fallen on the field. An Illinois infantryman would later write in a letter to home, "I was never so affected at the sight of dead and wounded before. I hope we will never have to shoot at such men again. They knew nothing at all about fighting and I think their officers knew as little." The man's wish was fulfilled, for it would be the only substantial infantry clash of the campaign.
Map by Hal Jespersen, www.cwmaps.com
Sherman himself would not learn of the battle for at least another day, for he was closing on the state capital:
[font="Times New Roman"]...about 4 p.m., General Davis had halted his head of column on a wooded ridge, overlooking an extensive slope of cultivated country, about ten miles short of Milledgeville, and was deploying his troops for camp when I got up. There was a high, raw wind blowing, and I asked him why he had chosen so cold and bleak a position. He explained that he had accomplished his full distance for the day, and had there an abundance of wood and water. He explained further that his advance-guard was a mile or so ahead; so I rode on, asking him to let his rear division, as it came up, move some distance ahead into the depression or valley beyond. Riding on some distance to the border of a plantation, I turned out of the main road into a cluster of wild-plum bushes, that broke the force of the cold November wind, dismounted, and instructed the staff to pick out the place for our camp.
The afternoon was unusually raw and cold. My orderly was at hand with his invariable saddle-bags, which contained a change of under-clothing, my maps, a flask of whiskey, and bunch of cigars. Taking a drink and lighting a cigar, I walked to a row of negro-huts close by, entered one and found a soldier or two warming themselves by a wood-fire. I took their place by the fire, intending to wait there till our wagons had got up, and a camp made for the night. I was talking to the old negro woman, when some one came and explained to me that, if I would come farther down the road, could find a better place. So I started on foot, and found on the main road a good double-hewed-log house, in one room of which Colonel Poe, Dr. Moore, and others, had started a fire. I sent back orders to the "plum-bushes" to bring our horses and saddles up to this house, and an orderly to conduct our headquarter wagons to the same place. In looking around the room, I saw a small box, like a candle-box, marked "Howell Cobb," and, on inquiring of a negro, found that we were at the plantation of General Howell Cobb, of Georgia, one of the leading rebels of the South, then a general in the Southern army, and who had been Secretary of the United States Treasury in Mr. Buchanan's time. Of course, we confiscated his property, and found it rich in corn, beans, peanuts, and sorghum-molasses. Extensive fields were all round the house; I sent word back to General Davis to explain whose plantation it was, and instructed him to spare nothing. That night huge bonfires consumed the fence-rails, kept our soldiers warm, and the teamsters and men, as well as the slaves, carried off an immense quantity of corn and provisions of all sorts.
In due season the headquarter wagons came up, and we got supper. After supper I sat on a chair astride, with my back to a good fire, musing, and became conscious that an old negro, with a tallow- candle in his hand, was scanning my face closely . . . I asked him why he trembled so, and he said that he wanted to be sure that we were in fact "Yankees," for on a former occasion some rebel cavalry had put on light-blue overcoats, personating Yankee troops, and many of the negroes were deceived thereby, himself among the number had shown them sympathy, and had in consequence been unmercifully beaten therefor. This time he wanted to be certain before committing himself; so I told him to go out on the porch, from which he could see the whole horizon lit up with camp-fires, and he could then judge whether he had ever seen any thing like it before. The old man became convinced that the "Yankees" had come at last, about whom he had been dreaming his whole life . . .
[center]--Memoirs of General W. T. Sherman[/center][/font]
