ated
that there was great rejoicing in Atlanta "that the Yankees were
gone;" the fact was telegraphed all over the South, and several
trains of cars (with ladies) came up from Macon to assist in the
celebration of their grand victory.

On the 28th (making a general left-wheel, pivoting on Schofield)
both Thomas and Howard reached the West Point Railroad, extending
from East Point to Red-Oak Station and Fairburn, where we spent the
next day (29th) in breaking it up thoroughly. The track was heaved
up in sections the length of a regiment, then separated rail by
rail; bonfires were made of the ties and of fence-rails on which
the rails were heated, carried to trees or telegraph-poles, wrapped
around and left to cool. Such rails could not be used again; and,
to be still more certain, we filled up many deep cuts with trees,
brush, and earth, and commingled with them loaded shells, so
arranged that they would explode on an attempt to haul out the
bushes. The explosion of one such shell would have demoralized a
gang of negroes, and thus would have prevented even the attempt to
clear the road.

Meantime Schofield, with the Twenty-third Corps, presented a bold
front toward East Point, daring and inviting the enemy to sally out
to attack him in position. His first movement was on the 30th, to
Mount Gilead Church, then to Morrow's Mills, facing Rough and
Ready. Thomas was on his right, within easy support, moving by
cross-roads from Red Oak to the Fayetteville road, extending from
Couch's to Renfrew's; and Howard was aiming for Jonesboro.

I was with General Thomas that day, which was hot but otherwise
very pleasant. We stopped for a short noon-rest near a little
church (marked on our maps as Shoal-Creek Church), which stood back
about a hundred yards from the road, in a grove of native oaks.
The infantry column had halted in the road, stacked their arms, and
the men were scattered about--some lying in the shade of the trees,
and others were bringing corn-stalks from a large corn-field across
the road to feed our horses, while still others had arms full of
the roasting-ears, then in their prime. Hundreds of fires were
soon started with the fence-rails, and the men were busy roasting
the ears. Thomas and I were walking up and down the road which led
to the church, discussing the chances of the movement, which he
thought were extra-hazardous, and our path carried us by a fire at
which a soldier was roasting his corn. T