ON TO ATLANTA!
Confidence in our leader--Tunnel Hill and Rocky Face
Mountain--Pursuit of the enemy--Johnston's strategy--In
command of my regiment--Battle near Dallas--Night on the
battle-field--Loss of an officer--Reflections.
With some slight reverses our march up to this time was that of
a victorious army, and the temporary checks we had met with only
served to make us more vigilant for the future. We had the utmost
confidence in our leader, which was justified by almost daily
successes; while that of the rebels in their chief was daily
becoming weaker, in consequence of his failing to make good his
promises by a successful stand. And, indeed, when we gained the
works which he time after time abandoned, we could not but wonder
at the policy which led to the abandonment of works and positions
which we felt we could have held against any army that could have
been brought against us. In our southward march we were able to
understand how it was that the first Napoleon was able to lead
an army across the hitherto impassable Alps--it was by infusing
into every soldier his own inflexible purpose; the same power is
possessed in a high degree by Gen. Sherman; his soldiers think
themselves able to execute whatever he commands.
We began our march with the cry, "On to Atlanta! Tunnel Hill and
Rocky Face Mountain, deemed impregnable, are already ours! Resaca
has fallen into our hands; and there are no difficulties to be
surmounted greater than those we have already overcome. Cheer up,
cheer up, boys! Atlanta shall soon be ours!"
With such feelings as those just expressed, on the morning of the
17th our army moved on in its conquering march, the men all in
fine spirits, and confident of victory whenever the enemy would
hazard a general engagement. We passed through Calhoun at eleven,
A. M.--skirmishing began about three in the afternoon. We drove
the enemy steadily as far as Adairsville, where they had a strong
line of works. We began to throw up intrenchments to protect us
during the night; the rebels began to shell us furiously while
thus engaged; but failing to get the proper range, they did us no
harm--our boys laughing gleefully and working zealously as the
missiles went shrieking over their heads. We expected hot work in
the morning; but when we awoke all was quiet, and we soon made
the discovery that the enemy had departed during the night. Our
lines were advanced; we entered Adairsville without opposition,
and halted there for a few hours--moved forward again five or six
miles, and went into camp for the night.
At seven o'clock the next morning we resumed our march, and reached
Kingston at ten, A. M., where we rested an hour or two--the enemy
still retreating, hotly pursued, however, by our advance, which had
constant skirmishing with their rear-guard.
About one o'clock the enemy made a stand, and our artillery opened
upon their line of battle, which was drawn up, apparently in force,
in an open field. Our own lines being completed, we advanced upon
them and took some prisoners, and drove them till night brought
an end to our operations, having during the day driven them past
Cassville, and compelled them to take refuge within a strong line
of works, where it was reported that they intended to make a final
stand. This intelligence was received with great satisfaction by
our boys, who began to think that the enemy's strategy was to tire
them to death by running after them, and many of them preferred
fighting to marching. The Sixth Kentucky was thrown forward into
the advance line, where they erected temporary works and spent
the night on picket, expecting a battle with the coming light.
Day came, but no battle; for, somewhat to our astonishment, after
the reports we had heard, Mr. Johnston, as our boys termed the
rebel chief, had again executed a night movement, for which he had
already become famous--and will you believe it, reader, many were
greatly disappointed because there was to be no fighting that day?
We remained here two days to rest and replenish our haversacks,
as rations had been brought up for a further advance. Our boys
enjoyed the rest greatly--especially as they had begun to regard
the campaign as a race rather than a conflict, and many were the
jests at the expense of our fleet-footed foe, and a general, whose
drummer-boys could not say, like the Scotch bagpiper, when asked to
play a retreat, "that he had never learned to play _that_."
Up to this time my company had been acting as Provost Guard at
head-quarters, in accordance with the expressed wish of Gen.
Hazen; but in consequence of some changes in the regiment, I was
sent back to it, with my company, and placed in command; and as
this was by order of my brigade commander, Gen. Hazen, under whose
eye I had been so long, I could not but esteem it as a great honor;
and if I had any ambition to gain the praise of the good and the
brave, it most certainly was gratified by an official paper, from
which the following is an extract: "Capt. Johnston has always
performed duty efficiently; has been in all the battles of the army
till captured at Chickamauga; he was shot through and left for dead
at Shiloh. He was, with one exception, the most active officer
in preparing for, and effecting the escape of a large number of
officers recently from Libby Prison." These, and other words still
more complimentary, were signed, "W. B. Hazen, Brig.-Gen.;" and it
would be affectation in me to say that I was not gratified by the
approval of this noble gentleman and good soldier.
Previous to the commencement of the campaign Gen. Hazen had
consolidated his brigade into four battalions, each composed of
two regiments--each of which, when on the march and in battle,
was commanded by the senior officer of the two regiments. The
Twenty-Third Kentucky and the Sixth Kentucky were together, and
commanded by Lieut.-Col. Foy. Being now in command of the regiment,
I shall not attempt the task of giving a full history of the
operations of the army during the remainder of the campaign; but
content myself with those matters which came under my own eye, in
which my own command was concerned.
In obedience to orders, on the 23d of May we broke up our camp
before Cassville, and resumed our march southward. The day was very
warm, the marching heavy, and we were glad to go into camp, about
nine o'clock at night, in a most beautiful country, about five
miles south of the Etowah River. Next morning we moved forward and
reached the Allatoona Mountains at midday. We rested long enough
to make our coffee, then ascended the mountains and camped on the
top. Heavy rains fell during the night; the Sixth Kentucky went on
picket, and was not relieved till eleven o'clock the next day, at
which time the _assembly_ was sounded, and the column, on account
of the bad roads, moved slowly forward till about six o'clock in
the evening, when the sound of cannon was heard, denoting that
there was fighting ahead. Our march during the day, though slow,
was a pleasant one; the rain of the previous night had cooled
the air, the scenery was varied and romantic, and little met our
eyes that was suggestive of the terrible ravages of war. But our
thoughts were soon diverted from the quiet beauty of the woods and
the majestic grandeur of the mountains, by the dread sounds of
distant battle. The sounds came from Hooker's Corps, which was in
the advance of the flanking movement; and from the cool and tried
valor of its veterans, we were prepared to hear of a desperate
struggle and fearful carnage. It was even so; this army corps,
on its way to Dallas, was met by the enemy in force, and a heavy
battle ensued. Hooker suffered greatly; but the steady valor of
his men enabled him to hold the field. Our column had orders to
push forward; and, through rain and mud, on we pressed till near
midnight, meeting on our march sad evidences of the fight--the
ambulance and wagon trains, filled with wounded, on their way to
the rear, from which, ever and anon, came cries of pain and agony
that could not be repressed. We were wet and weary when we received
orders to halt, and we lay down in our wet clothing and slept the
remainder of the night upon the battle-field, amid the dead and the
dying who had fallen in the evening's conflict; yet the thought,
I doubt not, passed through many a mind ere slumber came--may I
not to-morrow night be like many of those around me who sleep
that sleep which knows no waking? Soldiers are generally gay and
thoughtless, even in the midst of danger; but they have also their
serious moments, and the lightest heart feels sad in the solemn
night on the battle-field thickly bestrewn with the dead.
At four in the morning we rose, expecting a hard day's work; for
picket firing was kept up all night, and increased after daylight.
At seven o'clock we were in line of battle--the Sixth Kentucky in
front. Companies D and F were thrown forward as skirmishers, while
the rest of the regiment was building breast-works, and while thus
engaged suffered considerably from the enemy's sharp-shooters.
Selecting a number of the best shots in my command, I assigned
them the task of silencing them, which was soon accomplished.
At one o'clock the whole regiment advanced, driving the enemy's
skirmishers within their works, and established our own lines in
close rifle range of them, and during the night, by dint of hard
labor, we intrenched ourselves securely. During the evening,
while on the skirmish line, and occupying the extreme left, we
were threatened by the rebel cavalry, against which I sent a few
men under the charge of a lieutenant, and dispatched a messenger
to Gen. Hazen, notifying him of my condition. On his way back the
messenger was wounded by a rebel sharp-shooter, and was taken to
the rear; but the message he was bearing was brought to me--it was,
that Gen. Schofield's command would soon join me on the left, and
that I must hold my advanced position till he made his appearance,
which I did till near sundown, when the Twenty-Third Corps came up,
and my weary flankers were relieved.
Early on the morning of the 27th the regiment was relieved from
duty on the front line, and moved back a short distance to rest,
which was greatly needed; and while preparing some coffee, a man
belonging to the battery was wounded. Lieut. William Furr, myself,
and two others, were placing the wounded man in a litter, and
while thus engaged Lieut. Furr received a wound which in a few
days proved fatal. He was a brave man and good officer, and his
loss was much regretted. Such incidents are the frequent and sad
episodes in a soldier's life, and make an impression deep and
lasting--the very dangers and toils through which they pass bind
them together with a power only understood by those who have been
partakers of this fellowship of suffering. The soldier often seems
gay and light-hearted in immediate prospect of a battle; and I have
seen a regiment express as much joy when the loud guns announced
the approach of a fierce conflict, as school-boys would at an
unexpected vacation; and yet those same men will at other times
be as tender and tearful as women. When they look down the lines,
thinned in many a battle; or, by the nightly camp-fire, talk of
comrades gone; or wrap in his overcoat or blanket the remains of
one who has borne with them the fatigues of the march or the perils
of the fight, and make his grave in a land of strangers, the bosom
heaves, the tears fall, and every look and tone proclaims that
under the soldier's garb a true human heart is beating still.