On the 23d of June Companies H and K were on picket, when it was ordered to make a demonstration in our front; the line was to advance at five. P. M., supported by the Ninety-Third Ohio Volunteer Infantry. In obedience to orders the advance was made. Capt. Owen was in command of the picket; but before they moved I was ordered to send another officer to his assistance, and sent Capt. Nierhoff. Our boys had scarcely got from behind their works when the enemy opened a galling fire upon them; they advanced the line, however, to the rifle pits, but with the loss of fifteen men out of the thirty-five that were engaged—among the killed was Capt. Nierhoff. Company H had four killed and eight wounded; Company K had two wounded; the Ninety-Third Ohio lost forty-three in killed and wounded. We held the position which we had gained at such a sacrifice till dark, when our lines were withdrawn to their original position. The bravery of the men was put to a severe test by this movement; but it was, beyond doubt, ill-advised, as every man knew that we were in full range of the rebels' main line of works.
Several fierce contests took place while we were in front of Kenesaw Mountain—one of the bloodiest of which took place on our left, the sad and sickening traces of which remained till the enemy retreated. On the night that the enemy evacuated their stronghold, our brigade was ordered to relieve some troops on our left, and my regiment was placed in the front line, so close to the enemy that each party did picket duty from the main line of their respective works, which were not more than one hundred yards apart. Across this narrow space two charges had been made—one by the rebels, the other by our men, in each case with severe loss to the charging column; and the intervening space was now, several days after the battle, thickly strewn with the swollen, disfigured, and putrefying bodies of the gallant dead upon the very spot where they fell—blue jackets and gray all intermingled, all silent and peaceful in their last sleep, presenting the saddest spectacle I had witnessed amid all the dreadful scenes of the war. The carnage must have been terrible; but the gray uniforms far outnumbered the blue on that sad field of the slain. The reason why they were left unburied is said to have been the refusal of the rebel officer commanding that part of the line to receive a flag of truce—such a wretch deserves neither a soldier's grave nor a soldier's tear.
On the 3d of July the army moved in pursuit of the retreating foe; and after marching ten miles went into camp near the railroad south of Marietta. All was quiet for the first time for two weeks. The evacuation of Kenesaw threw Marietta into our hands, which was occupied immediately as a depot for supplies, and for the use of our sick and wounded. This is said to be one of the most beautiful of Southern cities, the town being well built, and the suburbs adorned with dwellings eminently suggestive of comfort within, and they certainly are outwardly beautiful. The Georgia Military Institute occupies a beautiful and commanding situation south of the town, and the inhabitants are a much superior class of people to any we had as yet met with in our march through the State.
The scenery in the vicinity possesses the great charm of variety—lovely valleys and mountains sublime—Kenesaw, Altoona, and Lost Mountains being all in full view. Before the war this was quite a manufacturing point. Churches and school-houses are more abundant than in most portions of the South through which I have passed, and I am convinced there are also not a few Union men.
On the morning of the 4th of July our brigade moved a mile to the left, the enemy being near at hand. Line of battle was formed, with the Sixth in the front line; fighting all day, the foe before us in force and strongly fortified. We held our position till next morning, when it was ascertained that Sherman had again succeeded in his favorite flank movement, and the enemy was again forced to leave his strong-holds and fall back, this time over Chattahoochee River, into the first lines of his strong works for the defense of Atlanta—only eight miles distant. The pursuit then began—my regiment in the advance. During the day we came up with their rear-guard, had some fighting, and captured some prisoners, and reached the river in time to prevent the rebels from destroying the bridge over which they crossed near Vining's Station. After a little fighting, with the river between us, we were ordered to fall back and pitch our camp. We remained there till the 10th, our pickets on the north bank and the rebel pickets on the south. Here we stopped five days; our batteries were located at the best points, and the most furious cannonade that I had yet heard was kept up both day and night. The sharp-shooters, too, were busy; nor did the rebels permit us to do all the shooting with the big guns; but planting their batteries, they fired with great precision—at one time obtaining such a good range on the camp of the Sixth Kentucky as to wound several of my men. At some points on the river some of our boys and the "rebs" would get up an armistice, and gray jackets and blue jackets would meet and mingle in the greatest harmony, and in an hour or two would be pouring a deadly fire into each other's ranks.
Our next move was to the left, and up the river, to effect a crossing. We marched seven miles, and went into camp. The next day we were ordered to cross; but when we reached the river we found the bridge was not completed, which delayed us several hours. We got over at length, marched about a mile and a half, and went into camp. Next morning we changed our position, moving forward, and to the right, upon an elevated point, upon which we soon erected a strong line of works, behind which we lay till the 17th, when the Third Division of the Fourth Army Corps was ordered to move down the south side of the Chattahoochee as far as Vining's Station, to dislodge the enemy, who was then in front of the Fourteenth Corps, and hold the crossing till the pontoons were laid and the army across. This we accomplished without the loss of a man, and succeeded also in capturing some prisoners; and having finished our work, returned the same night to our camp.