“Skulking, shirking, and straggling behind in time of danger, are such high detestable crimes that the General Commanding would hardly presume them possible, were it not for his own observation, and the report that at this moment soldiers are found loafing in the cabins, to the rear, as far back as Kingston. The only proper fate of such miscreants is that they be shot, as common enemies to their profession and country; and all officers and patrols sent back to arrest them, will shoot them without mercy, on the slightest impudence or resistance. By thus wandering in the rear they desert their fellows, who expose themselves in battle in the full faith that all on the rolls are present, and they expose themselves to capture and exchange as good soldiers, to which they have no title. It is hereby made the duty of every officer who finds such skulkers, to deliver them to any provost guard, regardless of corps, to be employed in menial or hard work, such as repairing roads, digging drains, sinks, &c. Officers, if found skulking, will be subjected to the same penalty as enlisted men, viz., instant death, or the hardest labor and treatment. Absentees not accounted for, should always be mustered as deserters, to deprive them of their pay and bounties, reserved for honest soldiers.”
We cannot chronicle all the battles and skirmishes of the “running fight”—not from the enemy, but after him. The charge upon Allatoona Pass by the Union cavalry, June 2d, where General Sherman had flanked General Johnston a week before, was a brilliant display of valor baptized in blood.
The first week in June had passed, and General Sherman’s troops, after marching more than a hundred miles since leaving Chattanooga, through a country unknown to them, daily skirmishing with the watchful foe, striking against works capable of resisting twice their number of troops, and all the time without broken ranks, gaining substantial advantage, now fairly confronted General Johnston intrenched upon Lost Mountain, Pine Hill, and Kenesaw Mountain, three bold peaks connected together by a line of ridges, and twenty-six miles north of Atlanta. His line was closely circumscribed by ours. In no place were the hostile parallels more than a musket-shot apart. The rebel right rested on Kenesaw Mountain, on the railroad, four miles north of Marietta, their left on Lost Mountain, some six miles west of Kenesaw. Between these two formidable ridges the rebels had gradually been forced back from a triangle, with the apex toward us, until their line was but a faint crescent, their centre still being slightly advanced. Right, left, and centre, their position was closely invested. Our troops shed parallel after parallel, until the country in their rear was furrowed with rifle-pits and abatis, and scored with a labyrinth of roads.
“The country is covered with primitive forests, and in very few places are there cleared spaces sufficiently large to display the movements of a brigade. There is an abundance of scrubby undergrowth which hides every thing a few yards distant from view; and when one inspects the difficulties, it seems hardly credible, though such is the case, that we fully developed the enemy’s position with two days’ skirmish.”
A brave officer from whose accurate observations passages have already been taken, says of this halting-place in the great race for Atlanta: “The ridge in front of Kenesaw commences about Wallace’s House on the Burnt Hickory and Marietta road, and extends thence across the railroad behind Noonday Creek about two miles in an east-by-north direction. Lost Mountain and Kenesaw are about eleven hundred feet high, Pine Hill and Brushy Hill about four hundred feet high, and the ridges everywhere about one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet, or about the same as, and, in fact, not very dissimilar to Missionary Ridge at Chattanooga. The enemy was everywhere strongly intrenched behind log barricades, protected by earth thrown against them, with a ditch, formidable abatis, and in many places a chevaux-de-frise of sharpened fence-rails besides. Their intrenchments were well protected by thick traverses, and at frequent intervals arranged with emplacements and embrasures for field-guns. The thickness of this parapet was generally six to eight feet at top on the infantry line, and from twelve to fifteen feet thick at the top, where field-guns were posted or where fire from our artillery was anticipated. The amount of digging and intrenching that Johnston’s army had done is almost incredible. General Sherman’s tactics resulted in wresting Lost Mountain, Pine Hill, the ridge in front of Kenesaw, and Brushy Hill from the enemy, and forcing back his two wings, Kenesaw Mountain operating as a sort of hinge, until his left was behind Olley’s Creek, and his right behind the stream which flows between the houses named on the map as McAffee and Wiley Roberts. Kenesaw Mountain then became the projecting fortress of the defensive line, the wings being turned backward from it. It is a rocky eminence, rather precipitous, thickly-wooded, and crowned with batteries.
“Our respective lines were about eight or nine miles in length, from six hundred to seven hundred yards distant from each other, and strongly intrenched. Skirmishing went on incessantly, and artillery duels occurred two or three times daily. The enemy at different times made some dozen or more assaults, sometimes getting within fifty yards of our intrenchments, but were always repulsed, and generally with heavy loss to them. To gain certain positions, we opened a heavy artillery fire upon their whole line, pressed their two flanks heavily, and made assaults in two places upon their centre. The assaults were unsuccessful; but the Twenty-third Corps, upon their extreme right, gained important advantages of position.”
Wrote another: “We fancy out here that the over-expectant loyal public are disappointed at the seemingly slow progress of our cause in this department. It is only necessary to state that the immense amount of supplies required for an army of this size, to be transported a distance of over two hundred miles through the enemy’s country, with a single-track railroad, is a gigantic undertaking. As for subsisting upon the country, that is out of the question, the inhabitants themselves depending upon the charity of the ‘ruthless invaders’ for daily sustenance. Forage, ordnance stores, and commissary supplies, must all flow through this single artery with lightning rapidity, if we would replenish these stores as fast as exhausted. Nothing but the most thorough organization and complete system, with great energy in the various departments, could ever have prevented our troops from suffering for the want of food and clothing. The public can never appreciate the innumerable natural obstacles that have embarrassed the operations of this unflinching army. The truly loyal do not demand any such explanations as these, for with such leaders as Grant and Sherman apprehension is groundless; but of late the Copperhead press, not content with misrepresenting and belittling General Grant’s victorious advance toward the rebel capital, sneer at General Sherman’s generalship, and insinuate already, in the face of brilliant successes achieved, that the ‘On to Atlanta’ movement is a failure.
“Standing upon the martial-crowned top of Pine Mountain, amid the fluttering of those peculiar flags used by the Signal Corps, we learned that from this eminence were transmitted, in those mysterious signals, all the movements of the enemy, and such operations of our army as were necessary. In front of you stands the defiant, frowning Kenesaw, with its thick woods concealing the rebel batteries from view that line its steep sides, while five or six miles west of Kenesaw, Lost Mountain lifts its sugar-loaf crest to the sky, solitary and alone, looming up against the gorgeously tinted clouds that deck the heavens. Just before you, looking south, can be discerned the suburbs of Marietta, with the Georgia Military Institute standing out prominently in the picture. Gazing down the steep declivity into the thickly-wooded vales which lie at the spectator’s feet, a magnificent panorama of natural beauty is unfurled. So close are the lines of the contending armies, that the dense volumes of smoke from their camp fires roll up united, but hang in portentous clouds over friend and foe.
“While wrapt in silent admiration, mixed with a deep sense of awe at the wild and romantic scene before me, the bands encamped in the valley which encircles the base of the mountain struck up the ‘John Brown’ or ‘Glory Hallelujah Chorus,’ the echoes of which vibrated, re-echoed, and, finally, as the sun’s departing rays began to fade from the horizon, its pathetic notes died away, or mingled with the rattle of musketry which flashed along our skirmish line. I can never forget the peculiar impression photographed upon my mind by the swelling of this historical anthem of Freedom’s first battle, as it grandly sailed over Pine Mountain. My reverie was soon disturbed by the sudden roar of many batteries belching out their savage peals with fearful rapidity from both sides, and for several minutes quite an artillery duel was indulged in, interspersed with short rolls of musketry. It was curious to watch the rebel guns, as the smoke lazily curled from the cannon’s mouth, while the solid shot whizzed and shells shrieked over our breastworks.”
Among the incidents of this part of the great campaign was a dress parade of the rebels on the top of Kenesaw Mountain. Our lines were so near, that the display was distinctly visible and audible. Below the regiment, whose bayonets gleamed in the rays of the setting sun, were the bristling rifle-pits. A courier suddenly dashed up to the adjutant, and handed him a despatch from General Johnston, announcing that General Sherman “had brought his army so far south, that his line of supplies was longer than he could hold; that he was too far from his base—just where their commanding general wished to get him; that a part of their army would hold the railroad, thirty miles north of the Etowah; and that the great railroad bridge at Allatoona had been completely destroyed; that in a few days Sherman would be out of supplies, because he could bring no more trains through by the railroad. They were urged to maintain a bold front, and in a few days the Yankees would be forced to retreat. Breathless silence evinces the attention which every word of the order receives, as the adjutant reads. Cheers are about to be given, when hark! loud whistles from Sherman’s cars, at Big Shanty, interrupt them. The number of whistles increase. Allatoona, Ackworth, and Big Shanty depots resound with them. Supplies have arrived. The effect can easily be imagined. The illustration was so apt, the commentary so appropriate, that it was appreciated at the instant. ‘Bully for the base of supplies!’ ‘Bully for the long line!’ ‘Three cheers for the big bridge!’ ‘Here’s your Yankee cars!’ ‘There’s Sherman’s rations!’ Bedlam was loose along their line for a short time.”