"General Joseph E. Johnston is relieved."
"What is that you say?"
"General Joseph E. Johnston is relieved, and Hood appointed in his place."
"You are a liar, and if you will come out and show yourself I will shoot you down in your tracks, you lying Yankee galloot."
"That's more than I will stand. If the others will hands off, I will fight a duel with you. Now, show your manhood."
Well, reader, every word of this is true, as is everything in this book. Both men loaded their guns and stepped out to their plates. They were both to load and fire at will, until one or both were killed. They took their positions without either trying to get the advantage of the other. Then some one gave the command to "Fire at will; commence firing." They fired seven shots each; at the seventh shot, poor Johnny Reb fell a corpse, pierced through the heart.
REMOVAL OF GENERAL JOSEPH E. JOHNSTON
Such was the fact. General Joseph E. Johnston had been removed and
General J. B. Hood appointed to take command. Generals Hardee and
Kirby Smith, two old veterans, who had been identified with the Army of
Tennessee from the beginning, resigned. We had received the intelligence
from the Yankees.
The relief guard confirmed the report.
All the way from Rocky Face Ridge to Atlanta was a battle of a hundred days, yet Hood's line was all the time enfiladed and his men decimated, and he could not hold his position. Old Joe Johnston had taken command of the Army of Tennessee when it was crushed and broken, at a time when no other man on earth could have united it. He found it in rags and tatters, hungry and heart-broken, the morale of the men gone, their manhood vanished to the winds, their pride a thing of the past. Through his instrumentality and skillful manipulation, all these had been restored. We had been under his command nearly twelve months. He was more popular with his troops day by day. We had made a long and arduous campaign, lasting four months; there was not a single day in that four months that did not find us engaged in battle with the enemy. History does not record a single instance of where one of his lines was ever broken—not a single rout. He had not lost a single piece of artillery; he had dealt the enemy heavy blows; he was whipping them day by day, yet keeping his own men intact; his men were in as good spirits and as sure of victory at the end of four months as they were at the beginning; instead of the army being depleted, it had grown in strength. 'Tis true, he had fallen back, but it was to give his enemy the heavier blows. He brought all the powers of his army into play; ever on the defensive, 'tis true, yet ever striking his enemy in his most vulnerable part. His face was always to the foe. They could make no movement in which they were not anticipated. Such a man was Joseph E. Johnston, and such his record. Farewell, old fellow! We privates loved you because you made us love ourselves. Hardee, our old corps commander, whom we had followed for nearly four years, and whom we had loved and respected from the beginning, has left us. Kirby Smith has resigned and gone home. The spirit of our good and honored Leonidas Polk is in heaven, and his body lies yonder on the Kennesaw line. General Breckinridge and other generals resigned. I lay down my pen; I can write no more; my heart is too full. Reader, this is the saddest chapter I ever wrote.