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[39] burned the bridge as they left, and we were behind holding the bag. If I was familiar with Johnson, I'd say: “Pretty sharp, Joe, and I'd carry the joke no further.”

Here along the road on the slopes, in the redoubt, and through the thickets, lay the dead and mangled. In one house not far distant from the scene of conflict the rebels had huddled at least twenty ambulance loads of wounded. But to the hill. Here in front of Ward and Coburn, and Wood and Geary, the dead were numerous. We found one dead Colonel, but on his person no marks or papers by which to recognize him.

A short distance from the battle-field lived a family that had members in the rebel army, and it was supposed they were in this battle. The mother and sisters were searching the thickets and looking into the faces of the dead in feverish anxiety to know whether their dear ones were among the number who should never wake again to earth's reveille.

At the foot of the hill, near a long row of dead men laid out for burial, stood the four guns, to capture or retain which all these lives were paid. The boys of the brigade felt and examined every piece of mechanism, point, or clasp, or ring. A soldier was astraddle every piece, and some supported two. They would step about, and scrutinize and talk about them fully as proud of them as an affianced bride would be of a charming trousseau.

In front of Logan's line even more ghastly sights were seen than on the enemy's right. The dead that lay here had lain for two days, and were badly swollen. They were lying in the ditches, on the knolls near the works, in the ravines, in every conceivable place, and in every possible shape. As I travelled among the corpses on the night of the sixteenth instant, just above me on a knoll a party of church members were singing a hymn. A few feet from them lay the corpse of an old bald-headed man. There was a strange contrast between the mellow sweetness of their voices chanting a hymn, and the cold, rigid features and the glassy glare of the eyeballs, as the moonbeams fell upon them. There was too much food for solemn thought. Death, to which we all must come at last, and they who were preparing for it.

On a little knoll we found three bodies. Wild flowers of every hue were blooming here as though nature had decked these rolling green swards for a gala day. To descend from the knolls into the thickets to hunt dead men was the straw too much for my curiosity, and I returned to camp to revisit the field in dreams

Lieutenant Shaw, on the staff of General Elliott, Chief of Cavalry of the Department of the Cumberland, was very conspicuous on the field bearing orders, and in making and reporting observations. Always cool amidst danger, and remarkably concise, he is worthy of the many compliments that were paid him during the four memorable days before Resacca.

Mr. C. F. Wagner of New York, for a long time connected with the army as Sutler of the Nineteenth regular infantry, performed praise-worthy service as a volunteer aid on the staff of General R. W. Johnson. He flinched from no duty, encountered danger, and performed every task with satisfaction to the General.

Major Connolly, of General Baird's staff, is equally deserving of commendation for his attention to duty and unflinching bravery.

Our losses from the seventh up to the six-teenth, will amount to at least four thousand men.

The enemy's loss will, I apprehend, not exceed in killed, wounded, and missing, twenty-five hundred, as he fought mostly behind breast-works.

Another account.

Resacca, Ga., May 17.
The preliminary operations of General Sherman's campaign are already known to the public — the massing of General Thomas' army at Chattanooga; the advance to Ringgold, and the passage of Taylor's Ridge; the march of McPherson from Huntsville, Decatur, and other places, towards the great theatre of operations in North Georgia; the descent of Schofield from East Tennessee to form part of the left of the grand army — all these things are known.

Equally well understood are the next series of movements — the march from the eastern foot of Taylor's Ridge to the western base of the Chattanooga Mountain; the occupation of the town of Tunnel by a portion of Palmer's corps; the retreat of the enemy, after some insignificant skirmishing, from the Tunnel Hill range of eminences; the movement of Schofield and Newton along the east side of Rocky Face, a part of Chattanooga Mountain; the ascent of the northern slope of the ridge by Harker, until stopped by an almost impassable ravine, across which the enemy opened a fierce fire; the splendid achievement of Colonel John G. Mitchell, in driving the rebels from the mouth of Buzzard Roost Gap, taking possession of three hills at its western entrance, thus closing it as effectually against the rebels, should they attempt to assail our rear through it, as they had closed it against any direct advance of ours upon Dalton; the fearless charge of Colonel B. F. Scribner across some open fields to the right of the gap, by which he cleared everything except the ridge itself of the rebel sharpshooters, and then retired with his troops orderly as if on parade, although exposed to a plunging fire from six pieces of artillery on the summit of Rocky Face; the brave but unavailing effort of General Geary to penetrate the enemy's strong barrier by way of Dug Gap. I cannot now pause to dwell upon any of these. Hereafter, even the hurried correspondent, grasping at events as they pass, may find time and opportunity to notice some of them at greater length.

But no one of these achievements, nor all of

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