now greatly dilapidated and broken, and everything shows the utmost neglect. Numbers of the wooden head-boards have been broken down and scattered about the ground, and fires, burning the brush and leaves throughout the woods, have from time to time crept within the cemetery enclosure, and burned and blackened and scorched. No efforts are made to keep the cemetery in order or to repair damages to it.

Quite a number of graves were marked with neat tablets of iron, and these, of course, are still standing, except such as have been deliberately knocked over (and some have been), and such as have fallen through the flooding and washing away of the graves, for a little brook runs right through the cemetery, and, as it frequently floods, much of the ground is marshy and wet. The explanation of the choice of such a location is that it was selected in a very dry season by some one unfamiliar with the neighborhood.

In the centre of the cemetery, upon a little mound of earth, stands a plain stone cross, with a pathetically simple inscription:

"TO THE UNKNOWN DEAD."

The entire effect of that lonely cemetery in the woods is unspeakably desolate and sad. It is at least ten years, the villagers say, since there were Decoration Day exercises at the cemetery. Since then the graves had been decorated by but a tangled growth of bushes and vines, and by layers of fallen leaves.

A good-looking, bright-eyed girl, living in the village, told us that until within a few years past the cemetery was a favorite resort of couples who were "courting"; only she pronounced the word, Georgia fashion, without either the "r" or the final "g." But the young men, she added, have left the village, and the girls are consequently alone there, and so the cemetery is no longer used for "co'tin'."

I

'N May, 1864, the Union armies began active operations. Grant, with the Army of the Potomac, commenced operating against the Confederate capital, while the other armies, under the different commanders, were supposed to co-operate to such an extent that it would be impossible for the Confederates to reinforce the Army of Northern Virginia, at that time defending Richmond.

This article has only to do with the struggle for Atlanta, and the battle known as "the battle of Atlanta," fought July 22, 1864. Sherman commenced his forward movement, as agreed upon by himself and the general of the army, who went together from Nashville to Cincinnati, in March, 1864. On this journey Grant and Sherman talked over the plan of the coming campaign, arranged details and all other matters pertaining to the campaign, which broke the back-bone of secession, no matter how seriously it might have been strained in the battles of Gettysburg and Vicksburg.

Consequently, the first part of the month of May, 1864, saw all the armies of the Union in motion, the one under Meade, with Grant personally present, and that of Sherman and Banks, each operating upon lines of their own, all subject to such orders as the general-in-chief might give.

A furious contest began with Sherman's advance, every hill being fortified and defended. The battles of Resaca, Dallas, Peach-Tree Creek, and others too numerous to mention, followed. But, on the 20th of July, Hood, who had succeeded General Joe Johnston in command of the Confederate army opposed to Sherman, made a sortie, which was handsomely repulsed by the 20th and 4th corps, commanded by Generals Hooker and Howard. The 14th corps also had considerable to do with this battle, known as Peach-Tree Creek.

On the evening of July 20th, the 17th corps, to which the writer belonged, passed through Decatur, skirmishing every foot of the way with a very persistent enemy. General Walter Q. Gresham, the present Secretary of State, was commander of the 4th division of the 17th corps. He, as usual, was with the skirmish line, and while directing the advance was wounded in the leg so severely that he never again took the

field. The writer was a witness of his being carried to the rear on a stretcher, and remembers to this day the look of agony upon his handsome face as he was carried past our regiment.

When he was made Postmaster-General by President Arthur, I accosted him at the Arlington Hotel, saying that I saw his leg shot off. General Gresham responded by stating that I was mistaken, as he still used his old leg, but that he had a hard task to convince the surgeons that his leg was all right; and said he, "My boy, they knew more about it than I did, for, if the thing had been cut off, I would not have suffered half so much as I do now."

On the 21st of July, the Iowa brigade, to which I belonged, and, in fact, the whole 17th corps, made a charge on the enemy's works. We went clear up to the line of breastworks, were ordered to lie down, and await results on the right and left of us. This was the biggest mistake, perhaps, of the war, for we could have gone into their works, and doubled them up to the left and right of us, and allowed the other parts of our line a lodgment, which they failed to make.

The consequence was, that we had to fall back through a cornfield, from an enemy who, a few moments before, had been so cowed that not one of them dared show his face above the works; but now that we were on the retreat, showed boldly above the breastworks, and fired into our unresisting rear, killing and wounding almost half of the men in line.

That night, July 21st, we were moved to the extreme left of the army, and commenced and completed a small line of breastworks. The 17th corps was placed in a refused position, in military parlance,—that is, instead of facing toward Atlanta, our backs were to the city.

We felt perfectly secure in our new position, as the woods and underbrush were so thick one could not see a man 100 yards away. Rations were issued an hour previous to the battle, and everybody was seeking the repose necessary to a very hot July day in a Southern clime.

Suddenly, at twelve м., two or three shots were heard in our front. They were reports that any soldier knew came from the guns of an enemy pointing toward us; clear, distinct, and something to be dreaded.

Blackberries were ripe and in profusion, and I had a can of them on the fire, boiling. The order came, "Fall in !"

I grabbed my can of seething fruit and my gun, got into the works, and foolishly tried to eat the blackberries. As a matter of fact, my mouth was severely scalded by the operation.

In less than two minutes the skirmishers of my regiment came rushing back through the abatis, Lieutenant Muir in command, hatless and out of breath.

Big, brawny, and brave Belknap, colonel of the regiment, jumps onto the works and orders Muir to take his men back into the woods and protect our front. Muir tried to do his duty; but hardly had Belknap's order passed his lips, until Givan's brigade, of Arkansas, was upon

us.

Then began a struggle seldom witnessed in the "late unpleasantness." General Oliver O. Howard, who, a few days later, became the commander of the Army of the Tennessee, said, in an article in the "Atlantic Monthly," that, although he had been with the Army of the Potomac during the severest part of its fighting up until Gettysburg, he had never seen anything to equal the ferocity of the enemy or the gallant defence of the 4th division of the 17th corps on that occasion.

The Crocker Iowa brigade (3d), of the 4th division, 17th corps, held the extreme left of the line, and my regiment (15th Iowa) was the left of the brigade. The Confederates overlapped us, and got into our rear. Here was the first time we ever used the breastworks, although we had been working upon them since the battle of Shiloh.

We drove the enemy back handsomely from our front, but had hardly done so until we found they were taking us in the rear. We jumped the works and repulsed our new enemy, and had hardly done so until the ones in our front made a new attack. The order was to retreat by a side step to the right, which was executed by the men jumping first from one side of the works to the other and driving back the charging Confederates.

This was a fight in which there was no rear, and where the cowards and "bums" had not the slightest chance.

General McPherson, commander of the Army of the Tennessee, was killed within 100 yards of the writer's regiment, and one of the soldiers of Company D, 15th Iowa, George Reynolds, was presented with a gold medal for his heroism in

succoring the general in his last moments and recovering the dead body.*

We continued to fight and side-step to the right until we got into the works of Leggitt's (3d) division, and then helped to repulse several charges made upon Gold Hill, the key to our position.

I will never forget the appearance upon this field of General Giles A. Smith and his Adjutant-General, Colonel C. Cadle, Jr. They came down through the brush and stopped with Colonel Belknap, asking how the battle was going.

Smith had succeeded General Gresham, and had been sent from the 15th corps, much to our discontent, as we thought we had men in our own ranks who ought to command us. Smith and Cadle rode down through a very tempest of fire, stopped, and commenced talking to Colonel Belknap.

"General," said Belknap, "get off your horse, for they are shooting grape and canister up through here by the bucketful every minute, from cannon captured from us."

The faces of these brave men were as white as the paper upon which this is written, but they remained on their horses and talked about the battle as unconcernedly as I now write about it. It was an exhibition of nerve and coolness that I have never seen equalled.

During this fight, General Belknap, then Colonel of the 15th Iowa, won his commission as brigadier-general by personal bravery. He was in every exposed position and urging his men to stand fast. The 45th Alabama (Confederate) charged upon Belknap's regiment. If any of them got away, we did not know it at that time. Lampley, colonel of the 45th, came clear up to our lines, and was hauled over the works by General Belknap by the "scruff of the neck and seat of the breeches." This is a fact, which can be proved by any man of the Crocker Iowa brigade present on that occasion, and by the fact that our "Old Uncle Billy Sherman " made him a brigadier-general a few days later for "conspicuous gallantry," although there were several officers in the brigade who ranked him, one of whom was so incensed that he immediately resigned.

Upon the death of General McPherson, General John A. Logan took command of the Army.

*When the Army of the Tennessee met in Washington to unveil the statue to General McPherson, it was conceded on every hand that I and one other were the last persons to see General McPherson alive. This after a cross-questioning by all the prominent officers of the Army of the Ten

nessee.

now?"

"Sherman.

yours?"

"Ourn's Sherman, too."

Who's

"What! You don't mean that you've got a general named Sherman?"

"Nope. But whenever you'uns gits marchin' orders we'uns allus goes too!"

And, indeed, he might well say this, because for mile after mile, after evacuating Resaca, Johnston steadily retreated toward the southward, managing to just keep out of the way of Sherman's flanks and centre.

Lincoln once said of the Army of the Potomac: "If McClellan does not want to use the army I would like to borrow it," but he never had occasion to make such a remark about the army of Sherman, for its commander kept it very busily engaged from the opening to the

close of the campaign. It was a constant succession of battles and marches and skirmishes. It may be mentioned, too, that there was a great deal of burning and destroying as well. The mayor of one of the towns that Sherman visited in war time was afterwards asked if he had injured it very much.

"Injured! Why, he took it with him!"

The town had been burned, and as the army marched off the wind blew the smoke and ashes in their direction.

After passing Resaca, the Oostanaula River flows in a southwesterly direction, and at Lay's Ferry, some few miles below Resaca, there was a sharp engagement on May 14, 1864, between a Confederate force posted there and the troops sent by Sherman to advance toward Johnston's flank and rear. The Federals, however, succeeded in making a crossing. On the following day a strong effort was made to force them back, and the Confederates charged upon them with desperation. The effort, however, was a failure, and, Federal reinforcements arriving, the position of the Confederates became hopeless, and Johnston retreated farther South.

The country south of Resaca is exceedingly beautiful. There are broad and fertile fields. There are pleasant homes. There are fine views of the mountains in the distance. It is one of the most attractive farming regions that I have