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With
those
precious
twin
lines
of
iron
in
danger
,
the
Confederates
left
their
desperately
defended
rifle
pits
and
,
under
the
starlight
,
made
a
forced
march
to
Resaca
by
the
short
,
direct
road
.
When
the
Yankees
,
swarming
out
of
the
hills
,
came
upon
them
,
the
Southern
troops
were
waiting
for
them
,
entrenched
behind
breastworks
,
batteries
planted
,
bayonets
gleaming
,
even
as
they
had
been
at
Dalton
.
When
the
wounded
from
Dalton
brought
in
garbled
accounts
of
Old
Joe
's
retreat
to
Resaca
,
Atlanta
was
surprised
and
a
little
disturbed
.
It
was
as
though
a
small
,
dark
cloud
had
appeared
in
the
northwest
,
the
first
cloud
of
a
summer
storm
.
What
was
the
General
thinking
about
,
letting
the
Yankees
penetrate
eighteen
miles
farther
into
Georgia
?
The
mountains
were
natural
fortresses
,
even
as
Dr.
Meade
had
said
.
Why
had
n't
Old
Joe
held
the
Yankees
there
?
Johnston
fought
desperately
at
Resaca
and
repulsed
the
Yankees
again
,
but
Sherman
,
employing
the
same
flanking
movement
,
swung
his
vast
army
in
another
semicircle
,
crossed
the
Oostanaula
River
and
again
struck
at
the
railroad
in
the
Confederate
rear
.
Again
the
gray
lines
were
summoned
swiftly
from
their
red
ditches
to
defend
the
railroad
,
and
,
weary
for
sleep
,
exhausted
from
marching
and
fighting
,
and
hungry
,
always
hungry
,
they
made
another
rapid
march
down
the
valley
.
They
reached
the
little
town
of
Calhoun
,
six
miles
below
Resaca
,
ahead
of
the
Yankees
,
entrenched
and
were
again
ready
for
the
attack
when
the
Yankees
came
up
.
The
attack
came
,
there
was
fierce
skirmishing
and
the
Yankees
were
beaten
back
.
Wearily
the
Confederates
lay
on
their
arms
and
prayed
for
respite
and
rest
.
But
there
was
no
rest
.
Sherman
inexorably
advanced
,
step
by
step
,
swinging
his
army
about
them
in
a
wide
curve
,
forcing
another
retreat
to
defend
the
railroad
at
their
back
.
The
Confederates
marched
in
their
sleep
,
too
tired
to
think
for
the
most
part
.
But
when
they
did
think
,
they
trusted
old
Joe
.
They
knew
they
were
retreating
but
they
knew
they
had
not
been
beaten
.
They
just
did
n't
have
enough
men
to
hold
their
entrenchments
and
defeat
Sherman
's
flanking
movements
,
too
.
They
could
and
did
lick
the
Yankees
every
time
the
Yankees
would
stand
and
fight
.
What
would
be
the
end
of
this
retreat
,
they
did
not
know
.
But
Old
Joe
knew
what
he
was
doing
and
that
was
enough
for
them
.
He
had
conducted
the
retreat
in
masterly
fashion
,
for
they
had
lost
few
men
and
the
Yankees
killed
and
captured
ran
high
.
They
had
n't
lost
a
single
wagon
and
only
four
guns
.
And
they
had
n't
lost
the
railroad
at
their
back
,
either
.
Sherman
had
n't
laid
a
finger
on
it
for
all
his
frontal
attacks
,
cavalry
dashes
and
flank
movements
.
The
railroad
.
It
was
still
theirs
,
that
slender
iron
line
winding
through
the
sunny
valley
toward
Atlanta
.
Men
lay
down
to
sleep
where
they
could
see
the
rails
gleaming
faintly
in
the
starlight
.
Men
lay
down
to
die
,
and
the
last
sight
that
met
their
puzzled
eyes
was
the
rails
shining
in
the
merciless
sun
,
heat
shimmering
along
them
.
As
they
fell
back
down
the
valley
,
an
army
of
refugees
fell
back
before
them
.
Planters
and
Crackers
,
rich
and
poor
,
black
and
white
,
women
and
children
,
the
old
,
the
dying
,
the
crippled
,
the
wounded
,
the
women
far
gone
in
pregnancy
,
crowded
the
road
to
Atlanta
on
trains
,
afoot
,
on
horseback
,
in
carriages
and
wagons
piled
high
with
trunks
and
household
goods
.
Five
miles
ahead
of
the
retreating
army
went
the
refugees
,
halting
at
Resaca
,
at
Calhoun
,
at
Kingston
,
hoping
at
each
stop
to
hear
that
the
Yankees
had
been
driven
back
so
they
could
return
to
their
homes
.
But
there
was
no
retracing
that
sunny
road
.
The
gray
troops
passed
by
empty
mansions
,
deserted
farms
,
lonely
cabins
with
doors
ajar
.
Here
and
there
some
lone
woman
remained
with
a
few
frightened
slaves
,
and
they
came
to
the
road
to
cheer
the
soldiers
,
to
bring
buckets
of
well
water
for
the
thirsty
men
,
to
bind
up
the
wounds
and
bury
the
dead
in
their
own
family
burying
grounds
.
But
for
the
most
part
the
sunny
valley
was
abandoned
and
desolate
and
the
untended
crops
stood
in
parching
fields
.
Flanked
again
at
Calhoun
,
Johnston
fell
back
to
Adairsville
,
where
there
was
sharp
skirmishing
,
then
to
Cassville
,
then
south
of
Cartersville
.
And
the
enemy
had
now
advanced
fifty-five
miles
from
Dalton
.
At
New
Hope
Church
,
fifteen
miles
farther
along
the
hotly
fought
way
,
the
gray
ranks
dug
in
for
a
determined
stand
.
On
came
the
blue
lines
,
relentlessly
,
like
a
monster
serpent
,
coiling
,
striking
venomously
,
drawing
its
injured
lengths
back
,
but
always
striking
again
.
There
was
desperate
fighting
at
New
Hope
Church
,
eleven
days
of
continuous
fighting
,
with
every
Yankee
assault
bloodily
repulsed
.
Then
Johnston
,
flanked
again
,
withdrew
his
thinning
lines
a
few
miles
farther
.
