last, he
was utterly overcome, and fell by the road-side. The last ambulance
picked him up, and he was sent to Newnan, as all supposed, to die. Had
I not been in a position to give him every advantage and excellent
nursing he must have died. Even with this, the disease was only
arrested, not cured, and for years after the war still clung about
him. Under Providence, his life was saved at that time. This one
blessing seemed to me a full recompense for all I had hitherto
encountered, and a thorough justification of my persistence in the
course I marked out for myself at the beginning of the war. Various
"_affairs_" continued to employ the soldiers at the front; in all of
these our losses were _comparatively_ small. I never saw the soldiers
in better spirits. There was little if any "shirking." As soon
as--almost before--they were recovered they cheerfully reported for
duty. The "expediency" of Johnston's retreat was freely discussed. All
seemed to feel that the enemy was being drawn away from his base of
supplies into a strange country, where he would be trapped at last,
and to feel sure that it was "all right." "Let old Joe alone, _he_
knows what he is about," and on every hand expressions of strong
affection and thorough confidence. The army was certainly far from
being "demoralized," as General Hood must have discovered, when,
immediately afterward, on the 22d of July, and later at Franklin, they
withstood so magnificently the shock of battle, and at the word of
command hurled themselves again and again against the enemy, rushing
dauntlessly onward to meet overwhelming numbers and certain death. On
the 18th of July, the news reached us that General Johnston had been
relieved from command, and that General Hood had succeeded him. I knew
nothing of the relative merits of the two commanders, and had no means
of judging but by the effect upon the soldiers by whom I was then
surrounded. The whole post seemed as if stricken by some terrible
calamity. Convalescents walked about with lagging steps and gloomy
faces. In every ward lay men who wept bitterly or groaned aloud or,
covering their faces, refused to speak or eat. From that hour the
buoyant, hopeful spirit seemed to die out. I do not think anything was
ever the same again. For, when after the awful sacrifice of human life
which followed the inauguration of the new policy, the decimated army
_still_ were forced to retreat, the shadow of doom began to creep
slowly upon t