On Monday, the third of October, it was known to General Sherman that General Hood, with thirty thousand foot and ten thousand horse, supplied with the necessary munitions of war to give battle, was on the north side of the Chattahoochee River, moving northward. Never before in the annals of American history had there been such a succession of startling events. The bridge over the Chattahoochee had been washed away in a storm, Forrest had severed communications between Chattanooga and Nashville, drift-wood had leveled the bridge spanning the Austanula River at Resaca, and a large body of rebel cavalry held Big Shanty. Such was the situation when the stars peeped out from their ether bed in the clear blue sky Monday morning. It was apparent to Sherman that Hood would throw a considerable force against the weak garrison at Allatoona Pass, where were stored over two million of rations. Sherman knew if these were taken his men would be in a perilous condition. A commander with less resources than General Sherman would have contemplated the situation with horror; but not so with the hero of Rocky Face, Kenesaw and Atlanta. Signaling from the summit of Kenesaw, thirty miles across the country, to General Corse, commanding at Rome, he directs him to take all his available force to the Allatoona Pass, and hold it against all opposition until he (Sherman) himself could arrive with help. In compliance with these orders General Corse, with the Twelfth Illinois Infantry and Colonel Rowett's brigade, consisting of the Seventh, Fifteenth and Fifty-seventh Illinois Infantry, and the Thirty-ninth Iowa Infantry, in all about fifteen hundred, proceeds by rail towards the Allatoona hills, where we arrive late in the night and find that one division from Hood's army, commanded by General French, was already surrounding the place. The train that carried Corse and his fifteen hundred might have been checked. The enemy saw the train approaching and permitted it to pass in unmolested, thinking it was a train from Chattanooga loaded with supplies for Sherman's army, and therefore would make a fine addition to their game, which with their overwhelming force they were considering as good as captured. Sad, sad mistake was this, as the sequel will show. As soon as the train moves through the pass the regiment leaps from the train; General Corse and Colonel Rowett soon form their battle lines, making all necessary dispositions for the threatening battle, after which the men are ordered to lie down upon the ground to rest; but it is a night before the battle and the soldiers cannot rest. Men are hurrying to and fro; their voices are hushed, for thought is busy with them all; they are thinking of the coming strife, thinking whether they will live to see the old Union's battle flag float over these hills triumphant; thinking of the sables of grief that will be unfolded in memory of those who will lie down to sleep death's silent sleep ere the sun sinks again beneath the ocean's wave.
“Day is dawning dimly, grayly,
In the border of the sky;
And soon the drum will banish
Sleep from every soldier's eye."
The sun is now rising from behind the eastern hills. The rebels have been at work all night preparing for the assault. Companies E and H, commanded by Captain Smith, are now deployed forward on a skirmish line down the railroad south of the depot. A demand for General Corse to surrender is now made by General French. Says he to Corse: "I have Allatoona surrounded by a superior force, and to stay the needless effusion of blood I demand your surrender." General Corse replies: "I am prepared for the 'needless effusion of blood." Firing soon commences upon the skirmish line from the south, and directly a rebel battery opens with grape and canister upon our line, killing one man belonging to Company H—private John Etterlain, the first to fall in Allatoona's great battle. About ten o'clock we discover the enemy massing their forces on the Cartersville road west of the railroad. Colonel Rowett perceiving that the main battle would be on his front, sent Captain Rattrey, of his staff, to order the companies forming the skirmish line south, to report to the regiment immediately. The skirmish line falls back in order, contesting manfully every foot of ground.
"Hark! A roaring like the tempest !
’Tis a thundering of the war steeds!
Like a whirlwind on they're rushing;
Let them come, but come to die;
Finding foemen ever ready
For the fray, but not to fly."
We cast our eyes to the south-east and behold heavy force moving towards the depot. This force soon strikes our left and forces it back. The whole rebel force, six thousand strong, is now sweeping on to the Allatoona hills. The Seventh Illinois and the Thirty-ninth Iowa are standing like a wall of fire in the outer works to the right and left of the Cartersville road. The storm breaks upon them in all its mad fury; the Seventh is now struggling against the reckless rush of the infuriated rebels that are swarming towards their front. The sixteen-shooters are doing their work; the very air seems to grow faint as it breathes their lurid flame. Colonel Rowett soon after the first onset discovers a rebel regiment charg[ing] on to the right flank from the northwest, threatening to sweep it back like so much chaff. Captain Smith, with noble Company E, is ordered to stem the wild tide in that direction. In a moment he doubles into confusion this rebel regiment. It is soon discovered that it will be madness to attempt to hold the weakly constructed outer works. A retreat is ordered; the Seventh and Thirty-ninth Iowa fall back slowly; rebel shot are plowing great furrows in the earth; rebel shot fill the air; they fly everywhere; men are falling; the ground is being covered with the dead and dying. Colonel Rowett is taken to the fort wounded, from which he soon recovers and vigorously enters into the fight. The forts were gained by a fearful sacrifice. Colonel Rowett, with the Seventh and a few companies of the Fifty-seventh and Twelfth Illinois and the Thirty-ninth Iowa, is now in the fort, west of the railroad. Colonel Toutellotte, with the Ninety-third Illinois, Fiftieth Illinois (Colonel Hanna's old half hundred), takes possession of the fort east of the railroad. General Corse takes his position in the fort with Colonel Rowett's brigade, where seems to be the main drift of battle. The retreat into the forts and the necessary dispositions were all performed in a moment performed amid fire and smoke, while noble men were dying. The hurried retreat into the fort seemed to encourage the demons.
"At once they raised so wild a yell,
As if all the fiends from heaven that fell
Had pealed the banner cry of hell."
On, on, with fiendish yells they come rushing to the breach. Over the hills and up the ravines they charge; it is now hand to hand, man to man; Colonel Rowett and his men fight desperately. General Corse is now wounded; he has been fighting manfully; man never before stood as he stood in this scene of death; never before contended as he contended against these fearful odds. Fainting from loss of blood, he has fallen back upon the blood stained ground. It is now half-past ten o'clock. Colonel Rowett assumes command; his first order is to send for Colonel Hanna and his "half hundred." He knows they are the true steel. By the severe fire from the fort west of the railroad the enemy's lines are broken. Colonel Hanna is now cutting his way to Rowett's fort. Crossing the railroad near the depot, he strikes the enemy attempting to burn the warehouse containing the two millions of rations and in a gallant manner drives them back; he rushes into Rowett's fort with a heavy loss. The rebels are now preparing for another desperate charge; reformed, they rush up like mad men threatening to crush into dust the gallant fifteen hundred.
"I heard the bayonets' deadly clang,
As if a hundred anvils rang."
The hills tremble; the fort is wrapped with fearful flame. Amid dying groans the cannon crashes, to sweep down the angry rebels to a suicidal death. The grand one-half hundred, the reckless Seventh, the undaunted Fifty-seventh Illinois, and the fiery Thirty-ninth Iowa, barricade the Allatoona walls. with their frightful steel. Men are falling; their life blood is streaming. The rebels driven to desperation, attempt to cross the defences, but they are thrown back in wild confusion. But lo! they are rallying again, preparing for a third charge. Again they rush on to engage in the awful work of carnage. The smoke from our cannons makes wrathful heaves. Terrible red hot flames of battle shoot from the hill. During the last three hours an interested spectator has been standing upon Kenesaw, watching the progress of the battle. Soon a dispatch is read in the fort:
"Hold Allatoona! hold Allatoona, and I will assist you.
(Signed)
W. T. SHERMAN.”
Closer and closer the determined rebels come; Many have already fallen. Weaker and weaker the command is becoming. The Seventh, with their sixteen-shooters, which has been the main dependence, is now running short of ammunition, and Colonel Rowett orders them to hold their fire, and let the Fiftieth Illinois and the Thirty-ninth Iowa bayonet the rebels in case they attempt again to scale the defences. General Corse, as brave a spirit as ever battled in the cause of human freedom, raises from his matress and cries "Hold Allatoona! hold Allatoona." The third time the rebels are driven back from the fort; they are now preparing for the fourth charge; Colonel Rowett's fort has become one vast slaughter-pen. But look! the frenzied rebels come swarming on to the breach again. This is the hour that will try our steel. They are now passing over their already beaten road, stained with blood. Again they are charging up to crush the Spartan band. It is now one o'clock; for three long hours clouds of darkness have mantled these hills; they now seem to be growing darker. The command is every moment growing weaker and weaker; a large portion of the fifteen hundred have been killed and wounded, and still the battle rages in its mad fury; still the besieged are pressed hard. Colonel Rowett now succeeds in getting the artillery loaded and manned, which for some time has been silent. It is shotted to the muzzle; all ready, the men are commanded to raise the yell, and into the very faces of the rebels the death messengers are hurled, which is repeated several times until the rebels commence to give way in despair. Just at this moment, half-past one o'clock, Colonel Rowett is badly wounded in the head. Captain Rattrey, a member of his staff, being the ranking officer left, now assumes command and heroically carries on the battle. The awful work of death is drawing to a close; the rebels are now flying.
The Seventh, with their sixteen-shooters, are performing a terrible work of death; the enemy is driven from the Allatoona hills like chaff before the winds of heaven.
"None linger now upon the plains,
Save those who ne'er shall fight again."
The great battle of Allatoona is now over; the six thousand rebels, save those who are dead and wounded, are now retreating in commotion from the Allatoona hills. Corse, Rowett and Tourtellotte, with the survivors of the gallant fifteen hundred, fling their tattered and blood washed banners triumphantly over this field of death. As victors of the Pass they stand with about half of their number lying dead and wounded at their feet. We now look around us and behold the forts dripping with blood. Who do we see lying here, cold and stiff? It is our comrade, Samuel Walker. We cast our eyes to another spot; who is that who lies there in such agony, so fearfully wounded? It is the brave Sergeant Edward C. Nichols. Gallant spirit, we fear it will soon take its flight from its tenement of clay. Noble soldier, thy work is done; no more will you be permitted to stand in war's tempest of fire; no more will you battle in this struggle for man's equality. We attempt to move through the fort defended by Colonel Rowett's brigade, and we find it almost impossible without trespassing upon the dead. Oh! what an awful work of death! Has the blood-wrought history of the nineteenth century equaled it! We think not, and we dare say that this generation will pass away ere another Allatoona shall be given to the history of the western world. We succeed in changing our position. Who do we see here, wounded and bleeding? we look again. Our heart beats quick. 'Tis the Hackney brothers, lying side by side. We are wont to say, here we see the embodiment of manhood. They looked like boys before the battle, but they look like men now. Look at that cheek, behold that frightful gash. 'Tis a mark of royalty. When future years shall have rolled down the stream of time, and when the country is at peace, on that cheek will be a scar that will lead the mind back to the eventful years that saw this nation leap like a giant from her thralldom of tyrany. Night now comes on, and soon it commences to rain. The larger companies, E, H and K, with what men they have left, are placed on picket. This is the most doleful night that ever dawned upon the Seventh. While we stand here on these hills, amid storm and rain, our hearts are sad when we look around and see so many of our number still and cold in death, and so many wounded and dying.
"Ah! this morning how lightly throbbed
Full many a heart that death has robbed
Of its pulses warm, and the caskets lie
As cold as the winter's starless sky."
But we all feel glad to-night to know that we hurled back from the pass Hood's angry hosts; that we sustained the flag, saved the two millions of rations, saved Sherman's army, and helped to save the Union. While out here in these dark woods, while the cold winds are blowing, we are thinking of our noble comrades who were wounded to-day. We know that they are suffering to-night. We are all anxious about the gallant Rowett, for the Surgeon tells us that he is dangerously wounded. The prayer of the Seventh to-night is that he may recover; that he may yet live to lead forth, if need be, the gallant old Third Brigade in other battles in the war for the Union.
