d hence, _bis
peccare in bello non licet_.

GENERAL HOOD TAKES COMMAND

It came like a flash of lightning, staggering and blinding every one.
It was like applying a lighted match to an immense magazine. It was like
the successful gambler, flushed with continual winnings, who staked his
all and lost. It was like the end of the Southern Confederacy. Things
that were, were not. It was the end. The soldier of the relief guard
who brought us the news while picketing on the banks of the Chattahoochee,
remarked, by way of imparting gently the information--

"Boys, we've fought all the war for nothing. There is nothing for us in
store now."

"What's the matter now?"

"General Joe Johnston is relieved, Generals Hardee and Kirby Smith has
resigned, and General Hood is appointed to take command of the Army of
Tennessee."

"My God! is that so?"

"It is certainly a fact."

"Then I'll never fire another gun. Any news or letters that you
wish carried home? I've quit, and am going home. Please tender my
resignation to Jeff Davis as a private soldier in the C. S. Army."

Five men of that picket--there were just five--as rapidly as they could,
took off their cartridge-boxes, after throwing down their guns, and
then their canteens and haversacks, taking out of their pockets their
gun-wipers, wrench and gun-stoppers, and saying they would have no more
use for "them things." They marched off, and it was the last we ever saw
of them. In ten minutes they were across the river, and no doubt had
taken the oath of allegiance to the United States government. Such was
the sentiment of the Army of Tennessee at that time.

CHAPTER XIII

ATLANTA

HOOD STRIKES

General John B. Hood had the reputation of being a fighting man, and
wishing to show Jeff Davis what a "bully" fighter he was, lights in on
the Yankees on Peachtree creek. But that was "I give a dare" affair.
General William B. Bate's division gained their works, but did not long
hold them.

Our division, now commanded by General John C. Brown, was supporting
Bate's division; our regiment supporting the Hundred and Fifty-fourth
Tennessee, which was pretty badly cut to pieces, and I remember how mad
they seemed to be, because they had to fall back.

Hood thought he would strike while the iron was hot, and while it could
be hammered into shape, and make the Yankees believe that it was the
powerful arm of old Joe that was wielding the sledge.

But he w