The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1895-12-05

| order toward the crest. over the second line
its occupants either surrenderiDg or joining
in the wild, mad fight
The fleeing rebels on their Fl ont gave our
boys immunity from the guns on the crest
for although they kept up vigorous fire,
they had to fire over our boys to protect
| their own.
Thus our men reached and carried the line
on the crest, driving the rebels from their
cannons, which were turned on them as they
| fed down the ether side. The last red rays Of
| the Indian Summers sun as it sank behind
the western hills fell upon the rebel center
efiectually broken and in flight, though their
! right still held their position in our i'm
mediate front. But one by one their CUES
were hushed as night settled over the con-
test, and the rays of the full moon broke
through the rising smoke and threw mellow
light over the scenes Of carnage, where
charges and counter-charges had strewn the
field with mixture of blue and gray, of
friend and foe, the wounded, the dying, and
the dead.
The battle of Chattanooga was fought and
won, though we on the left did not know it
at the time but we looked for renewal Of
the contest on the morrow, as their right was
still on our front in heavy mass, with their
caInpGres still cleaning as had been their
wont. But along the crested highs their
campfres burned into embers, srnoldered into
cold, gray ashes, and, like the last ambitious
hope of the Confederacy, died out as their
troops were madly hurrying away in full re-
treat, leaving their dead and wounded on
the field.
Daylight showed not n single able-bodied
rebel in sight, and the light of the mornings
sun fell on a scene Of defeat where they had
so confidently predicted a victory. But a
new light threw luster over cloud-capped
Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge. a
light OF hope and faith in the gallant Grant.
whose previous success at Vicksburg had
dlspelled all shadows that had been thrown
athwart the bright pathway of his rising
fame at Shiloh. The luster of his fame was
now untarnished as he stood surrounded by
that bright galaxy Of stars - Sherman.
Thomas, Mcpherson, Logan, Sheridan,
Hooker and Howard.
However bright and promising had been
the rebel hope OF ultimate success prior TO
Gettysburg, VicksbuIg, and Chattanooga,
the bright promise was now forever obliter-
afed, and the finger of Fate pointed so I'M
erringly to defeat that the candid historian
can but admit that from this time on, the
prosecution of the war in behalf of secession
was wanton crime in the sacrifice of human
life for an ostensihle cause that was so mani
testify hopeless. All hope of triumph by arms
or OF foreign intervention was gone forever
But sheer obstinacy and bad cOunsels pre-
vailed to proiract the war, and from the sum-
mt OF high Lookout you could cast your eve
ever the broad eXpanse Of varied scenery TO-
ward the east, In which Nature has been Law
ish to profuson in bestowing beauty of seen
cry, over which the eye fingers as it is yainly
strained TO catch the first glimpse of the
dawn of peace. 1t is Kaleidoscope view
the Kaleidoscope of war, in which red is
the predominating color. Is ii merely the
brilliant coloring which Nature bestows on
the Autumn foliage OF is it the blood of
battles yet TO come, ere the proud flag of
secession as forever furled in the awful ST.
lence OF defeat aud despair, seen through
the glintiDg of bristling bayonets and flash
Ing sabeTs-through the lifting smoke of
battle and across the misty mountain-tops
toward the far-away Potomac? Yes, the
red tide OF war, with its alternating ebb and
flow, must still surge between the highest
signal-siation on the Cumberland Mountains
and far-away Appomatiox, with its long
lines of detected men In Confederate gray,
with iurled banners-its long lines OF stacked
arms aud huttering white nags-on that
coming glad morning of April 8, 1865.
The line OF march from the one to the
other is long and weary, and lies through
dark valleys running red with the best
blood of heroes where the sickle of Death
swings with relentless fury; where the yells
OF agony and groans of defiance from tram
pied thousands, on the hard-contested fields
OF the Wilderness, Spottsylvania, Cold Har-
Dor, and Five Forks must be answered back
from an echoing wave hurled from Kenesaw
Mountain, Atlanta, Franklin, and Nashville,
when enveloped in the misty smoke wreaths
OF deadly strife. The rising sun at Apo
mattox is still Obscured by the smoke of