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SOME PAGES TROM ME SCRAP ROOK CONFEDERATE HEROES. Hon. Thos. E. Watson, Thomson, Ga. Dear Sir: In the Civil War there was so much hard, desperate fighting and so many brave men, it was only on rare occasions that a soldier could perform some deed worthy of the plaudits of his comrades. I belong ed to Company M, First Regiment of Georgia regulars, composed of brave men, thoroughly disciplined and un der the command of brave and fear less officers, and it was but natural that I should see many thrilling deeds of bravery during the war. But the bravest and most unselfish act I saw performed was by Privates David Gann and Pat Kelly, of my company, at the battle of Peach Or chard, on the 29th day of June, 1862, during the seven days’ fighting around Richmond, Va. In order to better understand my narrative, we will go back to the be ginning of the siege of Richmond. After retreating from Yorktown, the Army of Northern Virginia, un der the command, of General J. E. Johnston, arrived in the vicinity of Richmond on the 17th day of March, 1862, and occupied a position five miles north of the city. The next day the Army of the Potomac, under the command of General George B. McClellan, arrived and formed in front of the Confederates, with his line <>xtend|ing from White Oak swamp to Mechanicsville, a distance of fifteen miles, crossing the Chicka hominy river at Meadows Bridge. The battle of Seven Pines, or Fair Oaks, was fought on the 31st day of May, and continued on the morning of the first day of June, until General J. E. Johnston was desperately wounded and carried from the field. General Robert E. Lee, who was in Rich mond, military adviser to President Davis, was ordered to take command, and rode to the front a comparative stranger to the soldiers on the field. But the man and his opportunity, had met, as the sequel showed. General Lee ordered the troops martialed at Seven Pines back to their original position on the line, while the Fed erals, no doubt, returned to their picks and shovels, strengthening their formidable line of works, in terspersed with numerous field and siege batteries along the line. In the meantime the fertile military brain of General Lee was arranging to spring a surprise on his friends, the enemy. General Stonewall Jackson, the greatest military genius produced by the Civil War, with a force of 30,- 000 men, had just achieved a series of brilliant victories in the’ valley be yond the Blue Ridge Mountains, over Fremont, Shields and Banks, and was ordered to General Lee’s support. By forced marches his famous foot cavalry reached the vicinity of Me chanicsville on the 26th day of June, and his opening gun was the first news McClellan had of his approach. I have a letter from a soldier in the 53rd Virginia Regiment in regard to that first gun. He states that a farm house in the rear of Mechanicsville was used as headquarters by a Fed eral general, and on the 26th day of June several generals were gathered in his room with charts and maps showing the position of Johnston and the three Federal commanders in the valley. All of them decided that Johnston and his army had been gobbletrup. That decision was reach ed, as that first gun was fired, the shell crashing through the house where they were seated. General Jackson, by turning the Federal right flank, enabled General Lee, with Longstreet and D. H. Hill, to cross the river above Meadows Bridge and join their forces with his, leaving General John B. Magruder with 25,- 000 men between the left wing of the Federal army and Richmond. The battle of Mechanicsville on the 26th day of June was a bloody one, so was Coal Harbor on the 27th, and Gains Mill on the 28th, Lee’s forces driving everything before them. Dur ing the night of the 28th the right wing of the Federal army recrossed the river and joined the left; at the same time the left was withdrawn from Magruder’s front. Magruder’s left was on Garnett’s Farm, held by General Tige Anderson’s Brigade, and during the night remained in line of battle, with orders to sleep on our arms. Before sunrise on Sunday morn ing scouts were sent forward, who discovered that the enemy’s works had been deserted, and when they re turned and reported, the command was ordered to the front, marching out left in front. We passed the birch house on Garnett’s Farm, then crossed the branch on to Golden’s Farm, and while marching through we met a cavalryman who had been in the enemy’s camp, riding at full speed, holding aloft in his right hand a woman’s garment. He was greeted with that hair-raising rebel yell as he passed down the line. Nothing but a garment, but worn by a wo man. What a marvelous influence the fair sex wielded over the soldier boys. We passed around the ex treme right of the enemy’s works next to the river, and soon entered their deserted camps, with the tents all standing as though they were out on parade. After passing through the camp the brigade was halted, and the regulars were ordered to the front, where we were deployed a.s skirmishers and advanced through a thick piece of woods. The boys must Lave been like myself, thought the Yankees were gone for good, as some were singing, while others whistled as as we made our way through the thick bushes. Without a moment’s warn ing, we received a volley in our faces, the enemy being not more than forty feet away. They then retreated on the double-quick, while out lino was halted. .1 saw a short distance in our front an old stubble field, and by looking closely through the bushes saw what must have caused my knees to bump together, cold chills to run up my back, and my hair to rise up. About 200 yards distant was a small stream. WATSON’S WEEKLY JEFFERSONIAN. with trees scattered along near its course, and behind them was posted the enemy’s skirmish line. Beyond the stream was a large field, and about sixty yards from the stream 1 counted eight pieces of artillery in position ready for action, and on their left a line of infantry drawn up in line of battle. 1 could only see four or five companies of the right regiment, but there was a brigade of five thousand men in line. You might have called me a weak-kneed soldier, but the eight companies to the right of me had the woods to advance through, while the company we had had to make the distance in full view and under the fire of the ene my. After a few minutes’ halt we wqre _ forward again, and when Company M reached the clear ing we changed. We knew the bat tery and line of battle would not fire while their skirmishers were in front, and we knew the quicker we could get over the ground the fewer shots *they would get. Besides, we wanted rout the skirmishers and get possession of the trees before the line opened fire. As I reached the stream, I saw a broad-shouldered fellow about half way between the branch and the line, Bringing my gun to my shoulder, I took deliberate aim at the small of his back and fired, and with a spring and a bound I landed in the under brush behind a good-sized tree, and none too soon, as both the battery and line opened, the bullets striking the trees and bushes like a summer shower of rain, and the battle was on in all its fury. In the meantime a four-gun Confederate battery dash ed on the field, in the rear of Com pany M, and opened fire, placing Company M between the two bat teries, making one side of the tree as safe as the other. But the fire of the Confederate battery was of short duration, as they were disabled and carried from the field. After the fight had raged for some time a ball was lodged in my gun, and I stepped back from the tree to drive it up, by striking the rammer against the tree. A musket ball struck my left arm above the elbow, and my arm drop ped limp by my side, being complete ly paralyzed, and for hours I could not move a finger. ' Seating myself near the little stream, I thought I could resuscicate my by bathing and rubbing it. While thus engaged, my brother, who was behind the next tree, was mortally wounded, receiv ing a musket ball and buckshot in his left side. Sergeant W. J. Garrett proposed to carry him out, but I told him it would be worth any man’s life to attempt it, and we would wait for a better opportunity. After the battle had been raging for several hours, a regiment flanked our line on the left and a retreat was ordered; the men about faced and were quickly out of sight, and the Federate ceased firing. God alone will ever know the an guish of my heart when I realized that my brother and myself had been left to our fate. Aiding or relieving PAGE THREE him was out of the question, while my left arm hung limp by my side, and he weighed 185 pounds and help less. All that I could do was to drop down by his side and share his fate. While it seemed like an age, it might have been only a few minutes when I heard footsteps approaching, and a cheerful voice say, “Billie, we will carry him out.” I recognized the voice of David Gann, and when I looked up saw that Pat Kelly was with him. If Gann and Kelly had been near my brother when the re treat was ordered, I would have thought it nothing more than their duty to carry him out, but they were some distance to our left, and the news must have been carried to them down the lines. They could have re treated like the rest of the company, but that would have been deserting a wounded comrade on the field, and a brave soldier could never do that. They picked him up between them, while I carried the guns, and as we entered the clearing in full view of the enemy, the artillery and every musket in sight opened fire. Talk about Hades or the air full of the missiles of death, but that was the hottest place that I have ever been in. The ground was ploughed up, and dirt thrown over us by cannister and bursting shells, while the air was full of musket balls. How either one of us escaped death has always been a mystery to me; but I have always believed that an all seeing eye was watching over those brave boys in their heroic effort to save their wounded comrade. They could not carry him over thirty steps without putting him down, and all the time he was begging them to leave him. '‘Leave me, boys,” he would say, ‘‘and save yourselves; you will never live to carry me out.” But they paid no more heed to his pleading than the storm of iron and lead that was around them. After carrying him 150 yards under fire, they enter ed a dim trail through the woods, and the firing ceased. They carried him half a mile to a farm house, placed him on a mattress, with his head in my lap, then returned to the com pany. An hour later he was sent in an ambulance to the Birch Home on Garnett’s Farm, and fifteen minutes later his brave spirit winged its fight to that home where all good soldiers who did their full and complete duty are at rest. In the meantime -the Federate had retreated to Savage Station, with the regulars in pursuit, where Lee and McClellan again hooked horns, and a desperate battle ensued. After my brother had been carried off, I started in search of my com pany, and when I crossed the little stream where he was wounded, I looked for the man I shot at, but failed to find him, but found his knapsack, bored through and blood ied by a musket ball. The dead and wounded had been carried off when they retreated. Near the little stream I saw what I have never seen before or since, a dead man laugh ( Continued on Page Fourteen.)