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Battle of Pickett’s Mill —First Volley from the Confederates.
by his personal skill and dash.
“Thence on Hooker’s left, and coming up this
way, is Palmer’s corps. They are good fighters,
too, and we have our hands full holding them off;
but they have not made such progress as they must
naturally desire, even if they have overwhelm
ing numbers. Further up this way, and almost
beneath us, is the Fourth Corps, which General
Howard commands. He is the one, you know,
that Pat Cleburne administered such a terrible
drubbing to, over near New Hope Church and
Pickett’s Mill on the 27th of last month, and, by
the way, that was northwest of here, to the right of
Lost Mountain, which you see rising so promi
nently over yonder.
“Cleburne was on our right up there, and the
Yankees were trying to Hank us that evening, and
he was ordered to check the movement at all haz
ards. He took position in the forest on the hill
side, and the Yankees came down the opposite hill
and up that one in six linefe. They marched up
the ascending slope until all at once their front line
found itself facing Cleburne’s men in the open
forest. There was not the sign of a breastwork
occupied by either. Cleburne made his men hold
their lire until the Yankees had come up to within
about fifteen paces of them, and then gave the
order. Such a destructive volley has scarcely ever
been seen in warfare. It is said that out of several
hundred men only seven were left standing. The
next column came up; but our boys had gotten
ready again, and felled nearly every one of them
with the second volley. Then they had it hot and
heavy for awhile; but the Yankees were utterly
routed.”
“Then we gave them the worst kind of a beating,
didn’t we, Captain Ward?” said Jack.
“Yes, Jack,” answered Captain Ward, laughing
heartily, “we gave them as bad a beating as they
ever had;” and, continuing, he said, “Down in
front of the mountain, and joining Howard’s corps
on the left, is Logan’s, which extends, fronting us,
to and across the Western & Atlantic Railroad,
which crosses No >nday valley on that huge red
embankment you see down yonder; and o nthat
little rise which you observe just west of the rail
road, the Yankees in his command are constructing
a casemated battery which, I fear, will worry us a
great deal.”
“What is a casemated battery?” inquired Miss
Harper.
“Why, it is one which is covered up. They first
make entrenchments and put their cannon in them,
and then build a framework of logs above, and on
the top they place a timber roof over all these, and
on this roof they pile a thick layer of earth, so that
a shell from above falling upon it, makes practically
no impression. We have either to fire right into v.
port-hole or our discharge goes for nothing. From
this elevation, or from a long distance, a shot will
not enter a casemated battery.
“Over on this line to the east of the railroad,
fronting Great Kennesaw and extending east of it,
is Blair’s corps, as we undersand it. They only
arrived at the front and re-enforced Sherman’s
army last week. Several days ago they made an
impetuous attack upon and .captured an entire regb
THE KENNESAW GAZETTE.
ment of our boys. The men on top of the moun
tain saw the whole thing; but there was no means
of signaling them to retreat.
“And that reminds me, look yonder to the sum
mit of Great Kennesaw, Miss Harper, see that red
flag which the man on top of the rock is waving as
against the sky. That is our signal flag. That is
now being watched through field-glasses from Mari
etta and from several other points. The man is
giving information of the Yankee army’s movements
as seen from the mountain top.
“A few’ days ago I remember his message was
one which brought poignant grief to every man in
the army. It was the information that our grand
Bisbop-General Polk had just been killed on the
summit of Pine Mountain. The information was
signalled from the station on Pine Mountain to that
on Kennesaw, and thence repeated to the other
stations around here. Ah! that was worse than a
killing in battle, —that was a tragedy.”
“Yes,” exclaimed Miss Harper with a shudder,
“that was war’s most awful tragedy. May God
have mercy upon the hands that did it!”
“After his death,” continued Captain Ward,
“his remains were brought down to the Hardage
house, which you see in that clump of trees yonder
to the northwest, and scarcely a half mile from the
western end of the mountain. The Burnt Hickory
road from Marietta runs right by the house. The
body of the noble old man lay in an ambulance
under a grand oak tree for a couple of hours before
they got everything ready and carried it to'Marietta
to send to Augusta for burial.”
“Yes,” said Miss Harper,” “I remember coming
up from Atlanta on the train several days ago, and
the conductor, Mr. Sanford Bell, was telling me
that the Bishop’s remains were carried down to
Atlanta on his train.”
“Bui let us go forward a little,” said the captain,
“and we can look immediately down the mountain
side on the north. Hear that whistle! and look
yonder, Miss Harper, toward Big Shanty. See the
train of cars coming down the Western & Atlan
tic Railroad, in the rear of the Yankee lines and
toward the mountain. Ah, the rascals! the very
same railroad which is our sole dependence for sup
plies from the south is also their sole, means of
communication with the north. Where we have it,
it is our salvation, and where they have it, it is one
of the strongest weapons against us. Their every
great movement heretofore has been for the purpose
of breaking it in our rear, and thus paralyzing us;
and we could afford to give almost a fourth of our
army if we could ruin it in their rear.
“And, by the way, speaking of the railroad
reminds me of an achievement by a Yankee engi
neer several days ago, which, although it chagrined
us a good deal at the time, yet, I must confess,
appeals more highly to our admiration than to our
resentment.
“While a number of us were strengthening our
works on the mountain, and otherwise occupying
our time as profitably as soldiers on the lookout can,
some one called our attention to a locomotive
which was coming down from the direction of Big
Shanty toward the mountain.
“ ‘What are they after?’ was the general inquiry,
‘is it bearing a flag of truce?’
“Through our field-glasses several of us could
see the engine as it came at the rate of six or eight
miles an hour toward our lines.
“Our soldiers in the breastworks could be ob
served getting upon the parapets in swarms, and
we could imagine the curiosity they felt at seeii g
the Yankee locomotive coming straight forward, as
if its engineer was trying to get away from o d
Sherman and bring a first-class prize with him as
an offering of loyalty to us.
“Suddenly he began to slow down, and within
less than a minute the engine stopped, apparently
within scarcely a hundred yards in front of our
works.
“We then saw her begin to back toward the
Yankee fines, after her engineer had first made her
give a saucy, shrill whistle which was plainly heard
by every man up here.
“The next instant we could see an irregular suc
cession of puffs of smoke breaking forth from all
along our breastworks as far as they were within
range or sight of her, and a moment afterward the
rattling sound of musketry was faintly heard from
below.
“‘Spying our works, by jingo!’ yelled a soldier
up here, and another added, ‘Ain’t that the most
audacious trick you ever saw a Yankee pl?y?’
“Another shrill blast of the whistle was heard, as
the engine began accelerating her backward motion
every instant.
“All at once the boom of a cannon was heard,
and we saw the cloud of smoke arising from that
high hill on the right of the railroad, which is
called Brush Mountain, and a smaller cloud and
report right beyond the now flying locomotive told
us that a shell had been sent after her by one of
our batteries.
“The example was contagious, and from all
along the top of the mountain the yell arose, ‘Open
fire upon the impudent scoundrels, and blow their
engine up.’
“Every artilleryman, without needing orders,
ran to the guns, and, before a minute had elapsed,
one of Guibor’s guns banged aw T ay and sent a shell
after her. But, gracious! the shell missed her fully
three hundred yards. For once in his life Sam
Kennard made a bad shot.
“The rest of us followed suit, and the loud reports
from Big Kennesaw told that the artillery over
there was also after her.
“We could see the smoke from the explosion of
our shells and from those on the hills below, but
I don’t think a single one struck within a hun
dred yards of the engine. The Yankee escaped,
and no doubt was a great hero in his camp, —and
deservedly so I must admit, for it was certainly a
most daring deed, and one which calls for the
applause of all brave men.
“We were naturally a little fretted at the success
of the fellow in coming almost into our lines and
then giving us the slip, and in the most saucy man-
Death of General Polk.
ner tod; but next morning we felt somewhat dis
comfited when some one told us that a Yankee
picket who had been captured, had stated that the
engineer and an officer, named Potter, had been
sent down toward our lines in the locomotive, by
(Co/itinwed on page 5.)
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