Confederate Veteran e-bog

Whilst the greatest effort has been made to ensure the quality of this text, due to the historical nature of this content, in some rare cases there may be minor issues with legibility. When we reached the hills on the Columbia road overlook ing the plain on which Franklin is situated, we had a view of the heavy task before us. It was a beautiful day, soft as a day in May, and the blue grass pastures invited to a pic nic of peace rather than the fierce combat impending. At once Stewart's Corps was sent east to the right toward the Lewis burg pike, while Cheatham's Corps was mainly on the right, west of the Columbia Pike, and by four o'clock, a little before sundown, we were drawn up in line of battle, ready for the charge. I think every one of us realized the desperateness of our undertaking and the impending harvest of death. Many of the men came to me, both officers and privates, asking me to take charge of souvenirs, letters, pictures, jewelry, watches. But I had to decline, for I was going in with them and was to be exposed to the same danger. There lay just before our division (walthall's) a large body of woodland, separating us from the open field across which we were to charge. That field, extending from the railroad to the Federal works, was for several hundred yards bare of trees or shrubs, giving full sweep to the enemy's guns, musketry and artillery. We had no artillery, only musket and bayonet. While we were stand ing in line a shell burst over us and wounded two or three men. Then came the wild charge we made.