Sorrow returned with the dawning of morn And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away

Sorrow returned with the dawning of morn And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away

". . . I firmly believe, that if we continue successful a few months longer, the war will close this year, and, as God has hitherto protected me so long amid so many dangers, I trust it is not presumption in me to hope for his protection to the end." . . . It is a little curious to me that, though constantly falling back, I thought then that we were successful. I suppose it must have been that, so far as the mere fighting was concerned, we always held our own, as General Armstrong, in his letter, says, never "yielding except under orders," and for another reason, that the confidence in General Johnston was so great that we all felt that he would at last crush Sherman's army, and I believe he would have done it, if he had not been removed from the command. Besides, I made it a rule always to write home cheerfully, for it was bad enough there anyway without the apprehension of defeat.

On the afternoon of the 23d, the day my letter was written, our brigade was ten or twelve miles to the west of Cartersville, observing the enemy, who that evening crossed the Etowah at Stilesborough, of which General Johnston was duly apprised, as appears from his report "that Jackson's troops reported enemy moving down Etowah, which they crossed at Stilesborough on 23d." Our brigade fell back slowly, and on the 25th found ourselves in rear and to the left of General Hood's corps, which had its center at New Hope Church, and where a desperate assault was made late that evening, with a bloody repulse to the enemy, whose loss was estimated at three thousand killed and wounded, and our loss about
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four hundred and fifty. This battle lasted about two hours, and we were in full hearing of the horrid roar of the guns without taking any part, for we had other duties assigned to us. On the 26th we moved still farther to the left, and on the 27th another fierce assault was made on Cleburne's division, with about the same loss to the enemy and to us. Generals Polk and Hardee had fallen back a little south of Dallas, where the enemy had arrived on the 25th, and had intrenched. I take these figures and dates from General Johnston's report before alluded to. On the morning of the 28th of May we -- our brigade under General Armstrong, for General Jackson was now in command of his division -- were in rear of the left of General Polk's corps, which had its left intrenched in front of the enemy before Dallas. General Johnston disposes of the events of that day by saying, the "usual skirmishing was kept up.

" Armstrong's brigade did not consider it a skirmish in which late in the day they were engaged, nor was it, as the account will show. While resting quietly about half a mile in rear of our works and listening to the incessant rattle of small arms with the occasional bursting of shells, sometimes in the tree-tops over our heads, General Armstrong received an order to leave only his horse-holders and move his brigade up and occupy the trenches on the left which had been vacated by a brigade of infantry moved to some other point. We did not reach the trenches without having a few wounded, for the enemy's fire of small arms was constant, and we had to cross an open field to get to our place. Once there, we were safe enough if we kept under the shelter of the works, but several men were wounded and one killed by incautiously exposing himself. Colonel Pinson went to where Armstrong was, near the center of the brigade (we were on its right), and as I saw nothing to do, I walked carefully along the works to a battery on a hill just a
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little ways off, and where the left of General Bates' division rested. In our front was thick woods, and though the enemy's works were not more than two hundred yards away, we could not see them, and this I hoped to be able to do from this hill where the battery was. I stopped a moment to look through an embrasure at the battery, and a half dozen minie-balls hissed viciously by my head, and I quickly got behind the fortification. One of the artillerymen said to me, "You made a narrow escape; I have seen several men killed and wounded at that place." If he had warned me beforehand it would have been more to the purpose. I caught, however, a good look at a part of their works, which seemed very strong, and I had no doubt were well manned.

I returned in a few minutes to the regiment, taking good care as I passed the embrasure, and a little later Colonel Pinson came back and informed me General Armstrong had received an order from General Bates, at a given signal (a cannon-shot) to assault the enemy's works on our front. He said, further, that General Bates was of the opinion that the enemy had only a skirmish line in the works, and that his division would advance as we did. I told Pinson what I had seen, and that I was satisfied the enemy were in their works in force, for it was certain they had artillery; but, of course, we were powerless, and had nothing to do but obey. It was late in the afternoon when the shot came, and the whole brigade with a cheer scaled the works and dashed forward. I felt we were going to a useless slaughter of brave men, for if there was only a skirmish line it would be withdrawn at night, but if the enemy were in force nothing but disaster could come of the assault. I copy from the last letter written from Georgia home which was received and has escaped destruction, written the next day, and briefly describing the battle: