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Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 10. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), The battle of Chickamauga-letter from Captain W. N. Polk. (search)
. If it could have been thrown forward to the right in aid of Cleburne, at this opportune moment, the enemy might have been so pressed in front as to have compelled him to keep his troops in position. As it was, he was able to withdraw a portion of his reserve, which, strengthened by brigades from Brannan's and Negley's divisions, operated against Stoval's and Adams's brigades, and forced them back. In this contest, Brigadier-General Adams marked with the scars of Shiloh, Penyville and Murfreesboro, was again wounded, and fell into the enemy's hands. General Bragg, impressed with the necessity of the occasion, detached Jackson's brigade of Cheatham's division, and ordered its commander to report to General Hill, but the support was too feeble to do material service. Hill had four brigades and a regiment in this attack against four divisions of the enemy, three of which were entrenched. The assault was fierce, and, though repelled, bore its fruits; for, as will be seen, it bro
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 10. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), Tribute to the Confederate dead. (search)
, a homage paid through floral offerings symbolizing love and peace, our association offered our dead the highest tribute. What said that pair of scales set there in silent but expressive beauty? Weighed in the balances they were not found wanting. Comrades, I know that as the words of our toast arrest our ears, tender memories are awakened in our hearts — memories of men whose hearts were knit to ours in the camp, the march, the bivouac, the siege and the battle. And as Shiloh, and Murfreesboro, and Chickamauga, and Chattanooga, and Vicksburg, and Atlanta, and Franklin, and Nashville, and Mansfield, and Pleasant Hill, pass before us, familiar forms and faces appear instinct with the life and bright with the light that was the strength and the joy of those camping and campaigning days. And some of them, alas I we see bathed in their blood, shrouded in their blankets and laid away in their nameless graves. Well do I recall our charges up Franklin's fatal slope, and remember how,