A frightful scene.
--The
Atlanta correspondent of the Columbus
Times gives the following description of the scene that followed the explosion of one of the enemy's shells in the basement of the Presbyterian Church on Marietta street:
On Wednesday night a large 42-pound shell entered the Presbyterian Church, on Marietta street and, after passing through the pulpit, exploded in the basement, or Sunday-school room.
Several families living in the vicinity, having taken refuge there, were more or less stunned and injured by the explosion, and one man had his right arm taken off. The scene in the room was frightful; it was after midnight, and all the inmates were sleeping peacefully, perfectly confident of security.
Mothers caught up their children hurriedly and rushed frantically into the streets screaming, though without any definite purpose in view save that of escaping for the time from the scene which had struck such terror into their souls, and there, out upon the streets, they stood crouching, with their little families clinging around them, and knowing not where to fly for safety.
Shell after shell, in rapid succession, came screaming through the air, and as the light of each terrific explosion — like lightning flashes — quivered over them, the figure of one pale faced mother could be described, with bare, outstretched arms, vainly hoping to shield her little ones from the falling fragments.
Oh, the heartless cruelty of the foe ! Oh, the mighty depths of a mother's love?
Assistance came at last, however, and the panic stricken women and children were huddled off into the bomb-proofs of kind neighbors in more secure localities, and the wounded properly cared for.
