The Atlanta constitution. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1885-19??, 1894-06-18
Plunkett's Story.

Little readers would not know without
Delng told what manner of country it is
that give the name of evidences" to
Grants first great battle with Lee. Upon
a part of this same battlefield there had
been some terrible fighting once before
it was called the battle of Charlottesville
this first fight, and it was there that Stone
wall jackson received the deadly wounds.
charlottesville was a little settlement
just on the edge of great pine wilderness
great old tavern" being the most promi-
nent thing of the town-if it rose to the
dignity of town. These pines did not
grow tall and slim, our Georgia pines
but limbs reached close down to the ground.
and spread into tangled meshes of wild
WOOD. In places, it was hard for men to
pass erect among these limbs, and once
during the battle General a. r. Wright
Rance Wright, the soldiers called him.
was caught by the hair and jerked from
his horse by these limbs. General Wright
wore his hair long like a lady, but the
golden curls did not impress with a
tnld1ty in keeping with female character
as the battle raged-as q lion he moved and
his golden curs shook like a lions mane-
but he came near being hung like Absolem
in these pines at ChancellOrSv vile. This
section was once a mining region, ana the
OLD mines We're yet there, and furnished
,saelter, at times to whichever side CHANGED
! to have them. Just a few old deserted houses
stood here and there scattered through this
great wilderness, and it was just such
place as the poor refugees of that period
felt themselves secure in from the terrors
of war which had so overrun the grand
'old dominion"
1t is of one of these 'refugeed" families
l wish to tell you, and of the herosm of
a sweet little girl of that poor family. In
one of these old deserted houses good
mother with three little children had taken
up her abode, and they We're happy in the
thought that at last they had found
place to rest in peace from the terrors
which had followed them and pressed them
from happy home in the valley beyond
the Blue Ridge Never did they dream
that an army would enter this great will
derness; but in this they were mistaken,
for twice did two great armies struggle
there.
A bright morning, about the first of May
1862 the good mother found it necessary to
go up the river to a mill to secure some
bread She kissed the little children, and
tears came to her eyes as she charged
little Mary not to get scared, and to take
good care of the baby and little Bob.
Once along the rivers bank, the mother
found dim trail which made her journey
easier than pressing through the tange
of the main wood. 1t some four miles
to the mill, making it quite a job for this
delicate mother, who had been reared with
the instincts associated with the refine
ments of the cold Virginia home" to travel
there and back with her load of grinding
in one day And she did not return in one
day, for, before she knew it, Hooker had
crossed his army over the river, swung it
round and was between her and her little
ones at the desolate home. The first she
knew the pickets We're firing, and then
the skirmishing got lively, while now and
then battery would turn loose a volley of
bp oil
which were thrown in front as "feelers'
before the advancing hosts
l will not attempt to describe the feelings
of that mother when she took in the situa-
ton. Her "grinding" forgot, the tired
feeling was all gone The tangled meshes
of the wilderness no longer stayed her
movements, but, with fieetness akin to
wldness, she pressed through, unheeding
the scars she was giving to her own tender
flesh. The little ones at home-if it be
called a home-Mary, but twelve years old
herself, and little Bob and the baby both
to care for. This was the thought that was
in that mothers heart when she ran right
upon the line of battle of Hooker's right
She must stop-war knows no mercy, but
many a brave yankee in Hoolzer's line
that dav shed tears of sorrow as she told
her tale and struggled to get free.
We must leave the mother, though we
leave her in tears, and go to the house
Wnefe Mary, little BOD ana the DaDy are
crouching in fear the battle RACES. Poor
little Mary; how she longs for the mother
who cannot pass the battle line The balls
rattle upon the old house, and shells go
tearing through the pines of the Wilderness
Never once did Mary think of deserving
her post. God will protect us and mother
will come" what she whispered to
little Bob as a great shell crashed through
the old house. But there came something
more terrible than the balls. The wilder
ness was on fire! They could see the leap
ing flames through a crack in the boards.