rsville, where it halted a few
days, at one time going to guard the railroad, which did not last long
enough to make it pay.

Cartersville is noted for the most remarkable of the monumental remains
in the United States. They are situated upon the right bank of the
Etowah river near the railroad, some two miles south of the town, in
the midst of a perfectly level alluvial bottom, towering above all
surrounding objects, changeless amid the revolutions of centuries. On
good testimony it has been urged that these mounds were built by a race
of people preceding the Indian race. Who they were, and how great that
population was, cannot now be determined. No historian has left the
record of their manners, government and laws; no voice save that silent
speaking testimony of these monuments, proclaims their past greatness.
No reply is heard in definite response by those who knock at their
tombs. The morning the Eighty-sixth left this place, Billy Longfellow
issued rations on the summit of one of these mounds, and the regiment
stacked arms along the road near them.

On the morning of the 13th, the 2nd division of the 14th Corps was set
in motion from Cartersville toward Atlanta, destroying the railway,
founderies, mills, etc., on its route. In not a few instances private
dwellings and private property were laid desolate. Previous to this,
General Sherman had directed all surplus artillery, all baggage not
needed for the contemplated march, all the sick and wounded, refugees
and other encumbrances, to be sent back to Chattanooga. On its march to
Atlanta the division passed over much of the old campaign ground, which
had lost none of its familiarity, seeming as if there had been no lapse
of time.

The Kenesaw was natural, and the dreadful battlefield of the 27th of
June, where so many of our slain comrades lie buried, and whose graves
were yet fresh, had undergone no change except that the leaves had
ripened and fallen to the ground. Even as the leaves wither and fall,
so must man, and we were made sad in contemplating the fearful, bloody
past.

The division crossed the Chattahoochie river in the forenoon of the
15th, and arrived in Atlanta in time to draw clothing, provisions,
etc., preparatory to the uncertain actions of the morrow. Atlanta on
this occasion seemed to be swallowed up in flames. Bright, lurid lights
were seen springing up in every quarter. It seemed that the once proud
and defiant city was bidding earth farewel