eral was captured and his horse given to the bruised man, who
congratulated the rider on his promotion to a respectable service. I
dismounted, gave my horse to Tom to lead, and marched with the guard.
From time to time the enemy would charge, but we could hear him coming
and be ready. The guard would halt, about face, front rank with fixed
bayonets kneel, rear rank fire, when, by the light of the flash, we
could see emptied saddles. Our pursuers' fire was wild, passing over
head; so we had few casualties, and these slight; but they were bold and
enterprising, and well led, often charging close up to the bayonets. I
remarked this, whereupon the Irishmen answered, "Devil thank 'em for
that same." There was no danger on the flanks. The white of the pike
alone guided us. Owls could not have found their way across the fields.
The face of the country has been described as a succession of rolling
swells, and later the enemy got up guns, but always fired from the
summits, so that his shells passed far above us, exploding in the
fields. Had the guns been trained low, with canister, it might have
proved uncomfortable, for the pike ran straight to the south. "It was a
fine night intirely for divarsion," said the Irishmen, with which
sentiment I did not agree; but they were as steady as clocks and chirpy
as crickets, indulging in many a jest whenever the attentions of our
friends in the rear were slackened. They had heard of Shields's
proximity, and knew him to be an Irishman by birth, and that he had
Irish regiments with him. During an interlude I was asked if it was not
probable that we would encounter Shields, and answering affirmatively,
heard: "Them Germans is poor creatures, but Shields's boys will be after
fighting." Expressing a belief that my "boys" could match Shields's any
day, I received loud assurance from half a hundred Tipperary throats:
"You may bet your life on that, sor." Thus we beguiled the weary hours.
During the night I desired to relieve the guard, but was diverted from
my purpose by scornful howls of "We are the boys to see it out." As
Argyle's to the tartan, my heart has warmed to an Irishman since that
night.

Daylight came, and I tried to brace myself for hotter work, when a body
of troops was reported in position to the south of my column. This
proved to be Charles Winder with his (formerly Jackson's own) brigade.
An accomplished soldier and true brother-in-arms, he had heard the
enemy's guns during the