r and head down, after the involuntary manner of men
retreating under fire, I came into collision with a man running in a
similar attitude, but headed towards the gap. The shock was so great that
it knocked him down and pretty well knocked the wind out of me. Just as we
met, a rebel shell exploded close over our heads and as his body was
rolling over on the ground, I caught a glimpse of his upturned face and,
in its horrified look, read his belief that it was the shell that had hit
him. The idea was so comical that I laughed, but my laugh was of very
brief duration when I found myself so much disabled that I was rapidly
falling behind. With panting lungs and trembling legs I toiled along,
straining every nerve to reach the breastwork, but when it was yet only a
few steps away, even with life itself at stake, I could go no farther, and
thought my time had come. My brave mother, the daughter of a soldier of
1812 and the granddaughter of a Revolutionary soldier had said, when I had
appealed to the pride in her military ancestry so successfully that she
had consented to my enlistment, "Well, if you must go, don't get shot in
the back." I thought of her and of that saying and faced about to take it
in front. While I was slowly turning, my eyes swept the plain in the
direction of the pike. There were comparatively few of our men in my
immediate vicinity, but over towards the pike the ground was thickly
covered with them, extending from the breastworks nearly a hundred yards
along the pike, and in some places so densely massed as to interfere with
each other's movements. The fleetest footed had already crossed the
breastwork and all those outside were so thoroughly winded that none of
them could go any faster than a slow, labored trot. The rear was brought
up by a ragged fringe of tired stragglers who were walking doggedly along,
apparently with as much unconcern as if no rebels were in sight. The rebel
ranks were almost as badly demoralized by pursuit as ours by retreat.
Their foremost men had already overtaken our rearmost stragglers and were
grabbing hold of them to detain them.

Suddenly my attention was riveted so intently on the nearest rebel to
myself that in watching him I became oblivious to all other surroundings,
for I thought I was looking at the man who would shoot me. He was coming
directly towards me, on a dog trot, less than fifty yards away, and was in
the act of withdrawing the ramrod from the barrel of his gun