t two hundred yards, when General Cheatham's presence
reassured them, and they soon were in line and ready to follow so brave
and gallant a leader, and had that order of "cease firing, you are firing
on your own men," not been given, Maney's brigade would have had the
honor of capturing eighteen pieces of artillery, and ten thousand
prisoners. This I do know to be a fact.

As I went back to the field hospital, I overtook another man walking
along. I do not know to what regiment he belonged, but I remember of
first noticing that his left arm was entirely gone. His face was as
white as a sheet. The breast and sleeve of his coat had been torn away,
and I could see the frazzled end of his shirt sleeve, which appeared to
be sucked into the wound. I looked at it pretty close, and I said "Great
God!" for I could see his heart throb, and the respiration of his lungs.
I was filled with wonder and horror at the sight. He was walking along,
when all at once he dropped down and died without a struggle or a groan.
I could tell of hundreds of such incidents of the battlefield, but tell
only this one, because I remember it so distinctly.

ROBBING A DEAD YANKEE

In passing over the battlefield, I came across a dead Yankee colonel.
He had on the finest clothes I ever saw, a red sash and fine sword.
I particularly noticed his boots. I needed them, and had made up my mind
to wear them out for him. But I could not bear the thought of wearing
dead men's shoes. I took hold of the foot and raised it up and made one
trial at the boot to get it off. I happened to look up, and the colonel
had his eyes wide open, and seemed to be looking at me. He was stone
dead, but I dropped that foot quick. It was my first and last attempt
to rob a dead Yankee.

After the battle was over at Murfreesboro, that night, John Tucker and
myself thought that we would investigate the contents of a fine brick
mansion in our immediate front, but between our lines and the Yankees',
and even in advance of our videts. Before we arrived at the house we saw
a body of Yankees approaching, and as we started to run back they fired
upon us. Our pickets had run in and reported a night attack. We ran
forward, expecting that our men would recognize us, but they opened fire
upon us. I never was as bad scared in all my whole life, and if any
poor devil ever prayed with fervency and true piety, I did it on that
occasion. I thought, "I am between two fires." I do