in, which I then commanded,
formed a part of Thomas' memorable line, and fought through the battles
of Saturday and Sunday. At the close of the second day, Thomas' Corps
still maintained its position, and presented an unbroken front to the
enemy, but the right of our army having fallen back, the tide of battle
was turning against us.

To avoid a flank movement, our brigade was ordered to leave the
breastworks, which they had held against the severest fire of the enemy
during the day, and fall back to a second position. Here only a portion
of the men, with three regimental standards, were rallied. A rebel
battery was instantly placed in position on our right, and rebel cavalry
swept between us and the retreating army.

Being the ranking officer among those who rallied, I directed the men to
cut their way through to our retreating line. I was on the left of this
movement to the rear, and, to avoid the approach of horsemen, rapidly
passed to the left through a dense cluster of small pines, and
instantly found myself in the immediate front of a rebel line of
infantry. I halted, being dismounted, and an officer advanced and
offered his hand, saying that he was glad to see me, and proposed to
introduce me to his commander, General Cleburne. I replied, that I was
not particularly pleased to see him, but, under the circumstances,
should not decline his invitation.

I met the General, who was mounted and being cheered by his men, and
surrendered to him my sword. He inquired where I had been fighting. I
said, "Right there," pointing to the line of Thomas' Corps. He replied,
"This line has given us our chief trouble, sir; your soldiers have
fought like brave men; come with me and I will see that no one insults
or interferes with you."

It was now after sun-down, and the last guns of the terrible battle of
Chickamauga were dying away along the hillsides of Mission Ridge. A
large number of prisoners of war were soon gathered, and marched to the
enemy's rear across the Chickamauga. Here we witnessed the fearful
results of the battle. The ground strewed with the dead and wounded, the
shattered fragments of transportation, and a general demoralization
among the forces, told the fearful price which the enemy had paid for
their victory. More than fifteen hundred soldiers, prisoners of war,
camped by a large spring to pass the remainder of a cold night; some
without blankets or overcoats, and all without provisions.

The next day we