the painless. From this time forward, I was free from
neuralgia; but at a subsequent period I saw a number of cases similar to
mine in a hospital in Philadelphia.

It is no part of my plan to detail my weary months of monotonous prison
life in the South. In the early part of August, 1863, I was exchanged,
and, after the usual thirty days' furlough, returned to my regiment a
captain.

On the 19th of September, 1863, occurred the battle of Chickamauga, in
which my regiment took a conspicuous part. The close of our own share in
this contest is, as it were, burnt into my memory with every least
detail. It was about six P. M., when we found ourselves in line, under
cover of a long, thin row of scrubby trees, beyond which lay a gentle
slope, from which, again, rose a hill rather more abrupt, and crowned
with an earthwork. We received orders to cross this space, and take the
fort in front, while a brigade on our right was to make a like movement
on its flank.

Just before we emerged into the open ground, we noticed what, I think,
was common in many fights,--that the enemy had begun to bowl round-shot
at us, probably from failure of shell. We passed across the valley in
good order, although the men fell rapidly all along the line. As we
climbed the hill, our pace slackened, and the fire grew heavier. At this
moment a battery opened on our left,--the shots crossing our heads
obliquely. It is this moment which is so printed on my recollection. I
can see now, as if through a window, the gray smoke, lit with red
flashes,--the long, wavering line,--the sky blue above,--the trodden
furrows, blotted with blue blouses. Then it was as if the window closed,
and I knew and saw no more. No other scene in my life is thus scarred,
if I may say so, into my memory. I have a fancy that the horrible shock
which suddenly fell upon me must have had something to do with thus
intensifying the momentary image then before my eyes.

When I awakened, I was lying under a tree somewhere at the rear. The
ground was covered with wounded, and the doctors were busy at an
operating-table, improvised from two barrels and a plank. At length two
of them who were examining the wounded about me came up to where I lay.
A hospital steward raised my head, and poured down some brandy and
water, while another cut loose my pantaloons. The doctors exchanged
looks, and walked away. I asked the steward where I was hit.

"Both thighs," said he; "the Doc's won't do noth