order couched in the
best of English, and phrased in elegant terms the instructions above,
telling him to guard his flanks, etc., then read the order to Lincoln
for his approval. Taking up the pen, the President endorsed it, and
wrote underneath, in his own hand: "In crossing the river don't allow
yourself to be caught in the fix of a cow, hurried by dogs, in jumping
a fence, get hung in the middle, so that she can't either use her
horns in front, nor her heels behind."

Many incidents of courage and pathos could be written of this, as
well as many other battles, but one that I think the crowning act of
courage and sympathy for an enemy in distress is due was that of a
Georgian behind the wall. In one of the first charges made during the
day a Federal had fallen, and to protect himself as much as possible
from the bullets of his enemies, he had by sheer force of will pulled
his body along until he had neared the wall. Then he failed through
pure exhaustion. From loss of blood and the exposure of the sun's
rays, he called loudly for water. "Oh, somebody bring me a drink of
water!--water! water!!" was the piteous appeals heard by those behind
the stone wall. To go to his rescue was to court certain death, as
the housetops to the left were lined with sharpshooters, ready to fire
upon anyone showing his head above the wall. But one brave soldier
from Georgia dared all, and during the lull in the firing leaped the
walls, rushed to the wounded soldier, and raising his head in his
arms, gave him a drink of water, then made his way back and over the
wall amid a hail of bullets knocking the dirt up all around him.

The soldier, like the sailor, is proverbial for his superstition. But
at times certain incidents or coincidents take place in the life
of the soldier that are inexplainable, to say the least. Now it is
certain that every soldier going into battle has some dread of death.
It is the nature of man to dread that long lost sleep at any time and
in any place. He knows that death is a master of all, and all must
yield to its inexorable summons, and that summons is more likely
to come in battle than on ordinary occasions. That at certain times
soldiers do have a premonition of their coming death, has been proven
on many occasions. Not that I say all soldiers foretell their end
by some kind of secret monitor, but that some do, or seem to do so.
Captain Summer, of my company, was an unusually good-humored and
lively man, and