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while we sat and watched and listened, in comparative safety, just beside the captured redoubt.
Potter had been taken in the flank by the Rebels charging, and had been driven back in confusion.
Griffin had advanced and restored the retired line.
And who rides hither so placidly?
It is General Humphreys: he has stolen off and, bless his old soul, has been having a real nice time, right in the line of battle!
“A pretty little fight,” said he gingerly, “a pretty little fight.
He! he! he!”
Poor Potter!
it wasn't his fault.
Our extreme advance was driven back, but the day was a great success, with important strategic bearing.
October 2, 18641
Abou Ben Butler had quite a stampede last night.
Having got so far away from home, he conceived that the whole southern host was massed to crush him, and communicated the same with much eloquence, by the instrumentality of the magnetic telegraph; whereat Major-General Humphreys, Chief-of-Staff, had the brutality to laugh!
We made our usual peregrination to Globe Tavern, where we got about 10 o'clock. Here General Meade sent me to look for a new camp, first enquiring if I felt well enough for that arduous service, as he looks on me as a tender convalescent!
It was a tedious business getting a spot; for the whole country was either occupied, or was very dirty from old camps.
At quarter to eleven, as I was poking about, I heard firing to the left, pretty sharp for a few minutes, and supposed there might be quite a fight; but it died away, shortly, except the cannon, which were not frequent.
I got to the front about one, and met General 