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[440] On my flank I had suffered severely. Major Smith had been shot down in my lines — his leg broken just below the hip; Captain Ward had been mortally wounded in a charge, and died in a few hours; the enemy had charged into my lines and been repulsed, several prisoners being captured, among them a Captain Butterworth, I think, of the First Michigan, who was shot down in my lines, badly wounded, and a private of the same regiment, I presume, who held Major Smith in his arms until the fight was over, and he was relieved by the removal of Major Smith to Dogan's, near by, where he was confined for many weeks. It was about this time that Colonel Hunton, with his gallant regiment, appeared on the field, charged and cleared out the scattered fragments of the enemy about and near the Henry house, and thus shared in and materially contributed to the final result. Nor must I omit to state here, that he was indebted to me for the opportunity he so handsomely improved, to share in the glories of the day.

The battle being now substantially at an end, I made, for the time being, such arrangements for my killed and wounded as the occasion required. Attracted by an artillery firing, apparently some two hundred yards southwest from my position, I concluded to see what it meant. On my way I encountered an officer lying dead. I was told it was Colonel Fisher, of the Sixth North Carolina, who was killed in a charge as I have previously described. Passing on, I soon reached the battery of Captain Delaware Kemper, and found him firing upon the enemy retreating on the ridge running northerly from the Chinn by the Dogan house. He was on the eastern side of the Sudley's road, and some half mile from his target. “With that beautiful precision inaugurated at Vienna,” he soon drove the enemy from shelter to the western slope of the ridge, while on receiving his fire, the enemy's sharp shooters would run to the crest of the ridge and empty their long range guns in reply. No injury was done to Captain Kemper or his command, of which I am aware, during the half hour, or less, that I remained with it — the enemy's shot occasionally fell about us with sufficient force to wound or kill. Leaving Captain Kemper, I rode to a squad of officers some one hundred and fifty yards to his right, composed of Preston, Kershaw, and others, also overlooking the retreating foe, without the power to prevent it. It moved me deeply, almost to tears. Although now getting late, I concluded to ride down the turnpike, and went as far as Cub Run bridge. Here I found the bridge not passable, from an immense jam of the enemy's wagons and other vehicles, and the stream not fordable. Returning to my position in the fight to see if my orders had been executed, I found everything done to my satisfaction, except

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