resisted the assault and driven them back, inflicting upon them a terrible penalty for their temerity. Our losses were appalling, but nothing like theirs. Years afterward one of their officers who was there and in the battle, told me that the troops engaged in the attack upon our left suffered the most terrible losses of the war upon the part of the enemy. Be that as it may, as soon as the sounds of battle had died away, we were ordered in line, cautioned to keep silent, and moved back toward the river. There was some firing on the picket line, and quite a rattle of musketry up the road on our right. We reached the high ground near the river after several hours crawl through the woods, no sound breaking the stillness except the lonely screech of the owl and the doleful screech of the “katydid.” There we found our batteries posted, the guns so close together that there was scarcely room to work them, and we moved up close to them and lay down. After some hours we moved across the river, a few cannon shots bidding us a parting farewell. Our whole Corps came across except those who had been stricken in battle; and the gallant Sixth Corps, with the noble Sedgwick at its head had by its courage and gallantry, extricated itself from the grasp of Lee's army, and had inflicted upon it so terrible a blow that he was content to relinquish his effort to capture it. As for us we began to feel the misery of our loss. Our dead comrades, our missing friends, were more missed. The absence of immediate peril gave time for reflection, but they were gone and we should never see them again. The Buck and Ball had torn through our ranks beyond repair, and for the first time we were complimented by the other regiments of the brigade and received their sympathy.
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