like a torrent upon the battery, routing the infantry, and Sergeant T. P. Mays, the ensign, planted the colors of our regiment on the enemy's guns. They were ours, fairly won after a severe and bloody struggle. As before stated, we had far preceded our support on the wings, had penetrated deep into the enemy's lines, had fallen into the trap set for us, and now, casting about, could see the enemy's flanking column closing in behind us. The men in the ranks could see all this as plainly as their officers, and a Confederate soldier, even at this early date, was his own general when he got into battle. So far as now recollected no order was received from an officer to retire; but the men seeing the critical situation in which they were placed determined to fight their way out, as they had fought their way in. At this juncture Sergeant Allen M. Bane, of the color-guard, mounted the wheel of a captured gun and shouted at the top of his voice, “Retreat.” Our supports were not near enough to strike a blow for our relief, and nothing was left but to make our way out as best we could. The loss in this retrograde movement was heavy-equally as great as in the advance. Most of the men succeeded in passing the gap before it was closed by the enemy, and in a few moments came our supports, who struck their flanking columns and sent them flying and scattered to the rear. One brigade rallied a short distance in the rear, but took no further part in the battle, which raged with great fury and varying fortune till late in the night. Among the terribly wounded in this memorable charge was Rev. John C. Granberry, chaplain of the gallant Eleventh regiment, now a bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South.
J. J. M.