Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 32.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

[262] shell or shot struck the general's horse in the breast and passed entirely through the animal. The horse fell without a quiver. Disengaging his feet from the stirrups, the general stepped a few paces away without removing the glasses from his eyes and without the slightest emotion. That was characteristic of D. H. Hill. Nothing could disturb his poise.

“Left face; forward march,” rang out in clear tones along our line. We moved across a plowed field for a mile or more, at double-quick. The South Carolina Brigade was in front, followed by Cobb's Georgia, Barksdale's Mississippi, and Paul J. Semmes' Georgia Brigades in the rear. We saw the South Carolinians front into line by the Dunker church and lie down. Cobb formed on their left, Barksdale on his left, and Semmes to the left of Barksdale. As the division advanced to position we passed General Lee. He was riding a little black horse, and halted near a battery which was actively engaged. The Mississippians yelled, and General Lee, reining his horse about, watched us go by. The shells were as thick as blackberries, but he seem to give them no heed.

As we passed along, a spotted cow passed through the ranks. She ran with all her might, her tail high in the air. A shell struck the earth in front of her and, exploding, threw up a volcano of dirt, making a hole into which she plunged, but scrambled out and continued her race. Kit Gilmer, of Company C, 18th Mississippi, hallooed out: ‘Boys, she is a Confederate. She's going south.’

The Mississippians lay behind a rail fence for about five minutes. We could distinctly see the enemy advancing and our line giving away. The fence was thrown down, two panels together and during the short time we lay there it was almost shot to splinters. We heard cheering on our right, which came from the South Carolina Brigade and Cobb's Georgians. They were charging the enemy's victorious limes. General Kershaw galloped along where Barksdale's men lay and said: ‘Press forward, Mississippians.’ General Barksdale had dismounted, but, moving quickly forward, led the charge. In the meantime the overpowered troops in our front, who had been desperately engaged for two hours and were out of ammunition, passed to the rear.

The Mississippians rushed at the enemy with yells and bayonets and almost charged into their ranks before they gave away. We were now in large timber, and at the crest of the ridge the enemy had thrown together some logs, behind which they halted for a death struggle. The woods were raked by grape and cannister, as