The enemy's column literally rushed on. Our artillery, on a hill near
by, had opened a rapid fire on the head of the column; the enemy's
object was to gain shelter under a crest, in their front.
They soon gained it; formed line of battle, and charged the guns.
Then all was over. The bullets rained, in a hurtling tempest on the
cannoneer; the blue line came on with loud shouts; and the pieces were
brought off at a gallop, followed by a hailstorm of musket-balls.
Suddenly the Federal artillery opened from a hill behind their line.
General Lee had mounted his iron-gray, and was slowly retiring toward
Petersburg, surrounded by his officers. His appearance was superb at
this moment--and I still see the erect form of the proud old cavalier;
his hand curbing his restive horse; his head turned over his shoulder;
his face calm, collected, and full of that courage which nothing could
break.
All at once a shell screamed from the Federal battery, and bursting
close to the general, tore up the ground in a dozen places. The horse
of an officer at his side was mortally wounded by a fragment, and fell
beneath his rider other animals darted onward, with hanging bridle-reins,
cut by the shell--but I was looking at General Lee, feeling certain that
he must have been wounded.
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