side we had five or six ranks deep, composed of the original line,
the reserves, and Conrad's men, all mixed up together without any regard
to their separate organizations. The front rank did nothing but fire. The
empty guns were passed back to those in rear who reloaded them. The rear
rank was kneeling with guns at a ready. If a rebel raised his head above
the breastwork, down it would instantly go with one or more bullets
through it, fired by these rear rank men.

In this close fighting the advantage was all on our side, for our front
rank men, standing up close against the perpendicular face of the
breastwork on our side, could poke the muzzle of a gun over the headlog
and by elevating the breech could send a plunging shot among the rebels
who filled the outside ditch and expose for an instant only the hand and a
part of the arm that discharged the gun. But on account of the convex face
of the work on their side the rebels could not reach us with their fire
without exposing themselves above the breastwork. They kept up the vain
struggle until long after dark, but finally elevated their hats on the
ends of their muskets above the breastwork, as a signal to us, and called
over that if we would stop shooting they would surrender. When our firing
ceased, many of them came over and surrendered, but many more took
advantage of the darkness and of the confusion created by their comrades
in getting over the breastwork to slip back to their own lines. Soon after
the firing had ceased the Sixty-fourth Ohio reformed its broken ranks a
few steps in rear of the breastwork and just east of the cotton-gin. I did
not learn all the facts that night, but when they came out later, it
transpired that every man in my company, save one, who had escaped the
casualties of the battle, fell into line. A thousand-dollar substitute
had fled to the town where he hid in a cellar. He went to sleep there and
awoke the next morning inside the rebel lines. He was sent south to a
prison and when returning north after the close of the war lost his life
in the explosion of the Steamer Sultana.

I had lost my overcoat, but had never let go the grip on my sword. Some of
my men had dropped their knapsacks or blanket rolls, but every one of them
had his gun and cartridge box. They were all in high spirits over their
own escape and over the part they had played in the final repulse of the
rebels, and were talking and laughing over their various adventures in