ded to the brow of
the hill overlooking a branch of the Chaplin river, and was about to
descend into the valley, when the enemy's artillery opened in front with
great fury. Rousseau and his staff wheeled suddenly out of the road to
the left, accompanied by Lytle. After a moment spent by them in
consultation, I was ordered to countermarch my regiment to the bottom of
the hill we had just ascended, and file off to the right of the road.

Loomis' and Simonson's Batteries were soon put in position, and began
to reply to the enemy. A furious interchange of shell and solid shot
occurred, but after a little while our batteries ceased firing, and we
had comparative silence.

About 2 o'clock the rebel infantry was seen advancing across the valley,
and I ordered the Third to ascend the hill and take position on the
crest. The enemy's batteries now reopened with redoubled fury, and the
air seemed filled with shot and exploding shells. Finding the rebels
were still too far away to make our muskets effective, I ordered the
boys to lie down and await their nearer approach. They advanced under
cover of a house on the side hill, and having reached a point one
hundred and fifty yards distant, deployed behind a stone fence which was
hidden from us by standing corn. At this time the left of my regiment
rested on the Maxville and Perryville road; the line extending along the
crest of the hill, and the right passing somewhat behind a barn filled
with hay. In this position, with the enemy's batteries pouring upon us a
most destructive fire, the Third arose and delivered its first volley.
For a time, I do not know how long thereafter, it seemed as if all hell
had broken loose; the air was filled with hissing balls; shells were
exploding continuously, and the noise of the guns was deafening; finally
the barn on the right took fire, and the flames bursting from roof,
windows, doors, and interstices between the logs, threw the right of the
regiment into disorder; the confusion, however, was but temporary. The
boys closed up to the left, steadied themselves on the colors, and stood
bravely to the work. Nearly two hundred of my five hundred men now lay
dead and wounded on the little strip of ground over which we fought.

Colonel Curren Pope, of the Fifteenth Kentucky, whose regiment was being
held in reserve at the bottom of the hill, had already twice requested
me to retire my men and allow him to take the position. Finding now that
our ammunit