at this
despondent hour, and a horrible idea of starvation took possession of my
mind. A mile from White Oak Swamp, some distance back of the road, lay
the Engineer Brigade. They were now on the eve of breaking camp, and
when I reached Colonel McCloud Murphy's, his chests were packed, and all
his provisions had gone ahead. He gave me, however, a couple of hard
crackers and a draught of whiskey and quinine, whereby I rallied for a
moment. At General Woodbury's I observed a middle-aged lady, making her
toilet by a looking-glass hung against the tent-pole. She seemed as
careful of her personal appearance, in this trying time, as if she had
been at some luxurious court. There were several women on the retreat,
and though the guns thundered steadily behind, they were never flurried,
but could have received company, or accepted offers of marriage, with
the utmost complacency. If there was any one that rouged, I am sure that
no personal danger would have disturbed her while she heightened her
roses; and she would have tied up her back hair in defiance of shell or
grape.

At Casey's ancient head-quarters, on the bluff facing White Oak Swamp, I
found five correspondents. We fraternized immediately, and they all
pooh-poohed the battle, as such an old story that it would be absurd to
ride back to the field. We knew, however, that it was occurring at Peach
Orchard, on a part of the old ground at Fairoaks. These gentlemen were
in rather despondent moods, and there was one who opined that we were
all to be made prisoners of war. In his own expressive way of putting
it, we were to be "gobbled up." This person was stout and inclined to
panting and perspiration. He wore glasses upon a most pugnacious nose,
and his large, round head was covered with short, bristly, jetty hair.

"I promised my wife," said this person, who may be called Cindrey, "to
stay at home after the Burnside business. The Burnside job was very
nearly enough for me. In fact I should have quite starved on the
Burnside job, if I hadn't took the fever. And the fever kept me so busy
that I forgot how hungry I was. So I lived over that."

At this point he took off his glasses and wiped his face; the water was
running down his cheeks like a miniature cataract, and his great neck
seemed to emit jets of perspiration.

"Well," he continued, "the Burnside job wasn't enough for me; I must
come out again. I must follow the young Napoleon. And the young Napoleon
has made a pre