came Oswald
with two guns, wheeling into position, the depressed muzzles spouting
destruction. Yet those red and blue lines came on; great openings were
ploughed through them, but the living mass closed up. They were at the
fallen tree, beyond, when we poured our volleys into their very faces. We
saw them waver as that storm of lead struck; the centre seemed to give
way, leaving behind a ridge of motionless bodies; then it surged forward
again, led by a waving flag, urged on by gesticulating officers.

"The cavalry! The cavalry!"

They were coming around the end of the morass, charging full tilt upon
the right of our line. I saw that end crumble up, and, a moment later,
scarcely realizing what had occurred, we were racing backward, firing as
we ran, and stumbling over dead bodies.

Maxwell rallied us beyond the causeway, swearing manfully as he drove us
into position behind a low stone wall. Again and again they charged us,
the artillery fire shattering the wall into fragments. Twice we came to
bayonets and clubbed guns, battling hand to hand, and Wayne was forced so
far back upon the left, that we were driven into the edge of the wood for
protection. But there we held, our front a blaze of fire. It seemed to me
the horror of that struggle would never end. Such heat, such thirst, the
black powder smoke in our nostrils, the dead under foot, the cries of the
wounded, the incessant roar of the guns. Again and again it was hand to
hand; I could scarcely tell who faced us, so fierce the _melee_, so
suffocating the smoke; I caught glimpses of British Grenadiers, of
Hessians, of Queen's Rangers. Once I thought I heard Grant's nasal voice
amid the infernal uproar. Stewart and Ramsey came to our support; Oswald
got his guns upon an eminence, opening a deadly fire; Livingston's
regiment charged, and, with a cheer, we leaped forward also, mad with the
battle fever, and flung them back, back down that deadly slope. It was
not in flesh and blood to stand; we cut the centre like a wedge, and
drove them pell-mell to where Lee had been in the morning. Here they
rallied, flanked by thick woods and morasses. Too exhausted to follow,
our men sank breathless to the ground.

It was already sunset, and our work done. The artillery still already,
and I could see long lines of troops--Poor's and the Carolina
brigade--moving to the right. Night came on, however, without more
fighting, and, as soon as we had recovered sufficiently, we devoted