re turned and opened upon the
former owners. Down to our left we could see men leaving the trenches,
while others huddled close up to the side of the wall, displaying a
white flag. Our ranks soon became almost as much disorganized as those
of the enemy. The smoking breakfast, just ready for the table, stood
temptingly inviting, while the opened tents displayed a scene almost
enchanting to the eyes of the Southern soldier, in the way of costly
blankets, overcoats, dress uniforms, hats, caps, boots, and shoes all
thrown in wild confusion over the face of the earth. Now and then a
suttler's tent displayed all the luxuries and dainties a soldier's
heart could wish for. All this fabulous wealth of provisions and
clothing looked to the half-fed, half-clothed Confederates like the
wealth of the Indies. The soldiers broke over all order and discipline
for a moment or two and helped themselves. But their wants were few,
or at least that of which they could carry, so they grab a slice of
bacon, a piece of bread, a blanket, or an overcoat, and were soon in
line again following up the enemy. There was no attempt of alignment
until we had left the breastworks, then a partial line of battle was
formed and the pursuit taken up. Major Todd, of the Third, having
received a wound just as we crossed the works, the command of the
regiment devolved on the writer. The angle of the creek cutting off
that portion of the brigade that was in rear, left the Second and
Third detached, nor could we see or hear of a brigade commander. The
troops on our right had advanced several hundred yards, moving at
right angle to us, and were engaging the enemy, a portion that had
made a stand on the crest of a hill, around an old farm house.
Not knowing what to do or where to go, and no orders, I accepted
Napoleon's advice to the lost soldier, "When a soldier is lost and
does not know where to go, always go to where you hear the heaviest
firing." So I advanced the regiment and joined it on the left of
a Georgia brigade. Before long the enemy was on the run again, our
troops pouring volley after volley into them as they fled over stone
fences, hedges, around farm houses, trying in every conceivable way
to shun the bullets of the "dreaded gray-backs." I looked in the rear.
What a sight! Here came stragglers, who looked like half the army,
laden with every imaginable kind of plunder--some with an eye to
comfort, had loaded themselves with new tent cloths, nice bla