f way up
the next incline, Adjutant Pope, who was upon the staff of our brigade
commander, met the fleeing troops and made a masterly effort to stem
the tide by getting some of the troops in line. Around him was formed
a nucleus, and the line began to lengthen on either side, until we had
a very fair battle line when the enemy reached the brow of the hill we
had just passed. We met them with a stunning volley, that caused the
line to reel and stagger back over the crest. Our lines were growing
stronger each moment. Pope was bending all his energies to make
Kershaw's Brigade solid, and was in a fair way to succeed. The troops
that had passed, seeing a stand being made, returned, and kept up the
fire. It was now hoped that the other portion of the line would act
likewise and come to our assistance, and we further knew that each
moment we delayed the enemy would allow that much time for our wagon
train and artillery to escape. But just as all felt that we were
holding our own, Adjutant Pope fell, badly wounded by a minnie ball
through the eye, which caused him to leave the field. Then seeing no
prospects of succor on our right or left, the enemy gradually passing
and getting in our rear, the last great wave rolls away, the men
break and fly, every man for himself, without officers or orders--they
scatter to the rear. The enemy kept close to our heels, just as
we were rising one hill their batteries would be placed on the one
behind, then grape and cannister would sweep the field. There were no
thickets, no ravines, no fences to shield or protect us. Everything
seemed to have been swept from off the face of the earth, with the
exception of a lone farm house here and there. Every man appeared to
be making for the stone bridge that spanned the creek at Strausburg.
But for the bold, manly stand made by Y.J. Pope, with a portion of
Kershaw's Brigade (the brigade commander was seldom seen during the
day), the entire wagon train and hundreds more of our troops would
have been lost, for at that distance we could hear wagons, cannons,
and caissons crossing the stone bridge at a mad gallop. But in the
rush some wagons interlocked and were overturned midway the bridge,
and completely blocked the only crossing for miles above and below.
Teamsters and wagoners leave their charge and rush to the rear. In
the small space of one or two hundred yards stood deserted ambulances,
wagons, and packs of artillery mules and horses, tangled and sti