nearly forty years!
I saw they would go over me. Reeling as if drunk, I ran to save myself.
Zigzagging over the field I came upon a grey-bearded soldier lying in
the grass and fell headlong. I struggled madly, but could not rise to
my feet. I lay, my face upon the ground, weeping like a woman. Save I be
lost in hell, I shall never know again the bitter pang of that moment.
I thought of my country. I saw its splendid capital in ruins; its people
surrendered to God's enemies.

The rout of wagons had gone by I could now hear the heavy tramp of
thousands passing me, the shrill voices of terror. I worked to a sitting
posture somehow--the effort nearly smothered me. A mass of cavalry was
bearing down upon me. They were coming so thick I saw they would trample
me into jelly. In a flash I thought of what Uncle Eb had told me once.
I took my hat and covered my face quiddy, and then uncovered it as they
came near. They sheared away as I felt the foam of their nostrils. I had
split them as a rock may split the torrent. The last of them went over
me--their tails whipping my face. I shall not soon forget the look
of their bellies or the smell of their wet flanks. They had no sooner
passed than I fell back and rolled half over like a log. I could feel
a warm flow of blood trickling down my left arm. A shell, shot at the
retreating army, passed high above me, whining as it flew. Then my mind
went free of its trouble. The rain brought me to as it came pelting down
upon the side of my face. I wondered what it might be, for I knew
not where I had come. I lifted my head and looked to see a new
dawn--possibly the city of God itself. It was dark--so dark I felt as if
I had no eyes. Away in the distance I could hear the beating of a drum.
It rang in a great silence--I have never known the like of it. I could
hear the fall and trickle of the rain, but it seemed only to deepen the
silence. I felt the wet grass under my face and hands. Then I knew it
was night and the battlefield where I had fallen. I was alive and might
see another day--thank God! I felt something move under my feet I heard
a whisper at my shoulder.

'Thought you were dead long ago,' it said.

'No, no,' I answered, 'I'm alive--I know I'm alive--this is the
battlefield.

''Fraid I ain't goin' t' live,' he said. 'Got a terrible wound. Wish it
was morning.'

'Dark long?' I asked.

'For hours,' he answered. 'Dunno how many.'

He began to groan and utter short prayers.