We were to take the place of a gallant Pennsylvania regimen, the 84th, which had been literally

cut to pieces.

The little wood pasture was filled with the wounded of the 84th Pennsylvania and Fifth Ohio,

who had been able to crawl down from their line on the hill beyond the woods.

The bullets rattled like hail in the tree tops, but in this depression only a few were

hurt by glancing balls from the limbs above.

As we advanced, rabbits sprang up and away, a dog flew across our front, but he was not

after the rabbits, for he carried his tail between his legs.

Quickly out of the little wood we crossed a rail fence.

Twenty yards to the top of a hill and a little field, we came upon the left of the Fifth

Ohio infantry, a brave regiment that lost five color bearers killed at that spot.

A few men of the Pennsylvania regimen still clung to their old line on the hill.

As we appeared over the brow of the hill, a perfect blizzard met us.

The very air seemed to grow heavy with bullets, which and striking our men sounded like the

dusting of cartbits with rods.

In front of us across the little-level field, but sixty or seventy-five yards distant,

stood a substantial stone wall from behind which Jackson's men were coolly shooting us

down.

Just back of the wall was a rather abrupt hill upon the brow of which stood a second

line of the enemy also pouring a murderous fire into our ranks.

It was a perfect storm of concentrated fire.

Already one of our regiments had melted away like snow under the sun.

...