As I was recrossing the battle-field accompanied by Dr. Welford, of
Virginia, the same terrible scenes were presented to the view. The
ground was littered with the accoutrements of soldiers,--carbines,
pistols, canteens, haversacks, etc. Two cannon lay overturned, near
one of which lay a dead Federal soldier still grasping the rammer.
Beneath the still struggling horses lay human forms just as they had
fallen. Probably they had been dead ere they reached the ground, but I
felt a shuddering dread lest perhaps some lingering spark of life had
been crushed out by the rolling animals.
We had nearly reached the road when our attention was arrested by
stifled cries and groans proceeding from a little log cabin which had
been nearly demolished during the fight. Entering, we found it empty,
but still the piteous cries continued. Soon the doctor discovered a
pair of human legs, hanging down the chimney, but with all his pulling
could not dislodge the man, who was fast wedged and only cried out the
louder.
"Stop your infernal noise," said the doctor, "and try to help yourself
while I pull." By this time others had entered the cabin, and their
united effort at length succeeded in dislodging from the chimney,--not
a negro, but a white man, whose blue eyes, glassy with terror, shone
through the soot which had begrimed his face.
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