"Battery after battery came into position, until, with my glass, I could count nearly a hundred guns. On our side batteries were massing also, both to the right and the left of where I stood. Experience had so taught me what these preparations meant that I fairly trembled with excitement and awe. It appeared as if I were about to witness one of the most terrific combats of the world, and while I might well doubt whether anything could survive the concentrated fire of these rebel guns, I could not resist the desire to see out what I felt must be the final and supreme effort of both armies. Therefore I stuck to my rock and swept with my glass the salient points of interest. I dreaded the effect of the awful cannonade upon our lines of infantry that lay upon the ground below me, behind such slight shelter as they could find. Our position at this point was commanding, but many of the troops were fearfully exposed, while our artillerymen had to stand in plain view. Over all this scene, so awfully significant and unnaturally quiet, the scorching July sun sent down its rays like fiery darts, which everywhere on the field scintillated as if they were kindling innumerable fires. "At last the enemy fired a single gun. Almost instantly a flashing line of light swept along the massed Confederate batteries, I sprung down behind my rock as a perfect storm of iron swept over and around me, and my heart stood almost still at the deep reverberations which followed. This was but the prelude to the infernal symphony that followed. With remarkable rapidity and precision of aim the enemy continued firing, not irregularly, but in immense thundering volleys, all together. There would be a moment's pause, and then would come such a storm of iron that it seemed to me that even my sheltering rock would be cut away, and that everything exposed must be annihilated. "At first I was exceedingly troubled that our guns did not reply. Could it be possible that the enemy's fire was so destructive that our forces were paralyzed? I was learning to distinguish between the measured cadences of the enemy's firing. After a hurtling shower flew over, I sprung out, took a survey, and was so filled with exultation and confidence, that I crept back again with hope renewed. Our men were standing at the guns, which officers were sighting in order to get more accurate range, and the infantry had not budged. Of course there were streams of wounded going to the rear, but this is true of every battle.