_“Sherman fell back”! They ran from tree to tree Along the greening ridge, now blue with smoke, Where struggling wounded staggered desperately, Holding torn arms or legs that bent and broke! Fell slowly back through burning oak and beech, Carrying an officer shot through the chest! Behind my orchard bright with blooming peach, “Prentiss took line across the Hornets’ Nest”!_ _Out of the “Sunken Road” men rose to fire Into the faces of advancing men Who found the flaming leaves a funeral pyre,— While those who lived rallied and charged again! Around my little pond they clubbed and fired Until the banks were beaten into mud, Where lay the crying wounded, trapped and mired, Bleeding until the water stained with blood!_ _“Then Ruggles massing his artillery Opened his fire upon the Union line,” Shaking the earth with blazing battery That razed the trees, the thickets and the vine! Men and my fence dissolved in splintering sound To red-stained rubble! Then “General Wallace fell,”— And when his men saw him knocked to the ground, The center broke, and both the wings as well!_ _Pushed to the river bank, for one last stand, Artillery and infantry stood side by side, Guarding the only place where boats might land! “Hold now”! Or drown in the Confederate tide! Then on this wild confusion, darkness came, And with the darkness, rain and piercing chill, Lit only by the sudden, thundering flame, As Union gunboats fired across the hill ..._ _All night they carried wounded back to town,— By barge and boat,—and some they put to knife In that small shack, near where the steps go down, With screaming I’ll remember all my life! Their General Grant just couldn’t stand the sound The wounded made! He sat out by a tree Under a little tent and nearly drowned In rain; sitting as close as you to me!_ _Fresh Yankee troops crossed over through the night,— Buell’s troops, come down from Nashville way! Grant sent them in and started up the fight As soon as there was light, come break of day! Then hell broke loose again across my farm,— More frightened, screaming men came running back, Coughing and bloody,—broke in leg or arm,— And some with powder burns, completely black!_ _By afternoon, they said it was a rout,— But no one followed far, that I could see! While Beauregard got his Confederates out, The Yankees seemed content to let them be! And when they told me General Johnston died In my ravine, I thought: “The South is dead”! And so thought those who took that Corinth ride With their dead general in a wagon-bed!_