This was about 5 o’clock, and Colonel Hunton ordered me to go to Colonel Burt, tell him the Eighth Virginia would charge the enemy in front, and ask him to attack with his regiment at the same time to cover his right. Colonel Burt delayed his movement a short time in order that I might bring in one of his companies which had been sent off to the right, and when this was done he moved his line forward, but we had already heard the battle yell of the glorious old Eighth as it dashed forward on the enemy. The gallant Mississippians were no laggards, when the dauntless Burt gave the command “Forward!” All during the day they had been in front of Edward’s Ferry, watching the enemy there and listening to the guns of their comrades at the Bluff, until delay had chafed them, but now their time had come, and with the steady tread of veterans they marched over the field to the woods. When in less than one hundred yards of the timber, the enemy concealed behind the ridge of earth thrown up by long-ago plowing around the field, and also favored by the descent of the ground, let loose upon them one of the most deadly fires of musketry it was my fortune to witness during the war. In visions now I sometimes see those brave fellows falling like leaves of autumn before the northern blast, but no man faltered except the stricken ones, before that fearful fire. Colonel Burt was riding close up to his regiment in rear of the line and I rode beside him on his right, giving us good view of our own men as well as the position of the enemy as marked by the flaming line of the deadly volley. The gallant Burt was mortally wounded[9] and as two of his men were taking him from his horse he turned to me, and in a tone as calm as if in ordinary talk, said, “Go tell Colonel Jenifer I am wounded and shall have to leave the field.” Starting to obey, I found myself in that most trying situation for a soldier—having to turn my back to the foe while my comrades were facing him. We were all “green” then, and had a horrid dread of being shot in the back, much more particular than later, when experience had done its perfect work, and the “ear became more Irish and less nice.” Turning in my saddle, face to the enemy, I rode rapidly and found Colonel Jenifer in a small cleared spot, half way through the woods, along the path to the island. Quickly delivering my message I hurried back to the Eighteenth, finding it had driven the enemy from his position and been joined by the Seventeenth under Colonel Featherstone and moved further to the left, nearly connecting with Hunton’s right, about the edge of the woods.