Taking advantage of a rise in the ground, he halted the men under its shelter, and ordered them to rest preparatory to making the desperate assault. Scarcely had the command been given when Captain McHenry Howard, of General Charles Winder’s staff, galloped up with orders to remain where we were until that General could overtake us with the Stonewall Brigade. “The General has observed your movements, sir, and thinks the place too strong for you; we will, therefore, charge together.” In a few moments Jackson’s favorite brigade was with us, and, at the command of General Winder, we moved forward with irresistible impulse, and scrambling over the enemy’s breastwork of knapsacks, we swept everything before us. The last charge had been made, and the last battery captured at Gaines’ Mills, and the right of McClellan’s army was seeking safety in flight. Night was upon us, and completely exhausted, we threw ourselves upon the ground in the midst of the dead, wounded and dying, and despite the shrieks and cries and groans of anguish from hundreds around us, were soon wrapped in sleep. The field next morning presented a ghastly spectacle, and the thousands of maimed and dismembered bodies attested the severity of the fight. Litter-bearers were moving in all directions, gathering the wounded, while burial parties were busily engaged with pick and spade digging the trenches in which were to rest those beyond all worldly cares and suffering. The camp-follower was also plying his avocation, and as he moved from one to another of his victims an expression of satisfaction or disappointment would escape him as he counted the yield of each. Some of the men, however, were in search of boots and shoes, which they so much needed, as thousands of Jackson’s command were barefooted, and had been for weeks. As I walked over the field I observed one of them, a North Carolinian, with his foot upon the stomach of a dead man, tugging vigorously at a boot, which after a little while he succeeded in getting off. I stopped to see how he would get the other one, for the leg had been shattered to pieces just above the knee by a cannon ball, and hung but by a few shreds. A desperate effort separated the leg from the body, and the fellow was in a quandary. Looking around he espied me, when approaching, he extended the ghastly stump, and said, “Mister, will you please hold onter this tarnel thing ontil I git the boot off?” The assistance he asked for I declined to render, when shouldering his prize he started off muttering, “If you won’t, some of the boys will, that’s all.” CHAPTER XI.