“Take care there, Sergeant Blackistone, you are exposing yourself too much,” I shortly after remarked to the orderly of Company A, and even as I spoke a ball passed through his arm, lacerating it badly. Poor fellow, it was his first and last wound, for he died shortly after in the hospital at Frederick, where he was held a prisoner. “My men are out of ammunition, sir,” said Captain Murray; “and with your permission, I will withdraw them to the cover of those rocks on the left for half an hour—or a less time should you need me—and get some water and replenish their cartridge boxes. I have suffered fearfully, sir, and the men are somewhat dispirited.” I suggested it would be a dangerous undertaking, but with great caution the point might be made. Gradually they worked their way down the line, and reached the shelter in safety, and another company was ordered to take their place. As I returned, the commanders of companies informed me that their ammunition was also exhausted. The difficulty was to get it, as none was within half a mile, and it was almost certain death to leave the shelter of the breastworks. I reported the matter, however, to General Steuart, whom I found sitting with his staff behind an immense rock, and he told me I had better call for volunteers. “General, do not ask one of your officers or privates to volunteer to perform this duty whilst you have a staff officer left. I will bring the ammunition, if I live!” Words that should be written in letters of gold, and they fell from the lips of Lieutenant Randolph McKim, one of the General’s aids. The noble fellow made the venture, and succeeded in his mission. It was about half an hour after the above, that Captain George Williamson (Adjutant-General of the brigade, and one of the bravest men that ever trod a battle-field,) directed me to move my command by the left flank, file to the right at a given point, and form line of battle under cover of a woods, and as close as possible to its edge, without attracting the attention of the enemy, and that the rest of the brigade would form on my right and left. I divined the object of the move instantly, and told the Captain “I considered it murder, and therefore would take my men in under protest.” “The General has expressed the same opinion, sir; but the order comes from one higher than he, and is peremptory,” was his reply. Sending for Captain Murray to join the command, the devoted little brigade—already reduced to about nine hundred men—made their way slowly, sometimes crawling, to the spot where they were to be senselessly slaughtered. Nine hundred brave men to storm a mountain, and upon whose sides bristled the bayonets of ten thousand foemen, and artillery innumerable. Some one’s hands are stained with the blood of these gallant men, and God will mete out fearful retribution in the world to come. We were now within less than two hundred yards of the enemy, with an open field in front, over which we were to charge.