John Brown, one of our company who had been detailed to care for the wounded, had taken a seat behind a large oak-tree in the edge of the woods near us. A thirty-two-pound shot struck the tree, and, passing through the center of it, took Brown's head entirely off. We spent several hours standing in the road, which was filled with artillery, and our generals were evidently at their wits' ends. Toward evening we moved farther back into the woods, where many regiments of our infantry were in bivouac. The enemy had now turned their fire in this direction. Both that of their heavy field-pieces and gunboats, and enormous shells and solid shot, were constantly crashing through the timber, tearing off limbs and the tops of trees, which sometimes fell among the troops, maiming and killing men. After sundown a charge was made against the enemy's left, which was repulsed with terrible loss to our men. After this the enemy continued shelling the woods; in fact their whole front, until ten o'clock at night. Our battery had moved back at least two miles and gone into park in a field, where, at short intervals, a large gunboat shell would burst over us, scattering pieces around, while the main part would whirr on, it seemed, indefinitely. The next day, the enemy having abandoned Malvern Hill during the night, we made a rapid start in pursuit toward Harrison's Landing, but suddenly came to a halt and countermarched to a place where several roads crossed, on all of which were columns of infantry and artillery. During the remainder of the day the soldiers gave vent to their feelings by cheering the different generals as they passed to and fro, Jackson naturally receiving the lion's share. McClellan's army being now under cover of their gunboats, and gunboats being held in mortal terror by the Confederates, we began slowly to make our way out of this loathsome place, a place which I felt should be cheerfully given up to the Northerners, where they could inhale the poisonous vapors of the bogs, and prosecute the war in continuous battle with the mosquitoes and vermin. The water of the few sluggish streams, although transparent, was highly colored by the decaying vegetable matter and the roots of the juniper. For the first time in my life I was now out of sight of the mountains. I felt utterly lost, and found myself repeatedly rising on tip-toe and gazing for a view of them in the distance. Being very much worsted physically by the campaign and malarial atmosphere, I was put on the sick-list, and given permission to go to Richmond to recuperate.