And now came our turn. We retreated down the hill. At once its crest was occupied by the Federal skirmishers, and at once they began busily to pop away at us. I ran along, holding my white hat in my hand. We reached lower ground, and our batteries in Virginia began to throw shells over our heads to keep back the enemy. The battalion flanked to the right, struck the bridge, and rushed headlong across, with Yankee bullets splashing the water to the right and left; meanwhile our batteries continued to throw shells over our heads, and Federal guns, now unlimbered on the Maryland side, were answering with spirit. XXXV AWAKENINGS "'Tis far off; And rather like a dream than an assurance That my remembrance warrants."--SHAKESPEARE. With the passage of the sharp-shooters into Virginia at Falling Waters, the campaign was at an end. The pontoon bridge was cut. We marched a mile from the river and halted; it was five o'clock. At night we received two days' rations; I ate mine at one meal. On the 15th the division moved to Bunker Hill. I gave out. Starvation and a full meal had been too much for me. I suffered greatly, not from fatigue, but from illness. I stepped out of ranks, went fifty yards into the thicket, and lay down under a tree. That the enemy was following was likely enough; I hardly cared. I shrank from captivity, but I thought of death without fearing it. My mind was in a peculiar attitude toward the war. We had heard of the surrender of Vicksburg. Not even the shadow of demoralization had touched Lee's army in consequence of Gettysburg; but now men talked despairingly--with Vicksburg gone the war seemed hopeless. Under the tree was peace. Company H had gone on. Company A had gone on. What interest had they in me or I in them? I had fever. The sounds of the troops marching on the road reached me in the thicket. A few moments ago I was marching on the road. I was one of fifty thousand; they have gone on. Here, under this tree, I am one. But what one? I came I know not whence; I go I know not whither. Let me go. What matter where? My Captain has gone. Perhaps I wander in mind. I have fever. At one time I think I am going to die, and I long for death. The life I live is too difficult. And the South is hopeless. Better death than subjection. The Captain has not died too soon. What a strong, noble, far-seeing man! I shall never forget him. I shall never see his like, I envy him. He has resolved all doubt; I am still enchained to a fate that drags me on and on into ... into what? What does the Captain think now? Does he see me lying here? Can he put thoughts into my mind? Can he tell me who I am? What does he think now of slavery? of State rights? of war? He is at peace; he knows that peace is better. Yes, peace is better. He is at peace. Would I also were at peace.