“Suddenly shrill bugle-blasts in every direction called us into line.  We were moved through Emmetsburg, filed to the left into a field until other troops passed, and then took our place in the column and began a forced march to Gettysburg.  Again we suffered terribly from the heat and the choking clouds of dust raised by commands in advance of us.  The sun shone in the west like a great, angry furnace.  Our best men began to stagger from the ranks and fall by the wayside, while every piece of woods we passed was filled with prostrate men, gasping, and some evidently dying.  But on, along that white, dusty road, the living torrent poured.  Only one command was heard.  ‘Forward!  Forward!’

“First, like a low jar of thunder, but with increasing volume and threatening significance, the distant roar of artillery quickened the steps of those who held out.  Major Strahan was again on his feet, with other officers, their horses loaded down with the rifles of the men.  Even food and blankets, indeed almost everything except ammunition, was thrown away by the men, for, in the effort to reach the field in time, an extra pound became an intolerable burden.

“At midnight we were halted on what was then the extreme left of Meade’s position.  When we formed our regimental line, as usual, at the close of the day, not over one hundred men and but five or six officers were present.  Over one hundred and fifty had given out from the heat and fatigue.  The moment ranks were broken the men threw themselves down in their tracks and slept with their loaded guns by their sides.  Strahan and I felt so gone that we determined to have a little refreshment if possible.  Lights were gleaming from a house not far away, and we went thither in the hope of purchasing something that would revive us.  We found the building, and even the yard around it, full of groaning and desperately wounded men, with whom the surgeons were busy.  This foretaste of the morrow took away our appetites, and we returned to our command, where Strahan was soon sleeping, motionless, as so many of our poor fellows would be on the ensuing night.

“Excessive fatigue often takes from me the power to sleep, and I lay awake, listening to the strange, ominous sounds off to our right.  There were the heavy rumble of artillery wheels, the tramp of men, and the hoarse voices of officers giving orders.  In the still night these confused sounds were wonderfully distinct near at hand, but they shaded off in the northeast to mere murmurs.  I knew that it was the army of the Potomac arriving and taking its positions.  The next day I learned that General Meade had reached the field about one A.M., and that he had spent the remaining hours of the night in examining the ground and in making preparations for the coming struggle.  The clear, white moonlight, which aided him in his task, lighted up a scene strange and beautiful beyond words.  It glinted on our weapons, gave to the features of the sleepers the hue of death, and imparted to Strahan’s face, who lay near me, almost the delicacy and beauty of a girl.  I declare to you, that when I remembered the luxurious ease from which he had come, the hero he was now, and all his many acts of kindness to me and others,—­when I thought of what might be on the morrow, I’m not ashamed to say that tears came into my eyes.”