“Minutes, which seemed like ages, had passed, and the horrible din was then doubled by the opening of all our batteries.  The ground beneath me trembled, but as time passed and our guns kept up their steady fire, and the infantry evidently remained unshaken in their lines of defence, my confidence became stronger.  By degrees you grow accustomed to almost anything, and I now found leisure to observe my companions behind the rock.  I instantly perceived that two of them were press-correspondents, young, boyish-looking fellows, who certainly proved themselves veterans in coolness and courage.  Even in that deadly tempest they were alert and busy with their note-books.

“When the caisson exploded, each swiftly wrote a few cabalistic symbols.  There was a house to the left, as we sat feeing our rear, and I saw that they kept their eyes on that almost continually.  Curious to know why, I shouted in the ear of one, asking the reason.  He wrote, ‘Meade’s headquarters,’ and then I shared their solicitude.  That it was occupied by some general of high rank, was evident from the number of horses tied around it, and the rapid coming and going of aids and orderlies; but it seemed a terrible thing that our commander-in-chief should be so exposed.  Shells flew about the little cottage like angry hornets about their nest, and every few minutes one went in.  The poor horses, tied and helpless, were kicking and plunging in their terror, and one after another went down, killed or wounded.  I was told that General Meade and staff were soon compelled to leave the place.

“The hours of the cannonade grew monotonous and oppressive.  Again and again caissons were exploded and added to the terrible list of casualties.  Wagons and ambulances—­such of them as were not wrecked—­were driven out of range.  Every moment or two the ground shook with the recoil and thunder of our batteries, while the air above and around us seemed literally filled with shrieking, moaning, whistling projectiles of almost every size and pattern in present use.  From them came puffs of smoke, sharp cracks, heard above the general din, as they exploded and showered around us pieces of jagged iron.  When a shell bursts, its fragments strike the ground obliquely, with a forward movement; therefore our comparative safety behind our rock, which often shook from the terrific impact of missiles on its outer side.  So many had now sought its shelter that some extended beyond its protection, and before the cannonade was over two were killed outright, almost within reach of my arm.  Many of the wounded, in going to the rear, were struck down before reaching a place of safety.  The same was true of the men bringing ammunition from the caissons in the depression beneath us.  Every few minutes an officer of some rank would be carried by on a stretcher, with a man or two in attendance.  I saw one of these hastily moving groups prostrated by a shell, and none of them rose again or struggled.  I only tell you of these scenes in compliance with your wish, Miss Marian, and because I see that you have the spirit of a soldier.  I was told that, in the thickest of the fight, the wife of a general came on the field in search of her husband, who was reported wounded.  I believe that you could have done the same.”