"At the sound of the bugle we took the trot, the gallop, and then the charge. As we neared their line we were welcomed by a fearful musketry fire, which temporarily confused the leading squadron, and caused the entire brigade to oblique slightly to the right. Instantly officers cried out, 'Forward! Forward!' The men raised their sabres, and responded to the command with deafening cheers. Within a hundred yards of the enemy's line we struck a blind ditch, but crossed it without breaking our front. In a moment we were face to face with the enemy. They stood as if awed by the heroism of the brigade, and in an instant broke in complete rout, our men sabring them as they vainly sought safety in flight. In this charge the battery and many prisoners were captured. Our own loss was severe, and of the officers of the Second, Captain Rodenbough lost an arm and Lieutenant Harrison wag taken prisoner.
"It was the writer's misfortune to be captured, but not until six hundred yards beyond where the enemy was first struck, and when dismounted in front of their second line by his horse falling. Nor did he suffer the humiliation of a surrender of his sabre, for as he fell to the ground with stunning force its point entered the sod several inches, wellnigh doubling the blade, which, in its recoil, tore the knot from his wrist, flying many feet through the air.
"Instantly a crowd of cavalry and infantry officers and men surrounded him, vindictive and threatening in their actions, but unable to repress such expressions as these: 'Great heavens! what a fearful charge!' 'How grandly you sailed in!' 'What brigade?' 'What regiment?' As the reply proudly came, 'Reserve Brigade, Second United States Cavalry,' they fairly tore his clothing off, taking his gold watch and chain, pocket-book, cap, and even spurs, and then turned him over to four infantrymen. What a translation—yea, transformation! The confusion, disorder, and actual rout produced by the successive charges of Merritt's First Cavalry Division would appear incredible did not the writer actually witness them. To the right, a battery, with guns disabled and caissons shattered, was trying to make to the rear, the men and horses impeded by broken regiments of cavalry and infantry. To the left, the dead and wounded in confused masses around their field hospitals—many of the wounded, in great excitement, seeking shelter in Winchester. Directly in front an ambulance, the driver nervously clutching the reins, while six men, in great alarm, were carrying to it the body of General Rhodes. Not being able to account for the bullets which kept whizzing past, the writer turned and faced our own lines to discover the cause and, if possible, to catch a last sight of the stars and stripes.
"The sun was well down in the west, mellowing everything with that peculiar golden hue which is the charm of our autumn days. To the left, our cavalry were forming for another and final charge. To the right front, our infantry, in unbroken line, in the face of the enemy's deadly musketry, with banners unfurled, now enveloped in smoke, now bathed in the golden glory of the setting sun, were seen slowly but steadily pressing forward. Suddenly, above the almost deafening din and tumult of the conflict, an exultant shout broke forth, and simultaneously our cavalry and infantry line charged. As he stood on tiptoe to see the lines crash together, himself and guards were suddenly caught in the confused tide of a thoroughly beaten army—cavalry, artillery, and infantry—broken, demoralized, and routed, hurrying through Winchester."
RING AROUND THE ROSY.
Jack was sitting quietly by the fire the other day, doing no harm to anybody, when a young person who thought well of himself rushed in and attacked him with the assertion, "You can't do that!"
The boy held out a card, upon which was drawn a dot in the centre of a circle, and repeated his challenge:
"You can't draw that figure without taking your pencil off the paper!"
