For three days and nights we were on the line at Hagerstown, skirmishing every day.  Captain Shooter of the First now commanded the battalion.  We were told that the Potomac was at a high stage, and that we must wait until a pontoon bridge could be laid.

At ten o’clock on the night of the 13th the sharp-shooters received orders to hold their line at all hazards until dawn; then to retire.  The division was withdrawing and depended upon us to prevent the advance of the enemy.  Rain fell all night.  We were wet to the skin and almost exhausted through hunger, fatigue, and watching.

At daylight we were back at the breastworks.  Everybody had gone.  We followed after the troops.  The rain ceased, but the mud was deep; the army had passed over it before us.  We marched some ten miles.  After sunrise we could hear a few shots, now and then, behind us.  We supposed that the enemy’s advance was firing on our stragglers as they would try to get away.  The march was very difficult, because of the mud and mainly because of our exhaustion.

We reached the top of a high hill overlooking the Potomac a mile away.  It must have been after ten o’clock.  On the Virginia hills we could see a great host of men, and long lines of artillery and wagons—­some filing slowly away to the south, others standing in well-ordered ranks.  On some prominent hills batteries had been planted.  It was a great sight.  The sun was shining on this display.  Lee’s army had effected a crossing.

On the Maryland side the road descending was full of troops.  At the river was a dense mass of wagons, and brigade upon brigade with stacked arms, the division resting and waiting for its turn to cross; for there was but one bridge, over which a stream of men was yet passing, and it would take hours for all to cross.

We were halted on the hill.  A moment was sufficient for the men to decide that the halt would be a long one.  Down everybody dropped on the ground, to rest and sleep.

The next thing I knew I was wide awake, with rifles cracking all around me.  I sprang to nay feet.  Somebody, just in my rear, fired, with his gun at my left ear; for weeks I was deaf in that ear.  Men on horses were amongst us—­blue men with drawn sabres and with pistols which they were firing.  Our men were scattering, not in flight, but to deploy.

A horseman was coming at me straight—­twenty yards from me.  He was standing in his stirrups and had his sword uplifted.  I aimed and fired.  He still came on, but for a moment only.  He doubled up and went headforemost to the ground.

The battalion had deployed.  But few, if any, of the horsemen who had ridden into us had got away; but they were only the advance squadron.  More were coming.  Our line was some two hundred and fifty yards long, covering the road.  We advanced.  It would not do to allow the enemy to see, over the crest of the hill, our compacted troops at the head of the bridge.  The numbers of the Federals constantly increased.  They outflanked us on our right.  They dismounted and deployed as skirmishers.  They advanced, and the fighting began.