After the excitement of the attack, the men dropped down wherever they stood, in the streets, in the fields, or in the woods, and slept soundly until noon, the rain continuing to fall in torrents.  But what was that to men worn out with marching?  I never slept better than when lying in a newly-plowed corn-field, with the mud over my ankles, the rain pelting me in the face, and not a blanket to cover me.

Bang! bang! bang! and up I jumped from my bed of mud, thinking the fight had again commenced.  Somewhat bewildered, I rubbed the ’sacred soil’ from my eyes and looked about me.  It was noon; the rain had ceased, and from the constant sound of musketry, I supposed a battle was then raging.  But instead of fighting the ‘secesh,’ I soon found the Indiana boys were making havoc among the fowls of the chivalry.  They fired too much at random to suit my taste, and I made tracks for a safer abode.  Beating a hasty retreat to the hill where my company was stationed, I found a large crowd gathered around some of the captured wagons, overhauling the plunder.  And what a mixed-up mess!  Old guns, sabres, bowie-knives, pistols made in Richmond in 1808, old uniforms that looked like the property of some strolling actor, and love-letters which the bold chivalry had received from fair damsels, who all expressed the desire that, their ‘lovyers’ would bring home, Old Abe’s scalp.  These letters afforded great amusement to our boys, though it was hard to read many of them, and were they put into print, Artemus Ward would have to look to his ‘lorrels.’

Bang! bang! bang! they kept on shooting till dark.  It is useless to say we had chickens for supper that night; and I would not be surprised if the chicken crop of Phillippi and vicinity should be rather small for a few years to come.

Wild rumors were running through the camp all day that the ‘secesh’ had been reinforced, were ten thousand strong, and, with forty pieces of cannon, would attack us that night.  Some said they were commanded by Gov.  Wise, the lunatic, others by Beauregard, and some positively asserted that Jeff Davis led the rebel forces himself.  At all events, it was pretty well settled that we were to be attacked forthwith.  Our men slept on their arms, but not a secesh appeared.

I, as usual, was on guard that night, and, feeling that a great responsibility rested on my shoulders, was ‘doubly armed.’  A well-known professor, a member of the same company as myself, was on the first relief; I was on the second.  I went on duty at ten o’clock, P.M., and the professor kindly loaned me his revolver, and, in addition, soon returned with an extra musket, a secession sabre, and one of the captured pistols.  Thus loaded down with swords, pistols, and muskets, and guarding a six-pounder, I felt tolerably safe.  After walking up and down my beat a few times, I found the two muskets began to feel rather heavy, and the two sabres to be rather uncomfortable dangling about my legs; and thinking that two revolvers and a secesh pistol would be all that I could use to advantage, I divested myself of the extra equipments, and passed the residue of my ‘two-hours’ watch’ in committing to memory ‘my last dying words,’ for use in case the secesh put an end to my existence.