General John C.Brown's division was supporting Cleburne's division, or, rather, "in echelon." Every few moments, a raking fire from the Yankee lines would be poured into our lines, tearing limbs off the trees, and throwing rocks and dirt in every direction; but I never saw a soldier quail, or even dodge.

We had confidence in old Joe, and were ready to march right into the midst of battle at a moment's notice.

While in this position, a bomb, loaded with shrapnel and grapeshot, came ripping and tearing through our ranks, wounding General Lucius E.Polk, and killing some of his staff.

And, right here, I deem it not inappropriate to make a few remarks as to the character and appearance of so brave and gallant an officer.

At this time he was about twenty-five years old, with long black hair, that curled, a gentle and attractive black eye that seemed to sparkle with love rather than chivalry, and were it not for a young moustache and goatee that he usually wore, he would have passed for a beautiful girl.
In his manner he was as simple and guileless as a child, and generous almost to a fault.