falling thus disgracefully to the rear. Officers make frantic exertions
to rally their men; useless effort. In little less than half an hour
this last stand has been swept away, and the Eleventh Corps is in
confused retreat down the pike towards headquarters, or in whatever
direction affords an outlet from the remorseless hail.

The general confusion which reigned can scarcely be more accurately
described than by detailing the experience of a single regiment.
The One Hundred and Nineteenth New York Volunteers was in Schurz's
division. It was commanded by an officer of German birth, but long
since an American citizen. No more gallant, intelligent man wore
uniform, or one better fitted for a pattern soldier. Well read in
military matters, he had never yet been under fire, and was nervously
anxious to win his spurs. The regiment was a good one; but only three
or four officers, and a small percentage of enlisted men, had seen
service.

This regiment faced south on the pike just west of the fork in the
roads. Under arms in an instant, when the firing was heard on the right,
it was soon ordered by one of Schurz's aides to throw itself across the
fork, and hold it at all hazards. But the suddenness of the attack had
momentarily robbed Col. Peissner of his steadiness, for he was a good
drill-master. Instead of facing to the right, counter-marching, filing
to the left across the road, and coming to a front,--the simplest if
longest movement being the best in times of such excitement,--he faced
to the left because his left was nearest to the fork, filed to the left,
and then, instead of coming on the left by file into line, he moved
astride the roads, and ordered "Front!" This brought the regiment in
line with its back to the enemy. The men instinctively came each to an
about-face, and the file closers broke through to the now rear. There