1863-July 3

About 3 this morning, as it began to grow light, a strong skirmish line was formed and we were ordered forward and to align ourselves and go slowly and cautiously, and see if we could retake our works. After going through a strip of woods we came to an opening beyond which were our works. About four or five rods from our breastworks the rebels had also a strong line of skirmishers. We poured a volley into them and it was returned vigorously and the firing along the whole line of skirmishers became more and more rapid and incessant .In about an hour as there had been no advance on either side by the skirmishers from the position first taken, although some were killed and many wounded on both sides, a second line of rebel skirmishers more numerous than the first came over the breastworks and joined their first line and advanced rapidly upon us. We were forced to retreat as fast as possible back through the woods. We went and met our brigade advancing in line of battle. One volley was poured into them and it checked them instanter and they about faced and retreated, leaving many dead and wounded. We continued to advance, passed their dead and wounded until within short range of our works, and from our own breastworks which was now their protection, they poured such a withering fire into our ranks and which was followed by volley after volley that our brigade was forced to retreat back through the woods and out of range of their musketry; and so it was a continued fight of advance and retreat, advance and retreat. The rebels were in large force behind these works which we had built for our own protection and we could not start them, and so the fight continued until about 3 in the afternoon, the dead and wounded on both sides mixed together indiscriminately. All at once it seemed as if all the artillery in the universe had opened fire and was belching forth its missals of death and destruction to friend and foe. The thundering of the artillery was rapid and loud on both sides and the solid shot and shells of both armies going over our heads, the infantry enjoyed a state of rest. For two or three hours this terrible artillery warfare raged and then the guns of the enemy began to slacken and ours to grow less and less --- and then ceased altogether --- and we were ordered forward and continued up to our breastworks and took possession, not a rifle being fired, the rebels having retreated, leaving their dead and wounded on the field of battle. Pickets were thrown out in front and a strong body behind our works to guard against surprise during the night. We built fires all over the battle field and the dead of the blue and gray were being buried all night, and the wounded carried to the hospital. We made no distinction between our own and the confederate wounded, but treated them both alike, and although we had been engaged in fierce and deadly combat all day and weary and all begrimed with smoke and powder and dust, many of us went around among the wounded and gave cooling water or hot coffee to drink. The confederates were surprised and so expressed themselves that they received such kind treatment at our hands, and some of the slightly wounded were glad they were wounded and our prisoners. But in front of our breastworks, where the confederates were massed in large numbers, the sight was truly awful and appalling. The shells from our batteries had told with fearful and terrible effect upon them and the dead in some places were piled upon each other, and the groans and moans of the wounded were truly saddening to hear. Some were just alive and gasping, but unconscious. Others were mortally wounded and were conscious of the f act that they could not live long; and there were others wounded, how bad they could not tell, whether mortal or otherwise, and so it was they would linger on some longer and some for a shorter time-without the sight or consolation of wife, mother, sister or friend. I saw a letter sticking out of the breast pocket of one of the confederate dead, a young man apparently about twenty-four. Curiosity prompted me to read it. It was from his young wife away down in the state of Louisiana. She was hoping and longing that this cruel war would end and he could come home, and she says, "Our little boy gets into my lap and says, `Now, Mama, I will give you a kiss for Papa.' But oh how I wish you could come home and kiss me for yourself." But this is only one in a thousand. But such is war and we are getting used to it and can look on scenes of war, carnage and suffering with but very little feeling and without a shudder.