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The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 190 [05-05-1862]

       The night of [unclear words] battle.
concerning my horse: I feared he might get
mired irretreacably.      However I kept on, the
volleys of artillery sounding louder and louder.
Perceiving a battery in a field I asked its name,
found it was Ayres� and rode to it.     Under
a hastily pitched Sibley tent, I found the Cap-
tain and some of his partly, lying as if utterly
exhausted on the mud, or some straw, or
anything.     I got but a cold welcome: �I�d
like to be able to say I�m glad to see you, Mr.
Gunn,� said Ayres, �but the fact is, you had
better be anywhere than here, this night.�  �What�s
the matter.�  �Why we are getting whipped like
h__l, that�s all!             You may be in for a worse
business than Bull�s Run!�           A little start-
led at this, I resolved to push for headquar-
ters, where I knew I should get as accurate
news as was procurable.   So, through the
mud, the rain, the artillery, the standing or
lying soldiers, I made my way to a house
of the ordinary Virginia sort, and getting a
soldier to hold my horse, effected an en-
trance through the groups at the threshold,
by exhibiting my pass.    In a room to the
left I distinguished old Gen. Sumner, to whom
I had had come slight introduction previously,
I think from Brigham.         Addressing him, I
inquired after that person and found that he               
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