" Both sides claim
the victory--both whipped.
I stood picket in Perryville the night before the battle--a Yankee on
one side of the street, and I on the other. We got very friendly during
the night, and made a raid upon a citizen's pantry, where we captured
a bucket of honey, a pitcher of sweet milk, and three or four biscuit.
The old citizen was not at home--he and his whole household had gone
visiting, I believe. In fact, I think all of the citizens of Perryville
were taken with a sudden notion of promiscuous visiting about this time;
at least they were not at home to all callers.
At length the morning dawned. Our line was drawn up on one side of
Perryville, the Yankee army on the other. The two enemies that were soon
to meet in deadly embrace seemed to be eyeing each other. The blue coats
lined the hillside in plain view. You could count the number of their
regiments by the number of their flags. We could see the huge war dogs
frowning at us, ready at any moment to belch forth their fire and smoke,
and hurl their thunderbolts of iron and death in our very midst.
I wondered why the fighting did not begin. Never on earth were our
troops more eager for the engagement to open. The Yankees commenced to
march toward their left, and we marched almost parallel to our right--
both sides watching each other's maneuvers and movements.
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