until the forces both on my right and left had fallen back and gained a considerable distance to the rear. Then, finding that I was entirely unsupported, exposed to a rapidly increasing fire in front, and in danger of being surrounded, I ordered the regiment to fall back, which it did in good order, to the temporary breastwork from which it had advanced, the enemy following closely, but cautiously. Here I halted, with fragments of Meredith's brigade on my right and portions of the Twentieth New York State Militia, One hundred and twenty-first Pennsylvania Volunteers, and One hundred and forty-second Pennsylvania Volunteers, on my left. An unknown mounted officer brought me the flag of this latter regiment to know whether it was mine. The colonel having already fallen, I ordered it to be placed on my left, and portions of the regiment rallied around it and fought bravely. We now quickly checked the advance of the enemy. In fact, having the advantage of breastworks and woods, our fire was so destructive that the enemy's lines in front were broken, and his first attempt to flank us greeted with such an accurate oblique fire that it failed. But in a second attempt, made soon after, he gained our left flank, moving in single file and at double-quick. Up to this time the officers and men under my command had fought with the determined courage of veterans, and an effectiveness which the enemy himself respected and afterward acknowledged (to me in conversation while a prisoner in their hands). Not a man had left the ranks, even to carry a wounded comrade to the rear. But the regiment had lost terribly, and now did not number one-fourth of what it did two hours earlier in the day. The enemy, on the contrary, had increased, and was now rapidly forming on my left. All support had left both flanks and were already well to the rear. Hence I ordered the shattered remnants of as brave a regiment as ever entered the field to fall back, and accompanied it a few paces. Then stopping, perhaps 20 paces from the seminary, I turned, and, stooping dow, examined the condition of the enemy in front. At this instant, 4. 20 p. m., I was hit by a flank fire in both legs at the same instant, which caused the amputation of my right leg, and so shattered my left that it is now, at the end of eight and a half months, still unhealed and unserviceable. I was carried into the seminary by Private [Lyman D.] Wilson, of Company F, the only man near me, and who narrowly escaped, a ball carrying away the middle button on my coat-sleeve while my arm was around his neck. The regiment, passing on, had gained the north end of the seminary, and was fortunately covered from the flank fire (volley) which wounded me. It moved through the town to Cemetery Hill, where 8 officers and 113 men answered to roll-call next morning, though 21 officers and 446 men had gone into the fight. Two captains remained, one of whom (Captain Owens, of company D) commanded the regiment during the second and third days of the battle. It participated in the glorious repulse of the enemy's final charge on the left center on the evening of the third day, and was complimented in an order you (General Doubleday) issued the next day. Adjutant Allen and several men were wounded, and Lieutenant Trexler, of Company K, killed. It is with pleasure that I refer to the bravery and efficiency of the officers and the heroic, self-sacrificing spirit manifested by the men of the One hundred and fifty-first Pennsylvania Volunteers. I regret the loss of the many gallant patriots who lost their lives or received honorable scars in its ranks; but I rejoice it was in the