Held by a companion on the caisson, as it was driven toward our right, jolting over the partly torn-down fences and exposed to far-reaching missiles, I had an opportunity of seeing other portions of the battlefield. We stopped for a time on the ridge overlooking the village almost enveloped in the flames of burning buildings, while flocks of terrified pigeons, driven hither and thither by the screaming and bursting shells, flew round and round in the clouds of smoke. In hearing, from beyond and to the left of the village, was the fighting at "Bloody Lane," a sunken road which was almost filled with the dead of both sides when the day closed. As was also that at "Burnside Bridge," a mile southeast of the town, for the possession of which Burnside's corps and Toombs's Georgians contended till late in the afternoon. I was not averse to leaving this scene when the disabled caisson proceeded, and reached the pike.
A mile farther on I was deposited on the roadside, near the brigade field-hospital; and, completely exhausted, was carried into the yard of a neat brick cottage by two stalwart Alleghany Roughs and laid beside their captain, John Carpenter. The place, inside and out, was filled with wounded men. Carpenter insisted on my taking the last of his two-ounce vial of whiskey, which wonderfully revived me. Upon inquiry, he told me he had been shot through the knee by a piece of shell and that the surgeons wanted to amputate his leg, but, calling my attention to a pistol at his side, said, "You see that? It will not be taken off while I can pull a trigger." He entirely recovered, and led his battery into the next battle, where he was again severely wounded. That the history of the four Carpenter brothers of Alleghany County, Virginia, has not been recorded is a misfortune. As already mentioned, Joe, the oldest, and captain of the Alleghany Rough Battery, was mortally wounded near us at Cedar Mountain. John, who succeeded him as captain, after being wounded at Sharpsburg, was again wounded at Fredericksburg in 1862, where he was twice carried from the field, and as often worked his way back to his gun. In Early's campaign in 1864 he lost his right arm. In the same campaign his next younger brother, Ben, lieutenant in the same company, was shot through the lungs. The wounds of neither had healed when they received news, at their home, of the surrender at Appomattox. Mounting their horses, they set out for Gen. Joe Johnston's army in North Carolina, but, on arriving at Lexington, Virginia, heard of the surrender of that army. The fourth and youngest brother lost a leg near the close of the war. Like all true heroes, their modesty was as striking as their courage and patriotism.