Once, a young officer on a besplashed charger nearly ran him down.

He turned and watched the mass of guns, men, and horses sweeping in a wide curve toward a gap in a fence.

The officer was making excited motions with a gauntleted hand.
The guns followed the teams with an air of unwillingness, of being dragged by the heels.
Some officers of the scattered infantry were cursing and railing like fishwives.

Their scolding voices could be heard above the din.

Into the unspeakable jumble in the roadway rode a squadron of cavalry.