The awful vista gripped me as if by spectral fingers.

But for the movement just then of that cavalry regiment, recalling me to duty, I half believe I should have run, not from fright but to escape the horror.
They were moving forward past the front of the house, the men still on foot, gripping the leather at their horses' bits, the restive animals plunging so wildly as to make it seem more the advance of a mob than a disciplined body.

A shell exploded in the road to their left, tearing a hole in the white pike, and showering them with stones.

I could see bleeding faces where the flying gravel cut.

Another shrieked above, and came to earth just in front of the house, shattering the front steps into fragments, and leaving one of the wooden pillars hanging, unsupported.