On subsequent battle-fields I have never known their recurrence.

Greater battles, larger streams, higher hills, broader fields, wider valleys, more extended camps, have come under my observation, but in none of them has the romance exceeded the reality.
The hours did not crowd into minutes, but the minutes almost extended into hours.

I frequently found, on consulting my watch, that occurrences, apparently of an hour's duration, were really less than a half or a quarter of that time.
As the sun rose, it passed into a cloud.

When it emerged, I fully expected it would be some distance toward the zenith, and was surprised to find it had advanced only a few degrees.
There was a light shower, that lasted less than ten minutes: I judged it had been twenty.
The evolutions of the troops on the field appeared slow and awkward.
They were really effected with great promptness.
General Lyon was killed before nine o'clock, as I very well knew.
It was some days before I could rid myself of an impression that his death occurred not far from noon.
The apparent extension of the hours was the experience of several persons on that field.

I think it has been known by many, on the occasion of their first battle.