It was General Smith’s division, with the gallant Hancock’s brigade in advance, which met the Confederates first, late in the afternoon. A charge was at once ordered, but the woods through which the soldiers sought to make their way was so thick but little progress could be made. The Goreville Volunteers rested that night upon their arms, ready at a moment’s notice to jump into battle should the call come. But General Smith’s division having fallen back a short distance, also took it easy in the darkness, and all remained, for the time being, comparatively quiet. In the meantime, large reinforcements of the remaining Union troops arrived. The following day the battle of Williamsburg started. The rain came down in a steady stream; it was so muddy and slippery men could scarcely stand upon their feet, as they moved forward, while only one battery in three could move at a time, so many extra horses being required for each piece. First shots were exchanged at half-past seven o’clock, and half an hour later the Goreville Volunteers moved forward in light marching order, each soldier furnished with forty rounds of ammunition. Once more Louis’s heart beat fast. He felt he was going into a bloody contest, such as had been experienced at Bull Run. He gripped his gun tightly, and advanced with the others on the double-quick. They were forcing their way through a thick patch of brush, but now they came upon a small clearing. Directly opposite was a Confederate battery, backed up by one or two regiments of militia and a troop of cavalry. “Boys, we must take that battery!” cried the general in charge, as he galloped along the line. “Forward now, and keep the line closed up!” Scarcely had the order been given than the battery in question blazed forth, seemingly in their very faces. Every man dropped, and the aims of the gunners being unusually high, the grape and canister flew above them, clipping the brush off cleaner than it would have been cut by a monstrous scythe. There was a yell--from Jerry Rowe, who felt sure he was hit--and then the company moved forward, each gun pointed straight ahead, the rain running in streams from the row of glistening bayonets. It was a strange, thrilling sight, as that solid mass of boys in blue came on. Nearer and nearer they swept, and now the battle cry rang out, growing louder and louder, a strong, determined cry, from men who meant to do or die. Again the battery belched forth, and now the aim was true and half a score of soldiers went down, some dead, some dying, a few slightly wounded. For a second the terrific shock caused a pause. Then Jerry Rowe tried to take to his heels. “Close up, boys, close up! Forward!” came the command, and the ranks of the regiment closed up the gaps made by those shot down, and again they moved forward on the double-quick. Jerry suddenly found himself running straight into the point of an extended sword.