“Where we struck the train a rebel brass cannon was stuck in the mud. Two rebs were on one side of it tugging away at a wheel trying to turn it on our lines. Two of our regiment grabbed the other wheel and tried to turn it the other way, but it was so firmly imbedded in the mud that neither side could budge it. The blue and the gray glared at each other and finally Pat Devereaux of the 2d heavy, spoke out, “Say Johnnie, lave your hands off that gun, I tell ye!” and the reb retorted as follows: ‘Go soak your head, Pat. I wouldn’t dirty my hands with you, I’ll get my nigger to attend to your case.’ Just then Pat grabbed the rammer to the gun and went for the Johnnie in true Irish style, saying as he brought the rammer down upon his enemy: ‘I can whip the bist man in your measly gang. You’re nothing but a dirty lazy lot of slave drivers. Out of this, I say!’ and the Johnnie went, leaving Pat the victor. And that is how Private Devereaux of the 2d helped take one of the four cannon captured by the 2d corps that day.” In these days if such an act of heroism were performed, it would be heralded all over the continent, but such occurrences were too common in those exciting times, besides each regimental commander did not have two or three war correspondents at his elbows for the purpose of writing up his achievements. The operations of our corps that day are summarized by Gen. Humphreys as follows: Captures of the corps, 13 battleflags, 4 cannon, 1,700 prisoners. Killed and wounded of the 1st and 2d divisions (the 3d division not reported), 311. Gen. Mott was among the wounded. The enemy’s killed and wounded largely exceeded our own and the loss of the wagon train must have caused much suffering among the Confederates. In addition to the battleflags, cannon and prisoners, our brigade captured over 200 supply wagons. DIXIE TO THE LAST. Among the prisoners captured that day was a rebel brass band, and they were allowed to retain their instruments. As the column of confederates were marched along the roadside, which was lined on either side by the Union forces, they were headed by the band, playing their national air of Dixie. The scene was an impressive one. They were prisoners of war, bleeding from wounds, faint and famished, ragged and nearly barefoot and their last hope gone, but as the familiar strains of the music floated back over the line their faces brightened, their steps quickened and they marched as they had marched many a time behind their beloved leader, Gen. Lee. Our men had too much respect for these brave men to jeer at them. The brave invariably respect the brave, and as the soldiers of the “Lost Cause” passed the veterans of the second corps all were silent and respectful, except for an occasional burst of applause which manifested itself by the clapping of hands.