at what was known as the "hornet's nest" was most terrific, and had not the First battery held out so heroically and valiantly the rebels would have succeeded in forcing a retreat of the Union lines to a point dangerously near the Tennessee river. Capt. Munch's horse received a bullet In his head and fell, and the captain himself received a wound in the thigh, disabling him from further service during the battle. After Capt. Munch was wounded Lieut. Pfaender took command of the battery, and he had a horse shot from under him during the day. On the morning of April 7, Gen. Buell having arrived, the battery was held in reserve and did not participate in the battle that day. The First battery was the only organization from Minnesota engaged in the battle, and their conduct in the fiercest of the struggle, and in changing position in face of fire from the whole rebel line, was such as to receive the warmest commendation from the commanding officer. It was the first battle in which they had taken part, and as they had only received their guns and horses a few weeks before, they had not had much opportunity for drill work. Their terrible execution at critical times convinced the rebels that they had met a foe worthy of their steel. * * * * * Among the many thousands left dead and dying on the blood-stained field of Pittsburg Landing there was one name that was very dear in the hearts of the patriotic people of St. Paul,--a name that was as dear to the people of St. Paul as was the memory of the immortal Ellsworth to the people of Chicago. Capt. William Henry Acker, while marching at the head of his company, with uplifted sword and with voice and action urging on his comrades to the thickest of the fray, was pierced in the forehead by a rebel bullet and fell dead upon the ill-fated field. Before going into action Capt. Acker was advised by his comrades not to wear his full uniform, as he was sure to be a target for rebel bullets, but the captain is said to have replied that if he had to die he would die with his harness on. Soon after forming his command into line, and when they had advanced only a few yards, he was singled out by a rebel sharpshooter and instantly killed--the only man in the. company to receive fatal injuries. "Loved, almost adored, by the company," says one of them, writing of the sad event, "Capt. Acker's fall cast a deep shadow of gloom over his command." It was but for a moment. With a last look at their dead commander, and with the watchword 'this for our captain,' volley after volley from their guns carried death into the ranks of his murderers. From that moment but one feeling seemed to possess his still living comrades--that of revenge for the death of their captain. How terribly they carried out that purpose the number of rebel slain piled around the vicinity of his body fearfully attest.