It happened that the rest of the brigade did not encounter the obstruction and were ready to advance when our regiment was tangled up in the vines. Being in the center the delay was noticed. Finally a staff officer, one of those slick fellows with red sash, riding gauntlets and plenty of gold braid, rode down on the opposite bank and called out, “What in h--ll is the matter with the 2d New York, and where is the commanding officer?” Col. Hulser (he was then a major) looked up from under an old slouch hat, the rest of his uniform being no better than the privates, and paid his respects to that dude of an officer in language that was highly tinctured with brimstone. The regiment formed in line on the south bank exposed to a fierce artillery fire, and the boys noticed that the dandy officer from the general’s staff ducked his head low on his horse’s neck quite frequently, while the old major, who was always ill at ease on dress parades and reviews, sat his horse, amid the screeching shells like a bronze figure. When Hulser had gotten his regiment lined up to suit him he said to the officer, “In ten minutes the 2d New York will capture that rebel battery unless they limber up and get out of our way.” Drawing his sword he gave the command, “Forward, guide center, double-quick,” and away went the men with a rush, for everyone probably felt that they would like to show the officious staff officer that they were no cowards. But when the Johnnies saw that glistening line of bayonets moving down on them they pulled up and ran away. The enemy had another battery in position about a half a mile away, and they did some rapid firing for the “Lost Cause;” but some of our troops got after them on the flank and they pulled up and ran again. A comrade has told me that he saw a man killed by a shell that day and the shell did not touch him. It passed close to his head and the concussion killed him instantly. The troops in our front were Gen. Gordon’s and about 4 o’clock they made a determined stand, as our troops were pressing them so closely they were in danger of losing their train of supplies. Our regiment was in some second growth pine woods and the rebels behind a rail fence on the other edge of the woods, and through the trees the moving wagons could be seen. The order came to “charge,” and Gen. Miles’ old first division went for the enemy with a rush and some cavalry on the flank went after that train. The fighting was general and things became badly mixed up. The teamsters lashed their horses and tried to get away, but many cut the traces and abandoned their loads. The Confederates tried to hold the opposite side of the train and used the wagons as a shelter, and the combatants banged at each other through the wagons. PAT CAPTURES A GUN. A comrade of my regiment who was in the immediate ranks that day, says: