A RUNNING FIGHT.
Our troops got orders to “go for ’em,” and it was a running fight until night, the race extending over fifteen miles of country.
They were anxious to save some wagon trains that had supplies for Lee’s army. All day they fought on the defensive, holding the Union forces off long enough for the trains to get out of the way, and then they would limber up their artillery and go flying to the rear and take up a new position a mile or two away, the infantry holding us off until the batteries were in position, when the troops would take shelter under their guns. When we pressed them too close the artillerymen would give our men grape and cannister, and then yield to the infantry.
Our artillery failed to do much execution that day because the Johnnies would not stand and take it.
The country was swampy and occasionally a wagon would get stuck in the mud and they would have to abandon it.
At one time, when our division was close upon the enemy, we descended a hill that led to a little stream, and on the other side was an elevation where the Rebs had gotten a battery into position.
Our regiment was in the first line of battle, and when the battery commenced firing we had got so far down the hill that the artillerymen could not depress their guns enough to reach us; but the reserve line that was on higher ground suffered severely.
The creek where we struck it was fringed with a vine that formed a perfect network. The vines were tough and would not break, and there was no way to crawl under or go over; so the men cut through with jack knives.
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.