Again Colonel Pattee's voice rings out: "Deploy Skirmishers!" and in less than a minute a line of Bucktails stretches through the woods, facing the enemy. There is no waiting. "Forward!" passes down the line, and we move out into the open field in front. A hundred yards ahead the cavalry are stubbornly facing a heavy force of rebel infantry that is crowding on them and steadily pushing them back. Now and then a man falls from his horse or rides back wounded. We were on lower ground than they, and the bullets whistled above us; but as we went up the rising ground, they began to hiss around our heads. We double-quicked forward and began firing.
Between us and the town there was a hollow, and on the farther ridge a road led down through the village. There was a wood on the left at the head of the hollow, and on the right a narrow strip of timber ran up to within two hundred yards of the road. The right of the regiment extended past the woods, or rather only a small portion of the left would strike them in moving straight forward. As we came to the ridge overlooking the hollow, we saw the rebel troops drawn up on the opposite slope. Soon they gave way and moved off toward the town out of sight, and a battery from the ridge opened with shell.
As soon as the battery opened fire, Robbins, myself, and two or three others started toward it. A rail fence ran along the hollow proper on the side next to us. As we neared the fence, Robbins, who was a few steps in advance, stopped.
"We had better stay here," he said, as he deliberately aimed at the battery.
"There are rebels in the woods there," meaning on the left. As he spoke, a bullet from the left clipped close over his gun barrel.
"See that!" he added, his aim not in the least disturbed. The gunners were shooting over us, as we supposed, at the line of battle farther back. But we had only fired a few shots when a shell burst in front of us, its fragments scattering dirt, fence rails, and splinters for yards around.
"Well! I think we'll go on," said Robbins. On we went to the farther side of the hollow, and under shelter of the bank, we kept up our fire with good effect. We would dodge their shells as they fired, and then rise and fire till they were ready again. Some riflemen in the vicinity of the battery gave us trouble, but failed to hit any of us.
After this had continued for some time, the One Hundred and Fifty-fifth Pennsylvania, a Zouave regiment, came down behind us on a double-quick, deployed as skirmishers. As they neared the fence a shell from the battery screamed over our heads, and exploding, killed one of their men. They heeded this no more than if it had not occurred, and came on with a cheer. Giving a parting shot to the battery which was now pulling out, we started on, bearing to the right toward the town. As we neared the point of the strip of woods on our right, Ginter, of Company E, stopped and sat down flat on the ground, remarking that it was getting mighty hot. I was of the same opinion, and halted a few feet in advance of him and fired a few shots in a kneeling posture. While thus engaged, I heard the sound of a blow behind me, and looking around, I saw Ginter tumbling on the ground, his heels in the air. He quickly gathered himself up to a sitting posture with a very rueful countenance, giving vent to his feelings in sundry expletives, as soon as he could get breath enough to deliver them properly. With many a doleful grunt he examined the extent of his injuries. A bullet had struck the belt of his cartridge-box, nearly over the heart. The ball had force enough almost to pierce the leather belt and severely bruise the chest, raising a lump half as large as a hen's egg, and very painful. Some fellow off to the left had reached for us, and well-nigh finished Ginter. He did not go to the rear, but kept on, holding his clothing from the painful bruise, too much engaged in this to do any more shooting.
A few minutes later, a rebel officer galloped along the line with a white flag. We were almost to the road at this time, at the outskirts of the town. We did not think of continuing the fight any longer, but some rebel soldiers on the left past the town, fired on us when we exposed ourselves, and we returned the treacherous fire, and advanced across the road. By the road, facing us as we approached, stood a negro cabin, out of which a rebel officer came as we reached it. A few words were exchanged between him and Adjutant Wright, and I think he was allowed to go down the road to where the main body of the rebel troops had halted. Our fire continuing, Colonel Pattee rode up to us, excitedly, to learn what it meant. Adjutant Wright explained that rebel skirmishers were still firing at us.
"Have this firing stopped at once," he said; and seeing a protest in Wright's face, he went on: "I tell you, you're excited, adjutant, and the men are excited. They've surrendered, and this must cease."