The other regiments formed in rear of the field. We were soon after moved to the rear and placed in position in the third reserve line. In this position we were more exposed to the enemy's artillery, his shells passing over the advance lines and bursting frequently over our heads, but generally far in our rear. Soon it was rumored down the ranks that Colonel Williams was wounded. A solid shot had passed through his horse in rear of his saddle, killing the animal and stunning the Colonel so badly that he had to be taken to the rear. Colonel Pugh, of the 41st Illinois, announced that he assumed command of the brigade.
Meantime the battle rose with great fury to our right. The firing grew into a deafening and incessant roar. For an hour we lay in this position, listening to the exploding shells around us; to the noises of battle to our right, and to reports that came in from different parts of the field. The day now seemed to be everywhere going well. It was ten o'clock. The battle had raged for three hours. But on the left of the army the enemy was making no serious attempts; the center, though furiously assailed, held its ground; and it was reported that on the right we were driving the enemy.
About this time General Grant, with two or three staff officers, rode up from the rear. We were about to raise a shout, but our officers ordered us to be silent. An Illinois regiment in front of us cheered lustily as he passed. The General's countenance wore an anxious look, yet bore no evidence of excitement or trepidation. He rode leisurely forward to the front line. We did not see him again till night, and then he was on the bluffs near the river endeavoring to rally his dispirited troops, and General Buell was with him.
About 11 o'clock, our regiment moved so far to the left that our left wing rested behind the cotton field. Looking forward we could see the two abandoned pieces. Side by side, like faithful comrades, they faced the foe, as if ashamed to fly like the ignoble men who had left them to their fate. But why were those guns left thus? We had remained on the field some time after they were abandoned, and had suffered little loss. After we had abandoned the field, volunteers had gone forward and spiked them. Why then could they not have been brought away? To see our cannon abandoned when the enemy could not come and take them away, was discouraging enough. It was an enigma which we did not wish to solve. Beyond the field we could now see the enemy distinctly, and some of the time his movements were plain to us. But he was beyond our range, and our officers would not allow us to fire. This was an excellent position for artillery, the open field affording free range and a fair view of the enemy to the right and left as well as to the front. Our duty was now to support the several batteries which were successively ordered to take position here, and which were successively either ordered away or disabled by the superior practice of the enemy. His artillery kept up a most vigorous fire. The air was full of his screeching missiles, and his shells burst over our heads continually. His canister reached us spent and only capable of afflicting with bruises; his ordinary shells did little mischief; his case shot had the most effect. But rapid as was his firing, when lying down, we suffered comparatively little.
Meanwhile the battle commenced furiously immediately to the right of the field and in front of the position from which we had just moved. A fierce yell of the enemy mingled with the increasing din of musketry announced the approach of his assailing columns. And now, as though a thousand angry thunders were joining their voices, the incessant jar grated horribly upon the ear, drowning all other sounds. The discharge of our artillery could scarcely be heard. Dense clouds of smoke lifted themselves above the combatants. We listened breathless with expectation. Suddenly the firing ceased, and a wild shout of triumph caught up by listening comrades, borne far along the line, announced that the assault had been repulsed. And now in the storm a few moments lull, and the assault was renewed with the same fury as before and with the same result. And thus, after battering those lines for two hours with his artillery, the enemy assailed them for three hours with his infantry, his attacking columns withering away each time before the well-directed fire of our heroic troops. Nowhere on all the field of battle did the storm rage so fiercely. Nowhere did the enemy assail and renew the assault with such rage, and nowhere did our troops fight with such inspiring valor. Nor was there a place on the field which after the battle showed so many marks of conflict. At one point, where the underbrush was heavy, it was for several rods around literally mowed down with rifle balls. Saplings no larger than a man's wrist were struck as many as seven times. The range of the balls seems to have been perfect, few striking lower than two, or higher than five feet from the ground. When it is known that this storm must have showered through the ranks of living multitudes, was anything more needed to account for the immense number of dead that strewed this part of the field. The troops that held this part of our line were the 3d Brigade of the Fourth Division, commanded by Gen. Lauman.
Thus we lay behind this open field silent spectators of the battle. Mann's Missouri battery was in position on the left of our regiment, and fired with great rapidity and effect. General Hurlbut twice rode up and complimented them, and his words moved the gallant Dutchmen to tears. At times during the conflict around us we could hear its noise on the more distant parts of the field. As far as we could hear beyond the 3d Brigade to our right, the firing grew more and more irregular, and farther and farther to the rear, which told us too well that our right and center were being crowded back. Men that came from our regimental camp reported that most of the forenoon the enemy's shells had been falling there, and that now, at noon, his infantry was very near. The 2d Brigade of the 4th Division which had been sent early in the morning to support Sherman near the center had been broken by overwhelming numbers and driven from its positions with great loss. Everywhere, except on the left, our line had crumbled before the enemy. Now, let it be said to the honor of the 4th Division, he had found his Farm of Hougomont. The 1st and 3d Brigades of Hurlbut and the 2d Brigade of Sherman, commanded by Colonel Dave Stuart, had held this position unshaken since morning, and the enemy's assaults had only served to multiply his dead.
At length he lost his reason in his baffled rage; and failing in his repeated efforts to break the 3d Brigade, and thus propagate on our left the disorder of the center, he undertook to carry the cotton field and capture the annoying battalions behind it by direct assault. A brigade leaped the fence, line after line, and formed on the opposite side of the field. It was a splendid sight, those men in the face of death closing and dressing their ranks, hedges of bayonets gleaming above them, and their proud banners waving in the breeze; our guns, shotted with canister, made great gaps in their ranks, which rapidly closed, not a man faltering in his place. And now their field officers waved their hats. A shout arose, and that column, splendidly aligned, took the double quick and moved on magnificently. We could not repress exclamations of admiration. There is a grandeur in heroism, even when connected with a bad cause. We could not hate those men. Were they committing a crime? They had been educated to love what we hated. They could not advance so splendidly upon death itself, and imagine it was for aught but a noble cause. Nevertheless, it seemed to us like the wrong assaulting the right—like the night advancing upon the day; dark and gloomy, it is true, but with all the majesty of night. We saw the truth; we pitied the event, but recognized the inexorable necessity of firing upon those men. Our officers ordered us to reserve our fire and wait for the word. On, on came their unwavering line. Not a man faltered; not a gun they fired. Not a gap occurred, save where our canister went plunging through, and these were speedily closed. Suddenly a few rifles were heard in the 32d Illinois on our left, and a field officer was seen to fall. And then all along our regimental line a crash of muskets maintained in a steady roar, followed by a cloud of blinding smoke, through which we could see nothing. We knew not whether they stood or fell, halted, retreated, or advanced. We only knew that their bullets at times rattled through the fence, and that some of our men were shot. We continued to load and fire until our officers ordered us to cease firing, and then it was not without much difficulty that they could make us understand and obey them. When the smoke cleared away, we saw what was left of this splendid brigade, retreating in good order by the right flank, by which movement they placed a hill between them and us. Singular enough, many muskets again commenced firing. The enemy's dead and wounded lay so thickly upon the field where his charge was first checked, that they looked like a line of troops lying down to receive our fire. It was some time before we could believe that such was not the case. When we saw our victory, there went up an exultant shout. It was a moment of ineffable joy to us. No one who has not felt it knows how a soldier feels in such a moment of triumph. We had served ten months, and marched and watched and fought, and suffered, and this was our first victory. But that single moment was sufficient to compensate us for all we had endured to gain it.