All the forenoon there was now and then cannonading to our front with occasional rattle of musketry, indicative of skirmishing, but by two or three o'clock there came the long swelling roar of infantry firing, giving evidence that our advance had overtaken the enemy and they were making a stubborn stand. The atmospheric conditions were such that from these sounds the battle appeared to be but a mile or two in our advance, and at every turn of the way we expected to see the blue line of smoke and snuff the odors of burning powder, while in fact the engagement was five or six miles distant. Reaching a point about two miles from the battlefield the regiment was ordered to unsling knapsacks, doff blankets and overcoats and march at quick step to the front. As we neared the field, panting from our exertion, we passed a brass band standing by the roadside. General Heintzelman, observing them as he passed, exclaimed in that nasal twang so familiar to all:
"Play, boys, play! Play Hail Columbia! Play Yankee Doodle! Play anything! Play like h—l!"
It is needless to add that the band promptly obeyed and the strains of the national quickstep put a new spring in our weary limbs, revived our flagging spirits and with a rousing cheer we pressed forward. Arriving on the field the regiment was deployed in line of battle in the woods to the right of the road, but darkness was settling over the field, the firing soon ceased and we were not engaged. The night following was extremely disagreeable. The rain continued to fall, and drenched to the skin we lay on our arms all night without fire, blankets or rations. By morning the lowering clouds were gone, and so also were the Johnnies, leaving their dead unburied and their wounded to our tender care. Many private houses of the ancient town, all of the churches and that venerable seat of learning, from whose halls came many of the nation's most eminent statesmen and patriots, William and Mary College, were turned into hospitals, where friend and foe were gathered from the field of conflict, housed, and cared for by our surgeons and nurses with undiscriminating attention.
An incident that well illustrates the reckless daring of General Kearny, and which ultimately lost him to our cause, as well as the influence of such acts upon others, occurred during this engagement. During the battle, General Kearny, accompanied by General Jameson, rode out to the front, and on an open piece of ground, in full view of the contending forces, the two sat there observing the progress of the battle, apparently oblivious of the fact that they were exposing themselves as targets to the enemy's sharpshooters. Past them the minie balls were zipping, while the air was redolent with the "ting" of musket balls and buck-shot. At length, satisfied with their observations, they coolly turned their horses about and rode to the rear. The day following, General Jameson was approached by one of his aides who had witnessed the act, who said to him:
"General, don't you think the risk you and General Kearny exposed yourselves to yesterday was unjustifiable?"
"I certainly do," the general candidly replied.
"Then why did you take the risk?" the aide queried.
"Captain," said the general, gravely, "If I had been conscious that I would have been hit the next minute I would not have turned my horse's head. Why, what would Kearny have thought of me!"
After the battle the regiment camped immediately west of town. Of course the commands that had borne the brunt of the battle were lionized, as were also those officers who had acted a conspicuous part. On this field General Hancock received his chief sobriquet, "The Superb," which clung to him throughout life. Regimental ranks, after a hard day's fighting, often were very much broken, the losses not always being catalogued as of the killed and wounded; roll calls exhibiting many names marked "missing," or "absent without leave." These absentees invariably reported fearful losses in their commands. While in camp at Williamsburg a strapping big fellow with turbaned head, blue jacket profusely decorated with gold lace, and baggy red trousers, wandered into our midst.
"Hello! What regiment?" one of the boys inquired.