and halting about 150 yards from the fence, we poured a
volley into the enemy's ranks. The One Hundred and Fifty-ninth New York
came down into line on our left, the Twenty-sixth Maine formed in our
rear, the Thirteenth Connecticut took position on our extreme left
occupying both sides of the road. The canes of the previous year's
sugar crop stood in the field and their volley firing didn't get our
range, and our lines were parallel with the furrows. The enemy's shot
rattled through the dry stalks, crackling like hail against the
windows. The enemy were armed with the smooth bores, every cartridge
charged with a bullet and three buck shot, while our regiment was armed
with Enfield rifles and so the Rebels, man for man were giving us four
shots to our one in return.

The enemy had an immense advantage in position and the conviction was
stealing over us that they had the advantage in numbers also. Our men
had warmed up to their work; every soldier had long before drained the
last drop from his canteen; the sun was rising high and hot and we
learned then that there is no thirst so burning and terrible as that
which seizes upon the soldier in battle. Every command given by the
Confederate officers was as distinctly heard by us as if given in our
own companies. Their lines already extended far beyond our flank and
their oft-repeated cheers told us how rapidly their ranks were being
increased by new arrivals. Suddenly a loud cheer from the Rebels; then
the thundering war of a field piece, and in an instant from overhead
came a crack, with a rain of iron fragments as a shell exploded right
over our line; another roar, a crack, and iron shower and we see to our
dismay two brazen guns admirably served, trained directly upon us
pouring shell grape and cannister into our ranks, while their musketry
fire grew hotter and fiercer than ever. Our men were nearing the end of
their supply of ammunition. If the Confederates had charged upon us at
this time they would have annihilated our brigade!

Wounded men were crawling to the rear, where Dr. Wood, with McGill and
his assistants, stood under their yellow hospital flag. Col. Bissell's
voice rang clear and cheerful as ever, but his face was anxious. Down
into the field came Bradley's battery at a gallop and very soon their
guns were answering the enemy's. Up went Bissell's sword, with a joyful
cheer, as he shouted to Lieutenant Dewey "There's music in the air!"
Our re-enforcements of ar