Richmond” from Old Point Comfort. We soon appeared before the Confederate fortifications at Yorktown. Here we were ordered to dig. When the digging was done the Confederate forces abandoned their fortifications and marched to Richmond. We followed closely. Their rear guard made a stand at Williamsburg, stopping our advance. The battle of Williamsburg was then on. The Confederates had prepared to defend this position by making slashings, digging rifle pits and erecting forts. Fort Magruder covered the main road into Williamsburg. The engagement at this point was brought on by some New Jersey troops. They advanced a battery on this road to a point directly in front of the Fort and very near the rifle pits. Here the battery stuck in the mud, hub deep. It could not be moved further nor brought back. During the day it was captured and recaptured several times.

At that time my regiment, and the Michigan Second Infantry, were part of Gen. Phil Kearny’s Division. We were on the left of the road, the New Jersey troops on the right. In the middle of the afternoon, when Gen. Hancock was prepared to make his famous charge on the Confederate left, Gen. Kearny, mounted on a white horse and dressed in full uniform, as conspicuous a figure as can well be imagined, came dashing up to the Michigan Second regiment and called out—“What regiment is this?” Col. Poe, a regular army officer, immediately saluted the General and said—“The Michigan Second Infantry, Col. Poe commanding.” General Kearny said—“I want this regiment.” Col. Poe turned to give the required regulation orders, but Gen. Kearny stopped him saying—“None of that! Come on boys!” A captain of his staff, seeing what he was about to do, tried to stop him, saying—“General you should not go into the engagement in this way. Remember, your life is worth a whole regiment to the army.” Turning to him like a flash, Gen. Kearny said—“If you do not want to go, stay here.” At that he reined his horse into the road and started toward the Confederate lines, waving his sword and shouting back—“Come on boys!” and every man followed, on both sides of the road, pell mell, without order, wading through mud and climbing through slashings up to the rifle pits in order to get there. How I came to be there I do not know, but I do know that I went up that road with my right shoulder next to Gen. Kearny’s left stirrup and kept that position until he reached the further edge of the slashing, when he turned and, pointing to the Confederates in their rifle pits, shouted to the men coming after him—“There they are!! Give them hell, boys, give them hell!!”

At this moment, as if by inspiration, a band burst forth with the tune, “All hail, the conquering hero comes.” Above the roar of musketry and cannonading came the cheers from the charge Hancock was making. The New Jersey boys again manned their battery and began to play on the rifle pits and on Fort Magruder. The Fort answered and every Confederate rifle in the pits was speaking to us. No one who lived through those moments of strife and sacrifice will ever forget the scenes, the exaltation and the devotion of life to patriotic duty that was there manifested.

Our men struggled through the slashings as best they could, in groups of two or more. A New Jersey boy was with me. We stopped behind a clump of small bushes to watch our chances with the Confederates in the rifle pits less than two hundred feet in front of us. There was a larger group to our left that attracted the attention of the Confederates. Shots were being exchanged as rapidly as heads appeared on either side. Suddenly, out from the group to our left, came a ringing laugh, as joyous and care-free as was ever heard at a base ball game. My comrade was possessed with a desire to know its cause. Shortly that laugh came again. He declared he would go and find out why they were laughing. I told him if he