out encountering anything of note. The shrill notes of the bugle aroused us at four o'clock on the morning of the 5th, and soon after we were again on the road taking the direction of Staunton. The infantry marched in two columns, one on the right, the other on the left of the road; a body of cavalry moved in advance, while the road was occupied by the artillery and ordnance train. In this order we moved through a wooded country; and at times the skirmish fire in front was truly lively. Skirmishers were thrown out on either flank and we pushed on rapidly, until we came in sight of Piedmont. Here the enemy showed more strength; his artillery opened a well directed fire, and our own artillery responded as fast as the batteries came up. Soon the foggy atmosphere cleared, the sun shone out warm and bright, and, as the battle increased, things began to have a more cheerful appearance. With but little supper and less breakfast, it is a great relief to be ordered to take command of the skirmishers at the commencement of a battle, but this was the writer's orders. A strong line of skirmishers were pushed forward and the advance posts of the enemy were driven back on his main body, which was strongly posted on elevated ground in front of the village of Piedmont. They had hastily constructed breastworks of logs, rail fences, and such other material as came to hand. These defenses were musket-proof, but our artillery made sad havoc with them, and made it hot for their defenders. The enemy concentrated his force on our right wing, and pressed it hard, but was forced to retire. The battle continued, neither party gaining decisive advantage, till about 3 P. M., when Colonel Thoburn's brigade was moved over from the left to strengthen the right of our army. The 34th Mass. of this brigade was detached and, supported by the 54th Pennsylvania, was led by Colonel Wells up a ravine between two hills, thereby piercing the enemy's center, and from that position was enabled to flank the left wing of the enemy. This movement was made with great rapidity, and, strange to say, was totally unobserved by the enemy. These two regiments changed directions, and charged with a cheer up the hill and on the flank of the rebel left wing. They were received with a deadly volley of musketry, the 34th losing its color bearer and many men, killed and wounded. This did not check the impetuosity of the charge, and after a severe but brief hand-to-hand struggle the enemy gave way

and fell back, at first stubbornly, then more rapidly, but finally scampered off the field, leaving it strewed with dead and wounded, besides 1000 prisoners in our hands. The victory was complete, and all seemed to feel that the defeat at Newmarket had been fully avenged.

Before night, the 6th, the victorious column had reached Staunton, the first Federal force within that place since the opening of hostilities. Our army remained at Staunton till the morning of the 10th. It was employed during this time in gathering provisions, destroying the railroad and canal, and everything that belonged to the Confederate government, or that in any way would tend to its advantage or support. Several miles of the Virginia and Tennessee railroad were destroyed, the rails and ties being torn up, and the road rendered unserviceable. While the force lay at Staunton it was joined by General Crook, commanding a division of infantry, and General Averill with a small division of cavalry, with the usual proportion of artillery from the valley of the Kanawha.

From Staunton we advanced through the country in three columns, Crook to the right, Hunter center, and Averill the left. In this manner we moved through Fairfax and Lexington. At the latter place we burned the Virginia Military Institute buildings, several mills, and large warehouses, Governor Letcher's residence, and a very large quantity of military supplies. We crossed the James river at Buchanan, the night of the 14th and ascended the Blue Mountains by a steep and circuitous route to "Peaks of Otter." We passed Liberty late the 16th, and by the afternoon of the 17th were driving General Breckinridge's forces back upon Lynchburg. An hour or two more of daylight and Lynchburg would have been ours. By the sound, train after train arrived during the night, and we could hear the troops they bore moving out, and working diligently on the defenses of the place. Our infantry lay in a narrow skirt of woods, with a high hill in the rear, and a formidable redoubt on another hill in our immediate front, and within easy rifle range. Our skirmish line ran along on the face of the hill, the summit of which was crowned by the enemy's earthworks, and was so close up to the latter that it left no room for an opposing line on his part, but the parapet of his works gave ample cover to his sharpshooters, and, when early morning lighted up the scene, they were not slow in letting our

skirmishers know that they were "thar." A little further to the left the woods extended a couple of hundred yards further to the front, and the extreme edge of this wood was here occupied by our line of skirmishers. Several of our rifled batteries occupied the high hill in the rear of our infantry. All through the early morning, supreme quiet reigned along the lines, and it was not till about sunrise that it was broken by the enemy, who opened with his artillery from the earthwork in front of us. Our guns on the hill in the rear promptly responded, and for some time a roaring artillery fire was kept up on both sides. The enemy having ascertained the position of our batteries after a while ceased firing, except an occasional shot; and our gunners soon became correspondingly inactive. The enemy must have felt, as well as seen, the effects of our practice, for, while the cannonade continued, shells could be constantly seen tearing up the parapet of his works, or exploding among the defenders.

About noon all was unusually quiet along the front. The artillery on both sides had entirely ceased, and, except the occasional crack of a rifle, scarcely a sound disturbed the midday quiet. One unaware of the fact would scarcely believe that two hostile forces lay confronting each other and ready in a moment to enter into deadly combat. Now, away to the left, the roar of Duffie's cannon suddenly breaks the oppressive stillness, and a moment later the "rebel yell" ran along the enemy's lines. They come-the gray, the brown, the "butternut" commingled, but in splendid military order. Howling forth that hideous yell, they rushed madly on, unchecked by the galling and rapid fire of our well-trained skirmishers. Suddenly there is a deafening roar and the ground trembles with the concussion; our artillery on the hill in the immediate rear opens on them; great gaps are cut in their ranks; that high-toned yell grows fainter. But still they come, closing up the gaps as they advance. Now, "Forward the infantry," rings along our lines, and as the line of blue issues from the woods, it pours in a deadly volley, and, advancing rapidly, continues the fire. The line of gray reels, staggers, hesitates, and, terribly thinned, gives way before the advancing blue. They are swept over and into their first line of defenses. The starry flag of the 116th Ohio is seen for a short time waving on their parapet; but orders are given to withdraw, and, leaving a strong line of skirmishers, our infantry retire to their former place.

It was a terrible hot brush; the charge on the part of the enemy was made with a sort of dare-devil recklessness, and our artillery, at almost point blank range, mowed them down fearfully, and when this fire was supplemented by that deadly volley from the advancing infantry, they must have been more than mere men to have stood up under it. Our loss was considerable, but that of the enemy must have been much greater. The fighting was obstinate and the battle well contested all along the lines, and on our left it was particularly severe. The contest lasted altogether two or three hours-in fact, heavy skirmishing continued till nearly dark and did not altogether cease till the darkness prevented the riflemen from taking accurate aim.

THE PRISONER'S LAMENT.

[Written by a member of the 5th Ind. Cav., who died one month afterwards at Andersonville, Ga.]

CHARGE OF THE STAR BRIGADE,

1st Brigade, 1st Division, 18th Corps,

AT COLD HARBOR.

THE MOST HEROIC AND BLOODY ACT OF THE WAR. June 3, 1864.

By W. P. DERBY, 27th Mass. Regiment.

GENERAL attack upon

the rebel lines at Cold Harbor had been ordered for 4 P. M., but a severe thunder-storm, accompanied by heavy wind, set in previous to that hour and continued into the night, so that the time of the assault was changed to 4.30 A. M. the following day.

At early light the Star Brigade quietly awoke, hastily partook of hard-tack and coffee, and at once moved a half mile to the left and front. A heavy artillery fire at this time opened along our whole line. The 27th Mass. Regt. now advanced as skirmishers, followed closely by the Star Brigade in mass by division, and, moving rapidly across an open field, entered a piece of timber and followed a ravine to a point near the edge of the woods. The orders from headquarters required no concert of action by the various corps.

21

THE ENEMY'S WORKS. The place assigned the 18th Corps to assault was an angle in the enemy's works, easterly and but a short distance from Gaines Mill. The hostile works consisted of substantial converging infantry parapets, with powerful profile skirting the crest of a low hill, which seemingly rose fifteen feet above the field before it. The apex of the angle was toward (321)