The enemy’s cavalry, under Kilpatrick, thinking retreat meant defeat,

pressed after Hampton, and his advance and Hampton’s rear soon became

engaged. Hampton continued his retreat until he reached within two miles

of Warrenton, when the trap he had prepared for Kilpatrick was sprung.

So eager was that officer to immortalize himself, and so confident was

he of success, that he never stopped to think of the danger that might

be lurking behind the range of hills on his left. Fitz Lee was there,

and when he thought to crush Hampton at a blow, and drive him into the

Rappahannock, the sound of a few cannon shots on his rear and left

suddenly put a new phase on affairs. With the sound of these guns,

Hampton ceased his retreat, and turned and charged, while at the same

moment Fitz Lee struck him in flank at Buckland. The fight which ensued

was short, bloody, and decisive, and Kilpatrick’s exultant pursuit was

converted into a precipitate rout, and his troopers scattered over the

country in all directions.

During this fight, the First Maryland fought on foot, but when the rout

commenced, they mounted and pursued to near Gainsville, where the enemy

met his infantry. It was now dark, and Colonel Brown could not see what

was in his front; but halting a moment to rectify his line, he gave the

command to charge, when both cavalry and infantry broke and fled in the

utmost confusion. Many were killed, wounded, and captured; and Brown,

now aware that he was in the presence of Meade’s army, withdrew to

Buckland, where was assembled the commands of Hampton and Lee, and where

they congratulated each other on the signal victory they had achieved

over the bully and blackguard leader of the “Buckland racers.”

After this affair, Mr. Kilpatrick’s thirst for glory perceptibly

subsided, and the Confederate army marched peacefully and

uninterruptedly to the vicinity of its old line on the Rappahannock.

Nothing of moment occurred here beyond the usual picket duty, until the

First Maryland was ordered to join Colonel Bradley T. Johnson at Hanover

Junction, where that officer had been ordered to assemble the Maryland

Line, and picket along Lee’s line of communication with Richmond.

Before the separation, division and brigade orders were issued and read

at the head of the regiment, highly complimentary to the gallant little

command; and I will here state, that it was the fate of the First

Maryland to serve, at different times during the war, with many of the

divisions and brigades of the cavalry corps, and the fact can be

referred to with pride, that no General with whom it served suffered it

to pass to another command without publicly complimenting them in

general orders.

CHAPTER V.

The battalion reached Hanover Junction the last of November, when

Colonel Johnson established his picket lines, and prepared to go into

winter quarters.

The winter was spent most delightfully, and nothing occurred to disturb

its pleasures save an attempted raid made by Butler to Bottom’s bridge,

whereupon the cavalry and artillery were promptly moved upon his flank

to Tunstall’s station, when he retired.

About the first of March, 1864, Colonel Johnson received a telegram from

General Lee, saying that a large body of cavalry had passed his flank,

and was moving in the direction of the Junction. That officer

immediately sent out his scouts to the north and west, and soon

discovered that it was a heavy column, indeed, and moving southwest. It

crossed the Virginia Central railroad at Frederick’s Hall, on Johnson’s

left, and took the road which led direct to Richmond.

Of course he at once saw that the object of the enemy was an attack upon

that city, believing that there were but few troops to oppose him.

Colonel Johnson immediately ordered his pickets to destroy the boats on

the Pamunky, to cut off his retreat in that direction, and with sixty

men of the First Maryland cavalry, and two guns from the Baltimore Light

Artillery—the only disposable force he had left after sending out his

scouts to watch the enemy’s movements—he followed in pursuit. Just

outside of Taylorsville, the enemy’s pickets were encountered and driven

in, and pursued to Ashland. Here a large force was met on its way to

destroy the railroad and buildings there, and, after a sharp encounter,

the enemy retired.

Moving as rapidly as possible along the Telegraph road, Colonel Johnson

threw himself upon the enemy’s flank at Yellow Tavern, and posting his

men, commenced to capture small parties that came along. Among his

captures was a sergeant, with five men, who proved to be a bearer of

dispatches from Colonel Dahlgren to General Kilpatrick. Kilpatrick’s

guns were then thundering away at the outer defences of Richmond, and

Dahlgren’s dispatch informed him that he would attack at dusk that

evening on his road, and he looked for Kilpatrick to attack with vigor

on his (Kilpatrick’s) side of the city.

Seeing at once that he had destroyed the communication between the

co-operating forces, Colonel Johnson prepared to attack and harrass

Kilpatrick’s rear. Taking care not to expose the number of his force, he

attacked a picket in the rear of the centre of the line of battle drawn

up in front of Richmond, and drove it in. This bold act conveyed the

impression to Kilpatrick that he was cut off, and seriously in danger in

his rear. Hastily mounting his troops, he moved at the trot down the

Peninsula towards the Pamunky, and crossing the Chickahominy, before

dark, at Meadow bridge, he went into camp. Colonel Johnson encamped on

the opposite side. During the night, Hampton came upon the enemy, with

the First and Second North Carolina, and broke up his camp, capturing

several hundred prisoners and horses.

At daylight in the morning, Colonel Johnson crossed his small force over

the river, and came up with Kilpatrick’s rear guard, near Old Church,

which was immediately attacked, and several prisoners captured. Still

taking every precaution not to expose to the enemy the smallness of his

force, he continued to harrass him, and drove his rear guard through Old

Church in confusion. Here, thinking himself seriously menaced,

Kilpatrick formed line of battle. It seemed really ridiculous—three

thousand men and four pieces of artillery in battle array to fight sixty

men. Moving a regiment to the rear, he compelled Colonel Johnson to fall

back half a mile, but as soon as this returned to the main body, he

again renewed his attacks upon the unhappy rear guard.

In this way they moved down the Peninsula some distance, when a scout

informed Colonel Johnson that a column of the enemy was moving down the

road, immediately in his rear. He was thus between two forces.

Dismounting his men as rapidly as possible, and deploying them in the

woods, on each side of the road, he awaited their approach. Upon

perceiving him, they made a charge, and went through his line, not,

however, without losing forty-five men and horses.

This proved to be a remnant of Dahlgren’s marauders, four hundred

strong, ladened with plunder. Among the many articles of value

recaptured from them was a silver dish cover, belonging to Mrs. Morson,

of Goochland.

From their statement, it appeared that Dahlgren, not receiving an answer

to the dispatch sent to Kilpatrick, and which was fortunately

intercepted by Colonel Johnson, as already seen, started with a hundred

men to find him, but failed to get across the Pamunky at Dabney’s ferry,

owing to the destruction of the boats, as has been stated, and in his

endeavors to escape through King and Queen county, was ambuscaded in the

night, and he himself killed by a mere boy, and his whole command

captured by the home guard.

Kilpatrick finding the expedition a failure, and believing himself

pressed by a superior force, although but sixty sabres were at his

heels, made for the lower ferries of the Pamunky, but failed to cross,

for the same reason Dahlgren had, and finally reached Tunstall’s

Station, and joined the forces under Butler, having been followed the

whole way by the Maryland Battalion.

For this gallant exploit, General Elzey, in command of the defences of

Richmond, issued a general order complimenting the command, and General

Wade Hampton, in his report to General Lee, distinctly gave the credit

of saving Richmond to the little battalion; for, by destroying the

combination between Dahlgren and Kilpatrick, they prevented the joint

attack on the city, and by the vigorous and incessant harrassing of the

latter’s rear, conveyed the impression that he was attacked in force, at

once changing his movements into a retreat, (deserting his subordinate

Dahlgren,) and converting the attacks of Johnson into a pursuit.

Thus the devilish scheme originated by the wretched Dahlgren to get

possession of the Confederate Capital, was frustrated. I say devilish,

for upon his inanimate body was found papers that will cover his name

forever with infamy. Although not the senior officer, he had command of

the expedition, and these papers prove that it was his purpose to murder

President Davis and the members of his cabinet, destroy the city, and

give its women up to the lusts of his brutal soldiers. But, to thwart

his hellish designs, God interposed a little band of brave men, and the

city was not only saved, but the hirelings of Yankeedom scattered to the

four winds, and its leader’s career brought to an ignominious end, by a

bullet from the gun of a mere boy. It is indeed hard to conceive how a

heart so young should have been so steeped in wickedness; but his own

history, written by his own hand just before the wrath of an offended

God overtook him, cannot be denied.

It is a little singular that this man should have lost his leg, in the

streets of Hagerstown, at the hands of one of the officers of the very

command that baulked him in his wholesale attempt at murder, arson and

outrage.

For the services rendered upon this occasion Colonel Johnson won his

rank as Brigadier General, which had been so long denied him by the

Confederate Congress, although urged upon them months before by General

Jackson, who had kept a vacancy in the Third Brigade open for him, and

had refused to assign the command to any one else. This body of wise men

contended that Maryland had its share of general officers, and could

have no more, no matter how great the merit or ability the applicant

might present for their august consideration. No, these important

positions must be parcelled out as a fisherwoman does her stock in

trade, and old and superannuated political hulks who aspired to a

command were to be served first. So it was with the gallant Colonel

Edwin Willis, of Georgia, who was killed at Cold Harbor. This young man,

with a thorough military education, and one of the most brilliant and

comprehensive minds in the South, and whose promotion had been more than

once urged, was compelled to act in a subordinate capacity because

Toombs and Cobb and other useless political generals stood in his way.

CHAPTER VI.

On the 9th of May, 1864, Sheridan began his raid around Richmond.

Colonel Johnson, had gone on a scout towards Yorktown, and left Colonel

Brown in camp in command of parts of four companies. On the afternoon of

that day Colonel Brown received information that a portion of the

enemy’s cavalry were raiding in the rear of Lee’s army, and had cut the

railroad and destroyed the cars and provisions accumulated at some point

above Hanover Court House. He immediately assembled his little command

of one hundred and fifty sabres, and set out to ascertain the truth of

the report. Shortly after passing Hanover Junction the gleam of camp

fires in the distance, (it was just after dark,) along the line of

railway in his front, seemed to confirm the rumor. The battalion pushed

on at a trot, taking the usual precaution to throw out an advance guard

and flankers, and about 11 o’clock, P. M., arrived at a point about a

mile from Beaver Dam, when it became evident that they were in close

proximity to a large force that was taking no pains to conceal their

presence. The battalion was halted, and Colonel Brown himself dismounted

and went ahead on foot to reconnoitre. He found the enemy in great glee,

laughing and shouting at the top of their voices, whilst at the same

time they were busily engaged in burning railroad ties, and generally

seemed to feel the existence of an enemy to be an absurdity. So close

did Colonel Brown get to them, that he came near surprising a party in a

cut, and from where he could see, by the light of the burning

cross-ties, for a mile or two along the road, whilst he was invisible to

the enemy. After having taken a good view, he quietly returned to his

command, which had been silently awaiting him, and dismounting all the

men that could be spared, amounting to some eighty or ninety, he

advanced on the railroad. Silently the little band crept on, carbine

advanced, and ready to begin the work of death at an instant’s warning.

Not a word was spoken; and the men held their breaths in anxious

expectation, until right upon the bank of the railroad, when a whispered

exclamation announced that the enemy had gone. Not far, though; for they

could be plainly heard a short distance up the road. The skirmish party

was then formed in column, and moved by the left towards the county

road, not a hundred yards distant, with the intention to again deploy

and advance until the enemy was found. Not half the column had crossed

the fence which bounded the road, when there was a challenge and shot,

almost simultaneous, followed by a volley from both sides. In the

darkness, blinded by the fires the enemy had lighted, the head of the

column had come suddenly upon a Yankee picket, at a point which Colonel

Brown, not an half hour before, had found entirely unguarded; but during

his absence they had finished their work and gone to bed, posting

pickets, in the meantime, from habit more than anything else, as the

picket was only a few yards from the main body, which appeared to be

resting in a continuous line along and on both sides of the road.

Colonel Brown deployed at once, and advanced rapidly, the whole line

keeping up a vigorous fire, which was made more effectual, because,

while being in the shadow themselves, the confused enemy was distinctly

visible by the light of the fires they had built. This could be plainly

seen, as in driving the Yankees back they passed over the ground which

had been held by them, and found many dead and wounded men and horses.

Still pressing the enemy back, Brown came to a skirt of woods, about

half a mile from the point where he first met them, when a cavalry

charge was made upon his thin line, which, however, was handsomely

repulsed, and the enemy driven back in confusion. Passing through this

woods, he found them posted in great strength on both sides of the road,

in open fields, awaiting his attack. Upon observing this, Colonel Brown

slowly withdrew his command unmolested.

He now ascertained, from evidence before him, and from prisoners taken,

that instead of fighting, as he supposed, a small raiding party, he had

engaged the advance of Sheridan’s army of thirteen thousand men.

Mounting his men, he held his ground until daylight, when a dispatch was

received from General J. E. B. Stuart, directing Colonel Brown to

harrass and delay the enemy as long as possible, as he was in pursuit.

Accordingly, he at once advanced upon the enemy’s pickets and drove them

back, when they were reinforced, but again driven back several times in

succession, until Sheridan pushed forward heavy reinforcements, when

Colonel Brown deemed it advisable to retire a short distance, the enemy

manifesting no disposition to pursue. Thus for some time the opposing

forces watched each other in silence, when Brown moved his men some

distance to the rear to feed the horses, but leaving a force of twenty

men, under command of Lieutenant C. Irving Ditty, to observe their

movements.

But a few moments elapsed before the enemy became restive, and could be

seen forming a strong column in the road, with heavy masses on each side

of it, and clouds of mounted and dismounted skirmishers taking position

in front. The fact was at once communicated to Colonel Brown. A bugle

sound now announced the enemy’s approach, and the heavy columns moved

forward in imposing array upon Ditty’s little force of twenty men. At

this instant Brown came up at a gallop, and a spirited fight ensued. A

dozen times did the column of mounted men attack, but a dozen times they

were foiled and driven back in confusion, until the dismounted men moved

through the woods on Brown’s flank, and compelled him to retire; and at

last, about midday, they forced him back beyond the woods into the clear

country, where Sheridan could see the insignificant force that had for

so many precious hours kept his army in check. Then, and not until then,

could his cavalry be brought to a charge, which the First Maryland, from

its better knowledge of the country, easily avoided, not, however,

without a parting volley, which emptied several saddles, two riderless

horses running into their ranks.

The battalion then hurried on rapidly to Hanover Junction, whither it

was supposed Sheridan was moving, where they united with the Second

Maryland Infantry and Baltimore Light Artillery, when all prepared to

give a good account of themselves should the enemy make his appearance.

It was but a little band of brave men opposing an immense army, and

their destruction seemed inevitable, for General Lee had dispatched them

to hold the point to the last, and that he had no reinforcements to give

them. Quietly, as they stood in line of battle, they discussed the

matter, and determined that the Maryland Line of ’64 should reflect no

disgrace upon their hereditary name. But they were saved the sacrifice,

for Sheridan, passing six or eight miles in their rear, marched directly

upon Richmond.

In this affair at Beaver Dam, Captain A. H. Schwartz, of Company F, and

Lieutenant J. A. V. Pue, of Company A, were painfully but not

dangerously wounded, almost by the first fire. During the lull of

hostilities, and before daylight, they were removed to the house of Mr.

Redd, a kind Virginia gentleman, living about five miles from the scene

of conflict. Here they were kindly cared for and rapidly improved, when

General Lee fell back in the direction of Richmond, and they were left

in the enemy’s lines, who immediately sent a force of two hundred

cavalry to capture them. Upon an examination of their condition by the

surgeon with the party, he declared it his belief that they would die if

removed; but the officer in command, who seemed really ashamed of his

brutal mission, said those were his orders, and he must obey them.

However, he at last yielded to the entreaties of the ladies of the

family, and reported the facts to General Gibbons, who, like the brute

he is, gave _imperative_ orders for their removal. This was done, and

the two poor, suffering men were placed in an ambulance and started off,

the guard stealing the covering thrown over them by the ladies of Mr.

Redd’s family, before they had gone five miles. Being taken across the

country to Fredericksburg, they were there placed on board a transport

and conveyed to a Washington hospital, where, soon after their arrival,

the gallant, whole-souled Captain Schwartz died, in great agony, and

Lieutenant Pue suffered months of excruciating pain.

This is but another instance of the many thousands of Yankee brutality

to Confederate prisoners, and yet these people prate continually about

Confederate cruelty to prisoners of war.

On the day after the fight at Beaver Dam, General J. E. B. Stuart came

up, and ordered Colonel Johnson to watch General Lee’s flank with the

First Maryland cavalry, whilst he with twenty-five hundred horse threw

himself between Sheridan and Richmond.

Stuart met the enemy at Yellow Tavern, and after one of the most

dreadful cavalry combats of the war, he saved the capital, but lost his

life.

In the latter part of May, Lee’s army fell back before Grant, and made

Hanover Junction a point of defence. Sending for Colonel Johnson, he

directed him to take Brown’s battalion and pass around Grant and see

what he was doing, and especially his base of supplies. The little

Command crossed the North Anna, below Lee’s right, and pursued its way

around to Penola Station, on the Fredericksburg railroad, where Johnson

discovered a heavy column moving down from Bowling Green, and at the

same time ascertained that the enemy drew his supplies from

Tappahannock. Turning to retrace his steps, he found the whole of

Sheridan’s cavalry moving up through King William, in his rear, and all

the fords on the lower Anna in his possession. This compelled him to

cross higher up, which was effected by throwing the horses into the

stream from a high bank, whilst the men crossed on a raft hastily

constructed. He finally reached the main body in safety, having captured

several couriers, from whom it was ascertained that Sheridan was coming

up and Burnside moving down from Bowling Green.

On the 27th of May, Colonel Johnson was ordered to report with his

cavalry to General Fitzhugh Lee, who was then at Hanover Court House. A

short time after his arrival, the enemy crossed at Dabney’s Ferry, when

by order of General Lomax he was directed to go down and drive them

back. Upon his arrival, he found Colonel Baker, of the Fifth North

Carolina, in command of Gordon’s old brigade, skirmishing with a force

not far from the Ferry. Believing it to be a small body, it was arranged

that Baker should hold them where they were, whilst Johnson passed

around to their flank, by which movement it was hoped they would capture

the whole of them. Taking a side road, he had not gone more than a mile

before he encountered Baker’s pickets retiring in good order, followed

by the enemy. Before he could deploy his men on some open ground on the

side of the road, they were upon him in overwhelming force. The greater

part of the battalion had unfortunately just passed through a gate into

a field when the enemy attacked. A dreadful hand to hand fight ensued,

and before the gate could be reopened for them to retreat, many were

killed and wounded, among the latter the brave Brown, by several sabre

cuts over the head. Being at length extricated from this dilemma, the

command was drawn up on more favorable ground, and a determined stand

made for thirty minutes. But it was soon perceived that the enemy were

wrapping around the little battalion and threatening it with

destruction, and the order was given to retreat. This was conducted for

a time in an orderly manner, but the enemy pressing them hard, a rout

ensued, in which every man was expected to look out for himself.

The battalion lost in this unfortunate affair between fifty and sixty

men in killed, wounded, and prisoners. Colonel Johnson and Lieutenant

Colonel Brown made narrow escapes, the former having his horse killed

and his sabre shot away, whilst the latter received several severe cuts

over the head. If unfortunate for the Maryland battalion, however, it

was fortunate for Baker, whose brigade of North Carolinians would most

assuredly have been cut to pieces had the enemy not been held in check

for a full half hour, thereby enabling them to escape. The force

encountered turned out to be Custer’s brigade of four thousand men,

supported by the rest of Merritt’s division of cavalry.

Among the officers captured at the fight at Pollard’s Farm, as it is

called, was First Lieutenant George Howard, of company C, the

particulars of which are too good to be lost, although it does seem near

akin to profanity to laugh when so many were made to weep.

It appears that the Lieutenant, who could never be induced to don a

uniform or ride a fast horse, finding himself hard pressed in the

general rout, quietly dropped off unperceived, and concealed himself in

a strip of woods that skirted the roadside. The pursuers passed by

without observing him, and he began to congratulate himself upon his

narrow escape, when unfortunately two or three straggling troopers

stumbled upon his place of concealment. It was instantly suggested to

him to pass himself off as a farmer of the neighborhood, and his

appearance and dress indicated as much. To an inquiry of one of the

Yankee soldiers as to “what he was doing there?” he replied that “a

fight had taken place on his farm between their fellows and some Rebs,

and he had sought the woods for safety.”

The party believed it, and in company they rode down to the scene of

conflict, when the first object that met his gaze was one of his own men

sitting in a fence corner, severely wounded. Forgetting himself, and the

enemy with him, and yielding to the impulses of his generous nature, he

threw himself from his horse, and advancing to the side of the suffering

man called him by name, and inquired if he was much hurt.

“Pretty badly, _Lieutenant_,” was the reply, and the next minute he

found himself seized, and a prisoner in the hands of his late

companions.

“Lieutenant, ah!” exclaimed one of them, in utter amazement, and

glancing first at rider and then at horse, “_well, I must say that some

of you Reb officers do beat the devil on a make-up_!”

CHAPTER VII.

For the next few days the battalion was engaged in skirmishing about

Hanover Court House, the enemy occupying them there whilst his columns

were crossing at Dabney’s Ferry, and pressing on towards Richmond.

On the 1st of June, the enemy moved on the South Anna bridges, Johnson’s

small command of one hundred and fifty sabres and Griffith’s battery

contesting every foot of ground, in a fight from daylight until two

o’clock in the afternoon, when they were driven back by a brigade of the

enemy’s cavalry.

It now becomes my painful duty to record the death of one of the best

and purest of men, Lieutenant Colonel Ridgely Brown, who in the day’s

fight was struck in the head by a stray ball and instantly killed. The

death of this good and generous man was a sad blow to his little

command, by whom he was almost idolized, and Johnson lost an officer who

had been invaluable to him, for to his sound judgment and advice he was

much indebted for his success in the affair with Kilpatrick.

In a General Order issued on the 6th of June, Colonel Johnson thus

speaks of his death:

HEADQUARTERS MARYLAND LINE, }

June 6, 1864. }

GENERAL ORDER NO. 26.

Lieutenant Colonel Ridgely Brown, commanding First Maryland cavalry,

fell in battle on the 1st instant, near the South Anna. He died, as

a soldier prefers to die, leading his men in a victorious charge. As

an officer, kind and careful; as a soldier, brave and true; as a

gentleman, chivalrous; as a Christian, gentle and modest; no one in

the Confederate army surpassed him in the hold he had on the hearts

of his men, and the place in the esteem of his superiors. Of the

rich blood that Maryland has lavished on every battle field, none is

more precious than this, and that of our other brave comrades in

arms who fell during the four days previous on the hill sides of

Hanover. His command has lost a friend most steadfast, but his

commanding officer is deprived of an assistant invaluable. To the

first he was ever as careful as a father; to the latter as true as a

brother.

In token of respect to his memory, the colors of the different

regiments of this command will be draped, and the officers wear the

usual badge of military mourning for thirty days.

By order of Colonel Bradley T. Johnson.

GEO. W. BOOTH, A. A. G.

A correspondent in the Richmond _Sentinel_, who signs himself “A

Virginian,” pays the following handsome tribute to his memory:

Of the many brave and noble men who have fought the invaders of

Southern soil, and have died in defence of Southern homes and

Southern rights, none deserve a higher tribute of praise, or a

larger measure of thanks from the Southern people than Colonel

Brown. A native of Montgomery county, Maryland, and a citizen of

that State, at the commencement of the present war, it would have

been but natural for him to have taken the passive attitude which

was assumed by his State, where he would now in all probability be

gladdening by his presence a large circle of relatives and friends,

instead of throwing dark shadows around their hearts from his lowly

grave in Virginia. But like many other noble sons of Maryland, he

left his quiet and secure home to give his services to the Southern

Confederacy, threatened with subjugation, and even extermination. He

labored day and night in its service, and has poured out his life’s

blood upon its altar.

He came to Virginia on the first day of June, 1861, and was mortally

wounded on the first day of June, 1864, just three years after. He

entered the army in the capacity of a private. In less than a year

he was raised to the position of a lieutenant; he soon reached the

rank of captain, and was then promoted to a lieutenant colonelcy. To

each of those positions he was lifted by merit alone, and would

probably have soon reached much higher rank, had not envious death

closed his career.

Never was there an officer more beloved by his command, and never

was there one who more deserved it. As brave as a lion in time of

danger, he was as careful of his men as a mother of her children.

His men say that when thrown upon his own responsibility he never

led them into a position of peril without first examining it

himself; nor ordered them to go where he was not ready to lead; and

they felt perfectly secure under his leadership. After his promotion

to the command of a regiment of cavalry, it was remarked that he was

much more silent than before. A friend asked him the reason. He

replied that so many lives committed to his charge involved a

responsibility which pressed heavily upon him.

He was a Christian man, and death has been his gain. The loss is all

to those who remain behind—to his parents, who have lost a devoted

son; to his acquaintances, who have lost one of friendship’s

greatest treasures; to the Confederacy, which has lost one of its

most valuable defenders. But more than this—morality has lost one of

its best examplars, and chivalry one of her noblest sons. His

influence for good in his command, who can supply?

Many soldiers and many citizens will mingle their tears on his

grave, to water the flowers which friendship and affection will

plant there; and when flowers shall wither, his memory will continue

to bloom in many hearts.

A VIRGINIAN.

Hampton having been assigned to the command of the cavalry, in the place

of Stuart, he on the 12th of June, with four thousand five hundred

sabres, met Sheridan at Trevillian’s Station with thirteen thousand. The

First Maryland was posted on Hampton’s extreme left to support General

Rosser. The first charge of the enemy was made by the dashing Custer, at

the head of his brigade, and he went through Hampton’s centre, creating

terrible confusion among the led horses and ordnance wagons; but the

daring and intrepid Rosser was in his way, and charging him in turn with

his brigade and the First Maryland, he cut him in two, and pursued him

to his very wagon train, capturing his private papers, and effectually

breaking up his brigade. This charge of Rosser’s is pronounced one of

the most brilliant of the many made during the war.

The battle of Trevillian’s lasted two days, and was the hardest cavalry

fight of the war, and although Hampton fought great odds, Sheridan

suffered a terrible defeat. During these two days, the Maryland

battalion was in the thickest of the fight, and fought as though to

avenge their comrades who had fallen at Pollard’s Farm. And they were

avenged, for in that bloody struggle many a Federal soldier felt the

weight of their sabres or fell at the crack of their unerring revolvers,

and two hundred prisoners and horses fell into their hands.

During the winter of ’63–4, Colonel Johnson originated a plan for

capturing President Lincoln, which he suggested to General Hampton, who,

after several conversations with Johnson upon the subject, gave it his

approval, and entered heartily into the undertaking.

The Confederate spies in Washington had kept General Lee thoroughly

posted as to the disposition and force of every command of the enemy in

and around his capital. To carry out this daring enterprise then,

Colonel Johnson was to take the Maryland battalion, numbering two

hundred and fifty sabres, and cross the Potomac above Georgetown, make a

dash at a battalion of cavalry known to be stationed there, and push on

to the Soldier’s Home, where it was well known Lincoln lived, and after

capturing him send him across the river in charge of a body of picked

men, whilst the main body was to cut the wires and roads between

Washington and Baltimore, and then move back through Western Maryland to

the Valley of Virginia; or if that means of retreat was cut off, Johnson

was to go up into Pennsylvania, and on west to West Virginia beyond

Grafton. It seemed, indeed, a most desperate undertaking, but everything

promised its successful accomplishment. Indeed, so sanguine was Hampton

that the plan of Johnson would succeed, that he wanted to undertake it

himself at the head of four thousand horse, and was only prevented by

Sheridan’s advance upon the Confederate capital.

After the fight at Trevillian’s, then, he gave Johnson orders to prepare

for the trip. The best horses in the cavalry command were selected, and

the best men in the battalion picked out, but whilst shoeing his horses

and recruiting his men in Goochland county, he was prevented from

carrying out his much cherished plans by an order from General Early to

join him at once with his battalion in the Valley, and cover his rear

whilst that General went after Hunter, who had marched upon Lynchburg.

In a week Early returned to Staunton, and it was then that Colonel

Johnson received his long delayed commission as Brigadier General of

cavalry, and was at once assigned to the command of the brigade formerly

commanded by W. E. Jones, who had been killed at the battle fought near

New Hope.

Much to his gratification he was given permission, on the 3d day of

July, to attach the First Maryland to his brigade, and then ordered to

take the advance of Early’s army, moving on Martinsburg. At Leetown the

brigade encountered Mulligan’s advance, and after a severe fight the

enemy was driven back with loss. In this affair the First Maryland

fought with its accustomed vim.

On the 5th of July General Johnson crossed the Potomac at Sharpsburg,

where he met a small force of the enemy’s cavalry, which Lieutenant

George M. E. Shearer, with a detachment of the First Maryland, pursued

into Hagerstown, where coming suddenly upon a superior force he was

compelled to retreat upon the main body.

In the pursuit which ensued Shearer was taken prisoner, along with

several of his men.

General Johnson now shaped his course in the direction of Frederick, in

the vicinity of which he awaited the arrival of Early, who overtook him

on the 8th.

On the 9th, General Early dispatched General Johnson on a secret service

by special order from General Lee. In this order he was directed to

destroy communication between Baltimore and the North, threaten

Baltimore, and break the railroad and cut the telegraph wires between

Baltimore and Washington, and thence move on Point Lookout so as to

attack on the morning of the 12th, when an attack was also to be made on

the sea side. After releasing the prisoners, some fifteen thousand, he

was to take command of them and rejoin Early at Bladensburg, whilst that

General was in the meantime to attack Washington and carry it by

assault.

Johnson moved his whole force to Cockeysville, and after destroying the

bridges there he detached the First Maryland and Gilmor’s battalion, the

two having been temporarily consolidated, and all under Colonel Gilmor’s

command, and directed that officer to burn the railroad bridges over the

Bush and Gunpowder rivers, which he did. Johnson then moved rapidly

around Baltimore, and at Beltsville found a force of about one thousand

of the enemy’s cavalry, which he charged and drove into Bladensburg,

after which he started for Point Lookout, but had not gone many miles

when he received an order from General Early to join him at once.

At Cockeysville Johnson had learned that the 19th corps of the enemy was

landing at Locust Point, of which fact he at once advised Early, and it

was this information which compelled the Confederate General to forego

the intended raid on Point Lookout, and which had reached him just as he

was about to assault Washington with his whole army.

In obedience to this order, General Johnson retraced his steps, and

joined Early next morning at Blair’s house.

Early now turned his back on the Yankee capital, and directed his steps

towards the Potomac, and crossed near Poolsville. In the retreat from

Maryland, General Johnson was ordered to protect his rear. At Rockville

he charged the enemy’s cavalry, and beat him, capturing eighty prisoners

and horses. At Poolsville he was vigorously attacked in force, but drove

his assailants back, and kept them in check until the whole army had

recrossed the river.

It will thus be seen that General Johnson’s brigade constituted the

advance guard in the invasion of Maryland, and the rear guard in the

retreat. The Maryland troops were placed at the head of the column in

the first and the rear in the latter; thus, from the 5th of July, the

day of crossing, to the 14th, the day of recrossing the Potomac, they

were almost constantly engaged, and always closest to the enemy.

CHAPTER VIII.

Soon after the return of the army under Early from Maryland, that

General determined to send McCausland on an expedition into

Pennsylvania, with his own and General Johnson’s brigades, for what

purpose will be seen by the following extract from his “Memoirs of the

Last Year of the War for Independence:”

“On the 26th of July, we moved to Martinsburg, the cavalry going to

the Potomac. The 27th and 28th were employed in destroying the

railroad, it having been repaired since we passed over it at the

beginning of the month. While at Martinsburg it was ascertained,

beyond all doubt, that Hunter had been again indulging in his

favorite mode of warfare, and that, after his return to the Valley,

while we were near Washington, among other outrages, the private

residences of Mr. Andrew Hunter, a member of the Virginia Senate,

Mr. Alexander R. Boteler, an ex-member of the Confederate Congress,

as well as of the United States Congress, and Edmund I. Lee, a

distant relative of General Lee, all in Jefferson county, with their

contents, had been burned by his orders, only time enough being

given for the ladies to get out of the houses. A number of towns in

the South, as well as private country houses, had been burned by the

Federal troops, and the accounts had been heralded forth in some of

the Northern papers in terms of exultation, and gloated over by

their readers, while they were received with apathy by others.

“I now came to the conclusion that we had stood this mode of warfare

long enough, and that it was time to open the eyes of the people of

the North to its enormity, by an example in the way of retaliation.

I did not select the cases mentioned, as having more merit or

greater claims for retaliation than others, but because they had

occurred within the limits of the country covered by my command, and

were brought more immediately to my attention.

“The town of Chambersburg, in Pennsylvania, was selected as the one

on which retaliation should be made, and McCausland was ordered to

proceed with his brigade and that of Johnson, and a battery of

artillery, to that place, and demand of the municipal authorities

the sum of $100,000 in gold, or $500,000 in United States currency,

as a compensation for the destruction of the houses named and their

contents, and, in default of payment, to lay the town in ashes, in

retaliation for the burning of those houses and others in Virginia,

as well as for the towns which had been burned in other Southern

States. A written demand to that effect was sent to the municipal

authorities, and they were informed what would be the result of a

failure or refusal to comply with it. I desired to give the people

of Chambersburg an opportunity of saving their town, by making

compensation for part of the injury done, and hoped that the payment

of such a sum would have the desired effect, and open the eyes of

the people of other towns at the North, to the necessity of urging

upon their government the adoption of a different policy. McCausland

was also directed to proceed from Chambersburg towards Cumberland,

Md., and levy contributions in money upon that and other towns able

to bear them, and if possible destroy the machinery at the coal pits

near Cumberland, and the machine shops, depots, and bridges on the

Baltimore and Ohio railroad, as far as practicable.

“On the 29th, McCausland crossed the Potomac, near Clear Spring,

above Williamsport, and I moved with Rhodes’ and Ramseur’s divisions

and Vaughan’s cavalry to the latter place, while Imboden

demonstrated with his and Jackson’s cavalry towards Harper’s Ferry,

in order to withdraw attention from McCausland. Breckinridge

remained at Martinsburg, and continued the destruction of the

railroad. Vaughan drove a force of cavalry from Williamsport, and

went into Hagerstown, where he captured and destroyed a train of

cars loaded with supplies. One of Rhodes’ brigades was crossed over

at Williamsport, and subsequently withdrawn.

“On the 30th, McCausland being well underway, I moved back to

Martinsburg; and on the 31st, the whole infantry force was moved to

Bunker Hill, where we remained on the 1st, 2d, and 3d of August.

“On the 4th, in order to enable McCausland to retire from

Pennsylvania and Maryland, and to keep Hunter, who had been

reinforced by the 6th and 19th corps, and had been oscillating

between Harper’s Ferry and Monocacy Junction, in a state of

uncertainty, I again moved to the Potomac, with the infantry and

Vaughan’s and Jackson’s cavalry, while Imboden demonstrated towards

Harper’s Ferry.

“On the 5th, Rhodes’ and Ramseur’s divisions crossed at

Williamsport, and took position near St. James’ College, and

Vaughan’s cavalry went into Hagerstown. Breckinridge, with his

command and Jackson’s cavalry, crossed at Shepherdstown, and took

position at Sharpsburg. This position is in full view from Maryland

Heights, and a cavalry force was sent out by the enemy to

reconnoitre, which after skirmishing with Jackson’s cavalry, was

driven off by the sharpshooters of Gordon’s division.

“On the 6th, the whole force recrossed the Potomac at Williamsport,

and moved towards Martinsburg; and on the 7th, we returned to Bunker

Hill.

“On the 30th of July, McCausland reached Chambersburg, and made the

demand as directed, reading to such of the authorities as presented

themselves the paper sent by me. The demand was not complied with,

the people stating that they were not afraid of having their town

burned, and that a Federal force was approaching. The policy pursued

by our army on former occasions had been so lenient, that they did

not suppose the threat was in earnest this time, and they hoped for

speedy relief. McCausland, however, proceeded to carry out his

orders, and the greater part of the town was laid in ashes.

“For this act I alone am responsible, as the officers engaged in it

were simply executing my orders, and had no discretion left them.

Notwithstanding the lapse of time which has occurred, and the result

of the war, I am perfectly satisfied with my conduct on this

occasion, and see no reason to regret it.

“McCausland then moved in the direction of Cumberland, but on

approaching that town, he found it defended by a force under Kelly,

too strong for him to attack, and he withdrew towards Hampshire

county, in Virginia, and crossed the Potomac near the mouth of the

South Branch, capturing the garrison at that place, and partially

destroying the railroad bridge. He then invested the post on the

railroad at New Creek, but finding it too strongly fortified to take

by assault, he moved to Moorefield, in Hardy county, near which

place he halted to rest and recruit his men and horses, as the

command was now considered safe from pursuit. Averill, however, had

been pursuing from Chambersburg with a body of cavalry, and

Johnson’s brigade was surprised in camp, before day, on the morning

of the 7th of August, and routed by Averill’s force. This resulted

also in the rout of McCausland’s brigade, and the loss of the

artillery, (four pieces,) and about three hundred prisoners from the

whole command. The balance of the command made its way to Mount

Jackson in great disorder, and much weakened. This affair had a very

damaging effect upon my cavalry for the rest of the campaign.”

McCausland had not the manliness to take the responsibility of this

surprise, which was brought about by his own neglect and incaution, but

sought to throw the blame upon Johnson, who demanded a court of inquiry,

but it was not allowed. McCausland was the commanding officer, and

Johnson his subordinate. He had selected the camp and posted his

pickets, and was of course bound to keep himself advised of the position

and propinquity of the enemy, and to advise his subordinate of danger.

He never did keep himself so informed; the only intimation he ever gave

was a mere verbal one by a courier, at two o’clock at night, that

Averill was at Romney, thirty miles off, the evening before, and to be

ready and saddle up by daylight. The order conveyed no intimation of

danger, and General McCausland had no such idea, for he slept three

miles away from his camp, and was absent when his command was attacked.

Soon after the Moorefield affair Early’s army moved to Fisher’s Hill,

when Gilmor (with whom the First Maryland was still serving) was ordered

to scout in his front. Shortly after Sheridan retreated to Winchester,

beyond which place Early pursued him. A series of severe encounters

ensued with the enemy’s cavalry in the vicinity of Winchester,

Martinsburg, Bunker Hill, Leetown and Charlestown, in which the First

Maryland took a prominent part, losing heavily.

One of the heaviest of these fights I will here speak of at length, as

it has been most strangely misrepresented by Colonel Gilmor in his “Four

Years in the Saddle.” The fight at Bunker Hill is the one alluded to,

where Colonel Gilmor says the First Maryland “refused to charge when

ordered by him.” The facts are these:

On the morning of the 13th of August, 1864, a brigade of Lomax’s command

(to which was attached the First Maryland and Gilmor’s cavalry, all

under command of Gilmor,) had advanced and driven in the enemy’s

pickets, and pushed back his cavalry several miles below Bunker Hill,

where they halted for a while and then turned to retrace their steps.

The enemy in the meanwhile had been heavily reinforced, and pressed hard

upon the retreating column, of which the First Maryland formed the rear.

The enemy became more and more pressing as they advanced, until a charge

was ordered by Colonel Gilmor, which had the effect of checking them,

and his vastly superior force only saved him from rout. These charges

had to be repeated again and again, the First Maryland retiring

excellent order at a walk. When the stream which crosses the pike at

Bunker Hill was reached, Gilmor, who had been much delayed, of course,

in making these charges, found himself entirely unsupported, all the

other regiments of the brigade having retired to the shelter of the

infantry, which was formed in line about a mile distant. At this

juncture the head of the enemy’s column, immediately in the rear of the

battalion, had entered the stream before the rear of the First Maryland

had reached the opposite bank, two other of his columns meanwhile moving

unopposed parallel to the pike, and were at least a mile in the rear of

the little band battling with ten times their number. At this most

critical period, right in the midst of the stream, the battalion wheeled

and again charged, meeting the enemy midway, when a most desperate hand

to hand fight ensued, the blood of both intermingling with its current.

For some minutes they held the enemy in check, expecting reinforcements,

but none were available, and under the desperate nature of the

circumstances General Lomax ordered a battery, near the line of battle

which the infantry was forming, to open on the struggling mass. The

artillery officer remonstrated, as he was satisfied he would damage

friend as well foe; but the order was repeated. The first few shots fell

in the ranks of the enemy, and rendered material aid to the handful of

heroes in such imminent peril, but unfortunately a shell at last struck

right in their midst, when, of course, the battalion broke. The fire of

a foe in front and a friend in rear was more than human nature could

withstand; but even then they did not leave the field, but retired,

stubbornly contesting every foot of ground, until they reached a house

standing in a field near the pike, and midway between Bunker Hill and

the infantry line, where some of the command formed on both sides, which

they were obliged to do to confront the now rapidly advancing enemy.

Here a stand was made, and the fight continued for sometime. On the side

of the house next the pike was the color bearer of the battalion,

Colonel Gilmor, Captain Ditty, Captain Raisin and some fifteen or twenty

officers and men, and it becoming evident that they could no longer hold

the enemy at bay, Colonel Gilmor turned to this handful and exclaimed,

“We’ll go at them again,” but had not moved five steps, the battalion at

his heels, before he dropped his pistol and wheeled around, the blood

streaming from his neck, and galloped off, saying as he did so, “I’m

killed.” Seeing the folly of remaining longer, the command retired upon

the infantry, which easily repulsed the enemy’s cavalry. This was the

last order to charge given that day, and most faithfully was it obeyed,

even by twenty against a thousand.

This is a correct statement of the matter, and it is much to be

regretted that Colonel Gilmor should be the only man who ever preferred

such a charge or cast a reflection upon the fair fame of the First

Maryland, every man of which was a hero of an hundred battles, and would

follow where any man dared to lead.

In this desperate fight I have to record the death of the gallant

Lieutenant Henry Blackiston, of company B, who fell while performing

prodigies of valor. Poor fellow, he was universally beloved, and his

death deeply regretted by his companions.

After this affair, great dissatisfaction was produced in the First

Maryland by an order of General Early’s consolidating the command, then

very much reduced, with Gilmor’s irregular cavalry, and placing the

whole under that officer. The entire battalion remonstrated against what

they conceived to be the injustice done them, and all the officers

tendered their resignations except one, and that one acted upon the

conviction that resignation was not the proper remedy of the wrong,

which he condemned as fully as any one. None of the resignations were

accepted, when the objection to the consolidation was urged at the

Department in Richmond so earnestly that the order was revoked, and the

command severed from the connection with Gilmor, and returned to its

original status.

Soon after Captain G. W. Dorsey was assigned to the command of the

battalion, with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, to fill the vacancy

occasioned by the death of the lamented Ridgely Brown. Major R. C.

Smith, who had been permanently disabled in the fight at Greenland Gap,

was retired, and the vacancy thus occasioned not afterwards filled.

After Colonel Dorsey’s accession to the command, the campaign was

constantly active, and the enemy being nearly as strong in cavalry alone

as General Early was in troops of all arms, his cavalry was compelled to

contend with great odds. Fights and skirmishes of a greater or less

magnitude were of daily and almost hourly occurrence, and with the

picket duty to be performed, men and horses were, employed to the utmost

limit of endurance. In most of these engagements the Confederates were

successful, but in one of them, at Fisher’s Hill, on the 22d of

September, the enemy gained considerable advantage by suddenly throwing

a heavy force, consisting of two or three divisions, which he had moved

up under cover of the North Mountains on Early’s left, upon the line of

dismounted cavalry, which was all that General could spare to cover that

point. Here, after they had broken the Confederate line, Colonel Dorsey

ordered the First Maryland to charge, with the view to check the enemy,

if possible, and gain time to bring up reinforcements, but it only

availed to release some prisoners and to get the horses of the

dismounted men out of the way. In the face of such odds, Dorsey was

forced back with some loss, and although severely wounded himself,

extricated his command, and made an orderly retreat.

CHAPTER IX.

The campaign of ’64 in the Valley of Virginia was marked by acts of

barbarism and savage cruelty on the part of the enemy, such as history

scarcely parallels; but certainly not in the annals of any nation making

the least pretense to civilization. In years past, the American heart

was wont to burn with righteous indignation at the recital of the wrongs

of Poland and Hungary; but then Russia and Austria were but in their

rudiments. It was reserved for the “best government the world ever saw”

to reduce barbarity to a science, to substitute the torch for the sword,

murder for honorable warfare, and to elevate the incendiary’s crime to

the dignity of national policy. Having failed to subdue the men of the

Southern Confederacy in the field, the soldiers of the Federal army,

with such vast odds in their favor, of numbers and resources, with the

whole world open to them, and contributing immensely both of men and

means—the Federal soldiers, with all these advantages, descended to make

mean war upon women and children and dumb brutes, seeking in the

sufferings of these helpless victims the victory elsewhere denied them,

and thus to strike their foe whom they dared not meet in fair conflict.

An official, high in rank in that army, and at this writing high in

position under that Government, wrote that the Valley should be so

devastated “that a crow flying over would be obliged to take its

rations.” And faithful and vigorous were the efforts made to carry out

that policy. The Vandals, whose name has become a synonym for ferocious

cruelty, were accustomed to spare the ungarnered crops not required for

their own maintenance; but by official orders from army headquarters,

Sheridan’s army in the Valley of Virginia obscured the light of day, and

illuminated the darkness of night, with the smoke and flames of the

conflagration that devoured alike the dwelling and the stable, the barn

and the mill, stored with hay and grain, and the yet ungathered crop

standing on the ground. Whole fields of corn were wantonly fired in the

shock, and in many instances horses and cattle in their stalls, and

swine in their pens, were heartlessly burned alive. For two weeks and

more did their fires fiercely burn, while the brave officers commanding

this corps of murderers and incendiaries made report of their noble

achievements, and the Yankee nation applauded. It was rebels, rebels

against this most beneficent Government, who suffered, and in their

pangs was offered a sacrifice holy and acceptable on the altar of

_Freedom_. Truly _Vandalism_ should be expunged from our vocabulary, and

_Yankeeism_ written instead.

General Hunter, whose chief monument was the smoke from the Virginia

Military Institute, and the private dwellings burned by his order, had

the honor of inaugurating this system of warfare in the Valley, which

was afterwards so fully adopted and elaborately carried out by the

Yankee Government.

All these brutal wrongs the First Maryland cavalry witnessed, and where

powerless to prevent, they did not forget to avenge where opportunity

offered.

Other wrongs they had to remember and avenge, such as their whole prior

experience had never before known—the cold-blooded murder of their

comrades.

In October, 1864, Churchill Crittenden and John Hartigan, privates of

company C, were detailed to procure provisions for their company, which

could only be obtained from the neighboring farm houses. The regiment

was lying then in Page county, and as the country between the two armies

had not been foraged so closely of its supplies, because of its being a

middle ground, these two men, so detailed, sought the required rations

between the two lines. Whilst getting their supplies at a farm house, a

large scouting party of the enemy came suddenly upon them. They

attempted to escape, and a running fight ensued, which resulted in the

death of two or three of the enemy and the wounding of Crittenden

severely, and the capture of both himself and Hartigan.

The prisoners were taken back two or three miles, and there by order of

General Powell, then commanding Averill’s old brigade, shot in cold

blood, denying them the poor privilege of writing to their friends,

though Hartigan, particularly, who had a young and lovely wife,

earnestly entreated with his last breath to be allowed to send her a

message.

These facts were all carefully traced out, and verified by the statement

of the citizen at whose house the two men were first attacked, and near

which they fought and were captured; by the statement of the citizen,

some two miles to the rear, near whose house they were buried, not by

the assassins, but by the pitying farmer; and by the evidence rendered

by the opened graves of the poor murdered men.

From that time, General Powell’s name was familiar to the ears and

memories of the First Maryland cavalry, and many were the vows there

uttered over the dead bodies of their comrades to avenge their death—and

they were fearfully avenged, though the chief assassin escaped.

In November, 1864, the battalion, now in General Davidson’s brigade of

Lomax’s division, crossed the mountain and camped near Washington, in

Rappahannock county, in order to obtain supplies, which were now

exceedingly scarce. For days at a time the only food was apples and

bread made of corn meal of such miserable quality as to be utterly

inedible except under pressure of the direst necessity. Coffee and sugar

had long before disappeared—so long that it was a real effort of memory

to recall their flavor—and the taste of meat was now a matter of rare

occurrence, and then often obtained by the capture of a bewildered

squirrel or rabbit, or the _accidental falling of a tree_ on some

luckless hog, which happened oftener than people would suppose or

believe who are unacquainted with the pertinacity with which that animal

will haunt a cavalry camp to steal from the horses, and at which they

have often been known to be killed by a _kick_. Apples were, however, in

abundance, and excellent, and assisted greatly in keeping up the

commissariat.

Supplies of all kinds, however, were exhausted in two or three weeks,

and the battalion moved back to the neighborhood of Madison Court House.

Here it remained until December, when General Davidson was relieved by

General Jackson, the former General having been only temporarily in

command during the absence, while wounded, of the latter, the proper

commander of the brigade.

At this time the enemy made a simultaneous advance upon Madison Court

House, Staunton and Charlottesville, at which latter place Custer’s

division of cavalry was fought by Brethod’s battery of horse artillery,

composed mainly of Maryland soldiers, without support of any kind; and

so bold and vigorous was their defence that Custer retired with loss,

under the impression that a large force confronted him. The column

advancing upon Madison Court House, consisting of two divisions, was

engaged and held in check nearly a day by Jackson’s brigade, the fight

having begun in the morning and lasted until 9 P. M. The battle was

closed by a charge of the First Maryland upon the left flank of the

enemy, which was most advanced. The charge was made less effective by

reason of the leading squadrons stumbling into a deep and wide ditch,

which, owing to the darkness, could not be seen until too late to

prevent the horses from falling. But although not damaging the enemy to

the extent hoped for, it had the effect to break and scatter his line in

confusion, and keep him quiet for the balance of the night.

After waiting for some time for further demonstrations from the enemy,

and there being none, General Jackson quietly withdrew his brigade a few

miles, and the men lay down in the snow, which covered the ground to the

depth of ten inches, to get a little rest. In the meantime General

Lomax, who had been notified in the beginning of the enemy’s advance,

was assembling at Liberty Mills his different brigades, which had

necessarily been scattered in order to subsist. By daylight General

Jackson was moving to that point, where, after partaking of some food,

the troops were directed to throw up rude breastworks, which was done by

piling fence rails along the banks of the stream. This had scarcely been

accomplished when the enemy made his appearance and deployed most

beautifully on the opposite hills, when a brisk skirmish began, which

continued all day and until night, when the exhausted troops were

ordered to unsaddle and seek some rest, but they had barely dismounted

when a courier dashed up and reported that the enemy had crossed the

stream, and that they were to be charged at once. In an instant the

gallant troopers sprang to their horses, and Jackson’s brigade dashed at

the enemy’s advance. For some time the ground was stubbornly contested,

when Jackson’s column to the right and left of the First Maryland broke,

which compelled the whole to fall back. They were quickly rallied,

however, when a desperate charge was made, and the enemy in turn

compelled to retire. Lomax then withdrew his division to Gordonsville,

where it rested that night, and at daylight it was again drawn up in

line of battle to meet the enemy, who had made his appearance. A sharp

but brief conflict ensued, in which the enemy was repulsed, when he

withdrew, and finally retired by the road he came to Winchester.

CHAPTER X.

After this affair the brigade of Jackson retired to within twelve or

fifteen miles of Orange Court House, where it remained until about the

first of March, when Sheridan moved down the Valley in heavy force, and

captured the little that remained of Early’s command near Waynesboro’.

The First Maryland was ordered to hang upon his flank, which it did with

great tenacity, first striking him on James river, beyond

Charlottesville, and following him to the White House, on York river. So

small a force could accomplish nothing by a direct attack, and it

therefore confined its operations to cutting off scouting and marauding

parties, which amounted in the aggregate to more than their own number

three times over.

The battalion rested for some days near Richmond after it had returned

from following Sheridan, when it was ordered to join Lomax in West

Virginia. It accordingly marched to join that officer, and when about

two days advanced on the journey, was ordered back with all speed to

report to General Fitz. Lee at Stony creek, twenty miles from

Petersburg.

Reaching Richmond on the evening of April 2d, 1865, it went into camp on

its suburbs. Early next morning (Sunday) the battalion moved through the

city, and had the pleasure of greeting many of their comrades, prisoners

on parole, awaiting exchange. The day had nothing of Sabbath quiet,

churches were unattended, and the streets filled with anxious crowds of

soldiers and citizens eagerly seeking and discussing the army news.

Already many painful rumors were rife betokening disaster, but

resolutely refusing to doubt the success of the cause in which their

very souls were embarked, the little band of Marylanders—now reduced to

less than one hundred in the saddle—pushed on, followed by the regrets

and blessings of their paroled brothers, whose obligations forbade them,

as yet, to take part in the stirring events then occurring. As the lines

at Petersburg were approached, it was inexpressibly cheering to see

everything calm, and the army apparently as confident and defiant as

ever.

It was well known that the odds against General Lee were immense, but

all Confederate victories had been won against such advantages, and an

abiding faith in the justice of their cause, and genius of their great

chief, kept up the spirits of Colonel Dorsey’s command in spite of all

drawbacks. When, therefore, bodies of troops of greater or less force

were seen in motion, on or near the Petersburg road, in perfect order,

and advancing towards the sound of the firing, which had all day been

heard in their front, the Maryland soldiers took these facts as perfect

confirmation of their pre-entertained opinion that all the news which

had given rise to such distressing rumors were, instead of a retreat of

the Army of Northern Virginia, only a strategic device on the part of

General Lee to bring Grant out from behind his breastworks in order to

attack and destroy him. Nor was this idea weakened at all when, after

reaching Petersburg about dark, they found everything prepared for

motion, and heard that General Lee’s lines had been broken. The heavy

batteries in front were in full action, and it naturally seemed that so

much firing must indicate stout resistance.

Failing to find any order from General Fitz. Lee at this point, who had

before this left Stony creek for some point to him unknown, Colonel

Dorsey availed himself of such shelter as the ground afforded to rest

and feed man and horse, and to await information or orders. Here there

was abundance of food and forage, for which there was not

transportation, and orders had been issued for its destruction. Colonel

Dorsey was therefore permitted to take as much of both for his command

as could be carried, which was not much, as the horses were too weak, on

account of long marches and insufficient food, to bear any considerable

increase of burden. Horses and men, however, had one full meal, and it

being the soldier’s philosophy to let each day take care of itself, all

were soon stretched upon the ground to catch such repose as might be

vouchsafed them.

The enemy’s fire seemed to increase in violence, and shot and shell soon

began to pass over the encampment, and far in its rear, but did no

damage, as the intervening hill gave full protection. In this situation,

heedless of all the noises, exhausted nature demanded rest, and the

First Maryland slept.

A couple of hours passed, when the command was aroused, saddled up, and

prepared to move, Colonel Dorsey having at last received orders to

follow in the rear of Mahone’s division, which formed the rear of the

Confederate army. This division had not yet come up, and while awaiting

its appearance, the command looked on and grieved over the destruction

of ordnance and quartermaster’s stores, which were now being fired in

every direction to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy.

These fires had evidently aroused the enemy into increased action, and

his batteries were now in a constant blaze, while the explosion of his

shells and the Confederate ammunition wagons made the night hideous with

war’s most infernal din. Fortunately the enemy directed his guns at the

fires, and as everybody kept away from them, no damage was done.

The battalion was drawn up along the roadside waiting to march, and

coaxing their horses to eat as much oats as possible. Near by was a

train of cars loaded with ammunition, and word was passed to look out,

as it was about to be set on fire. For a while every man stood to horse,

but the explosion not ensuing as soon as expected, attention was called

off, and the caution forgotten. Bridles were let go, and some of the men

walked towards the quartermaster’s stores, near the ammunition train, to

make further selections. Suddenly a tremendous shock was felt, which

threw many to the ground, whilst the horses reared and plunged and broke

from their riders, and for a time all was the wildest confusion. When

matters had become a little calm, two men belonging to the

quartermaster’s department were found dead, and twenty horses of the

First Maryland had run off at full speed towards Richmond, though

fortunately none of the men were hurt beyond a few bruises. The runaway

horses must have been terribly frightened, for in their poor condition

they ran twenty miles without halting, and only thirteen of the twenty

were recovered; thus the battalion lost the services of seven men, who

being dismounted, had to remain with the wagons. The explosion took

place two hundred yards distant, but the force was great enough to knock

down those nearest to it, and greatly shock the others.

Soon after this occurrence, Mahone’s division came up at the quickstep,

and in fine order and spirits, which cheered the hearts of the little

cavalry band beyond expression. Day had dawned before the rear passed,

and just at that time, in the grey light of morning, was seen a

brilliant flash, and for a few moments the earth trembled under foot,

and a tremendous explosion plainly told that the fortifications at

Drury’s Bluff were no more. In ten minutes another flash, shock and

explosion ensued, and the Confederate gunboats on the James had shared

the fate of the batteries on shore. Other similar explosions followed as

smaller magazines were destroyed, filling the whole atmosphere with

sulphurous smoke, while the flames licked the sky from many a

conflagration, and it was with sad hearts that the little battalion

turned and followed in the footsteps of the infantry. Thus commenced the

retreat that ended in the surrender of the army of Northern Virginia.

The roads were muddy and wretchedly cut up by the passage of the

artillery and heavy wagons, and the army, though in constant motion,

made slow progress. By the next afternoon, Monday 3d of April, Amelia

Court House was reached, where the enemy made a slight demonstration,

but did not seriously attack. Early on the morning of the 4th Colonel

Dorsey ascertaining the whereabouts of General Fitz. Lee, joined his

division, in pursuance of his original order, and was assigned to

Payne’s brigade.

Before this the small supply of provisions and forage which were brought

from Petersburg had been exhausted, and as none had been issued, men and

horses were almost starving.

The enemy’s cavalry now became exceedingly active, and Payne’s brigade

was daily engaged from daylight to dark, and often the struggle lasted

all night. Grant’s immense cavalry force enabled him to make

simultaneous attacks at several points, and thus he succeeded in

destroying a large portion of General Lee’s wagon train, as it was

impossible for the small force of Confederate cavalry to guard all

points. The only thing to be done was to attack the enemy wherever he

struck the train, and most vigorously was this plan followed.

In all these affairs, without exception, the Confederate cavalry was

successful; and in one, when General Robert E. Lee was personally

present and observing, repulsed a sudden and determined charge of

Gregg’s division with great loss, and captured Gregg himself.

Fate seemed to have determined that the Confederate sun should set in

halo worthy of its noonday splendor, and gave a series of unbroken

successes to the cavalry, and crowned all by the magnificent charge of

Gordon’s corps of infantry on the very morning of the surrender, when

that gallant General swept away the enemy’s lines and captured his

batteries in a style that showed that nothing of his old vigor was lost.

There was a serious embarrassment, however, attending the cavalry

victories, viz: The capture of so many prisoners, which towards the last

became nearly as numerous as General Lee’s whole army, and presented a

difficult question both as to feeding and guarding. No rations having

been issued, men and horses had been subsisting from the 4th of April on

a scanty supply of hard corn, which the troops had not even time to

parch, and ate raw from the cob as they marched. On one occasion someone

of the battalion got hold of a raw ham, and generously divided it as far

as it would go. Raw ham, and raw corn from the cob may not be very

palatable to one unfasted, but to Colonel Dorsey and his men it seemed a

luxury.

At Amelia Springs there was a severe fight, in which the enemy was

defeated and pursued some miles. Here a small portion of flour was

issued to each man, but which there was no time to cook, and the flour

was tied up in bags, handkerchiefs, stockings, or anything else at hand

that might serve the purpose; and so it remained for two days before

opportunity to cook it offered, the battalion being in the meantime

constantly engaged.

At last it was impossible for human nature to hold out longer, and the

second night after the fight at Amelia Springs, it was determined to

cook the flour. As soon, therefore, as night came on—which rendered the

enemy’s fire less accurate, and induced his cavalry to become less

aggressive—the brigade, leaving a strong picket force still actively

skirmishing, withdrew behind a neighboring hill and prepared to cook.

There were no cooking utensils nor any convenience to make, but soldiers

who had gone through a four year’s war had many devices at hand to meet

exigencies. A detail with canteens was sent to the stream near by for

water, and oil cloths were substituted for kneading trays. In this way

the flour was hastily moistened into a paste, and as hastily parched in

the embers of the very spare fires which proximity to the enemy reduced

to the smallest possible dimension that could be dignified with the name

of fire. The skirmishers were then relieved by some who had eaten, to

make similar provisions for their wants.

From this time until Lynchburg was reached, on the night of the 9th of

April, when General Lee surrendered at Appomattox Court House, the First

Maryland subsisted on corn and some rations taken from the captured

enemy. It was hard to take food from prisoners, perhaps, but necessity

knows no law, and between starving men the weakest must yield.

Every day’s history was much the same, a constant night and day struggle

with the enemy’s cavalry, who would scarcely be repulsed at one point

before they had to be met at another, perhaps five or ten miles distant.

When the army reached the vicinity of High Bridge it was ascertained

that a force of the enemy was directly in front, having by a forced

march, and being unencumbered, passed around General Lee’s left and

thrown themselves directly in his path. The brigade (which I have

forgotten to state, was now commanded by Brigadier General Thomas T.

Munford, he having succeeded General Payne after the fight at Amelia

Springs, the latter officer being disabled by wounds) was at once

ordered to attack them, which it did with much gallantry, all being

dismounted except the First Maryland, which was sent to the left to cut

off the enemy’s retreat. The enemy, which proved to be a brigade of

infantry and about two hundred cavalry, behaved very gallantly, and at

once met General Munford vigorously. His cavalry charged several times,

but were repulsed with heavy loss, while the enemy’s infantry and

Munford’s dismounted cavalry kept up a heavy fire, both sides suffering

severely, without material advantage to either. At length Deering’s

brigade came up and dismounted, and joining Munford, a general charge

was made by the dismounted men in front, and the First Maryland mounted

in the rear and right flank of the enemy, which resulted in the defeat

and capture of his entire force.

Nearly all the field officers on both sides were killed or badly

wounded.

It will be remembered, in this connection, that although the

Confederates had two brigades engaged here against the one of the

enemy’s infantry and the force of two hundred cavalry, yet he had

greatly the advantage in numbers as well as of a deliberately selected

position. Confederate brigades at this period of the war frequently did

not number five hundred men, and on this occasion General Munford took

into action (including Deering’s men) a smaller force, considerably,

than was captured.

For a short time Munford rested his command, when, after turning over

his prisoners, he again sought the enemy towards the rear of General

Lee’s army. He here found Fitz. Lee closely pressed, and joined his

forces to impede as much as possible their advance. A narrow and deep

stream crossed the road over which the retreat was being conducted, and

at the crossing place the mud was much worked up by the passage of the

army. As this stream was neared the enemy, from the crest of the range

of hills about a mile distant, had a clear view of the retreating

forces. He hurried up his batteries and opened furiously, while his

cavalry pressed hard upon the rear. Crossing the stream, a portion of

the division, including Munford’s brigade, was deployed along its banks

to dispute the passage. A slight and hastily constructed breastwork of

fence rails, thrown up under the fire of the opposing artillery, was all

that Munford had to aid him against the immense force advancing. The

whole face of the country beyond the stream now seemed a mass of troops.

Artillery crowned every available point, while cavalry and infantry in

column advanced rapidly upon the handful of men that stood in their

path. It was necessary that a stand should be made to give time for the

wagon and ordnance trains to pass a small bridge near Farmville. The

enemy’s skirmishers soon lined the banks of the little stream, and

poured in a rapid fire upon Munford, which was vigorously returned. In a

few minutes a heavy column of cavalry charged at the ford, when they

were received with a murderous fire at a range of not over forty yards.

The ford was narrow, deep and marshy; the dead and dying men and horses

encumbered their advance, and the enemy were forced to fall back

defeated after many of them had actually crossed the stream. Several

batteries were then opened upon Munford, but the firing was too wild,

and everything having been accomplished that was desired, and the train

safely over the bridge, the Confederate cavalry retired rapidly, but in

excellent order, towards Farmville, moving in several different columns

in order to present smaller marks to the artillery, which was firing

with much increased accuracy, owing to the clear view which the open

fields afforded.

The enemy then crossed the stream where he had been repulsed, and also

at several other points lower down, and followed in rapid pursuit, and

were soon charging Munford’s rear furiously through Farmville. One

column charged a piece of woods in which lay a force of infantry in

ambuscade, and was literally cut to pieces.

The streams about Farmville were much swollen, and in order to save

time, General Fitz. Lee’s division, still in several different columns,

crossed at as many different points, in most cases swimming their

horses. At nightfall the fighting ceased, but was resumed in the morning

with increased fury.

All this time a large force of the enemy, both infantry and cavalry, had

marched rapidly by parallel roads, and had gotten between General Lee

and Lynchburg, then his only depot of supplies, had captured all the

trains with provisions sent out from that city to meet his army, then on

the verge of starvation, and on the morning of April 8th, near

Appomattox Court House, suddenly attacked his ordnance train, which in

advance of the whole army was pressing on towards Lynchburg, guarded

only by one small brigade of cavalry. But notwithstanding the great

disparity of forces, a severe fight was kept up nearly an hour, the

artillery particularly being well and effectually served, and drove back

the enemy in front. The infantry and dismounted cavalry, however, now

completely surrounded and drove the men from their guns, and captured

all the artillery and wagons, which left General Lee almost destitute of

both. Some few artillerists escaped on their horses, and fled down the

road towards the infantry, followed by a column of cavalry. But the

infantry was prepared for their approach, and permitting the flying

artillerists to pass, they poured in a most deadly volley, which

scattered the pursuers in all directions.

For the balance of the night all remained quiet, and the two armies

anxiously awaited the coming of the morrow, which must decide the fate

of the army of Northern Virginia. Further retreat was impossible as the

enemy held the roads on all sides, and without rations, cannon or

ammunition to supply even the wants of twelve thousand men now left

General Lee, he, on the morning of the 9th of April, confronted Grant’s

mighty host. All the difficulties of the position were well known and

appreciated by the Confederate army, but the men who formed that army

then, who had followed their flag through all the gloom and trials of

the retreat—a retreat which needs only the pen of a Xenophon to make as

famous as that of the “Ten Thousand”—those men, though not of numbers,

but of country, in the dawn of that April morning advanced to meet their

persistent foe with all the calm and lofty courage that would have made

Appomattox Court House a Thermopylæ. Those men, had their leader so

willed it, would have laid down their arms and lives together. They were

men indeed, and worthy to close the record of the army of Northern

Virginia.

As soon as the day gave sufficient light, the battle opened fiercely,

and all thought an engagement had commenced which was to prove the most

desperate and terrible of the war.

General Fitz. Lee’s division of cavalry, now under command of Brigadier

General Munford, (General Fitz. Lee being at the headquarters of the

army) moved through Appomattox Court House, and formed in line of battle

on the right of the road about half a mile beyond that place. The halt

was brief, and it moved in column obliquely to the right and entered a

heavy wood, where it soon came in contact with the enemy.

Throwing out skirmishers to engage them, General Munford moved again to

the right oblique until they were again struck, when more skirmishers

were thrown out, the first having fallen in the rear, and these

movements were continued until he found a weaker place in the enemy’s

line, and made good his passage to the Lynchburg road.

Nothing was known positively. The sounds of a severe fight were plainly

heard, and those movements of the cavalry excited much surprise and

comment among the men and officers composing the division.

At first it was thought that the intention was to get in the enemy’s

rear and charge him while engaged in front by the infantry, which

opinion was much strengthened by a near approach to a battery of the

enemy’s in full action against General Lee’s infantry, but another

detour proved its fallacy, and all were lost in conjecture until the

Lynchburg road was reached, when it became evident that the immediate

object of the movement was to reach that road, as the division at once

halted and formed on each side. From this point the masses of Grant’s

army were plainly visible, standing as if on dress parade.

The firing had now ceased, and surprise at what seemed unaccountable

movements gave place to alarm. Surrender of the army was whispered, but

was heard with indignation by many who would not acknowledge their own

fears to themselves, and all comment was unheeded, and by general

consent it was determined to await events in silence. We could see,

indeed, on the bronzed countenances of those veterans an anxiety too

deep for words.

The First Maryland happened to be nearest to the road and to the enemy,

the men dismounted, but standing to horse—the usual precaution of

skirmishers in front having been, of course, observed.

Everything was still. Not a sound betrayed the presence of the hosts of

armed men in the vicinity, and but for the long lines of blue in sight

upon the hills in front, all might have been taken for a hideous dream.

Suddenly a heavy column of cavalry, moving rapidly along Munford’s

front, and parallel to his line, was seen, about half a mile distant,

marching towards the road, which was presently reached, and a part of

the force, still in column, advanced by the road, and the remainder in

line through the fields to right of the road, and drove back the

skirmishers.

As soon as the design of the enemy was perceived, Colonel Dorsey mounted

his men and moved in column to the road, which was separated from him by

a fence, in which gaps had been made. Through one of these gaps the

First Maryland was passing as rapidly as was consistent with good order,

but the first section had hardly cleared the fence when the enemy, now

in full charge, was seen coming at them not over one hundred yards

distant. Captain Raisin, who rode with Colonel Dorsey at the head,

remarked, “Colonel, we must charge them; it is the only chance;” and

scarcely had the words left his lips when Dorsey, who had already seen

the necessity, gave the command, “Draw sabre, gallop, charge!” and the

little band of Marylanders hurled themselves against the heavy columns

of the enemy, and drove him back. Again he advanced, and again the First

Maryland charged and forced him back.

In this last charge—the last blow struck by the army of Virginia—while

still pushing the enemy vigorously, the battalion was met by an officer

carrying a flag of truce, who suddenly made his appearance from the

right of the road. The fight instantly ceased, and the officer was asked

his business. He replied that General Lee was about to surrender, that

articles of capitulation were being prepared, that hostilities had

ceased, and ended by demanding that the cavalry in his front should come

in and lay down their arms, as being part of General Lee’s army, and

included in the terms.

General Munford called a council of war of all his officers, and after

discussing matters and taking a vote, it was determined not to

surrender, being clearly not subject to the treaty between Lee and

Grant, as the division had broken through the enemy’s lines before a

surrender had been discussed by the leaders of the two armies, and more

especially because the enemy had attacked the division during the truce,

and had only spoken of it after having been thrice repulsed.

In the last charge, immediately before the appearance of the white flag,

young Price, of Company E, Captain Raisin, was killed, thus yielding his

life in the very last blow struck by the army of Northern Virginia.

In accordance with the unanimous opinion of the council of war, General

Munford threw out a heavy skirmish line, and retired towards Lynchburg

unmolested by the enemy, who contented himself with looking on.

Arriving at Lynchburg about night, General Munford’s first care was to

obtain food and forage for his command, which was done without much

difficulty, as large supplies had been gathered at this point with a

view of meeting the necessities of General Lee’s army, a portion of

which supplies, as before said, having been sent out to meet the army,

and captured by the enemy near Appomattox Court House on the 8th.

After feeding, another council was held, and the chances and best means

of reaching Johnson’s army discussed. Without coming to any definite

conclusion, it was determined to move to the north side of the James

river and seek supplies until some news from Johnson could be obtained.

Colonel Dorsey marched to the neighborhood of Waynesboro’, where the

kindness of the people to the soldiers had been before experienced, and

there awaited orders. In about ten days he received a dispatch from

General Munford to move up the Valley, by way of Lexington, towards

Salem, on which route all the cavalry were to march, and to make their

way to Johnson’s army.

The First Maryland was immediately on the march, and arrived at

Cloverdale, in Botetourt county, on the 28th day of April, where Colonel

Dorsey, learning that General Munford was confined to his bed by

sickness, rode to the house at which the General was lying, and received

from him the following letter, which he had prepared to be read to the

First Maryland, and which speaks for itself, the General expressing his

regret that his sickness prevented him from saying farewell to the

battalion in person:

CLOVERDALE, BOTETOURT COUNTY, VA., }

April 28th, 1865. }

LIEUTENANT COLONEL DORSEY,

_Commanding First Maryland Cavalry_.

I have just learned from Captain Emack that your gallant band was

moving up the Valley in response to my call. I am deeply pained to

say that our army cannot be reached, as I have learned that it has

capitulated. It is sad, indeed, to think that our country’s future

is all shrouded in gloom. But for you and your command there is the

consolation of having faithfully done your duty.

Three years ago the chivalric Brown joined my old regiment with

twenty-three Maryland volunteers with light hearts and full of

fight. I soon learned to admire, respect and love them for all those

qualities which endear soldiers to their officers. They recruited

rapidly, and as they increased in numbers, so did their reputation

and friends increase, and they were soon able to form a command and

take a position of their own. Need I say when I see that position so

high and almost alone among soldiers, that my heart swells with

pride to think that a record so bright and glorious is in some part

linked with mine? Would that I could see the mothers and sisters of

every member of your battalion that I might tell them how nobly you

have represented your State and maintained our cause. But you will

not be forgotten. The fame you have won will be guarded by Virginia

with all the pride she feels in her own true sons, and the ties

which have linked us together memory will preserve. You who struck

the first blow in Baltimore, and _the last in Virginia_, have done

all that could be asked of you, and had the rest of our officers and

men adhered to our cause with the same devotion, to-day we would

have been free from Yankee thraldom. I have ordered the brigade to

return to their homes, and it behooves us now to separate. With my

warmest wishes for your welfare, and a hearty God bless you, I bid

you farewell.

THOMAS T. MUNFORD,

_Brigadier General Commanding Division_.

The scene which followed this announcement and letter can only be

conceived by those who have had every energy and sentiment of soul and

heart wrapped up in the attainment of some end a thousand fold dearer

than life, only to find after years of the bitterest struggles and

dearest sacrifices, that all vain, and themselves bankrupt of all that

would make life supportable. This little band of Maryland soldiers,

despairing and broken hearted, were hundreds of miles from home, but

separated still farther by a wanton exercise of power forbidding them to

return to Maryland, which exercise of power was due to the petty malice

of some of the civil authorities of Maryland’s cowardly jackals, tearing

at the dead body of the lion, which living, they dared not face.

With this letter of General Munford, announcing the surrender of General

Joseph E. Johnston’s army, perished the last hope of the Southern

Confederacy, and the few surviving members of the First Maryland cavalry

prepared to bid each other adieu. That was a sad and solemn parting

indeed, and stout hearts melted, and tears from eyes unused to weeping

were profusely shed, when hand clasping hand, farewell was spoken.

The old flag which had so often moved in victory was saluted for the

last time, and reverently taken from its staff and folded away. The last

weeping word was spoken, and with breaking hearts the old battalion

disbanded forever, some riding slowly away, others at full speed as if

to fly from grief.

In their wanderings the exiled soldiers depended entirely upon the

kindness and hospitality of the Virginia people. They had no money or

means to supply their wants—nothing but their destitution and soldiers

life to plead. But Virginia people did not forget their services, and

hastened eagerly to relieve their necessities. At the end, as in the

beginning, and through the progress of the war, the warm-hearted

kindness and genuine hospitality of the Virginians adorned them with a

lustre equal to their valor in battle. The soldiers of the First

Maryland cavalry must cease to have hearts or memories when they forget

the Virginia people and their devoted attentions.

CHANGES

_In the First Maryland Battalion of Cavalry_.

The following changes took place among the officers in the battalion

during the war:

Gustavus W. Dorsey, Lieutenant Colonel commanding, vice Lieutenant

Colonel Ridgely Brown, killed June 1, 1864.

Major Robert C. Smith having been permanently disabled by wounds

received in battle at Greenland Gap, April 25, 1863, and retired from

active service with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, no one was

commissioned to fill vacancy.

John E. H. Post, promoted Adjutant with rank of First Lieutenant, vice

George Booth, promoted A. A. G. on General Bradley T. Johnson’s staff.

Company A.—Thos. Griffith, promoted Captain, vice Captain F. A. Bond,

disabled in battle at Hagerstown, July, 1863, retired from active

service with rank of Major.

J. A. V. Pue, First Lieutenant, vice Griffith, promoted.

Otis Johnson, private, commissioned Second Lieutenant, vice Edward

Beatty, died in prison.

Company B.—Third Lieutenant Blackiston, killed August 12, 1864, no one

commissioned to fill vacancy.

Company C.—Thomas Green, promoted Second Lieutenant, vice W. S.

Turnbull, died in campaign of 1863.

James Walters, private, commissioned Third Lieutenant, Vice Green,

promoted.

Company D.—Milton Welsh, promoted Second Lieutenant, vice Steven D.

Lawrence, resigned—no one commissioned to fill vacancy.

Company E.—No change.

Company F.—C. Irving Ditty, promoted Captain, vice A. F. Schwartz, died

from effects of wounds received in battle, May 9, 1864.

Fielder C. Slingluff, promoted First Lieutenant, vice Ditty, promoted.

Samuel G. Bonn, Second Lieutenant, vice Slingluff, promoted.

Company H.—N. C. Hobbs, promoted Captain, vice Gustavus W. Dorsey,

promoted Lieutenant Colonel.

Edward Pugh, First Lieutenant, vice Hobbs, promoted—no commission to

fill vacancy.

RECAPITULATION.

_State of Battalion at the Close of the War._

Gustavus W. Dorsey, Lieutenant Colonel commanding.

No Major.

J. E. H. Post, First Lieutenant, Adjutant.

Wilner McKnew, Captain, Assistant Surgeon.

Ignatius Dorsey, Captain, A. Q. M.

Company A.—Thomas Griffith, Captain; J. A. V. Pue, First Lieutenant;

Otis Johnson, Second Lieutenant.

Company B.—George W. Emack, Captain; M. E. McKnew, First Lieutenant;

Adolphus Cook, Second Lieutenant.

Company C.—George Howard, Captain; T. Jeff Smith, First Lieutenant;

Thomas Green, Second Lieutenant; James Walters, Third Lieutenant.

Company E.—W. I. Raisin, Captain; John B. Burroughs, First Lieutenant;

Nathaniel Chapman, Second Lieutenant; Joseph K. Roberts, Third

Lieutenant.