precaution, we walked to the front door to take a survey of the situation, and discovered a company of Federal cavalry entering the front-yard gate. Quickly taking unceremonious leave, we mounted our horses, and leaping the rear-yard fence, reached the thicket, where the preceding night was spent, before the enemy reached the rear of the house. Concealed in the thicket, we watched the enemy's movements. We saw them ride around the house, make some inquiry of the servants, and then pass out the lane. Being now satisfied the way was clear, we returned to the house, and enjoyed our breakfast.

On the night of the 29th, with 30 men of Company B, we attacked the camp of the Twelfth Pennsylvania Cavalry at Charlestown. Passing through the enemy's picket line, through a hollow just east of the town, under cover of a cloud of fog such as usually hangs on autumn nights over the little valleys near the river, and unobserved by the sentry on the adjacent hills, we reached in safety the north side of the town and the rear of the enemy's camp, and rode quietly to a point near the block-house, about twenty yards from the camp. Here the men dismounted, leaving the horses in charge of the fourth man in each file of fours, and noiselessly gained the block-house. Here was the picture of Fitz Greene Halleck's poetical fancy:

"At midnight in his guarded tent,

The Turk was dreaming of the hour."

Stealthily moving on, the sleeping camp was entered, and the occupants awoke to find themselves prisoners. There was sudden confusion and scampering among the enemy. Some twenty of their number, lodged in a stone house near by, opened fire on us. Recognizing the gravity of the situation, we rushed upon the house, and, seizing the door and windows, poured several volleys into the building. Just as George Crayton, my brother Robert W. Baylor, Jr. (a boy of seventeen), and myself entered the door, several shots were fired by the inmates, one mortally wounding my brother and

another severely wounding Crayton. A few moments after, the cry of surrender came from the group huddled together in the building, and the firing ceased. My brother and Crayton were removed to the house of Dr. Mason, who had been for years our family physician, and where I knew they would be well cared for. My brother died in a few hours, but Crayton rallied for awhile, and died soon after the close of the war. The loss of these two gallant soldiers was deeply deplored by their comrades, and especially by myself. On the same day, just one year before, my brother Richard had been killed in a cavalry engagement at Parker's Store, near Fredericksburg, and of the four members of the family in the company I was the last. In this engagement we killed and wounded II of the enemy, captured 27 prisoners and 37 horses and equip

ments.

It seems a little strange in the light of recent publications of the War Records that success attended us in this attack, for we find that as early as November 23d, the day after the attack at Keyes's Ford, General Sheridan dispatched General Stevenson at Harper's Ferry as follows:

KERNSTOWN, VA., November 23, 1864. General: It is reported that Major Congdon, of the Twelfth Pennsylvania Cavalry, reports the enemy in force at or near Charlestown. Find out if he has made this untruthful report. If the Twelfth Pennsylvania Cavalry cannot keep that country clear of guerillas, I will take the shoulder straps off every officer belonging to the regiment and dismount the regiment in disgrace. P. H. SHERIDAN, Major-General.

And on the 28th of the same month he wires the commanding officer at Charlestown:

KERNSTOWN, VA., November 28, 1864.

COMMANDING OFFICER, Charlestown, Va. :

Look out for Mosby to-night.

P. H. SHERIDAN,
Major-General.

And Captain Payne, commanding the Twelfth Pennsylvania on the night of the attack, in his report, says:

I have the honor to report that in accordance with information of yesterday, our reserve post was attacked by the rebels last night between the hours of 11 and 12 o'clock, killing two men, wounding one, and capturing five of our men and 19 horses. The enemy lost in killed, one man (a young Baylor), and three wounded. They were about 200 strong, and attacked the post from different directions, dismounted. They were commanded by a major. Lieutenant Baylor was also with them, as his name was frequently mentioned by them at the time of the attack.

Lieutenant S. F. ADAMS,

NATHANIEL PAYNE,

Captain Commanding.

Acting Assistant Adjutant-General,

Harper's Ferry, W. Va.

The eyes of the Captain on that night evidently had large magnifying powers when viewing our little band of 30 men, and corresponding minimizing powers when recounting his loss on that occasion. He was afraid of General Sheridan's threat.

After the fight at Charlestown, we retired to the neighborhood of Milldale, and got rid of our prisoners and booty. The enemy, it seems, took a scout around, as usual after a fight, and reported as follows:

HEADQUARTERS SECOND CAVALRY DIVISION,
December 1, 1864.

Major WILLIAM RUSSELL, Jr.,

Assistant Adjutant-General Cavalry:

Major, The reconnoisance sent out yesterday under Major T. Gibson, Fourteenth Pennsylvania Cavalry, has returned, having thoroughly scouted the country between Millwood and Summit Point to near Charlestown. No enemy was seen. Mosby was reported to have been in Berryville on the 29th. Baylor, who commanded the party of rebels which fought the Twelfth Pennsylvania Cavalry at Charlestown, was killed, with one man. The party dispersed after the fight. Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

Wм. B. TIBBITTS,

Brevet Brigadier-General Commanding.

I am, notwithstanding this report, thanks to a kind Providence, still alive and hearty. We were not quiet very long. On the 6th day of December, with about 35 men, we made a little scout in the direction of the Double Tollgate, near White Post, expecting to meet some scouting party of the enemy in that direction. We remained in that vicinity until about 3 P. M., when we returned to Milldale, and there learned that two companies of the Twenty-first New York Cavalry, numbering about 100 men, had been there before us, had taken Jim Randall, one of our men, prisoner, had plundered the good citizens of everything valuable, and were not more than twenty minutes ahead of us. That was enough. Though we were greatly inferior in numbers, all clamored for pursuit. We started at a brisk trot and overtook them in about a mile. A charge was ordered, and we came down on them "like a wolf on the fold," with the usual rebel yell. In an instant we were among them, and they in full retreat. Just as I passed the rear of their column I saw Jim Randall in a fence corner disarming one of his captors. He recognized us, and shouted, "Give them hell, boys!" and we did. There was no halt or hesitation among our men. It seemed that each one was trying to be foremost. Lieutenant Holcombe, who was commanding the Yankee detachment, tried to rally his men, and at last, in very desperation, planted his horse across the road to stop them, but they deserted him, and soon our boys, with well-directed shots from their pistols, rolled him and his horse on the ground. It was about this point in the melee that our gallant comrade, Charles Broadway Rouss, who was always in the forefront in a fight, as he is in business to-day, bulged into a Federal trooper, knocking him and his horse down; but the shock threw his horse also, and the bold rider landed about fifteen feet off in a fence corner. But the net spot-cash vigor and nerve was in him then as now, and, mounting again, he was soon among the foremost in the pursuit, which continued for three miles or more. In this