resented he had sold a possession and the money he brought was all the price. His heir at law in lying, the late historian, has also some of the semblance of truth in his statement. A fight occurred between 25 men of Company B, a portion of the Twelfth Virginia Cavalry, under Lieutenant Baylor (my title then), and companies A and C, of Cole's cavalry, under Captain Vernon, but Captain Baylor was not in command nor was he captured in the fight, but was picked up alone and unarmed while at a house engaged in civil business, and had never fired on a flag of true or violated the laws of war, and it was so found by a Federal general and Secretary of War (a court certainly not biased in his favor), and ordered exchanged.

There was no moving rapidly down the Valley to wipe out Cole's cavalry, for Company B, under my command, unaided and unsupported, had occupied Charlestown for more than a month prior to this occasion and for more than a week afterwards, within eight miles of Cole's cavalry and its support. Every opportunity was afforded them for a trial of combat and it was declined, while on the other hand, Cole's cavalry kept close within infantry protection and under the protection of their artillery. That morning, when with 25 men its outposts were attacked, their artillery opened on

us.

In this fight the only member of our squad captured was William L. Wilson, our ex-Postmaster-General (who is a living witness of the fact), and therefore a large part of our command was not captured, unless Wilson was a large part thereof. The flag of truce violated was Uncle John Sorrell, a faithful old colored man of my father's, standing on our side of the Potomac, at Harper's Ferry, in the fall of 1861, calling over to the Yankees on the other side to come over for him, and the violation was committed by five members of my father's company, concealed under the Baltimore and Ohio railroad trestling, who fired into the enemy, killing and wounding several of a boat-load of Federal robbers, who

had responded to Uncle John's call. My father at the time was in Charlestown. It was a ruse de guerre, planned and executed by the men engaged in it, and Uncle John was a mere decoy duck. This was legitimate warfare and was so decided by General Kelley, and his finding approved by Secretary Stanton.

Christmas day was spent in Charlestown, and the boys. were the recipients of many presents at the hands of the fair and patriotic ladies of the town and vicinity, and all enjoyed the best that the county could afford. In the midst of our festivity and hilarity, Colonel Cole and a couple of attendants came in under a flag of truce bearing a Christmas gift of a permit from Colonel Kenly allowing my mother to enter the Federal lines to visit my father, which was gladly accepted and the visit paid. Inter arma leges silent, but not the hearts, and combatants still preserve some of their humanity, and occasionally extended each other little courtesies and civilities which served to ameliorate the hardships and severeties of war.

CHAPTER VI.

Eternal spirit of the chainless mind!

Brightest in dungeons, liberty, thou art!

Byron.

In the winter of 1863 our brigade, under command of General William E. Jones, encamped near New Market. After lying idle several weeks, some of our boys grew restless and longed to be on the move and to break the monotony of camp life. Permission was asked of General Jones for the company to make a scout in the lower Valley, but the request was refused on grounds we esteemed unreasonable and insufficient. Plans were then laid by some of the men, including Lieutenant Rouss and myself, to outgeneral the General. The camp-itch, a disease peculiar to soldiers living on hard-tack and mess-pork, was then prevalent in our brigade. Taking into our confidence our regimental surgeon, Dr. Burton, one morning about a dozen of us appeared before the surgeon's tent and made application to be sent to the hospital at Harrisonburg to be treated for this disease, and certificates were accordingly granted us. Reporting to the surgeon in charge of the hospital, Dr. Waddell, a Virginia gentleman of the old type, our certificates were presented and we were booked as patients at that institution. Without critical examination into our cases, some anointing ointment and a little bottle of Fowler's Solution of Arsenic was furnished each of us and permission granted to make our stay with friends and acquaintances in the vicinity of the hospital, with directions to report occasionally at the surgeon's office.

Having now arranged our program satisfactorily, the following morning we started down the Valley, determined to try our hands on the Yankees in that section, well assured

that a successful venture would make the amende honorable and sufficient excuse with our officers for our little deviation from the line of military rectitude. Our little band of about a baker's dozen was composed of Lieutenant Rouss, John Chew, Billy Manning, Charlie Henderson, Charlie Crane, John Yates, John Coleman, George Crayton, Billy Gibson, Up Manning, Joe Crane, Duck English, and myself. We crossed the mountain to Luray and passed through Front Royal, stopping at regular intervals with friends along the

route.

February 12th found us at Summit Point, where information was received of a small scouting party of the Twelfth Pennsylvania Cavalry, numbering 21 men, passing that place a short time before our arrival, going in the direction of Middleway or Smithfield. The Federal troops at that time occupied Winchester and various points in that vicinity, and daily sent scouts to the outlying country. This information. greatly pleased us, and off we started in pursuit of the Yankee scouting party. Passing "Happy Retreat," the abode of one of our sweethearts, we were urged not to pursue, as the enemy was too strong for us, but we had travelled 60 miles in hunt of a fracas, and nothing could dissuade us. In fact, we were spoiling for a fight.

As Middleway is approached from the direction of Summit Point, there is a straight stretch of road, probably a mile in extent, just before entering the town. Here the enemy was in full view, slowly sauntering along, totally oblivious of the fact that any foe was in the vicinity. Nearing the hill just south of the town, our gait was accelerated, our pistols made ready, and we struck its rear, with the head of its column just over the hill. So intent were they in conversation and so unmindful of our presence, that the rear file was shot down and we were pressing into the column before they were aware of danger.

No resistance was made, but pell-mell down through the town they ran, with our little band, yelling like hyenas, in