no longer left room for
doubt. It proved to be a brigade of New Jersey infantry commanded by
General Taylor, who had just arrived by rail from Alexandria. Rodes's
division was on our left and not three hundred yards distant. As the
enemy advanced, Jackson ordered Rodes to halt. The Federal brigade came
up on our right about one hundred and twenty-five yards from us,
marching by companies in column.

Jackson ordered us to fire on them with canister, which we did, and very
rapidly, as they passed. Then, limbering up, we galloped again to their
flank and repeated the operation; meanwhile, one of our batteries
immediately in their front firing at them with shells. Jackson, who
accompanied us, then drew a white handkerchief from his pocket, and,
waving it up and down, ordered them to surrender, in response to which
one of them raised his gun and fired deliberately at him. I heard the
Minie as it whistled by him. After limbering up our guns for the third
time to keep in close range, I turned to get my blanket, which I had
left on the ground while engaged, and, as I ran to overtake the guns,
found myself between Rodes's line, which had now advanced, and the
Federals, in easy range of each other. I expected, of course, to be
riddled with bullets, but neither side fired a shot.

The Federals moved on in perfect order, then suddenly broke and came
back like a flock of sheep; and, most singular of all, Rodes's division
was ordered back and let them pass, we still firing. All in all, it was
a fine sample of a sham battle, as I saw none of them killed and heard
there were very few, and the only shot they fired was the one at General
Jackson. After crossing a ravine along which ran a creek, they had a
hill to ascend which kept them still in full view, while we fired at
them with shells and solid shot as they streamed along the paths.
Maupin, a member of our detachment, picked up a canteen of whiskey which
had been thrown aside in their flight. As it was the only liquid to
which we had access on that hot August day, we each took a turn, and
soon undertook to criticise our gunner's bad shooting, telling him among
other things that if he would aim lower he would do more execution.

After the enemy had disappeared from our sight, and the battery had gone
into park, I borrowed Sergeant Dick Payne's horse to ride to the creek,
over which the enemy had retreated, for a canteen of water. When within
a few steps of the branch, I passed two