th brigades had
been captured, he having escaped by swimming the river. One of our
lieutenants refused to believe his statement and did the worthy fellow
cruel injustice in accusing him of skulking. That his story was true
soon became evident. Our situation was now extremely dangerous, as the
Federals had only to cross on the pontoon bridge a hundred yards from
the fort and "gobble us up." About nine o'clock General Early, with his
other two brigades, arrived. After acquainting himself with the
surrounding conditions, he asked our batterymen for a volunteer to burn
the bridge. To accomplish this would involve extreme danger, as the
moment a light was struck for the purpose a hundred shots could be
expected from the opposite end, not more than seventy-five yards away.
However, William Effinger, of Harrisonburg, Virginia, one of our
cannoneers, promptly volunteered to undertake it; and soon had the
bridge in flames, the enemy not firing a shot. For this gallant and
daring act, Effinger, after a long time, received a lieutenant's
commission and was assigned to another branch of the service.

From this perilous situation we came off surprisingly well, but lost
Robert Bell, of Winchester, Virginia. He was struck by a large piece of
shell, which passed through his body. During the hour he survived, his
companions who could leave their posts went to say good-by. He was a
brave soldier and a modest, unassuming gentleman as well. The Federals,
satisfied with the capture of the two celebrated brigades without loss
to themselves, withdrew--and again we returned to the vicinity of Brandy
Station.

In an artillery company two sentinels are kept on post--one to see after
the guns and ammunition, the other to catch and tie loose horses or
extricate them when tangled in their halters, and the like. Merrick's
name and mine, being together on the roll, we were frequently on guard
at the same time, and, to while away the tedious hours of the night,
would seek each other's company. Our turn came while in this camp one
dark, chilly night; the rain falling fast and the wind moaning through
the leafless woods. As we stood near a fitful fire, Merrick, apparently
becoming oblivious of the dismal surroundings, began to sing. He played
the role of a lover serenading his sweetheart, opening with some lively
air to attract her attention. The pattering of the rain he construed as
her tread to the lattice; then poured forth his soul in deepest patho