a little closer to them than I wanted to be,
and I'll frankly confess it wasn't bravery that put me there. We were
close enough to discover that we were running into a whole regiment of
Union cavalry, and if we had continued, it would have meant
annihilation.

The captain ordered right about, retreat! At this point to get those 100
horses turned around in that street and get out of the reach of 1000
guns in the hands of 1000 Bluecoats, was a knotty problem. If the enemy
had charged us just at this time, our destruction would have been just
as complete as it would have been if we had gone ahead; but they
hesitated. Perhaps they were afraid of running into a trap.

I ran my horse up against a pump, and finally got turned around, and was
soon leaving my comrades behind me, for she was fleet of foot. But all
at once I felt my steed going down under me. I thought that she was
shot, but did not have much time to think about it, for I was soon for a
few minutes unconscious. My horse had tripped and fallen, and, of
course, I could not keep the saddle, going at a speed like that. The
horse just behind leaped over me, horse and all (so the rider afterward
told me). When I came to myself I was standing in the middle of the road
with a crowd of Yankees around me, among them the colonel of the
regiment. I was holding in my hand the handle of my pistol, the barrel
of which had been broken off by the fall. When called upon to surrender
my arms I meekly handed up this handle, scarcely knowing what I was
doing. One of the Yankees said, "I don't want that, I want your arms."
My arms consisted of a sabre, a short cavalry gun and another pistol,
that remained in its holder.

With some assistance I unbuckled my belt and gave up my arms. The
colonel asked me if I was hurt, and some other questions which I cannot
now recall.

His own horse had been down on its knees, which were badly skinned. He
dismounted and mounted another horse that had been brought to him, and
told me I could have the use of his horse. I mounted with some
difficulty, and was taken to the rear. There was very little firing;
only one man was killed and one horse on our side.

My horse, they afterward told me, passed through the command and did not
stop until she got to Paris, four miles beyond.

The Yankees remained only a short time, when they began their retreat
down the pike with one lone prisoner, myself. On the way they picked up
three or four citizens, which