large
white house with a handsome grove around it. In the yard could be seen
a body of cavalry, in number about our own; we saw no other troops
near. Two or three hundred yards to the right of the house an officer,
apparently of rank, with a few men--his staff, probably--riding well
forward, halted, looking toward the town with his glass. Just as he
rode out General Gary had given the order to charge the party in the
yard. Some one remarked that it looked like a flag of truce. "Charge!"
swore Gary in his roughest tones, and on we went. The party in the
yard were taken by surprise; they had not expected us to charge them,
as they were aware that a parley was going on (of which, of course, we
knew nothing), and that there was a suspension of hostilities.

We drove them through the yard, taking one or two prisoners--one
little fellow, who took it very good-humoredly; he had his head tied
up, having got it broken somewhere on the road, and was riding a mule.
We followed up their retreat through the yard, down a road, through
the open woods beyond, and were having it, as we thought, all our own
way--when, stretched along behind the brown oaks, and moving with a
close and steady tramp, was a long line of cavalry, some thousands
strong--Custar's division--our friends of last night. This altered the
complexion of things entirely; the order was instantly given to move
by the left flank--which, without throwing our back to them, changed
the forward into a retrograde movement.

The enemy kept his line unbroken, pressing slowly forward, firing no
volley, but dropping shots from a line of scattered skirmishers in
front was all we got They, of course, knew the condition of things,
and seemed to think we did not. We fell back toward a battery of ours
that was behind us, supported, I think, by a brigade of North Carolina
infantry. We moved slowly, and the enemy's skirmishers got close
enough for a dash to be made by our acting regimental adjutant--in
place of Lieutenant Capers, killed the night before--Lieutenant Haile,
who took a prisoner, but just as it was done one of our
couriers--Tribble, Seventh regiment--mounted on a fine black horse,
bareheaded, dashed between the two lines with a handkerchief tied upon
a switch, sent by General Gordon, announcing the "suspension of
hostilities."

By this time the enterprising adjutant had in turn been made prisoner.
As soon as the orders were understood everything came to a
stand-still, a