as
almost impossible to tell a Reb from a Yank. I sent my orderly to the
rear to find the limbers and have the guns taken back to their original
position, in the open field, to the right of Brandy Station. In a few
moments two squadrons of the First Maryland Cavalry came trotting
through the dust, and I asked the commanding officer where he was
going. He replied that he was ordered forward to support the battery. I
told him to follow me at a gallop, or there would not be any battery to
support. As we emerged from the dust we could see the cannoneers
dragging the guns by hand down the hill, followed by a large body of
the enemy firing their revolvers. We at once charged the enemy,
clearing the crest of the hill, and driving them back through their own
battery. By this time there was but a small squad left of the First
Maryland, for they had drifted in all directions through the heavy
clouds of dust. I took back at a gallop the few of us who kept
together, and began searching for the guns. I found the pieces, but
lost the Marylanders. After keeping me waiting a long time my orderly
came back, stating that he could not find the limbers, and reported
that Colonel Wyndham was wounded, that he could not find the brigade,
and could not tell who was in command of it. I was so chagrined about
the predicament in which the battery was placed that I gave vent to my
feeling so forcibly as to be noticed by the brave cannoneers, who gave
three cheers, and said they would remain and be captured along with
their guns. I said, "No, men, none of that kind of medicine for me. I
will try and find help for you." The guns had been drawn down to the
base of the hill, and while I was trying to collect some men together
for the purpose of having them hauled away, a heavy column of rebel
cavalry came charging around the corner of the house, with their
battle-flag in advance. One of the guns happened to have a round of
canister in it. The sergeant in command of the piece pointed it towards
the charging column, fired, and repulsed them, within forty yards of
us. The head of this column was badly cut up, leaving a number of
horses and men, and the battle-flag, on the slope of the hill. The
sergeant ran up the hill to pick up the rebel colors, and was within a
few yards of them, when the head of the First Maine Cavalry came
dashing past the spot in pursuit of the enemy. One of the men wheeled
his horse, dismounted, picked up the colors, and rode off,