a map. I was shown the
position where the enemy were supposed to be, near Amelia Court-House,
and was instructed to proceed with my regiment about two or three miles
in advance of our brigade, press through all small detachments, and
attack the enemy's wagon-train at daylight. We reached some high ground
just as the sun was rising, and below at our feet lay the whole rebel
army in line of battle, apparently sound asleep. It was a beautiful
sight to look upon. Here instructions were given to the men that when
the charge was sounded by the bugles they should yell like demons and
tell all the rebels they met, particularly the officers, that Sheridan
and all his cavalry corps were upon them. This regiment with its three
hundred veterans charged through a number of outlying commands,
destroying about three hundred wagons, cutting out twelve hundred head
of horses and mules, capturing eight hundred prisoners, eleven rebel
battle-flags, and a bright, new spick-and-span battery of Armstrong
field-guns, which shortly before had been presented by the ladies of
Liverpool to the corporation of the city of Richmond. We held our
ground and captures until General Davies came to our relief, which he
did very promptly.

Let me relate an amusing incident. Between daylight and sunrise I
observed a body of rebel cavalry holding Paines' Cross-Roads. In a
house by the roadside there resided an Episcopal clergyman. The
gentleman came out, stood at his gate, and looked first at us, then at
his friends. He had a gold watch in his hand, as though looking at the
time of day. I ordered two squadrons to charge the rebels and clear the
road, and while they were performing that duty we advanced the balance
of the command, halting in front of our religious friend, when the
following conversation took place: "Good-morning." "Good-morning, sir."
"You are the first live Yankee cavalry commander I have seen since the
war commenced." My reply was, "Then you are not a pupil of General
Hooker's." He laughingly said "No," and then he asked, hearing the
firing of the small-arms of the charging squadrons, "Are you going to
have a battle here? If so, how long will it last?" My reply was, "No,
sir; we will move on." I then asked him why he kept his watch in his
hand. His reply was, "I thought I would time you to find out how soon
you would be driven off the sacred soil of the immortal Washington." I
moved away, smiling at the old rector's loyalty to the Father of