CHAPTER X.
After this affair the brigade of Jackson retired to within twelve or fifteen miles of Orange Court House, where it remained until about the first of March, when Sheridan moved down the Valley in heavy force, and captured the little that remained of Early’s command near Waynesboro’. The First Maryland was ordered to hang upon his flank, which it did with great tenacity, first striking him on James river, beyond Charlottesville, and following him to the White House, on York river. So small a force could accomplish nothing by a direct attack, and it therefore confined its operations to cutting off scouting and marauding parties, which amounted in the aggregate to more than their own number three times over.
The battalion rested for some days near Richmond after it had returned from following Sheridan, when it was ordered to join Lomax in West Virginia. It accordingly marched to join that officer, and when about two days advanced on the journey, was ordered back with all speed to report to General Fitz. Lee at Stony creek, twenty miles from Petersburg.
Reaching Richmond on the evening of April 2d, 1865, it went into camp on its suburbs. Early next morning (Sunday) the battalion moved through the city, and had the pleasure of greeting many of their comrades, prisoners on parole, awaiting exchange. The day had nothing of Sabbath quiet, churches were unattended, and the streets filled with anxious crowds of soldiers and citizens eagerly seeking and discussing the army news. Already many painful rumors were rife betokening disaster, but resolutely refusing to doubt the success of the cause in which their very souls were embarked, the little band of Marylanders—now reduced to less than one hundred in the saddle—pushed on, followed by the regrets and blessings of their paroled brothers, whose obligations forbade them, as yet, to take part in the stirring events then occurring. As the lines at Petersburg were approached, it was inexpressibly cheering to see everything calm, and the army apparently as confident and defiant as ever.
It was well known that the odds against General Lee were immense, but all Confederate victories had been won against such advantages, and an abiding faith in the justice of their cause, and genius of their great chief, kept up the spirits of Colonel Dorsey’s command in spite of all drawbacks. When, therefore, bodies of troops of greater or less force were seen in motion, on or near the Petersburg road, in perfect order, and advancing towards the sound of the firing, which had all day been heard in their front, the Maryland soldiers took these facts as perfect confirmation of their pre-entertained opinion that all the news which had given rise to such distressing rumors were, instead of a retreat of the Army of Northern Virginia, only a strategic device on the part of General Lee to bring Grant out from behind his breastworks in order to attack and destroy him. Nor was this idea weakened at all when, after reaching Petersburg about dark, they found everything prepared for motion, and heard that General Lee’s lines had been broken. The heavy batteries in front were in full action, and it naturally seemed that so much firing must indicate stout resistance.
Failing to find any order from General Fitz. Lee at this point, who had before this left Stony creek for some point to him unknown, Colonel Dorsey availed himself of such shelter as the ground afforded to rest and feed man and horse, and to await information or orders. Here there was abundance of food and forage, for which there was not transportation, and orders had been issued for its destruction. Colonel Dorsey was therefore permitted to take as much of both for his command as could be carried, which was not much, as the horses were too weak, on account of long marches and insufficient food, to bear any considerable increase of burden. Horses and men, however, had one full meal, and it being the soldier’s philosophy to let each day take care of itself, all were soon stretched upon the ground to catch such repose as might be vouchsafed them.
The enemy’s fire seemed to increase in violence, and shot and shell soon began to pass over the encampment, and far in its rear, but did no damage, as the intervening hill gave full protection. In this situation, heedless of all the noises, exhausted nature demanded rest, and the First Maryland slept.
A couple of hours passed, when the command was aroused, saddled up, and prepared to move, Colonel Dorsey having at last received orders to follow in the rear of Mahone’s division, which formed the rear of the Confederate army. This division had not yet come up, and while awaiting its appearance, the command looked on and grieved over the destruction of ordnance and quartermaster’s stores, which were now being fired in every direction to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy. These fires had evidently aroused the enemy into increased action, and his batteries were now in a constant blaze, while the explosion of his shells and the Confederate ammunition wagons made the night hideous with war’s most infernal din. Fortunately the enemy directed his guns at the fires, and as everybody kept away from them, no damage was done.
The battalion was drawn up along the roadside waiting to march, and coaxing their horses to eat as much oats as possible. Near by was a train of cars loaded with ammunition, and word was passed to look out, as it was about to be set on fire. For a while every man stood to horse, but the explosion not ensuing as soon as expected, attention was called off, and the caution forgotten. Bridles were let go, and some of the men walked towards the quartermaster’s stores, near the ammunition train, to make further selections. Suddenly a tremendous shock was felt, which threw many to the ground, whilst the horses reared and plunged and broke from their riders, and for a time all was the wildest confusion. When matters had become a little calm, two men belonging to the quartermaster’s department were found dead, and twenty horses of the First Maryland had run off at full speed towards Richmond, though fortunately none of the men were hurt beyond a few bruises. The runaway horses must have been terribly frightened, for in their poor condition they ran twenty miles without halting, and only thirteen of the twenty were recovered; thus the battalion lost the services of seven men, who being dismounted, had to remain with the wagons. The explosion took place two hundred yards distant, but the force was great enough to knock down those nearest to it, and greatly shock the others.
Soon after this occurrence, Mahone’s division came up at the quickstep, and in fine order and spirits, which cheered the hearts of the little cavalry band beyond expression. Day had dawned before the rear passed, and just at that time, in the grey light of morning, was seen a brilliant flash, and for a few moments the earth trembled under foot, and a tremendous explosion plainly told that the fortifications at Drury’s Bluff were no more. In ten minutes another flash, shock and explosion ensued, and the Confederate gunboats on the James had shared the fate of the batteries on shore. Other similar explosions followed as smaller magazines were destroyed, filling the whole atmosphere with sulphurous smoke, while the flames licked the sky from many a conflagration, and it was with sad hearts that the little battalion turned and followed in the footsteps of the infantry. Thus commenced the retreat that ended in the surrender of the army of Northern Virginia.
The roads were muddy and wretchedly cut up by the passage of the artillery and heavy wagons, and the army, though in constant motion, made slow progress. By the next afternoon, Monday 3d of April, Amelia Court House was reached, where the enemy made a slight demonstration, but did not seriously attack. Early on the morning of the 4th Colonel Dorsey ascertaining the whereabouts of General Fitz. Lee, joined his division, in pursuance of his original order, and was assigned to Payne’s brigade.
Before this the small supply of provisions and forage which were brought from Petersburg had been exhausted, and as none had been issued, men and horses were almost starving.
The enemy’s cavalry now became exceedingly active, and Payne’s brigade was daily engaged from daylight to dark, and often the struggle lasted all night. Grant’s immense cavalry force enabled him to make simultaneous attacks at several points, and thus he succeeded in destroying a large portion of General Lee’s wagon train, as it was impossible for the small force of Confederate cavalry to guard all points. The only thing to be done was to attack the enemy wherever he struck the train, and most vigorously was this plan followed.
In all these affairs, without exception, the Confederate cavalry was successful; and in one, when General Robert E. Lee was personally present and observing, repulsed a sudden and determined charge of Gregg’s division with great loss, and captured Gregg himself.
Fate seemed to have determined that the Confederate sun should set in halo worthy of its noonday splendor, and gave a series of unbroken successes to the cavalry, and crowned all by the magnificent charge of Gordon’s corps of infantry on the very morning of the surrender, when that gallant General swept away the enemy’s lines and captured his batteries in a style that showed that nothing of his old vigor was lost. There was a serious embarrassment, however, attending the cavalry victories, viz: The capture of so many prisoners, which towards the last became nearly as numerous as General Lee’s whole army, and presented a difficult question both as to feeding and guarding. No rations having been issued, men and horses had been subsisting from the 4th of April on a scanty supply of hard corn, which the troops had not even time to parch, and ate raw from the cob as they marched. On one occasion someone of the battalion got hold of a raw ham, and generously divided it as far as it would go. Raw ham, and raw corn from the cob may not be very palatable to one unfasted, but to Colonel Dorsey and his men it seemed a luxury.
At Amelia Springs there was a severe fight, in which the enemy was defeated and pursued some miles. Here a small portion of flour was issued to each man, but which there was no time to cook, and the flour was tied up in bags, handkerchiefs, stockings, or anything else at hand that might serve the purpose; and so it remained for two days before opportunity to cook it offered, the battalion being in the meantime constantly engaged.
At last it was impossible for human nature to hold out longer, and the second night after the fight at Amelia Springs, it was determined to cook the flour. As soon, therefore, as night came on—which rendered the enemy’s fire less accurate, and induced his cavalry to become less aggressive—the brigade, leaving a strong picket force still actively skirmishing, withdrew behind a neighboring hill and prepared to cook. There were no cooking utensils nor any convenience to make, but soldiers who had gone through a four year’s war had many devices at hand to meet exigencies. A detail with canteens was sent to the stream near by for water, and oil cloths were substituted for kneading trays. In this way the flour was hastily moistened into a paste, and as hastily parched in the embers of the very spare fires which proximity to the enemy reduced to the smallest possible dimension that could be dignified with the name of fire. The skirmishers were then relieved by some who had eaten, to make similar provisions for their wants.
From this time until Lynchburg was reached, on the night of the 9th of April, when General Lee surrendered at Appomattox Court House, the First Maryland subsisted on corn and some rations taken from the captured enemy. It was hard to take food from prisoners, perhaps, but necessity knows no law, and between starving men the weakest must yield.
Every day’s history was much the same, a constant night and day struggle with the enemy’s cavalry, who would scarcely be repulsed at one point before they had to be met at another, perhaps five or ten miles distant.
When the army reached the vicinity of High Bridge it was ascertained that a force of the enemy was directly in front, having by a forced march, and being unencumbered, passed around General Lee’s left and thrown themselves directly in his path. The brigade (which I have forgotten to state, was now commanded by Brigadier General Thomas T. Munford, he having succeeded General Payne after the fight at Amelia Springs, the latter officer being disabled by wounds) was at once ordered to attack them, which it did with much gallantry, all being dismounted except the First Maryland, which was sent to the left to cut off the enemy’s retreat. The enemy, which proved to be a brigade of infantry and about two hundred cavalry, behaved very gallantly, and at once met General Munford vigorously. His cavalry charged several times, but were repulsed with heavy loss, while the enemy’s infantry and Munford’s dismounted cavalry kept up a heavy fire, both sides suffering severely, without material advantage to either. At length Deering’s brigade came up and dismounted, and joining Munford, a general charge was made by the dismounted men in front, and the First Maryland mounted in the rear and right flank of the enemy, which resulted in the defeat and capture of his entire force.
Nearly all the field officers on both sides were killed or badly wounded.
It will be remembered, in this connection, that although the Confederates had two brigades engaged here against the one of the enemy’s infantry and the force of two hundred cavalry, yet he had greatly the advantage in numbers as well as of a deliberately selected position. Confederate brigades at this period of the war frequently did not number five hundred men, and on this occasion General Munford took into action (including Deering’s men) a smaller force, considerably, than was captured.
For a short time Munford rested his command, when, after turning over his prisoners, he again sought the enemy towards the rear of General Lee’s army. He here found Fitz. Lee closely pressed, and joined his forces to impede as much as possible their advance. A narrow and deep stream crossed the road over which the retreat was being conducted, and at the crossing place the mud was much worked up by the passage of the army. As this stream was neared the enemy, from the crest of the range of hills about a mile distant, had a clear view of the retreating forces. He hurried up his batteries and opened furiously, while his cavalry pressed hard upon the rear. Crossing the stream, a portion of the division, including Munford’s brigade, was deployed along its banks to dispute the passage. A slight and hastily constructed breastwork of fence rails, thrown up under the fire of the opposing artillery, was all that Munford had to aid him against the immense force advancing. The whole face of the country beyond the stream now seemed a mass of troops. Artillery crowned every available point, while cavalry and infantry in column advanced rapidly upon the handful of men that stood in their path. It was necessary that a stand should be made to give time for the wagon and ordnance trains to pass a small bridge near Farmville. The enemy’s skirmishers soon lined the banks of the little stream, and poured in a rapid fire upon Munford, which was vigorously returned. In a few minutes a heavy column of cavalry charged at the ford, when they were received with a murderous fire at a range of not over forty yards. The ford was narrow, deep and marshy; the dead and dying men and horses encumbered their advance, and the enemy were forced to fall back defeated after many of them had actually crossed the stream. Several batteries were then opened upon Munford, but the firing was too wild, and everything having been accomplished that was desired, and the train safely over the bridge, the Confederate cavalry retired rapidly, but in excellent order, towards Farmville, moving in several different columns in order to present smaller marks to the artillery, which was firing with much increased accuracy, owing to the clear view which the open fields afforded.
The enemy then crossed the stream where he had been repulsed, and also at several other points lower down, and followed in rapid pursuit, and were soon charging Munford’s rear furiously through Farmville. One column charged a piece of woods in which lay a force of infantry in ambuscade, and was literally cut to pieces.
The streams about Farmville were much swollen, and in order to save time, General Fitz. Lee’s division, still in several different columns, crossed at as many different points, in most cases swimming their horses. At nightfall the fighting ceased, but was resumed in the morning with increased fury.
All this time a large force of the enemy, both infantry and cavalry, had marched rapidly by parallel roads, and had gotten between General Lee and Lynchburg, then his only depot of supplies, had captured all the trains with provisions sent out from that city to meet his army, then on the verge of starvation, and on the morning of April 8th, near Appomattox Court House, suddenly attacked his ordnance train, which in advance of the whole army was pressing on towards Lynchburg, guarded only by one small brigade of cavalry. But notwithstanding the great disparity of forces, a severe fight was kept up nearly an hour, the artillery particularly being well and effectually served, and drove back the enemy in front. The infantry and dismounted cavalry, however, now completely surrounded and drove the men from their guns, and captured all the artillery and wagons, which left General Lee almost destitute of both. Some few artillerists escaped on their horses, and fled down the road towards the infantry, followed by a column of cavalry. But the infantry was prepared for their approach, and permitting the flying artillerists to pass, they poured in a most deadly volley, which scattered the pursuers in all directions.
For the balance of the night all remained quiet, and the two armies anxiously awaited the coming of the morrow, which must decide the fate of the army of Northern Virginia. Further retreat was impossible as the enemy held the roads on all sides, and without rations, cannon or ammunition to supply even the wants of twelve thousand men now left General Lee, he, on the morning of the 9th of April, confronted Grant’s mighty host. All the difficulties of the position were well known and appreciated by the Confederate army, but the men who formed that army then, who had followed their flag through all the gloom and trials of the retreat—a retreat which needs only the pen of a Xenophon to make as famous as that of the “Ten Thousand”—those men, though not of numbers, but of country, in the dawn of that April morning advanced to meet their persistent foe with all the calm and lofty courage that would have made Appomattox Court House a Thermopylæ. Those men, had their leader so willed it, would have laid down their arms and lives together. They were men indeed, and worthy to close the record of the army of Northern Virginia.
As soon as the day gave sufficient light, the battle opened fiercely, and all thought an engagement had commenced which was to prove the most desperate and terrible of the war.
General Fitz. Lee’s division of cavalry, now under command of Brigadier General Munford, (General Fitz. Lee being at the headquarters of the army) moved through Appomattox Court House, and formed in line of battle on the right of the road about half a mile beyond that place. The halt was brief, and it moved in column obliquely to the right and entered a heavy wood, where it soon came in contact with the enemy.
Throwing out skirmishers to engage them, General Munford moved again to the right oblique until they were again struck, when more skirmishers were thrown out, the first having fallen in the rear, and these movements were continued until he found a weaker place in the enemy’s line, and made good his passage to the Lynchburg road.
Nothing was known positively. The sounds of a severe fight were plainly heard, and those movements of the cavalry excited much surprise and comment among the men and officers composing the division.
At first it was thought that the intention was to get in the enemy’s rear and charge him while engaged in front by the infantry, which opinion was much strengthened by a near approach to a battery of the enemy’s in full action against General Lee’s infantry, but another detour proved its fallacy, and all were lost in conjecture until the Lynchburg road was reached, when it became evident that the immediate object of the movement was to reach that road, as the division at once halted and formed on each side. From this point the masses of Grant’s army were plainly visible, standing as if on dress parade.
The firing had now ceased, and surprise at what seemed unaccountable movements gave place to alarm. Surrender of the army was whispered, but was heard with indignation by many who would not acknowledge their own fears to themselves, and all comment was unheeded, and by general consent it was determined to await events in silence. We could see, indeed, on the bronzed countenances of those veterans an anxiety too deep for words.
The First Maryland happened to be nearest to the road and to the enemy, the men dismounted, but standing to horse—the usual precaution of skirmishers in front having been, of course, observed.
Everything was still. Not a sound betrayed the presence of the hosts of armed men in the vicinity, and but for the long lines of blue in sight upon the hills in front, all might have been taken for a hideous dream.
Suddenly a heavy column of cavalry, moving rapidly along Munford’s front, and parallel to his line, was seen, about half a mile distant, marching towards the road, which was presently reached, and a part of the force, still in column, advanced by the road, and the remainder in line through the fields to right of the road, and drove back the skirmishers.
As soon as the design of the enemy was perceived, Colonel Dorsey mounted his men and moved in column to the road, which was separated from him by a fence, in which gaps had been made. Through one of these gaps the First Maryland was passing as rapidly as was consistent with good order, but the first section had hardly cleared the fence when the enemy, now in full charge, was seen coming at them not over one hundred yards distant. Captain Raisin, who rode with Colonel Dorsey at the head, remarked, “Colonel, we must charge them; it is the only chance;” and scarcely had the words left his lips when Dorsey, who had already seen the necessity, gave the command, “Draw sabre, gallop, charge!” and the little band of Marylanders hurled themselves against the heavy columns of the enemy, and drove him back. Again he advanced, and again the First Maryland charged and forced him back.
In this last charge—the last blow struck by the army of Virginia—while still pushing the enemy vigorously, the battalion was met by an officer carrying a flag of truce, who suddenly made his appearance from the right of the road. The fight instantly ceased, and the officer was asked his business. He replied that General Lee was about to surrender, that articles of capitulation were being prepared, that hostilities had ceased, and ended by demanding that the cavalry in his front should come in and lay down their arms, as being part of General Lee’s army, and included in the terms.
General Munford called a council of war of all his officers, and after discussing matters and taking a vote, it was determined not to surrender, being clearly not subject to the treaty between Lee and Grant, as the division had broken through the enemy’s lines before a surrender had been discussed by the leaders of the two armies, and more especially because the enemy had attacked the division during the truce, and had only spoken of it after having been thrice repulsed.
In the last charge, immediately before the appearance of the white flag, young Price, of Company E, Captain Raisin, was killed, thus yielding his life in the very last blow struck by the army of Northern Virginia.
In accordance with the unanimous opinion of the council of war, General Munford threw out a heavy skirmish line, and retired towards Lynchburg unmolested by the enemy, who contented himself with looking on.
Arriving at Lynchburg about night, General Munford’s first care was to obtain food and forage for his command, which was done without much difficulty, as large supplies had been gathered at this point with a view of meeting the necessities of General Lee’s army, a portion of which supplies, as before said, having been sent out to meet the army, and captured by the enemy near Appomattox Court House on the 8th.
After feeding, another council was held, and the chances and best means of reaching Johnson’s army discussed. Without coming to any definite conclusion, it was determined to move to the north side of the James river and seek supplies until some news from Johnson could be obtained.
Colonel Dorsey marched to the neighborhood of Waynesboro’, where the kindness of the people to the soldiers had been before experienced, and there awaited orders. In about ten days he received a dispatch from General Munford to move up the Valley, by way of Lexington, towards Salem, on which route all the cavalry were to march, and to make their way to Johnson’s army.
The First Maryland was immediately on the march, and arrived at Cloverdale, in Botetourt county, on the 28th day of April, where Colonel Dorsey, learning that General Munford was confined to his bed by sickness, rode to the house at which the General was lying, and received from him the following letter, which he had prepared to be read to the First Maryland, and which speaks for itself, the General expressing his regret that his sickness prevented him from saying farewell to the battalion in person:
Cloverdale, Botetourt County, Va., }
April 28th, 1865. }
Lieutenant Colonel Dorsey,
Commanding First Maryland Cavalry.
I have just learned from Captain Emack that your gallant band was moving up the Valley in response to my call. I am deeply pained to say that our army cannot be reached, as I have learned that it has capitulated. It is sad, indeed, to think that our country’s future is all shrouded in gloom. But for you and your command there is the consolation of having faithfully done your duty.
Three years ago the chivalric Brown joined my old regiment with twenty-three Maryland volunteers with light hearts and full of fight. I soon learned to admire, respect and love them for all those qualities which endear soldiers to their officers. They recruited rapidly, and as they increased in numbers, so did their reputation and friends increase, and they were soon able to form a command and take a position of their own. Need I say when I see that position so high and almost alone among soldiers, that my heart swells with pride to think that a record so bright and glorious is in some part linked with mine? Would that I could see the mothers and sisters of every member of your battalion that I might tell them how nobly you have represented your State and maintained our cause. But you will not be forgotten. The fame you have won will be guarded by Virginia with all the pride she feels in her own true sons, and the ties which have linked us together memory will preserve. You who struck the first blow in Baltimore, and the last in Virginia, have done all that could be asked of you, and had the rest of our officers and men adhered to our cause with the same devotion, to-day we would have been free from Yankee thraldom. I have ordered the brigade to return to their homes, and it behooves us now to separate. With my warmest wishes for your welfare, and a hearty God bless you, I bid you farewell.
THOMAS T. MUNFORD,
Brigadier General Commanding Division.
The scene which followed this announcement and letter can only be conceived by those who have had every energy and sentiment of soul and heart wrapped up in the attainment of some end a thousand fold dearer than life, only to find after years of the bitterest struggles and dearest sacrifices, that all vain, and themselves bankrupt of all that would make life supportable. This little band of Maryland soldiers, despairing and broken hearted, were hundreds of miles from home, but separated still farther by a wanton exercise of power forbidding them to return to Maryland, which exercise of power was due to the petty malice of some of the civil authorities of Maryland’s cowardly jackals, tearing at the dead body of the lion, which living, they dared not face.
With this letter of General Munford, announcing the surrender of General Joseph E. Johnston’s army, perished the last hope of the Southern Confederacy, and the few surviving members of the First Maryland cavalry prepared to bid each other adieu. That was a sad and solemn parting indeed, and stout hearts melted, and tears from eyes unused to weeping were profusely shed, when hand clasping hand, farewell was spoken.
The old flag which had so often moved in victory was saluted for the last time, and reverently taken from its staff and folded away. The last weeping word was spoken, and with breaking hearts the old battalion disbanded forever, some riding slowly away, others at full speed as if to fly from grief.
In their wanderings the exiled soldiers depended entirely upon the kindness and hospitality of the Virginia people. They had no money or means to supply their wants—nothing but their destitution and soldiers life to plead. But Virginia people did not forget their services, and hastened eagerly to relieve their necessities. At the end, as in the beginning, and through the progress of the war, the warm-hearted kindness and genuine hospitality of the Virginians adorned them with a lustre equal to their valor in battle. The soldiers of the First Maryland cavalry must cease to have hearts or memories when they forget the Virginia people and their devoted attentions.
CHANGES
In the First Maryland Battalion of Cavalry.
The following changes took place among the officers in the battalion during the war:
Gustavus W. Dorsey, Lieutenant Colonel commanding, vice Lieutenant Colonel Ridgely Brown, killed June 1, 1864.
Major Robert C. Smith having been permanently disabled by wounds received in battle at Greenland Gap, April 25, 1863, and retired from active service with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, no one was commissioned to fill vacancy.
John E. H. Post, promoted Adjutant with rank of First Lieutenant, vice George Booth, promoted A. A. G. on General Bradley T. Johnson’s staff.
Company A.—Thos. Griffith, promoted Captain, vice Captain F. A. Bond, disabled in battle at Hagerstown, July, 1863, retired from active service with rank of Major.
J. A. V. Pue, First Lieutenant, vice Griffith, promoted.
Otis Johnson, private, commissioned Second Lieutenant, vice Edward Beatty, died in prison.
Company B.—Third Lieutenant Blackiston, killed August 12, 1864, no one commissioned to fill vacancy.
Company C.—Thomas Green, promoted Second Lieutenant, vice W. S. Turnbull, died in campaign of 1863.
James Walters, private, commissioned Third Lieutenant, Vice Green, promoted.
Company D.—Milton Welsh, promoted Second Lieutenant, vice Steven D. Lawrence, resigned—no one commissioned to fill vacancy.
Company E.—No change.
Company F.—C. Irving Ditty, promoted Captain, vice A. F. Schwartz, died from effects of wounds received in battle, May 9, 1864.
Fielder C. Slingluff, promoted First Lieutenant, vice Ditty, promoted.
Samuel G. Bonn, Second Lieutenant, vice Slingluff, promoted.
Company H.—N. C. Hobbs, promoted Captain, vice Gustavus W. Dorsey, promoted Lieutenant Colonel.
Edward Pugh, First Lieutenant, vice Hobbs, promoted—no commission to fill vacancy.
RECAPITULATION.
State of Battalion at the Close of the War.
Gustavus W. Dorsey, Lieutenant Colonel commanding.
No Major.
J. E. H. Post, First Lieutenant, Adjutant.
Wilner McKnew, Captain, Assistant Surgeon.
Ignatius Dorsey, Captain, A. Q. M.
Company A.—Thomas Griffith, Captain; J. A. V. Pue, First Lieutenant; Otis Johnson, Second Lieutenant.
Company B.—George W. Emack, Captain; M. E. McKnew, First Lieutenant; Adolphus Cook, Second Lieutenant.
Company C.—George Howard, Captain; T. Jeff Smith, First Lieutenant; Thomas Green, Second Lieutenant; James Walters, Third Lieutenant.
Company E.—W. I. Raisin, Captain; John B. Burroughs, First Lieutenant; Nathaniel Chapman, Second Lieutenant; Joseph K. Roberts, Third Lieutenant.
CASUALTIES
Of the Officers as near as can be remembered.
Killed—Lieutenant Colonel Ridgely Brown, Captain A. F. Schwartz, Lieutenant Henry C. Blackiston.
Wounded—Lieutenant Colonel Dorsey, severely; Major R. C. Smith, severely, disabled; Captain George W. Booth, Adjutant, severely; Captain F. A. Bond, severely, disabled; Captain George W. Emack, several times slightly; Captain Raisin, severely; Lieutenant J. A. V. Pue, severely; Lieutenant Thomas Green, severely; Lieutenant W. H. Dorsey, several times; Lieutenant Joseph K. Roberts, severely; Lieutenant C. Irving Ditty, severely.