The line went on in the rain.
The lieutenant placed me in charge of the two men, ordering them to take me at once to the rear, and to report to General Davidson. I have never learned the name of that lieutenant; he had some good qualities.
Meanwhile a sharp skirmish was going on in front, and our line did not seem to advance. A section of artillery dashed by. I began to understand that, if I had gone on a few hundred yards, I should have run upon the enemy in force.
I was brought before General Davidson. He was on horse, at the head of his brigade. He asked me my name.
"Jones Berwick, General," said I.
"What is your business?"
"I am a private, sir, in the Eleventh Massachusetts."
He smiled at this; then he asked, still smiling, "Where is your regiment?"
"It is in camp below Washington, General, I suppose; at least, it had not reached Newport News on the evening of the day before yesterday."
"How is it that you are here while your regiment is still near Washington?"