I here relate an incident happening on this line while at the Howlett House, which caused much grief, growing out, as I believe, of misinformation and misunderstanding, whereby three of the best soldiers of Company D—A. J. Thompson, Harry Snidow and J. C. Hughes—were arrested upon a charge of encouraging insubordination and mutiny, of which they were convicted and sentenced to be shot, and pending the approval of General Lee (which was never had, so far as I know), were incarcerated in "Castle Thunder" in Richmond, from which they were only released by the Union army on entering the city April 3, 1865. In the opinion of the writer, who knew these three men, all sergeants, through and through, this proceeding was excessive and unwarranted. Surely three long years of untiring devotion and loyalty to the cause for which we fought should be counted worth something.

General Pendleton, the chief of artillery of the army, visited our lines the middle of March and made a speech, in which he said, "The time is rapidly approaching for the opening of the campaign, and that man Grant over there means mischief. Only with a union of strong arms and brave hearts can we hope to win. Pack your haversacks and be ready to move." There was now great activity within the lines of the enemy; the whistle of the locomotive, the inclination and the action of the enemy to crowd us, all pointed to an early movement, but the question confronted us—What are we to do? Can we get away and how far? Not a mule nor horse that can pull a hundred pounds five miles through the mud. It was suggested, let us go south and join General Joe Johnston, unite forces with him, whip Grant and then Sherman. Some said one thing, some another, but all agreed that if Richmond had to be given up, it were better it had been abandoned the fall before, when our transportation was in better shape and our army numerically stronger, and General Grant's not in such good condition, not yet having recovered from its bloody campaign from the Rapidan to Petersburg, and not so confident as now.

Brigadier-General David E. Johnston and Aid-de-Camp D. E. J. Wilson

In March, 1865, at night, our division was withdrawn from the lines, Mahone's division taking our place. We were hurried up to Richmond to the outer intrenchments north of the city to meet the Federal General Sheridan's cavalry corps of 10,000 men, which a few days before had overwhelmed the little band of about 1500 men of General Early in the valley near Waynesboro, and were now rapidly approaching Richmond by way of Charlottesville. Near Ashland Corse's brigade had a brisk skirmish with Sheridan's advance. It was apparent that General Sheridan had no thought of attacking Richmond (he was never known to attack unless he had the advantage) but had crossed the Chickahominy and was making his way to join the main army south of the James.

Chapter XXVI

We were hastened through Richmond and to the south of the James, marching to the South Side railroad west of Petersburg, thence on to Sutherland Station, reaching there at 9 P.M., Wednesday, March 29, and going forward through an all night's rain, arriving at the White Oak road at dawn, where a portion of General Bushrod Johnson's division was in line of battle, with a brisk skirmish progressing in front. Three brigades of Pickett's division, Corse's, Stuart's and Terry's, with Ransom's and Wallace's—the last two now consolidated under General Ransom—extended the battle line of Johnson's division to the right. Here we remained until the middle of the afternoon, a heavy rain falling during the greater part of the time, our skirmishers having an occasional brush with the enemy. The column then moved forward along the road in the direction of Five Forks, skirmishing front and flank, reaching the Forks at sunset; without halting, Corse's brigade, and the 1st and 7th regiments of Terry's, advanced, driving the dismounted cavalry of the enemy through and out of the woods and across the open country beyond; then returning to the Forks, lay down under a pelting rain upon the wet ground until morning, thus in line ready to fight or march.

It was 10 A.M., Friday, March 31, that the advance began in the direction of Dinwiddie Court House, the cavalry in our front fighting at every step, crossing Chamberlain Run, and being driven back, as the infantry was unable to afford them help on account of the swollen condition of the stream. Finally, at the remains of an old mill on the Run, the infantry succeeded in getting over, in the face of a sharp fire from the enemy, with whom, as soon as across the stream, we kept up a running fight until near sunset. When near the Court House we encountered a large body of the enemy's dismounted cavalry formed across the road prepared to oppose our further advance. A Federal battery of artillery in their center commanded the ground over which the advance had to be made, but we made a successful charge, sweeping the field, the enemy retiring in confusion, leaving their dead and wounded, we occupying the battlefield until nearly 1 o'clock next morning.

In this engagement, known as the battle of Dinwiddie, the famous cavalry officer, General Phil Sheridan, with all his brag, was scared out of his boots—calling that night on General Grant for an army corps of infantry to help him out of the scrape, although he already had more men on the field than the Confederates who were assailing him.