CHAPTER III.
In a day or two after the return of the First Maryland to the Valley, it was ordered to join the remainder of the “Line,” then encamped at Fisher’s Hill. A short time after, this force was augmented by the arrival of General Albert G. Jenkins, with a fine brigade of Virginia cavalry, and he assumed command of the whole.
Here, for several days, the battalion was quietly employed in doing picket duty, and recruiting man and horse for the campaign that seemed about to be inaugurated. Not an incident of moment occurred, and in a week’s time the command was again ready for the field.
On the 12th of June information was received that the enemy were advancing towards our camp, which had been moved up to Cedar Creek. The infantry and artillery were marched to the vicinity of Middletown, and placed in position, whilst General Jenkins held his cavalry in readiness. After waiting some time, and there being no signs of our pickets (which had just been relieved, and those relieved not yet returned,) falling back, it was naturally concluded the force of the enemy had been greatly exaggerated. Having arrived at this conclusion, General Jenkins was about to order his troops back to camp, when he was startled by the rattle of small arms and the discharge of artillery, some four miles up the road. It was not long before we were made aware of the cause, which I will give the reader as told me by several of the officers and men engaged.
The company from the First Maryland relieved was that of Captain Wm. I. Raisin, which, along with a company from Jenkins’ cavalry, that had also just been relieved, was about to return to camp, when a body of the enemy’s cavalry were observed coming down the turnpike towards them. Information of the fact was immediately sent by Captain Raisin to General Jenkins, who disposed of his troops as before stated. In the meantime, Colonel Harry Gilmor, (who had been sick in bed for several days at Middletown,) hearing of their approach, got up and joined Raisin. For some time that officer manœuvered with the enemy, who fell back as he slowly advanced. Finally, the men, who had become impatient, commenced to move forward at a rapid trot, which the next instant became a gallop, and then a headlong charge, which Raisin’s utmost efforts failed to arrest before the whole command was in the midst of a large body of infantry, in ambuscade, which opened upon them with deadly effect, as did two pieces of artillery. In the greatest confusion the survivors wheeled about, leaving four of their comrades killed and about thirty wounded and prisoners in the hands of the enemy. Among the latter was Captain Raisin, who, whilst bleeding and senseless under his dying horse, was most inhumanly beaten by the wretches into whose hands he had fallen.
I have thus gone into the particulars of this affair for the reason that Colonel Gilmor, in his “Four Years in the Saddle,” asserts that Captain Raisin gave the command to charge, contrary to his (Gilmor’s) judgment, which I believe is doing him injustice, and reflects upon his reputation as an officer. More than one who was close by assure me that he did not, and that it occurred as above stated.
A reason I have for thinking Colonel Gilmor is mistaken in this matter, is the fact that not one week before, whilst in command at Fisher’s Hill, during the absence of Colonel Herbert, and before the arrival of General Jenkins, I had taken Captain Raisin, with his company, and two companies of infantry to lay in ambush, on precisely such an expedition, though unsuccessful, by reason of the enemy not making their appearance, and upon which occasion I cautioned him not to allow them to catch him in a similar trap. Now, it is not likely that an intelligent man like Captain Raisin would so soon have forgotten the expedition and caution of but a week before.
An incident that I am reminded of would lead me to believe that if an order to charge was given, it was given by Harry himself. A few minutes after the affair, I met one of Jenkins’ men by the roadside, lamenting the wounding of a valuable horse, which he was leading. “This is a pretty bad piece of business,” I remarked.
“Y-a-s,” he drawled out, “and may I be darned ef I’m goin’ to foller that thar feller with the spang new yaller clothes any more.”
Harry had just donned a new uniform, mounted with a superabundance of yellow lace.