It appears that the Lieutenant, who could never be induced to don a uniform or ride a fast horse, finding himself hard pressed in the general rout, quietly dropped off unperceived, and concealed himself in a strip of woods that skirted the roadside. The pursuers passed by without observing him, and he began to congratulate himself upon his narrow escape, when unfortunately two or three straggling troopers stumbled upon his place of concealment. It was instantly suggested to him to pass himself off as a farmer of the neighborhood, and his appearance and dress indicated as much. To an inquiry of one of the Yankee soldiers as to “what he was doing there?” he replied that “a fight had taken place on his farm between their fellows and some Rebs, and he had sought the woods for safety.”
The party believed it, and in company they rode down to the scene of conflict, when the first object that met his gaze was one of his own men sitting in a fence corner, severely wounded. Forgetting himself, and the enemy with him, and yielding to the impulses of his generous nature, he threw himself from his horse, and advancing to the side of the suffering man called him by name, and inquired if he was much hurt.
“Pretty badly, Lieutenant,” was the reply, and the next minute he found himself seized, and a prisoner in the hands of his late companions.
“Lieutenant, ah!” exclaimed one of them, in utter amazement, and glancing first at rider and then at horse, “well, I must say that some of you Reb officers do beat the devil on a make-up!”
CHAPTER VII.
For the next few days the battalion was engaged in skirmishing about Hanover Court House, the enemy occupying them there whilst his columns were crossing at Dabney’s Ferry, and pressing on towards Richmond.
On the 1st of June, the enemy moved on the South Anna bridges, Johnson’s small command of one hundred and fifty sabres and Griffith’s battery contesting every foot of ground, in a fight from daylight until two o’clock in the afternoon, when they were driven back by a brigade of the enemy’s cavalry.
It now becomes my painful duty to record the death of one of the best and purest of men, Lieutenant Colonel Ridgely Brown, who in the day’s fight was struck in the head by a stray ball and instantly killed. The death of this good and generous man was a sad blow to his little command, by whom he was almost idolized, and Johnson lost an officer who had been invaluable to him, for to his sound judgment and advice he was much indebted for his success in the affair with Kilpatrick.
In a General Order issued on the 6th of June, Colonel Johnson thus speaks of his death:
Headquarters Maryland Line, }