oad they had come, towards Leesburg.
Our flying artillery, under the intrepid and energetic John Pelham, whom I have so often had occasion to mention in these memoirs, had, as usual, done admirable service, disabling several of the enemy's guns, and contributing greatly, by the terror it carried into their advancing columns, to the final result.
The famous Stuart horse artillery was made up of volunteers of many nationalities, and embraced Englishmen, Frenchmen, Germans, Spainards, and Americans.
Many of these men had not brought to the standard under which they served an immaculate reputation, but they distinguished themselves on every field of battle, and established such an enviable character for daring and good conduct that the body was soon regarded as a corps daelite by the whole army, and it came to be considered an honour to be one of them.
I have often seen these men serving their pieces in the hottest of the fight, laughing, singing, and joking each other, utterly rega