A Confederate survivor who led a Federal charge.
Major J. W. McClung, of
San Francisco, tells a
Globe-Democrat correspondent: I think I am the only survivor of the
Confederacy who led a Federal charge.
This singular thing I did, and here's how it was: It was at the battle of
Selma.
I was carrying orders and had to pass straight through the town.
It was terribly hot and I had my coat off. We had captured a wagon train a few days before, and out of the spoils I had appropriated a brand new Federal cavalry hat, so I did not look unlike a Yankee officer.
In the main street of
Selma I met an aid named
Brown—a gallant fellow.
He shouted to me that our line had been broken and that
Armstrong was falling back, and told me to get out or I'd be taken.
Just then
Armstrong and his staff galloped past, and the general recognizing us, called out: ‘You must hurry out of this, gentlemen.
They are close on our heels.’
Brown had a dispatch for
Colonel Johnson, and he said he would wait and deliver it if he died for it. While we were talking, pistols in hand, a column of Federal cavalry swung into the street where we stood, coming full tilt.
We were so taken by surprise that we could not get away.
Brown had on a new uniform that had just run the blockade, and he was a good target.
Half a dozen troopers dashed out from the line to catch him.
We were riding for our lives,
Brown a little in the lead, so that it looked as though I was chasing him. The pursuers passed me and overhauled
Brown, and I caught a glimpse of him as I passed, down on his back working his revolver, with a group of the enemy about him, all shooting down at him and cutting at him with their sabers.
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By this time I was at the head of the column, which had not slackened its mad pace.
For at least a mile I rode at their head, exchanging remarks about the retreat of the ‘Rebs,’ and joining in the cries of ‘Hurry; let's catch
Armstrong.’
As we came to a side street that ran right down to the river, I dashed out and swerved sharply, and then I rode for dear life.
In a second they were after me, and the bullets sang all around me.
I never halted, but plunged off a low pier into the water, and swam straight across to where our people were trying to form a new front.
The water was torn by a perfect rain of bullets, but I was not scratched, and my horse was only slightly wounded.
I would like much to know the name of my Federal commander.