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Recollections of Cedar Creek and Fisher's Hill, October 19th, 1864.

[See article by Captain Samuel D. Buck, Ante p. 104.]

I have just read Captain S. D. Buck's account of the Cedar Creek fight. I was there. I wish he could have described the conduct of [372] General Early's Indian orderly, who seemed to have gone wild when we broke the enemy's front and everything was stampeding. That Indian rode pell-mell into the fleeing Yankees, driving them to the rear, when one of them, bolder and cooler than the rest, after he had thrown down his gun and started to the rear, seeing the Indian pass on, deliberately wheeled, picked up his gun and shot the Indian dead.

My battalion was located on and to the right of the turnpike. At our final stand, when Sheridan made his attack and broke Gordon and then pressed down on Ramseur, I fought them with the guns I had on the pike until the two battle lines seemed to close together in deadly strife. Poor General Ramseur was there mortally wounded in that terrible strife.

My bugler asked me to let him go down and cross the creek and wait for me. I consented to this, but I never saw him again, though diligent search was made for him.

When I crossed the creek the Yankee cavalry had crossed above and captured two guns which I had placed in position to cover our crossing. When the last of the infantry broke, I retired with them, and came up with ‘Old Jubal’—some three or four hundred yards west of the creek—trying to rally his men on the road. Finding himself helpless, for his men would listen to nothing, in his desperation he bawled out: ‘Run, run; G— d— you, they will get you!’ Passing over the hill, in rear of my guns, just before we struck the broken bridge, I heard the Yankee bugle sound the charge, and down upon us swept a squadron of cavalry. I rode into the bushes and let them pass. On they pressed to the broken bridge, where they found Captain Hardwicke, who had just passed his battery over. They rode up to the Captain and cried ‘Halt.’ The Captain, one of those impulsive men, and not knowing that they were Yankees, called out: ‘D— you, what are you halting me for?’ The Yank replied, with his pistol right in the Captain's face, who, discovering his mistake, bade the Yank good-night.

I was also at Fisher's Hill when the Yankees pressed me so hard that they caught Lieutenant Spalding, of Cooper's Battery, with a caisson, and where poor Sandy Pendleton, of Early's staff was shot. He had collected about one hundred men, covering my flank, to let me out.

M. N. Moorman, Major Stuart Horse Artillery Battalion. Lynchburg, Va., February 9, 1903.

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