I had proceeded but a short distance in the woods when I was halted with the demand, “Who comes there?” I knew from the tone and accent it was none of our people. I said, “Come here.” Walking close up to me I asked, “Who are you?” to which he replied, “New York Tammany regiment.” I said to him, “You are my prisoner, surrender,” but he was made of better metal, and stepping back a pace, with leveled rifle and bayonet presented, he exclaimed, “Never to any man,” and almost before the words were pronounced I pulled my trigger, but the pistol failed to fire, and then, but for the fact that I had captured from one of Lincoln’s bodyguards this very pistol, which could be fired almost as rapidly as counting, I would not now be telling this story, because that brave, cool Tammany man would have killed me, for he was in the act of doing so when I pulled off my pistol again and he fell to the ground a corpse. His comrade fired, but missed, and lying down by the dead man I eagerly listened for further demonstration, but hearing none I crept back to Captain Carter. We consulted for some time, finally reaching two conclusions—FIRST, that there was no organized force in the woods, else they would have manifested their presence; and SECOND, that this particular body of woods was at that time a most excellent place in which to get killed by the scattered Federals in hiding, assuming that this gallant Tammany man was a sample of them, and we reported promptly to Colonel Hunton, who ordered me to remain with Lieutenant Charles Berkeley, who, with a detail of seventeen men, had been instructed to picket the ground during the night. The ladies of Leesburg sent us a most bountiful supper, which was most highly appreciated by our hungry soldiers, who for thirteen hours had been resisting and defending greatly superior numbers of brave but badly handled Federal troops, beginning at 7 o’clock in the morning and ending after dark. Except Lieutenant Berkeley’s little party all our forces had retired to the vicinity of the Fort for rest and rations, and we took up our solemn vigil over the “dark and bloody ground.” It was presently suggested that we go to the river, for although our battle had rolled to the very edge of the Bluff, none of our people had been quite there. We moved quietly along in the dark, soon coming on two men sitting beside a woods, and we crossed over, where we left one man as guard and passed on, finding next a handsomely caparisoned horse entangled in the thicket, which we concluded to be the one ridden by General Baker, and this we sent back by another of our men.