About ten o’clock on the morning of the 28th, Ewell’s division was ordered to move on the York River Railroad, and destroy it at Dispatch Station. As we advanced the enemy set fire to his stores to prevent them falling into our hands. Vast quantities were captured, however, and for many days we lived on desiccated vegetables, and indulged in an occasional cup of coffee. But little resistance was offered our advance, under General J. E. B. Stuart, and without the loss of a man we reached our destination about three o’clock in the afternoon. Working parties were at once detailed from the various regiments, and set to work tearing up the track. Whilst thus engaged, General Ewell and staff went out to reconnoitre, but presently returned at full speed. Riding up to Colonel Johnson, he directed that officer to send some men to “drive those fellows off who had given him chase.” I was ordered to take a dozen men of my company, and the Colonel prepared to accompany me. After crossing a ravine by a narrow path I came into a large open space, when to my surprise, not over a hundred yards in front of me, I observed a mounted officer and two attendants. Commanding my men in a low voice to make no demonstration, we walked quietly towards them. Not to be caught in this way, however, they wheeled their horses and slowly rode off. Being in advance of my men, and seeing they were about to escape me, I levelled my Mississippi, which I invariably carried on such occasions, and fired. The shot was hastily aimed, and instead of taking effect upon the officer, for whom it was intended, it struck the man behind him, who, raising himself convulsively in his saddle, fell forward on his horse’s neck, and would have rolled to the ground had he not been caught and held by one of his companions. My men then fired, but without effect. At this instant Colonel Johnson, who had not yet overtaken us, dashed through the woods, exclaiming as he approached: “Look to your left, Captain, look to your left!” I did so, and what was my surprise to behold a heavy column of cavalry drawn up but a short way off, and apparently deliberating whether to charge or retire. I was in a bad scrape. A half mile from the main body, with a dozen men, and they, too, with unloaded guns. For a moment I thought I was gone; but Colonel Johnson, whose presence of mind never forsook him in the midst of the most trying difficulties, wheeled his horse towards the woods and cried at the top of his voice: “Come on, my brave men, here we have a whole regiment of them!” This had the desired effect, and the gallant troopers went off like the wind, nor did they stop until they had ridden a mile, when again halting they drew up in line.