were murdered in cold blood. That raid was known as the "Apple-Jack Raid."

During the month of January, 1865, my regiment was doing picket duty on the left and rear of our main lines. One day, noticing a number of hogs running loose in the woods in our front, I gave permission for some of the men to go out and kill them. Soon afterwards one of the videttes sent in word that two of the men were captured by the rebels. I quickly mounted a squadron and went off at a gallop, knowing well that there was but one place where the rebels could cross the stream below Lee's mill, we being on the inside circuit. I pushed rapidly for that point. Upon our arrival I noticed a few fresh tracks of horses that had crossed towards us, but had not returned. I then made preparations for the arrival of the squad with their prisoners. We waited perhaps half an hour, when the squad came in view with their two prisoners, each carrying a dead hog. The poor fellows were staggering under their heavy loads, and their captors were twitting them about being pork butchers. My men were entirely concealed on either side of the stream. We remained quiet until the whole party had reached the middle between the banks, when I gave the signal to my men to arise and cover the party with their carbines. It was like a dramatic tableau to witness the look of consternation upon the faces of the party, for there was no escape for them. As for the two butchers, it was laughable to look at them. They began looking around to ascertain if it was fun or earnest, when they espied me, and both hogs dropped from their shoulders into the water, and the two men fell against the bank, yelling for us to give their captors a volley. I then ordered the rebels to advance one at a time, dismount, and take off their arms. I asked my two men who it was that had suggested that they should carry the hogs, and they pointed to the sergeant and one other man. These two were ordered to pick up the pork and move back, under charge of the two that were recaptured, to the picket reserve. As the command was moving out for the return, some wag in the squadron remarked to the rebel sergeant, "How do you like that for a movement by inversion?"

In the month of March an order came from general head-quarters directing me to take my regiment, with a trusted scout, and proceed to the head of the Blackwater Swamp, when we would find a body of marauders composed of deserters from both armies. These men had been murdering our pickets nightly for what plunder they could get from the dead bodies. My orders were to destroy these scoundrels. The orders were carried out to the very letter.

On my return to camp, after six days and nights of hard marching, a leave of absence for ten days was sent me without application on my part. I took advantage of the furlough and went home. Upon my arrival there, I found awaiting me a personal telegram from General Sheridan, who had rejoined the Army of the Potomac that same morning with the other two divisions of the cavalry corps, having marched overland from the head of the Shenandoah Valley. This dispatch directed me to take the first train and come to the front as rapidly as possible, and upon my arrival at City Point to assume command of all the newly-remounted men there and join my division on the march. Though I had just arrived home I obeyed the order and took the first train for Washington, went directly to the War Department, showed my dispatch, and was at once sent to Annapolis on a special engine. I then took a dispatch-boat in company with Colonel Comstock, of General Grant's staff, arrived at City Point on the morning of the 31st of March, and joined our division at Dinwiddie Court-House in time to take part in the engagement of that day.

The next day came the battle of Five Forks. Here Sheridan threw his whole cavalry corps upon the enemy, with the exception of my brigade. As for my own regiment, we had all the fighting we wanted in keeping the enemy from getting around on Sheridan's left and rear. In this battle whole brigades went into action mounted and dismounted, the mounted men dashing over breastworks as though they were mere piles of dirt, and capturing prisoners by the thousand. While in conversation with General W. H. F. Lee, who was taken prisoner, he told me that he was in the act of sighting a cannon to sweep along that portion of the works where the Fifth Corps were piling over when he heard a voice saying, "Surrender, you rebel son of a gun!" and looking up there he saw one of our cavalrymen astride a mule, with his revolver between the mule's ears, reaching over in the act of pulling trigger. In a few seconds the earth-work was filled with our mounted cavalry. The much-abused army mule, after all, was of some service besides hauling heavy loads.

On the following day, April 2, our cavalry struck the South Side Railroad and continued in pursuit of Lee's retreating army. Richmond and Petersburg fell on the 3d, and these good tidings seemed to give new life to both men and horses. On we pressed until we reached Jetersville, on the Danville Railroad, on April 4. About one o'clock that night, as we lay to horse, the First Pennsylvania Cavalry was ordered to mount and report to General Sheridan at once. Under Sheridan's fly I found General Crook (who was now in command of Gregg's old division) and General Davies looking over a map. I was shown the position where the enemy were supposed to be, near Amelia Court-House, and was instructed to proceed with my regiment about two or three miles in advance of our brigade, press through all small detachments, and attack the enemy's wagon-train at daylight. We reached some high ground just as the sun was rising, and below at our feet lay the whole rebel army in line of battle, apparently sound asleep. It was a beautiful sight to look upon. Here instructions were given to the men that when the charge was sounded by the bugles they should yell like demons and tell all the rebels they met, particularly the officers, that Sheridan and all his cavalry corps were upon them. This regiment with its three hundred veterans charged through a number of outlying commands, destroying about three hundred wagons, cutting out twelve hundred head of horses and mules, capturing eight hundred prisoners, eleven rebel battle-flags, and a bright, new spick-and-span battery of Armstrong field-guns, which shortly before had been presented by the ladies of Liverpool to the corporation of the city of Richmond. We held our ground and captures until General Davies came to our relief, which he did very promptly.

Let me relate an amusing incident. Between daylight and sunrise I observed a body of rebel cavalry holding Paines' Cross-Roads. In a house by the roadside there resided an Episcopal clergyman. The gentleman came out, stood at his gate, and looked first at us, then at his friends. He had a gold watch in his hand, as though looking at the time of day. I ordered two squadrons to charge the rebels and clear the road, and while they were performing that duty we advanced the balance of the command, halting in front of our religious friend, when the following conversation took place: "Good-morning." "Good-morning, sir." "You are the first live Yankee cavalry commander I have seen since the war commenced." My reply was, "Then you are not a pupil of General Hooker's." He laughingly said "No," and then he asked, hearing the firing of the small-arms of the charging squadrons, "Are you going to have a battle here? If so, how long will it last?" My reply was, "No, sir; we will move on." I then asked him why he kept his watch in his hand. His reply was, "I thought I would time you to find out how soon you would be driven off the sacred soil of the immortal Washington." I moved away, smiling at the old rector's loyalty to the Father of his Country, when I heard a scuffle behind me. Upon looking around I observed my own orderly seizing the watch and saying, "We will tell you the time when the Johnnies stop running." Then he dashed away before I could stop him to return the stolen watch.

All of our captures from