increased, the clouds of dust from the road causing an intermingling
of friend and foe. In a little while the affair grew most ludicrous,
Faulkner's hatless and coatless men taking to the woods in such
dispersed order and so demoralized that a good many prisoners were
secured, and those of the enemy who escaped were hunted until dark.
When the recall was sounded, our men came in loaded down with plunder
in the shape of hats, haversacks, blankets, pistols, and shotguns, in
a quantity which amply repaid for the surprise of the morning, but
did not excuse the delinquent commander of our picket-guard, who a
few days later was brought to a realizing sense of his duty by a
court-martial.

Shortly after this affair Captain Archibald P. Campbell, of the
Second Michigan Cavalry, presented me with the black horse called
Rienzi, since made historical from having been ridden by me in many
battles, conspicuously in the ride from Winchester to Cedar Creek,
which has been celebrated in the poem by T. Buchanan Read. This
horse was of Morgan stock, and then about three years old. He was
jet black, excepting three white feet, sixteen hands high, and
strongly built, with great powers of endurance. He was so active
that he could cover with ease five miles an hour at his natural
walking gait. The gelding had been ridden very seldom; in fact,
Campbell had been unaccustomed to riding till the war broke out, and,
I think, felt some disinclination to mount the fiery colt. Campbell
had an affection for him, however, that never waned, and would often
come to my headquarters to see his favorite, the colt being cared for
there by the regimental farrier, an old man named John Ashley, who
had taken him in charge when leaving Michigan, and had been his groom
ever since. Seeing that I liked the horse--I had ridden him on
several occasions--Campbell presented him to me on one of these