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left in charge of the picket lines of the brigade front, with orders to hold them against any attack that might be made until 3 o'clock in the morning, and then, if not captured by the enemy, to rejoin the column then rapidly retreating towards Chesterfield Courthouse. The suspense and responsibility attending this midnight work during a continuous picket- firing at short range can never be fully appre- ciated by anyone not in a similar position. Yet I personally with- drew every picket and vidette, and rejoined the command about twelve hours afterwards, much to the surprised pleasure of my brigade commander, who said he feared he had seen me for the last time.
A LONG AND WEARY MARCH.
The long and weary march to Appomattox Courthouse is familiar to many, and known of by all and was without any special incident to the corps until the 7th of April, 1865, where, within two miles of Farmville, we fought our last fight, and, I believe, with greater des- peration than at any time previously. In this engagement the
GALLANT CATAIN HUNTER,
who had commanded the company from the Forty-first Regiment (I think) from the organization of the battalion, and who had never been hurt before, was instantly killed by a fragment of shell fired by one of our own batteries. It has been my object in this recital from memory to give only the generalities of the movements and conduct of the sharpshooters as a corps. A narration of the many instances of personal daring of individual members would almost necessitate a biographical sketch of each, hence, I have avoided any special references, but not because they do not each deserve it, for when the handful of the corps left Appomattox Courthouse to return to the places, once their homes, they represented all that was left of the 1 80 men who were always regarded as the flower of the brigade.
