John Lemon,
Quartermaster, 13th
Res.,
in: Raftman’s Journal.
“To
D.J.
“Since
I last wrote you we have moved twice. We were only three days at
“Yesterday
the greater part of the Raftman’s Rangers and a number of the Buck Tails, under Capt. E.A. Irvin, were
out on a scout a few miles distant from our camp. They came in contact with
double their number of rebels, and immediately attacked them. Our boys did not
lose a man, but gallantly repulsed and dispersed them, making eight of the
villains bite the dust. First-Sergeant Patton Bard,
shot the Rebel Lieutenant dead and captured his horse.
“Capt.
Irvin is spoken of in the highest terms by all concerned for his coolness and
bravery in the battle. He made a narrow escape, a musket ball having passed
within inches of his head, and entered the wall of the house near which he was
standing. The boys were in fine spirits when they returned, but presented a
pretty rough appearance. Their faces were dark and flushed, and nearly every
one had some little of the spoils. Capt. Irvin showed me a bunch [of] papers
taken from the fallen Lieutenant, of whom he spoke as a brave man. The papers
consisted of his commission, letters, orders, and other documents. They were
all stained with his blood. One of the boys had a sword with which the
secessionists killed a man named Kelly who came with us from
“Three
of the Raftman’s Rangers rode fine looking horses into
camp to-night, that they had captured. One of our
scouts who was in Mexican War, took the gold rings
from the Lieutenant’s fingers and put them on his own. I don’t think any of our
boys would have done it, but it is hard to tell, for war seems to change their
whole nature.
“Our
men are in great favor with Lieut. Col. Kane who is now commanding them in
their scouting expeditions. He says they are just the boys for the work and he
is going to keep them at it.
“Our
camp is right on the Baltimore & Ohio
Railroad, one mile from where the Bridge was burned a few days since. We
have a train of freight cars and two engines, which we use in the Commissary
department. I am writing this letter in a freight car in which I rode to
“Yours
truly,
John
Lemon.”
[RJ: