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under a tree on top of a high hill.
I rode up, saluted, and asked is this General Jackson.
On receiving an affirmative reply, I told him I was the officer in charge of the picket at Halltown; had received order from him to report at once.
His first question was, ‘What is your rank?’
(I had no marks on me, in fact, had no coat on). My reply was: ‘1st Lieutenant, Company B, 2nd Virginia Cavalry.’
‘How many men have you in picket with you?
’ ‘Thirty,’ I replied.
‘Are you acquainted with the country?’
‘Never was here until last night,’ was my reply.
He expressed no surprise at there being no one on duty that night on picket before I came.
After a moment or two he told me to go back to Halltown to take a man with me and make a reconnaissance to the left of the Federal picket, going through a farm road up a rather steep hill (this hill was out of view of the Federal picket at the railroad crossing), not to threaten the picket, but watch closely, and to return to him and report what I saw.
