To the Members of the Thirty-Fifth Virginia Cavalry:
The following pages have been prepared under many and great difficulties, and while they exhibit the history of the command we were so proud of in the dark days of the war for States Rights and the old Constitution, they are very far from presenting a full history of our Battalion.
Almost all the papers relating to the operations of the “Comanches,” whether belonging to the field and staff or to company officers, were lost at the surrender of the army, in consequence of which I have been compelled to draw nearly all that is recorded from my own memory, assisted materially by Col. White, in the account of the “battle of Brandy Station,” and of the raids in Fairfax and Loudoun in 1863.
To Mr. John O. Crown I am under obligations for the use of his MSS., giving an account of the operations in the autumn of 1862, and of the last winter of the war, and to Lieuts. J. R. Crown and E. J. Chiswell for much that is interesting in the history of Company B; to the former especially, for a report of his fight with Cole’s battalion in Maryland, and of his capture by the same command in 1863.
The lists of killed and wounded for Company B were prepared by Lieut. Chiswell; for Company C, by Capt. Dowdell; for Company E, Lieut. Strickler, and for Company A, by myself.
From Company F, I regret exceedingly that I have not been able to obtain any information whatever.
As for the manner of the work, while I am free to confess that the story is by no means well told, yet, the men of the Battalion who, by education and talent, were well qualified for the task of preparing it, would not, and it has thus fallen to my lot to write this history; and, such as it is, I submit it to your judgment for approval or not, as you may decide; but among its faults I claim that violations of the "historian’s religion"—truth—will not be 6laid to its charge; and the thoughts, feelings, and impressions, unbiassed by the warpings of after events, have been presented as far as possible.
It is a story altogether of the past, and, as soldiers of the “Lost Cause,” we have nothing to do with the efforts of politicians, North or South, to galvanize the Confederacy into spasmodic action, and then cry—
"There’s life in the old land yet."
There is no attempt either to conceal or parade the grief we, as Confederate soldiers, felt at the furling of the “conquered banner.”
“For though conquered, we adore it,
Love the cold, dead hands that bore it.”
But while we do love so dearly the battle-flag of “Dixie,” we regard it only as the emblem of the “storm-cradled nation that fell,” and as the winding-sheet of its dead and buried glory, over whose gloomy tomb the brave, true-hearted men of the southland have raised a monument of noble deeds, which will defy malice, oppression, and time.
We know that the Southern Confederacy is dead, and all its mourning lovers ask is permission to bury their dead reverently.
“Hushed is the roll of the Rebel drum,
The sabres are sheathed, and the cannon are dumb,
And fate with pitiless hand has furled,
The flag that once challenged the gaze of the world.”
But the fame of its soldiers deserves to live on the pages of history, and, if I have aided in rescuing from oblivion the story of the gallant deeds performed by the men that followed Col. Elijah V. White through the bloody years of that desolating war, I am satisfied.