Reminiscences of a Private Part 2

Col. Hagood was only nineteen years old when he was appointed colonel.

After being at Rodgersville only a few days we were carried on a forced march to McBean Station, where the enemy had nearly succeeded in getting in our rear. We again put them on the run and the army then headed for Morristown, where they went into winter quarters. Our brigade, however, was sent out at Rodgersville on a foraging expedition to report to the army at Morristown. We were on this expedition for nearly two weeks, having all the wagons of Longstreet's Corps to fill up. We had quite a good time while on this detached service, so far as eating was concerned. While the officers were doing their work in a big way, we fellows were doing ours in a much smaller way; and many a chicken, turkey, goose, pig, went into our private haversacks.

Jim Diamond, of Barnwell, was at that time a wagon driver. One night he told me to come with him next morning, that we could take a mule apiece and put in a good day; that he had seen some nice geese about four miles off and we would try for them. I went next morning and we jumped on a mule apiece, I bareback. Jim headed the way to where he knew the geese were. He was prepared himself, and before reaching the place he instructed me to follow and ask no questions. On riding up to the farm house, the old lady of the house came out to talk to us. We tried to get something to eat from her, but she wanted _money_. This country was nearly all Unionist and bushwhackers. Having no money, we failed to outtalk her, and, as the geese were out on the front, we decided to start. Jim had a fishing line, and as we rode by the geese he baited his hook with a grain of corn and threw it down near an old gander, who immediately gobbled it up. Jim tightened on his line and found he had him hooked. We started off then in a slow trot, and as Jim commenced to pull the gander commenced to pull too. Jim held his hold and the old fellow came flopping behind with his wings outstretched, looking as if he was showing fight. The balance of the drove fell in behind the old gander, and away we went. The old woman looked on in utter amazement and cried out to us, "Don't run; he can't hurt you," but running right then was our idea, and, after getting them all down the road in a kind of a bottom, I held the line and Jim jumped down and with a stick killed six of as fine, fat geese as were ever raised. After visiting a place or two where we _did_ manage to get some meal and flour and salt, talking the people out of it, we concluded to get back--had enough for one day. We were right good with our supply, giving the men in the company four of the geese. The other two we cooked and invited Col. Hagood, Col.

Kirkland, Dr. Bellinger and Capt. Wood to take supper with us. We had a big supper about 1 o'clock at night, but the lateness of the hour did not interfere with any one's appet.i.te.

As soon as we got our wagon train all loaded we headed out for Morristown to take things into the then hungry army, and right glad were they to see us and our train all laden down. This was just before Christmas, and we had enough to put us up a good Christmas dinner, after adding to it in private foraging parties. On Christmas Eve a couple of our company went out and on returning some time during the night they brought in a bee hive wrapped up in a blanket. Next morning they knocked off the head and took out the honey. At that time the bees were cold and not much trouble, but towards the middle of the day, the sun shining brightly, they warmed up, and there was a mess. The bees took the camp and many a fellow got a good stinging.

It was announced here at our winter quarters that all those who had not been home should have a chance for a furlough--so many men to one furlough. Our regiment was ent.i.tled to only one, and there were but three who had not been home; there were myself, who had no family at home; Hughes, from Bamberg, who had a wife and children whom he had not seen since he left them in May, 1861, and one other in the same fix as Hughes. I never saw people so excited over the drawing as the other two.

As for myself, I did not care much. Hughes was the most anxious man I ever saw. The papers were put in a hat, one marked "furlough," the other two blank. Hughes drew first--got a blank. The other fellow drew; he, too, got a blank, leaving the paper marked "furlough" in the hat for me.

These two good old soldiers actually cried. They could fight, march naked and barefoot, do without something to eat--all without a murmur.

But being so near to getting a furlough and then to miss, it was too much. _I could not stand it._ So I told them to put two papers in the hat, one blank and one "furlough;" I would give my privilege away. This was done and these two prepared to draw. By this time everybody was excited over the event and a big crowd had gathered to see the result.

As Hughes had drawn first before, it was decided that the other fellow should do so this time. He put his hand forward to go into the hat. His hand was shaking and he was excited to death. Hughes, poor fellow, stood looking on. He was a pitiful sight. He could hardly stand up--his legs were shaking. Despair was depicted on his face. The hand already forward went down into the hat and slowly out it came. I believe both men had their eyes shut. Some one read, "furlough." _Hughes had again lost._ It was pitiful to see him, but the other fellow was happy. It was strange that Hughes never did get home till after the surrender.

CHAPTER VII.

We are now in winter quarters near Morristown in the coldest country and the wettest country I ever saw. Fortunately, we have tents plenty, wood abundant and a good country to get something to eat. It is too cold and wet to drill, therefore, we have nothing to do but rest up, patch our old clothes as best we can, and our barefoot boys resort to the method of tying up their feet in pieces of blankets, making a kind of moccasin.

Were we properly clothed and shod we would be comparatively comfortable.

This East Tennessee country is a fine country for hogs, cattle, eggs, chickens, flour, meal, bee-gums and maple syrup. We are certainly on the go, hunting and finding some of all these things, but as I am one of those who are totally without a covering to my feet and my breeches are too far gone to even take a patch, I cannot get out much. But Jim Diamond is as good as ever hunting up these things, and our mess has a plenty to eat. He even sometimes comes in with a little applejack, and then we have a "jollification" sure enough. Col. Hagood and Capt. Wood have about joined our mess for good. They having a negro boy cook, each one generally goes out with Jim, while the other remains and cooks, and the colonel and captain have some money--we have none. We could not very well refuse to take them in with us.

We had not been here more than three weeks when we heard some fighting going on down on Strawberry Plains, thirteen miles off. Our cavalry had run up on a lot of moving Yankee infantry and had attacked them. We were called out and formed line of march. This was bitter cold weather and this was a hard march on us, especially those of us who were barefoot, among whom I was one. We barefoot fellows wrapped up our feet the best we could and fell in with the balance. The woods were full of water from the rains and were so hard frozen that the ice did not break with the weight of the horses. We hurriedly arrived near the fighting, and, just on the edge of the plain in which the fight was going on, and in a thick woods, all the barefoot men were ordered to fall out and make fires. It was only a short way to the firing, and, instead of "falling out," I had an eye for the future. We went into the open fields in a double quick line of battle. The enemy fell back as we advanced. We had not gone more than a couple of hundred yards before we ran over some dead Yankees.

Here was my opportunity, and I embraced it. The first one I got to I stopped, pulled off his pants, shoes and stockings, got right into them, there and then. The shoes were new and fit perfectly; the stockings were good wool and came up to my knees, and the pants were all right, except a little too long, but I rolled them up about as they are worn these days and they, too, were a fit. I felt _grand_. The fight was soon over, with no casualties on our side. We then started for our return trip and I felt very sorry for those poor barefoot devils who took the opportunity of stopping at a fire rather than go a little further and have the chance of "rigging out" in a good outfit. They had to take it back as they had come.

A few days after this a lady came into our camp and asked Col. Hagood for a guard to protect her place, saying she would feed us and sleep us.

I was sent in charge of the detail. Along with me was Jimmie Brabham, a son of Maj. J. J. Brabham, of Buford's Bridge. Maj. Brabham was, after the war, Clerk of the Court of Barnwell County for a good many years and was the first captain of Company C while around Charleston and the islands the first year of the war. We were sent out (Jim Brabham and myself) with the lady, who took us to her home about four miles from our camp. We were all afoot. When we got to her home we discovered that we were outside of our lines, about equi-distant between our lines and the Yankee lines, perhaps a mile from each. When I discovered this I determined to go back and give up the scheme, but the lady told me that she was Mrs. McDonald, the wife of a Yankee major, who was encamped not more than three miles off. It was he who sent her for a guard, and he told her to pledge our protection from the Yankees. Jim and I concluded to stay, and Mrs. McDonald a.s.signed us to a nice, warm room, good feather bed with plenty of warm covering. We remained here with her and her two children, a boy of about thirteen years and a girl, named Becky, about sixteen years, for thirty-eight days.

Mrs. McDonald was very kind to us. We had the biggest kind of oak fires in the sitting room all day, and the fires would be there through the entire night. We would go to bed usually at about ten o'clock. Only about two nights in the week Mrs. McDonald would say, "Go to bed earlier tonight, boys, the major is coming." He used to come home about two nights a week, but we never got to see him, nor did we care to see him.

Mrs. McDonald was a good cook, along with everything else, and she surely did feed us well on the best--princ.i.p.ally sausages and big hominy. Jim and I would go up on the side of the mountains with the little boy, his mule and slide, and help haul wood which was already cut. On one occasion Mrs. McDonald asked me to go to mill for her; the meal was out. She had the corn sh.e.l.led, and told me the mill was inside the Yankee lines, but the major had told the picket on duty at the mill not to molest me. Well, I decided that as they had been true to us in everything else, when they could have taken us any night, that there was no danger. So Jim helped me to get about three bushels of corn up on the mule, gave me "a leg," and then, getting direction, I pulled out for the mill. I found the mill at least two miles, or it seemed to me. As I rode on the end of the mill dam some half dozen Yankees came out of the mill house, all well armed. I could not but feel a little uneasy, but when I reached the house they bid me, "Good morning, Johnny." They helped me off and took in the sack of corn. We sat around in the sunshine and talked till the corn was ready, when they put it up on the mule and helped me up and bade me good-bye.

Near Mrs. McDonald's home were several other homes, and nearly every night we would have company in the persons of some young ladies who would spend the evenings, sometimes remaining till eleven or twelve o'clock. They would jump on poor Jim and me and give us the devil in a friendly way. They seemed to like us very much. I remember they had a song which they would sing us, something like this:

"Some near day you will hear the Yankees say, To old Jeff Davis, 'You had better get away, For we will raise the Union band, Make the Rebels understand, To leave our land Or submit to Abraham.'"

They would have a jolly time with us and we equally as jolly a time with them. To show how well the major took care of us from his people, we would even go home with the girls all hours of the night and were never disturbed. But this could not last forever, and the time came when we were called in; and two days after we struck camp and started again for Virginia. On pa.s.sing through Morristown I saw Mrs. McDonald, Becky and Tom and several of the young ladies who had been to visit us at the McDonalds, on a street corner. They had gone to town to see us off and bade us good-bye. They called us out of ranks and seemed real sorry to see us go. I have often thought of the good people and wondered if the major got through all right. I hope he did.

We kept on the move until we reached Bristol, Tenn., when we stopped a couple of days to rest up. After which we moved again and stopped a day or two at Chancellorsville, and then on to Gordonsville, where we were met by Gen. Lee and had a grand review by the grand old chieftain, who seemed as happy to have us back as we were to get back. Gen. Lee must have felt good in getting the welcome extended him by those who had been lost to him so long. The men hung around him and seemed satisfied to lay their hands on his gray horse or to touch the bridle, or the stirrup, or the old general's leg--anything that Lee had was sacred to us fellows who had just come back. _And the general._ He could not help from breaking down. Here were men who had gone forward at his command, knowing that they might never get out; here were men who had never murmured when Lee said, "Go!" or "Come." Here were men who had suffered privation, hunger, cold, _death itself_, whenever ordered by him. He could not help giving way, and tears traced down his cheeks, and he felt that we were again to do his bidding.

We stopped over here for several days and got a good many recruits, some sick and wounded returning to us, and some other men and boys, new men who had never yet seen service. Among these were old men--Walton Hair, Mathias Hair, from Elko; John William Canady, from Tinker Creek; W. F. Kitchen, Darios Ogden and Artist Woodward, from Williston, and Eddie Bellinger, from Barnwell, and Job Rountree, from Joyce's Branch--all these for Company E, Eddie Bellinger being the only young man, and he a mere youth. These new recruits, with some sick and wounded returning, made us a right respectable company once more. We needed another officer in our company, having only Capt. Wood and Lieut. d.i.c.k Best, from Allendale, so we held an election for lieutenant, and J.

Marshall Hair, of Williston, was elected.

After remaining here for perhaps two weeks, on the morning of the third day of May we took up our line of march and on the night of the fifth of May we stopped for the night within six miles of the Wilderness, having tramped sixty-odd miles in the two and a half days. When we stopped for the night we were pretty badly jaded and needed the night's rest. We had been hearing the musketry and cannonading nearly the entire day. This was kept up all night and we knew that we would be into the thickest of it early next morning, and, sure enough, we were put on the move just before day. We moved at a double quick and kept up the double quick for the entire six miles, when we reached the Wilderness and went directly into it.

CHAPTER VIII.

We struck the plank road at the Wilderness in a double quick just after sunrise and took down it towards the battle which had been going on furiously since just after midnight. Our regiment was on the extreme left of our brigade, which placed us in rear when marching in columns of four. Our company, Company E, was on the left of the regiment, this making our company the extreme left of Jenkins' Brigade. Just in rear of us was Bennings' Georgians, and the old general was on his gray horse in that slow gallop at the head of his brigade. Our division (Fields'

Division) was composed now of Hood's Texas Brigade, in front, Anderson's Georgia Brigade (Tige Anderson), Robertson's Alabama Brigade, Jenkins'

South Carolina Brigade and Bennings' Georgia Brigade (Rock Benning). The names of Tige Anderson and Rock Benning had been given these two brigadiers a long time back.

Hood, Anderson and Robertson had reached the Wilderness earlier in the morning, some two hours ahead of Jenkins and Benning, and were heavily engaged. When we struck the plank road we were still in a double quick.

We were ordered to load at the double quick. Gen. Benning was just about twenty feet in my rear. Very soon we commenced to meet the wounded coming out. These wounded fellows would step one side, giving us the right of way, and also giving words of encouragement. I noticed one old fellow using his gun for a crutch, he being shot in the leg. As we got to him he stepped out to one side, and, standing still as Gen. Benning got to him, he cried out in a loud, cheerful voice, "Go it, Rock. Tige's treed." And I guess the old fellow was telling the truth.

Benning's brigade was filed to the left of the plank road; our brigade was filed to the right of it with our left resting on the road. Just as we had cleared enough to give us room the command was given, "Left flank." This threw us in line of battle. We were ordered to halt in this position. We had hardly stopped when Kershaw's Brigade came tilting back, closely followed by the enemy. No one seemed to know that we were there, when Kershaw's men discovered us by running into us. They were happy and rallied of their own accord, and the way we did put it to those Yankees! It would have done you good to see. We drove them easily back, as they were so surprised, but we did not follow them up but a short distance, when we stopped behind a kind of breastworks made from a few old pines piled together. Here we remained till midday under a heavy fire, and doing the same for them. During the time we were here I asked permission of Col. Hagood to let me crawl out in front and see if I couldn't get something off of the dead Yankees lying just away from us.

He said it was mighty risky, but if I chose to take chances and would not go far, to go ahead. I lay flat on my belly and crawled up to the first one, then to the second, until I had visited eight of these fellows. I was always very careful to keep them between me and the Yankees. I thought I had gone far enough after getting to the eighth, so I turned back and crawled into our lines. When I got back Jim Hagood said, "What have you got?" We were lying down, as we could not put up our heads on account of the bullets. I unloaded my pockets, turning them out on the ground. I had six watches, three or four knives, some rations and a few other trinkets. Col. Hagood took his choice of the watches and I gave Capt. Wood another. The other I sold to Sid Key, now of Beaufort, who had some Confederate money. We were still lying here in a heavy fire when, just after midday, Gen. Jenkins rode down the line in our rear. He had been hit by a bullet, breaking his little finger. He was holding out his hand, from which the blood was still trickling. He said to us, "Men of the First, we are going to charge. Now, I want each and every one of you to remember that you are South Carolinians. Remember your wives, your sweethearts, your sisters at home. Remember your duty. Col. Hagood, get your regiment ready."

Col. Hagood, the boy colonel, called out, "First regiment, continue to lie down, but be at attention." Only a few moments more and the voice of Col. Hagood was heard, "First Regiment, forward." He was the first to be up and ready to move. We crossed over our logs and then the command, "Charge!" We made a dart, and so did the Yankees, but they darted back.

We followed them, running them into their works, where they had heavy reinforcements. We followed them to within some one hundred yards of these entrenchments and could go no further. Here we remained for perhaps an hour, when we leisurely fell back to our former position.

While out there in front of the Yankee works we were subjected to the most deadly fire. I had picked up a little oak stump about the size of my thigh, which had rotted off even with the ground and so badly worm eaten that I could see holes all through it. This I had stood up, propping it with a stick. I got in behind it and soon my brother Joyce moved up on my left and then Lieut. Hair came up on my right. I was square in behind the stump and now I had a man on each side. I was pretty well protected, or at least I felt so. Lieut. Hair, being on my right, turned his head to the left to talk to me. We were all lying flat on our bellies. As he turned to speak to me a minnie ball hit him in the right temple, pa.s.sing directly through his face and head, coming out in the left cheek. His head fell flat to the ground. I put my hand under his head, holding it up. The blood gushed from his temple, his eyes, his nose, his mouth. I held him thus until the blood in a manner stopped, then taking his handkerchief I wiped his eyes and asked him if he could get back. He thought he could, and, on standing up, a minnie ball cut his tobacco pouch from his coat. However, he started back, and after running for perhaps a hundred yards I saw him almost turn a somersault.

I thought then he was a "goner," but he is yet alive, living at Williston, and making a good, upright, intelligent citizen.

On getting back from where we had made the charge we were soon moved to the left. This time we were supporting a brigade in Pickett's Division, marching in line of battle some forty yards in rear of their line of battle. I think I have failed to mention that the entire Wilderness was one ma.s.s of undergrowth--oaks from about the size of one's finger to the size of one's wrist, and about as tall as a tall man's head. The section of the woods we were now advancing into was remarkably thicker than any we had yet encountered, and, worse still, it seemed as if every one had a bullet through it from the hard fighting that had just gone on there, causing these white oak runners to bend down from being top heavy. These bullets all seemed to go through about the height of a man's waist. In tumbling down they made almost an impa.s.sable barrier. Together with this obstacle the dead and dying were so thick that we could not help stepping on them. It has been said that a person could walk seven miles, stepping from body to body, and never touch the ground.

We were supporting the Virginians. They neared the plank road, marching parallel thereto, the Yankees falling back. As they got very near the road they saw a Yankee flag waving just above the bushes and just about the road. It was natural to suppose that the enemy had halted and was making a stand on this road. They immediately opened fire. The flag fell, and, as there was no response, we discovered that Longstreet, Jenkins and their staffs had ridden down this road, thinking we had crossed. Longstreet, seeing a Yankee flag lying on the road, had ordered one of his staff to pick it up. This he did, and, remounting, the flag was raised above the bushes and became unfurled. The Virginians fired on it, killing Gen. Jenkins and dangerously wounding Longstreet and some of their staff. This was a great misfortune to us. Here fell two of our best officers. It was a long time before Longstreet was well enough to return to us, but he did after a while; but was ever after suffering with his left side and shoulder.

While we were halted here in the confusion after happening to this misfortune, I ran upon a dead Yankee officer, finely dressed, clean and nice looking. He had on a fine pair of high top boots, brand new, the spurs, of course, coming with them. I immediately took them to Col.

Hagood and he found them as good a fit as if made for him. We ran the enemy back to their entrenchments on this part of the line as we had done in the morning on the other part. We then fell back far enough to be out of range of their musketry, and without even taking off our cartridge boxes--no fires--we lay down to rest and get some sleep. We did not sleep much this night, for we were right in among the dead and dying, and many a poor fellow, especially from the Yankee army, would beg for water, and we did not have it to give him. Our men got some canteens from the dead, some with a little water and some with brandy.

All this was given to the poor fellows without any regard to which side he belonged. All we cared for was that he was a human being and a brother, though we had fought him hard all day.

Remaining here for the night, with only a little firing on the skirmish line, we retired some short distance next morning; only far enough back to get off of the ground where there were so many dead. Here we remained all day of the seventh and that night until about four or five o'clock on the morning of the eighth, when we were moved to our right. Grant had started his flank movement for Richmond by trying to turn our left. We met him on the eighth at Spottsylvania and here again we had a most b.l.o.o.d.y battle.

CHAPTER IX.

On May 7th, the day after the big fight at the Wilderness, we moved back a short distance and got off of the field, where it was strewn with the dead and dying. Here we remained sharpshooting heavily all day; but about dark that held up and we were comparatively quiet. We cooked our suppers and prepared for a good night's sleep and a much needed rest, as we had been hard at it for over forty-eight hours. It was not long after dark before all of us were fast asleep, except those on picket. Grant, however, had other views than to rest. He was just starting on his "On to Richmond." As the hours grew on, the skirmishing grew less, but yet there was commotion in the enemy's lines. Near midnight we were ordered in line and moved off--_the whole of Lee's army_. We were moved to our right, for Grant was moving on Richmond by the left. We met them after a hard march, hard only because we were so broken down. At Spottsylvania, shortly after midday, and without having time to rest or even catch our breath, we met them--_we had to stop them_. Our brigade was thrown in front of a lot of Pennsylvanians, who seemed to think no one had the right to stop them from going right on to Richmond. But it did not take us more than a couple of hours that evening to convince them this was not the day nor time to go undisputed. In little less than two hours they had fallen back, leaving us where we met them. The Palmetto Sharpshooters of our brigade captured here a regiment of Pennsylvanians, over four hundred men. We did not follow them, I suppose because we were too tired and broken down to run when we met them, and were the same way and could not follow. It was now almost sundown, and, after sending out our skirmishers, we began to look around to see how the land lay; for we expected hard fighting again after what we had at the Wilderness.

The men, of their own accord, commenced to cut down pine trees to build breastworks. The only tools we had for this purpose were the little hand axes, about three inches wide, which some of the men had. These they had carried in their belts and used them to chop wood for fires. But now they put them to bigger use and would not hesitate to jump onto a pine tree that would square twenty inches; and it was surprising how soon they would have it down, cut off, trimmed up and cut off again. Then the whole company would take it up, place it in position. We worked this way for some hours into the night. All the while the whole skirmish line was pretty warmly engaged. That was a great incentive to us, and we worked until we had to quit because we were just broken down. But we had put up some log work which would be a great protection before we did quit. We got a very good night's sleep, and next morning, after eating what little we had, we felt real good and ready to go to work again on our breastworks. This we did, and while our skirmish line was fighting in our front and the hard fight going on "at the angle" on our right, we worked. And by afternoon we had a set of breastworks of which we were proud. The Yankees did not attack our part of the line during the day--only kept our pickets heavily engaged.

Now, this night was Company E's time for picket, and before dark we were carried out to the line, relieving the company already there. Our company had at this time sixteen men, all told, and we had to cover the entire front of the whole regiment. Consequently, we were not at regulation distance apart when we deployed as skirmishers. We, however, relieved the other company and fell in behind a rail fence. We expected an advance at any moment. Our orders were to hold the ground as long as we could. After dark three of us rallied together and remained so. This made some distance from one squad to another, but it was the best we could do. Where each three men were we "let the fence down," making a jam, and then, getting in this, we had right good protection. There were in one jam Eddie Bellinger, Job Rountree and myself. Well, at midnight they advanced, and it was hot for some time. Eddie Bellinger and myself could load our guns lying down on our backs, but Job could not do it. He was used to hunting squirrels around Mixson's Mill Pond and Joyce's Branch and had never had to lie down to load. He thereupon proposed to Eddie and me that if we would do the loading he would do the shooting.

This we readily agreed to, and Job would stand up, exposing himself from waist up. As soon as we would get a gun loaded we would pa.s.s it to him, and he would throw the empty gun back for another loaded one. We had three guns and worked them so fast that they got so hot we stopped loading for fear they would not stand it. We finally drove this advance back, after an hour's hard work. We were not disturbed any more till morning. Just as the sun began to show itself we discovered a line of battle advancing over the hill, where they had come a little nearer.

There was another supporting the first and then yet another supporting the second, making an advance of three lines of battle. We knew we were in for it now, sure, and we poor little sixteen men opened on them just the same as if we were an army. But on they came, as if we were not there. It reminded me of the gnat on the bull's horn. On they came, and soon we heard Capt. Wood say, "Skirmishers, fall back, firing." We went back, going from tree to tree. They were gaining on us, as we were retiring slowly. The last stand we made was some seventy-five yards in front of our breastworks. We stopped here and gave them a round or two.

We were protected by trees. My brother Joyce and myself happened to stop in behind the same tree. We both shot off our guns and reloaded. When he went to cap his gun he let the cap slip through his fingers, and, instead of reaching in his cap box for another, he stooped over to pick it up from the ground, thereby exposing a part of his person. _No sooner exposed than hit_, and he made for the works. Just then Capt.

Wood gave command, "Skirmishers, into the works," and in we went. We were glad, too, when we got behind them. By this time, or by the time we had a.s.sembled as a company and taken our company's position in the regiment, the enemy's three lines had gotten up pretty close. The front line had advanced to within about forty yards of our works and had lain down. The second line was some twenty yards in the rear of these, and the third line about the same distance in rear of the second. All three lines were now lying down. We were well protected behind the good breastworks of logs, and the way we did give it to those Yankees would have done your heart good to see; and they--well, they stood it like men, but it was too much for them to go forward, and, after staying there for perhaps an hour, they fell back; but not for long. They came again, and about the same thing happened the second time, after they had again remained for nearly an hour. Again they fled back, but in a short time back they came, seemingly with more vim than ever, and at one time it seemed that they would run over us. But we held on, and, showing no indication of giving way, they got no further than the works, which they did reach, but could not climb over. Here it was hot for a few moments, but they weakened, and for the third time fell back; but this time some two hundred yards, when they rallied. They were, however, somewhat demoralized and Col. Hagood, noticing this, and taking advantage of it, hollered out, "Company E, deploy as skirmishers." While we were deploying behind the works Col. Hagood pa.s.sed an order that when the skirmishers started to advance the whole regiment must yell as we mounted the works. Then the command was given, "Skirmishers, forward, double quick." At this time there were not more than ten or twelve men in the skirmish line charging three lines of battle. As we mounted the works the regiment gave the yell. The whole of Lee's army, both to the right and left, seemed to take it up, and on we went, _this handful_.

The Yankees must have thought our whole army was out after them, for they broke in confusion. It was really rich to see ten or twelve men running as many thousands.

In making this advance I ran over a nice looking fellow who was just dead. I happened to notice a gold ring on his finger, and as the enemy were getting back as fast as they could, I concluded to get that ring.

So, stooping over, I pulled it off, and upon straightening up I saw a body of Yankees at right shoulder shift and at a double quick, an officer with drawn sword in command, coming up on our left, _now in our rear_. I called out to Capt. Wood, "They are flanking us on the left, captain." He stopped and looked and gave the command, "Skirmishers, in retreat." He and I started back, and to get back we had to pa.s.s just at the head of these Yankees. As we got at their head the officer in command of them ordered his men to halt, and, turning his sword, tendered it to Capt. Wood, thereby surrendering the lot. Capt. Wood immediately cried out, "Skirmishers, halt, forward. Frank, take charge of these men." I stepped up, gave the command, "File right, double quick," and in no time the whole lot were in our works, thirty-six prisoners. It seems that we had been fighting all day fresh troops from Vermont, and the unexpected advance of our skirmish line led this entire company to believe that they were behind our advancing columns.

It had been raining all day, and we were as black with powder as the negroes at home. Our hands and faces would get wet, and taking our cartridges out and biting off the stem we would get the powder on our hands and faces.

It was now late in the afternoon and another company was sent to relieve us. We had been on the skirmish line since the evening before. On pa.s.sing back to our works I stopped and foraged a little; and when I went into our works I was literally loaded down with haversacks, knapsacks and hats. I had six Stetson hats--new--and, on opening the knapsacks the things which struck my fancy most were white laundered shirts (boiled shirts). I gave a hat to Col. Hagood, Capt. Wood, Lieut.