Reminiscences of a Private Part 5

Next morning she was up bright and early and gave us breakfast and G.o.dspeed. It was now only a few miles before we would reach the forks of the road where Jim and I would part, he going to Barnwell and I to Joyce's Branch, ten miles above Barnwell. The nearer we reached this fork of the road the more serious we would become. We had eaten and slept together for nearly three years--had shared privations together, and in prosperity we divided with each other; and now, we were on the verge of parting, perhaps never to see each other again. We had been pa.s.sing the burnt houses, done by Sherman in his march, and we did not know what we might find at our homes; but we well knew there were hard times ahead of us. At last, we arrived at the parting place, and, by common instinct, we determined to make the parting short. Jim took the bolt of jeans from his shoulders, where he had it slung, told me to pull it out, and then, doubling it in the middle, cut it in two. _This was all._ Without saying a word more, we shook hands and turned off quickly.

Jim had about twelve miles to Barnwell; I about ten to Joyce's Branch. I reached home just as they had finished dinner. They, too, had not heard of Lee's surrender. They hunted me up some old clothes, sent me to an outhouse to wash and clean up, and then buried my suit of Confederate gray, as that was the best thing to do with it. I was very much gratified to find that Sherman's raiders had not gotten as high up as our place. The nearest they came, however, was only one and a half miles off towards Barnwell. I found that none of our negroes had run off, but all were at home making a crop, and mother had a good supply of "hog and hominy."

There were, however, about a dozen cases of smallpox on the place, left by some straggler, the most of which was among the negroes. I was not afraid of it, having been well vaccinated while below Richmond, and I did not hesitate to go right in to it and help all those who had it, both white and black. It was but a few days before my sisters had me a real nice suit of clothes, made from the jeans we had raided at Charlotte and divided at the forks of the road. The first time I went to Barnwell I saw Jim Diamond in his suit made from the other part.

Now, the war is over, and we are again civilians. My reminiscences of a private are at an end. There are things I should have written in these had they occurred to me at the right time, and perhaps there are things that might have been left out. But when I would take my seat to write I did not know what I intended saying. It seemed to come to me by inspiration, and I would just write as fast as pencil could go. I will have to ask the public to be charitable in reading this. Recollect, I went into the war a mere country boy, fourteen and a half years old, and returned to a ruined, desolate and impoverished country at eighteen years and six months old.