SOON after the investment of Fort Sumpter, S. C., December 20th, 1860, a military spirit prevailed all over Virginia. All the old volunteer companies were filled at once, and new ones were organized, and when the State seceded, a large portion of the men had joined some of the military organizations. I joined an old volunteer company. It was known as “F Company” of Richmond; one of the crack companies of that day. In its ranks were some of the best men of the city. It numbered about eighty men. New members were added so rapidly that it soon numbered about one hundred and fifty.

This company had a fine cadet gray uniform, consisting of a frock coat, which had a row of Virginia fire-gilt buttons on its front; around the cuff of the sleeve, a band of gold braid and two small fire-gilt buttons; on the collar the same gold braid so arranged that it looked very much like the mark of rank for a first lieutenant, which was afterwards adopted by the Confederacy. The pants had a black stripe about one and a quarter inches wide along the outer seams. The cap was made of the same cadet gray cloth, trimmed with black braid, and two small fire-gilt buttons, and on its front the letter F. The non-commissioned officers had their mark of rank worked on the sleeves of their coats with black braid. The difference between the uniforms of the officers and the privates was in these particulars: the officers' coats were a little longer and their sleeves were highly ornamented with gold braid, something like that of the Confederate uniform; they had gold braid down the outer seams of their pants, and their caps were trimmed with gold braid. Each sergeant carried, besides his gun, a sword attached to his belt. Then on duty every man was required to wear white gloves. He carried in his knapsack a jacket made of cadet gray cloth. We had black cloth overcoats, the skirt reaching a little below the knee, the capes a little below the elbow, and the buttons were Virginia fire-gilt.

Our knapsacks were a specialty; they were imported from Paris, made of calfskin tanned with hair on, the color being red and white, the skin was fitted around a box frame. Inside they were divided into partitions; and outside, there were openings into some of these so that one could handle articles inside of them without opening the whole knapsack, and there were straps on the outside for blanket, overcoat, oilcloth and shoes, and other straps and some hooks handy for attaching any article we wished to carry. We also imported our canteens.

For a week or two before the State seceded, the companies in Richmond were drilling men nearly all the time; a squad of green men at one hour, another squad at the next, so on throughout the entire day; and at night a company drill. Each man was required to report at company headquarters once during the day. The tolling of the fire bells was the signal to meet at the companies' armories, prepared to go wherever ordered.

I was quietly walking home from church, after the morning service on Sunday, April 21, 1861, when the bells commenced to toll. I broke into a run at once, going home as fast as I could. I put on my uniform, etc., and was soon at our armory. Here it was rumored that the gunboat Pawnee was coming up James River, with the intention of capturing or bombarding the city. As soon as all the men reported, the company was formed and marched to Wilton on James River, about ten miles below the city. Passing Rocketts, the port of Richmond, we found the citizens assembled there by thousands; old men, boys, women, girls, women with babies in their arms, in fact nearly the whole population. The fields in Rocketts, as well as the wharves, were literally alive with human beings, commingled with horses and vehicles, as some had ridden down in buggies and carriages. Some had shotguns, some had rifles, some pistols, some swords, some canes, and some had made large piles of stones on the wharves, to use against the enemy. They were all determined that the ship should never get to the wharf. It makes me laugh now, after my experience of war, to think what the citizens were then doing!

We arrived at Wilton about sunset where we were joined by the Richmond Howitzers. A picket from F Company was established along the river. The Howitzers' guns were placed in position. Orders were given to fire on the Pawnee as soon as she came within shooting distance. The men of F Company, not on duty, stacked arms, and were ordered to remain near them during the night. We had nothing to eat, and did not know when or where we would get anything. One of our officers, however, had remained behind, and about eight or nine o'clock that night came up with a wagon loaded with cooked ham, bread, etc., and we had a jolly time over our supper, the first of the war. After eating, the men gathered about in squads talking; finally lying down on the grassy ground and going to sleep; the first experience of the war, and that without either blanket or oilcloth. The night passed without incident; the expected Pawnee did not come. The next day we returned to Richmond on two barges, that were sent down the river for us. We won a great deal of glory in this campaign, as everyone thought we had done wonders. In marching from Rocketts up Main Street to our quarters, which were between Eighth and Ninth Streets, we had an ovation nearly all the way. Thus closed the “Pawnee War.”

VIRGINIA was thoroughly aroused. Soldiers were coming into Richmond from all directions, the streets were filled with marching men, and the sound of the drum was heard every hour of the day and night. It will show the enthusiasm of the people of the State when it is said that four weeks after Virginia seceded, eighty thousand organized soldiers had offered their services in defense of the cause!

On the morning of Wednesday, April 24, 1861, several telegrams were received in Richmond announcing that the enemy were landing at Aquia Creek, the terminus of the Richmond, Fredericksburg& Potomac R. R. Our company and the Richmond Light Infantry Blues were ordered at once to that place. We marched to the R. F.& P. R. R. depot, then on Broad Street, corner of Eighth Street, where we embarked on cars for the seat of war, Aquia Creek. On reaching Fredericksburg, we were informed that the Yankees had made a demonstration at Aquia Creek, but did not land; and we received orders to stop there. F Company debarked, and marched to the courthouse and camped for the night. A load of straw was sent us, which we spread on the floor and benches, making a very good bed; and citizens invited us to their homes to supper. We went to bed that night in regular military order, had a camp guard, lights out by taps, etc. Some of the boys, during the day, had purchased whistles, tin horns, and other noisy things, and as soon as lights were put out, the fun commenced: One blew a horn, another in a distant part of the building answered on a whistle. This went on for a few minutes. When the officers commanded silence, no attention was paid to them. When the officers said to the sergeant, “Arrest those men,” the sergeant would strike a light, and go where he thought the noise originated; but each man looked so innocent that he could not tell who it was. By this time, another would blow. Soon there were four sergeants, running here and there, trying to catch the delinquents. This was kept up until the perpetrators became tired, not one being detected.

In the morning we were supplied with breakfast by the citizens. We remained in the town, living in this manner several days. Then we marched to the Fair Grounds, where we found that the Blues had preceded us. Here we went regularly into camp, which was called Camp Mercer. Our company was assigned to the sheds of the horse department, the floors were covered with straw, and three men were assigned to a stall.

Camp duty began at once, guard mounting, policing, drills, etc., and dress parade every fair evening, most of the young ladies of the town coming out to witness it; and they seemed to enjoy it as much as we did their presence. The men formed messes, each consisting of about ten men, each employing a negro man as cook, and we got on nicely, as we thought. The regular rations were issued to us, but in order to become accustomed by degrees to eating them, we sent the cook or some member of the mess into town, to get such articles as the market afforded.

The following are the names of the members of F Company, who went to Fredericksburg:

ON our arrival at Camp Lee, we were given tents, which we put up in regular military style near the center of the grounds, and commenced a regular camp life; drilling, guard mounting each morning, policing, inspections, and evening dress parade. The latter was witnessed daily by quite a number of our lady friends from Richmond.

We were mustered into service for one year on June 28, 1861 (to date from April 21), on the Capitol Square by Inspector General J. B. Baldwin. Each boy under 21, and there were many, brought a written permit from parent or guardian, and this was approved by the Governor of Virginia before he was mustered in.

I cannot give a copy of that muster roll, as it cannot be found, but give that of the 30th, only two days later, which is practically the same.

“Muster Roll of Captain Richard H. Cunningham, Jr.'s Company F of Light Infantry from the City of Richmond, known as ‘F Company,’ constituting part of the Force of Virginia Volunteers, called into the Service of the State by the Governor, under on Ordinance of the State Convention adopted April 17, 1861. Enrolled for Active Service at Richmond, on the 21st of April, 1861; Mustered into Service at Richmond on the 28th day of June, 1861, for one year from the 21st day of April, 1861, unless sooner discharged.”

WE left Richmond about 11 A. M. on the 18th of July, 1861, for Staunton, which place we reached in slow time on the next morning about 7 o'clock. We were marched to the Fair Grounds, and camped in a wood on a large hill overlooking the depot and city. During the day we made additional purchases of articles that we thought would be of use and comfort to us, and hired teams to carry our company baggage. The next morning we left Staunton, marching to Buffalo Gap; the regiment having a wagon train of thirty-five wagons, most of which were four-horse mountain wagons. Our company had five, having hired four of that number to carry our baggage, knapsacks, chests, etc., the one furnished by the government carrying our tents and cooking utensils. When we reached Buffalo Gap, flour was issued to us as rations, and we were promised beef as soon as some of the regiment would kill some cattle that were in a pen in sight. Some of the F boys volunteered to do the killing, if others would do the dressing, etc. The force was soon made up, the F boys quietly loading their guns, and shooting the required number of beeves, the others dressing them, and in a short time we had our regular supper. This is the commencement of our rations of beef and flour, a ration that was issued to us many years. While the beef was being dressed, camp was laid off, tents pitched, fires made. Some of the men took a delightful bath, others climbed the steep mountain and viewed the surrounding country. Guard was placed around the camp, and as bedtime approached we went quietly to rest, after our first regular march as a regiment.

Next morning we continued our march, and during the day we heard firing of artillery so plainly in our front, that our officers sent someone ahead to find out what it meant. After waiting some time one of them rode forward, and when he returned after several hours' absence, he could give no account of it, saying that as far as he went it seemed just ahead, and no one he saw could give any information in regard to it. We went into camp at Ryan's, and while we were eating supper a dispatch was received by a courier, saying a great battle had been fought and won by the Confederates at Manassas. We must have been one hundred miles in an air line from Manassas. The firing was as distinct that day as any I heard afterwards that was five to six miles off.

The company's first misfortune overtook us at Ryan's; the government took one of our company's wagons, and the driver of another refused to go any farther. Some of the mess chests were left, and some of the men had to carry their knapsacks. The next day we reached McDowell in a drizzling rain, and met the men of Garnett's command, who had been defeated a few days before at Carrick's Ford. They were a forlorn looking set, and told awful tales of having nothing to eat except berries and roasting ears! None of us believed what they said. It was not many months before we were made to realize that it was the truth. We now lost another of our company's wagons and more mess chests were left behind. The next day we marched to Monterey. We were living high, buying as many chickens as we wanted, nearly grown, for six pence—8 1-3 cents—each, butter and eggs at corresponding prices per pound and dozen, and when we could stop for a meal, the price was nine pence —2 1-2 cents.

Continuing our march, we reached Napp's Creek Valley on the 25th, and forded that creek seventeen times during the day's march, the road crossing from one side to the other every few hundred yards. Gen. Loring, the officer in command of this expedition, passed us to-day while we were on the march. His attention being called to the regiment, he remarked that they were a fine looking body of men, but no soldiers. Until they are able to sleep in winter amidst the snow and ice without tents, they are not soldiers! This was repeated to our company, and the men were very indignant, and put him down at once as an officer who knew nothing; and each man in the company wanted to call him to account for the insinuation, and would have told him they never expected to sleep in snow or surrounded by ice. Alas, for our judgment! It was not many months before we were of the same opinion as Gen. Loring, and we then knew that we had at this time learned nothing about the duties of soldiers in the field. On the evening of the 26th, we reached Huntersville, the county seat of Pocahontas.

We stayed there several days, concentrating a force large enough to cope with the enemy in our front. We were joined by several regiments of infantry, several companies of cavalry, and several batteries of artillery. During our stay there a great many of the men became sick with measles and typhoid fever, and when we left on the evening of the 3d of August, at least one-third of the 21st Va. Regt. was sick in the hospitals. The courthouse and only church had been converted into hospitals, and some of the private houses were full of the sick, and tents had to be erected for others. Our company's baggage was reduced so much that we only had one wagon when we left. The march continued until we reached Valley Mountain on the 6th, where our regiment pitched tents on the side of this mountain, and we went into camp.

Gen. R. E. Lee, having been assigned to the command of this department, joined us here, and pitched his head-quarter's tents about one or two hundred yards from our company. He soon won the affection of all by his politeness and notice of the soldiers. He very often had something to say to the men, and it soon became known that when some of the people in the neighborhood sent him something good to eat, as soon as the messenger got out of sight, the articles were sent to some sick soldier. This affection increased as the years rolled on, and I suppose no body of men under his command had more love and respect for our great leader than these men who first served under him!

Here is an incident showing Gen. Lee's kindness of heart. He was well aware of the arduous duties we had to do at that time. On a rainy night a private of Company E of our regiment was on guard duty. Soon after getting to his post he took a seat on a log, thinking he could protect himself and his gun from the rain better in this position. While in this position he was approached by the corporal of the guard, who accused the man of being asleep on his post. This the man denied and stated that the ground being so soft from rain, he did not hear him approach. The corporal arrested him, and took him to the guard house, turning him over to the officer of the guard. At that time it was thought a capital offense for a man to be caught asleep on post, and punishable by death. In the morning the captain of the guard consulted with the officers of the regiment as to what should be done. All of them thought he ought to be shot. Things began to look blue for the man, when as by inspiration the captain said, “Well, Gen. Lee is here, and he knows, and I'll carry you to him.” As they approached Gen. Lee's tent, they saw he was alone, and at a table writing. On getting to the tent the general bade them good-morning and invited them in. When they entered, the general said, “What can I do for you, captain?” The captain stated the case, and said the officers of the regiment did not know what to do, so he came to consult him. Gen. Lee at once replied, “Captain, you know the arduous duties these men have to do daily. Suppose the man who was found on his post asleep had been you, or me, what do you think should be done to him?” The captain replied that he had not thought of it in that way. Then Gen. Lee turned to the man and said, “My man, go back to your quarters, and never let it be said you were found asleep on your post.”

The sick became so numerous here, and the regiments were so diminished at one time, that I suppose there were not more than one-fourth of the men available for duty. I know that in my own regiment we had to picket to the front and when one picket was relieved and the men returned to camp in the evening, most of them were detailed immediately, and ordered to get ready with rations, etc., to go on duty again in the morning. We worked a great deal on the roads. Some of the men while at work one day under the direction of a corporal, were observed by Gen. Loring in his rounds. He dismounted, gave some directions as to work, and then took a seat on a log near him. The corporal joined him, and seating himself near the general, made some remarks about the work, and said to Gen. Loring, “General, we officers have a good time up here, don't we?” General Loring looked at him, and then asked his rank. He replied: “Corporal!” The general, who was a profane man, let some “cuss words” loose at him, and told him to take a spade; and it is said the corporal made the dirt fly as long as Gen. Loring was in sight.

Gen. Lee ordered a forward movement on Sept. 9th. The men were given thirty rounds of ammunition each, which in a short time thereafter were increased to forty rounds, which number was always carried by each man to the end of the war, unless on some special occasion we were required to carry eighty.

We met the enemy at Conrad's Mill on the 11th, when some skirmishing and artillery firing took place. As we advanced up the road, we passed our first dead Yankee. He made a lasting impression, as he lay on the side of the road, his face upturned and a fresh pool of blood at his side, showing that his life had just passed away.

The enemy retired during the night. The next day a picket from the 21st Va. Regt. was sent to the front, remaining there until the 15th, when we fell back to Valley Mountain, reaching there on the 17th.

The failure here was owing more to mud than anything else. In all my experience of the war I never saw as much mud. It seemed to rain every day and it got to be a saying in our company that you must not halloo loud, for if you should, we would immediately have a hard shower, and when some of the men on their return from picket had to shoot their guns off to get the load out, it brought on a regular flood. Granville Gray always said it rained thirty-two days in August. I was told by wagoners that it was hard for them to haul from Milboro, a distance of sixty miles, any more than it took to feed their teams back and forth. I saw dead mules lying in the road, with nothing but their ears showing above the mud.

We remained at Valley mountain until the 24th, when Gen. Lee left us and joined Gen. Floyd on Sewell's Mountain, taking all the troops with him but our regiment, the Irish Battalion, a battery of artillery and a company of cavalry. These troops were left in command of Col. Gilham of the 21st Va. Regt. He fell back to Middle Mountain, about two miles from Valley Mountain, which position could be more easily defended. We marched to the place of our encampment on Middle Mountain, stacked arms, and returned to Valley Mountain for our camp equipage. Having no wagon, we had to carry everything needed on our backs, and had to make several trips to do it. What was left at Valley Mountain was gathered together and burned. What a fall for F Company! You will remember that we left Staunton with five wagons loaded with baggage belonging to the company. We are now moving the camp of our regiment without a single wagon.

We left Middle Mountain on the 28th, after a heavy rain. All the creeks had become small rivers, and as we forded them the water came up to our waists. We had now one two-horse and one three-horse wagon to move everything belonging to the command, and began to think, as Gen. Loring did, that we were men, but not soldiers. After a short march each day we reached Elk Mountain about dark on Oct. 1. A detail of a lieutenant and six men and a non-commissioned officer was made from F Company, and sent back eight miles on the road to picket. We reached our destination about midnight. Two sentinels were posted at once, one in the road, the other in a path that led over the mountain, headquarters of the camp being at a spring on the road near a house, but on the opposite side of the road. The next morning, not long after day, the inmates of the house, a woman and her children, commenced to stir, and soon made their appearance. About sunrise the woman came to the yard fence, and commenced to abuse us in the most violent language I ever heard from a woman. It was some time before we could tell why she was abusing us. She had quite a large number of beehives, and the troops marching by her house the day before molested none of them. When she arose in the morning, and knew that one of her best hives was gone, and a squad of men were at her spring, it was quite natural that she should think we took it. Our lieutenant, Edward Mayo, tried to impress on her that we did not; but she knew better, as she had gone to bed with everything all right, and when she awoke, we were there and the hive was gone. This was convincing proof to her. We were ordered not to go on her side of the road, nor have any talk with the inmates of the house, as Lieutenant Mayo would show her that we were gentlemen at any rate. We had no rations, as we moved in the night, before we could get any. It is true that some of the men had a little sugar and coffee, and some a little raw meat and a few biscuit. After the old lady had cooled off, as we supposed, our lieutenant went over to the house and tried to borrow or hire a coffee pot, but the old lady said she would see him and us in a hot place sooner. On his return we built a small fire, boiled the meat, and divided the bread amongst us. The woman now, to add to our misery, commenced to bring out her milk and carry it to the hog pen, pouring gallon after gallon to the hogs. We did not say a word to any of the household during the day. A little before night our lieutenant went over again to see what he could do, and with the offer of a little coffee, an article he found the old lady was very fond of and had been without for some time, he got the use of a teakettle to make some coffee in, and she baked us an oven of corn bread. He carried the articles back, and stayed in the porch, had quite a long chat, and returning, told us she promised to let us have the kettle and some more bread in the morning. In the morning we got them, with the promise of a dinner for the party. About dinner time we were relieved, and ordered to report back to camp. We waited for our dinner, and the old lady certainly did try herself. She gave us as nice a dinner as we ever had, including dessert, which made amends for the way in which she first treated us. She also apologized, and we left truly friends, and all kissed the baby.

We left Elk Mountain on the 9th, for Edray, marching amidst the most beautiful scenery I ever saw, the trees having taken on their brilliant colors of fall. We remained in Edray and had a picket on Elk Mountain until the 14th, when we moved to Greenbrier river. Soon after leaving our camp and getting into the road, we passed two men who were sitting on the ground, facing a rail fence. Their hands and feet were put through the rails, and tied together on the opposite side of the fence, in such a position that they could not move. A little further on, we passed two who were lying on top of the fence, their hands and feet tied to some of the rails underneath, so as to keep them from moving. These men had been guilty of disobeying some order, and were punished in that manner.

We went regularly into camp, on the banks of the beautiful Greenbrier, on a piece of low ground that was almost level, affording plenty of room for camp and drill. It was a magnificent camp. The weather was fine, and the time of year such as to make it bracing; the men improved so much, and fattened too, that they became better looking than when they left home. We had a picket on the other side of Edray, about twelve miles from camp. About fifteen men and an officer went and stayed three days. It was my fortune to go there with the first detail, and I went again afterwards, and I thought it the most delightful duty of the war.

While we were in this camp we were informed that in a few days there would be an election for President and Vice-President of the Confederate States of America. This had been talked about with much interest for some time, but without the usual excitement of an election, as there was only one ticket in the field. All the South looked to Mr. Davis as their leader, and no other person was even thought of. Much interest was taken by the soldiers, as it would be the first election held in camp. They discussed as to who were entitled to vote, and where the voting place would be located. On a cloudy morning in November it was announced that the eventful day had arrived, and the precinct was open. Some of the regiment had been appointed judges. The voting precinct was in a tent in our camp, across the entrance of which a pole had been placed, to mark the line between the voters and judges. It had been decided that all enlisted soldiers, regardless of age, that were of good standing, could vote. The following ticket was eagerly voted:

WE were encamped in Augusta County, about one and a half miles north of Staunton. In the valley, that great place for wheat, flour, and hogs, and democrats, the latter could always be heard from in counting the votes after an election.

We remained here until the 10th of December, when we took up our march to join Jackson at Winchester. We marched along quietly each day, until we reached Mt. Jackson on the 20th. It was the custom, during the war, to march with the right of the regiment in front one day, and the left next day. On the 20th the left was marching in front. That threw our company in the rear, as we were the right company. During the day the left led off several times in quick time, which gave our company hard marching. Few know how much easier it is to march in front of a regiment than in the rear. That night our company decided that we would get even next day with the left, and if the officers did not interfere, we would give it to them. Soon after getting into the road the next morning our captain told Sergeant Rawlings, who was leading the company, to step out. Now Sergeant Rawlings was just the man to do it, as he was a powerful man physically, with great endurance. He stepped out at quick time, and kept that pace during the march. In six hours and a half after leaving Mt. Jackson, we went into camp at Strasburg, marching twenty-three and one-half miles. It was said by some of the boys who timed us, that we marched three miles at one time in thirty-three minutes. This was the quickest march we made during the war. We had a snow storm while at Strasburg, and marched to Winchester on the 25th, passing through the town the next day, going into camp on the Romney Road. In marching through Winchester, as we filed to the left at one of the cross streets, we saw standing in the crowd on the sidewalk a man with full dark whiskers and hair, dressed in uniform, wearing a long dark blue overcoat with a large cape, his coat reaching to his boots, which were worn outside of his pants in regular military style, and on them were bright spurs. His head was covered by a faded gray cap, pulled down so far over his face that between cap and whiskers one could see very little of it; but as we passed we caught a glimpse of a pair of dark flashing eyes from underneath the brim of his cap. That man was Stonewall Jackson, and this was our first sight of him.

In our march on the third day after leaving Staunton, we met a woman riding a horse; she had five children on this same horse. She had large bags, fastened together after the fashion of saddle bags, on the horse behind the saddle, and a child's head was looking out on each side of the horse, two children were on the horse behind her, and a baby in her arms. When she came into our midst, and realized that the war was actually going on, she broke down and commenced to cry. One of our officers rode up to her, hat in hand and with the politeness of a Virginian, said some pleasant word to her. This, and the respect shown her by the passing men, soon restored her. She said her husband was in the army, and she, fearing to stay at their home by herself in the lower valley, was going to her mother's higher up, where she hoped to be out of reach of the enemy, in case the lower valley should be abandoned by our army. She would have to travel about fifty miles. The children seemed to be in splendid spirits and to enjoy our passing. Although this was a sight none of us ever saw before, every one treated her with the respect due the first lady of the land. Here is war, real war. Such scenes as families leaving home with nothing but what they could carry on their person, was witnessed many times by the writer.

In going down the valley, we had a feast all the way; the people had just finished killing hogs, and every house had sausage, spare ribs, chine, liver, etc., to give us. We passed Lacy's Spring or Big Spring for the first time, situated on the side of the pike. The volume of water from this spring is large enough to run a large mill, and it looked more like a small river than a spring branch.

At that time everything in the valley had a thrifty look, the horses and cattle were fat and sleek, the large barns overflowing with the gathered crops, the houses which were small in comparison with the barns, looked comfortable, the fences, post and rail or stone, were in splendid order; in fact everything looked well, and showed a thriving population. It was truly a land of milk and honey.

While in camp at Winchester, the Irish Battalion and the 48th, 42d, and 21st Va. Regiments were formed into a brigade, and were known as the second brigade of Jackson's division. Col. Wm. Gilham, being the ranking officer, took command. The marching we had now done made all of us discard everything but necessaries, and we began to think that Ritchie Green did a very smart thing, when we left Richmond, to carry nothing in his knapsack but one paper collar and a plug of tobacco!

We elected a lieutenant here, to fill the vacancy occasioned by the resignation of Second Lieutenant Henry T. Miller. W. Granville Gray was made second lieutenant, and James B. Payne, junior, second lieutenant.

GEN. JACKSON having decided on a winter campaign, marched his army from the neighborhood of Winchester January 1, 1862, a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly and the atmosphere bracing. The second brigade camped near Pughtown that night, the 21st Va. Regt. in a large wood, where gathering the fresh fallen leaves into large piles, placing our oilcloths on them and laying down, covering with our blankets, we enjoyed the bed as much as any we ever slept on.

We marched the next morning at early dawn, and at night camped at Unger's X Roads. The next day, the 3d, we met the enemy about five miles from Bath, Morgan County. The 21st Va. Regt. was marching near the rear of the column. Gen. Jackson sent an order for F Company to report to the front, and we marched by our troops, who had halted in the road. When we reached the front, we halted and were ordered to load, which was done under fire, as the enemy were a short distance in front, on a hill behind a fence. As soon as we had loaded, we were deployed as skirmishers, and ordered forward through a wood, halting on its edge behind a fence. There we became heavily engaged with the enemy, and kept up a fire until it was too dark to see. Firing ceased, and returning to our regiment, we went into camp. This was the first real fight of the company, and the men behaved splendidly. William Exall was killed and Lieut. James B. Payne seriously wounded.

It snowed during the night and the weather became very cold.

The enemy were at Bath in force. In the morning Gen. Jackson advanced on their position in three columns, the second brigade moving along the road with F Company as advance guard. We moved slowly, in order to let a column on our left get into position on the mountain ridge. We came in sight of the enemy, who were in line of battle on that ridge, about one and a half miles from Bath. Our column had marched along the road until it got almost on the flank of their line, before they moved. It was too far for musket firing, but the men of each side engaged in much abuse of each other. As soon as our skirmish line on the ridge came within shooting distance, firing commenced, and the enemy began to retreat. Gen. Jackson now arrived at the front and took the lead on horseback, a few couriers following him; as he passed our company, he ordered us to double quick, and we soon ran. This was a grand sight. The second brigade marching by the flank and running down the road, the Yankees in sight on the ridge to our left, running too, our column on the ridge following them as fast as they could run! In this way our column entered Bath, going through the village, doubling back on the road which wound up the ridge. When we reached the top of the ridge, we could see the Yankees disappearing at the far end of a field, going toward the Potomac river. We followed, but the road ran through a defile, and we could not go as fast as the enemy, because we had to look out for their rear guard, who occasionally came in sight and fired. The enemy went over the river during the night. We captured some stores and a few prisoners.

I saw Col. Turner Ashby to-day for the first time; he impressed me as being a dashing man. He passed us with a company of cavalry, taking a road to our left. One of our columns following on another road, had a spirited combat with the enemy. On the next day, the 5th, Gen. Jackson moved his force towards Hancock, a village on the Maryland side of the Potomac. He sent for F Company to come to the front and lead the column across the river; a high honor to come from him. We marched out of camp singing, and kept it up until we arrived at the front. While we were singing the “Pirate's Glee,” and were well in the chorus, every man having joined in with a zest, and had taken up the inspiring words, “We'll nail the black flag to the mast,” we came suddenly on Gen. Jackson. He pulled off his cap, and his eyes twinkled with evident delight as we passed.

We marched to a certain point and halted, and stayed there several hours, the Yankees throwing a shell at us occasionally from a battery in Hancock. The ground was covered with snow, and it was cold, and we were not allowed to make fires. As night approached, we marched back and with our regiment, camped for the night. It was snowing and hailing, which continued all night, and was intensely cold. The ground the next morning was covered several inches with snow and ice. Gen. Jackson gave up the advance on this road, owing to the ice in the Potomac river, and on the 8th we returned to Unger's X Roads. The march was a terrible one; the road had become one sheet of ice from frequent marching over it, and the men would march in the side ditches and in the woods, where it was practicable; guns were constantly being fired by the men falling, and many accidents were occasioned thereby. In some instances the horses had to be taken from the cannon and wagons, and men with chains and ropes pulled them, the horses being sent forward through the woods; and at many hills, the pioneers had to cut small trenches across the road, in order that the men might have a footing. It was late in the night when we stopped to camp. Although the men underwent great exertion in this march, the cold was so intense that their suffering was great. I saw Gen. Jackson marching along the road on foot with the men several times.

Col. Gilham and Major Shipp of the 21st Va. Regt. received an order to report to the Va. Military Institute for duty, and they left on the 9th. The men had become very much attached to both, and were sorry to give them up. As a token of their respect, F Company purchased a fine horse and presented it to Col. Gilham, attaching to the bridle one of our F's. The next day we had hail again; the second brigade marched only about four miles, marching as they did the day before, men to help cannon and wagons. The next day my regiment marched about five hundred yards, and the head of the brigade marched about four miles. Owing to the terrible weather, our line was scattered over ten miles of road. My mess was so near the camping place of last night, that we went back to it, put the chunks together, and in a short time were comfortable and asleep for the night, rejoining the company in the morning in time for roll call. The only way we could get along at all was to have heavy details of men with each wagon and cannon to help, and at times to pull them. Each day was colder than the day before, and we crossed most of the streams, cannon, wagons, and men, on the ice.

On the 14th it snowed and hailed again. In our march we passed for several miles along the road a growth of flat cedar or arbor vitæ. We continued our march in the same way, until we reached the neighborhood of Romney on the 17th. There the head of the column had quite a spirited combat with the enemy, capturing their camp and some stores. The second brigade went into camp in a wood near the town, and picketed the road we had marched over. Here the sun came out and shone on us, the first time for nineteen days.

Our mess lost its “spider” on this march, and I thought one might be purchased in the neighborhood to replace it. One day I took a stroll into the country to get one, and went to several houses without success. Finally I came to a very comfortable looking house, and found an old lady who was very talkative. She made many inquiries where we were from, how long we were going to stay, etc.; she seemed particularly pleased on learning I was from Richmond, and we had a long chat about the city. I finally told her what I wanted. She called a servant girl and held a consultation, and finally decided that she would let me have a certain oven that was too large for her family. It was brought from one of the outhouses and a bargain was made, after much discussion. She wished to know if it suited me. It was an unusually large one, and had a broken lid. It did not suit me, but was the only one I had been able to get, and I told her that it did. As to the price, she did not know what to say. She finally said, “That is a good oven. I bought it in Winchester sixteen years ago, and gave two dollars and fifty cents for it. It's a good oven, even if the lid is cracked (a piece was broken out of it), it's done me good service. Well, as you want it, under the circumstances, you may have it for two dollars and seventy-five cents.” That took all the wind out of me; I am sure you could have knocked me down with a feather, but I paid her the money, and the service that oven rendered us proved it was a bargain.

The first night or two after the ground became covered with snow. We cleaned the snow off, so as to have the ground to lie on, but the thawing of the ground underneath us made it muddy, and our oilcloths would be badly soiled when we got up in the morning; we then tried the snow, and found it made a better bed and was equally as warm. After that, we never removed the snow on going into camp. Some nights we would spread our tent on the snow, put our oilcloths on that, and a blanket on that, then the party would lie down, a comrade cover them up with the remaining blankets, and then throw the sides of the tent over that, leaving nothing but the head out; he would then crawl from the bottom into his place. In this way I managed to sleep very comfortably several nights on this expedition.

On the 24th, the 21st Va. Regt. marched into the town of Romney, taking up its quarters in the houses that had been deserted. F Company had the bank building. We lived well there; my mess employed an old darky, about two squares off, to cook our rations, she adding to them any good thing she could get. There was a hotel that had buckwheat cakes in splendid style, fine butter and syrup for breakfast, and only charged twenty-five cents for meals. It took only three days for us to eat it out.

Gen. Jackson left us here, going to Winchester and taking a part of his force with him, leaving Gen. Loring in command at Romney. We staid until the evening of February 3d, when Romney was given up, and Gen. Loring's force was marched towards Winchester. We marched late in the night, and it snowed again. Our wagons had gone ahead, and when I arrived at their camping place, I sat down on a bucket at one of the wagoner's fire to warm, fell asleep, and stayed on my bucket until morning! We reached Winchester on the 6th, and went into camp, after being away a little over a month, undergoing the most terrible experience during the war. Many men were frozen to death, others frozen so badly they never recovered, and the rheumatism contracted by many was never gotten rid of. Many of the men were incapacitated for service, large numbers were barefooted, having burned their shoes while trying to warm their feet at the fires.

Do any of my readers recollect Randall Evans at Winchester? He is the old colored man who could get up such famous dinners. After a long time in camp, or on a march with the usual army fare, to go to Randall Evans, and get a meal such as he could serve, would make one forget all about bread and beef, both without salt! I never saw a soldier leave his place who was not perfectly satisfied with the army and everything else, and it was brought about by being full of food, as Randall did not keep anything to drink. What Tom Griffin was to Richmond, so was Randall Evans to Winchester. After the Romney campaign, we came very near eating Randall out.

GEN. JACKSON sent several regiments of his army to Gen. Johnston at Manassas. We remained in our camp on the Romney road until the 27th of February, when my brigade marched through Winchester and camped on the Berryville road, staying there until March 7th; at which time we marched through Winchester, and camped on the Staunton pike, where we stayed until the 11th. Then everything was packed, and we were ready for a general move. These movements were occasioned by the enemy having crossed the Potomac, and it being reported that they would advance on Winchester. We marched through Winchester again, this time to the Martinsburg road, as we heard that the enemy were advancing on this road, and were not far off. They were commanded by Gen. Banks, afterwards known as Jackson's commissary, who later supplied our army so bountifully. Gen. Jackson made disposition to meet them. A line of battle was formed across the pike, a battery placed on Fort Hill and the 21st Va. Regt. ordered to support it. We took our position along with the battery and lay down awaiting the enemy. We heard occasional guns in our front. When night came the enemy had not made their appearance.

Gen. Jackson considered the enemy too strong for him, and withdrew during the night, marching through Winchester a short distance, and resting until morning. Then we continued our march slowly up the valley, until we reached Mt. Jackson on the 18th. The second brigade went into camp about one mile below Mt. Jackson, and the balance of the army marched to Rude's Hill, about two miles above that village, where they camped. We sent a picket down the valley pike and on the 20th marched to Rude's Hill and joined the balance of our little army. The enemy had followed us slowly, but at Mt. Jackson stopped, and retired down the valley.

Gen. Jackson was a great man for saving everything captured from the enemy. His way was to save everything already on hand and never destroy if there was a chance to save. It was a saying in the command that he would carry off a wheelbarrow load, rather than let it fall into the hands of the enemy. While we were camped around Winchester, he was diligently at work getting everything out of reach of the enemy, in case he should be compelled to leave; even the locomotives and cars, that were captured at Martinsburg, were sent to the rear. Because the valley pike was such an excellent road, he could do this. He sent parties of men along the pike, who cut down trees, and used the timber in bracing the bridges to enable them to endure great weight. When everything was ready, large teams of horses and mules were hitched to the locomotives and cars at Martinsburg, and they were hauled to Strasburg, a distance of about fifty miles, where they were put on the Manassas Gap railroad for the use of the Confederacy. In this way many locomotives and cars were saved. During this movement, I saw at one time five cars on their way to Strasburg.

GEN. JACKSON'S army was now at Rude's Hill. The enemy had retired from our front to obtain, as we supposed, a better camping place. On the evening of March 21st, we received orders to cook three days' rations, and be ready to move at early dawn the next morning. When the line was formed in the morning, and we marched to the road, instead of turning up the valley pike, as we supposed our course would be, we took a quick march in the direction of the enemy, and soon passed through Mt. Jackson.

The day was raw and blustering. We marched twenty-seven miles, stopped near Fisher's Hill and bivouacked for the night. Early the next morning we marched, and kept it up, until we reached Barton's Mill, about noon, having marched about sixteen miles. Our brigade stopped to rest until most of the troops came up. We had heard cannon firing in our front and knew our advance under Ashby had overtaken the enemy. It was a surprise to the men that we had come so far without encountering them. But it was known to Gen. Jackson that they had fallen back to the neighborhood of Winchester, and were sending some of their number away to join their army at Manassas. Our march was to find out what they were doing. It was ascertained that they had made a stand at Kernstown.

The 21st Va. Regiment was now ordered forward, and after going down the pike a short distance, turned to the left, and marched across an open field towards the hills that were covered with woods. When we were about half way across the field, we came in sight of the Yankee line of battle near Kernstown, and a battery posted on a hill a little in their rear. The battery opened on us at once. We were ordered to double quick, soon began to run, and reached the hills without an accident. F Company were thrown forward as skirmishers and advance, the regiment following in line of battle a short distance, when the company was ordered to join them, and we marched by the flank. A gun or two of the Rockbridge battery now joined us, we marched under a hill, and they to the right on top of the ridge. These guns were occasionally in their march exposed to the view of the enemy's battery, and they fired at them, the shells passing over our regiment. One of them struck one of the drivers of the guns, tearing his leg to pieces, and going through the horse. Both fell; the shell descended and passed through our ranks and struck a stump not far off, spinning around like a top, and before it stopped one of the company ran and jumped on it, taking it up and carrying it along as a trophy. This is the first man of the war I saw struck by a shell; it was witnessed by the majority of the regiment.

Gen. Jackson now made his appearance, and had a talk with our commander, Lt.-Col. Patton. We were thrown forward into line of battle again, and marched a short distance to the top of a hill, and in full sight of the enemy's line of battle. They were advancing, too, at this point. I saw five flags; we opened fire at once, and they scattered. In a few minutes I saw only two flags, and soon after only one, which marched in a field on our right to a pile of rocks on which it was planted; the regiment gathered around it. Our regiment and the guns of the Rockbridge battery have been fighting this force. Our line was lengthened by the arrival of the third brigade on our left. A part of our regiment moved to a fence on the right, and facing the enemy in the field, fired at them. Some of F Company were kneeling down, firing from behind the fence, some were standing straight up; soon all were standing, and taking deadly aim as they fired. As the excitement increased, they mounted the fence, and many sat on it, loading and firing until every cartridge was shot away. A regiment was sent to the support of the Yankees, but they never got any nearer than the party around the flag, and they soon became intermingled with them. All our ammunition being gone, we gradually retired, passing through the 5th Va. Regt. that had formed in our rear. Our artillery had taken position and were firing on the enemy, but when we retreated they were compelled to do so. In going through a gap in a stone wall, one of their guns became entangled and disabled and was left. One of our company in going to the rear was encountered by Gen. Jackson who inquired where he was going. He answered, that he had shot all his ammunition away, and did not know where to get more. Old Stonewall rose in his stirrups, and gave the command, “Then go back and give them the bayonet,” and rode off to the front.

The remainder of the little army had been heavily engaged, and although confronted by large odds, held its own, and only retired after shooting all its ammunition away. It seems to me that the 21st Va. Regt. would have held its line indefinitely, if it had been supplied with ammunition. It was a regular stand-up fight with us, and as stated the men along the fence left its protection and fought as I never saw any fighting during the war. After this, they were glad to take advantage of anything.

We were whipped after desperate fighting, and I think only for want of ammunition. Night found our little army in retreat towards the valley pike, where the stragglers were gathered up, and the men lay down on the ground for a few hours' rest. The next morning we took up a slow and sullen march up the valley, the enemy following. Arriving at Middletown, I learned that Tucker Randolph, one of my messmates, was in one of the houses. He had been sent to the rear the evening before, wounded. I soon found him, and seeing the condition of my dear old comrade, I made up my mind to stay and nurse him if I could obtain my captain's permission. Dear old fellow! how he thanked me when I said it. I had long ago made up my mind never to be taken prisoner, but could not leave my messmate. All our wagons and ambulances had long passed, our lieutenant had promised to send an ambulance back, the surgeon had also promised. I finally became so uneasy, that I went to all the town folks to see if I could get a vehicle of some kind to take him away, but could get nothing. All the infantry had now gone, even the stragglers had left the village. The cannon of the horse artillery, our rear guard, were near, having ceased its firing, and I could hear the exchange of carbine shots. I went to the door, and looked up the street for my long looked-for ambulance, but nothing was in sight. I looked down the street, and saw the horse artillery entering the village. I now made up my mind to ask the officer in command to take my friend on one of the caissons, and went into the street to meet him, when, taking another look up the street, I saw an ambulance coming on a run. We put my comrade into it in a hurry, pitched in his knapsack, etc., and off we went. We passed out of the village in time to get away, but the Yanks gave us a parting shot from a cannon as we left, the shot passing over without damage. The horses to the ambulance received some heavy whacks from the whip of the driver, and we were out of all danger.

I went along with my comrade, and before night had collected about half a dozen of the wounded of my company. I took care of them until we arrived at Staunton, and put them on the cars en route to their homes. I then returned to my company.

This was the first regular battle of the regiment, and it was said we displayed great gallantry. F Company had six wounded, Tucker Randolph, Ned Taylor, Charles Taylor, Henry Pecor, Charles Skinker, and Joe Nunnally.

This attack of Gen. Jackson on the enemy was a very daring one, and was the means of helping our army at Manassas, as the troops the enemy were sending away were recalled. The enemy were far superior to us in numbers, and although Jackson was whipped, Congress thought it did the cause so much good that it at once passed a resolution of thanks to Jackson and his army.

ON the 24th of March our brigade moved to the vicinity of Strasburg, where we halted about midday and camped. The enemy were in hot pursuit, we could hear firing in the rear all day, and from some high points could see the enemy during the march. We had built fires in our camp, drawn rations, and were busy cooking, when a shell came screaming over our heads, followed by another. In a few minutes the woods were full of shells from the enemy, who had driven our rear guard far enough to command our woods from one of the neighboring hills. We loaded our cooking utensils and baggage on the wagons, and they went off in a run; we soon followed in a slow march, and continued it until we reached the neighborhood of Woodstock, where we quietly went into camp out of hearing of the enemy. The next day we went into camp near Mt. Jackson. On the 26th, the second brigade was sent back to near Woodstock to meet the enemy, with whom we skirmished till the 28th, when we marched to Mt. Jackson; and on the 3d of April returned to near Edinburg to meet the enemy again. We were to coöperate with Col. Ashby in any movement he made. F Company was ordered forward as skirmishers through a wood, halting on its edge. A large open field was in our front, and Edinburg in full view, and the Yankee skirmish line on the opposite side of the creek. We engaged them at once. Col. Ashby came along, riding his white horse; he had the dwarf courier with him, and told us not to fire unless the enemy attempted to cross the creek, and if they should make the attempt, to give it to them. He rode out in our front to a small hillock to see what was going on, the little courier accompanying him. The enemy immediately shot at them; as they reached the hillock, the courier's horse fell dead. We could hear Colonel Ashby tell him to take off his saddle, bridle and accouterments, and carry them to the rear, which he did as quickly as possible. Colonel A. sat his horse as quietly as if he had been in camp, until the courier reached the woods, when he quietly turned his horse and walked him off towards us, passing through our line going to the rear. Soon afterwards he gave orders for our brigade to go back to camp, as he would have nothing for us to do that day.

On the 5th we marched to Rude's Hill, and went into camp. The next morning I was ordered to report, with arms, to the brigade quartermaster. On arriving at his quarters I saw two large wagons, four mules hitched to each, and learned that a detail of six men had been made to accompany the wagons on a trip to get corn. As soon as all the men reported, a quartermaster sergeant who went with us, ordered us to get into the wagons, three in each. The wagons started at once, went to the valley pike and turned down the pike. Reaching Rude's Hill we passed some artillerymen who had a cannon trained on the bridge over the Shenandoah. At the foot of the hill we passed the cavalry outpost of about thirty or forty men, who were dismounted and waiting events, their horses strung along and fastened to the fence each side of the road. When they learned our destination, all of them bade us good-by, saying they would never see us again, as the Yankees would certainly capture us. Going about a half a mile farther we passed the cavalry vidette on the outpost. He said good-by too, and pointed out to us the Yankee vidette in his front, a little above the bridge and on the other side of the river. We went about a fourth of a mile farther, pulled down two panels of fence on the left of the road, entered a large corn field, and loaded those wagons more quickly than any were ever loaded before. When we had them about half full a Yankee cavalryman rode to his vidette in plain view of us, had a short talk, then rode off at full speed. That made us pull corn faster. The wagons were driven back to the road and headed for camp. A countryman who was with us said that was “the slickest job he ever saw.” When we reached our vidette, he gave us a hearty welcome, and the outpost cavalry gave us a big cheer.

On the 7th we marched below Mt. Jackson and camped in our old place. On the 10th all of Jackson's force marched up the valley, and stopped near New Market. On the 13th our brigade marched to the gap of Massanuttin Mountain that leads into Luray Valley, it having been rumored that the enemy were making a demonstration from that direction. On the 17th all the force marched up the valley to Big Spring, staying there all night, and the next morning marched up the valley, leaving the valley pike near Harrisonburg towards Swift Run Gap, and crossed the Shenandoah river, going into camp next day. We were safe from pursuit now, with our backs to the Blue Ridge, and at this point our little force could keep off easily thrice as many as have been in pursuit of us.

ON May 3d we left Port Republic. This is the commencement of that great Valley campaign, the most brilliant of modern times, and I do not know that it was ever surpassed. We marched across the Blue Ridge to the Central Railroad near Meechum's Depot, and there we took the cars and went to Staunton, arriving on the 4th. On the 5th we were joined by the 10th Va. Reg. Inf., which was assigned to the third brigade, and by the cadets from the Va. Military Institute. On the 6th we left Staunton, marching towards Buffalo Gap, and about midday joined Gen. Edward Johnson's force, that had fallen back about six miles from Staunton. He had been in great danger before we arrived; a force in his front pressing him, and that of Banks threatening to march to his rear. With Jackson's coming all was changed. Near Buffalo Gap we went into camp for the night. The next morning the advance was continued, with Johnson's force in front. We encountered some of the enemy near Ryan's, and captured some stores, tents, etc., and a sutler's outfit. There was lying just outside of the sutler's store door about a bucketful of “sutler's” coin, used by him in his traffic with the soldiers, having his name, regiment, etc., and the value of the coin on it. The head of the column skirmished some with the enemy. We crossed the Shenandoah Mountain and passed through the fortifications used by Gen. Johnson while he was there. In descending this mountain, we could see a long line of the enemy in position on the opposite mountain. They, however, withdrew without firing, and we halted for the night. On the 8th we marched in about the same order—Gen. Jackson's command in front, the second brigade next, then the third brigade, the Stonewall brigade in the rear, the cadets marching, I think, in front of the Stonewall brigade. The second brigade was ascending the Bull Pasture Mountain in the afternoon, marching a few yards and halting, then a few yards and another halt, a march that fatigued men more than one in which they take an even step and march for a length of time. We had been marching in this way for such a long time, that evening was approaching, and it was rumored that we could not cross the mountain that night; that we would return to the valley, or bottom, and camp for the night, that the remainder of Jackson's division would join us there. The men had begun to think that there was some truth in the report. Soon the idea was discarded, and the 21st Va. Regt. was hurried up, and on reaching the top of the mountain we could hear firing, and, going a little farther, we could hear that it was heavy. We were hurried along the road until we reached the 31st Va. Regt. of Johnson's command, who were ordered to join Gen. Johnson, who was heavily engaged on our left, and we were formed in line of battle across the pike. Gen. Jackson now arrived and gave orders in person to Lt. Col. Cunningham, who was in command of the regiment. He told him to protect his men as much as possible and to hold the position at all hazards, and ended by saying, in that sharp way of his, “Tell your men they must hold the road.” This was the only road by which Jackson could get his forces out if he should meet with disaster, and the road be taken, the enemy would be directly in his rear. This was therefore the key to Jackson's position, and if it were lost, all was lost. The men of the regiment now took their position behind trees and big rocks, the bottom in which we are being filled with them. As the men took their places it was with the determination that no enemy should drive them away. We were not called on for a test of our courage, a few skirmishers only appearing in our front, the enemy attacking us from our left, and next to the village of McDowell. It is said that Gen. Jackson had no idea of fighting this battle on the 8th; he and Gen. Johnson had ridden to the front and examined the situation of the enemy, and they decided to wait until morning to make an attack; as Jackson had obtained information that the enemy could be attacked in their rear, and he intended to send a force to that point as soon as it became dark. Some of his staff had actually gone to our rear, to direct those troops where to camp.

Milroy, who was in command of the enemy, received some reinforcements about noon, and thought best to make an attack at once on Gen. Johnson, not knowing of Jackson's presence. This was the cause of the battle.

The enemy made a gallant and spirited attack, but were promptly met, and, after some hard fighting, were driven back with loss. We lost a number of men and some valuable officers. Gen. Johnson was shot through the foot in the thickest of the fight. We had no artillery on our side, as we could get no position on the mountain side, and not more than two-thirds of Jackson's force was up in time to take part in the battle. The enemy used artillery from the other side of McDowell. When we passed through the town the next day, we could see the holes they made in the ground, in order to so elevate their guns as to shoot at us on the mountain side.

During the night the enemy retreated, burning some of their stores; some, however, falling into our hands. They threw a large quantity of ammunition into the creek from a bridge on the road.

We followed in hot pursuit as far as Franklin, Pendleton Co., overtaking them on the afternoon of the 11th. There the enemy took position in a narrow valley that ran between the mountain hills; these hills were covered with woods, and they had fired the woods on both sides of the valley in their front, and as soon as we came in sight, their artillery commenced firing at us. We could not locate the guns because of the smoke. Gen. Jackson sent a small force to the enemy's rear to obstruct the road at the mountain gaps; the small force was driven off before it accomplished the work. We remained in front of the enemy, trying to find their position by skirmishers, but the fire and smoke from the burning woods prevented.

Gen. Jackson, having other and more important plans, abandoned the place about 10 o'clock on the morning of the 13th, and retraced his march, going back through McDowell, marching about eleven miles, taking a road on the left leading to Harrisonburg. We stopped on the 15th, at Lebanon Springs, and remained there on the 16th to observe the national day of humiliation and prayer, ordered by the President of the Confederacy. On the 17th we resumed our march and stopped near Mossy Creek on Sunday, the 18th, where most of the command had religious worship. At early dawn on the 19th we resumed the march, and reaching Bridgewater crossed the Shenandoah river on a bridge made of wagons, that were placed in a row across the river, and planks laid from one wagon to the other, thus making a very good footbridge. On the 20th we passed through Harrisonburg, and were joined by Brig. Gen. Taylor's brigade of Louisianians, of Ewell's division. This brigade made an unusually good appearance, as the men were more regularly uniformed than any we had seen.

When Gen. Jackson moved from Swift Run Gap, Gen. Ewell with his division and two regiments of cavalry occupied a position in Culpepper Co., on the Rappahannock river. He moved his command to Swift Run Gap, and occupied the position just vacated by Jackson. This was to prevent Banks from making an attack on Jackson's rear, while he was advancing on Milroy. After Jackson had disposed of Milroy, he turned to the Valley, and the junction with Taylor shows that he had reached that great country; and we went into camp on the Valley pike.

ON May 21st Jackson marched down the Valley pike. When we reached New Market we took the road leading to the Luray valley, and formed a junction on the 22d, near Luray, with the balance of Gen. Ewell's command, which had marched down the Luray valley from Swift Run Gap. Jackson now had the largest army he had ever had. He had brought Gen. Edward Johnson's force of six regiments and some artillery with him from the Shenandoah mountain, and had Ewell's command, and his old command.

On the 23d Jackson's army left its bivouac near Luray, taking the road to Front Royal, the head of the column arriving about three or four o'clock in the afternoon. Gen. Jackson, as usual, made an immediate attack on the enemy, with the few men who were up. His eagerness all through this campaign was surprising, and his escape from death was almost a miracle. The enemy were found drawn up in line of battle in a strong position on the opposite side of the Shenandoah river. He had a line of skirmishers formed under his eye, and gave them the command to forward, and pushed them and some advance cavalry front the start. The Yanks finding things getting so hot, set fire to the two bridges, and were immediately charged by our cavalry and skirmishers, who saved the bridges in a damaged condition, crossed and were right in the midst of the enemy, Jackson along with them. The enemy made a bold stand and fought well, but they could not withstand Jackson's mode of warfare, and retreated to a farm orchard and buildings. Here they made a gallant stand; but our two regiments of cavalry from Ewell's command came up, were formed under Jackson's eye, and charged the protected enemy. The cavalry swept everything before them, and soon the entire force was killed and captured. In the charge at the bridge, the gallant Captain Sheets, Ashby's right hand, was killed. A large amount of stores and several hundred beef-cattle were captured. The second brigade did not come up until night, having marched twenty-seven miles.

On the next morning, as our brigade passed the prisoners that had been captured the evening before, one of them hallooed to us, “How are you, Tom?” Tom replied, “What are you doing in such bad company, Bob?” Tom, however, left ranks, and went inside the prison lines and had a hearty shake of the hand and a few minutes' conversation. Coming back he said it was his brother; literally is brother against brother. We kept up our march in the direction of Winchester until we reached Cedarville. Jackson's division with Taylor's brigade taking the road on the left, and the remainder of the army under Ewell's command keeping the direct road to Winchester.

Company B of Maryland, of our regiment, who were mustered into service for one year, having served out their term of enlistment, left us at this point; and the 21st Va. Regt. had only nine companies after that date.

The force of Jackson's command that left the road at Cedarville marched to Middletown on the valley pike. When we came in sight of the pike, it was filled as far as we could see from one end to the other, with Yankees on their way to Winchester, and we had surprised them on the march. We attacked at once, and cut their marching column in two; one part keeping on towards Winchester, the other turning back towards Strasburg. This part of their command the second brigade, was ordered to pursue, and we followed them until they had crossed the bridge over Cedar Creek. Then we were recalled and joined in the general pursuit. In marching through Middletown, we found long lines of knapsacks behind the stone walls on the pike, as if whole regiments and brigades had unslung them in order to make a stand, and as soon as we attacked them, left in such a hurry as to leave them.

Near Newtown we came to a long wagon train of the enemy's, standing on the side of the road. Some of the wagons had been fired by them. As we passed, one thing struck the writer about the contents of those wagons as singular. In every one that had articles in sight, I could see portions of women's clothing; in one wagon a bonnet, in another a shawl, a dress in the next, and in some all of a woman's outfit. I never saw the Yankee soldiers wearing this kind of uniform, and why they carried it was beyond my knowledge. Some of our men suggested that it had been confiscated from citizens of the valley. Marching a little farther we halted, the enemy having some artillery on the opposite hill shelling our road. Our advance ran out some guns, and these, with our advanced skirmishers, soon had them retreating again. It was now dark, and we soon came to another long train of captured wagons and a pontoon-bridge train; the men looked at these with much interest, as they were the first we had seen. Marching